Better than a slate, then, might be a more three-dimensional metaphor, perhaps something architectural, or at least children's building blocks, which can be rearranged and built into structures. And a useful implication of this metaphor is its recognition that ideas depend on one another for their positions. Johnson's resentment at fraud, I argue, comes from his realization that having our mental towers tumble will eventually discourage our attempts to rebuild, or even to build them at all. And in Rasselas , he explains why this is a problem. I have always considered it as treason against the great republick of human nature, to make any man's virtues the means of deceiving him, whether on great or little occasions.
All imposture weakens confidence and chills benevolence. . . .
The distrust, which he can never afterwards wholly lay aside, may stop the voice of counsel, and close the hand of charity. That is to say, fakery dampens faith. Watching our building blocks tumble one too many times discourages us from playing with our blocks at all. And this sort of intellectual indolence terrified Johnson. With Johnson, therefore, epistemology slides easily into moral philosophy.