Glass Etc Book S , THE ELEMENTS OF " LOGIC. . &Vw*/«t 1 J u CAMBRIDGE: PRINTED BY JOHN SMTTH, Printer to the UnirersHy. 1826 » < Since Locke was the expounder of a new system of opinions on a difficult subject, he was led to enforce them by repetition, and to illustrate them by more examples, and with greater diffuseness of language, than he would probably have thought necessary, if he had been writing at the present time. For the same rea- son, it is not surprising that some of his statements have been controverted by subsequent writers, and shewn to be erroneous or defective. Although therefore the substance of many of the following Articles is derived from his Essay on the Human Understanding, yet, to suit the purpose for which this compendium of Logic has been made, it was necessary to omit many parts of that Essay, and to abridge the language of those parts that are retained; also, some things are here advanced which are not supported by the authority of Locke; but where this is done in any matter of importance, a note of it is annexed, lest the reader should be misled to ascribe opinions to Locke, which more recent writers have maintained in opposition to him- CONTENTS. ART, Page 1. The mind acquires ideas, Jirst, by Sensation; secondly, by Reflection 1 2. Though the mind has no innate ideas, yet it has some which may be said to be connatural ib. 3. Some ideas are simple, and some complex 2 4. The ideas produced by the qualities of an object enter the mind simple and unmixed ib. 5. The mind cannot form new simple ideas at pleasure S 6. On the different ways in which simple ideas enter the mind ib* 7. Distinction of qualities into primary and secondary 4 8. Solidity ib. 9. On the manner in which our knowledge of primary and secondary qualities is gained . . . , ............ . 5 10. Perception r ,...., 6 11. Difference between perception and sensation ....... 7 ART. Pagt 12. Our perception of secondary qualities is relative . . 8 13. Perception is sometimes fallacious ib. 14* In particular, perception by the sight is wholly determined by experience . . , * . . 9 15. The manner in which impressions are made on the mind is unknown ^ 10 16. Memory .. ... 11 17« Discerning 14 1 8. Abstraction *. ib. 19. Complex ideas of substances, modes, relations : and first of substances 18 20. Distinction of modes into simple and mixed 20 21. Modes of space * ib. 22. On the place of bodies 21 23. Duration 23 24. On the means of measuring duration ib. 25. Number 24 26. Infinity , 27 27. Many modes are not distinguished by separate names 28 28. Some ideas of mixed modes are acquired by 06- servation ; some by invention ; some by definition 29 Ill ART. , Pag« 29. Relations 31 30. The association of ideas . . /. 34 31. On the importance of giving a right direction to the thoughts 39 35. On the prejudices and antipathies which arise from a wrong association of ideas * . » ib. S3. Other instances of evil arising from the same cause 41 34. Words are the arbitrary signs of ideas 42 35. Words are, for the most part, general terms, so that one name comprehends a great number of individual objects . . . . P 44 36. The meaning of words may be explained in four mays . . ib. 37. On the imperfections and abuses of language ...... 45 38. On the evil arising from the abuses of language ... 47 39* Knowledge is of two kinds, actual and habitual; and, considered with respect to its evidence, it is intuitive, demonstrative, or sensitive ib. 40. On the extent of human knowledge. .50 41. The causes of the narrow extent of human know* ledge appear to be chiefly three ; the want of ideas; the want of a discoverable connection between the ideas we have ; and the want of examining our ideas, to see whether they agree or not 51 IV ART. Page 42. On the reality of our knowledge 54 43. On the existence of God 55 44. Truth, whether necessary or contingent, cannot be established without assuming some self-evident principles 5& 45. Difference between demonstrative and probable evidence 60 46* On the degrees of probable evidence •- 6i 47« On the grounds of probability in civil affairs, ..... 62 4S. On the probability arising from human testimony . . 63 49. In traditional testimony, each transmission weakens the proof 64 50. On the probability which is derived from analogy ib. 51. In what cases error is unavoidable , , 65 52. Causes of error assigned by Lord Bacon. Some arise from general principles of the human con* stitution 66 53. Others, from something peculiar to individuals .... 68 54. Others, from the imperfections and the abuse of language * 69 55* Lastly, some are owing to the tendency which men have to frame groundless hypotheses 70 56. Dialectics : definitions of simple apprehension, judgment, and reasoning 72 57. Explanation of the terms subject, predicate, and copula • 72 58. Propositions are affirmative or negative; universal or particular . 73 5Q. Division of propositions into absolute and con- ditional 74 60. Some propositions are simple ; others compound 75 61 . On copulative and disjunctive propositions ib. 62. On reasoning ...... 76 63. The manner of determining whether man is accountable for his actions . , * 77 64. Definition of the premises and conclusion of a syllogism ; the major and minor terms ; the major and minor propositions. . ........ ib. 65. Example of a conditional syllogism : definition of the antecedent and consequent * 78 66. Example of a disjunctive syllogism. 80 67. Enthymemes. ... „ , . ib. 68. Sorites 81 69. Dilemma $% 70. Argument by induction. . , SB 71. Direct and indirect arguments : arguments a priori and a posteriori 85 VI ARf. Pare 72 « Sophisms: the sophism of inferring the falsity of a conclusion from the falsity of certain premises ; and, reversely, of inferring the truth of certain premises from the truth of the conclusion 86 73. The sophism called ignoratio elenchi 87 74. The sophisms, petitio principii, and reasoning in a circle 88 75 The sophism, non causa pro causa ......... ib. 76. Sophisms arising from ambiguity of language . . . . . 89 77* Other inconclusive modes of argument ...*..... 91 78. Methods of reasoning by synthesis and analysis* . . 92 THE ELEMENTS OF LOGIC. Art. 1. The term Logic is here used to denote the science which treats of the operations of the mind in ac- quiring ideas, and of the exercise of it by proper methods of reasoning. The mind acquires ideas, first, by Sensation. Our senses, being acted upon by external objects, convey ideas of those objects to the mind. Thus by sensation we ac- quire the ideas of colours, sounds, and of all those which are usually called the sensible qualities of matter. Secondly, the mind acquires ideas by Reflection. Reflection is the notice which the mind takes of' its own operations, such as thinking, doubting, believing, reason- ing, knowing, willing. The mind, being conscious of these operations and reflecting on them, is furnished by them with ideas which could not be obtained from exter- nal objects. 2. Although the mind has no innate ideas, i. e. none which are coeval with the mind and perceived by it before the senses begin to operate, yet it has ideas which may be said to be connatural : i. e. the constitution of man is such that when he is grown up to the possession and exercise of his reasoning powers, certain ideas will inevitably and ne- cessarily spring up in him. Such are those of existence, personal identity, time, number. The mind is endowed A with faculties, the exercise of which is necessarily accom- panied by such ideas, and also by the acknowledgement of certain moral truths and practical principled of conduct. These ideas are not the immediate objects of sensation and reflection, though the senses may furnish the^r^ occasions on which they occur to the mind. For example, the mo- ment that a sensation is excited, we learn two facts at once; — the existence of the sensation, and our own existence as sentient beings : thus, the first exercise of consciousness necessarily implies a belief of the present existence not only of that which is felt, but also of that which feels and thinks. But it is the belief of the former alone that can properly be said to be obtained by sensation. The latter is obtained by a suggestion of the understanding conse- quent on the sensation, but so intimately connected with it that the belief of both is generally referred to the same origin. a 3. Some ideas are simple, and some complex. A simple idea, (as of light, of heat, of hardness,) exists in the mind under one uniform appearance, and is not distinguishable into more than one idea. A complex idea is made up of several simple ones : thus the idea of man is complex, in which are united several simple ideas, such as of figure, extension, solidity, thinking, life. 4. By the quality of an object is meant whatever in that object is the cause of ideas. The qualities that affect our senses are in the things themselves united and blended, yet the ideas they produce in the mind enter by the senses simple and unmixed. Thus the qualities of the same piece of wax may cause, by the touch, the ideas both * Stewart, Elem. of Phil. ch. i. §. 4. and Phil. Es. I. ch. i. Sup. Encyc. Brit. Diss. vol. V. p. 30. of softness and of warmth : yet the simple ideas, thus caused by the same object and conveyed to the mind by the same organ of sense, are as distinct as those that come in by different senses, as distinct as the smell and whiteness of a rose, or as the smell of a rose and the taste of sugar. 5. When the mind is stored with simple ideas, it has the power to repeat, compare, and unite them so as to make at pleasure new complex ideas. But it cannot acquire one new simple idea except by the ways above- mentioned: (Art. 1. 2.) nor can it destroy those which it has already acquired, though it may lose them by forget- fulness. As in the visible material world, the power of man reaches no farther than to compound and divide the materials that are made to his hand, but cannot make the least particle of new matter, or destroy an atom of what is already in being; so in the mind new simple ideas cannot be formed at pleasure ; as any one may learn, who will endeavour to acquire the idea of a taste which has never affected his palate, or of a colour which he has never seen. A person born destitute of any one sense, is destitute of all the ideas which belong to that sense : if he be born deaf, he has no idea of sound ; if blind, he has no idea of light and colours. Also, though he may possess any sense in its utmost perfection, yet he cannot, except by actual experience, have any particular idea belonging to that sense. A person shut up all his life in a dark room could have no idea of light ; if allowed to see no other colours than black or white, he could have no ideas of scarlet or green : he who has never tasted a pine-apple, can have no idea of its peculiar flavour. 6. Some simple ideas enter the mind by one sense only ; as those of colour by the eye, and of sound by the ear. Other simple ideas are acquired by more senses than one ; as those of extension, Jigure, rest, motion, both by the sight and touch. Others are acquired by reflection only; as those of thinking, knowing, willing. Others are acquired by all the ways of sensation and reflection ; such as the ideas of pleasure or pain, which are excited by almost every affection of our senses from without, and every thought of our mind within. 7- The qualities that are in bodies are of two sorts : (1) Primary qualities, such as solidity, figure, hardness, softness, fluidity ; these exist in bodies, whether we per- ceive them or not. (2) Secondary qualities. These are of two kinds; first, the powers that bodies have, by operating immediately on our senses, to produce in us such ideas as those of colour, sound, taste, smell, heat, cold ; secondly, the powers that are in any body to cause such a change in the primary qualities of another body, as to make it affect our senses differently from what it did before. Thus fire, acting immediately upon us, gives us the idea of heat; — acting on lead, it so changes it as to make it fluid. 8. Solidity is that quality of a body by which it ex- cludes all other bodies from occupying the same place with it at the same time. Of the primary qualities of bodies, none affects our senses more frequently than solid- ity. Whether we move or rest, we feel something under us that supports us and hinders our farther sinking down- wards ; and the bodies which we daily handle, make us perceive that while they remain between our hands, they prevent by an insurmountable force the approach of those parts of our hands that press them. Solidity differs from hardness in this respect, that hardness consists in a firm Cohesion of the parts of a body, so as to make it difficult to change the place of those parts as they respect one another ; whereas solidity respects the whole mass, and is as essential a quality of water or air as of adamant. A drop of water, indeed, placed between two plane surfaces of marble> will not, like adamant, prevent their contact; because the parts of a drop of water, cohering loosely to one another, give way to the pressure, and escape in a lateral direction. But if this be prevented, and a drop of water be confined on all sides, as in a globe of gold, it is known by experiment that no force will bring the sides of the globe together without forcing the water through the pores of the metal. Our idea of solidity is also distinguished from that of pure space^ which is capable neither of resistance nor motion. We may conceive two bodies approach one an- other, without touching or displacing any solid thing, till their surfaces meet ; and hence we obtain a clear idea of space without solidity. Whether there be such a thing as pure space is a different question ; but that we are able to form an idea of it, cannot be doubted. For since the idea of motion in one body does not include the idea of motion in another; — if we suppose one body to move while others remain at rest, then the place deserted by that body gives us the idea of pure space, into which another body may enter, without meeting with resistance from any thing. 9. When it is said that Jire is hot, that snow is cold a?id white, these expressions, strictly understood, must mean that there is in fire and snow such a configuration of their insensible particles as to have the power of pro- ducing in us the ideas of heat, and of cold and whiteness. But as bodies exist which are not capable, as lead is, of a 3 b* being made fluid by the action of fire, in like manner there is need of a certain formation of our organs of sense, and a certain texture of the insensible particles of our bodies conformable in some unknown manner to the in- sensible particles of fire and snow, in order that the ideas of heat, cold, and whiteness, may be produced in us. Our knowledge therefore of secondary qualities is gained solely by observing the effects of one body on another ; whereas primary qualities are inherent in bodies, inde- pendently of our sensation, or of any relation to other bodies. Of primary qualities, we have by our senses a distinct notion ; but secondary qualities are conceived only as the unknown causes of certain sensations and of certain known effects. 10 If we had senses acute enough to discern the minute particles of bodies and the real constitution on which their secondary qualities depend, they would produce quite different ideas in us; and that which is now the yellow colour of gold would disappear, and instead of it we should see the texture of the minute parts, of a certain size and figure. But our present organs of sense are adapted to the nature of things around us ; and if they were altered, while external things remained the same, it cannot be doubted that our well-being would be affected by the change, greatly to our disadvantage. 10. Perception is that act of the mind by which it acquires ideas of the qualities of bodies. In sensation, there is no object distinct from that act of the mind by which the sensation is felt ; as, in smelling a rose, the mind is affected by the sensation in a certain way, and b Reid, Es. II. ch, xvii. this affection of the mind may be conceived without think- ing of the rose or of any other object. But perception has always an external object ; and the object of perception, in the case here stated, is that quality in the rose which is discerned by the sense of smell. Observing that the sensation is excited when the rose is near, and ceases when it is removed, We are led to conclude that there is some quality in the rose which is the cause of this sensa- tion. This quality in the rose is the object perceived ; and that act of the mind by which we acquire the idea of this quality, is called perception. 11. The senses therefore have a double province ; to make us feel, and to make us perceive. They furnish us with a variety of sensations, and at the same time they give us a conception of the objects by which those sensations are caused. As the perception and its cor- responding sensation are produced at the same time, and are never found disjoined in our experience, we are led improperly to consider them as one thing, and, through the imperfection of language, to give them the same name. If the sensation be such as to cause neither pleasure nor pain, and therefore, being indifferent, draw no attention ;— -of which kind are the sensations caused by all primary qualities ; — in speaking of those qualities, it is usual to say that they are perceived, not that they are felt. On the other hand, taste, and smell, heat, and cold, have sensations that are often agreeable or disagreeable in such a degree as to draw our attention ; they are therefore commonly said to be felt, not to be perceived: and when disorders of the body cause acute pain, so that the painful sensation engrosses the atten- tion, they are always said to be felt, not to be per- ceived. 8 12. The secondary qualities of bodies, not less than the primary, are objects of perception: observing their effects, the mind is led to form a conception of some unknown cause that has produced them. The effect is obvious to our senses ; but the quality or power is latent. And in such cases, i. e. where the cause is not observed by the senses, it is common to express in language, by active verbs, effects on bodies wherein they are merely passive. Thus we say that a ship sails ; though it is certain that a ship has no inherent power of motion, but is impelled by external force. In like manner, when it is said that planets gravitate towards the sun, no more is meant than that by some unknown power they are impelled in that direction. This gravitation is not a power inherent in bodies,, which they exert of themselves ; it is a force im- pressed upon them to which they must necessarily yield. The effect may be observed, but the nature of the force which has caused the effect is unknown. And the same is true of all the powers of matter : our perception of them is relative ; relative, i. e. to the effects which the powers are known to produce. 13. Perception is often fallacious, and requires cor^ rection by experience and judgment. A man who has had a limb cut off, many years after feels pain apparently affecting the limb which he no longer possesses. The sensation is real ; but he is misled, by his perception, as to the locality of the disorder. Our perception of external objects is connected with certain sensations. If the sen- sation is produced, the corresponding perception follows even when there is no object, and in that case deceives Us. In like manner, our sensations are connected with certain impressions made upon the nerves and brain : and when the impression is made, from whatever cause, — the corres* 9 ponding sensation and perception immediately follow. Thus, in the case above supposed, a part of the nerve that went to the limb was cut off along with it, and upon the remaining part the same impression is made, which, according to his experience in the natural state of his body, was caused by a disorder of the limb : and this impression continues to be followed by the sensation and perception which had been previously connected with it. It is probable that repeated convictions, impressed by a new experience, might correct the erroneous perception. 14. In particular, perception, by the eye, of the size, distance and figure of bodies, is wholly determined by experience. A man born blind, who should suddenly be made to see, would not at first have any idea of distance by sight, but would think all bodies equally near to him. When, however, by the aid of the touch and by constant experience it is found that different sensations, occasioned by different degrees of liveliness in the colours or by dif- ferent dispositions of the pupils of the eyes, correspond to different degrees of distance in the object, an habitual connection is formed in the mind between those sensations and the notions of greater or less distance. Our perception of Jigure is acquired in the same manner. Having experienced by the sense of touch that one surface is a square and another a circle, that one body is a cube and another a sphere ; and finding our sense of sight differently affected by the square and the circle, by the cube and the sphere; these different affections become so closely connected in our minds with the figures of the respective bodies, that when the affection is felt the c Reid, Es. II. ch. xviii. 10 idea of the corresponding figure is suggested to us at the same moment. d Nor need we be surprised that this is done with so little notice, if we consider how quick the actions of the mind are, and how the facility of doing things, which is acquired by habit, comes at length to produce actions in us that escape our observation. 15. Impressions are made on the organs of sense, either by the immediate application of the object itself, or by some medium which passes between the object and the organ. In two of our senses, viz. touch and taste, there must be an immediate application of the object to the organ. In the other three the impression is made by means of a medium ; as, in vision, by the rays of light ; in smelling, by the effluvia proceeding from the object; and in hearing, by the vibrations of the air. The impres- sion made on the organ of sense, being communicated to the nerves and brain, rouses the mind ; and the united action of the mind and of the object produces sensation. And since we know by experience that the mind alone cannot, by any effort of its own, produce sensation, and are intuitively certain that nothing can begin to exist without a cause, we infer from the existence of any new sensation, the existence of some external cause from which that sen- sation proceeds, and thus we are led by experience to a perception of the external object. But while we are thus taught by experience that cer- tain impressions, produced on our organs of sense by external objects, are followed by sensations, and these again by corresponding perceptions, yet the manner in which these effects are accomplished is unknown ; and d Encyc. Brit. Art. Metaphysics. 11 must remain so, unless we can discover what the mind is, and by what laws it is united to matter, so that they are qualified to act on one another. In the mean time we are ignorant of the essence both of mind and of matter, and are merely acquainted with a few of their properties ; on which account, in observing their operations, we must often remain satisfied with knowing that certain things are con- nected with one another, without being able to discover the chain that goes between them. It is to such connect- ions that we give the name of the laws of nature ; and when it is said that one thing produces another by a law of nature, no more is meant than that one thing, which in popular language is termed the cause, is invariably followed by another which is termed the effect ; but how they are connected is unknown . e 16. Memory is that faculty of the mind which enables us to retain ideas already acquired, and to recall them to our contemplation without the aid of the objects by which they were originally excited. Sometimes ideas recur to us spontaneously ; in other cases they are recalled by some incident, or by an effort of the will. In the last case, i. e. when the mind makes an effort in search of any idea and after some labour recalls it, the operation is com- monly distinguished by the term recollection. Memory is of so great moment, that where it is defect- ive, the rest of our faculties are in a great measure useless. If an idea be wholly lost, so far there is perfect ignorance ; nor is the evil much less, if the memory retrieve ideas slowly, so that they are not at hand when occasion calls for them. e Stewart, Elem. of Phil. ch. i. ^. 3. 12 How the mind possesses this faculty, cannot be explain- ed, any more than we can explain the causes of sensation and perception. If it be supposed, according to the ancient theory of ideas, that they are imprinted on the brain by means of the organs of sense, and that, when they are so imprinted as not to be destroyed by time, the preservation of them is called memory ; it may be ob- jected, first, that there is no evidence that the impressions made upon the brain remain after the object is removed ; secondly, that, supposing them to remain, all that can be inferred is, that by the laws of nature there is a connection established between these impressions and the remem- brance of the object : but how the impressions contribute to this remembrance is unknown ; it being impossible to discover how thought of any kind can be produced by im- pressions made upon the brain or upon any part of the body. When the memory is described as a repository in which ideas are stored ; or when ideas are said to be engraven on the memory, such expressions are not rightly used, unless they be understood in a figurative sense; since they do not afford any real explanation of the operations to which they refer. It is probable, however^ that the memory is dependent in some manner on the temperament of the brain, since it is observed that diseases of the brain impair or destroy it, and that its vigour returns with the return of health. But if it should ever be discovered what temperament is favour- able to the memory, and by what remedies the disorders of it may be removed, though the advantage of such a discovery would be great, it would not in any degree ena- ble us to understand why one state of the brain is favour- able to the memory more than another. 13 The powers of this faculty are different in different persons; and in the same person they may be greatly improved by exercise; by attention; and by a proper arrangement of the subjects which he wishes to remember. The effects of exercise in strengthening all the faculties are known by every one's experience. It is equally known that those ideas are easily remembered on which the atten- tion of the mind was at first strongly fixed, either from its natural vigour or from some casual association with the passions. Hence, those who are able to connect feelings of pleasure with the pursuit of knowledge, have little difficul- ty in retaining what they have acquired ; while many who complain of the weakness of memory ought rather to ascribe the evil to a defect either of apprehension or of curiosity. The great advantage that may be derived from a pro- per arrangement of the subjects of knowledge, is worthy of particular notice. A number of ideas may be con- nected by some mutual relation, and referred to one general principle. The mind therefore is relieved from the necessity of dwelling on detached facts, and by means of a small number of general principles, it can recall, as occasions may require, a great variety of particulars asso- ciated with them ; each of which, considered separately, would have been as burdensome to the memory as the principle on which they are all dependent. In the common business of life, in what confusion would the merchant be involved if he were to deposit 'promiscuously, in his cabinet, the various documents which pass through his hands ! whereas, by a proper distribution of them, and by referring them to a few general titles, an ordinary memory is able to effect what the most retentive would fail in, if unassisted by method. The advantages of arrangement in treasuring up our ideas in the mind, are B 14 perfectly similar to the good effects of it in the instance which has been stated. But since, with every aid, the powers of the memory must be limited, we shall do well to discriminate the subjects of knowledge according to their importance, and confine our aim to the acquisition of useful and connected truths; instead of grasping at every thing by desultory efforts, and distracting our attention by many detached and insignificant objects/ 17. The mind, having gained ideas, has the faculty of discerning ; i. e. of distinguishing one from another. If in having our ideas in the memory ready at hand, consists quickness of parts; in having them unconfused and being able to distinguish one thing from another where there is the least difference, consists the exactness of judgment. And hence there appears to be some ground for the common remark, that men of great wit and prompt memory have seldom the clearest judgment, or deepest reason. For wit consists in assembling ideas, and putting together with quickness and variety those wherein can be found any resemblance or congruity, so as to make up pleasant pictures and agreeable visions in the fancy; in doing which, no regard is paid to truth and right reason, by whose severe rules, therefore, it will not bear to be examined: judgment, on the contrary, consists in separating ideas wherein can be found the least difference, so that no confusion may arise from their apparent simili- tude. 18. Every object which affects our senses is an indi- vidual object ; but we perceive that two or more objects which affect some of our senses differently, affect others of them in precisely the same way. Thus paper, snow, and f Reid, Es. III. Stewart, El. Phil. c. vi. 15 milk, affect the senses of touch and taste differently, but they present the same appearance to the eye. The differ- ence we believe to proceed from different qualities in the several objects; and their sameness of appearance we ascribe to the possession of some similar qualities. To the similar qualities one common name is given ; and every thing which presents the same appearance to the eye that snow does, is called white ; where the word white is the sign of a quality inherent in each of numerous objects. If it were necessary to give a distinct name to each individual object, it is manifest that a complete language could never be formed, adequate to the vast variety of objects. The mind, therefore, comparing several indi- viduals with each other, and discovering in them many qualities in which they agree, combines them into one class or species, and includes them all under a common name. Thus, observing that many individuals agree in having an erect form, and in being endowed with reason, (omitting all those properties in which they disagree, such as size, height, or complexion), we combine them into one species, to which we give the name of man. Again, observing that other objects have certain qualities which belong to man, — laying aside the ideas of reason, speech, and other differences, and retaining only the ideas of organized body, sensation, and spontaneous motion, we comprise all these, along with man, under the common name of animal. By a similar process we comprehend animals, plants, and other objects under the name of body, and lastly of substance ; having omitted, successively, the peculiar qualities by which the several classes of objects are distinguished from one another. This power of considering certain qualities of an object apart from the rest is called Abstraction, and it is of so great importance as to have been considered by 1 6 some philosophers the charactenstical attribute of a rational nature. It was long disputed whether the mind is able to form abstract ideas; whether, for example, it can form the abstract idea of man, without attaching to the conceived object some particular size, height, complexion; — which particulars are not necessary attributes of man, but dis- tinguish one man from another. It is now generally admitted that the mind has no such power ; that it cannot form the idea of any thing, without ascribing to it some particular modification. In what manner then is it able, from the consideration of these particular ideas, to make its conclusions general ? By considering the particular ideas to be signs or representatives of all other ideas of the •same class. If the subject of our thoughts be man, and we attempt to form the idea of an object corresponding to this word, that idea must be particular ; but our reason- ings will not on that account be the less correct, if they do not in the least involve or depend upon those particular qualities which distinguish individuals from each other, and are not common to the species. When Euclid is proving the method of dividing a line into two equal parts, he draws a line, we may suppose, of an inch in length : this, which in itself is a particular line, is nevertheless, with regard to its signification, general ; since it is a sign or representative of all particular lines, so that what is proved of it is proved of all. And as that particular line becomes general by being made a sign, so the name line, and the idea of a line, either of which taken absolutely is particu- lar, by being signs are made general likewise. When it is affirmed that the whole is equal to the sum of all its parts, if, in order to comprehend this, we recur to ideas, all that we can do is to form a notion of some indi- vidual whole, divided into a certain number of parts of 17 which it is constituted; as of the year, divided into the four seasons. From this instance we can discern nothing more than the relation of equality between this particular whole and its component parts. If we take another example, we only perceive another particular truth. The same holds of a third and of a fourth. But the perception of ten thousand instances would not give us a knowledge of the universal truth, if the mind had not the power of considering things as signs, and particular ideas as repre- senting an infinity of others, resembling one another in those circumstances which are the subject of consideration, though dissimilar in every other. And hence it is that some ideas are particular in their nature, but general in their representation. It may be observed also that the attention of the mind is frequently extended no farther than to words ; which are the arbitrary signs of ideas. Our habits of thinking and speaking have gradually established in the mind such relations among the words we employ, as to enable us to carry on processes of reasoning by means of them, without attending in every instance to their particular signification. In talking, for example, of government, church, negotiation, conquest, we seldom present to our minds all the simple ideas of which these complex ones are composed : but all the common applications of these terms having become familiar to us, any unusual application of them is immedi- ately detected ; this detection induces doubt, and the mind is thereby led to have recourse to the ideas themselves, and to its knowledge of the things which the words signi- fy. Thus if, instead of saying that in war the weaker have always recourse to negotiation, we should say that they have always recourse to conquest, our familiarity with these words and with the relation of the ideas signified by them, makes us immediately perceive the absurdity of that proposition. b 3 18 But in matters that are not familiar to us, or are treated in an uncommon manner, and in such as are of an abstruse nature, the case is different; and we shall be continually liable to be imposed upon by words, unless we fully apprehend their meaning, and attend to the ideas which they are employed to represent. 5 19* The objects of Complex ideas may be classed under three heads ; substances, modes, and relations. The ideas of substances are such combinations of sim- ple ideas as represent things that subsist by themselves ; in which combination, the idea of substance, such as we are able to form of it, is always the first and chief. Thus, if to the idea of substance be joined that of a certain colour, with certain degrees of weight, hardness, ductility, and fusibility, we gain the idea of lead; and the ideas of spontaneous motion, thought, and of a certain figure, joined to substance, form the idea of man. Our knowledge of bodies is acquired solely by our per- ception of their qualities ; but since we cannot conceive how these qualities should subsist alone, we suppose them to exist in, and be supported by some common subject ; which support we denote by the name substance, though it is certain that of the nature of it we have in reality no distinct conception. And the same is true of the opera- tions of the mind, such as thinking, knowing, doubting: since we are not able to apprehend how they can subsist s Encyc. Brit. Art. Metaph. Campbell's Phil, of Rhet. vol. II. ch. vii. Hume's Treatise of Human Nature, Part I. §. vii. 19 of themselves or be produced by mere matter, we conclude that they are the actions of some other substance, which we call mind or spirit. So that, as we have no other idea of matter than as being something wherein the qualities which affect our senses subsist, if we suppose a substance wherein thinking, knowing, doubting and other powers subsist, we have as clear an idea of the substance of spirit, as we have of matter ; the one being supposed to be (without knowing what it is) the substratum to those simple ideas we have from without, and the other supposed (with a like igno- rance of what it is) to be the substratum to those operations which we experience in ourselves within. It appears then that our idea of material substance is not more dis- tinct than that of the substance of spirit ; and therefore from our not having a distinct knowledge of the substance of spirit, we can no more conclude its non-existence than we can, for the same reason, deny the existence of matter. Some of the qualities or properties of both are known to us from observation and experience ; but all attempts to ex- plain the manner in which these qualities exist together, and what is the cause, ground, or reason of their union, have hitherto, with regard both to matter and spirit, been made equally in vain. The things then immediately perceived by us and of which we have an adequate idea, are only qualities, which must belong to a subject ; and all that we know about this subject is, that it is that to which such qualities belong. In this the philosopher has no advantage above the vulgar : for as they perceive colour, figure, and motion by their senses, as well as he does ; and as both are equally certain that these qualities must have a subject in which they inhere, so the notions which both have of this subject are equally obscure. When the philosopher calls it a sub- stance, a substratum, or a subject of inhesion, these words 20 convey no further meaning than what is understood and expressed by saying, in common language, that it is a thing extended, solid, and moveable. It is therefore about qualities alone that we can reason with certainty, and it is sufficient for the purposes of life that we have of them an adequate knowledge. For as the substratum of all bodies seems to be the same, though we know not what it is ; and as one body is distinguished from another only by its qualities or powers, a knowledge of these is all that can be necessary to direct us in our use of the objects with which we are surrounded. h 20. Modes do not subsist by themselves, but are the adjuncts or affections of things to which they are referred: Thus inches and feet are modes of Space ; hours and days of Duration; units of Number. Also beauty, grati- tude, theft, murder are modes ; being the adjuncts of bodies or substances, on which they are dependent. There are two kinds of modes : (l) simple modes, our ideas of which are merely combinations of the same simple idea, as 'of a dozen, a score, which are only so many units added to- gether : (2) mixed modes, such as beauty, theft ; our ideas of which are formed by the combination of simple ideas of several hinds. 21. Space is conceived as having three dimensions, length, breadth, and thickness, which are generally called the three simple modes of space. In this respect it agrees with body : but the agreement proceeds no farther ; for space is destitute of solidity, without which the existence of body is inconceivable. Our idea of space is gained by the sight and touch ; and it is so closely associated with every visible and tangible object, that we cannot see nor feel, without conceiving that the objects seen or felt h Reid, Es. II. ch. xix. 21 occupy so much of space. Had we never possessed the senses of sight and touch, we could not have supposed the existence of space to be necessary to the existence of every thing. Our other senses as well as our internal powers of thought would have given us a knowledge of our own existence and of the existence of other things, but no object of those senses or of thought would have been conceived as occupying space. Space may properly be called the privation of body ; since it has itself no positive or actual existence. We have indeed a positive idea of it, as we have of silence, darkness, and other privations ; but it cannot be inferred from our having such an idea of space, that space itself is something real, any more than it can be inferred that darkness, silence, absence are real things, and have as positive an existence as light, sound, and body. Each different distance is a different mode of space. Men fix in their minds, for the use of measuring, the ideas of certain lengths, such as an inch, a yard, a mile ; and when these stated lengths are become familiar to their thoughts, they can without difficulty repeat them, and by adding them together enlarge their idea of space as much as they please. This power of repeating the idea of any distance and adding it to the former, without being ever able to come to a limit, gives us the idea of infinity. 22. Our idea of the place of a body is gained by ob- serving the relation of its distance from any two or more points, which, being considered as at rest, keep the same distance one from another. Thus, when we observe a thing to be at the same distance now, at which it was yes- terday, from two or more points with which it was then compared, and which have not, since the comparison was made, changed their position with respect to each other, the thing is said to be in the same place ; and to have 22 changed its place, if it have altered its distance from those points. The place of any thing is therefore determined by reference to the objects with which it is compared; and on that account a thing may have remained in the same place with regard to some objects, and at the same time have changed its place with regard to others. Thus in the cabin of a ship, different articles may have continued in the same place with regard to each other, while all of them, by the motion of the ship, may have changed their place with regard to the neighbouring land. But this modification of distance which is called place, being made by men for their common use, in order that they may de- signate the particular position of objects where they have occasion for such designation, they determine the place of an object by reference to such adjacent things as best serve their present purpose, without regarding other things which, for a different purpose, might better determine the place of the same object. Thus in a chess-board, the use of the designation of the place of each chessman being de- termined only within that checquered piece of wood, to designate it by reference to any thing else, would be use- less ; but if these chessmen were put up in a box, and it were asked where any particular chessman is, it would be proper to determine its place by reference to something else than the chess-board, such as the part of the room or closet which contains the box. That place is nothing but the relative position of things, will be readily admitted, when it is considered that we can have no idea of the place of the universe. Every part of the universe has place ; because it can be referred to other parts which we may suppose to be fixed. Thus every planet of our system has a place, which may be determined by ascertaining its distance from the Sun and from the orbits of the other planets ; and the place of the 23 system itself may be ascertained by referring it to two or more fixed stars: but all the systems taken as one whole can have no place ; because there is nothing else to which the position of that whole can be referred. It is true that the word place is sometimes used to denote that portion of space which any particular body occupies; and the universe has place in this sense, but not in the other and proper sense of the word. 23. Hours, days, years, time, eternity, are modes of duration. Our idea of duration, as. well as our belief of it, is acquired by the faculty of memory. It is essential to every thing remembered that it be something which is past ; and we cannot conceive a thing to be past, without conceiving some duration between it and the present. As soon therefore as we remember any thing, we acquire both an idea and belief of duration. 1 Having gained the idea of duration, the next thing to be done is to get some measure of it, whereby we may judge of its different lengths, and consider the distinct order wherein things exist; without which our knowledge would be confused, and History in particular would be rendered useless. This consideration of duration, as marked out by certain measures or periods, gives us the idea of time. In measuring extension, nothing more is required than the application of some standard or measure to the thing whose extension we wish to ascertain ; but in measuring duration this cannot be done, because no two different parts of duration can be put together to measure one another, and therefore no standard of it can be kept at hand, ready to be applied. Nothing then could serve properly for a measure of time, but what has 1 Reid, Es. III. ch. iii. 24 divided the whole length of its duration into equal portions by constantly repeated periods. On which account, the diurnal and annual revolutions of the Sun, as having been from the beginning of nature equal, regular, and observable by all mankind, have been with reason made use of for the measure of duration. But the distinc- tion of days and years having depended on the motion of the Sun, men are apt to suppose that without motion there could be no measure of time ; as if there were some necessary connection between them : whereas any period- ical appearance, if universally observable, would have distinguished the intervals of time as well as those that have been made use of. If the Sun, for instance, had been lighted up as a fire, after the same intervals of time which now pass between its successive arrivals at the same meridian, and had been extinguished twelve hours after ; —and if in the time of an annual revolution it had sensibly increased in brightness and heat, and so decreased again ; such regular appearances would have served to measure the periods of duration as well without motion, as with it. The idea of time is preparatory to that of eternity : for having got the ideas of certain lengths of duration, we can in our thoughts add them to one another as often as we please, and apply them, so added, to duration past or fu- ture; and this we can continue to do without limit, and suppose a duration exceeding the periods we can reckon, add as many as we will. 25. The idea of number is originally acquired by observing the union of similar qualities in two or more objects, and referring those objects, by abstraction, to the same class, and giving them a common name. Thus ob- serving a cow, a sheep, and a horse, we say that there are three animals ; but if the cow, sheep, and horse had no common properties, so that we could not reduce them to 25 some common species, we should never gain from them the idea of number. It is necessary to have observed that two objects are in some respects of the same kind, before we can number them, or make such a comparison of one with the other as to gain a knowledge of the relations of one and two. If a child saw a cow, a sheep, and a horse, his senses would no doubt enable him to distinguish them from one another ; and if he were asked the number of them, he might probably, from having learnt the names of number as signs, without affixing to them any idea of the things signified, readily answer: three ; but if he were further asked three what ? his answer would not be so ready. They are not three cows, three sheep, or three horses. When he has learnt that, from having some com- mon properties, they may be classed under the same species, then, and not before, he will be able to answer that they are three animals. In arithmetic, figures, which are combinations of units, are used merely as symbols ; and it is not necessary that the mind should concern itself with the things signified ; and it is observable that, whatever difficulty we may have had originally in acquiring the idea of number, the sim- ple modes of it are of all others the most distinct. Every the least variation makes each combination as clearly different from that which approaches nearest to it, as from the most remote ; two being as distinct from one as from a hundred, and the idea of two as distinct from that of one, as the idea of the magnitude of the earth is from that of one of its particles. This is not the case in other simple modes ; in which it is not easy to distinguish between two modes that approach one another and yet are really different. For who will undertake to discern accurately the various shades of colour, or form distinct ideas of every the least difference in extension ? C 2G Since numeration consists in adding units together,, and these combinations of units have no variety or differ- ence except as being more or less ; names or marks for each distinct combination are more necessary than in any other sort of ideas. For without such names, we could not make use of numbers in reckoning ; especially where the combination is made up of a great multitude of units, which, if put together without a name to distinguish each precise sum, would form only a heap in confusion. Hence, it has been observed that uncivilized tribes cannot reckon far, on account of the scantiness of their language, and when they wish to express greater numbers, they point to the hairs of the head, to denote a great multitude which they cannot number : — and also that children, for want of names to mark the several progressions of num- bers, and from not having yet the faculty to arrange them in regular order and retain them in their memories, do not begin to number very early, or proceed in it far, till after they are well furnished with a stock of other ideas ; and they are often known to reason well, and have clear con- ceptions of other things, before they can reckon twenty. For before they can have a clear idea of that number, they must know the distinct names of all the preceding numbers as they stand in order ; and wherever this fails, the chain is broken, and the progress in numbering can go no farther. So that to reckon right, it is required that the mind dis- tinguish ideas which differ only by an unit, and also that it remember in their exact order the names of the several combinations from an unit to the number which is to be reckoned: in either of which if it fails, the process of numbering will be disturbed, and there will remain only the confused idea of multitude ; but the ideas necessary to distinct numeration will not be attained. 27 £6» By means of number we are furnished with the most distinct idea of infinity that we are capable of ac- quiring. For even in space and duration, when the mind pursues the idea of infinity, it makes use of the repetitions of number ; — as of millions of miles or years ; which are so many distinct terms, kept best by number from running into confusion; and when we have added together as many millions as we please of known lengths of space or duration, the clearest idea we can get of infinity is given us by the incomprehensible remainder of numbers that may still be added, affording no prospect of termination* Hence, our idea of infinity is in a great measure negative. For when we endeavour to form an idea of infinite space or duration, we usually at first take some large idea as, perhaps, of millions of miles or years, which possibly we multiply several times. All that we thus amass in our thoughts is positive, and is the assemblage of a great number of positive ideas of space or duration. But of what remains beyond this, we have no more a distinct positive notion than a mariner has of the depth of the sea, who having let down a large portion of his line reaches no bottom: whereby he knows the depth to be so many fathoms and more; but how many more, remains un- known. And if he could always supply new line, and find the plummet sink without ever stopping, he would be in a situation similar to ours when we are endeavouring to gain a complete and positive idea of infinity. So much as the mind comprehends of any space or duration, it has a positive idea of; but in endeavouring to make it infinite, it being always enlarging, always advancing, the idea is still imperfect and incomplete. For which reason it is not an unmeaning subtlety to say that we ought to distinguish between the idea of the infinity of space, and the idea of a space infinite ; the first being nothing but the idea of a 28 supposed endless progression of lengths of space repeated as often as we please ; but to have in the mind the idea of a space infinite,, is to suppose that the mind has already passed over, and actually has in view the complete series of the repeated lengths of space; which series must therefore be terminated, in the mind's conception ; but to be infinite, and at the same time terminated, involves a manifest contradiction. If our idea of infinity be gained from the power we have of repeating without end our own ideas, it may be asked, why we do not attribute infinity to other ideas as well as to those of space and duration; since they may be as easily repeated as the other, and yet no one ever thinks of infinite sweetness or infinite whiteness, though he can repeat the ideas of sweet or white, as frequently as those of a yard, or a day. The answer is, that an idea of infinity cannot be gained by the repetition of any ideas except those which may be considered as having parts, and as capable of increase by the addition of other parts ; because by the repetition of such ideas alone, there is a continued enlargement without end. To the largest idea of exten- sion or duration that we at present have, the addition of any the least part makes an increase ; but if to our idea of whiteness we add another of equal whiteness, they become as it were embodied, and the idea is not at all increased. Those ideas therefore that consist not of parts, cannot be augmented : but space, duration, and number, being capable of increase by repetition and of progression without end, lead our minds to the thought of infinity. 27. There is no limit to the variety of ideas which may be classed under the head of modes : and few of them, comparatively, have distinct names. Walking, run- ning, leaping, and many others are modes of motion ; and in like manner, of colours, sounds, tastes, smells, there is an 98 endless variety of modes, a few of which are distinguished by names, to serve the purposes of language ; and under each name a large class of modes is comprehended, not distinguished from one another by separate names. Thus the term whiteness is applied to many shades of colour ; and bitterness comprehends modes of taste affecting the palate with many gradations of unpleasantness. Also of pleasure and pain there are various modes, such as joy, hope, fear, envy, shame. Reverie, attention, study, are modes of thinking, corresponding to the degrees of remis- sion or intention with which the powers of the mind are exerted ; the term reverie being applied, when ideas float in the mind without reflection or regard ; attention, when the ideas that offer themselves are taken notice of, and, as it were, registered in the memory ; and study, when the mind with great earnestness fixes its view on any subject, considers it on all sides, and will not be called off by the ordinary solicitation of other ideas. Which different degrees of intention and remission, of which the mind is capable, lead us to conclude that thinking is the action, not the essence of the soul, since the operations of agents easily admit of intention and remission; but the essences of things are not conceived capable of such variation. 28. Mixed modes are combinations of simple ideas of several kinds ; and they are made for convenience, and dispatch in language. Thus we express the whole cere- mony of crowning a king by the word coronation, without making an enumeration of every particular belonging to it. Thus also the use of such words as revenge, reprieve, appeal, facilitates our communication with one another, by rendering unnecessary the mention of all the passions and forms which are included in the complex ideas severally expressed by those words. Mixed modes are therefore made by the arbitrary combination of several ideas, c3 30 whenever it becomes convenient to comprehend them under one name; although, naturally, those ideas may- have no more connection with one another, than others have, which have not been formed into similar combi- nations. Thus parricide is used to denote the killing of a father ; but no word is in use to denote the killing of a son or a neighbour; though the idea of killing has no more connection in nature with the idea of the former relation, than it has with that of the other relations. It is the having a name therefore that gives unity to a mixed mode ; no combination of ideas being generally considered as one complex idea, unless it have an appropriate word to express it. Hence the act of killing a son or neighbour, having no name affixed to it, is not taken for a particular complex idea, nor as a distinct species of action from that of killing any other person. Our ideas of mixed modes are acquired 1. by observa- tion of things themselves : — as by seeing men wrestle and fence, we gain the idea of wrestling and fencing ; by see- ing a king crowned, we gain the idea of coronation. 2. By invention, or the voluntary combination of several simple ideas in our own minds: — thus he that invented print- ing or etching, had formed the complex idea of it in his own mind, before it existed. 3. By explanation or defini- tion, that is, by enumerating the several ideas of which the mixed mode is composed; whereby clear ideas of modes such as sacrilege or murder may be conveyed to the minds of men who never saw those acts committed. Since mixed modes are made by men for the purpose of readily communicating their thoughts to one another, they usually make such collections of ideas into complex modes, and affix names to them, as they have frequent use of in their business and conversation ; leaving others, which they have seldom occasion to mention, uncombined' 31 ' . and without names. And if we examine which of our simple ideas have had most mixed modes made out of them and distinguished by names, we shall find that they are those of thinking, motion, and power ; for these com- prehend all actions both of body and mind, and as our conversation and laws principally respect human actions, it is necessary we should have modes relative to them, that we may be able to express our thoughts concerning them with convenience and expedition. The purpose for which such modes are formed affords a reason also why in every language many particular words are in use, to which there are none that exactly correspond in other languages. ' For peculiar customs exist in every country and give rise to peculiar modes, with names annexed to them; but in other countries, where the same customs do not prevail, those peculiar modes have not been made, and consequently they have no words to express them. Thus oGTpaKKT^o^ being a punishment peculiar to the Greeks, there is not in any other language a word corresponding to it : and it is manifest that such terms as jury, artillery, and the names of all modern inventions, cannot be expressed in transla- tion by any single words of Greek or Latin. Moreover, customs are continually changing, so that while some combinations of ideas fall into disuse, others are formed, and new names are introduced to express them ; by which means a continual and gradual change takes place in the vocabulary of every language. 29. Under the term Relations those ideas are com- prehended which arise from observing the relation or comparison of things, one with another. Thus the idea of Nobility is relative; since no one can be Noble, except by comparison with others. When two terms as father and child correspond to each other, so that the idea of one 32 naturally introduces that of the other,, they are called correlative terms : and where a correlative term is not in use, the relation, though equally real, is often not per- ceived. Thus the idea of a Dictator is relative, since the word denotes a person exercising authority over others ; but this relation is not so obvious as that implied in the word King, which has the term subject correlative to it, Also there are many words which seem to be absolute and to stand for positive ideas, and yet imply a tacit relation, Old, young, great, little, strong, weak, are of this sort; which appear to denote positive ideas, and yet in reality imply a tacit reference to certain standards settled in the mind. Thus some animals are called old, at an age at which others are young, and a horse, which in one country would be called large, might be thought small in other countries ; because reference is made to different ideas of duration and size settled in the mind as belonging in the course of nature to the several sorts of animals. In order to have an adequate idea of the relation of two things, it is not necessary that we know all the qualities that belong to the things related, but such of them only as form the grounds of the relation. These may consist in a few simple ideas ; whereas to have a per- fect knowledge of the substances related, we must know all the qualities belonging to them. Thus, in comparing two men in reference to a common parent, it is easy to form the idea of brothers, without having a perfect idea of man, in which are united the ideas of substance, figure, thinking, willing, and others ; an accurate perception of which is not necessary to an adequate idea of this relation. And hence, persons may agree as to the grounds of relation, who disagree in their ideas of the things related. The ideas which may be classed under the head of Relations are of almost infinite variety, since there is no 33 simple idea which is not capable of a great number of considerations in reference to other ideas; for example, in the same person may be included the relations of father, son, brother, friend, enemy, master, subject, and many others ; on account of which variety, it is difficult to comprehend them all under a few general classes. Many have reference to time or place, and are expressed by such words as old, young, above, below, near, distant. The relations of cause and effect are also numerous ; as when we observe that fluidity, which did not exist in lead, is produced in it by the application of heat, we call heat the cause, and fluidity the effect ; and in like manner the idea of this relation is always presented to the mind, whenever we consider one thing operating so as to produce another which did not previously exist. Other relations may be called proportional, which arise from observing different degrees of the same simple idea, and are expressed by such words as whiter, sweeter, less, equal, more : others are natural relations, such as those of father, brothers, countrymen, founded upon the considera«< tion of their consanguinity or origin, and which being unalterable, make the relations depending upon them as lasting as the subjects to which they belong : others are instituted relations, as those of a subject, a general, a patron; which differ from natural relations by being alterable, and separable from the persons to whom they have belonged, though the persons themselves, between whom the relation has ceased, may still exist ; as a general may resign the command of an army, or a subject withdraw from his country and pay allegiance to another king. — Lastly, moral relations have reference to the conduct of men, and arise from observing whether that conduct is conformable or not to certain Rules or Laws by which our judgment is formed of it. The Laws by which we thus judge of the 34 rectitude of human conduct, are (1) the Divine Law ; (2) the Civil Law ; (3) the Law of opinion or reputation ; all of which are accompanied with necessary enforcements of rewards and punishments. Of these the Divine Law is the most perfect and comprehensive, and is the only true test by which men ought to judge of their own actions, whether they be morally good or evil ; that is, whether as duties, or sins, they are likely to be followed by happiness or misery, awarded to them by the Almighty. But since it is not the object of this Law to prescribe minute regula- tions respecting many transactions of men among one another which are subjects not for moral precept but conventional agreement, and, still more, since the penalties annexed to the breach of God's Laws are reserved for a future state, and it is often found that men disregard con- sequences which are not immediate; — on both these ac- counts the Civil Law is necessary, that the commonwealth may be able to protect the lives, liberties, and possessions, of those who live according to it, and may visit violations of it with ready punishment. — Thirdly, the Law of opinion ox reputation is that which greatly influences men, not only as it pertains to many things of which the other Laws do not take cognizance, but in more important cases in which it is at variance with them. And though many are able to banish reflection as to the consequences which will follow the violation of the Divine Law, and flatter them- selves with the hope of escaping punishments due from the Civil Law, yet of those who offend against the Law pf fashion and opinion, few are so insensible as to disregard public censure, or be happy while they are the objects of dislike with their own particular society. SO. The Association of ideas is that connection of them in the mind, by means of which the presence of one naturally introduces others, which have been joined with it 35 by some kind of relation. The principles on which the association of ideas depends appear to be chiefly resem* blance, contrast, contiguity of time or place, cause and effect, and habit : but as there is no possible relation among the objects of our knowledge which may not serve to connect them together in the mind, every enumeration of the principles of this association must be incomplete. It may also be remarked that the association of ideas is an expression which has been applied in a sense much more extensive than the words themselves strictly justify ; being made to comprehend not ideas only, but every passion and affection of which the mind is susceptible : — \ the memory also, the judgment, in a word every internal operation of the mind is regulated in some degree by the influence of this principle. The effect of resemblance in directing the train of our ideas is brought to our notice by instances of continual occurrence. When we read of any event, we are naturally led to think of other events which have occurred similar to it : if we meet a stranger who resembles one of our friends, the conception of that friend is immediately suggested: the view of a landscape recalls the idea of similar scenes which are familiar to us. To this principle we must ascribe the use of similies, metaphors, and all the figurative language of poetry. When the zephyrs laugh, or the forest frowns, it is to the suggestion of objects by analogous objects, that figurative expressions of this sort owe their origin. Words also suggest other words of similar sound ; and hence, from the accidental agreement of their verbal signs, ideas are excited and trains of thought, which otherwise would not have arisen. On this account, our thoughts which usually govern our lan- guage, are themselves in some measure governed by that very language over which they seem to exercise unlimited 36 command. In rhyme, one sound suggests another, and to this recurrence of sounds it is evident that the train of thought in the poet must be in a great degree subservient. Alliteration also, or a similarity in the initial sounds of words, has an influence on the succession of our thoughts similar to that which is exercised by the concluding syllables of verse. The effects of contrast, as an associating principle, are equally obvious. Intense cold makes us think of heat, and wish for it ; the thoughts of a traveller in the desert, suffering from hunger and thirst, naturally recur to the abundance which he has formerly enjoyed, but which is now beyond his reach. The palace and the cottage, the cradle and the grave, poverty and wealth, severally suggest one another in ready succession. Of moral reflections, none are so common as those which are founded on the instability of mortal greatness, the frailty of beauty, the precariousness of life ; — all which reflections are evidently the result of that principle of suggestion by contrast, which we are considering. The Roman, who saw the imperial victor move along in the splendour of conquest, must have thought of disaster, before he was led to moralize on the briefness of earthly triumph. And if a feeling of melancholy has ever arisen at the sight of youth and health, it can only have been suggested by the oppo- site ideas of age and sickness which are destined to follow. This transition, in our trains of thought, from one extreme to its opposite, has the happy effect of tempering our emotions ; so that while salutary reflections are excited in some men, others are supplied, from the very excess of misery, with internal sources of hope. Contiguity of time or place is, of all the principles of association, the most frequent and extensive in its opera- tion. Contiguity of time forms the whole calendar of the 3? great multitude of mankind, who pay little attention to aeras of chronology, but date events by each other, and speak of what happened in the time of some rebellion, or great Election, or frost, ov famine. Even with those who are more accustomed to use, on great occasions, the stricter dates of months and years, this association of events, as near to each other, forms the bond for uniting in the memory a multitude of scattered facts, which it would have been impossible to remember by the separate relation of each to an insulated point of time. — It is the same with contiguity of place* To think of one part of a familiar landscape, is to recall the rest in immediate succession. On this species of relation have been founded systems of artificial memory, which prove, by the facilities of remem- brance which they afford, the influence that is exercised on the train of our thoughts by local association. From the same cause arises the pleasure we enjoy in visiting classical ground ; in beholding the scenes of great events, or places which have been dignified by the residence of men whom we are accustomed to revere. "I know not" (says Cicero, speaking of his visit to the academy at Athens) " whether it be a natural feeling, or an illusion of the imagination founded on habit, that we are more powerfully affected by the sight of those places which have been much frequented by illustrious men, than when we either listen to the recital, or read the detail, of their great actions. At this moment, I feel strongly that emotion which I speak of. I see before me the form of Plato, who was wont to dispute in this place : these gardens not only recall him to my memory, but seem to present his very person to my senses. I fancy to myself, that here stood Speusippus ; there Xenocrates, and here, on this bench, sat his disciple Polemo. To me, our antient Senate-House seems peopled with the like visionary D 38 forms ; for, often, when I enter it, the shades of Scipio, o£ Cato, and of Laelius, rise to my imagination/* — In Sparta, an oration was every year pronounced at the tomb of Leonidas. In such a scene, and with such an object before them, we cannot doubt that deeper emotions were felt by the orator and by the assembled nation who listened to him, than would have been felt, if the same language had been addressed from any other place, un- connected with so sacred a remembrance. The connection between cause and effect is so intimate that it is scarcely possible to direct our thoughts to either of them singly. When we hear of extraordinary conduct in any person, we naturally conjecture the reasons of it, and the probable consequences : when we see a wound, we think of the accident that caused it, and of the pain that follows; — when we hear of a battle, our thoughts are turned to the causes which have preceded, and to its pro- bable effects. Lastly, ideas that have been often joined together in the mind, though they have no natural connection, become so associated that one of them will naturally introduce the others, from the influence of habit. In language spoken or w ? ritten, the mind passes imperceptibly from the words heard or the characters seen to the things signified. Habit gives to those who have long been practised in extem- porary elocution the command not of words merely, but of thoughts and judgments which appear like the calcula- tions of long reflection. All the divisions of a subject present themselves to the orator at once ; image after image arises to illustrate it ; and proper words in proper places embody his sentiments, without any apparent effort k De Finibus, Lib. V. ad init. 39 of his own. Other proofs of the power of habit may be observed in the feats of the circus, and in playing upon instruments of music. The musician must direct innu- merable motions of the fingers in one particular succession. There is only one arrangement of those motions that is right, while there are thousands that are wrong and would spoil the music. Yet the arrangement of those motions gives him no trouble of thought : having a dis- tinct idea of the tune, and a will to play it, the motions of the fingers appear to arrange themselves, so as to answer his intention. 31. Since the moral characters of men as well as their intellectual attainments depend greatly on the trains of thought which are allowed to occupy the mind, it is of the highest importance to give them a right direction, as far as the direction of them is in our power. For though ideas are connected with one another by the laws of asso- ciation, and often take their own course without check or direction, yet by an active effort of the mind the connection may be broken, and particular objects be fixed upon for its attention in preference to others. Those whose minds are occupied with a train of low and base thoughts, or with visionary speculations, are not likely to become qualified for any noble or active employment ; while others gain the command over their thoughts, regulate them in the pursuit of right objects, and arrive at excellence in morality and knowledge. 32. When any ideas occur in connection with one an- other, it is important to inquire whether there be any real ground for the connection, in reason or nature. If there be, it is the office of our reason to keep them united ; for such associations constitute the greatest part of useful truths, and the mind possesses them ever ready for applica- tion. But other connections, formed by caprice or custom. 40 are often the sources of error, superstition and misery ; and if such associations have been long formed, they become too strong to be broken. Thus, if children be frightened with stories of ghosts appearing in the dark, the idea of ghosts becomes in time so associated with the idea of darkness, that it is often not in their power to separate them after they have become men ; and it is difficult for them to retain per- fect composure when they are alone in darkness, though they are fully convinced in their judgments of the absurdity of the tales which originally frightened them. In like man- ner, many remarkable antipathies may be observed in men, some of which appear to be natural, and to depend on original constitution, but the greater part of them may be traced to some accidental association : and it is probable that of those which are accounted natural, many have arisen from early impressions which would have been acknowledged to be the causes of them, if they had been noticed and remembered. A grown person, surfeited with honey, cannot think of it afterwards without dislike and sickness ; had this happened to him when a child, the same effects would have followed, but the cause would have been mistaken, and the antipathy accounted natural. A person who has been injured, or fancies that he has been injured, by another, sometimes ruminates upon it so much that the idea of the aggressor never afterwards occurs without being accompanied by an idea of the injury, even though it has been repaired, and its effects, otherwise, have long ceased to be felt. Hence hatreds exist, and quarrels are propagated and continued, often from slight occasions. When a painful combination of ideas is settled in the mind, it is frequently beyond the power of reason to relieve us from the effects of it. The Mother, who has lost her child, receives no consolation from intimations of 41 the uselessness of sorrow : reason cannot prevail over it, however apt she may be to hearken to it in other cases ; time alone can wear away by disuse the sense of former enjoyment of the child's presence, and at length separate in her memory the idea of pain for its loss from the idea of the child. 33. The effects of a wrong and groundless association of ideas are perceived in matters even more important than those which have been mentioned. What evils have accrued to mankind from the idea of infallibility having become annexed to persons or societies ! — whose doctrines, through the influence of that idea, demanded assent with- out inquiry, and held the world for many centuries in ignorance and bondage. In the schools, no philosophy was tolerated in op- position to that of Aristotle ; insomuch that decrees were issued, prohibiting all persons, under pain of death, from teaching any maxim contrary to Aristotle, and other ancient authors received and approved. A similar dread of inquiry, with worse effects, prevailed with respect to religion. Hence, in a long period of darkness, Christianity was corrupted by the mixture of human opinions claiming equal authority with the word of God. And the evil of such debasement of truth is far from being confined to the mischief of the error while it continues : if ever, by any means, that part which is erroneous be detected, those who have weakly and passively derived their most im- portant opinions from habit or authority, are apt to lose their reverence for the truth itself on which the error has been grafted, and rashly fall a prey to that sceptical philo- sophy, which teaches that all opinions and all principles of action rest on authority alone, and owe their influence to education and example. d3 42 Again, in political controversies, what effect is fre- quently produced by a name, which, without any just or ascertained grounds, has become associated with particular opinions ! — a name originally affixed by the invention of enemies, or perhaps from accident. Many, who are unable to understand the distinctions which may have given rise to opposite names, and though the dispute be on subjects which neither they nor their opponents com- prehend, yet are impelled to mutual dislike; — many, who, but for the invention of the names, would scarcely have known that their opinions differed. That which thus captivates the reasons of men is the association of ideas which have no real or natural alliance to one another, but which, by education, custom, and the clamour of party, have become so united in their minds that they appear to be one idea, and have the force of an established and cer- tain truth. This wrong association, whilst they are under the influence of it, makes them incapable of conviction, and they applaud themselves as champions for truth, while they are contending for error ; their reasonings are per- verted by it, and their minds disturbed by groundless animosities. 1 34>. Words are the arbitrary signs of ideas. Since the communication of thought can only be made by external signs, and men are furnished with organs fitted to frame articulate sounds, these are used by them as the means of 1 On the subject of the association of ideas , see Professor Brown's Lectures, vol. II. p. 196 .... 456. Reid on the train of thought in the mind, Es. iv., ch. iv. Stewart's Elem. Phil. ch. v. 43 communication, and are the best that could be used for that purpose, on account of their quickness and variety. There is therefore no natural connection between words and ideas, for, in that case, all nations would speak the same language : the connection is arbitrary, and arises from the people of a country agreeing to express, as nearly as possible, the same idea by the same word, which by con- stant use become so linked together that the word in- stantly brings the idea to the mind. Words are properly the signs of ideas in the mind of the speaker. The purpose of language requires that they should be so ; for when a man speaks to another, it is with the intention of communicating his own ideas, and not other ideas of which he has no knowledge. Hence the same word is sometimes used by different persons with different ideas annexed to it. A child, having noticed nothing in gold but a yellow colour, applies the word gold to the colour only, and therefore applies it to all objects which have that colour : another observes great weight in gold, and understands, by the word, a heavy, yellow substance : a third adds fusibility and malleability to these qualities, and understands, by the word, a heavy, yellow, fusible, and malleable substance. Each of these uses the word to express the exact idea which he has applied to it, and no other. But though words can properly signify nothing but ideas that are in the mind of the speaker, yet in their thoughts men give them a tacit reference to two other things. First, they suppose their words to be marks of the same ideas in the minds of those with whom they com- municate, otherwise the purpose of language would be defeated; and, in truth, many disputes have arisen in con- sequence of the hearer and speaker attaching different ideas to the same word. Secondly, they suppose that the 44 ideas, expressed by their words, correspond to the reality of things ; as, when the word sun is used, they suppose that a real object exists, which has excited the idea denoted by that word. 35. It is evident that the purpose of language cannot be gained, unless the same word stand for the same idea in the minds of the speaker and hearer. To effect this, it is necessary that words, for the most part, be general terms, so that one name may comprehend a great number of individual objects. If every object had a dis- tinct name applied to it, it would not only be impossible for the human mind to retain the innumerable names that must be framed, but, if it were possible, it would be use- less ; for no two persons would have the same idea in their minds, with the same name annexed, of any particular thing which was known only to one of them; so that a great part of their knowledge would not be communicable to each other. Particular things are therefore not distin- guished by names, except where convenience requires it ; as, in their own species, men make use of proper names, because they have perpetual occasion to distinguish one per- son from another: countries also, cities, rivers, and other the like distinctions of place have usually, for the same reason, peculiar names; they being things which men have often occasion to mark particularly, in their discourses with one another. 36. Since there is no natural connection between words and ideas, it is often necessary to have the meaning of words explained. This may be done in four ways, which are severally taken according to the nature of the word, or as the occasion requires. 1. A word may be explained by another word synonimous with it ; thus, if a person wished to learn the meaning of the word albus, he might be told that it meant white. 2. By naming the ob- 45 ject, to the idea of which the word is annexed ; thus he might be told that albus denoted the colour of snow or milk. 3. By presenting to his senses the object itself; as by shewing him snow or milk, and saying that albus denoted their colour. 4. By definition, that is, explaining the meaning of one word by the use of several other words not synonimous with it. The word albus, being the sign of a simple idea, cannot be explained by this method, because the several terms of a definition signify distinct ideas, and therefore cannot represent together an idea which has no composition. Words denoting complex ideas may be defined, by enumerating the simple ideas of which they are composed. Thus the idea of a rainbow may be communicated to a person who has never seen one, by describing its figure and the arrangement of its colours ; but this cannot be done, unless he be able to conceive the several simple ideas corresponding to the particular parts of the description. If, being born blind, he has never gained the idea of colour, it is evident that no description could communicate to him a complex idea of which the idea of colour is ne- cessarily a component part. 37. Though language furnishes the best means that we possess for the communication of our thoughts, its re- presentation of them is in many respects imperfect ; and besides the unavoidable imperfections attached to it, men are guilty of several faults and neglects, by which words are rendered less clear in their meaning than naturally they need be. One fault is the use of words without any distinct meaning at all, though perhaps, properly, very important meanings belong to them. Such words as liberty, glory, en- thusiasm, are in frequent use ; but if many of those who use them were asked what they mean by them, they would be 46 at a loss for an answer. This insignificancy in their words makes the discourse of men often unintelligible, especially in moral matters, where the words for the most part stand for arbitrary collections of ideas not regularly and per- manently united in nature, and are therefore frequently used without any thought of their meaning, or at least with very obscure and uncertain ideas annexed to them. Hence, in disputation with men who use words without a fixed meaning, it is impossible ever to convince them that they are in the wrong ; it being as difficult to draw those men out of their mistakes, who have no settled notions, as it would be to dispossess a vagrant of his habitation, who has no settled abode. Another fault is inconstancy in the use of words. In many books, especially of controversy, we may observe the same words used sometimes for one collection of ideas, and sometimes for another ; the effect of which is a per- plexity similar to that which would take place if men, in their accompts with one another, made the characters of numbers stand sometimes for one, and sometimes for an- other collection of units. A third abuse of language is an affected obscurity, by either applying old words to new and unusual significa- tions, or introducing new terms without need, or, where there is need, introducing them without explanation. Since words are no man's private possession, but are de- signed to be the means of common intercourse, it is not for any one, at his pleasure, to change their meaning ; or at least, if there be a necessity of using any word in a new sense, he is bound to give notice of it. Propriety of speech chiefly consists in adherence to the common use of words ; it is that which makes our thoughts communicable with the greatest ease and advantage, and therefore de- serves some part of our attention and study. if The use of figurative language in subjects which require to be treated with accuracy and plainness, is a great cause of obscurity. If the aim of a speaker or writer be to give delight rather than information and improve- ment, such ornaments can scarcely be condemned : but where truth is concerned, and in all discourses which profess to convey accurate knowledge, figurative ex- pressions tend to mislead the judgment, and ought to be avoided, as being unsuitable to such subjects. 38. A knowledge of these and other abuses of lan- guage implies a knowledge also of the remedies which may be applied to them ; and a powerful motive will not be wanting to apply the obvious remedies, if we consider what evils have arisen from such abuses, what bitter and frivolous contests owe their origin to them, and how the prevalence of real knowledge and truth has been thereby impeded. Most disputes are merely verbal. If the terms used in them were defined, and the same meaning affixed to them by both parties, disputes would generally end of themselves, and the way to knowledge as well as peace be more open than it is. In the mean time, where shall we find any, either controversial debate, or familiar discourse, concerning government, liberty, faith, justice, and the like, without observing the different ideas which the disputants have annexed to these words ? Hence in the interpreta- tion of laws, human or divine, there is no conclusion ; comments have furnished matter for other comments: and this evil is chiefly owing to caprice or negligence in limiting, distinguishing, and varying the signification of words. 39- Knowledge consists chiefly in the perception of the agreement or disagreement of our ideas. When we know that white is not black, we perceive that these two ideas do not agree : when we know that the three angles 48 of a triangle are equal to two right angles, we perceive that equality to two right angles has a necessary agree- ment with the three angles of a triangle. Knowledge is of two kinds, actual and habitual. Ac- tual knowledge is the perception which the mind has of the agreement or disagreement of any ideas, from its pre- sent view of them, without the assistance of memory. Habitual knowledge is that which is lodged in the memory, and is such that whenever it is recalled, the mind apprehends and assents to it without hesitation. Thus a man may be said to know all those truths which are lodged in his memory; having been acquired by a foregoing clear perception, and of which the mind is fully assured, as often as it has occasion to reflect on them. For our finite understandings being able to think distinctly but on one thing at a time, if men had no more knowledge than what actually occupied their thoughts, they would all be very ignorant, since he that knew most would know but one truth. Habitual knowledge is of two kinds : the first is of such truths laid up in the memory as the mind actually and fully perceives, whenever they occur to it ; and this is the case with all truths of which we have an immediate knowledge, such as that the whole is greater than its part, where a view of the ideas immediately discovers their agreement. The other kind of knowledge is, when hav- ing once been convinced of the agreement or disagreement of any ideas, we retain the memory of the conviction, without the proofs. Thus a man, to whom it has once been proved that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles, still knows this to be true, though he may have forgotten the proof. And, if reliance can be placed upon the memory, this kind of knowledge is as certain as the other. For the immutability of the same 4.9 relations between the same immutable things, makes it certain that what was once known to be true must always be true. 39* Knowledge, considered with respect to its evidence, is intuitive, demonstrative, or sensitive. Intuitive knowledge is when the mind perceives the agreement or disagreement of two ideas immediately by themselves, without the intervention of any other. Thus we have an intuitive knowledge that two straight lines cannot inclose a space, and that the whole is greater than any of its parts. Such truths the mind perceives at first sight, and this kind of knowledge is the clearest and most certain of which we are capable. Demonstrative knowledge is that perception of the agreement or disagreement of two ideas, which is acquired by the help of intermediate ideas. Thus, we cannot im- mediately perceive that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles, because they cannot be brought to an immediate comparison by the application of one to another, or juxta-position ; but finding some other angles which are equal to the three angles of a triangle and at the same time to two right angles, we thus gain a proof of the proposition that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles. Demonstrative knowledge is dependent on intuitive ; for in the above process it is necessary that the perception of the agreement between the three angles of a triangle and the other angles, and of these with two right angles> should be gained by several successive steps, the know- ledge of each of which is intuitive. Hence demonstra- tive knowledge is not so easily gained as intuitive; for there are often many steps in a demonstration; all of which it is necessary to remember, that we may at last perceive the agreement or disagreement of the ideas in E 50 question : whereas intuitive knowledge contains only one self-evident step. And for this reason also, demonstrative knowledge is not always so clear as intuitive ; for since the intuitive perception of the agreement or disagreement of the intermediate ideas, in every step of the demonstration, must be carried exactly in the mind, and we must be careful that no part is left out, which, in long deductions and the use of many proofs, we cannot be certain that the memory •will' always exactly accomplish, therefore it comes to pass that this is not so clear as intuitive knowledge, and men sometimes embrace error for demonstration. Lastly, sensitive knowledge is derived from the percep- tion of external objects, which correspond to ideas formed of them in the mind. Since perception by the senses is sometimes fallacious, and misleads men to think that objects affect their senses when no such objects exist, this kind of knowledge is, in particular cases, less certain than the former. But when the evidence of one sense is con- firmed by other senses, and when we have the accumulated evidence of all men, agreeing that their senses are affected in the same manner by particular objects, our knowledge of the existence of such objects amounts to certainty, if we are capable of arriving at certainty in any thing. 40. If knowledge consists in the perception of the agreement or disagreement of our ideas, it follows that our knowledge may be less extensive than our ideas, since the perception of their agreement or disagreement is also necessary. Our intuitive knowledge is evidently very limited, there being few things whose agreement or dis- agreement we can see without the help of intermediate ideas. Nor does our demonstrative knowledge reach to the whole extent of our ideas ; because the intermediate ideas, necessary to form the connection between any two ideas which we wish to compare, cannot always be found. We 54? cannot, for example, find intermediate ideas to prove why thought in the mind should produce bodily motion; of which therefore we should have no knowledge, were it not proved by experience. Sensitive knowledge, reaching no farther than to the actual existence of things present to the senses, is more limited than either of the former. 41. The causes therefore of the narrow extent of our knowledge appear to be chiefly three; the want of ideas; the want of a discoverable connection between the ideas we have; and the want of tracing and examining our ideas, to see whether they agree or not. First, we are ignorant of many things from the want of ideas. Our senses, which are the chief inlets of know- ledge, are disproportionate to the vast extent of things; some of which are hid from us by being too remote, and others by being too minute. When we consider the dis- tance of the known visible parts of the world, and the rea- sons we have to think that what lies within our view is but a small part of the universe, we become sensible to what a point, in comparison with the rest, our knowledge of external objects is limited. Even if we confine our con- templation to this system of our Sun and the bodies that move around it, what innumerable vegetables, animals, and intellectual beings, different from tliGse of our earth, pro- bably exist in other planets, from the knowledge of which we are who ly excluded ! And if numerous objects in the universe are so remote as to escape our notice, others are no less concealed from us by being minute. Our want of precise and distinct ideas of the primary qualities of bodies, keeps us in ignorance of their powers and operations. If we could discover the figure, size, texture, and motion of the constituent particles of bodies, we should know, with- out trial, their operations upon one another as well as we know the properties of a watch or a steam-engine. Thus, 52 if we knew the mechanical affections of the particles of hemlock and opium, we should be able to say beforehand that hemlock will kill, and opium cause sleep, as well as a watchmaker can say that, if certain parts of a watch be filed off, it will lose its motion and be useless, or that if any thing be laid on the balance, it will prevent the watch from going, as long as it remains there. It would then also be no more difficult to understand why silver and gold are dissolved by particular fluids, than it is for a smith to understand why the turning of one key, and not the turning of another, will open a lock. But while we are destitute of senses acute enough to discover the minute particles of bodies, and to give us ideas of their mechanical affections, we can have no knowledge of their properties and ways of operation beyond that which is acquired by slow and limited experience. And if our knowledge is thus imperfect with regard to material things, it is still more so with regard to the exist- ence and nature of spirits. By reflecting on the operations of our own minds, we are able to form a few superficial ideas of spirit, and thence, the best we can collect, of God the eternal author of all Spirits ; but we have no certain information even of the existence of other Spirits, except by Revelation ; much less have we distinct ideas of their several powers and conditions, wherein they differ from one another and from us. Secondly, another cause of ignorance is the want of a discoverable connection between the ideas we have. In some of our ideas, there are certain relations and connections so implied in the nature of the ideas themselves, that we cannot conceive them separable by any power whatever. Thus the equality of the angles of a triangle to two right angles is known to be an immutable relation, not depend* 53 ent on any arbitrary power which of choice made it so, or could make it otherwise. But the case is different with respect to many of our ideas. We have ideas of the bulk, figure, and motion of several objects around us, and we have also, by sensation, the ideas of colours, sounds, tastes, smells^ pleasure and pain, excited by those objects ; but we cannot discover any affinity between these mechanical affections of bodies and the ideas which they produce in us ; there being no conceivable connection between any impulse of a body and the perception in our minds corres- ponding to it. And the action of thought on- matter is to us equally inexplicable. We are so far therefore from being able to comprehend the whole nature of the uni- verse, that we cannot attain a perfect knowledge of the bodies that are about us and make a part of us : concern- ing their secondary qualities and operations we have no universal certainty. For though several effects produced by them are daily presented to our notice, and by analogy we conjecture what effects similar bodies are, upon other trials, likely to produce, yet the causes, manner, and cer- tainty of their production cannot be ascertained. We observe many things proceed regularly, as if by certain laws ; we observe causes act, and effects constantly flow from them; but the nature of these connections not being discoverable by human faculties, we have only an experimental, and therefore very limited knowledge even of bodies with which we are most acquainted. Thirdly, where we have adequate ideas, and where there is a certain and discoverable connection between them, yet we are often ignorant, for want of tracing those ideas which we have, or may have, and for want of search- ing out those intermediate ideas which may shew us what agreement or disagreement they have w T ith one another. Thus many are ignorant of mathematical truths, not from e 3 54 any imperfection of their faculties, but from disinclination, and other causes. 42. Since our knowledge is gained by the interven- tion of ideas, and is therefore real only so far as there is a conformity between our ideas and the reality of things, it may be asked, what shall be the criterion ? How shall the mind know, that its ideas agree with things themselves ? The answer is, first, that all knowledge must ultimately rest on some self-evident principles ; one of which is, that when ideas of external objects are received by the senses, and the testimony of one sense is confirmed by the other senses with innumerable repetitions, those ideas must be the product of objects which exist, operating on our minds, and producing therein those perceptions which the will of our Maker has ordained and adapted them to produce. It follows that our simple ideas, gained by the senses, are not fictions of the fancy, but are the natural productions of things without us, and have therefore all the conformity which our state requires ; for they represent things to us under those appearances which they are fitted to produce, whereby we are enabled to distinguish the particular sorts of substances; to discern their qualities, and so apply them to our use. Secondly, all our complex ideas, except those of sub- stances, being made by the mind itself and not intended to be the copies of any thing, nor referred to the existence of any thing as their original, cannot but have all the con-> formity that is necessary to real knowledge. They are combinations of ideas which the mind puts together by its free choice, without requiring that they have any connec- tion in nature. Hence such ideas are not referred to things ; but things are referred to them, and their con- formity is thence admitted or denied. Thus if a man have formed in his mind a certain idea of justice, he includes no 55 acts under that name, except those that agree with the idea which he has previously affixed to it. Thirdly, our complex ideas of substances, consisting of simple ideas that are supposed to be taken from objects actually existing, may, it is true, vary from them, by hav- ing more or different ideas united in them than are united in the things themselves : and so, our knowledge may, and often does fail of being exactly conformable to things them* selves. The reality of our knowledge of substances re- quires that our complex ideas of them be such and such only as are made up of simple ideas which have been dis- covered to co-exist in nature. And if our ideas be thus true, though not perfect copies, they are the subjects of knowledge; which, in comparison with the extent of things, is very limited, but so far as it does reach, it is real knowledge. 43. Every man has an intuitive knowledge of his own existence, and he is convinced of the existence of external objects by a species of evidence equally certain. These things being admitted, a knowledge of the ex- istence of God may be acquired by demonstration. If any thing exists now, something must have always existed; otherwise that thing which now exists must either have been created by nothing, or it must have created itself, acting before it existed; both which suppo- sitions are absurd. We must therefore admit, either jthat there is some independent being which now exists, and always has existed, or that the things which we know to exist at present were produced by something which had its existence from something else, and so on in an infinite series of successive beings. But this last supposition is as absurd as the two former. For of this infinite series, either some one part has not been successive to any other, or else all the several parts of it have been successive. If some 58 pne part of it was not successive, then that was the^r^ part ; which is contrary to the supposition of the infinity of the series. If all the several parts of it have been suc- cessive, then have they all once been future ; and if so, a time may be conceived when none of them had existence, from which it would follow that all the parts, and conse- quently the whole of this infinite series must have arisen from nothing; which is absurd. From the impossibility therefore of such an infinite series of successive beings, we conclude that there must have existed from eternity some independent Being ; independent, because that which never had a beginning of existence cannot possibly have any cause of that existence, or in any manner depend upon any other being, but must be independent and self -existent. This Being must also be omnipotent. That such a Being has power in some degree, is proved by the same means that we prove his existence ; and since he depends upon no cause for his existence or his power, he cannot depend upon any for the exertion of that power, and therefore no limits can be applied to it. Limitation is an effect of some superior cause, which in the present case there cannot be : consequently to suppose limits where there can be no limiter, is to suppose an effect without a cause. For a Being to be limited or deficient in any respect is to be dependent in that respect on some other Being, which gave it just so much and no more : therefore that Being which in no respect depends upon any other is in no respect limited or deficient. In a Being naturally capable of perfection or infinity, all imperfection, or finite* ness, as it cannot flow from the nature of that Being, seems to require some ground or reason ; which reason, as it is foreign from the Being itself, must be the effect of some other external cause, and consequently cannot have place in the first cause. That the self-existent Being is 57 Capable of perfection or infinity must be granted ; since he is evidently the subject of one infinite attribute, viz. eternity. His other attributes must therefore also be infi- nite ; for to suppose them finite, when they are capable of infinity, would involve the forementioned absurdity of positive limitation without a cause. As therefore it is evident that a Being which is the fountain of all power, must itself have power in some degree ; we conclude far- ther, from the argument above stated, that this power must be unlimited or infinite. 01 The omniscience of the Deity may be proved in the same manner. We know that we possess thought and in* telligence, and we also know that we have not had them from eternity. They must therefore have had a beginning and consequently some cause, for the same reason that a Being beginning to exist must have a cause. This cause, as it is necessarily superior to its effect, must have superior thought and intelligence ; and if it be the first cause, it must have them in an unlimited degree, since limitation without a limiter, would, as was shewn before, be an effect without a cause. It is indeed manifest that, as all things depend upon the Supreme Being, and have received their existence and all their powers and faculties from him, he must know not only all things that are, but all the possibilities of things, that is, all effects that can be. For having given to all things all their powers and faculties, he must know per- fectly what those powers and faculties, derived wholly from himself, can produce. And seeing at one view all the possible changes, circumstances, and dependencies of things, all their possible relations one to another, and their fitnesses to certain ends, he must know what is best in ra King's Origin of Evil : remarks^ ed. 1731, p. 6% 5ft every possible method of disposing things, and understand perfectly how to order means, so as to effect what he knows to be, on the whole, the best and fittest end. This is what is meant by infinite wisdom or omniscience ; and it is the attribute of the eternal Being, the creator and ruler of all things, 11 Thus, from the consideration of the existence of our- selves and of other things, Reason leads us to the know- ledge of this certain truth, that there is a God ; an eternal, omnipotent, and omniscient Being. That such a Being must be incomprehensible by us, is self-evident; for if we do not understand the operations of our own finite minds, we must be much less able to comprehend the operations of that infinite mind on which, as their Author and Preserver, all other existences, material and spiritual, depend. 44. The truths that fall within human knowledge may be reduced to two classes. They arc either necessary and immutable truths, whose contrary is impossible; or they are contingent and mutable, being the effect of some will and power, which caused them to have a beginning, and may cause them to have an end. The axioms in Euclid, and all the conclusions drawn from them, are ne- cessary truths. They are immutably true, and depend not upon the will and power of any being. That the Sun is the centre about which the Earth revolves, is a contingent truth; for it depends upon the power and will of the Being, who has so ordained it. It is impossible to establish any either contingent or necessary truth without assuming some self-evident principles as the foundation of our reasoning. If doubt ■ n Encyc. Brit. Met. Part III, ch. vi. Clarke on the Being and At- tributes of God, Prop. 11, 59 arise with regard to any principle, whether it is self- evident or not; — still more, if one or two sceptical persons deny that a principle is self-evident which the rest of mankind have always thought to be so, it be- hoves them to take care that the principles which they assume as the foundation of their own reasoning be at least equally evident, As one of many principles which are generally allowed to be self-evident, the following is selected, both as an instance, and also because the remarks upon it may serve as an illustration of the argument stated in the preceding article. This principle is, That design and intelligence in the cause, may be inferred, with certainty, from marks of them in the effect. Intelligence is not an object of the senses ; it can only be discerned by the effects which it produces. A man's wisdom is known only by the marks of it in his conduct ; his courage, and all his virtues and talents are estimated in the same manner. From the con- duct of one person, we are sure of his folly and ignorance ; from that of another, we are sure that he possesses great attainments and understanding. It is no less a part of the human constitution to judge of men's characters, and of their intellectual powers, from the marks of them in their actions and discourse, than it is to judge of external objects by our senses. Such judgments are absolutely necessary in the conduct of life ; and every judgment so made is only a particular application of the general prin- ciple, that intelligence in the cause may be inferred from marks of it in the effect. As this inference is unavoidable, and is made with perfect security by all men, it has there- fore the strongest marks of being a self-evident principle. And, agreeably to it, the evidence of wisdom and power in the constitution of the world as an argument for the being and providence of the Deity, is that which has in all ages 6o made a stronger impression than any other, and been allowed by most men to be conclusive. The notices which God has given us of himself, — in the order, beauty, and harmony of the several parts of the world ; in the struc- ture of our own bodies, and in the powers of our minds, — are so forcible and obvious, that an acknow- ledgment of Him appears to be unavoidable. Meta- physical demonstrations of the Being and Attributes of God must fail in impressing conviction on the minds of those who are unable to comprehend them; but, for the same reason, men are bound not to suffer themselves to be unsettled by the sophistries of sceptical men, which they cannot perhaps answer, because they cannot understand : they are bound to adhere to those plain evidences and reasons of which they are able to form a judgment ; and these are sufficient to guide the opinions and practice of considerate men. 45. In demonstrative reasoning, the inference is necessary, and we perceive it to be impossible that it should not follow from the premises. Hence this kind of reasoning has no degrees; nor can one de- monstration be stronger than another, though, in relation to our faculties, one may be more easily comprehended than another. On the other hand, 'probable evidence has all degrees, from the highest moral certainty to the very lowest presumption. In common language, this is often considered as an inferior degree of evidence, and is op- posed to certainty ; but, properly, it is a species of evi- dence opposed, not to certainty, but to another species of evidence called demonstration. Demonstrative reasoning can be applied only to neces- sary truths ; these are sometimes capable also of probable ° Reid, Es. VI. ch. vi. Clarke ; conclusion of the Demonstration. 61 evidence ; and contingent truths are capable of probable evidence alone. Probable reasoning, for the most part, depends not upon any one argument, but upon many, which unite their force, and lead to the same conclusion. Any one of them by itself might be insufficient to convince ; but the whole taken together may have a force that is irresistible, so that to desire more evidence would be absurd. Some- times the judgment may be in suspense between two con- tradictory opinions, when there is no evidence for either, or equal evidence for both. The least preponderance on one side inclines the judgment in proportion. Belief is mixed with doubt, more or less, until we come to the highest degree of evidence, when all doubt vanishes, and the belief is immoveable. This degree of evidence, the high- est the human faculties can attain, amounts to certainty. 46. Since in many speculations, and in all the con- cerns of life, men cannot arrive at demonstrative know- ledge, it is necessary for them to be guided by probability; and the ground of probability is experience. If the ques* tion relate to a matter of fact, the first thing to be con- sidered is the previous probability of the fact, which will vary according to our experience of the like having, more or less frequently, taken place under the like circum- stances. For in order to establish the same probability, it is manifest that stronger evidence is necessary for one kind of fact, than for another. When ihejprevious probability has been determined, we proceed to estimate the testi- mony which is given respecting the fact in question ; and the probability, thence arising, will vary according to our experience of the like testimony having, more or less fre- quently, been found accurate in other cases. First, therefore, if the previous probability be very great, and the testimony also unimpeachable, the resulting F 62 probability is the highest possible. Thus if a number of credible persons testify that there was frost in England last winter, our belief so grounded arises to certainty. Secondly, if the fact be indifferent, that is, if in the nature of the thing there be nothing either for or against it, yet when it is vouched by the concurrent testimony of unsuspected witnesses, our assent is unavoidable. Thus, that there is such a city as Rome ; that there once lived in it a man called Julius Caesar ; that he was a General, and conquered Pompey ; these or the like facts being related by many Historians, and never contradicted, our belief of them, as in the first case, amounts to certainty. Thirdly, if the fact agree with our general experience, and it be attest- ed by many undoubted witnesses, the probability is ex- tremely great. Thus, if experience has taught us that the authors of civil commotions are generally profligate and wicked men, and if all Historians, who write of Catiline, say that he and his associates were of that character, our assent arises to a high degree of confidence. In these cases, probability carries so much evidence with it, that there is little or no room for doubt. The difficulty is, when testimonies contradict common experi- ence, and the reports of history and witnesses clash with the ordinary course of nature, or with one another ; these are the cases in which diligence and exactness are required to form a right judgment, and to proportion the assent to the probability of the thing, which rises or falls according as common observation in like cases, and particular testi- monies in that particular instance, favour or contradict it. 47. In estimating the previous probability of a fact which has reference to the conduct of men, we are guided by our experience of the general principles of human action, or by our knowledge of the individuals. If men be of sound mind, we depend upon a certain degree of regu- 63 larity in their conduct; and could imagine a thousand different cases,, wherein we should feel the utmost confi- dence that they will act in a particular way, and not in the contrary. If men had no confidence in one another that they will act such a part in such circumstances, it would be impossible for them to live in society : for that which makes men capable of living in society, and uniting in a political body under government, is the assurance that their actions will always be regulated in a great measure by the common principles of human nature. It may always be expected that they will regard their own inter- est and reputation, and that of their families and friends ; that they will repel injuries, and have some sense of good offices ; and that they will have some regard to truth and justice, so far at least as not to swerve from them without temptation. It is upon such principles as these, that all political reasoning is grounded. Such reasoning is never demonstrative; but it may have a very high degree of probability, especially when applied to great bodies of intel- ligent men? 48. Probability, so far as it rests on uncontradicted human testimony, varies according to the number of the witnesses, their known integrity, their apparent motives, their power of judging, and the consistency of the parts of their narration. As a reason for distinguishing between the general in- tegrity of witnesses and their apparent motives in any par- ticular case, it may be observed that the belief we give to testimony in many cases is not solely grounded upon the general veracity of the testifier. In a particular testimony, p See Reid's Essays on the first principles of truths, and on probable reasoning. 64 we consider the motives a man might have to falsify. If there be no appearance of any such motive, much more if there be motives on the other side, his testimony has weight independent of his moral character. If the testimony be circumstantial, we consider how far the circumstances agree with each other, and with things that are known. It is so difficult to fabricate a story which cannot be detected by a careful comparison of the circumstances, that it acquires probability, by being able to bear such a trial. And when there is an agreement of many witnesses, in a great variety of circumstances, with- out the possibility of previous concert, the evidence is equal to that of demonstration. 49' In traditional testimony, each transmission weakens the force of the proof. It is evident that no pro- bability grounded on testimony can rise higher than its first original. What has no other evidence than the testi- mony of one witness, must stand or fall by his testimony alone ; and though cited afterwards by a multitude of others, it is so far from receiving strength that it is only the weaker. Passion, interest, inadvertency, and a num- ber of other supposeable reasons may make one man mis- quote the words of another. Hence, what in one age was affirmed upon slight grounds, instead of becoming more valid in future ages by being often repeated, becomes Jess so, the farther it is removed from the original source. And this shews the great value of numerous, independent, and early documents in which important events are recorded. 50. If the question relate to a matter of speculative opinion, which is not capable of human testimony, our belief is directed by analogy. Thus, knowing that the whole earth abounds with animated beings, we think it probable that other bodies in the universe are similarly 65 inhabited. Also, if all nature, from a plant to a man, is filled with diverse kinds of creatures rising one above another by so easy an ascent that the transitions from one to another are almost insensible, if the scale of beings rises by such a regular progress as high as man, we may, by analogy, suppose that it still proceeds gradually through beings of a superior nature to him ; since there is an infi- nitely greater space for different degrees of perfection between the Supreme Being and man, than between man and the lowest insect. In these and similar cases it is not likely that men will ever arrive at certain knowledge, and therefore our inferences from analogy are limited to con- jecture ; but in subjects also which are proper for experi- ment, and in which certain knowledge may at length be attained, analogy is the best guide ; and cautious reasoning from it has led to the discovery of many truths which would otherwise have lain concealed.* 1 51. Error is sometimes unavoidable, because it is often necessary to form opinions on uncertain grounds. In many cases the probabilities on opposite sides are so nearly balanced, that the preponderance either way is not easily determined, and the danger of deciding wrong must be greatly increased if the judgment be biassed by any previ- ous inclination. Error does not therefore necessarily im- ply a defect of the understanding, since the means of form- ing a right decision may be beyond the reach even of those who have both the will and leisure to seek, and the ability to apply them* Errors are unavoidable where proof no where exists, and therefore cannot be procured ; they are also unavoidable, where men, bound to the necessity of gaining their subsistence by manual labour, have not the opportunity of observation, nor leisure to search for the «J Addison, Spec. N°. 519, f3 66 proofs which are necessary to establish right opinions. But, when every allowance has been made for unavoidable errors, many will remain to be otherwise accounted for, and which must be imputed to some disorder of the un- derstanding. 52. To every bias of the mind by which it may be drawn into error, Lord Bacon gives the name of an idol. The mind, in its sound and best state, pays homage to truth only. The causes of error are therefore considered by him as so many false deities, who receive the homage which is due only to truth. Without attempting to give an enumeration of errors, which would be impossible from their almost infinite diversity, he refers them all to four classes, to which he gives the names of idola tribus, idola specus, idola fori, idola theatri. The first are such as beset the whole human species ; so that every man is in danger from them. They arise from principles of the human constitution which are useful and necessary in our present state ; but by their excess or defect, or wrong direction, may lead us into error. As instances of this we may take the following: 1. Men are prone to fix their opinions too much by authority. In the early part of life we have no other guide; and without a disposition to receive what we are taught, we should be incapable of instruction. Also, when the faculties are matured, there are many things in which we must be incompetent to judge. In such cases, it is reasonable to rely upon the judgment of others whom we believe to be competent and disinterested. Authority ought to have more or less weight in any case, according to the evidence on which our own judg- ment rests, and the opinion we have previously formed, on good grounds, of the judgment and integrity of those who differ from us, or agree with us. Those who have a 67 strong sense of their own fallibility in judging, are in danger of yielding too much to authority; others more arrogant are in danger of yielding too little. As therefore our regard to authority may be either too great or too small, the bias of human nature seems to incline to the first of these extremes ; and it is certainly good for men that it has that inclination rather than the other. Much respect is due to authority in matters of opinion : but there is a tendency to pay it in excess. Of a great part of man- kind it can hardly be said that they form any judgment of their own, except in things which concern their immediate temporal interest; in other important matters, we may conjecture, with a near approach to certainty, what their opinions are, when we know where they were born, how they have been educated, and in what society they have lived. 2. Men are too much disposed to estimate things less known and less familiar, by those that are better known and more familiar. In this instance as in the former, the principle is correct to a certain de- gree, but there is a tendency to excess in the application of it. As it forms the foundation of all analogical reasoning, to which we owe a great part of our knowledge, it would be absurd to lay it aside altogether ; the difficulty is in determining how far we may venture upon it. The bias of our nature seems to lead us to trust too much to it, and to decide from too slight analogies. For example, the objects of sense having engrossed our thoughts in the first part of life and been most familiar through the whole of it, men in all ages have been prone to attribute the human Jlgure to superior intelligences, and even to the Supreme Being. Again, for the same reason, there is a disposition in men to materialize every thing ; that is, to apply the notions we have of material objects to things of a different 68 nature. Hence thought is considered as analogous to motion in a body ; and as bodies are put in motion by impulses, we are apt to conclude that the mind is made to think in the same manner. The mistakes in common life, which arise from the erroneous application of this principle, are innumerable. Men judge too hastily of others by themselves, or by the small circle of their acquaintance. The selfish man ascribes all professions of benevolence and public spirit to hypocrisy or self-deceit. The generous and honest be- lieve plausible pretences too readily, and are apt to think men better than they really are. The profligate can hardly be persuaded that there is any such thing as real virtue. The rustic forms his notions of the characters of men from those of his own village, and is easily deceived on his first arrival in a great city. 3. In avoiding one extreme, men are apt to rush into the opposite. Thus, in rude ages, they ascribe every uncommon appearance to the immediate interposition of invisible beings; but when philosophy has discovered natural causes of many events which, in the days of ignorance, were ascribed to the immediate operation of gods or daemons, they are apt to think that all the pheno- mena of nature may be accounted for in the same way, and that there is no need of an invisible Maker and Governor of the world. In this manner, by an immediate transition they pass from the extreme of superstition to that of atheism. And in general, when men abandon opinions which they have held on weak grounds, they are seldom seen to take a moderate course, but hasten to maintain, with equal earnestness, and on grounds perhaps equally insufficient, opinions directly opposite to those which they held before. 53. By the idola speeds are meant causes of error not 69 arising from the constitution of human nature, but from something peculiar to the individual. As in a cave, ob- jects vary in their appearance according to the form of the cave and the manner in which it receives the light, and, from these circumstances, often assume a delusive appear- ance ; so, in the mind, errors arise from the particular way in which a man has been trained, or from his particular profession, or from something singular in the turn of his mind. One whose thoughts have been confined to a cer- tain track, is apt to judge wrong when he ventures out of that track. He is apt to refer every thing to the maxims of his own profession, and to judge, by them, of things that have no relation to it. It is a common remark that those who have been much accustomed to demonstrative reasoning, often require it in subjects to which it is not applicable. And, from a like reason, men who are warmly devoted to a particular pursuit, are apt to hold all other pursuits in undue contempt. Some men have a great admiration of antiquity, and contempt of whatever is modern ; others go into the con- trary extreme. Some are afraid to venture a step out of the beaten track, and think it safest to go with the multi- tude; others are fond of singularities and paradox. Some are changeable in their opinions ; others obstinate. These things shew how important it is for every man to examine the tendencies of his own mind, and not cherish pecu- liarities which must vitiate his judgment. 54. The idolafori are fallacies which arise from the imperfections and the abuse of language. On this sub- ■ ject, little need be added to the remarks which have been already made. As language was not made by philosophers, but was gradually formed by popular use, it has some imperfec- tions which might be avoided if it were possible to bring 70 it to a new beginning ; but to others no remedy could be .applied, while our knowledge itself is imperfect. In the mean time these imperfections are the manifest cause of many errors. For language is an instrument of thought . as well as of the communication of our thoughts, and we find it impossible to pursue a train of thought without the use of it : the bad effects therefore of ambiguous and inde- finite language are not confined to our communications with others, but extend to our private speculations. The signs are so associated with the things signified, that the last can hardly present themselves to the mind without drawing the other along with them. Hence, that which was intended to assist and minister to the understanding frequently assumes the mastery : we cannot shake it off, and therefore must direct our course, in some degree, as it permits. 55. The last class of idols in Lord Bacon's division are the idola theatri, by which he meant hypothetical sys- tems, in which we have been trained, or which we have adopted. Before his time, the slow method of induction from observation and experiment was little understood, and men of genius had long been occupied, to little pur- pose, in framing hypotheses to account for the phsenomena of nature. These were considered by Bacon as worthy of no more regard than fictitious representations produced in a theatre. The world had been so long deceived by hypo- theses in all parts of philosophy, that he renounced them as the fictions of fanciful men, who thought themselves able to unfold the mysteries of nature by the mere force of their genius. When men first began to inquire into the causes of things, it was natural for them to indulge conjecture ; and accordingly, the most ancient systems of philosophy were nothing but the conjectures of men famous for their wisdom, whose name gave authority to 71 their opinions. Some conjectured that this Earth is a vast plain, surrounded by a boundless ocean ; — that from this ocean, the Sun, Moon, and stars emerge at their rising, and plunge into it again at their setting. Others in more recent times have conjectured that the heavenly bodies are carried round by a vortex of subtle matter, as straws are carried round in a vessel of water. Thus, the experi- ence of all ages has shewn how prone men are to invent hypotheses founded on slight probabilities, and how eager they are, by a kind of anticipation, to discover the secrets of nature. This tendency, it is true, has been at length checked by perpetual failures. The rule laid down by Newton is acknowledged and followed, that no causes of natural things ought to be assigned but such as can be proved to have a real existence ; and that the proper method of philosophy is, to collect the laws of nature by just in- duction from ascertained facts, and to apply the laws so discovered to the explanation of phenomena. It may be expected that men will persevere in this course, in which happy progress has been already made ; — that in all in- quiries into the constitution of nature, they will be content to act a subordinate part; to combine, not to fabricate; to collect evidence, and not to supply the want of it by con- jecture. Lord Bacon, having explained the nature of these idols, and shewn what delusions are caused by the respect which is paid to them, exhorts men, resolutely to abandon them; to free their minds from prejudice; and to seek truth with the docility of children. 1 — * ' ' i ... 1. 1 n - 1 1 .1 i ... r Bacon de augmentis scientiarum, lib. 5, cap. iv. Novum Or- ganum, Aph. xxxix. Reid on Hypotheses, Es. II. ch. iii. and on Pre- judices, Es. VI. ch. viii. See also Stewart. Elem. Phil. vol. II. ch. iv. §. 1. on the difference between gratuitous and legitimate hypotheses. 72 £>6. That part of Logic which treats of the exer- cise of the mind according to practical rules, and by pro- per methods of reasoning, is called Dialectics. In explaining this Art, the operations of the mind are commonly classed under three divisions, simple apprehen- sion, judgment, and reasoning. The simple apprehension of an object means the same as having a notion, an idea, or a conception of it. It is ex- pressed by a word, or by a part of a proposition, not mak- ing a complete sentence ; as a king, the king of a faithful people. Such words, taken alone, denote simple apprehen- sions : they neither affirm nor deny ; they imply no opinion of the thing signified by them, and therefore can- not be said to be either true or false. By the operation of judgment the mind compares any two objects of thought, and determines their agreement or disagreement. This operation is expressed by a propo- sition, in which the agreement of the things compared is affirmed or denied : as when we say, God is omnipotent ; man is not perfect The third operation is reasoning ; in which, from two or more judgments, which are called premises, we deduce a new and distinct judgment, which is called the conclusion. Reasoning may consist of many steps ; the first conclusion being a premise to a second, that to a third, and so on. Hence, separate judgments may be compared to separate stones prepared for the purposes of the builder; upon each of which, while lying on the ground, a person may raise himself to a small elevation. The same judgments, when combined into a train of reasoning, resemble the formerly unconnected stones when converted into the steps of a staircase, leading to a summit which would be otherwise inaccessible. 57. Since a judgment includes two ideas, the propo- sition which expresses a judgment must have terms cor- 73 responding to them. The term expressing the idea of which we affirm or deny, is called the subject of the pro- position. The term expressing the idea affirmed or denied, is called the predicate. Thus in the proposition, God is omnipotent ; God is the subject, it being of Him that we affirm omnipotence ; and omnipotent is the predicate, be- cause we affirm that the idea, expressed by that word, belongs to God. That word in a proposition which connects two ideas together, is called the copula; and if a negative particle be annexed, we thereby understand that the ideas are dis- joined. The substantive verb is made use of for the copula ; as in the proposition, God is omnipotent ; where is repre- sents the copula, and signifies the agreement of the ideas of God and omnipotence. In the proposition, man is not perfect, the negative particle is inserted after the copula, to signify the disagreement between the ideas expressed by the subject and predicate. In popular language, proposi- tions do not always appear in the logical form above stated, but they may be reduced to it by the substitution of equivalent terms. The copula and predicate are often in- cluded in the same word ; as he comes, which is the same as he is coming : and in Latin, one word, as venit, some- times includes the whole proposition. For whenever two ideas are joined or disjoined, though the expression be only a single word, it may be resolved into an equivalent expression containing a subject, predicate, and copula, according to the logical form of a proposition. 8 58. A proposition is called affirmative, when the ideas expressed by the subject and predicate are affirmed to agree ; and negative, when they are affirmed to disagree. s The substance of this and of some of the following articles is taken from Duncan's Elements of Logic. G /4 Thus of the propositions, God is omnipotent, and, man is not perfect, the first is affirmative y the second negative. A proposition is universal, when the subject is a general term without any limitation, and the predicate agrees or disagrees with each of the things comprehended under the subject. Thus, men are mortal, is an universal proposition; for mortality is affirmed of every individual of the species man. A proposition is particular, when the subject is a general term, but with a mark of limitation added, to denote that the predicate agrees only with some of the things comprehended under the subject, Thus, some men are virtuous, is a particular proposition ; for the idea ex- pressed by the predicate agrees with only a part of the general idea of the subject. A proposition is singular, when the subject signifies one thing only; as when we say Aristides was just. Some logicians have classed these among universal^ and others among particular propositions. They may be reckoned universal, when the predicate agrees with the ?vhole of the subject in its fullest extent ; as when we say, Ccesar was a Homan : but if some qualifying word be in- serted, to denote that we are not speaking of the whole of the subject, as when we say, Ccesar was not wholly a tyrant, the proposition may be reckoned particular. Since therefore every proposition must be either affirmative or negative; universal or particular; hence has arisen the fourfold division of them into universal affirmative, and universal negative; particular affirmative, and particular negative ; which includes all their varieties. 59. Some qualities in bodies are essential, that is, in- separable from them ; others are accidental. Thus weight is an essential quality of a stone, as it is of all matter ; but heat is accidental. From this distinction arises the divi 75 sion of propositions into absolute and conditional. A pro- position is absolute, when the predicate is affirmed to agree always with the subject, as being essential to it; and con- ditional, when the agreement of the predicate with the subject is not essential, but depends on some condition. Thus, a stone has weight, is an absolute proposition ; if a stone be exposed to the rays of the Sun, it will contract heat, is conditional. 60. A simple proposition is that which has only one subject and one predicate. A compound proposition has more than one subject, or more than one predicate, or more than one of both. Thus in the proposition, God is infinitely wise and infinitely powerful, there are two predi- cates, both affirmed of the same subject ; and the proposi- tion may be resolved into two others, affirming these predicates severally. In like manner in the proposition, neither kings nor people are exempt from death, the pre- dicate is denied of both subjects, and may be denied of them separately, in distinct propositions. If we say, riches and honours are apt to elate the mind, and increase the number of our desires, as there are two subjects and two predicates, the proposition may be resolved into four: riches are apt to elate the mind : riches are apt to increase the number of our desires. And so of honours, 61. Some compound propositions are called copula- tive, others disjunctive. A proposition is copulative,, when the subjects and predicates are so linked together that they may be all severally affirmed or denied one of another. Of this nature are the examples given above. Riches and honours are apt to elate the mind, and increase the number of our desires. Neither kings nor people are exempt from death. In the first of these, the two predicates may be affirmed severally of each subject ; in the other, the same 76 predicate being denied of two subjects may be also denied of them in separate propositions. A proposition is disjunctive, when, comparing several predicates with the same subject, we affirm that one of them necessarily belongs to it, but leave the particular predicate undetermined. Thus if we say, the world is either self -existent, or is the work of some wise and power- ful cause, the proposition is disjunctive. In all propositions of this sort, if we determine the particular predicate, the rest are of course removed ; or if we remove all the predi- cates except one, that one is necessarily established. As in the example just given, if we allow that the world is the work of some wise and powerful cause, we of course deny •it to be self-existent ; or if we deny it to be self- existent, we must necessarily allow that it is the work of some wise and powerful cause. These propositions take their name from the disjunctive particles which it is necessary to use in stating them. 62. Reasoning has been defined above to be that operation of the mind by which, from two or more judg- ments, a new and distinct judgment is deduced. In comparing ideas together, it often happens that their agreement or disagreement cannot be discerned at the first view. When, for instance, we wish to determine the equality or inequality of two figures of a different form, it is evident that by merely considering the figures themselves we cannot arrive at an exact determination, because it is impossible to apply them to one another so that their several parts shall coincide. But as all right- lined figures are reducible to squares, we may, by means of them, measure the areas of such figures, and compare them exactly in respect to magnitude. Thus if we find that one figure is exactly equal to some square, and that another is 77 less than the same square by a square-inch, we conclude that the area of the first figure is a square-inch greater than that of the second. Every act of reasoning necessarily includes three dis- tinct judgments ; two, wherein the ideas, whose relation we want to discover, are severally compared with the middle idea, and a third, wherein they are themselves joined or disjoined according to the result of that compa- rison. And as our judgments, when expressed in words, are called propositions, so the expressions of our reason- ings are called syllogisms, 63. If the question be proposed whether man is ac~ countable for Ms actions, since the relation between the ideas of man and accountableness comes not within the immediate view of the mind, it is necessary to find some third idea that will enable us to discover the relation. First, therefore, on considering what hind of beings are accountable for their actions, we determine that all are accountable who possess reason to distinguish right from wrong, and liberty to pursue the one and avoid the other. Secondly, we know from experience that reason and liberty belong to man. Having thus formed two judgments, viz. that man is possessed of reason and liberty, and that reason and liberty imply accountableness, a third necessarily follows, viz. that man is accountable for his actions. And these propositions, placed in due order, form the following syllo- gism : Every creature possessed of reason and liberty is accountable for his actions : Ma?i is a creature possessed of reason and liberty : Therefore man is accountable for his actions. 64. The two first propositions in a syllogism are called the premises, and the third proposition is called the conclusion. Also, the two terms expressing the two ideas g 3 78 whose relation we are tracing (as, in the above syllogism, man and accountableness) are called the extremes : and that which expresses the intermediate idea (viz, the possession of reason and liberty) is called the middle term. That ex- treme which is the predicate of the conclusion, is called the major term : the other extreme, which is the subject of the conclusion, is called the minor term. And from this distinction of the extremes, arises a distinction be- tween the premises in which the extremes are severally compared with the middle term. That proposition which compares the major extreme, or predicate of the conclu- sion, with the middle term, is called the major proposition : the other, wherein the minor extreme, or subject of the conclusion, is compared with the middle term, is called the minor proposition. When a syllogism is proposed in due form, the major proposition is placed first, the minor next, and the conclusion last. 65. A syllogism is called conditional, when the major proposition is conditional : thus If God is infinitely wise and powerful, he does nothing but what is best : But God is infinitely wise and powerful : Therefore he does nothing but what is best. In every conditional proposition there are two parts, viz. the antecedent and consequent, the first being that in which the condition is stated, and the other making a consequent assertion. As in the instance above given ; if God is infi- nitely wise and powerful, is the antecedent ; and, he does nothing but what is best, is the consequent. In syllogisms of this kind, it is evident that if we admit the antecedent we must admit the consequent, and if we reject the con- sequent we must reject the antecedent. But the reverse process of reasoning is not legitimate ; that is, we cannot argue from the rejection of the antecedent to the rejection 79 of the consequent, or from the admission of the consequent to the admission of the antecedent. For although the antecedent always expresses some cause or condition which, if admitted, necessarily implies the consequent, yet it does not follow that there is no other cause or condi- tion ; and if there be, then after rejecting the antecedent, the consequent may still remain. Thus when we say : if a stone is exposed to the rays of the Sun, it will contract heat ; the proposition is true, and admitting the antecedent, we must also admit the consequent. But as there are other ways by which a stone may contract heat, it will not follow, from the removal of the above-mentioned condi- tion, that therefore the consequent cannot take place : we cannot argue, but the stone has not been exposed to the rays of the Sun ; therefore neither has it any degree of heat ; inasmuch as there are many other ways in which heat may have been communicated to it. And if we cannot argue from the removal of the antecedent to the removal of the consequent, no more can we from the admission of the consequent to the admission of the antecedent. For the consequent may arise from any one of a great variety of causes, and therefore the ad- mission of it does not determine the precise cause, but only that some one of them must take place. Thus in the foregoing proposition, admitting the consequent, viz. that the stone has contracted heat, we are not therefore bound to admit the antecedent, that it has been exposed to the rays of the Sun; because there are many other causes whence that heat may have proceeded. These two modes of arguing therefore are not correct, unless the antecedent expresses the only condition on which the consequent can take place; in which particular in- stance, they may be applied without error. 80 66. A syllogism is called disjunctive, when the major proposition is disjunctive,, as in the following example : The world is either self-existent, or the work of some finite, or of some infinite Being : But it is not self -existent, nor the work of a finite Being : Therefore it is the work of an infinite Being. In a disjunctive proposition, we affirm that one of several predicates necessarily belongs to the subject, to the exclusion of all the rest. Hence, as soon as the par- ticular predicate is determined, all the rest are of course to be rejected; or if we reject all the predicates except one, that one necessarily takes place. When therefore, in a disjunctive syllogism, the several predicates are enumer- ated in the major proposition, if in the minor any one of these predicates is established, the conclusion ought to reject all the rest ; or if in the minor all the predicates, except one, are rejected, the conclusion must necessarily establish that one. Thus in the syllogism given above, the major affirms that one of three predicates belongs to the earth, viz. self-existence, or that it is the work of a finite, or that it is the work of an infinite Being. Two of these predicates are rejected in the minor, viz. self-exist^ ence, and the work of a finite Being. Hence the conclusion necessarily ascribes to it the third predicate, and affirms that it is the work of an infinite Being. If the minor had established one of the predicates, by affirming the Earth to be the work of an infinite Being, then the conclusion must have rejected the other two, by affirming it to be neither self-existent, nor the work of a finite Being, 67. It often happens that one of the premises of a syllogism contains an evident and familiar truth ; in which 81 case it is sometimes omitted, and the syllogism, having only two propositions, is, in respect to its form, incom- plete. Thus if we say: all tyrants deserve death; there- fore Ne?*o deserved death: the minor (Nero was a tyrant) is omitted, as being a truth so well known that it need not be expressed. Syllogisms of this abridged form are called enthymemes, 68, The sorites is a compendious mode of reasoning, in which a number of propositions are so linked together that the predicate of one becomes continually the subject of the next following, until at last a conclusion is formed by bringing together the subject of the first proposition and the predicate of the last. Of this kind is the follow- ing argument : The son of Themistocles governs his mother; his mother governs Themistocles; Themistocles governs Greece ; Greece governs the world ; therefore the son of Themistocles governs the world. This sorites may be resolved into three syllogisms ; and in general, a sorites may be resolved into as many syllogisms as there are middle terms in it ; and if such re- solution be made, it will always be found that the conclu- sion of the last syllogism is the same as the conclusion of the sorites. This kind of argument therefore stands on the same foundation with the syllogisms of which it con- sists, and may be continued to any length, without weak- ening the ground on which the conclusion rests. A series of conditional syllogisms may be condensed in the same manner. If a number of conditional propositions be joined together so that the consequent of one becomes continually the antecedent of the next following ; — by establishing the antecedent of the first proposition we shall establish the consequent of the last, or by rejecting the last consequent, we shall reject also the first antecedent. The following is an example of this kind of argument : 82 If the dead rise not, then is Christ not raised; if Christ is not raised, our faith is vain ; if our faith is vain, our hope is confined to the present life ; if our hope is confined to the present life, we are of all men most miserable : therefore, if the dead rise not, we are of all men most miserable. It is evident that this sorites, as well as the former, may be resolved into a series of distinct syllogisms, and that the conclusion of the last syllogism in the series will be the same as the conclusion of the sorites. 69' A dilemma is a conditional syllogism, by which we prove the absurdity of some assertion. In order to this, we assume a conditional proposition, the antecedent of which involves the assertion which we wish to disprove, and the consequent is a disjunctive proposition enumera- ting all the possible suppositions upon which the assertion can take place. If then it appears that all these supposi- tions ought to be rejected, it is evident that the antecedent, or the assertion itself, must also be rejected. Euclid fur- nishes many examples of this kind of argument. When he is about to show that two figures are equal, or, which is the same thing, to prove the absurdity of asserting them to be unequal, it is very common with him to assume, that if the one is not equal to the other, it must be either greater or less ; and having destroyed both these suppositions, upon which alone the assertion of their inequality can stand, he concludes that the assertion itself is false. The following is a dilemma, in syllogistic form : If the world be not the work of an infinite Being, it must be either self existent, or the work of a finite Being. But it is not self existent, nor the work of a finite Being. Therefore it is the work of an infinite Being. Here, the major is a conditional proposition, whose con- sequent contains all the suppositions upon which the ante- cedent can take place ; and as all these suppositions are 83 rejected in the minor, it is evident that the antecedent must be rejected in the conclusion. By comparing this example of the dilemma with that given above of the disjunctive syllogism, it appears that they may easily be reduced to the same form. 70. Argument by induction is the derivation of a general proposition from a number of particular instances. It is evident that this kind of argument will amount to demonstration, if it be founded on an enumeration of all the instances which the general proposition comprehends : but it is also evident that in this case the value of the induction would cease, considered as a means of gaining knowledge beyond that which is intuitive or demonstrative. For to predicate of the whole what has been already pre- dicated of all the parts conveys no additional information. Thus, if we suppose the whole tribe of animals to be di- vided into men, birds, beasts, fishes and insects, and then argue in this manner: all men have the power of motion ; all birds, beasts, fishes and insects, have the power of motion ; therefore all animals have the power of motion : the argu- ment is just, but it adds nothing to our knowledge. In- duction therefore is generally and properly understood to be a process of reasoning by which, from observation of cer- tain known instances, we draw an inference with respect to others that are unknown. By means of this, we are enabled to supply in some degree, by probability, the defects of our certain knowledge, and to conjecture truths, which have not been certified, and perhaps cannot be certified by actual experiment. An induction in which every individual case is enu- merated, is a perfect demonstration. And in general, the more nearly we approach to the entire enumeration, the higher is the degree of probability attained by the induc- tion. 84 The common error is, too great haste in drawing a con- clusion, without having premised a sufficient number of individual cases. Thus, many are apt too hastily to form an opinion of a whole nation, from the characters of a few who have fallen within their imperfect observation. Thus also, the medicine of an empiric becomes popular, by in- duction drawn from a few cures ; which, even if the report of them were true, ought not to have much weight, espe- cially if it be considered how many cases, in which trial has been made of it, are not published ; the majority of which, it is reasonable to suppose, were failures. On the contrary, where experiment is the only test that can be ap- plied of the utility of any art, it ought to be established by a great number of instances of success, proper account also being taken of instances of failure. And when the pro- portion of failures to the successful cases has been ascer- tained with the utmost care, and found to be small, the beneficial effects of the art are far more undeniably estab- lished, than they could be by vague assertions of its universal and unerring efficacy. Argument by induction is the same as a syllogism in which the major proposition is suppressed. And in all arguments by induction, the suppressed proposition is sub- stantially the same, viz. that what belongs to the individuals we have examined, belongs to the whole class to which they are referred. The argument therefore, placed in the form of a complete syllogism would be this : What belongs to the individuals we have examined belongs to the whole class : But a certain quality belongs to the individuals we have examined : Therefore the same quality belongs to the whole class. Induction therefore, so far as it is an argument, may be stated syllogistically ; but so far as it is a process of 85 inquiry with a view to obtain the premises of an argument, it comes not within the province of syllogistic reasoning. The difficulty consists in determining whether the major proposition is duly established. Whether the induction has been drawn from a sufficient number of individual cases,, — whether the character of those cases has been cor- rectly ascertained, — and how far the individuals we have examined are likely to resemble the rest of the class, are points that require judgment ; but this judgment cannot be assisted by syllogistic rules, because it is employed in deciding whether or not it is allowable to lay down certain premises ; and syllogistic rules have no concern with the truth or falsity of the premises, but merely teach us to determine whether from given premises the conclusion is rightly inferred.* 71. Some arguments are called direct, others indirect. A direct argument is, when, setting out from self-evident truths and definitions, we proceed till we arrive at the proposition which we wish to prove. The argument is indirect, when we assume a proposition contrary to that which is to be proved, and proceed till we arrive at a con* elusion from which we are able to infer that the assumed proposition is false, and the contrary true. Of this kind is the argument \ab impossibili, or reductio ad absurdum. This mode of arguing depends on two principles; first, that we never can arrive at an absurdity by reasoning justly from true principles ; secondly, that when two propositions are directly contrary to one another, and one of them is proved to be false, the other must be true. One mode of argument is said to be a priori ; another a posteriori. The former is, when we argue from causes 1 Encyc. Metr. Art. Logic. Artis Logicae Rudimenta. Oxford ed. 1823, p. 175. H 86 to effects ; as from a man's disposition to his actions ; from a writer's known style and ability, that he is, or is not, the author of a certain book : from the existence of a God with certain attributes, some have argued that the world would be formed in this or that manner. The argument a posteriori is directly the reverse : by it, we argue from effects to causes; from a man's actions to his motives; from the existence of the world and, marks of power and wisdom in it, to the existence and attributes of God. This mode of argument necessarily precedes the other* For, in arguing from cause to effect, as from a man's dis- position to his actions, the question occurs, how is a man's disposition to be known ? It can only be known from some previous actions ; but when these have furnished sufficient ground for determining his disposition, we are then able to draw an inference from it as to his future actions, and the argument a priori becomes both legitimate and useful. 72. Sophisms are fallacious arguments, disguised under the appearance of truth. Some of them may be re- futed by the application of syllogistic rules ; others arise from the ambiguity of language, and cannot be detected except by definition, and careful regard to the meaning of words. One common error in argument is, to infer the falsity of a conclusion from the falsity of certain premises ; and, reversely, to infer the truth of certain premises from the truth of the conclusion. This is the same as to argue from the removal of the antecedent to the removal of the consequent, or from the admission of the consequent to the admission of the ante- cedent : both which modes of argument have been already shewn to be fallacious. If we attempt to establish any 87 conclusion by arguments which are proved to be falla- cious, nothing farther ought to be inferred than that this conclusion cannot be established by those particular argu- ments : the detection of the fallacy of one argument ought not to invalidate other better arguments which may be fully sufficient to warrant the conclusion. Yet it may be observed that this is generally the effect of such detection. The guilty often escape by having too much laid to their charge, or by the production of a witness against them who is discovered to be unworthy of credit; though perhaps if that part of the evidence had been omitted, the rest would have been sufficient for conviction. 73. That sophism which is called ignoratio elenchi, or -mistake of the question, is also of frequent occurrence. It consists in advancing arguments which, even if admitted to be just, are not applicable to the matter in dispute. This sophism is often practised in cases in which the ques- tion relates to the choice between two evils, or to the com- parison of two plans either of which is likely to produce some good effects. The sophist dwells on the magnitude of one of the evils, or the excellence of one of the plans, and takes little or no notice of the comparison, which forms the essential part of the question. Hence, when any plan is proposed, he brings into exercise this fallacy, which may be called the fallacy of objections ; that is, he shews that there are objections against the plan, and thence infers that it ought to be rejected ; when the proper question is, whether there are more and stronger objections against the adoption of the plan than against the rejection of it. This fallacy is commonly resorted to by the enemies of Revelation; a belief in which, they say, is attended with great difficulties. But even if this be ad- mitted to be true, the inference is fallacious ; for the pro- per question is, which is attended with greater difficulties, 88 the supposition of the truth of Revelation, or the supposi- tion of its falsehood ? — The same fallacy is adopted by two other classes of men, very opposite to one another ; one composed of those who are for overthrowing what- ever is established, as soon as they can prove an objec- tion against it, without considering whether more and weightier objections may not lie against their own schemes : the other composed of men who oppose all alterations indiscriminately ; not reflecting that their state- ment even of real objections ought not to be conclusive, since it is scarcely possible to propose any plan, however excellent, against which strong and even unanswerable ob- jections may not be urged ; so that unless the opposite objections be allowed their due weight, no improvement could ever be made. 74. The sophisms called petitio principii and reason- ing in a circle are, for the most part, easily detected. The first consists in taking for granted the proposition which we undertake to prove, disguised perhaps under some different form of words : as when, in order to prove that the soul always thinks, we assume that thinking is essen- tial to the soul ; which is the same in reality as the original proposition, and equally difficult to be proved. The other sophism is nearly similar, and consists in making two pro- positions serve mutually as proofs of each other. Men are most likely to be misled into these sophisms when they attempt to prove things which are scarcely capable of proof; such as their own existence, the existence of matter, and other like truths which are generally allowed to be self-evident. 75. The sophism called non causa pro causa consists in assigning a false cause ; that is, in referring any effect to a cause which either does not exist at all, or does not exist as a cause in the case in question. To this class 89 belong the false theories that have been formed respecting the constitution of mind and matter ; such, for instance, as the ancient method of explaining the operations of the mind by supposing the existence of substantial forms, and the modern theory of vibrations, and many others which have been assumed without sufficient ground for the prin- ciples on which they are founded. The same fallacy is often introduced also into moral reasonings, and misleads men to consider as a cause what is merely accidental and adventitious. Through this error, Christianity has some- times been decried as the cause of persecutions and other great evils ; whereas it ought to have been called the pre- text ; and the same or greater evils would probably have been wrought on some other pretext. For the real cause of such calamities is the wickedness of the authors of them, and wickedness will seldom be at a loss for some pretext, more or less plausible, to disguise its operations. In like manner the opponents of the Reformation assumed that it was the cause of the troubles which took place at that period, and thence inferred that it was an evil. But the reply was twofold : first, the fact was denied, that the Reformation was at all the cause of those troubles ; and secondly, that even if it were the cause, the evil was less than that which the Reformation had removed. In determining therefore the causes of events, it is a very necessary caution not to assume too hastily that one thing is the cause of another, when perhaps it is only an accidental concomitants ■ 76. The ambiguity of language furnishes numerous opportunities for sophistical reasoning. Many fallacies of w Butler's Analogy, Part IL ch. i. Encyc. Metr. Art. Logic, ch. y, H S 90 this class are founded on the supposition that words derived from the same root have a precisely correspondent meaning : which is by no means universally the case, as will appear from observing the meanings which custom has annexed to such words as project and projectors, pre- sume and presumption, design and designing, art and artful. The sophist proceeds on the supposition that he who forms a project must be a projector, and argues thus : projectors are unfit to be trusted : this man has formed a project ; therefore he is unfit to be trusted : whereas the bad sense of one of these words is not at all implied in the other. Again he argues : to be acquainted with the guilty is a presumption of guilt ; this man is so acquainted ; there- fore we may presume that he is guilty. This argument proceeds on the supposition of an exact correspondence between presume and presumption, which however does not exist ; for presumption is commonly used to express a slight supicion ; whereas to presume amounts to absolute belief. In this manner, the sophist will often be able to misinterpret the propositions w T hich his opponent admits or maintains, and employ theni, so misinterpreted, against him. Nearly allied to this fallacy is another, which arises from supposing that the meaning of every word ought to be determined by its etymological derivation. Thus the sophist, assuming that the right meaning of the noun, re- presentative, must correspond exactly with the original sense of the verb, represent, argues that a representative ought to be guided in all points by the opinion of his con- stituents, and to be merely their deputy ; whereas law and custom, which in this case ought to be considered as fixing the meaning of the term, require no such thing, but enjoin the representative to act according to his own judg- 91 ment, and on his own responsibility. Custom, which is generally the arbiter of language, is variable ; and there- fore there can be no authority competent to pronounce that the meaning of a word, now and for ever, must be that which it originally bore. 77- There are some other modes of argument, which often have effect in disputation, but are not conclusive for the determination of truth. One of these is to appeal to common opinion, or allege the decisions of men whose learning has gained a name, and invested them with a kind of authority. When opinions are recommended by such high sanction, it is thought presumptuous to question them ; and the disputant, who is able to support his tenets by such authorities, is inclined to charge with a breach of modesty the adversary who refuses to yield to them. This is called argumentum ad verecundiam. All that can be said against it is, that it is not conclusive : it must be allowed that there is a strong presumption in favour of any opinion which has received the consent of learned men for many ages ; but this presumption may be overcome by stronger reasons on the contrary side. Another mode of argument, by which men endeavour to gain assent to their opinions, is to require the adversary either to assent to them, or to assign others more satisfac- tory. This is called argumentum ad ignorantiam ; and is of little value ; for the ignorance of one person affords no presumption in favour of the accuracy of another person's knowledge. A third way is to press a man with consequences drawn from his own principles or concessions. This is called argumentum ad hominem ; and is sometimes an allowable expedient for silencing those who will not yield to fair argument. 92 That which is called argumentum ad judicium is differ- ent from all these ; being derived from the proper founda- tions of knowledge or probability. This alone brings true instruction with it, and advances us in our way to knowledge. It argues not that one man's opinion is right, because others, from respect, or from any other considera- tion, will not contradict him. Nor does it prove that one man is in the right way, because others know not a better, or have been shewn to be in the wrong. But it appeals to just proofs and arguments, and to evidence derived from the nature of things themselves; not to the modesty, ignorance, or errors of those to whom it is addressed. 78. Method is the arrangement of the thoughts, so that their mutual relation and dependence may be most easily seen. The chief objects of method are, the inves- tigation of truth, and the communication of it. There are accordingly two species of method, the analytic and the synthetic, respectively adapted to these two objects : the analytic being usually the method of invention, and the synthetic the method of instruction. - In Geometry, every proposition consists of two parts ; one, in which certain suppositions are made ; and another, in which a certain consequence is affirmed to follow from those suppositions. If the particulars stated in the hypo- thetical part of the enunciation be assumed as the princi- ples of our reasoning, and from these principles a series of consequences be deduced, till we at last arrive at the con- clusion which the proposition affirmed, the demonstration is called synthetic. If the steps of this reasoning be ar- ranged in the reverse order, we assume hypothetically the truth of the proposition which we wish to demonstrate, and proceed to deduce from this assumption the conse- quences to which it leads. If, in this deduction, we arrive 93 at a consequence which we already know to be true, we conclude that the principle from which it was deduced is also true. But if, on the other hand, we arrive at a conse- quence which we know to be false, we conclude that the assumption on which the reasoning has proceeded is false also. — Such a demonstration of the truth or falsity of a proposition is called analytic. The meaning of the terms analysis and synthesis, when applied to Natural Philosophy and Metaphysics, has little resemblance to that in which they are are applied to Geometryj except that in those sciences, as in Geometry, analysis is usually the method of discovery, and synthesis the method of instruction. In them, the analytic method begins with those things which are most known ; ex- amines their properties and relations ; proceeds from effects to causes ; and from particular causes to the most general. The synthetic method proceeds from general to particular truths, from causes to effects. In acquiring the know- ledge of any physical science, we may adopt either of these methods : we may either examine all the particular things to which the science relates ; ascertain their various properties; classify them by placing together those in which there exists a striking similarity; review the classes, and re-arrange them according to more compre- hensive similarities ; and so on repeatedly, until we have formed classes of the most general nature: — or, we may begin by learning the most general classes, with their di- visions and subdivisions, and the distinguishing proper- ties of each, till we descend to the lowest species, and thence to individuals. This is the synthetic, the former is the analytic process. The original discoverer of the science must proceed by analysis. But in communi- cating the science to others, the synthetic mode is 94 generally adopted, as it displays the whole science at one view; and the general arrangement, seen from the beginning, greatly assists the mind in apprehending and remembering the several parts.* * Artis Logicae Rudimenta. de methodo, Stewart's Elements of Phi* josophy, vol. II. ch. iv. §. 3. NOTES. Art. 1. There are two meanings of the word idea, a popular and philosophical. In popular language, an idea is the same as a thought, or a notion. But according to the meaning of the word, as it was formerly used by philosophical writers, an idea is some object of thought. Aristotle taught that all the objects of thought enter at first by the senses; and since the sense cannot receive external material objects themselves, it receives their images or forms without the matter ; as wax receives the form of a seal without any of the matter of it. In like manner, many modern philosophers conceived that, since external objects cannot be the immediate objects of thought, there must be some image of them in the mind itself, in which, as in a mirror, they are seen. And the name idea, in the philosophical sense of it, is given to those internal and immediate objects of our thoughts. The external thing is the remote or mediate object; but the idea, or image of that object in the mind, is the immediate object, without which we could have no perception of the other. This opinion seems to have been held by Locke ; but it was con- futed by Reid, and is now generally abandoned. Reid expresses his belief that no man is able to explain how we perceive external objects, any more than how we are conscious of those that are internal. For this reason, after having shewn that the theories of former philosophers on this subject are ill-grounded and insufficient, he does not attempt to substitute any other theory in their place. (See Reid's Essays on the Intellectual Powers of Man, 1, 2.) Some writers have made a distinction between ideas and notions ; and, as a reason for it, they appeal to the derivation of the words ; the root of one being etZta to see, and the other yivcia-KO) to knowov understand. In their primary sense, therefore, notion is more com- I 96 prehensive than idea, because we know many things which cannot be seen. It is probable that, at first, the word idea was used to denote only those images of external objects which are received through the sense of sight. Its signification was afterwards extended to im- pressions produced through the other senses; and, finally, it was con- I founded with notion, which denotes the apprehension of whatever may be known. We are told that Dr. Johnson was indignant at the use of the word idea in this last sense, when, properly, it can only signify something of which an image may be formed in the mind. " We may have an idea or image of a mountain, a tree, or a building; but not of an argument or proposition." (Encyc. Brit. Art. Metaph. and Boswell's Life of Johnson, vol. III. p. 406.) There is however little probability that this distinction will ever be generally attended to, in popular use. The term Logic also is used by some writers in a sense much more extensive than by others. It is by some defined to be an art, which treats of practical rules for the exercise of the mind in reason- ing. In this sense, it is called an art, not a science, because it relates to something which is to be done, not to any thing which is merely to be known; to practice, not to theory* By others it is made to con- tain a description of the mental faculties, as well as the rules above- mentioned. Others extend it so far as to comprehend all that relates to the philosophy of the mind. When there exists such a variance in the meaning of a word, it is proper for every writer who uses it, to explain the meaning which he himself intends to annex to it. Art. 2. Though Locke has written at great length against the doctrine of innate ideas, it is not easy to determine in what sense the word innate was understood by him. If by innate be meant coeval with our birth, it can hardly be supposed that any person ever held the doctrine which he controverts ; but if, in denying that man has innate ideas, he meant that the mind is not so framed as that certain ideas will necessarily accompany the exercise of its faculties, and certain principles be approved by it in preference to others, he is not only opposed to almost all other philosophers, but is inconsistent with himself. "The First Book (says Dr. Beattie) of the Essay on the Human Understanding tends to establish this dangerous doctrine, that the human mind, previous to education and habit, is as susceptible of any one impression as of any other : — a doctrine which, if true, would go near to prove, that truth and virtue are no better than human con- trivances; or, at least, that they have nothing permanent in their nature ; but may be as changeable as the inclinations and capacities of men. Surely this is not the doctrine that Locke meant to establish ; but his zeal against innate ideas and innate principles, put him off his 97 guard, and made him allow too little for instinct, for fear of allowing too much." The word connatural, as proper to denote certain of our ideas, is given by Lord Shaftesbury. " Innate (he observes) is a word which Locke poorly plays upon : the right word, though less used, is connatural. For what has birth to do in this case ? — the question is not about the time the ideas entered ; but whether the constitution of man be such, that, being adult and grown up, at such a time, sooner or later (no matter when) the idea and sense of order, administration, and a God, will not infallibly, inevitably, necessarily spring up in him." That Locke was far from holding such opinions as his language respecting innate ideas might lead us to attribute to him, appears from his distinct disavowal of them in different parts of his Essay. " There is a great deal of difference (he says) between an innate law, and a law of nature ; between something imprinted on our minds in their very original, and something that we, being ignorant of, may attain to the knowledge of, by the use and due application of our natural faculties." (Book I. ch. iii. §. 13.) Again (Book IV. ch, iii. §. 20.) he speaks " of the candle of the Lord being set up by himself in men's minds, which it is impossible for the breath or power of man wholly to extinguish." (For an account of Locke's opinions on this subject and the discussions which they have excited, see Stewart's First Dissertation prefixed to the Supplement of the Encyclopedia Britannica, vol. V. p. 30.) Locke refers the origin of all our ideas to two sources, sensation and reflection : some writers have referred them to sensation alone. Nihil est in intellectu quod nonfuerit in sensu, was the maxim of these writers; and many of them have so far misinterpreted Locke as to ascribe to him the credit of having established it. This maxim, ex- tended by Leibnitz, became: nihilest in intellectu quod non fueritin sensu, nisi ipse intellectus ; which conveys, in a concise form, the sub- stance of Locke's doctrine. But, taken in its most extensive sense, this account of the origin of our ideas falls short of the truth. There are many ideas which cannot be directly referred either to sensation or reflection ; and all that can be said of them is, that the exercise of some particular faculty furnishes the occasion on which, by the laws of our constitution, they are present- ed to the mind ; nor does it seem possible for us to trace the origin of them any farther than to ascertain what the nature of the occasion was, which, in the first instance, introduced them to our notice. The feel- ings of pleasure and pain, of desire and passion, are born with us, and necessarily exist in a percipient mind. Thus, we are not only fur- 98 nished by the constitution of our nature with capabilities of knowledge, and proper organs for the attainment of it, but the principles which impel us to the acquisition of knowledge, viz. the desire of pleasure and the consciousness of enjoyment, are implanted in us, and exist in the mind before it is excited by external objects. (See Stewart's Ele« ments of Philosophy, vol. I. ch. i. §. 4. and Philosophical Essays, I. ch. ii. also the Edinburgh Encyclopedia, Art. Logic.) Art. 7. Extension and figure are classed by Locke, along with hardness, softness, roughness, and other similar qualities, under the general title of the primary qualities of matter. The propriety of making some distinction between them has been pointed out by Pro- fessor Stewart, who gives to extension and figure the title of the mathematical affections of matter; restricting the phrase -primary qualities to hardness, softness, and other properties of the same description. "And (he adds) the line which I would draw between these primary qualities and secondary is this ; that the former neces- sarily involve the notion of extension, and consequently of externality or outness; whereas the latter are only conceived as the unknown causes of known sensations, and, when first apprehended by the mind, do not imply the existence of any thing locally distinct from the sub- jects of its own consciousness." (Philosophical Essays, IT. ch. ii.) Art. 9. The name of every secondary quality signifies two things, a sensation in the mind, and the unknown quality which excites that sensation. When therefore a question is made whether fire is hot, or grass green, the answer is given by explaining the meaning of the words heat and colour. If we understand by them some unknown dis- position or motion of the insensible particles of bodies, by which the perception of heat or colour is caused in us, then fire is hot, and grass green. But if we understand by those words, what we feel by fire, or what we see in grass, — in that sense, fire is not hot, nor grass green ; for the heat we feel, and the colours we see, are only in the soul. Art. 10. It is remarked by Professor Stewart, that there is an inseparable connection in every person's mind between the notions of colour and of extension. The former of these words expresses a sensa- tion in the mind ; the latter denotes a quality of an external object ; so that there is no more natural connection betw T een the two notions, than between pain and solidity ; and yet, in consequence of our always perceiving extension at the same time at which the sensation of colour is excited in the mind, we find it impossible to think of that sensation, without conceiving extension along with it. Similar to this misconception, by which we refer the sensation of colour to an external object, is the reference which we always make of 99 the sensations of touch to those parts of the body, where the exciting causes of the sensations exist. If the hand be struck against a hard object, we naturally say that we feel pain in the hand; though the truth is, that we merely perceive the cause of the pain to be applied to that part of the body. The sensation itself cannot be referred in point of place to the hand, unless it be supposed that the soul is spread over the body by diffusion. The misconception is still more remarkable, when sensations of touch are referred to a place beyond the limits of the body ; as in the case of pain which seems to be felt in an ampu- tated limb. (Elements of Philosophy, Part II. ch. v. §.1. and Note P. Professor Brown's Lectures, 25.) The difference between perception and sensation (briefly stated in Articles 10, 11.) is explained at great length by Dr. Reid ; whose opinions on this subject, as on every other of which he treats, have the recommendation, not only of their great intrinsic worth, but also of being expressed in a plain and direct manner, and the most perspicu- ous language. Art. 16. Since it is impossible for us to understand how the mind acquires the first perception of ideas, it must be equally impossible to understand how it retains them. What Locke's opinions were on this subject cannot be ascertained with certainty, for he expresses them in metaphorical language, and he has not clearly explained whether he intended the metaphors which he uses to be understood as merely illustrative, or as representing literally the mental operations to which they are referred. He speaks of ideas as pictures drawn in our minds, and laid in fading colours ; and of the brain retaining the characters drawn on it, in some cases like marble, in others like freestone, and m others little better than sand; — which expressions are sufficiently accordant with the opinion held by him and by many other philoso- phers, that we perceive external objects by means of images of them conveyed to the brain. It has always been the common opinion that sensation, perception, and all the other operations of the mind are produced by impressions made on it by external objects. This opinion could only take its rise from observing the constant connection which exists between certain impressions made upon our senses, and our perception of the objects by which the impression is made ; from which it is inferred, that those impressions were the proper efficient causes of the corres- ponding sensation. But because two things are always conjoined, it is by no means a necessary consequence that one must be the cause of the other. Day and night are joined in constant succession, but we do not conclude from this, that day is the cause of night, or night the 12 100 cause of day. Therefore it is not only impossible to conceive, but also there is no real ground for supposing, that matter, by any motion or modification, produces thought. And if the nature of perception be thus inexplicable, we have equal reason to make the same acknowledgement with respect to memory. It is an original faculty given us by the Author of our being, of which we can give no account but that we are so made. We are told by Locke " that laying up our ideas in the repository of the memory sig- nifies no more than this, that the mind has a power to revive percep- tions which it once had, with this additional perception annexed to them, that it has had them before ; and in this sense it is, that our ideas are said to be in our memories, when indeed they are actually nowhere." But when a thing is nowhere, the same thing cannot be again pro- duced ; though another thing similar to it may. Hence, an ability to revive our ideas, after they have ceased to be, can signify no more but an ability to create new ideas similar to those we had before. Again, he says, "that the mind, as it were, paints the ideas anew upon itself. " This expression must imply that the mind, which paints the things that have ceased to exist, has the memory of what they were ; as a painter must have a copy, either before his eye or in his imagination and memory. On the whole, Locke's chapter on memory, though con- taining some fine remarks on the importance and the varieties of this faculty, does not, in the least degree, enable us to understand how we retain ideas by it. (See Reid, Essay II. ch. iv. and Essay III. ch. vii.) Art. 18. Since it was the prevailing opinion among ancient phi- losophers that the qualities of external objects are perceived by means of images transmitted to the mind by the organs of sense, and that these images are the objects about which our thoughts are employed, it naturally became a question, what is the nature of the idea or image corresponding to a general term. When we think of any particular object such as a particular man, tree, or mountain, we can understand what is meant by an image of such objects. But what account can we give, upon the principles of this theory, of the objects of our thoughts, when we use the words, man, tree, mountain, as general terms ? For all the things we have ever perceived are individuals ; and therefore the ideas denoted by general words, cannot be copied from any originals that have fallen under our observation. In answer to this question, it was taught for many ages, by the followers of Plato and Aristotle, that, although these general ideas are not copied from any objects perceiv- able by sense, yet, as all the individuals which compose a genus must possess something in common, this common thing forms the essence of 101 each, and is the object of thought, when we reason concerning the genus. Plato held that of every species of things there is one idea or form, which existed from eternity, before any individual of the species was formed : that this idea is the exemplar or pattern, according to which the Deity formed the individuals of the species : that every indi- vidual of the species partakes of this idea, which constitutes its essence; and that this idea is an object of thought, when, by due abstraction, we discern it to be one in all the individuals of the species. In this man- ner, according to Plato, we form universal or abstract ideas. In the eleventh century a new doctrine was introduced, that these abstract ideas have no existence ; that words or names are universal signs, but that every idea must be particular. The advocates of this new opinion were called Nominalists, to distinguish them from the Realists, who adhered to the ancient opinion that universal ideas exist, corresponding to the universal words which are used to denote them. A few formed themselves into a third sect called conceptualists, who seem to have agreed with the Nominalists in denying the existence of universal things, but to have thought in opposition to them, that, by means of its conceptions, the mind has the power of reasoning con- cerning genera, without the use of words, as signs of those concept tions. The dispute among these sects was carried on with the greatest animosity,' not by arguments only, but by bloody affrays, until the Reformation turned the attention of men to more important sub- jects. Dr. Reid has classed Locke among the conceptualists; as having maintained, not that there are things universal, but that we have general or universal ideas, which we form by abstraction. In speaking of these abstract ideas, Locke says that it is not so easy to form them, as it is to form particular ideas. " For example, does it not require some skill to form the general idea of a triangle ? For it must be nei- ther oblique, nor right-angled, neither equilateral, nor scalene ; but all and none of these at once. In effect, it is something imperfect that cannot exist, an idea wherein some parts of several different and inconsistent ideas are put together." Surely (to use the words of Campbell) the bare mention of this hypothesis is equivalent to a con- futation of it. (CampbelFs Philosophy of Rhetoric, vol. II. p. 110. Locke, Book IV. ch. vii. Reid, Essay V. ch. vi. Stewart. Elem. of Phil. vol. I. ch. iv.) Art. 39. It is stated in this Article that our knowledge chiefly -consists in the perception of the agreement or disagreement of our ideas : and perhaps it would have been proper to make even a stronger modification of Locke's doctrine, who refers all our knowledge to the 102 perception of such agreement or disagreement. The accuracy of this proposition depends on the sense in which the word idea is to be taken. Sometimes it is used by Locke as synonymous with thought ; in one place he defines it to be whatever is the object of thought ; — a defini- tion which would comprehend both things which have a real existence, and things which we either believe never existed, or which we think of without regard to their existence ; and in this sense it is undoubtedly true that all knowledge consists in perceiving the agreement or dis- agreement of ideas. But we have a knowledge of external objects ; and there is no reason to suppose that Locke held the opinion, which was subsequently professed by Berkeley, that external objects are nothing but thoughts or ideas. We must conclude therefore that, in this proposition, he understood the word in a third sense, in which he frequently takes it, viz. as the image or representative of an object, by means of which image the object is perceived. But in this sense of the word, the proposition is untenable; for if these ideas or images be the only objects of knowledge, we could have no knowledge of the ex- istence either of ourselves, or of external objects, or of the Supreme Being. The illustrations given by him of this proposition are borrowed chiefly from mathematics, and the relations about which that science is conversant. When applied to these relations, it is possible to annex some meaning to such expressions as comparing ideas, the juxta-position of ideas, the perception of the agreement or disagreement of ideas; but in most other branches of knowledge, this language will be found to be without meaning.^ (Reid, Essay VI, ch. hi. Stewart, vol. II. ch. ii. §.1.) Art. 43. This Article contains a very brief example of the meta- physical arguments which Clarke and others have advanced as a proof of the existence of God. As the summary of them is here given, it agrees in substance with the proof given by Locke, but is not placed in the same form nor expressed in the same language. Locke comprises his proof, at first, in a few sentences, and then restates and amplifies it. As it appears in its first form, it has little force ; and in its second form, it is diffuse and ill-arranged, and some parts of it inconclusive. For example, towards the conclusion of it, he professes to prove that matter is notcoeternal with an eternal mind ; but his proof amounts only to this, that the contrary proposition cannot be proved. These remarks,— and others which precede, directing the reader's attention to some of Locke's opinions which are now generally deemed erroneous, — are made because they seem to be required by the occa- 103 sion ; and are certainly not offered with any disposition to disparage the fame of that great Author. Any attempt of that sort, if such a disposition should exist, must be fruitless. For those errors are pointed out with proper freedom by Reid, Stewart, Campbell, and other emi- nent philosophers; but their animadversions are accompanied with such strong expressions of their general admiration of him, that we may conclude, from the ample testimony rendered by men so capable of forming a correct judgment, that the fame of Locke, as one of the greatest ornaments of our nation, rests upon grounds which cannot be shaken. Art, 63. By the syllogistic art, we are taught how to draw just conclusions from given premises. But the chief opportunity for the exercise of judgment, is in determining whether the premises ought to be granted or not ; and in this difficulty, the art of syllogizing affords little assistance. In many examples which are given of syllogisms, the premises contain affirmations which are not more evident or more easy to be established than the conclusion -which is deduced from them. Fre- quently the major-premise expresses a general truth, and the conclu- sion expresses merely a particular instance of it. But those who admit the general truth, will probably admit the particular instance, without being impelled to it by the force of a syllogism. For example, when it is said : All tyrants deserve death ; Nero was a tyrant ; therefore Nero deserved death: if we suppose the three propositions of this syllogism each to require proof, it is probable that the greatest difficulty would be found in proving the first ; which, in the syllogism, is assumed without proof. Hence, the common remark appears to be well-ground- ed, that the syllogistic art, however useful it may be in enabling us to detect error, cannot assist us to the discovery of any new truth. And so great has been the change of opinion as to the utility of this art that, after having been for a long period considered the bulwark of reasoning, it is now generally neglected ; the authority of Bacon, of Locke, of Reid, of Stewart having been sufficient to shake the credit of a system which had been founded by Aristotle, and adopted by all learned men, during many centuries, as the only test of just reasoning and of truth. Stewart, having expressed his opinion of the real value of the syllogistic art, concludes with observing that he wishes it not to be supposed, that he considers a general acquaintance with it as of no value, even in these times. " The technical language connected with it is now so incorporated with all the higher departments of learning that, independently of any consideration of its practical applications, some knowledge of its peculiar phraseology may be regarded as an 104 indispensable preparation both for scientific and for literary pursuits." He then quotes, with approbation, the following passage from the In* troduction to the Compendium of Logic used in the University of Dublin : Utrum haecce ars per se revera aliquem praestet usum, qui- dam dubitavere. Quoniam vero in Auctorum insigniorum scriptis saepe occurrant termini Logici. hos terminos explicatos habere, ideoque et ipsius artis partes praecipuas, omnino necessarium videtur. (Stewart, Elem. Phil. vol. II. ch. iii. §. 3. Ed. Encyc. Art. Logic.) AN INTRODUCTION TO me gtuirg OF THE HOLY SCRIPTURES. BY THE Rev. EDWARD BUSHBY, M. A. FELLOW OF ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE. CAMBRIDGE: PRINTED BY JOHN SMITH, Printer to the University. 1829 Sk This Introduction to the Study of the Holy Scriptures .has been prepared for the use of the Students of St. John's College, and is intended to occupy them only for a small part of one Term, during which other subjects require their attention, I have thought it necessary therefore to confine it within narrow limits, from regard to the purpose for which it is designed. In the course of the work, references have been made to the Authors from whom the materials of it have been chiefly derived. Recourse may be had to them for further information, on subjects which the nature of my design has obliged me to treat with great brevity. CONTENTS. I. A Summary of the Principal Events in the Jewish History 1 II. On the Forms of Government and Administration of Justice among the Jews 22 III. On the Sects and other Orders of Men among the Jews 32 IV. On the Jewish Priesthood 44 V. On the Jewish Sacrifices 54 VI. On the Jewish Festivals 62 VII. On the Places accounted Holy among the Jews 76 CHAPTER I. A SUMMARY OF THE PRINCIPAL EVENTS IN THE HISTORY OF THE JEWS. 1. Of the history of the human race before the deluge,, and during many centuries subsequent to it, no knowledge can be obtained by us, beyond that which is given in the Holy Scriptures. For such knowledge we must have recourse to the writings of Moses, who was enabled by divine inspiration to relate many important circumstances affecting the early genera- tions of mankind, with which we must otherwise have been unacquainted. From those writings alone, we derive an authentic account of the creation of the world, and of the introduction of sin and misery into it in consequence of the disobedience of our first parents to the command of their Maker. Respecting these great events, and all that befel the nations of the earth during a long succession of ages, profane history is either altogether silent, or is so mingled with manifest fable as to be entitled to no credit. In forming therefore a summary of the history of the Jews, we shall be occupied during a large period of it in making a statement of the most important circumstances, the authority for which is that of the Bible alone. 2. The Jews derive their name from Judah, one of the sons of Jacob: Judah being also the name of that tribe to which, in the division that was made of the A 2 Holy Land, the largest ancf best portion was allotted, and of which Jerusalem became the capital. They were sometimes called Hebrews, probably from Heber one pf the ancestors of Abraham ; and Israelites from Israel, a name which was given to Jacob. Although the history of them as a nation begins properly at the time when they departed from Egypt to take possession of Canaan, it may be useful to make a brief mention of some circumstances which are recorded in the Bible prior to that period. To Adam and Eve were born sons and daughters ; but the number of them is not stated. The only three whose names are mentioned are Cain, Abel and Seth ; and of these three the sacred historian has chiefly confined himself to the posterity of Seth, probably because he was the pro- genitor of Noah, and therefore in his line the Messiah was to be born. In the time of Noah, who was the ninth in descent from Adam, God destroyed by a deluge all the inhabitants of the earth, except Noah and his wife, and his three sons and their wives, and two, male and female, of every species of animals. This judgment was inflicted upon mankind 2348 years before the birth of Christ. When Noah descended from the ark, he offered sacrifice as a thanksgiving for his preservation, and God made a covenant with him that there should not be any more a flood to destroy the earth. 3. The descendants of Noah soon multiplied so greatly that a separation became necessary, and a part of them journeyed from the east, and settled in the land of Shinar, which is generally believed to be the same as Chaldsea, of which Babylon was afterwards the capital. Here they said, " Let us build us a city and a tower whose top may reach unto heaven, and let us make us a name, lest we be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth." Whatever the object of this work might be, it was displeasing to God, who by confounding their language so that they could not understand each other, compelled them to abandon the work, and to disperse themselves over the earth. Call of Abraham, the tenth in descent from Noah, Abraham* h as a l wa ys been regarded by the Jews as their great progenitor. His father Terah went forth with his family from Ur of the Chaldees, to go into the land of Canaan ; but he did not proceed further than Haran or Charran, in Mesopotamia, where he died. n Now the Lord had said unto Abraham, Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father's house, unto a land that I will shew thee ; and I will make of thee a great nation, and in thee shall all the families of the earth be blessed." In compliance with this command, Abraham departed from Haran and went into the land of Canaan, accompanied by Sarah his wife, Lot his brother's son, and all their substance. This removal took place 1921 years before the birth of Christ. " And the Lord appeared unto Abram, and said, Unto thy seed will I give this land;" — a promise which was fulfilled 476 years after it was given, when the Israelites took possession of Canaan under the command of Joshua. 4. The Bible records many interesting particulars of the life of this patriarch, and also of Isaac and Jacob; but the statement of them is not necessary here. When Jacob went to live with his son Joseph in Egypt, his whole family consisted of 70 persons. They were placed near the head of the Delta on the eastern side of the Nile in the district of Rameses or Goshen, a fertile country, and well suited to their occupation as shepherds. Here they and their descendants " increased abundantly, and the land was filled with them. But at length a2 there arose a new king over Egypt, which knew not Joseph." About 60 years after the death of Joseph, this new king, afraid lest the Israelites might soon be able to seize the whole kingdom, determined to check their progress by cruel exactions and labour. He also ordered the Hebrew midwives to put all the male infants to death as soon as they were born, and when this was not executed, he ordered that every male child of the Hebrews should be cast into the river. But the designs of the Almighty were now hastening to their accomplish- ment, and he began to interfere in behalf of his chosen people. And he called unto Moses out of the midst of a flaming bush and said, "> The cry of the children of Israel is come unto me: I will send thee therefore unto Pharaoh, that thou mayest bring forth my people out of Egypt." Being now increased to 600,000 men capable of bearing arms, they with their families and great possessions of flocks, herds, and other property, departed from Egypt 1491 years before the birth of Christ. Departure of A direct journey would have led them to the Israelites Canaan in a short time, but it pleased God to from Egijpt. punish them for repeated acts of distrust and disobedience, by causing them to wander in the wilderness of Arabia for 40 years. Moses has recorded the transactions of only three years, viz. the two first and the last, but he has mentioned all the places where they pitched their tents during the whole time they were in the wilderness. In the first year they were conducted to Mount Sinai, from which God delivered to them those commandments, statutes and ordinances, which are generally called the law of Moses, or the Mosaic Dispensation. When they arrived at Kadesh Barnea, not far from the south border of Canaan, Moses sent twelve men, a ruler from every tribe, to o ascertain the quality of the land, the strength of the inhabitants, and the state of the cities. They brought back a favourable report of the fertility of the land, but described the cities and people as so strong, that the Israelites refused to attempt the proposed conquest. Joshua and Caleb, two of the twelve spies, endeavoured in vain to convince them that their fears were unreasonable, and on account of their rebellion on this occasion, God commanded that they should turn back and wander in the wilderness 40 years, telling them also that, of all who had reached the twentieth year of their age, not one, except Joshua and Caleb, should ever enter the promised land. Many memorable events occurred during their subsequent wanderings, especially the rebellion of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, in the second year, and in the fortieth year, the visitation of fiery serpents, by which great multitudes perished. In this last year Aaron died at mount Hor; and soon afterwards Moses, having viewed the promised inheritance from Pisgah the top of mount Nebo, died at the age of 120, when none of his faculties were impaired : " his eye was not dim, nor his natural force abated/' 5. Joshua, having now assumed the command, pro- ceeded without delay to the conquest of Canaan. In seven years he subdued 31 kings; the term king being sometimes applied to a prince who reigned over a small number of subjects within a narrow territory, and consequently possessed little wealth or power. When the conquest was nearly completed, the land was divided by lot. To the tribes of Reuben and Gad, and to one half of the tribe of Manasseh, Moses had already allotted some conquered lands on the eastern side of the river Jordan, upon condition that they should assist their brethren to subdue the country on the western side of A3 that river, and having fulfilled the condition, they were confirmed in the possession of those lands by Joshua, No allotment, except 48 cities to dwell in, was made to the tribe of Levi, because they were appointed to the services of religion, and received the tithes of the whole country for a maintenance ; but the whole country was divided into 12 parts, the descendants of Joseph being separated into two tribes, which from his two sons were called the tribe of Ephraim, and the tribe of Manasseh. Thus the great work was completed, u according to all that the Lord sware unto their fathers. There failed not aught of any good thing, which the Lord had spoken unto the house of Israel : all came to pass/' 6. After the death of Joshua, the tribes were no longer united under one command. They soon fell into apostacy ; for, having begun to make the conquered nations tributary, instead of utterly destroying them as God commanded, they intermarried with the inhabitants, and took a part in the worship of idols. On account of their impiety, they were allowed to fall at different times under the yoke of neighbouring nations. Cushan king of Mesopotamia held them in subjection for more than eight years, till Othniel, a son-in-law and nephew of Caleb, raised an army against the oppressor, and having effected a permanent deliverance for the Israelites judged them in peace 40 years* In the person of Othniel began a series of such deliverers called Judges, who were raised at intervals, as public exigency required, to rescue their nation from the tyranny of neighbouring powers. This mode of government continued a little more than 300 years. The most eminent of the Judges were Deborah the prophetess, Gideon, Jephthah, Eli, Samuel. In the time of Samuel, a complete change was made in the form of government. When he was old „ e appointed his two sons to a share of his authority, and on account of their misconduct all the elders gathered themselves together, and petitioned that like other nations they might have a king. Samuel, by the command of God, protested against their proceedings, and represented the evils which would follow the establishment of regal authority, but they persevered in their request, and Samuel w r as therefore directed to anoint Saul, of the tribe of Benjamin, to be king of Israel. 7. Saul began to reign 1095 years before the birth of Christ. His distempered mind brought him into great troubles, and the termination of his life was disastrous; for he died by his own hand, after being defeated by the Philistines. His reign continued 40 years, which was also the period of David's reign, and of that of Solomon. David experienced great variety of fortune, but the final result was prosperous, and he terminated his life in glory, having greatly extended the Israelitish power. The reign- of Solomon was peaceful and glorious, being particularly distinguished by the building of the temple, for which great preparations had already been made by his father. He laid the foundation of it in the fourth year of his reign, and completed it in the eleventh. In the latter years of his life, he tarnished his great name by resigning himself to concubines, many of them taken from idolatrous nations whose superstitions he adopted ; and he built high places near to Jerusalem for all his strange wives, H which burnt incense, and sacrificed unto their gods." This conduct drew upon him the indignation of the Almighty, who told him that his kingdom should be rent, and the largest portion pass away from his family. Separation of 8. This leads us to one of the most im- S2KJ- portant events in the Jewish history ' the Judah. departure of ten tribes from their allegi* 8 ance to the house of David, and the consequent establish- ment of the separate kingdoms of Judah and Israel. As soon as Rehoboam the son of Solomon ascended the throne, the people intreated him to lighten the yoke with which they had been burthened by his father, but he replied to their prayer, saying, " My father made your yoke heavy, and I will add to your yoke: my father also chastised you with whips, but I will chastise you with scorpions." On receiving this answer, ten of the tribes revolted and chose Jeroboam to be their king, while the tribes of Judah and Benjamin remained faithful to the son of Solomon. Thus originated a schism which was never healed, and was terminated only by the over- throw of the kingdom of Israel about 250 years after it was established, when the ten tribes were carried captive by Shalmaneser king of Assyria, and so scattered through his vast empire, that they seem never afterwards to have regained a separate and independent existence. This period of 250 years was occupied with frequent wars be- tween the kings of Judah and Israel, and between them and the neighbouring kings, and is marked in general by a series of murderous usurpations of the throne, idolatries, and oppressions of the people. This is chiefly observable of the kings of Israel, of whom there were 1& and it is said of them all, " that they did evil in the sight of the Lord, and made Israel to sin." Of these kings, the most conspicuous in the history are, (1) pmri, who built Sama- ria (923 B. C.) and made it his capital ; (2) Ahab his son and successor, who married Jezebel daughter of the king of Sidon, and in whose time Elijah and Elisha announced the divine judgments, and wrought many remarkable miracles ; (3) Jehu, who was raised by God as an instrument of his vengeance on the house of Ahab ; (4) Hoshea the last king, who was carried by Shalma- neser into captivity. 9 During this same period, some of the kings of Judah were remarkable for their obedience to the law of God. The most worthy of mention are Jehoshaphat (contem- porary with Ahab,) who was eminent alike for regard to religion and success in arms ; and Hezekiah. in the sixth year of whose reign Shalmaneser put an end to the Israelitish monarchy. 9. Thus the kingdom of Judah remained alone. An attack was made upon it about ten years after the cap- tivity of the ten tribes, while Hezekiah was yet king, by Sennacherib who had succeeded Shalmaneser on the throne of Assyria. When he was threatening to destroy Jerusalem, c< an angel of the Lord went forth, and smote in the camp of the Assyrians 185,000 men" in a single night. Sennacherib was compelled to retreat, and was soon afterwards put to death at Nineveh by two of his own sons. The reign of Hezekiah is further memorable for his miraculous recovery from sickness, and for the intimation made to him by the prophet Isaiah of the approaching Babylonian Captivity ; — an intimation given for the purpose of checking the pride which he had exhibited in displaying the treasures of his house to a Babylonian embassy. The kings who succeeded Heze- kiah, with the single exception of Josiah his great grandson, concurred in filling up the measure of Judah's crimes by their wickedness and folly. "And the Lord said, I will remove Judah also out of my sight, as I have removed Israel; and will cast off this city Jerusalem which I have chosen, and the house of which I said, My name shall be there." Accordingly, Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon invaded Judaea and took Jerusalem. On this occasion the children of the royal family and many of the people were sent captives to Babylon, and from this time, (606 years- B. C.) is to be dated the com-^ 10 mencement of the Babylonian Captivity,, which, according to the prediction of Jeremiah, was to continue 70 years. 18 years after this first capture of Jerusalem, the Jewish monarchy was finally terminated, in the reign of Zede- kiah, who was sent in chains to Babylon. The walls of Jerusalem, the temple and all the buildings were destroyed ; and the inhabitants were carried away captive, except the poor of the land who were left to be vine- dressers and husbandmen. Thus ended the sovereignty of the house of David. Return of the 10 ' When C ? rus the Great ' havin S COn - Jews after the quered Babylon, issued his decree for the Babylonian restoration of the Jews, about 42,000 of them Captivity. an( j 7 000 servan t s placed themselves under the conduct of Zerubbabel, and returned to their country. In the beginning of the second year after their return they began to rebuild the temple upon the old founda- tions, and finished it in 18 years, having met with great interruption from the Samaritans. These Samaritans were descended from a mixed race w r hich had been drawn from various parts of the east, and planted by Shal- maneser in the country previously occupied by the ten tribes. They received the Mosaic law ; but united with the observance of it the idolatrous rites of their own countries. Being informed that the Jews were preparing to build a temple, they expressed a desire to take a part in the work, as being worshippers of the same God; but the offer was refused, and thereby that enmity be- tween the two nations was inflamed, which had taken its origin in the schism of the ten tribes and was never afterwards extinguished. Many of the sacred vessels and treasures of the temple were carried back from Babylon by Zerubbabel, and the rest a few years afterwards by Ezra, to whom 11 the Jews were chiefly indebted for the re-establishment of their worship and of civil order. To him also we owe the revision of the sacred writings and the arrangement of them in the order which they yet retain. Ezra was succeeded by Nehemiah, who obtained authority from the king of Persia to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem, which he completed in 52 days. He also exerted great diligence in completing the reformation of the State; and people having been brought from other parts of the land to re- occupy the city, it was seen again in something like its ancient splendour. 11. It is probable that, after Nehemiah, no separate governor of Judaea was appointed, its affairs being admi- nistered by the high priests under the control of the prefects of Syria. In this state it continued till the overthrow of.the Persian empire by Alexander the Great, who treated the Jews with great lenity, allowing them to live under their own laws, and in the free exercise of their religion. From the time of his death, (323 B. C.) to the time when they were made tributary to the Romans by Pompey, (63 B. C.) they underwent a great variety of fortune, being sometimes favourably treated, at other times oppressed by the kings of Egypt and Syria, who held them successively in subjection. Ptolemy Lagus, (Alexander's general, and first of the family of the Ptolemies who were kings of Egypt,) having gained possession of Jerusalem by a stratagem, carried above 100,000 of the Jews captives into Egypt; where however they were treated with great kindness both by himself, and afterwards by his son who permitted many of them to return to their own country. This son was Ptolemy Philadelphus ; a prince endowed with excellent qualities, and eminent, above all, for the translation of the Holy Scriptures into Greek, which was made at Alexandria 12 under his patronage by 72 learned Jews. This work was finished about the year 277 B. C, and from the number of translators has been ever since called the Septuagint. The family of the Ptolemies retained authority over Judaea about a hundred years, and were then compelled to resign it to Antiochus the Great, king of Syria. To him succeeded, first, his eldest son Seleucus, and then another son, Antiochus Epiphanes ; from whose tyranny, for three years and a half, the Jews underwent dreadful sufferings. During the reign of this oppressor (about 166 years B. C.) arose the Maccabees, a family of brave men whose struggle with him and his successors ended in the complete liberation of their country from the Syrian yoke. This was effected about 129 years B. C; after which time the Maccabees held supreme authority, uniting in themselves the dignities of king and high priest, till the year 63 B. C. A contest having then arisen between two brothers, Hyrcanus and Aris- tobulus, respecting the succession, and application for support being made by both parties to Pompey, he ended the dispute by leading his army into Judaea and making it tributary to the Romans. Hyrcanus was made high priest and honoured with the title of prince; but he possessed little more than nominal power, and willingly allowed the government of the country to be conducted by Antipater, who was an Idumaean by birth, but had become a Jewish proselyte. Aristobulus and his sons made repeated efforts to displace their opponents, and gained temporary successes ; but in the end they were wholly discomfited. After the death of Antipater, the contest was carried on between his son Herod (generally distinguished by the name of Herod the Great) and Antigonus one of the sons of 13 Aristobulus; and though the greatest part of the Jewish nation was attached to the latter, probably from respect to him as being of the Maccabaean family, yet the fortune of Herod prevailed. Having fled to Rome and gained from the Senate, chiefly through the influence of Mark Antony, the title of king of Judaea, he returned to the contest : at the end of three years, Jerusalem was taken : Antigonus having been made prisoner was ordered by Mark Antony to be put to death : the Maccabaean dynasty after having continued nearly ISO years was thus finally overthrown, and Herod (37 B. C.) was established in full exercise of the power which his new title denoted. 13. As Herod is a name that occurs frequently in the New Testament, and is applied to different persons of the same family, it is necessary that care be taken to distinguish them one from another. Herod the Great was approaching to the close of his reign, when our Saviour was born. Expecting that the Messiah was to be a temporal prince who might wrest the sovereignty from himself or his family, he determined to destroy him, and with that view ordered that all the children at Bethlehem, of two years old and under, should be put to death ; but his design was frustrated by the flight of Joseph with the young child and his mother into Egypt. In the second year after the birth of our Saviour, Herod the Great died. He is represented by historians as having possessed great abilities and courage, splendid in every exhibition of royalty, and especially in the magnificence of his build- ings. Samaria which he rebuilt, and called Sebaste in honour of Augustus ; the port and city of Caesarea on the coast of Phoenicia which he greatly improved and adorn- ed ; superb palaces ; and, above all, the rebuilding of the B 14 temple at Jerusalem, are proofs of his grandeur in this respect. But these good qualities were more than coun- terbalanced by extreme inhumanity. His disposition, naturally bold and ferocious, seems to have been irritated into frenzy by domestic troubles, and the difficulties which beset his throne. His wife Mariamne, an excellent princess, and once greatly beloved by him, was led to a public execution; the most powerful of his subjects, many of his friends, and even the greatest part of his own family fell victims to his cruel jealousy. When he was suffering by a painful disease, and saw that death was at hand, expecting that it would be hailed by his subjects with joy, he determined to leave them some cause for mourning. Having summoned all the chief men of his kingdom, and caused them to be surrounded with troops, he ordered that as soon as he expired they should be put to death. His successor however declined to execute this barbarity. 14. Three sons of Herod the Great are mentioned in the New Testament, between whom by his will he divided his dominions, viz. (1) Archelaus, to whom he gave the kingdom of Judaea, together with Idumaea and Samaria; (2) Herod Antipas ; whom he appointed tetrarch or governor of Galilee and Peraea; (3) Philip; whom he also made tetrarch of Ituraea, Trachonitis and some other small districts situated beyond Jordan. Archelaus was acknowledged king by the people with loud acclamations, but their joy seems to have been of short continuance, for when he went to Rome shortly afterwards for the purpose of soliciting from Augustus a confirmation of his regal title, a deputation of Jews arrived to oppose his application, requesting that their country might be annexed to the province of Syria, and that they might be allowed the exercise of their own 15 religion and laws under Roman governors. Augustus however thought fit to ratify Herod's will, except that he withheld from Arehelaus the regal title, and gave him that of tetrarch, with a promise that the other should be granted when he had proved himself worthy of it. Having however after his return continued to act with great cruelty and injustice, at length, in the tenth year, of his government, such complaints were made against him by the chief men among his subjects, that Augustus banished him to Vienne in Gaul, where he died. Judaea, with Samaria and Idumaea, was made a Roman province and governed by Roman magistrates called Procurators, who were subordinate to the president of Syria. Coponius was the first procurator of Judaea, and the president of Syria at that time was Quirinus, (called by St. Luke Cyrenius) who, by the order of Augustus, made a taxing in Judaea and Syria. In the mean while, Herod Antipas and Philip remained in possession of their Tetrarchies. Herod Antipas is chiefly memorable for having put to death John the Baptist, and for having taken a part in questioning and mocking our Saviour before his con- demnation. Having deserted his wife the daughter of Aretas king of Arabia, he married Herodias the wife of his brother Philip; and this marriage was the cause of his ruin. For when the emperor Caligula had given the title of king to Agrippa, who was the nephew of Antipas, Herodias not being able to bear that Antipas should remain contented with the inferior dignity of tetrarch, urged him to go to Rome and solicit the title of king. But Agrippa countermined him, by giving Caligula just reason for suspecting his loyalty; so that instead of making him king, he banished him to Lyons, and after- wards to Spain, after he had held his tetrarchy 43 years, b2 16 Of his brother Philip, who was tetrarch of Ituraea and Trachonitis, little - mention is made in the New Testament. Josephus commends him as a mild and just prince. He died in possession of his tetrarchy, having held it 37 years. 15. The next Herod of this family, is the Agrippa above-mentioned, sometimes called Agrippa the Great; who is spoken of in the Acts as having stretched forth his hands to vex certain of the Church, and as having killed James the brother of John with the sword, and cast Peter into prison. He was grandson of Herod the Great; being son of Aristobulus, who was one of those children of Herod the Great before alluded to as having fallen victims to their father's cruelty. To this Agrippa, Caligula gave, first, the title of king with the tetrarchy which had been held by Philip, and afterwards added the tetrarchy from which Herod Antipas was deposed. The emperor Claudius, who succeeded Caligula, further gave him Abilene, Judaea, and Samaria; so that his dominions became nearly the same as those of his grand- father Herod the Great. Like him, he delighted in great and magnificent buildings. Josephus represents him also as liberal, courteous, merciful: with which character however, his zealous persecution of the Christians cannot easily be reconciled. It is admitted by the historian, that some of his subjects retained little respect for his memory; and in the Acts of the Apostles, we find his death specially ascribed to the displeasure of God. In the fourth year after he had obtained from Claudius the kingdom of Judaea, when he was attending a public spectacle at Caesarea, and had made an oration to certain deputies, "the people gave a shout, saying, It is the voice of a god, and not of a man." For accepting this impious adulation, he was immediately smitten with a dreadful disease, which in a few days terminated his life. 17 16. The last of the family of Herod, whose name occurs in the New Testament, is Agrippa the younger, son of Agrippa the Great. As he was only seventeen years old when Agrippa the Great died, the emperor Claudius did not consider him competent to undertake the government of his father's dominions, but soon afterwards made him king of Chalcis, a small territory situated in the mountainous district by which the northern part of Judaea is separated from Syria. His government was afterwards extended over a part of Galilee; and in Judaea his influence was great, though he was never invested with the supreme authority. The appointment of the high priest belonged to him, and he had the care of the temple and of the sacred treasure. In what year he died is uncertain ; but it is known that he survived his country, having in vain endeavoured to prevent the fall of it by his prudent counsels. It was before this Agrippa, attended by Bernice and Festus, that St. Paul made his defence, before he was carried prisoner to Rome. On reviewing that part of the Jewish history which brings before us the family of Herod, and which is most interesting to us, as comprising the period of our Saviour's life, it appears, (1) that, during the infancy of Christ, Herod the Great was ruler both in Judaea and Galilee; (2) that, during all the remaining part of the life pf Christ, Herod Antipas was ruler in Galilee ; (2) that, in Judaea, after the death of Herod the Great, Archelaus held the chief power nearly ten years; and that afterwards it was governed by Roman procurators; except during the short reign of Agrippa the Great, whose government of Judaea commenced about eight years after the crucifixion of Christ. 17- The corruption and wickedness of the Jews B3 18 became general and excessive in the times which im- mediately preceded their final overthrow. The severe rebukes addressed to them by our Saviour are in perfect accordance with the representations given by Josephus. He speaks of it " as a time fruitful of all sorts of wicked- ness., so that no evil was left unpractised. All were corrupt both in their private and public characters. They strove to exceed each other in impiety toward God, and injustice toward their neighbour ; the chiefs oppressed the people, and the people strove to ruin the chiefs. The former were ambitious of dominion and power ; the latter had an insatiable thirst of violence and plunder." When they had filled up the measure of their iniquity by putting to death the Messiah, their dreadful impreca- tion that his blood should be upon them and upon their children did not tarry long for its completion. Many intimations are given in the New Testament of the impatience with which they bore the Roman yoke. To a people so proud and licentious any regular authority would have been galling : but the rapacity of some of the Roman governors was unbounded, and their injustice and cruelty so wanton, that the most virtuous and patient subjects must have been excited to resistance. Many local tumults, in which great numbers perished, preceded the general revolt. The country for several years was in a state bordering upon anarchy; pillaged by robbers, and agitated by false prophets, who fanned the flames of discontent. The last of the Roman governors was Gessius Florus, in comparison with whose tyranny the conduct of all preceding oppressors appeared merciful. When Cestius Gallus the president of Syria visited Jerusalem, above 300,000 of the Jews went out to meet him, imploring him to succour their afflicted country, and banish Florus who 19 was the very pest of their nation. Being exhorted to continue in obedience to the Romans, they cried out that they meant not to take arms against the Romans and Caesar, but against Florus who had used them so cruelly. Destruction of 18. The war began in the twelfth year of Jerusalem. t ] le re ig n f Nero. The Roman garrison at Jerusalem was put to the sword, and. the revolt soon became general throughout Judaea. Cestius Gallus, roused by the rapid progress of the insurgents, assembled an army of 25,000 men, and advanced to the walls of Jerusalem; but, having hesitated to make the assault, he thought fit suddenly to retreat, and being pursued by the Jews he sustained great loss. When intelligence of these events reached Rome, Nero perceived that the most vigorous measures must be adopted to reduce the rebellious pro- vince to submission; and he appointed Vespasian, who had been long distinguished in the wars of Germany and Britain, to the command of the army of Syria. Vespasian repaired thither without delay, and led into Judaea an army of 60,000 men. More than two years were spent in reducing cities and fortresses, before the way was open to Jerusalem; the Jews every where fighting with obstinate bravery, and in many cases preferring a voluntary death to submission, when all hope of successful resistance was at an end. In the mean time Vespasian, having been elected Emperor, returned to Rome to secure his new dignity and left his son Titus to finish the contest. In the beginning of April (A. D. 70) it being now the fourth year of the war, Titus began the siege of Jerusalem, at a time when great numbers were collected there to celebrate the Passover. Three separate factions occupied the city, and fought with more bitter hostility against each other than against the common enemy. Famine also and disease aggravated the misery of the besieged : 20 yet, though repeated efforts were made by Titus to induce them to save the city and themselves by submis- sion, they replied only with threats and insult. At length on the eighth of September, the Romans were in possession of every part of the city. Thousands of the Jews perished in the flames, and still more by the sword of the enemy, who spared neither sex nor age, nor desisted till their hands were fatigued with slaughter. Of those who escaped death, some were sent into Egypt to be employed in the public works, others were dispersed through the provinces of the empire, to fight as gladiators or with wild beasts in the Theatres. The whole city was levelled with the ground, so that those who had not seen it before could not suppose that it had been ever inha- bited : nothing was left standing except a part of the wall and three towers; which were intended partly as a defence for the garrison that remained there, and partly as monuments of the Roman valour which had mastered a city so strongly fortified. Such was the end of the Jewish nation. From the statements given by Josephus it has been computed that nearly a million and a half of the Jews perished in this war, the greater part of them in Jeru- salem itself; and it is probable that the miseries which they underwent during this period have not been paral- leled in any age of the world. CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE. ** B. C. Creation 4004 The Deluge . 2348 Building of Babel 2247 Call of Abraham 1921 Arrival of Jacob in Egypt 1706 Departure of the Israelites from Egypt 1491 Saul, the first king of the Jews, began to reign. . . 1095 Revolt of the ten tribes 975 The ten tribes carried away captive by Shalmaneser 721 The Jews carried captive to Babylon 606 Restoration of the Jews by Cyrus 536 Alexander the Great went to Jerusalem. 332 Rise of the Maccabees 166 Invasion of Judaea by Pompey 63 Herod the Great began to reign 37 Our Saviour born four years before the vulgar aera. . 4 A. D. Christ's first visit to the Temple, in his 12th year. . . 8 John the Baptist began his ministry " in the 15th 1 ^ year of Tiberius." J Christ began his ministry 28 Death of Christ 31 Beginning of the Jewish war 67 Jerusalem taken by Titus 70 These dates are given according to the vulgar asra, by which the birth of Christ is placed four years too late. Unless notice be taken of this, the reader may be led into error. For example, it is stated in the table that Herod the Great began to reign 37 B. C. and since it is agreed that he lived one year at least after Christ was born, it might be inferred that his reign continued at least 38 years, whereas it did not continue more than 34. CHAPTER II. ON THE FORMS OF GOVERNMENT AND ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE AMONG THE JEWS. 1. X HE maintenance of the worship of one God was a fundamental principle of the Mosaic legislation. In order to secure attention to this principle in the minds of the Jews, Moses engaged them by a solemn covenant to accept God as their King; so that every act of idolatry was not only an apostacy from true religion, but a direct crime against the State. For this reason it was ordered that the idolater, having incurred the guilt of high treason, should be punished with death. Their commonwealth therefore was at first a theocracy ; for God was the founder of it, and had been acknowledged by them in a solemn covenant, not merely as the Sovereign of the universe, but as their own special Ruler, to whose protection they committed their national as well as individual prosperity. Accord- ingly they are often represented in Scripture as a chosen generation, a peculiar people, a holy nation, the portion of God. In the time of Moses, He vouchsafed to indicate his presence as their Ruler by the most conspicuous tokens. When the Law was delivered from Sinai, the Lord descended upon it in fire, the whole mount quaked greatly, and God answered Moses by a voice. He was visible also in the pillars of cloud and fire ; He decided questions of justice by oracles, and inflicted punishments, 23 not according to the secret procedure of Providence, but with immediate and the most ostensible manifestation of his power. And in subsequent times he continued to issue his decrees, and to signify his will from the tabernacle. As the sovereignty was thus assigned to God himself, the form of government established by Moses did not prescribe the appointment of an earthly king. The governor of the nation admitted of change as to the name and nature of his office, it being of inferior moment whether he was called a general, or a judge, or a king; and it appears that at certain times the tribes which composed the nation had no common ruler. They adhered to the patriarchal mode of life, as far as was compatible with the circumstances of a nation; living according to their tribes and families ; every tribe forming a lesser commonwealth, with its own peculiar interests, and all of them united in one great State. Every tribe had its own chief; and as we do not find that Moses appointed them, it is probable that this institution had existed among them in Egypt. The tribes were sub- divided into families; the heads of which are probably the same as the elders who are mentioned in the book of Exodus, as being gathered together by Moses and Aaron, and informed of their approaching release from bondage. These families were again sub-divided into households; so that a regular subordination was established in their civil and religious polity, all the degrees of which were alike subject to divine laws, and to the especial government of God. Hence it will appear how the State might subsist, not only without a king, but even occasionally without that magistrate who was denominated a Judge, and without any supreme council of the nation. Every tribe had always its own chief 24 magistrate, subordinate to whom were the heads of families ; and if there was no general ruler of the whole people, there were yet twelve lesser commonwealths, which upon great emergencies united together, and in their general convention would take measures for the common interest. And all these separate bodies were maintained in unity, by their respect for the same object and ceremonies of worship, and also by their regard to God as having separated them from the rest of mankind, and exercising over them a peculiar sovereignty. In conformity with this theocratic principle of govern- ment, we find that Moses and Joshua, and many of the leaders who succeeded them under the name of Judges, were appointed to their office, not by the people but by the nomination and authority of God. These Judges were not invested with legislative power, but acted as magistrates in peace or, as commanders, they led out the people in the divine strength to war, pro- fessing to exercise a delegated authority and guided in their steps by the immediate dictation of the divine Spirit. They held their office for life: but it was not hereditary, nor were they appointed in regular succes- sion; there being intervals of several years in which there were no such governors. It is also probable, that their authority did not in every case extend over all, but merely over particular tribes. Thus the Gilead- ites chose Jephthah as Judge and general, without waiting for the concurrence of the other tribes a : and on many important occasions, even in the conduct of wars, particular tribes seem to have acted independently and distinctly from the rest. a Judges xi. 6. 25 2. When this mode of government had continued more than 300 years/ the Israelites, perceiving that Samuel was broken with age and being dissatisfied with the administration of his sons, had the boldness to require a king like all other nations. Samuel expressed his displeasure at this demand, as it seemed to declare that they would no longer have God for their king; and he represented in strong terms the oppressions and the mischiefs they should suffer-under the kingly government. w Nevertheless, the people refused to obey the voice of Samuel; and the Lord said, Hearken unto their voice, and make them a king/' They did not, however, attempt to elect a king themselves, but waited for the divine appointment, so that care was taken to preserve in its full force the theocracy originally esta- blished. Although therefore the administration of the government was committed to the hands of kings, yet they were only the vicegerents of God, who was still looked upon as the supreme director, and reserved to himself the chief legislative authority. In one view this change was beneficial, as it secured an uninterrupted succession of governors, so that the nation after this period was never without a common head : but in other respects, it appears to have been a change in the name of the first magistrate, rather than in the functions of the office, and the kings, at the beginning at least, had little more power than the Judges who had pre- ceded. It is difficult, however, to collect from the Old Testament what were the precise powers with which the kings were intrusted, nor indeed is it likely that the Israelites were anxious to guard their liberties by stipulations of any sort. In their first eagerness to have a king like all the other nations, they would probably have been satisfied with a kingly despotism; C 26 that being the most prevalent form of government among the oriental nations. There is some ground for supposing that Samuel was more provident than themselves for the well-being of their State. For when Saul was appointed king, it is said that Samuel told the people the manner of the kingdom, and wrote it in a book, and laid it up before the Lord b . But the purport of the articles con- tained in this writing is no where stated. ^ , , As to the order of succession to the throne, Order of sue- ... cession to the there was considerable irregularity : Saul throne. was ma( J e king by divine appointment, and by the same authority David succeeded him ; Saul's family being excluded from the succession by the express com- mand of God, as a punishment for his disobedience. Afterwards the succession was hereditary, but not ne- cessarily by the right of primogeniture; for David caused Solomon, who was not his eldest son, to be anointed as his successor, and the people confirmed the king's will, though Adonijah, the eldest son, was - sup- ported by Joab the commander of the army. But it is plain from the history of David's reign, that this arbi- trary right of selecting a successor, instead of appointing him according to an invariable law, was dangerous to his own security, as well as to the peace of the State : and since we do not find that any of the following kings acted upon this right, it is probable that they abstained or were prohibited from the exercise of it, on account of the experience which had been felt of its mischievous effects. Power of The power of the kings, estimated from the kings. their practice, was unsettled and precarious; — very limited on some occasions, whether by express b 1 Sam. x. 25. 27 compact or by the dread of popular resistance; while at other times, it is certain that they acted in an abso- lute and very tyrannical manner. On the one hand, they were checked by a fear of the army and of its commanders, and also by the chiefs of the tribes, which, even under the kings, exercised the right of making war, independently one of another and without the king's sanction. Thus, Saul was prevented by his army from inflicting death upon Jonathan as he had threatened 6 : and David, unable to punish Joab his nephew for the murders committed by him, lamented that he was weak although anointed king, and that his nephews "the sons of Zeruiah were too hard for him d ." On the other hand, as proofs of the power which they sometimes as- sumed, we find that Saul, at the very beginning of his reign, without any consultation of his subjects made war upon the Ammonites and commanded his whole people to appear in arms, under a threat of severe punishment if they disobeyed e . And acts of summary and even tyrannical judicial procedure were committed by him, and also by David and Solomon; such acts as betoken the possession and the harsh exercise of unrestrained authority. From these opposite indications we may infer that the power of the Jewish kings was not defined by stipulated forms, such as have been devised by the precautions of modern legislation, and of which long experience has taught mankind the utility ; and therefore, theoretically, the Jewish monarch might consider himself invested with power little less than absolute. But on the other hand, practically, he would in most cases be restrained from a capricious abuse of it by reverence for the laws of Moses, which enjoin upon all men the c 1 Sam. xiv. 45. d 2 Sam. iii. 39. e 1 Sam. xi. 7. c2 28 observance of equity; by regard to the ancient usages of the nation ; and, lastly, by respect for that sense of justice which has force among men, and which warns rulers that the excesses of uncontrolled power must at length be fatal to themselves. 3. After the Babylonian captivity, while the Jews were subject to Persia, their kingly government was extinct. When the reformation of the State had been accomplished by Ezra and Nehemiah, the chief conduct of affairs was committed to the high priests, and the pay- ment of tribute was the only token of subjection, Never probably did the Jews enjoy so long a course of prospe- rity as under the mild rule of Persia ; governed by their own magistrates, according to their own laws, and allowed to obserye their own forms of worship. Under their Egyptian and Syrian rulers they were less fortunate; but their forms of government underwent no material change, till Antiochus Epiphanes attempted to deprive them of every vestige of liberty. The princes of the Maceabaean family, who had rescued them from this oppressor, were allowed to unite in their own persons the regal and pontifical dignity. They were next made subject to the dominion of Rome, under which they experienced many changes of condition. Rome itself during this period was submitted to rule in different forms and to masters of various character; the effects of which variety would extend in some degree to the provinces. And whatever be the uniformity of the government at home, the fortune of distant provinces must necessarily be much influenced by the particular conduct of the individual who has been deputed to be their governor. In general, however, under the procurators, the Jews enjoyed a large measure of liberty. Except in a very few instances, no offence was given to their religious scruples: they worshipped in the 29 temple and in their synagogues, followed their own cus- toms, and lived according to their own laws. The procu- rators dwelt principally at Csesarea, but on the great festivals or when any commotion was apprehended, they repaired to Jerusalem that they might maintain order. It was their duty to collect the imperial revenue, and to repress tumults; they also took cognizance of all capital causes. For the purpose of supporting their authority, a considerable Roman garrison was always stationed in the province. These were the chief circumstances in which the presence of foreign power was felt, and the Jews reminded of their loss of independence. Courts of 4. Moses delivered a multiplicity of laws judicature. which were so sacred as to be unalterable; nothing was to be added to the word which had been commanded, nor aught diminished from it: but he did not prescribe as unalterable any order of judges or courts of judicature by which the law was to be ad- ministered. He seems to have left to the people a dis- cretionary power of altering these, and adapting them to the varying circumstances of the nation. We are left therefore to form our opinion upon the constitution of the Jewish magistracy and courts of justice from facts incidentally mentioned, rather than from any de- tailed description of them given either in the Holy Scrip- tures, or by any writer of sufficient authority. Moses himself was for some time the sole judge of the Israelites. But the duty was greater than he was able to perform; and therefore at the suggestion of Jethro his father-in-law, they did not fall under our Saviour's notice. Their number also was small : Philo says that there were about 4000 of them in Syria and Palestine. It is supposed that they had their origin in the time of Antiochus Epiphanes, by whose tyranny great numbers of the Jews were driven into the wilderness, and became inured to a temperate and laborious mode of life. Philo divides them into two classes, the practical, who lived in Judaea and Syria, and the contemplative, who were dis- persed through many parts of the world, but were most numerous in Egypt. The practical Essenes did not alto- gether abandon the society of the rest of mankind, and in some respects were less rigid than the contemplative; sub- stantially, however, their maxims were the same. They believed in the immortality of the soul, and held the Scrip- tures in the highest reverence, but considered them as mystic writings and expounded them allegorically. It does not appear that they placed any reliance upon tradition. They sent gifts to the temple, but offered no sacrifices. They held the doctrine of absolute predestination, not allowing that man has freedom of will in any of his actions. In the regulations of their society they observed the greatest strictness. None gained full admission among them till after a probation of three years. In their mode of living they were extremely temperate ; they attended to no secular occupation except agriculture, and held all things in common. All were considered equal; yet great order was maintained among them, by means of the voluntary respect which they paid to the elders. 39 Although no express mention is made of this sect in the New Testament,, it is supposed that they are alluded to both by our Saviour and St. Paul 1 . If this supposition be correct, they are spoken of, by the apostle at least, with disapprobation. It is clear indeed, even from the favourable description of them given by Josephus and Philo, that they were led into many superstitious usages, and indulged in fanciful and enthusiastic speculations. It is remarked by Prideaux that almost all their peculiar tenets are condemned by the spirit of Christi- anity 11 . Such were their "voluntary humility" and " neglecting the body/' their superstitious washings, their abstinence from meats which God created for man's use, and other like usages which God never required of them. And, in maintaining that men are bound down in all their actions by irresistible fate and necessity, they destroyed the very foundations of religion and virtue. 4. These are the three sects into which the Jews were divided. There were among them other classes of men not distinguished by peculiar religious tenets, but either professional, as the scribes and publicans, or political, as the Herodians and Galileans. Scribes, doctors of the law, and lawyers, appear to have been different names for the same class of persons. The scribes are mentioned very early in the Sacred History l . Their occupation originally was to tran- scribe copies of the law, as their name imports ; but, from the knowledge thus acquired, they soon became in- structors of the people, and were made judges in their sanhedrims, or teachers in their schools and synagogues. Most of them were attached to the sect of the Phari- 1 Matt. xix. 12. Col. ii. 18— 2a. * Prideaux, Part II. Book 5. J % Sam. viii. 17. V2 40 sees, for they were the authors of those numberless com- ments and opinions which the Pharisees received as tra- ditions transmitted by Moses ; and the learning and skill of the scribes were chiefly exercised in explaining the oral law which they had themselves fabricated. 5. The publicans were employed by the Romans to collect the taxes and customs. The Roman publicans are mentioned by Cicero as being the flower of the equestrian order m ; but those were probably men who farmed the revenues of whole provinces, and certainly very different from the class so often introduced under the title of publicans in the New Testament. These were inferior agents, generally Jews of low condition, whose office was accounted disreputable. The people bore with extreme impatience the taxes imposed by the Romans, and there- fore all who were engaged in collecting them were viewed with hatred, especially their own countrymen, whom they regarded as traitors that were conspiring with the Romans to enslave their nation. And this feeling was aggravated by the extortions practised, and by the rigorous manner in which the taxes were usually exacted. Hence the whole body was held in detestation, insomuch that the Pharisees imputed it as a great crime to our Saviour that he sat at meat with . Publicans, whom they themselves avoided with abhorrence. ' ,. 6. Respecting the Herodians, whom we find HcvodicLiis mentioned in the gospels as having gone with the Pharisees to ensnare Christ 11 , we have no means of determining by what peculiar opinions they were distin-^ guished. Some have thought that they were so called because they believed Herod to be the Messiah; others, with more probability, that they were a set of men attached » Orat. pro. Plancio. n Matt. xxii. 16. Mark xii. 13. 41 to the family of Herod, and followers of his policy. It is probable that like him they advocated submission to the Romans, by whose support Herod was made and continued king, and also were inclined to conform to the Roman customs and the forms of heathen worship in particulars which the Jewish law would not allow. It is further probable that they were chiefly of the sect of the Sadducees, since that which is called in one gospel the leaven of the Sadducees, is called in another the leaven of Herod . 7- The Galilaeans were a political faction Galilceans. , . . _ . . . , ., which had its origin at the time when Cyrenius, after the expulsion of Arehelaus, first laid a tax upon Judaea. They were distinguished by an extreme zeal for liberty, but in all their principles they accorded entirely with the Pharisees. Their chief was one Judas of Galilee who laboured to excite the people to rebellion, alleging that submission to the tax would be an acknowledgement of slavery and inconsistent with their duty to God, who was their only sovereign. Topics of this sort operated upon the Jews with peculiar force at this time, when their expectation of a Messiah, or triumphant deliverer, inspired them with disdain as well as hatred of the Roman yoke. Judas perished, and his followers were for a time dispersed p.* but he may be considered as one of the earliest and chief movers of that spirit of turbulence which became general among the people and was not extinguished till it had wrought the ruin of the Jewish nation. _ 8. Frequent mention is made in the New Proselytes. ^ ^ lestament 01 proselytes, lnese were Gentiles who embraced the Jewish religion either in whole or in e Matt. xvi. 6. Mark viii. 15. P Acts v. 36. d3 42 part; for they are usually divided into two sorts, Pro- selytes of the gate, and Proselytes of righteousness. The former were permitted by the Jews to live within their gates, without being bound to the whole law, but only to comply with the seven precepts, which, as the Jewish writers pretend, God gave to Adam and afterwards to Noah, who transmitted them to posterity. These precepts were (1) To abstain from idolatry; (2) from blasphemy; (3) from murder; (4) from adultery; (5) from theft; (6) to appoint upright judges ; (7) not to eat the flesh cut off from any animal while it retained life. They were allowed to worship in the temple, but were forbidden to enter farther than into the outer court, which was called the court of the Gentiles. It does not appear that any ceremony was performed on the admission of Proselytes of this order. The Proselytes of righteousness, or, as they are sometimes called, Proselytes of the covenant, undertook the observance of the whole law, and were initiated with three ceremonies, circumcision, baptism, and a sacrifice: after which they were admitted as adopted children to all the ceremonies and religious privileges used by the Jews. But though they were thus adopted, and though great zeal was shewn, especially by the Pharisees, in making proselytes, yet they were consi- dered inferior to those who were Jews by birth and descent, were admitted to no office, and were treated in general with great contempt. It must be added that this distinction of the prose- lytes into two classes rests upon the authority of ancient Jewish writers, but in the Scriptures there does not appear to be any foundation for it. Hence, some are of opinion that proselytes were those, and those only, who took upon themselves the obligation of the whole 43 Mosaic law. Gentiles were allowed to worship in the outer court of the temple, and some of them probably renounced idolatry without embracing the Mosaic law; but such persons do not appear to be called proselytes, in Scripture or in any ancient Christian writer q . q Lardner, vol. VI. p. 522. Tomline, vol. I. p. 266. CHAPTER IV. ON THE JEWISH PRIESTHOOD. 1. It has been already stated that when the pro- mised land was divided among the tribes, no allotment was made to the tribe of Levi, because the Levites were appointed to the service of religion, and a peculiar kind of provision was made for them. In the earliest times the priesthood appears to have belonged to the first-born of every family ; and when God smote all the first-born of the Egyptians but spared those of the Israelites, he was pleased to ordain that for the future all the first-born males should be set apart unto himself, that the memory of the miracle and of their deliverance from bondage might thereby be preserved. But when the tribe of Levi on a remarkable occasion discovered great zeal against idolatry, he appointed that whole tribe, instead of the first-born of Israel, to the honour of attending his immediate service a . On their first institution in the wilderness, their chief duty consisted in taking down the tabernacle, carrying it about with all the instruments and sacred vessels belonging to it as the Israelites removed from place to place, and setting it up again when they pitched their tents. But when the Israelites were settled in Canaan, and the tabernacle was no longer carried about as before, the service of the Levites was a Exod. xxxii. 26. 45 changed,, and required less bodily labour. On which account, from the time of David, they entered on the discharge of their duty at an earlier age, and continued in it later, than according to the original appointment of Moses. They were from the beginning divided into three classes, Gershonites, Kohathites, and Merarites, so called from Gershon, Kohath and Merari who were the sons of Levi. Each of these classes had its peculiar duties. When David had fixed the tabernacle at Jeru- salem, he added several regulations respecting their different employments, and made a new division of them. The tribe was numbered by his order, and (without including the priests) was found to contain 38,000 men, from the age of 30 years and upwards 6000 of these were made officers and judges. The rest were divided into three equal classes. To one class (containing 54,000) he assigned the duty of assisting the priests by preparing flour, wine and oil for the sacrifice, and other services of that kind ; the second class (containing 4000) had to perform the music prescribed in the divine service ; and the third (containing 4000) had to keep a constant guard about the temple. Each of these classes was divided into 24 courses, which in successive weeks attended to the duty. While one course was attending to the service of the temple, the rest were dispersed among the tribes, in the 48 cities which were allotted for their residence. They were then occupied in teaching the people, and explaining to them the law : they also kept the public records and the genealogies of the several tribes. Those who were on duty at the temple had Nethinim. * . J under them some persons called Nethinim, that b 1 Chron. xxiii. 3. 46 is, given ; because they were given to them as servants. Their business was to carry the water and wood, and what- ever else was wanted in the temple. The Gibeonites were at first employed in this work, as a punishment for the artifice by which they obtained a league of peace with the Israelites ; and those who in subsequent times continued to be condemned to this servitude were probably the descendants of these, along with some of the captives from other nations. 2. The priests, who were to be taken from a Pvicsts particular family of the tribe of Levi, viz. that of Aaron, were appointed to an office more sacred and of higher dignity than the common Levites. They also were divided into 24 courses, which performed the divine service weekly by turns. Each of them had a president; and it is probable that these presidents were the same as the chief priests so often mentioned in the New Testa- ment. The order in which the courses were to serve was determined by lot; and each course was, in all succeeding ages, called by the name of him who was its president at the time of the first division. Thus Zacha- rias is said by St. Luke to be of the course of Abia, because Abia was president of the course in the time of David. The whole number of Priests in David's time was probably about 5000, but when Josephus wrote, there were not less than four times that number d . Since the law enjoined that they should belong to a particular family, all who aspired to the office were required to establish their descent from that family; on which account the genealogies of the priests were inscribed in the public registers and preserved in the temple. It was necessary also, before they were admitted to the office, that they & Josh, ix, d Jos. contr. Ap. cap. 2. ' 47 should be declared free from bodily blemish, and be purified from any legal pollutions which they might have contracted. Celibacy was not enjoined upon any of the sacerdotal order, but the law respecting marriage was in some particulars more strict to them than to the common people. The duties which they had to perform were of great variety, and were assigned by lot four times every day to those whose turn it was to be in attendance. It was their business to serve immediately at the altar and offer the sacrifices; to guard the inner part of the temple; to light the lamps in the sanctuary ; to burn the incense ; to keep a continual fire upon the altar of burnt-offerings, and to offer the loaves of shew-bread, which were changed every sabbath. Other important parts of the priestly office were : to preserve the volumes of the law, and pronounce a blessing on the people in the name of God; to instruct the people; to judge of controversies, of leprosy and other pollutions, and of the fitness or unfitness of victims ; to fix the price of redemption for the persons and things that were devoted to God; to proclaim the sabbath and solemn feasts; to call assemblies, and in war to animate the people. These and other duties were assigned to them and specified with great minuteness. 3. There were among them several degrees High Priest. „ ,. . - , , ,- • * i i of distinction and subordination. At the head was the high priest, who had great authority, being ac- counted next in rank to the king or prince, and sometimes uniting the regal and pontifical dignities in his own person. After the institution of the Sanhedrim, he was generally the president of it. Aaron was the first person appointed to the high priesthood. From him it passed to Eleazar his eldest son, whose descendants held it through several 48 successions till the time of Eli, who was of the family of Ithamar, Aaron's second son, and was the first in that line who was made high priest. In the reign of Solomon, it returned into the family of Eleazar in the person of Zadok, and remained in it until the Babylonian captivity. During this period the high priest was usually elected by the other priests, or by an assembly consisting chiefly of priests; but sometimes by the king. Thus Zadok was appointed by Solomon in the room of Abiathar, whom Solomon had deposed 6 . After the captivity, they were generally appointed by the kings of the countries to which Judaea was subject. According to law, the office was held for life. But under the Roman govern- ment this was disregarded, and the dignity and authority of the high priest were greatly reduced. The office was now frequently transferred from one to another according to the caprice or interest of those who held the supreme power, and was given or sold to young, illiterate, and obscure persons, sometimes even to men who were not of the sacerdotal race. Very different from this was the care taken in earlier times to support the honour of this sacred office. According to the Law of Moses, if any one, not of the family of Aaron, attempted to execute the duties of the high priest, he was put to ddath. It was necessary also that he should be of an honourable family, and that he himself should be perfectly without blemish. The strictest injunctions were given by Moses with regard to the purity both of him and of his family. He was consecrated, on his institution to the office, with a solemnity suited to his sacred character. (1) He was presented to the Lord at the door of the tabernacle, in the presence of all the people: (2) he was purified e 1 Kirres ii- 35. 49 with water; (3) he was invested with the pontifical garments, which were of great splendour, and different from those of the other priests; (4) he offered various sacrifices; lastly, he was anointed with the sacred oil, the composition of which was prescribed by God, and was not to be used for any other purpose. These ceremonies were repeated seven days successively. The other priests and even the common Levites were also consecrated, on their admission to office, with particular ceremonies. The Levites were distinguished from the rest of the Israelites by a robe of white linen ; but all ranks of the sacerdotal order put off the vestments peculiar to them, when they were not engaged in the divine service. The high priest could perform any of the functions of the other priests, but that which peculiarly pertained to him was to make expiation for the people ; which he did once a year with great solemnity in the Holy of Holies. It was also granted to him alone to consult the oracle of God in the sanctuary; but in the second temple this mode of declaring the divine will was discontinued. When he was incapable of attending the service through sickness or any legal pollution, a deputy called Sagan was appointed to supply his place. Some think that the office of the Sagan was not occasional but permanent, and that it was his business to assist the high priest generally, in superintending the service and the affairs of the temple. The title of high priest seems to have been sometimes given to this officer; which will explain an expression of St. Luke who mentions Annas and Caiaphas as being high priests at the same time f . Annas was probably the Sagan. It is probable also that when the office was f Luke iii. 2. E 50 transferred from one to another, those who had once held it retained the title after they had resigned the power. The Jewish writers mention other sorts of sacerdotal officers superior to common priests, but inferior to the high priest and Sagan. It was the business of the priest of the camp to exhort the army. There were two, called Catholics, who were assistants or substitutes for the Sagan, and were next to him in station and honour ; and seven, who kept the keys of the court of the priests. To others were committed the sacred vessels and vestments, the treasures of the temple, and the revenues arising from the oblations : regulations of this sort being absolutely neces- sary in a service of such great length and variety. Mention is made of another sort of ecclesiastical persons called stationary men : these were chosen out of the several tribes as representatives to attend at the sacrifices offered for all Israel ,* the Law requiring that the persons for w T hom sacrifices were offered should be present at the offering. But it being impossible that all the people should be present, representatives were chosen for the whole body, who were divided, like the priests and Levites, into twenty-four courses, and attended by rotation. 4. As the tribe of Levi was to be interspersed among the other tribes, and was prevented by an express law from having any share in the division of the country, it remains to be stated in what places they dwelt, and what provision was made for their subsistence. Forty-eight cities, with their suburbs, were assigned to them : of which thirteen belonged to the priests and were all situated near Jerusalem, one belonging to the tribe of Simeon, four to Benjamin, and eight to Judah. Some of the cities of the Levites were fixed among each of the other tribes, in order that being dispersed they might more conveniently perform the duties to which they were 51 appointed. Around the cities a small portion of land was given them for gardens, fields and vineyards, from the produce of which arose part of their subsistence, when they were not attending at the temple: but their chief support was derived from the tithes which the Law allotted to them; — a tenth of all the vegetable produce of the earth and also of the cattle. The Levites collected these tithes and gave a tenth of them to the priests. There were many other sources of revenue for the sup- port of the national worship. The first-born of living creatures and the first-fruits of all kinds of corn and fruit were consecrated to God. A price of redemption was paid for the first-born of men and of unclean animals. To the priests were assigned also certain parts of many of the victims that were offered in sacrifice. It must be remarked, however, that some portion of the payments above-mentioned was applied not directly as a provision for the priests and Levites, but for the building, the ornaments, and other public expences of the temple. Nor can it be doubted, that the revenues prescribed by the divine Law were adequate both to support the dig- nity of the service, and to relieve its ministers from all secular employment, that they might devote themselves wholly to the discharge of their sacred duties. Of the cities assigned to the Levites, three on each side of Jordan were appointed to be cities of refuge for those who had committed involuntary homicide. When a person who had caused the death of another fled to one of these, the judges proceeded to examine whether the act had been committed designedly or not. If designedly, he was condemned to death; if not, he remained in the city of refuge till the death of the high priest, when he was at liberty to return home. 5. These regulations with regard to the tribe of e2 52 Levi afford a striking proof of the divine wisdom of their author, and certainly have no parallel in any system of heathen legislation. It is true, soothsayers and diviners and ministers of religion were found in every State; but they attempted nothing beyond the performance of religious ceremonies, or employing the influence which their sacred functions gave them to promote private gain or the schemes of political parties : to instruct the people, they seem not to have considered any part of their duty. But the Jewish legislator set apart the entire tribe of Levi, one-twelfth of the nation, not merely to perform the rites and sacrifices which the ritual enjoined, but to diffuse among the people religious and moral instruc- tion. For this purpose the peculiar situation and privileges of the tribe of Levi admirably fitted them. Possessing no landed property, but supported by tithes and offerings, they were little occupied with labour or secular care: they were also deeply interested in the support of the worship and laws of God, since if these were neglected, the sources of their maintenance would necessarily fail. Their cities being dispersed through all the tribes, they were every where at hand to admonish and instruct : exclusively possessed of all religious offices, taking a large part in the administration of justice, and guardians of the cities of refuge to which those who were guilty of homicide fled for an asylum,, they must have acquired such influence as could not fail to secure attention to their instructions. Thus circumstanced, they were assuredly well calculated to answer the purpose of their institution, to preserve the union of all the other tribes, and to promote their improvement in knowledge, virtue, and piety. Considering indeed the rank of the priests and Levites, as ministers of religion, as the men of best understanding and knowledge in the laws, as of 53 great interest in the nation, and influence in the adminis- tration of justice, an apprehension might arise that the power committed to them was too great to be possessed by a single tribe. But this danger was effectually guarded against by the manner in which they were dispersed among the other tribes. They were so separated from one another, that they could not prosecute in concert any ambitious design: and it was in the power of the people, on suspicion of any ill designs of the Levites, to put a stop to their means of subsistence, and seize on all their persons at once. Hence, whatever power the Constitution gave them to do good, the same carefully provided to put it out of their power to do harm, either in disturbing the peace or endangering the liberties of their country g . * Graves, Vol. I. p. 294. Lowman, ch. vi. e3 CHAPTER V. ON THE JEWISH SACRIFICES. It cannot be determined with certainty that sacrifice was offered originally by the command of God ; this being a point on which the Scriptures are silent. But that it was so, may reasonably he inferred from the strong attestation which God gave of his acceptance of sacrifice in the case of Abel, again in that of Noah, afterwards in that of Abraham, and above all, from the systematic establishment of it by divine authority in the dispensation of Moses. We are warranted by Scripture in concluding that the sacrifices prescribed in the Mosaic law, were ordained by God as a type of the sacrifice of Christ a ; this being a true and effective sacrifice, whilst those of the law were but faint representations intended for its introduction. It is probable, therefore, that the rite was at the beginning ordained by God, as a type of that great sacrifice in which all others were to have their consummation b . The object of the Mosaic sacrifices was principally typical ; but the institution of them compre- hended other excellent uses, besides that for which we have authority to believe that they were principally designed. It is not however intended to treat, in this chapter, of the origin or design of sacrifice; — subjects which admit * Heb. ix. and x, b Magee, Vol. I. p. 46. 55 of much discussion ; but to give a brief account of the principal offerings and sacrifices prescribed by Moses, what they were and on what occasions presented. They may be classed under two general heads, bloody offerings, or sacrifices strictly so called; and unbloody offerings, as of corn, wine, and perfumes. 1. Bloody offerings were subdivided into three sorts: (1) whole burnt-offerings, (2) sin or trespass- offerings, (3) peace-offerings. A whole burnt-offering, was the most excellent of all the sacrifices, since it was all consecrated to God, the victim being wholly consumed upon the altar; whereas some parts of the others belonged to the priests, and to those who offered the victims. Of this kind was the daily sacrifice : four lambs, all of the first year, were offered every day, two in the morning, and two in the evening. The whole burnt-offering seems to have been the most ancient kind of sacrifice, since we find that it was offered by Noah, Abraham, and other patriarchs . It is not stated in the Bible what was the peculiar design of it: but as we are taught by St. Paul that the sacrifices under the law were typical of the great sacrifice of Christ, the whole burnt- offering appears to be a type particularly expressive, since nothing less than the full and perfect sacrifice of the Son of God could atone for the sins of the world. Between sin-offerings and trespass-offerings, there seems to have been little difference. Some suppose that sin-offerings were for acts which were admitted to be against the law, but had been done undesignedly; and that trespass-offerings were for acts respecting which there was reason to doubt whether they were sinful or c Gen. viii. 10. and xxii. 13. Job i. 5. 56 not. Others think that sin-offerings were made for sins of commission ; and trespass-offerings for sins of omission d . In both of them, the person who offered the sacrifice placed his hands on the victim's head, and confessed his sin or trespass over it, saying, " I have sinned, I have trespassed, and do return,, by repentance before thee, and with this I make atonement." The victim was then considered as bearing the sins of the person by whom it was offered, who received forgiveness from God upon condition of repentance, without which there could be no remission. The appointed occasions for these offerings were not only for acts of sin or trespass, but also on account of certain legal pollutions, as at the purification of a leper, of a woman after child- birth, and others which the law specified. There were also sin-offerings of a more solemn nature offered on extraordinary occasions, not on the altar but without the camp. Such was the sacrifice of the red heifer, whose ashes mixed with water, served to purify those who had been polluted by touching a dead body e . The heifer was to be carried out of the camp, where the high priest killed it, and sprinkled of the blood seven times towards the sanctuary: it was then burnt, and the ashes were gathered and laid up for use. Whoever had touched a dead body was to be sprinkled with water, with which some of these ashes had been mixed. As Jerusalem became afterwards to the Jews, what the camp had been during their abode in the wilderness, those victims which were ordered to be burnt without the camp, were, after the building of the temple, to be burnt beyond the walls of the city. Wherefore Jesus d Mich, on the Laws of Moses, Art. 187. e Numb. xix. 57 also,, says the Apostle, suffered without the gate, that he might sanctify the people with his own blood f . Peace-offerings were so called, because they were offered in token of peace between God and man. Whole burnt-offerings and sin or trespass-offerings were made under the notion of some guilt having been contracted, which they were the means of removing ; but in peace- offerings, the offerer was supposed to be at peace with God, and they were made either as an acknowledgement for mercies received, or as joined with supplication for further blessings. With respect to all the three kinds of sacrifices, it may be observed that there were only five sorts of animals which could be offered, viz. oxen, sheep, goats ; and among birds, pigeons and turtle-doves. In the selection of victims, the utmost care was taken to choose such as were free from blemish. Sacrifices at first were offered at the door of the tabernacle; but after the temple was built, it was unlawful to sacrifice any where but in it, except in one or two specified cases g : (It seems however that this command was frequently transgressed, even under the best of the Jewish kings h .) The law required that all the victims should be sprinkled with salt before they were laid on the altar, and that the priest should sprinkle the blood upon the altar, which was the most essential part of the sacrifice; for the blood is the life, and by the sprinkling of it the atonement was made. In common sin-offerings and in peace-offerings the fat alone was burnt: in sin-offerings all the flesh belonged to the priest; in peace-offerings the f Heb. xiii. 12. « Deut. xii. 3— -14. Levit. xiv. 49. Deut. xxi. Numb. xix. 2. h 1 Kings xxii. 43. 2 Kings xii. 3. xiv. 4. xv. 4. Mich. Art. 188. 58 breast and right- shoulder belonged to the priest, and the rest to the person who made the offering. 2. Unbloody offerings, which are called in the Bible meal-offerings, consisted of meal, bread, cakes, ears of corn, and parched grain, accompanied with libations of wine and sometimes mixed with oil and frankincense. They were offered along with the bloody sacrifices; a certain quantity of flour, wine, and oil, being presented with every animal that was sacrificed. The wine was partly poured upon the brow of the victim to consecrate it, and part of it was allotted to the priests. Some of these offerings were also presented singly and apart, as (1) those which were offered as sin-offerings by the poor, whose means were not sufficient to provide two turtle- doves or two young pigeons; (2) incense, consisting of several spices which are specified in the law 1 : this was offered in the sanctuary every morning and evening by the priests, and once a year by the high priest in the Holy of Holies ; (3) the shew-bread, twelve loaves of which were placed every sabbath on the golden table in the sanctuary ; (4) the sheaf of the first-fruits of the harvest, offered at the celebration of the passover ; (5) two loaves of leavened bread offered at the feast of pentecost. Various oblations which the law prescribed may be classed under the head of unbloody offerings. The firsts fruits of corn, wine, and oil, were consecrated to God for the use of the priests. They had also the first of the fleece of sheep k . The Law did not fix the quantity of these first-fruits: the liberal gave a fortieth and even a thirtieth, others a sixtieth part. After the first-fruits were offered, every one paid the tenth of his produce to the Levites, who gave a tenth of what they received to Exod. xxx. 34. k Deut. xviii. 4. 59 the priests. Besides this tithe which the people paid to the Levites, they set apart another tenth., which was carried to Jerusalem and consumed with festivity in the temple, as a token of thankfulness to God. To these feasts they were required to invite the Levites, widows, orphans, strangers, the poor, and their own servants, and thus give them a day of rejoicing. But every third year, instead of carrying this tithe to Jerusalem, the owner kept the feast at home, in order that such of the poor as were aged and infirm might not be wholly excluded from this feast of thanksgiving. The laws relative to sacrifices and offerings Synagogues. ... _ _ _, . . . were delivered by Moses with great minute- ness, and in the observance of them consisted the national worship of the Jews. If it should be thought that the mul- tiplicity of them must have formed a system exceedingly burdensome to the people, let it be remembered that it was administered by a body of men set apart for the duty, and that it was a ritual of national, not of personal worship, limited to one temple and one altar at the place which God had chosen. It was not established in towns and cities throughout the land, and therefore could not be designed to be a system of individual or of family devotion for the whole Jewish people. In regard to this, it is necessary to make a distinction between the worship in the temple and that which was performed in the synagogues. These were instituted at a much later period, and probably originated in the. public reading of the Law after the sacred writings had been collected by Ezra. Conscious that the calamities which had be- fallen the people arose from their wickedness, and that this was greatly owing to their ignorance of the Scrip- tures, they were led to the institution of synagogues, one 60 in every place where there were ten persons of sufficient age and leisure,, that the people might meet for prayer, and hear the Scriptures read and explained. The syna- gogues were opened three days in the week, and thrice on each of those days. The Pentateuch was divided into sections, and the reading of them so arranged that the whole was finished at the end of the year. The other sacred writings were not all read, but at every meeting such parts were selected as had relation to what had been previously read from the books of Moses. The ministration of this service was ,not confined to the sacerdotal order, but was committed to any one of com- petent learning. But, that order might be preserved, elders were appointed in every synagogue, who were solemnly admitted to their office by the imposition of hands. In the New Testament these are called rulers of the synagogue. Next to them was the minister, whose office it was to offer up public prayers to God for the congregation. There were other inferior minis- ters, who had the care of the sacred books, and of the building and all things belonging to it. The service consisted of prayers, reading and expounding the Scrip- tures, and preaching. For the prayers they had public liturgies. When the time came for reading the Scriptures, the rulers of the synagogue called out some one to officiate; a priest first, and then a Levite, if such were present, and then any other of the people, till the number seven was completed. Hence every section of the law Was divided into seven parts, each reader having his assigned portion. As Hebrew had ceased to be the com- mon language, an interpreter was appointed, whose duty consisted in interpreting the lessons into Chaldee, as they were read to the congregation in Hebrew. It does not appear that any fixed ministers were appointed for ex- 61 pounding the Scriptures and for preaching : this duty was done by the scribes or any learned men, authorized by the rulers of the synagogue without any permanent appointment. It is remarkable that after the Babylonian captivity the Jews were strongly averse to idolatry, though they had been very prone to it before that event : the probable reason of which appears to be that after the captivity a greater knowledge of the Holy Scriptures was diffused among them by means of the institutions above-mentioned. While they had no places for public worship or instruc- tion, except the temple at Jerusalem or the cities of the Levites, the laws of God were imperfectly known, and on that account the people were easily misled to adopt the usages of neighbouring nations. But when in every city synagogues were erected in which the Holy Scriptures were read, and the people regularly instructed in their duty and exhorted to the performance of it, an abiding dread of God's displeasure was impressed upon their minds, and the seductions of idolatry were opposed by an effectual barrier 1 . Graves, Vol. I. p. 328. Prideaux, Part I. Book 6. CHAPTER VI. ON THE JEWISH FESTIVALS. 1. The year was distinguished by the Jews into the civil and the ecclesiastical year. The civil year began with the month Tisri, about the middle of our September ; there being an ancient tradition among them that the world was created at that time. All contracts were dated and the Jubilees computed according to this year. The ecclesiastical year began with the month Nisan or Abib, about the middle of our March; that being the time of the year when the Israelites came out of Egypt. The beginnings of their months were not determined by astronomical rules, but by the phasis or actual appear- ance of the new moon; and their ordinary year consisted of twelve of these lunar months. But since the sum of them fell short of the solar year by eleven days,, it was necessary to intercalate an additional month in the third year, or sometimes in the second, in order that their months, and consequently their festivals, might always fall nearly at the same season. It has not been ascer- tained with certainty what rule they had for determining which new moon should mark the beginning of the year ; but, whatever the rule was, they could not make their festivals always fall exactly at the same season, according to their method of reckoning by lunar months. The Jews had two sorts of weeks, the ordinary one of seven days, and another of seven years which occurs in the prophetic writings and is called a week of years. 63 Their days were also distinguished into natural, reckoned from one sun-set to another; and artificial or civil, reckoned from the rising to the setting of the sun. The civil day was divided into four parts, each of which consisted of three hours, and therefore, since one of these hours was a twelfth part of the time which the sun continued above the horizon, their hours in summer were longer than in winter. The night was also divided into four parts called watches, each consisting of three hours. The first began at sun-set and was called the beginning of the watches or the evening; the second was called the middle watch or midnight; the third the cock-crowing ; the fourth the morning 7vatch. 2. The Jewish Sabbath began at sun-set in the evening of Friday, and ended the next day at the same time. It was a festival instituted by God in memory of the creation of the world, and also as a day of rest for men and their cattle, that they might not be exhausted by uninterrupted labour. In the first view, it was calculated to prevent idolatry and the worshipping of creatures, by setting one day apart for the service of the one true God, the Creator of all things. As a day of rest, it was observed with the utmost strictness : they were forbidden to gather the manna which had fallen from heaven, to kindle a fire, and to sow or reap a . It was commanded that " no man should go out of his place on the sabbath- day b ;" that is, according to the interpretation given by the Jewish doctors, that no man should go above 2000 cubits (about two -thirds of a mile) ; which in Scripture is called a sabbath-day's journey. Many regulations were introduced for which tkere was no authority in the laws of Moses. They were taught that it was not lawful to a Exod. xvi. 22. xxxv. 3. xxxiv. 21. b Exod. xvi. 29. f2 64 fight, even in self-defence, on that day. For this notion they suffered severely in the time of Antiochus Epiphanes, and afterwards from Pompey, who taking advantage of their superstition carried forward his works against the city on the sabbath without opposition. Our Saviour taught us the true meaning of the Law of God concerning rest on the sabbath, when he said (e The sabbath was made for man, and not man for the sabbath;" that is, it was intended for man's benefit, for his rest and religious improvement, and not as a yoke of bondage restraining him from works of necessity or mercy. The law enjoined that the sabbath-day should be kept holy. It is not stated in what way, further than by cessation from labour, this should be done, except that a sacrifice of two lambs was to be offered on that day in addition to the morning and evening sacrifices. But reason alone taught men that God having reserved this one day for his service, it ought to be spent in religious exercises and meditation. That the command was understood in this sense by the Jews of every age, may be inferred from various parts of the Sacred History c . The sabbatical year, which was every seventh year, was first celebrated by the Jews in the fourteenth year after their entrance into Canaan; seven years having been spent in conquering and dividing the country, and six in the cultivation of it. They were commanded by Moses to sow their fields and prune their vineyards, and gather the fruit thereof for six years successively, and to let the land rest on the seventh d . During the sabba- tical year there was a total cessation from agriculture, and the spontaneous products of the ground were enjoyed c 2 Kings iv. 23. Luke iv. 16. Acts xiii. 14. & xv. 21. Jennings* Jewish Antiquities, Book 3. ch. iii. d Levit. xxv. 3, 4. 65 in common, by the proprietor of the ground, his servants, the stranger that was sojourning with him, and the cattle. This then being a year of leisure, Moses com- manded the priests the sons of Levi and the elders of Israel, that in the solemnity of the year of release in the feast of tabernacles the Law should be read before all Israel in their hearing, that they might learn to fear the Lord their God, and observe to do all the words of his law e . The observance of this year further consisted in the remission of all debts from one Israelite to another ; and, according to some writers, in the release of all Hebrew servants; but it is more probable that masters were obliged to release their servants at the end of the seventh year, whether it happened to be the sabbatical year or not; unless they renounced their liberty, and made a formal declaration before the judges that they voluntarily embraced a continuance of servitude- As there was little produce from the land during the sabbatical year, it was necessary to make provision for it in the six preceding years, and God was pleased to promise that he would command his blessing upon the land in the sixth year, and that it should bring forth fruit for three years f . But the Jews frequently violated the laws regarding this institution, which was one among their national sins that caused them to be led into captivity, that the land might enjoy the sabbaths of which it had been defrauded. After they had been thus punished for their disobedience, they became scru- pulous in observing the law on this subject; but it does not appear that God renewed the extraordinary blessing which he first promised, and on that account the sabbatical year was always a year of scarcity. There- e Deut. xxxi. 10. ' Levit. xxv. 21. F3 66 fore when Christ told his disciples, Pray ye that your flight be not on the Sabbath, some have supposed him to allude to the sabbatical year, when sustenance could not easily be procured, and thence the necessity of quitting their habitations would be attended with aggra- vated suffering. The j ubilee was celebrated every fiftieth year, and was similar to the sabbatical year in many of its observances. Debts were cancelled, and slaves and prisoners set at liberty. Even those mentioned above as having submitted to a continuance of servitude, were yet made free at the jubilee; for then liberty was to be proclaimed throughout all the land to all the inhabitants^ Lands which had been sold returned to their original proprietors, so that an estate could not be alienated for more than fifty years, and therefore no family could be sunk in perpetual poverty. From this law, however, houses in walled towns were excepted : these were to be redeemed within a year, otherwise they belonged to the purchaser and could never be reclaimed. The effect of the institution of the jubilee was favourable to the poor, since it prevented perpetual slavery, and tended to pre- serve an equality of possessions. Being also a year of rest from labour, since all cultivation of the ground was forbidden, its commencement was proclaimed with public tokens of joy, and hailed, by the poor at least, with great delight. 3. Of the other Jewish festivals some were of divine, and others of human institution. The most solemn of those that had been instituted by God were the passover, the pentecost, and the feast of tabernacles ; each of which was to be celebrated every year at the place which the 8 Levit. xxv. 10. 67 Lord should choose, that is, at Jerusalem after the sanc- tuary had been fixed there; and all the Israelites were obliged to attend, unless they had good reason for being absent. Women were exempt from this obligation, and also, it may be presumed, children and old men; but Scripture is silent with regard to any fixed limitation of age. The passover derived its name from God's Passover. . _ passing over the houses of the Israelites, and sparing their first-born, when those of the Egyptians were put to death. The name of passover was given to the lamb slain in memory of that deliverance; and sometimes to the feast-day on which the paschal lamb was slain, or lastly, to the entire continuance of the festival, which commenced with the slaying of the lamb and continued for seven days. On the fourteenth day of the month Nisan, in the evening, the festival began with killing the lamb, which was to be a male of the first year, and without blemish. If one family was not large enough to eat the whole lamb, two or more were united. The victims were slain by persons belonging to these several families, and the blood was poured by the priests at the bottom of the altar. The fat was consumed on the altar, after which the lamb was returned to the person by whom it had been offered. It was to be roasted whole, without a bone being broken, and was to be eaten with unleavened bread and bitter herbs. None of it was to remain till the morning: if it were not all eaten, that which remained was consumed with fire* Those who were prevented by illness or by any legal pollution from celebrating the passover on the day appointed, were commanded to do it on the four- teenth day of the next month 11 . During the whole continuance of this festival it was not lawful to eat any Numb. ix. 11. 68 leavened bread, nor even to have it in their houses ; and on that account it is sometimes called in Scripture the feast of unleavened bread. In general the fifteenth day of the month (but in one or two places the fourteenth, in the evening of which the paschal lamb was killed) is called the first day of the feast 1 . On the sixteenth was offered the sheaf of the first-fruits of the barley-harvest, which in Judaea was usually ripe at that season. This was done in acknowledgement of the goodness of God e Mich. Art. 197. 75 riages took place, whereby the interests of families belonging to different tribes became intermixed, and thus the twelve petty States were united into one powerful people. Jeroboam was well aware of this, when he was appointed king of the ten tribes which had separated from the tribe of Judah. Sensible that the separation could not be permanent if the people continued to pay their annual visits to Jerusalem, he issued a prohibition of them, and, contrary to the law of Moses, appointed two places for divine service within his own territories. It may be further remarked of these festivals, and particularly of the sabbatical year and the jubilee, that in the very institution of them is implied a strong argument of their divine origin f . When all the Israelites were assembled, as they were three times every year, in Jerusalem, what defence was left in the country against foreign invasion? And when cultivation of the ground was forbidden every seventh year, whence were the people in that year to procure subsistence ? God had promised " that no man should desire their land when they should go up to appear before the Lord their God thrice in the year g ;" and it is remarkable that no such evil ever befel them on these occasions: he had also promised with regard to their subsistence that " he would command his blessing upon them in the sixth year, and that the land should bring forth fruit for three years V But no legislator would have ventured to propose such institutions, except in consequence of the fullest conviction, on the part both of himself and the people, that God had really so promised, and that they were under the pro- tection of his peculiar providence. * Graves, Vol. I. p. 170. e Exod. xxxiv. 24. k Lev. xxv. 21. G 2 CHAPTER VII. ON THE PLACES ACCOUNTED HOLY BY THE JEWS. From the earliest ages of the world, particular places have been appropriated to the exercise of religious worship. In ancient times it was usual to seek for that purpose the retirement of groves and mountains. Thus it is said of Abraham, when he dwelt at Beer-sheba, that he planted a grove there, and called upon the name of the everlasting God a . And it was upon one of the mountains in the land of Moriah, that God ordered him to offer in sacrifice his son Isaac. But when the worship of false gods had become prevalent among men, the solitude of such places was found to be favourable for the practice of dreadful crimes and impurities, with which idolatry has been ever associated. And the strong tendency which the Israelites had to adopt the idolatrous customs of heathen nations is amply testified in the sacred history. It is recorded of them that they set up images and groves in every high hill and under every green tree, and there burnt incense in all the high places, and wrought wickedness to provoke the Lord, as did the heathen b . It was with the view therefore of preserving them from idolatry that they were prohibited from ofFer- a Gen. xxi. 33. b 2 Kings xvii. 11. 77 ing worship in groves or in high places, and were commanded to make sacrifices and oblations in that place only which God should choose, 1. In the first year after the departure from Egypt, Moses received orders respecting the construction of the tabernacle. It was built in the form of an oblong, thirty cubits in length, and ten in height and breadth*. The interior of it was divided by a veil into two parts, one of which was called the Sanctuary or Holy Place, and the other the Holy of Holies. The sanctuary contained the table of shew-bread, the golden candlestick, and the altar of incense. The Holy of Holies contained the ark of the covenant. This ark was a small chest, in which were placed the two tables of stone, having the ten commandments engraven upon them by the finger of God. In the time of Solomon it contained nothing besides, but St. Paul seems to speak of it as containing also the golden pot that had manna and Aaron's rod that budded : probably the contents of it were not always the same ; or his expression may be interpreted to signify that those articles were near, not within the ark c . The lid of the ark was called the Mercy- Seat, at the extremities of which were two cherubim with their faces looking towards each other, and their wings expanded. It was between them that the cloud used to appear, which was a visible token of the shechinah or divine presence ; and hence God is frequently represented in Scripture as dwelling between the cherubim a . A court of one hundred cubits in length and fifty in breadth surrounded the tabernacle. In this court * A cubit was nearly equal to twenty-two inches. c Exod. xvi. 33. Numb. xvii. 10. 1 Kings viii. 9. Heb. ix. 4. a Psal. lxxx. 1, xcix. 1. g3 78 stood the altar for burnt-offerings, and the brazen laver in which the priests washed their hands and feet when- ever they were about to offer sacrifice or to enter the tabernacle. When Aaron presented his first burnt- sacrifice for himself and the people, the fire was kindled from heaven in token of acceptance, and God commanded that it should be kept continually burning on the altar, without ever going out 6 . The tabernacle was carried about by the Israelites in all their marches until they arrived at the land of Canaan. It was then fixed first at Gilgal, where it remained seven years, and afterwards in Shiloh. In the reign of David and at the beginning of Solomon's reign, it was at Gibeon in the tribe of Benjamin ; after which time the Scriptures are silent respecting it. The ark of the covenant had been separated from it at the time when Eli was judge, and was probably never replaced in it. Having been brought from the tabernacle into the camp, it was taken by the Philistines, and was afterwards removed from place to place till David prepared a tent for it at Jerusalem. Lastly, it was placed in the temple of Solomon and was probably consumed along with it, when Jerusalem was destroyed by Nebuchadnezzar f . 2. The temple was built by Solomon on Moriah, a part of mount Sion, which was the general name of a range of hills near Jerusalem. The plan of it was formed after that of the tabernacle, but it was of much larger dimensions. The temple itself, strictly so called, formed only a small part of the sacred building, for it was surrounded with spacious courts, making a square of half a mile in circumference. The first court, which encom- passed the temple and the other courts, was called the • Lev. vi. 13, t Home's Introduction, Part III. Chap. i. 79 Court of the Gentiles, because the Gentiles were allowed to come into it, but were prohibited from advancing further. It was surrounded with porticoes or cloisters ; the eastern side of which was called Solomon's Porch, because it stood upon a vast terrace which Solomon built up from the valley beneath, in order to enlarge the area on the top of the mount, and make it equal to his intended building. Within the court of the Gentiles on higher ground was the court of the women, so called because women were not allowed to proceed beyond it. From this there was an ascent to the inner or men's court, within which again was the court of the priests, separated from the former by a low wall, one cubit in height. This wall inclosed the altar for burnt- offerings, and to it the people brought their oblations and sacrifices, but the priests alone were allowed to enter the inclosure. From the court of the priests they ascended by twelve steps to the temple properly so called. This consisted of a portico, the sanctuary, and the Holy of Holies. The portico was adorned with several valuable offerings made by kings and princes, and with spoils and trophies taken in war. The sanctuary and Holy of Holies in the temple were furnished in the same manner as in the tabernacle. They were separated one from the other by a double veil, which is supposed to have been the veil that was rent during our Saviour's crucifixion. Into the Holy of Holies no person was ever admitted except the high priest, who entered it once a year on the great day of atonement. This temple, built by Solomon, retained its original magnificence only for a short period. During the reign of Rehoboam, Shishak king of Egypt carried away its treasures, and it was finally plundered and burnt by the king of Babylon. The second temple, built under the 80 direction of Zerubbabel, was greatly inferior to the first, as appears from the questions put by the prophet Haggai : " Who is left among you, that saw this house in its first glory? and how do you see it now? is it not in your eyes, in comparison of it, as nothing &?" It is said to have wanted five remarkable things which were the chief glory of the first temple, viz. the ark of the covenant, the shechinah, the holy fire on the altar which had been kindled from heaven, the urim and thummim *, and the spirit of prophecy. In the eighteenth year of his reign, Herod the Great undertook to repair this second temple or rather gradually to rebuild it, and vast labour was expended in adding to its magnitude and splendour. Josephus says, that he finished it in nine years, which must be understood of the main body of the building; for, long after Herod's death, the Jews continued to enlarge and adorn it, and the workmen were not dismissed till the time of Agrippa the younger, Herod's grandson, about sixty years after the birtfr of Christ. The Jews therefore might say to our Saviour with perfect truth that the temple was forty and six years in building, exactly so many having elapsed since Herod commenced the work. Tacitus says that it was a temple of immense opulence, and Josephus represents it as the most astonish- ing structure he had ever seen or heard of, as well on account of its architecture as its magnitude and likewise the richness of its various parts and the reputation of its 8 Haggai ii. 3. * These were contained in the breast-plate of the high priest, but no explanation respecting them is given in Scripture. The opinion most generally received is, that they were twelve precious stones on which were engraven the names of the twelve tribes of Israel, and that the oracle was delivered by causing such letters as formed the answer to shine with a superior lustre, or to appear prominent above the rest. See Jennings, Book I. Chap. v. Graves, vol. I. p. 318. ! 81 sanctity h . When the disciples of our Lord shewed him the grandeur of its buildings, he warned them of its approaching downfall, and not many years passed away before the foundations of it were ploughed up by the Roman soldiers. 3. Jerusalem is frequently called in the Scriptures the holy city, as being hallowed in a peculiar manner by the presence of God in the temple. It was formerly called Jebus from one of the sons of Canaan 1 , and some authors suppose, without any certain authority, that it was the ancient Salem, of which Melchizedek was king. After it had been taken by Joshua, it was inhabited both by Jews and Jebusites till the time of David; who, having driven the Jebusites out of it, greatly enlarged it, and built a palace there, in which he fixed his residence. On this account it is sometimes called the city of David. It was divided into the upper and the lower city : the upper (according to the general opinion) being towards the south on mount Sion, the lower to the North on the hill Acra. Eastward from Acra was the site of the temple; at one corner of which stood Fort Antonia, which overlooked the courts of the temple, and com- municated with them by passages, so that the Roman garrison could readily descend to quell any tumult which might arise during the festivals. The circumference of the city in the time of Josephus was thirty-three stadia, or nearly four miles and a half; and Hecataeus, who wrote about three centuries earlier, says, that the number of its inhabitants in his time was 120,000 k . The mount of Olives, from which Christ ascended to heaven, was on the east side of Jerusalem, fronting the h Tacit. Hist. Lib. V. c. viii. Jos. de Bell. Jud. Lib. VI. c. iv. 1 1 Chron. xi. 4. k Jos. contr, Ap. 82 temple, and was about a mile distant from it. The village Gethsemane was at the bottom of the mount; and on the further side were Bethphage and Bethany. Between the mount of Olives and Jerusalem there was a valley, through which ran the brook Kedron. Mount Calvary or Golgotha, the scene of our Saviour's crucifixion, was on the western side of the city at a short distance beyond the walls; to which the Apostle alludes when he says that "Jesus also suffered without the gate.' 9 4. All Judaea was accounted holy, as being the inheritance of God's chosen people, and specially appointed for the performance of his worship. In modern times also, it has obtained the name of the Holy Land, on account of its having been the abode of the lioly Patriarchs, Prophets, and Apostles, and consecrated above all by the presence and sufferings of Jesus Christ. Anciently it was called the land of Canaan, from Canaan, the youngest son of Ham, who settled here after the dispersion from Babel, and divided the country among his eleven children: and Palestine from the Philistines, who, having migrated from Egypt, settled on the borders of the Mediterranean and gave their name to the whole country, though they never possessed more than a small part of it. In Scripture it is frequently distinguished by other names, such as the Land of Promise, the Land of God, the Land of Israel. It is impossible to give, within the necessary limits of this work, any satisfactory description of the boundaries and provinces of Judaea, or of its numerous cities, and many circumstances pertaining to it which are worthy of notice: the few remarks therefore which follow, will relate merely to its general aspect and the produc- tiveness of its soil. It is described by Moses as " a good land, a land of 83 brooks of water, of fountains and depths, that spring out of valleys and hills; a land of wheat and barley, and vines, and fig-trees, and pomegranates, a land of oil-olive, and honey 1 ." It even exceeded the land of Egypt, so much celebrated for its fertility by ancient wrijters; especially in the number of cattle which it produced, and in the quantity and excellence of its wine, oil, and fruits. Those parts of it which in Scripture are called deserts or wildernesses were not desolate, as the words appear to imply: many of them, though unfit for tillage, were inhabited, and afforded pasturage for cattle. Some districts are mountainous and rocky, but the industry of the Jews, whose attention was occupied chiefly with agriculture, made the most barren places yield some kind of produce. The very rocks which now appear quite bare and naked, were made fruitful, being covered by the ancient proprietors with earth, which has been since washed away; and there were few spots in the whole land that were not improved, to the production of something or other ministering to the support of human life m . Besides therefore supporting its own great population, it was able to supply other countries with large quantities of corn and fruits 11 . Such is the description of the ancient fruitfulness of Judsea, given in the Scriptures, and also by many profane writers . Nor, even in its present decayed and neglected state, are indications wanting of its natural richness and fertility, sufficient to show that want of cultivation is the chief if not the only cause of the comparative poverty in which it is now seen. This poverty is not owing 1 Deut. viii. 7, 8. m Maundrell, p. 65. n 1 Sam. xxiv. 1 Kings v. 11. Acts xii. 20. Hecat. apud. Joseph, contr. Ap. Tacit. Hist. Lib. V. c. vie Plin. Lib. V. c. xiv, xv. 84 to the unfruitfulness of the soil,, but to the want of inhabitants,, and the aversion to industry in those few who possess it. Otherwise, were it as well , peopled and cultivated as in former times, it would still be capable of supplying its neighbours with corn and other products, as it did in the time of Solomon p . Its present state, so far from affording ground for calling in question the accounts of its fertility given in the sacred writings, confirms their authority ; for all these evils were predicted and denounced against the Israelites, if they should forsake the covenant which God made with their fathers when he brought them out of Egypt q . And the exact accomplishment of these prophecies verifies the declaration of the Psalmist, that God turneth a fruitful field into barrenness, for the wickedness of them that dwell therein r .