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FORTY-THIRD YEARLY EDITION.
ZADKIEL’S ALMANAC
FOR
1873$
CONTAINING
PREDICTIONS OF THE WEATHER;
VOICE OF THE STARS
NUMEROUS USEFUL TABLES;
WITH
A HIEROGLYPHIC;
THE
YEAR
BY ZADKIEL
PROSPERITY.
TAO SZE, &c.
EIGHTY-FIFTH THOUSAND.
LONDON:
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AND PUBLISHED, FOR THE AUTHOR, BY
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Equal for wear to sterling Silver. Manufactured, solely by
RICHARD and JOHN SLACK.
Side Dishes and Covers, £ 6 6s
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Cruet Frames, 18s. 6d. to 100s.
Tea & Coffee Sets, £3 10s.
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INK SOLVENT.
This preparation instantly removes Ink, Iron-mould and Fruit Stains, from *
all kinds of Linen, Paper, or the Skin, by merely wetting the Stains with the
Solvent. For removing Blots it is exceedingly convenient, as it obviates the
use of an erasing knife.—Is. per Bottle.
COLOGNE DENTIFRICE.
Prepared from the flowers from which Eau de Cologne is distilled. Inesti
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or obtained of any chymist or perfumer.
RIBBON OF BRUGES for Fumigation.
Draw out a piece of the • Ribbon, light it, blow out the flame, and as it
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EGG \ JULEP, or Nursery Hair Wash.
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tidence,
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�PREFACE
Again the returning Sun reminds me that it is time to begin
the “copy” for this Almanac. At th§ same time I have to thanl
my numerous friends for their extensive support of my efforts to
maintain Truth and to crush the folly of mankind. The great sale
of over 92,000 copies evinces the vast interest felt in Astrology, and
puts down for ever the absurd attempts to conceal those doctrinewhich were maintained by the great and good King David , who ex
claimed, in the 103rdT’salm, “Bless ye the Lard (Jehovah), all y<
his hosts, ye ministers of his that do his pleasure.”
Not a day goes by without furnishing freely evidence of the powe:
of the stars. Only now do I read of the assassination of th;
Governor General of India, who was stabbed twice in the back o:
the Sth of February this year, 1872. I turn to the Ephemeris fo
1822, on the 21st February, at which time he was born; and, lo!
find the Moon at noon that day in r« 28° 19', and the evil Mars i:
close opposition to her, from <7b 29° 14, in which sign, as all astrologer,
know, he rules the back. Hence was he stabbed in that part of tin
*
body.
But there was no kind of fatality in the matter. Had In
been educated aright, had he understood the fundamentals of astro
logy, he might, and. no doubt would, have escaped the fatal blow; fo
he would never have ventured into India, when a large solar eclips
was pending, on the 22nd December, 1870 ; with the Sun, Moon
Saturn and Venus all joined on the place of the malefic Uranus, i
his nativity and in the ruling sign of India !
ZADKIEL, TAO SZE.
* So was II.R.H. Prince Alfred—born with the evil Mais in Leo squarin
the Moon (6th August, 1844), and he also was shot in the hack.
TO CORRESPONDENTS.
The second Edition of the New Principia, price 3 shillings.—The Great
First Cause, price Is.—Handbook of Astrology, vol. i, 3s. 6d.; vol. ii, 4s.
may all be had, post-free, on sending stamps to Zadkieg, care of the
Printer. Letters to the Publisher will not be answered.
The Ephemeris for 1872, 1873 and 1874 will be published on the 1st
November, 1872. Price One Shilling.
ING DAVID TRIUMPHANT: a LETTER to the ASTRONOMERS of BENA
RES, by R. ,T. MORRISON, R.N., M.A.I., Author of the “NEW PRINCIPIA o!
the TRUE SYSTEM of ASTRONOMY.” The Work contains a Diagram of a Lunar
Eclipse, and Rules to calculate one by plain Arithmetic.—Price One Shilling.
LONDON: J. G. BERGER, NEWCASTLE STREET, STRAND.
K
B 2
�JANUARY, XXXI Days.
4
MOON’S CHANGES, &c. D.M. b souths If souths
[zadkiel’s
souths ? souths
h. m.
h. m.
h. m. h. m.
27 aft.
23 aft. 1st 0 51 a. 3 31m 6 33m.
7th 0 30
3 6
6 20
30 aft.
2 40
6 7
27 aft. 13th 0 10
19th 11 49 m 2 15
5 54
Apogee, 16d. 2h. m.'—Perigee,
29d. 2h. m.
25th 11 29
1 49
5 40
First Quar. 5th,
Full Moon, 13th,
Last Quar. 21st,
New Moon, 28th,
D.
D.
M. w.
9
4
8
5
Remarkable Days,
Planetary Aspects, &c., &c.
®’s
Lo ng-
tuo
h. m.
2 55 a.
2 59
3 2
3 4
3 5
J) rises H. W.
and sets Lon. B.
h. m. h. m.
1 W. Circumcision, ^r.5 51a. ©inp. HVfl3 2 6 a.41 311.40
2 Th. $ 135c$. D d $ 414 m. D.b.6 2 12 14 3 8 10 4 29
3 F. b sets 4 49 aft. Cl fast 4m 55s 13 16 4 9 38 5 20
4 S. if- rises 8 7 aft. Twi. ends 6 8
14 17 5 11
2 5m45
5 s. 2 Sun. after ©Ijrtstmas.
15 18 6 me rn. 6 35
6 M. lEpfpfjunp. ® 135° 2[. $ p. d. 1? 16 19 7 0 21 7 27
7 Tu. S' O b • 2 36° b • Day 7 59 long 17 20 8 1 40 8 28
8 W. Lucian. ® p. d. § . ? g
18 21 9 2 56 9 33
9 Th. $ p. d. If. $ rises 0 51 morn. 19 22 10 4 13 10 41
10 F. 2 sets 8 5 aft. Clock fast 7m 56s 20 24 11 5 26 11 50
21 25 12 6 34 0 1.47
n S. Hil. T. beg. J 150° iy. $ 144°
12 s. 1 Sun. af. ®pfpl). £ A 24
22 26 13 7 33 1 36
13 M. Cam. T. beg. Pl. Mon. ® g & p. d. b 23 27 14 ris es. 2 17
14 Tu. Oxf. T. beg. Q 144° If. ]) d $ 24 28 15 4 a. 54 2 56
15 W. $150°^. J 45° 1? .
[146 a. 25 29 16 6
2 3 32
.16 Th.
6
144° b . 2P-d-<?- J d 24543a. 26 30 17 7 12 4
17 F. © □ S'. 2 144° y. $ in 23
27 31 18 8 22 4 38
18 S. Prisca. Clock fast 10m 48s
28 32 19 9 31 5 10
19 S. 2».af. IE. ® 150° 24. £ 72° 3s 29 33 20 10 40 5 44
20 M. Fabian. $ 135° S
0X0734 21 11 51 6m 2
21 Tu Agnes, ©p.d. tf. S-^rU- Dd 1 35 22 mo rn. 6 40
vv. tlaceni. Day 8 35 long. [ J14 la. 2 36 23 1
3 7 21
23 Th. © g $. £ rises 7 2 morn.
3 37 24 2 21 8 13
24 F. 2 135°
Clock fast 12m 26s
4 38 25 3 41 9 21
25 8. Conn. S. P. Night 15 16 long
5 39 26 5
3 10 35
2t 5. 3 Sun. aft. ^ptp^anp.
6 40 27 6 20 11 53
27 yi. D d 5 1 35 a. J) d b 7 58 a.
7 41 28 7 25 0 a.56
21 Ou. $ souths 7 51 a, § souths 11 7 m. 8 42 N. se ts. 1 51
29 w. © 45u J. Clock fast 13m 27s
9 43 1 5a.37 2 42
30 Th. F.Ch.lbe. $db,-X-2. 2
10 44 2 7
b
*
8 3 32
31 F. Hil. T. e. $ □ $. D d 2 10 22 a. 11 45 3 8 38 4 18
�JANUARY, 1873.
ALMANAC.]
5
January 5th, Dividends due—paid on 8th, on which dal
British Museum, 10 till 4. Fire Insurance due at Christ
mas must be paid. Quarter Sessions, 1st week.
Lunar Influences.
The 4th, 8th, 18th, 23rd, 31st, Saturn
Is in
6th, 11th, 16th, 21st, 25th, Jupiter
good
1st, 10th, 16th, 25th, 30th, Mars
. aspect
3rd, 7th, 18th, 23rd, the Sun
with the
1st, 6th, 11th, 22nd, 27th, 31st, Venus
Moon.
1st, 6th, 16th, 22nd, 27th, 31st, Mercury
Seep. 35.
The sign A quarius rules Arabia, Tartary, Russia, Prussia,
Lithuania, part of Muscovy, Lower Sweden, Westphalia,
Hamburg, Bremen, Piedmont, ancient Sogdiana, on the
1
— of Persia.
B. Sim Sun Moon
M. rises. sets. South.
h.
18
28
38
48
E8
68
78
88
98
10 8
11 8
E8
13 8
14 8
15 8
18 8
17 8
18 7
£7
20 7
21 7
■22 7
23 7
24 7
25 7
E7
27 7
23 7
29 7
30 7
31 7
WEATHER PREDICTIONS—January, 1873.
h. m. h. m. The year begins cold and cloudy. On the 2nd,
9 3 59 2a 26 rainy, dull air; on the 5th, high wind, cold air ; 7th,
8 4 0 3 24 a stormy period, gales and ; rain prevail; Sth, mild
air, yet small rain frequent 9th, some rain ; 11th to
8 4 2 4 18 the 13th, violent storms and. squalls; 14th and 15th,
8 4 3 5 8 snow showers prevail, or cold rains; 16th and 17th,
8 4 4 5 55 milder and fairer on the whole; 18th, colder; 19th
7 4 5 6 41 and 20th, fair at intervals ; 21st, rain, yet mild air
7 4 6 7 27 generally; 23rd, cold, unsettled; 21th. snow showers §
snow;
unsettled, snow
7 4 8 8 15 25th, some 29th to 27th, very very tempestuousshowers
and gales;
the end, a
period,
6 4 9 9 4 with much rain and heavy falls of snow.—A season
5 4 11 9 54 able month, yet low barometer and rough weather
5 4 12 10 46 about the 13tA, 14tA, and last three days. On the Y&th
4 4 13 11 38 Saturn changes his sign, bringing a change.
3 4 15 mo rn.
VOICE OF THE STARS—January, 1873.
3 4 16 0 28 “Knowest thou the ordinances of the heavens;
2 4 18 1 17 canst thou set the dominion thereof in the earth I ”
1 4 20 2 3 —Job 38, v. 33. None but the well-read astrologer
0 4 21 2 47 may hope to do these things; and even then but
59 4 23 3 28 with much imperfection. The benefic Jupiter has
58 4 24 4 9 left the ruling sign of France, for a time, and that
is
cruel
; whence
57 4 26 4 50 land be left to thesundrymischief of Uranusand many
may
expected
deeds of violence
56 4 28 5 31 miseries therein. On the 16th Jupiter will again re
55 4 30 6 15 trograde into Leo, and remain there until July next,
53 4 3L 7 3 which will give France peace, except in April, when
52 4 33 7 55 the opposition of Saturn and Uranus will stir up
51 4 35 8 52 much strife and some bloodshed in that land. Saturn
still rules strong
49 4 36 9 55 on India, Mexicoin Capricorn, and brings many-griefs
and Greece, &c. These willbe re
48 4 38 11 0 markable on and near the 30th day; when Mercury
47 4 40 Oa 5 joins Saturn. The 7th is an evil day for all born on
45 4 42 1 7 the 13th and 14th of January, or on the 15th and
41 4 44 2 4 16th of July, in any year. The whole month prospers
42 4 45 2 58 to all born from the 21st to the 24th of August.
m.
�6
FEBRUARY, XXVIII Days, [zadkiel’s
MOON'S CHANGES, &c. D.M. Ip souths
n. in.
h. m.
First Quar. 4th, 10 6 m.
1st 11 4 m
Full Moon, 12th, 11 33 m.
7th 10 44
Last Quar. 20th, 11 23 m.
New Moon, 27th, 3 22 m. 13 th 10 23
Apogee, 12d. 3h. m.—Perigee, 19 th 10 2
26d. 2h. a.
25th 9 41
D. D.
of of
W. W.
Remarkable Days,
Planetary Aspects, &c., &c.
24 souths £ souths J souths
h.
1
0
0
11
11
m.
18 m
52
25
54 a.
28
0’s
Long.
h.
5
5
4
4
4
m.
24 m
9
54
37
20
h,
3
3
3
3
3
m.
6 a.
6
5
4
2
D rises H. W.
and sets Lon. B.
I h. m.
J 150° 24,144° <?. Day hr. 5 43 12/5746 4 10 a. 4
4 S. a. CTpipl;. Purif. Can. Day 13 47 511 24
Blasius. Clock fast 14m 8s
14 48
morn.
? 8 $• £ p. d. Ip . Twi. ends 6 48 15 49
0 44
Agatha. 8 □
sets 7 15 m. 16 49
2
3
? A$, 144° 2/. Ip rises 6 38 m. 17 50
3 18
g p. d. . 24 rises 5 34. aft.
18 51 10 4 28
8 S. $ rises 0 5 m. Day incr. 1 46 19" 52 11 5 29
9 S. Srptuagcs. Stinbap. 2 150 $
*
20 52 12 6 20
10 M. D d J$ 6 0 aft. Cl. fast 14m 30s 21 53 13 7
0
11 Tu. 24 150° Ip. Day 9 42 long 2 72 Ip. 22 54 14 7 20
12 W. Q p.d. If. D d 24 5 22 aft.
23 54 15 rises.
13 Th. ^72°24. 2 135° 2[. N. 14 15 1. 24 55 16 6 a.13
14 F.
$ f ets 9 36 aft.
25 55 17 7 21
15|S. ® 8 If, p. d. J . Day 9 57 long 26 56 18 ~8 30
16IS. Srxagcs ma Suntmp.
27 56 19 9 40
L7|M. $ 8'24. Cl.f.l4m 13s. 2gr.H.L.S. 28 57 20 10 53
l8Tu. ? p. d. 24. ]) d
6 48 aft.
29 57 21 morn.
19 AV. $ sets 5 3 aft. Night 13 48 long 0X58 22 0
/
10 ¡Th 5 P- d. . £ rises 11 37 aft.
1 58 23 1 25
21 [F. Q 150° ff, dj- g 150° D
2 59 24 2 44
22 S. Cam. Term div. m. n. © p. d. 2
~3 59|25 ~4 0
23 2>. Sljrobc' Sun. ® 36° Ip . $ p. d. 2 , 4 59|26 5
9
St. Matt. D d * n 48 m. [45° 2 6
?
2
0'27 6
J sets 10 4 a. Day 10 35 long
7
0128 6 43
0'29 7 11
iSsfj ®L © p. d.
? A J1
8
©144°^. J A 24. Hi 0 4a. 9
ON sets.
y souths 9 44 a. Nt. 13 13 long. 10
1| 0i
h. m
5 a. 3
5 47
6m 8
6 51
7 38
8 39
9 53
11 15
Oa.31
1 24
2
8
2 42
3 17
3 48
16.
4 46'
5 16^
5 48
6m 5
6 43
7 27'
31
58
J upiter a morning star till February 15th ; an evening star till Scp'embcr 4th;
a morning star to end.
Venus an evening star till May 5th ; then a morning star to ci d
�FEBRUARY, 1873.
almanac.]
7
February 2nd, Candlemas—Scotch Quarter Day. 14th,
Valentine. Why should not the young send love-letters ?
Lunar Influences.
'
Is in
The 4th, 15th, 19th, 28th, Saturn
good
2nd, 7th, 12th, 17th, 21st, Jupiter
aspect
8th, 13th, 23rd, 27th, Mars
with the
1st, 6th, 17th, 22nd, the San
M-oon.
5th, 10th, 21st, 25th, Venus
J Seep. 35.
5th, 17th, 22nd, 27th, Mercury
Th'e sign Pisces rules Portugal, Calabria, Normandy,
Galicia in Spain, Cilicia, Alexandria, Ratisbon, Worms,
Seville, Compostella and Tiverton.
D. I Sun | Sun I Moon
M. I rises. I sets. | South.
1 h. m. h. m. h. m.
WEATHER. PREDICTIONS—February, 1873.
Temperate during
days; 4th and
1 7 414 47 3a48 5th, stormy and cold, the first three and 7th, snow
frosty air ; 6th
E 7 39 4 49 4 36 showers, cloudy and dull; 9th and 10th, damp air,
3 7 38 4 51 5 24 rather unsettled; 11th and 12th, milder, but south
4 7 36 4 53 6 12 west gales prevail; 15th and 16th, very mild, but
5 7 34 4 54 7 1 high winds prevail, some rain; 17th, brilliant aurora,
6 7 33,4 56 7 51 high wind; 18th, still windy, with some rain; 20th |
period; 22nd and 23rd,
7 7 314 58 8 42 and 21st, a violent storm 25th, fairer; 26th, sudden
much rain falls. 24th and
8 7 29 5 0 9 34 squalls and showers, maybe snow ; 27th, temperate
E 7 27 5 2 10 25 air, fair at intervals.—A fair month generally, with
10 7 265 4 11 14 high barometer. I look for aurora on the 17 th, and
11 7 24'5 6 morn. very high 'winds. Last year, Jupiter in opposition to
12 7 22'5 7 0 0 Mercury brought an aurora over all Europe and Asia.
13 7 20!5 9 0 45 VOICE OF THE STARS—February, 1873.
14 7 18,5 11 1 27
Mars
strong in Scorpio,
therein rules
15 7 165 13 2 8 Barbaryflamessundry other places and p. 23), where'
and
(see
E 7 145 15 2 48 he brings discord and quarrels, as well as many
17 7 12 5 17 3 29 other evils, arising from violence ; which is his chief
18 7 105 18 4 12 delight. These things will be notable on and about
19 7 85 20 4 57 the 6th day. Jupiter retrogrades in Leo ; and therein
20 7 65 22 5 46 he mitigates the troubles of France, arising from the
the
21 7 45 24 6 39 mischievous propensities ofword French people; with
whom almost every hasty
engenders revenge ;
22 7 25 26 7 37 which renders them the least truly Christian people
E 7 05 27 8 39 of all Europe. On the 10th day may be looked for ;
24 6 585 29 9 43 a great struggle in the House of Commons ; probably
25 6 56 5 31 10 45 about a School Bill, or other matter in connection
26 6 545 33 11 45 with Education. Indeed, the 4th brings riots and
uproars in France, and troubles in Rome. Jupiter
27 6 525 34 0a41 brings gain and health to all born from the 17th to
28 6 49 5 36 1 34; the 21st of August, any year. Bat let all born from
the 16th to the 19th of January beware of cold, in-‘ juries to the knees, and troubles by old people, landMarch 3Oth& JunelOth,
: lords and farmers, &c.
Venus’greatest brilliancy
�[zadkiel’s
MARCH XXXI Days.
MOON’S CHANGES, &c.
D.M.
h. m.
First Quar. 6th, 1
Full Moon, 14th, 5
Last Quar. 21st, 10
New Moon, 28th, 0
25 m.
1st
44 m. 7th
19 aft. 13 th
54 aft.
Apogee, lid. 8h. m.—Perigee, 19th
25th
26 d. llh. a.
D. D.
cf of
M. w.
1? souths 7/ souths S souths 2 souths
h.
9
9
8
8
8
m.
27m
6
44
23
1
Remarkable Days,
Planetary Aspects, &c., &c.
h.
11
10
10
9
9
m.
10 a
.44
18
52
26
h.
4
3
3
3
2
m.
8m
49
28
6
43
nJ.
0a
57
53
47
39
h.
3
2
2
2
2
0’s 4? D rises H.W.
and sets Lon. B.
Long.
h. m.
1 s. St. D. fÿ sets 5 38 m. Least twi. 11 XI
8 a. 59
2 s. 1 Sun. tn ïïrnt. Chad. ) d S 11 12
1
3 M. ©A^. jal?,p. d. £. [49 m."
13
1
4 Tu. 0 45° 1?. $ 150u2[, 36° 2
14
1
morn.
5 W. Emb. W. 2 p. d. 2£. Cl. f. 11m 38s 15
1
1
4
16
1
2 18
6 Th. 2 □ y. Twilight ends 7 40
1
3 24
7 F. Perp. 0135°#. ÿ >|< 1? , 144° , 17
] 9 4 19
8 S. [Day inc. 3 33. g in £. [135° J1 18
9ÎS. 2 Sun. tn lEent. $ A
Jd$ 19
2
1 10 5
10 M. i 1? r. 4 42 m. Cl. f. 10m 24s. [9 55 a. 20
1 11 5 35
21
1 12! 5 59
11 Tu. © p. d. £. D d 4 4 58 aft.
1 13 6 19
12 W. Ereg. 1? p. d.
£ 135° 2[, 144° 22
L3Th.'0 150° 2J., 45° ?.
[<? 23
C 14 6 34
14 F. 'll sels 5 41 m. Day 11 43 long 24
0 15 ris es.
("16 7 a. 31
25
15 8. $ 72° . S rises 10 30 aft.
116 S. 3 Suniiap in "Lent.
¡25 59)17 8 43
'17 M. St. Pat. ÿ 150° $. Nt. 12 5 long 26 59 18 9 57
18 TvL.Ed.K. TE& Jd<? 9 56 m. Cl.f.|27 5919 11 12
19 W. © 144° if.. £ gr. elong.E. [8m8s'28 58 20 morn.
20 Th. © ent.rO 52 a. 0 135° o . ? p.d ¡29 58 21 0 31
w
+
.
21 F. Benedict. 0 >|< Tj. ¿'sta. [iff & | Ot57 22' 1L 49
1 57 23 2 58
22 S. © A $. 2 sets 10 43 aft.
2 56 24 3 57
23 S. 4 S. tn ILtnt. 2 8 E3 56 25' 4 40
24 M. D d 1? 0 27 m. Cl. fast 6m 18s
4 55 26 5 11
25 Tu. Lady Day. £ sets 8 1 aft.
26 W. C souths 8 0 aft. Day 12 30 long 5 54 27 5 36
6 54 28 5 54
27 Th. 0 135° 2£. £ stationary
28 F. i $ souths 0 48 a. N. 11 22 long 7 53 N.! sets.
3
29 S. 0144°^. ]) d ? 9 54 morning i 8 52 1 7a. 51
30 S. 5 S. tn "Lent. ? at gr. brilliancy | 9 52 2 9 17
31 M. J 72° $. D d ? 11 32 morning'10 51 3 10 41
h.
m.
3 a. 59
4 40
5 18
5 57
6ml6
7
0
7 53
9
9
10 39
0 a. 4
1
4
1 46
2 22
2 52
3 21
3 48
4 17
4 47
5 18
5 52
6m.l2
0
7
5
8
9 44
11 21
0 a.34
1 28
2 11
2 52
3 32
4 11
�ALMANAC.]
MARCH, 1873.
9
March 1st, Municipal Assessors appointed. Overseers on
the 25th. Lady Day—rents and insurance fall due. Never
trench on the money provided for rent.
Lunar Influences.
The 4th, 14th, 19th, 27th, Saturn
V
Is in
„ 1st, 6th, 11th, 16th, 20th, 29th, Jupiter
good
,, Sth, 13th, 22nd, 26th, Mars
I aspect
„ 3rd, 8th, 19th, 23rd, the Sun
( with the
,, 2nd, 7th, 12th, 26th, 31st, Venus
I Moon.
,, 4th, 9th, 20th, 25th, 2jth, Mercury
J Seep. 35.
The sign Aries rules England, Denmark, Germany,
Lesser Poland, Syria, Palestine, Naples, Florence, Verona,
Padua, Marseilles, Burgundy, Saragossa, Cracow, Biimingbam and Leicester.
D. Sun Sun Moon
M. rises. sets. South.
WEATHER PREDICTIONS—March, 1873.
h. m. h. m. h. m. Unsettled at first; 3rd and 4th, a
1 6 47 5 38 2a24 period, much rain, gales and had showers ;very stormy
5th, fairer;
E 6 45 5 40 3 14 6th and 7th, stormy again, lightning or auro a; 9th,
3 6 43 5 42 4 4 windy; 11th to 13th, unsettled, but mild air, aurora
4 6 41 5 43 4 54 seen; 15th and 16th, rather fair; 17th and 18th,
5 6 38 5 45 5 45 showery; 20th and 21st, cloudy, some thunder ; 22nd
6 6 36 5 47 6 37 to 24th, heavy rains, very unsettled ; 25th to 27th,
fairer; 29th, warmer; 31st, rain again.—A rather
7 6 34 5 48 7 29 fair month after the 4th day ; the lilh and 21si to
8 6 32 5 50 8 21 24th, however, will be very unsettled.
E 6 30 5 52 9 10
10 6 27 5 54 9 58
VOICE OF THE STARS—March, 1873.
11 6 2-5 5 55 10 43
Jupiter still retrogrades in the last face of Leo;
12 6 23 5 57 11 26 and therein brings a more settled state of things
13 6 20 5 59 mo rn. among the fickle-minded men of France. Saturn
14 6 18 6 1 0 7 steals on, and euters the sign Aquarius on the 13th.
15 6 16 6 2 0 48 He therein speedily meets the opposition of Uranus,
E 6 14 6 4 1 29 and Arabia, Russia, Prussia, Hamburg, &c., will
suffer from storms and political excitement. France
17 6 11 6 6 2 11 also will witness plots and sudden outbreaks of popu
18 6 9 6 7 2 55 lar indignation against the ruler. The passage of
19 6 7 6 9 3 42 Saturn over the M. C. of a lady of high distinction
20 6 5 6 11 4 33 will bring her trouble ; i ct as she has the Moon rapt
21 6 2 6 12 5 29 par. Jupiter 53° 51' now operating, no very serious
22 6 0 6 14 6 28 matter may be feared. Mars is stationary iu 15° 17'
22nd day ; which indicates earth
E 5 58 6 16 7 29 of Scorpio on themischiefs abounding; the more so as
quakes and other
24 5 55 6 17 8 30 the Sun, that day, aspects the evil Uranus; hence
25 5 53 6 19 9 29 sudden, unexpected and cruel will be the conse
26 5 51 6 21 10 25 quences. Let all born on the 8th or 9th of November,
27 5 49 6 23 11 18 any year, be on their guard, to avoid ill health, rup
and other
28 5 46 6 24 0 a. 9 tures, of August injuries. All born from the 14tli to
17th
will now flourish, and enjoy good
29 5 44 6 26 1 0 health. Those born on or near the 21st of January
E 5 42 6 27 1 50 will suffer from colds and weakness in the legs.
31 5 39 6 29 2 42
�10
VIOON'S CHANGES, &c.
h. m.
First Quar. 4th, 6
Full Moon, 12th, 9
Last Quar. 20 b, 5
New Moon,26th,10
Apogee,
D
of
M.
[zadkiel’s
APRIL XXX Days.
D.M.
36 aft.
1st
51 aft.
7th
47 m. 13th
42 aft.
7cl. lib. a.—Perigee, 19th
25th
23<1. Sb. a.
I? souths 7/ souths (J souths $ souths
h.
7
7
6
6
6
m.
F6m
14
51
29
6
h.
8
8
8
7
7
m.
57 a.
33
9
45
22
h.
2
1
1
0
0
m.
13 m
45
16
45
13
h.
2
2
1
1
0
m.
26 a.
10
50
24
53
u
Remarkable Days,
Planetary Aspects, &c., &c.
hr
J) rises ' H.W.
®’s
Long. x and sets J Lon. B.
h. m. h. m.|
Tu
sets 3 49 m. Clock fast 3m 52s 11Y 50 4 morn. 4 a. 471
0 5 25
2 W.
rises 3 17 in. Day 12 57 long 12 49 5 0
3 Th. li. Bish. Chick. 0 72° 1?, 150° J 13 48 6 1 12 5 m45
4 F. St. Ambr. Cain. T. ends. $ □ If 14 47 7 2 13 6 29
2 7 19
15 46 8 3
5 S. Orford Term ends. 0 36° J
6 S. paling. 0d
? 36;$. idV 16 45 9 3 38, 8 33
410
6
7|M. D d If 8 4 a. Nt. 10 43 1. [4 5 m. 17 44 101 4
8 Tu.iQ p. (1. ÿ , I; g lÿ. Clock f. Im 49s 18 43 11 4 25 11 32
9 W. $—.........................
19 42 12 4 41 0 a. 33
72° b • C stationary
20 41 13 4 56 1 11'
.0 Th. $ 150° f . If. sets 3 50 morn.
9 1
.1 F. (fioob dfriban. 0 A If. D. br. 3 8 21 39 14 5
.2 S. J lis. 8 25 aft. Day 13 36 long 22 38 15 lises. 2 16
faster Sunbap. 0 30° ?
23 37 16 7 a. 45 2 47
2 3 17
J stationary. ]) d <? 9 32 morn. 24 36 17 9
l5|Tu. B'as. Term beq. Clock slow Oni 3s 25 34 18 10 21 3 471
26 3319 11 39 4 19|
16 W. Oxf. Term beq. Twi. ends 9 7
27 31 20 morn. 4 54
17 Th. 11 stationary. Day incr. 6 11
28 30 21 0 53 5 34
18 F. Cam. T. leg. $ sets 9 55 aft.
29 29Ì22 1 54 5 m56
19 S. Alphege. £ stationary
20 %. Ifoto Sunban. Jrf b 9 21 morn. 0 b 27 23 2 39 6 51
4
21 M. 0 □ $ , 5 150° . Cl. si. Im 25s 1 26 24 3 18 8
2 24 25 3 39 9 38
22 Tu. © □ b • Night 9 46 long
8
0 11
3 22,26 4
23 AV. St. George. £ rises 4 18 morn.
24 Th. 2 □ If. Day 14 22 long
4 21 27 4 16 0a.l2
1
25 F. St.Mark, ©p.d.j'. D d £ 3 8 m 5 19 28 4 30 1
[ $ in aph. 6 18,N. sets. 1 45
26 8. $ souths 5 58 aft.
27 5. 2 S. aft. ®. ®cf(?.>)d?9 28a 7 16 1 8 a.L- 2 26
5
28 M. If sets 2 40 m. Clock si. 2m 40s , 8 14 2 9 35 3
9 12 3 10 53 3 44
¿9 Tu 8 36° 2 . Day 14 40 long
10W. J sets 8 33 aft. £ souths 10 22 m. 10 11 4 morn 4 22
I 1
]
r
�ALMANAC.]
APRIL, 1873.
11
April 5th, Dividends due—payable on the 8th, by whic
time Insurance must be paid. Quarter Sessions 1st week.
Lunar Influences.
The 1st, 10th, 15th, 24th, 28th, Saturn
Is in
„ 2nd, 7th, 12th, -7th, 25th, 29th, Jupiter
good
,, 4th, 9th, 18th, 22nd, Mars
>. aspect
,, 2nd, 7th, 17th, 22nd, the Sun
' with the
,, 5th, 10th, 19th, 23rd, 27th, Venus
Moon.
„ 2nd, 6th, 16th, 20th, 24th, 29th, Mercury A Seep. 35.
The sign Taurus rules Ireland, Persia, Great Poland,
Asia Minor, the Archipelago, the Islands of Cyprus, part
of Russia, Dublin, Palermo, Mantua, Leipsic, Parma,
Franconia, Louvain, &c.
D. Sun Sun
M. rises. sets.
Moon
South.
h. m. h. m. h.
15
2S
35
45
55
E5
75
85
; 95
10 5
11 a
12 5
E5
14 5
15 5
16 5
17 6
18 5
19 4
E4
ai 4
22 4
23 4
24 4
25 4
26 4
E4
28 4
29 4
30 4
37 6
35 6
33 6
30 6
28 6
26 6
24 6
22 6
19 6
17 6
15 6
13 6
10 6
86
66
46
26
06
58 7
56 7
53 7
51 7
49 7
47 7
45 7
43 7
41 7
39 7
37 7
36 7
m.
31 3a 3 4
32 4 28
34 5 21
36 6 14
38 7 5
39 7 53
41 8 39
42 9 23
44 10 5
46 10 46
47 11 27
49 morn.
51 0 9
52 0 52
54 1 39
56 2 30
57 3 24
59 4 22
1 5 22
2 6 22
4 7 20
6 8 15
7 9 8
9 9 58
11 10 48
12 11 37
14 0a28
16 1 20
17 2 14
19 3 9
WEATHER PREDICTIONS—April, 1873.
The month begins quietly. 3rd, showers; 4th,
fair blue sky, and white clouds; 6th, wind and
moisture prevail; 8th and 9th, turbulent, stormy
weather; 10th and 11th, warm air, fair and summerlike ; 13th and 14th, wet prevails, growing weather;
16th and 17th, mild and fair generally; 19th to 21st,
unsettled; 22nd, cold, wet and windy; 24th and
25th, fair and warm; 27th, heat, lightning, rain at
night, fine growing weather, generally, to the end.
—A fair month; very pleasant on Good Friday.
Warm air prevails, except on the 21,st and ‘ ind.
F
The thermometer above the average.
VOICE OF THE STARS—April, 1873.
The opposition of Saturn and Uranus this month
is one of the chief astrological features of the year. It
happens but very rarely. There was an opposition,how
ever, in January, 1829, very near the place of this phe
nomenon. The chief effects will fall on France.
It will be well if the rulers of France do not quar
rel with those of Russia. The opposition of these
malefics falling on the birthday of the King of Den
mark brings to pass a serious trouble to that monarch ;
nor will his neighbour in Belgium be much better off
in this respect. The retrograde march of Jupiter in
Leo will defend France from much bloodshed ; and
this position will greatly benefit all born on or near
the 14th August, in any year. But those born on
the 22nd January and the 24th July will feel the
power of these opposing malefics, and lose relations,
and suffer much trouble by old persons, landlords,
farmers, and other saturnine persons about the 8th of
this month more especially. Venus in Taurus keeps
things tolerably peaceable in Ireland; especially
near the middle of this month.
�12
MAY XXXI Days.
[zadkiel’s
MOON’S CHANGES, &c. D.M. I? souths 'll souths
h. m.
First Quar. 4 th, 0 33 aft.
Full Moon, 12th, 1118 m. 1st
Last Quar., 19th, 11 0 in. 7 th
New Moon, 26th, 9 20 m. 13th
Apogee, 5d. 6h. m.—Perigee, 19th
25th
20d. Oh. m.
D
D.
of
h.
m.
5
5
4
4
4
43 m
20
56
32
8
Remarkable Days,
Planetary Aspects, &c., &c.
h.
m.
6
6
6
5
5
59 a.
37
15
53
32
souths $ souths
h.
m.
h. m.
11 35 a. 0 17 a.
11 3W 11 40m
10 31 11 5
10 1 10 33
9 33 10 7
*
¡30
D ri ses H. W.
G) s
Lon g- O'? and sets Lon. B.
.*
m.
h. m. h.
1 Th. St.Ph.dc St. J. 0 p.d. 2(., 72° I? 11 S 9 5 Om 1 5 a . 1
2 F. $ sets 1 34 m. Day break 1 59 12
7 6 0 56 5 42
3 S. Invention of the Cross.
]) d
13
5 7 1 38 6m 5
4 s. 3 5. after faster
[Oh 31m a. 14
3 8 2
9 6 55
5 M. 3d?. ]) d If. Oh 32m a.
15
1 9 2 30 7 59
6 Tu. John Evan. g72° !{.. Clock slow 15 59 10 2 48 9 21
7 W. ? p. d. b • Twi e. 10 13 [3m. 34s. 16 57 11 3
3 10 37
8 Th. 5 A
Night 8 49 long
17 55 12 3 16 11 41
9 F. East. Term ends. Ip rises 0 54 m. 18 53 13 3 28 Oa .27
10 S. 0 72°
3 □ 1?. J) d 3 11 40 a. 19 51 14 3 41 1
2
11 s. 4 Sunbap after lEaster. 0 p. d. ? 20 49 15 3 55 1 39
12 M. D ecl. inv. at Gr. J? sta. | 3 □ $ 21 47 16 4 11 2 12
13 Tu. Old May Day. 0 □ 1/
22 45 17 1 is es. 2 49
14 W. If sets 10 56 a. Cl. slow 3 m. 54s. 23 42 18 10a.42 3 23
15 Th. £ g 3 . Day 15 32 long
24 40 19 11 49 4
0
16 F. 5 □
? gr, Hel. Lat. S. 25 38 20 mo rn. 4 41
17 S. D d 1? 3 25 aft. Night 8 22 long 26 36 21 0 42 5 27
18 s. Rogation Sunlrap.
27 34 22 1 18 5m51
19 M. C. T. div. m. n. 0 p. d. Ip . $ p. d. 3 , 28 31 23 1 45 6 53
20 Tu. Day 15 47 long
[d ? 29 29 24 2
6 8
6
¿1 W. ®p.d.$. Jp.d.2f. Cl.s.3m.40s 0n27 25 2 23 9 27
22 Th. Asa. Day. Holy Thurs. b 8 $
1 24 26 2 38 10 39
23 F. Tr.T.b. 0^^, Ab- $ p.d. ? 2 22 27 2 53 11 40
24 S. B. of Q. Viet. $ p. d. 1/. J) d ? 7 3 20 28 3
9 0 a .30
25 S. ittn. af, "Ss. D d £ 0 59m. [56 m. 4 17 29 3 26 1 19
26 M. <1 ug. 0 ecl. vis. at Gr. $ stat.
5 15 N. se bs. 2
3
27 Tu. Ven. Bede. 3 sets 2 34 morn.
6 12 1 9 a .42 2 46
28 W. £ □ 1/. Clock slow 3m Os
7 10 2 10 45 3 27
29 Th. Bing Charles II res. Jr. 2 41 m. 8
7 3 11 33 4 4
30 F. Oxf. T. ends. D d $ 10 38 aft.
5 4 mo rn. 4 43
9
31 S. Oxf. T. begins. Night 7 48 long 10
2 5 0
8 5 24
M. w.
�MAY, 1873.
ALMANAC.]
13
May 1st, British Museum closes for a week; on the 8th
opens from 10 till 7—reading room 9 till 7. 24th, Queen’s
birthday—drink her Majesty’s health and long life.
Lunar Influences.
'i Is in
The 8th, 12th, 21st, 25th, 30th, Saturn
good
„ 4th, 10th, 14th, 23rd, 27th, Jupiter
x aspect
,, 1st, 5th, 15th, 19th, 27th, Mars
with the
,, 1st, 6th, 16th, 21st, 31st, the Sun
Moon.
„ 2nd, 6th, 15th, 19th, 24th, 28th, Venus
Seep. 35.
„ 4th, 15th, 19th, 24th, 30th, Mercury
The sign Gemini rules Lower Egypt, America, Lombardy,
Sardinia, Brabant, Belgium, the West of England, London,
Versailles, Mentz, Bruges, Louvain, Cordova and Nuremburg.
D. Sun Sun Moon.
M. rises. sets. South.
WEATHER PREDICTIONS—Mat, 1873.
Windy, but fair in general at first. A tendency
h. m. h. m. h. m.
the
the 5th
1 4 34 7 20 4a 3 to rain asjoins Sun approaches Venus. On the 7th
the Sun
Venus, and from thence to
2 4 32 7 22 4 56 much rain may be expected ; Sth, windy and fairer ;
3 4 30 7 24 5 47 10th to 13th, a stormy, unsettled atmosphere, the
E 4 28 7 25 6 34 latter day fairer, with white clouds abounding; 15th
5 4 26 7 27 7 18 and 16th, storms of wind and lightning; 17th, cloudy
6 4 24 7 28 8 1 and cooler; 19th, cold air, rain prevails; 21st to
stormy and cool, rain
and turbulent
7 4 23 7 30 8 42 23rd, 24th, showers; 26th, prevails,and some rain ;
air;
cloudy,
8 4 21 7 32 9 23 28th, fa’rer, lightning or aurora at night. The
0 4 19 7 33 10 4 month ends fair, yet cloudy.—-The temperature below
10 4 18 7 35 10 47 the average; and on the 5th, 10th, and 22nd, rain
E 4 16 7 36 11 33 and storms prevail.
IS 4
13 4
14 4
15 4
16 4
17 4
E4
19 4
ft) 4
21 4
22 4
S3 3
24 3
E3
26 3
27 3
28 3
29 3
30 3
31 3
15
13
11
10
8
7
6
4
3
2
1
59
58
57
56
55
54
53
52
51
7
7
7
7
7
7
7
7
7
7
7
7
7
7
7
7
8
8
8
8
38 morn.
39 0 23
41 1 17
42 2 15
44 3 16
45 4 17
47 5 15
48 6 11
50 7 3
51 7 53
52 8 41
54 9 29
55 10 18
56 11 9
58 0a 2
59 0 56
0 1 51
1 2 46
2 3 38
3 4 27
VOICE OF THE STARS—May, 1873.
On the 10th and 11th, Mars will form an evil
aspect with Saturn and Uranus ; this denotes violent
explosions in mines, and numerous deaths thereby.
In France there will be, when Saturn eomes to
opposition of Uranus, on the 22nd, military riots
and outbreaks, with their usual attendants, deeds of
blood and violence. Jupiter, being in the ruling
sign of France, will mitigate these evils, as we may
hope. On the 3rd the King of Sweden has the
Moon joined with Uranus, and opposed by Saturn,
on his birthday. For him we can only expect a year
of troubles, which will arise from acts of violence in
his country. On the 24th we are glad to see the
Moon joined with Venus; which imports a year of
health, peace and pleasure to all born that day;
and this denotes gain and wealth to Old England.
Let all born at the time the Sun’s place is afflicted
by the malefics, viz,, 23rd January and 26th July,
in any year, be on their guard against sudden per
sonal troubles and accidents. They will be exceed
ingly liable thereto about the 10th and 22nd days.
�14
[zadkiel’s
JUNE XXX Days.
MOON’S CHANGES, &c. D.M. 1? souths 24 souths (J souths $ souths
h. m.
First Quar. 3rd, 6
Full Moon, lOtb, 10
Last Quar. 17th, 3
New Moon 24th, 9
19 m.
1 aft. 1st
31 aft. 7th
12aft. 13 th
Apogee, 2d. Oh. a.—Perigee, 19th
Ud. 2h. a.—Apogee, 30d. 6h.m. 25th
D. D. I
of
M. W.
h.
3
3
2
2
2
m.
40m
16
51
26
1
h.
5
4
4
4
3
m.
7 a.
47
26
6
46
h.
9
8
8
7
7
m.
2 a.
37
15
54
34
h.
9
9
9
9
8
m.
43m
27
15
6
59
<D I
Remarkable Days,
Planetary Aspects, &c., <kc.
s << 1 J) rises H. W.
Long. *.aQ 1 and sets Lon. B.
h. m
1 S. TO)ttS. $A,&p.d.Jp. W2f511n 0 6 0m34
2 M.
am. $ -0,144°
[26 a. 11 57 7 0 54
3 Tu. Wt®. ® 72° 1/, 135°
12 55 8 1 10
4 W. Ember IF. Clock slow Im 58s. ÿ 13 52 9 1 23
5 Th. Boniface. 0 36° £ .
[in & 14 50 10 1 36
6 F. 0p.d. ÿ. ÿ 72° If, 135° D ci J 15 47 11 1 47
7 S. © 135° ip. (? sta. Nt. 7 36 loDg 16 44 12 2
0
8 S. Œrinitp Sunbap. 5 135° Ip, 36° J 17 42 13 2 17
9 M. 0 45°
<3 . Iÿ sets 11 4aft. 18 39 14 2 35
10 Tu. b p. d. tÿ. 5 at gieatest bril.
19 36 15 3
3
11 W. St. Barnabas. Clock slow 0m 40s 20 34 16 rises.
12 Th. Corpus Christi. $ 144° Ip,If 21 31 17 10 a. 36
13 F. S 36° I£, A ^,45° J. î d 1? 8 22 28 18 11 19
14 S. Ip r. 10 28 a. If sets 11 43 a. [32a. 23 2619 11 49
15 5. 1 Sun. af. ®rin. 5 16u° Ip
2 4 23'20 morn.
16 M. f sets 1 9 morn. Day 16 33 long 25 20 21 0 12
17 Tu. St. Alban.. © 144° Ip , >|< If
26 17 22 0 30
18.W. 2 rises 154 m. Cl. fast 0m 48s 27 14 23 0 45
19 Th. ? p. d. 2f. ÿ gr. Hel. Lat. N.
0
28 12 24 1
20 F. Ac. Q. Viet. Cam. T. e. © A ¿f 29
9 25 1 15
21 S. P. Q. V. © ent. $ 9 25 m. J) <3 J 025 6 £6 ! 1 33
22^ 2 S. af. ®r. 0 150° ip
1
3 27 1 53
23 M. ÿ sets 9 34 a. Clock fast lm 53s 2
1 28 2 21
24|Tu. St. J. Bapt. Mids. Day. £
J
2 58 N. sets.
25 ,W. £ 36° If. If sets 10 58 aft.
3 55 1 9 a. 26
26: Th 0 p. d. J. D d g 11 19 morn
4 52 2 10
7
27iF. ]) ô $ 9 14 morn. Nt. 7 28 long 5 50 3 10 36
28 S. J 72° y. $ souths 1 30 aft.
6 47 4 10 58
29 S. 3 5. af. ®r. St. Peter, ¿f □ Ip. J> 7 44 5 11 14
30 M. $ souths 1 53 a. [ d 2f 9 27 m. 8 41 6 11 29
h. ID.
5m46
6 32
7 22
8 2
9 32
10 36
11 27
0 a. 16
1
0
1 41
2 24
6
3
3 50
4 36
5 26
5m53
6 49
7 53
1
9
10
4
i>
11
0 a. 5
0 58
1 48
2 32
3 13
3 53
4 30
h?
5
/
5 44
�ALMANAC.]
JUNE, 1873.
J unb 20th, Overseers fix notices of persons who vote for
counties. Parties registered need make no new claim unless
they have changed residence. Quarter Sessions, last week.
Lunar Influences.
The 4th, 9th, l§th, 22nd, Saturn
\
Is in
,, 1st, 6ch, 10th, 19th, 24th, 29th, Jupiter
) good
,, 1st, 11th, 15th, 24th, 29th, Mars
t aspect
,, 5th, 15th, 19th, 30th, the Sun
( with the
„ 2nd, 12th, 16tli, 20th, 26th, Venus
1 ’Moon.
,, 5th, 15th, 20th, 26th, Mercury
' Seep. 35.
The sign Cancer rules Scotland, Holland. Zealand,
Georgia, all Africa, Constantinople, Algiers, Tunis, Am
sterdam, Cadiz, Venice, Genoa, York, St. Andrews, New
York, Bern, Lubeck, Milan and Manchester.
Sun , Siin Moon |
M. rises. sets. Sou th.
WEATHER PREDICTIONS—June, 1873.
I 'h. m. 1 h. m h. m., The month begins with clouds and winds, a’so
3rd, warm and
4th and
’ E 3 50 8 5 5a 13 some thunder. 7th, heat prevails,fair; lightning 5th,
ditto; 6th and
and
and
3 50 8 6 5 56 hail; 9th and 10th, sudden changes, barometer un- ■
3' 3 49 8 7' 6 37 settied, hail showers. 12th and 13th, windy, rain,'
4 3 48 8 8 7 18 aurora seen; 15th to 17th, the hca. increases, fair
5 3 47 8 9i 7 58 generally; 19th, fair and warm; 20th, heat and
thunder prevail 22nd, cooler, cloudy ;
6| 3 47 8 10, 8 40 some thunder; ;26th, slight changes, fair24th, rainy,:
generally
7 3 46 8 11’ 9 25 29th and 30th, serious thunderstorms, dangerous
E 3 46 8 12. 10 13 lightning —After the 17th heat inereai s. The last
9' 3 46 8 12 11 6 tivo or three days stormy ; then cooler.
2i
io 3 45 8
It 3 45 8
12 3 45 8
13 3 44 8
14 3 44 8
E 3 44 8
16 3 44 8
17 3 44 8
ri8 3 44 8
19 3 44 8
20 3 44 8
21 3 45 8
E 3 45 8
S3 3 45 8
24 3 45 8
25 3 46 8
26 3 46 8
27 3 47 18
28 3 47 •8
E 3 48 8
30 3 48 ¡8
13 morn.
VOICE OF THE STARS—June, 1873.
14 0 3
14 1 5 Mars retrogrades in Libra till the 8th, and he then
15 2 7 proceeds on in that s'gn till the 25th. He will
many troubles to
16 3 8 therein bring in China, Japan,England, and produce
disturbances
Austria, and other
16 4 6 countlies, for which see p. 21. At the end of the
17 5 0 month, having again entered Scorpio, he will once
17 5 51 more form a square with Saturn, and stir up scenes
17 6 39 of violence in countries under the rule of Aquarius
Jupiter,
moves
peace
18 7 27 and Scorpio. and meetsthis month, aspectsonwhence
ably in Leo,
only good
;
18 8 14 we may hope that our neighbours in France will be
18 9 3 quiet and enjoy a good time at length, notwith
19 9 541 standing the presence of Uranus in Leo, and Saturn
19 10 47 in Aquarius. The stars shine favourably also on
19 11 42 Rome ; where now we trust there is no presence of
child
evil
mischief called
Let
19 0a36 thatpersonsofborn andor near the 23rdthe Pope. and
all
on
January,
19 1 29 on or near the 26th July, be guarded against specu
19 2 20 lations, and beware of hurts to their legs and ankles ;
19 3 7 and let them also be prepared, towards the end oi
18 3 51 this month, for sudden deaths among the members
and accidents by water in various
18 4 33 of their family, forms.
ways and sundry
�16
souths If souths £ souths 2 souths
MOON’S CHANGES, &c. D. M.
h. m.
First Quar. 2nd, 11
Full Moon, 10th, 6
Last Quar. 16th, 8
New Moon, 24th, 10
10 aft.
1st
33 m.
58 aft. 7th
34 m. 13th
Perigee, 12d. 51i. m.—Apogee, 19 th
27d. 9h. a.
25 th
0. D.
of of
W.
M.
[zadkiel’s
JULY XXXI Days.
h.
1
1
0
0
11
m.
36 m
11
45
20
50 a.
Remarkable Days,
Planetary Aspects, &c., &c.
h.
m.
3 27 a.
3 7
2 48
2 28
2 9
O’s
Long.
h.
m
7
7
6
6
6
16 a.
0
44
30
17
h.
8
8
8
8
8
m.
55 m
52
51
51
53
. J rises H.W.
_
and sets Lon. B.
h.
m 11.
Ill.
926 38 7 11a .42 6m 4
1 Tu. $ J51?, □ <?. Day deer. 0 5
2 W. Vis.B. V.M. © 45° 2 ■ Cl.fa.3m 44 10 36 8 11 53 6 46
*
3 Th [Dog days begin. £ d
P- d. I? 11 33 9 mo rn. 7 33
6 8 26
4 F. ¡Trans. St. Martin. D d
5 15 a. 12 30 10 0
5|S. O.T. ends. £ p. d. Ijl. Day 16 25 1 13 27 11 0 19 9 29
6 [ S. [ 4 S. af. ®r. Old Mids. D. © 45° If 14 21 12 0 37 10 27
0 11 27
15 22 13 1
7|M. Thomas d Becket. 2 □ If16 19 14 1 31 0a.24
8 Tu. 2 A . $ set 9 15 aft.
9 W. I? 150° If. Clock fast 4m 54s
17 16 15 2 16 1 16
5
10 Th. $ p. d. 2 • 1? rises 8 42 aft.
18 13 16 ris es. 2
11 F. ({ d 1? 2 23 morn. If sets 10 1 a. 19 10 17 9 a. 50 2 54
8 18 10 16 3 42
12 S. $ □ y. 5 72° 2 . Day 16 13 1. 20
5 19 10 37 4 31
13 S. 5 Sun, after ®r. 2 -X
*
150° & 21
22
2 20 10 53 5 20
14 M. $ p. d. cf . g sets 11 27 aft.
15 Tu. St.Swithin. 2 gr. elong. W.
¡22 59 21 11
7 5 m44
16 W. 2 rises 19 m. Clock fast 5m 44s ; 23 56 22 11 22 6 35
17 Th. 5 sets 9 6 aft. Day 16 2 long ¡24 54 23 11 39 7 27
18 F. © 36° If. $ sets 8 37 aft.
¡25 51 24 11 58 8 25
19 S. b> rises 8 4 a. Night 8 2 long
¡26 48 25 morn. 9 26
20 S. 6 Sun. af. ®r. © p.d. J?. J d 2 -27 46 26 0 23 10 32
21 M. gp. d. If. 4 s. 9 25 a. [11 40 m. 28 43 27 0 54 11 43
22 Tu. \Magd. © g >? . ? p. d. #, 135° t? 29 40 28 1 37 Oa.46
23 W. 'Clock fast 6m 10s. Day br. 0 42 0SL38 29i 2 32 1 39
1 35 n.: sets. 2 22
24 Th. $ 144° ¿f. D d $ 7 20 aft.
2 32 1 9 a. 3 3
3
25 F. St. James. © p d. J .
"
26 S. . A tn "ft 0
0 P-d.
H? "*1 3 30 2 9 20 3 38
27'S. 7 S. af.
j) d If 2 56 m. ’[54 a. 4 27 3| 9 35 4 10
28:M. 2 rises 10 m. Cl. fast 6 m 12s
5 24 4i 9 48 4 43
29 Tu. © d W,45° 2,2 45°$. Nt. 8 30 1. 6 22 5 10
0| 5 17
30 W. ? 144° 1?, 72° 7/. $ stationary 7 19 6 10 111 5 51
QI TV. L. 144° If
X e.An+V.0
18
«
1 -7
>71 1 A
OA
itm C
31 Th. I? 144° If. $ souths 11 18 aft.
�ammanaci]
JULY, 1873.
17
July. Dividends due 6th, paid the 8th. Insurance must
be paid this day. 20th, Kates, &c., due 6th April, must
be paid, or votes will be lost.
Lunar Influences.
Is in
The 2nd, 6th, 14th, 19th, 28th, Saturn
good
4th, 8th, 17th, 21st, 26th, Jupiter
aspect
9th, 13th, 22nd, 27th, Mars
with the
5th, 14th, 18th, 29th, the Sun
Moon.
1st, 11th, 15th, 20th, 25th, 30th, Venus
1st, 7th, 16th, 21st, 26th, 31st, Mercury
See. p. 35.
The sign Leo rules France, Italy, Bohemia, Sicily, Rome,
Bath, Bristol, Taunton, Portsmouth, Cremona, Prague, the
Alps, Apulia, Ravenna, Philadelphia, Chaldea to Bassorah.
D. i Sun Sun Moon
M. rises. sets. South.
10 3
11 3
IS 3
E4
14 4
15 4
16 4
17 4
18 4
19 4
E4
21 4
22 4
23 4
24 4
25 4
26 4
E4
28 4
29 4
30 4
31 4
57 8
58 8
59 8
08
1 8
28
38
58
68
78
88
10 8
11 8
12 8
14 7
15 7
17 7
18 7
20 7
21 7
22 7
24 ¡7
WEATHER PREDICTIONS—July, 1873.
Thunder storms and mischievous lightning will
commence the month: dashing rains prevail. 3rd
to the 5th, smart showers and some squalls; 6th and
7th, warm and fair, large white clouds prevail, and
some thunder; 8th to 11th, unsettled, clouds and
showers frequent; 12th to 14th, fair, warm air, St.
Swithin showery; 16th to 18th, fair generally, 20th
to 22nd, cloudy, some dashing rains and thunder;
24th to 26th, rainy, cool air; 27tb, fairer; 29th to
the end, unsettled, sudden heavy rains frequent.—
A fair summer month; good harvest weather; not
very hot, however.
13 mo rn.
VOICE OF THE STARS—July, 1873.
13 0 54 The benefic Jupiter enters Virgo on the 7th day;
12 1 55 hence Turkey, Paris, Lyons, &c., will have peace.
11 2 53 But, although Saturn quits Aquarius on the 13th, we
10 3 46 still find Uranus ruling over France; and, no doubt,
punishes that
to
9 4 36 he thereinhelpless men of nation for its cruelties are
Africa.
8 5 24 wards the crystal, the greatest sinCruelty is, we
told in the
against Heaven.
7 6 12 And undoubtedly it seems so, as being the most
6 7 1 directly opposed to the religion of love. Mars flames
5 7 51 potently from Scorpio, his house, all this month;
4 8 42 and on the 12th day he will be in square to Uranus.
as also in
2 9 36 Mischief may tl en be looked for in France, accidents
Barbary, and other places (see p. 23) ; and
1 10 30 abound then in Liverpool. Near this petiod there
0 11 23 | are some ill transits for the Geiman Emperor; who
59 0al4 ' may expect this summer to suffer thiough females.
57 1 2 ! The above aspect of Mars will bring troubles and
56 1 48 I family losses to all born on the 28th July and near it.
born
to the
August will
54 2 30 iI Those health from the 22ndsuccess; 28thwill all who
have
and general
as
53 3 11 ! were born with the end of Leo, or first degrees of
51 3 50ij Virgo rising, or with the Moon in those parts of the
50 4 30l| Zodiac. Let them, therefore, push their fortunes,
’
48 5 11 and ensure prosperity.
�18
MOON’S CHANGES, &c.
First Quar. 1st,
Full Moon, 8th,
Last Quar. 15th,
¡New Moon, 23rd,
¡First Quar. 31st,
h. m.
D.M.
2 29 aft.
152 aft.
1st
4 41m.
1 30 m. 7th
3 48 m. 13th
Perigee, 9<1. llh. m.—Apogee, 19th
25th
2 Id. 5h. m.
D. D.
of of
M. w.
[zadkiel’s
AUGUST XXXI Days.
Ipsouths ^.souths ¿souths J souths
11.
11
10
10
10
9
m.
21a.
55
30
5
40
Remarkable Days,
Planetary Aspects, &c., &c.
h.
tn.
1 47 a.
1 28
1 9
0 51
0 32
h. m.
6
5
5
5
5
3 a.
51
41
31
22
h.
m.
8 56 m
8 59
9 4
9 9
9 13
0’s f D rises H. W.
J rises H. W.
Long.
and sets Lon. B.
m, h
o
/ I 1 h. nl> h.- m9ft 14 8 10 a.4')i 6m45
1 F. hammas Day. \ d $ 11 46 a
0
««
10 11| 9110 59 7 26
2 s. Dpd. ¿. Day break 1 36
9 10 11 25 8 21
11
3 5. 8 S. af. ®r. 5 -X- Î
0 9 31
6 11 12
4 M. ? p. d. Ip. y rises 3 66 morn. 12
9
cl.
4 12 morn. ¡10 44
5 Tn. 9 150° Ip. Twilight ends 10 24 13
1 13 0 58 11 67
72° Ip. Cl. f. 5m 36s 14
6 W. Transf.
9 1 a. 1
7 Th. Narneof Jeszts. $ 36° iff. h ô b 14 69 14 2
56 15 3 37 1 55
[9 30 m.
F. Ip sets 3 5 m.
8
54 16 rises. 2 45
9 S. ? 135° ¿. If. sets 8 17 aft.
61 17 8 a. 56 3 33
9 Sun. aft. ®r.
p. d. iff 72° Iff
10
49 18 9 12 4 16
11 M. J sets 10 3 a. Dog days end
47 19 9 28 4 69
12 Tu. ©□<?. ? p. d. If, 45° P
44 20 9 44 5 44
13 VV. 0 Ö ? • Î -X-^. 3 □ <?
2 6m 7
42 21 10
14 Th. $ rises 1 3 mom. Day 14 38 1.
15 F. Assump. B. F. M. Nt. 9 26 long 22 40 22 10 251 6 61
16 S. $ rises 4 35 m. Iff son. 11 0 m 23 37 23:10 55 7 40
24 35 24 11 34 8 44
17 !S. 10 Sunhap after ®rin. $ 36° $
5
lb M. tg. rises 3 6 m. Clock fast 3m 35s 25 33 25 morn. 10
19 Tu. 0 p. d. ÿ . J p. d. Ip • J d Î 5 26 31261 0 24 11 27
20 W. 0 150° • h sets 2 13 m. [28 m. 27 29 27 1 26 Oa.37
21 Th. î p. cl. & . D 6 Iff 4 42 morn. ¡28 26 28 2 34 1 27
1Î
12 F. I If. sets 7 3 ) aft. Nt. 9 51 long 29_ 2429 3 45
23 S. 1 (J p. cl. I?. £ stat, j) <3 If. 8 52 0Hß22N. sets, i 2 46i
" '
24 S. 11 Sunttag after ®rinttp. St B. [a. 1 20 1 7 a. 56 3 18'
2 18 2 8 8J 3 47
-X-1?. Clock fast lm £ 2s
25 M.
3 16 3 8 20( 4 16
26 Tn. 0144° Ip. Day 13 51 long
*
27 W. J sets 9 23 a. Night 10 10 long 4 14 4 8 31 4 4‘
St. Augustine. J rises 1 21 morn. 5 12 5 8 45 5 14
28 Th.____________________
6 10 6 9
29 F. Si. John Baptist beh. J 45° If.
7
3O1S.? 8 >?■ " ' - " 42 aft.
-----m 1
31 5. 12 Sun. after ®r. $ sou. 10 51 m.8
�AUGUST, 1873.
’•]
August.—First two Sundays’ lists of electors on church
doors. 20th, last day for claim to vote, or leaving notice
of objections. Rates, &c., due 1st March to be paid.
Lunar Influences.
The 2nd, 11th, loth, 25th, 29th, Saturn
T
Is in
„ 1st, Sth, 13th, 18th, 23rd, 28th, Jupiter
good
,, 6th, 10th, 19th, 24th, Mars
I aspect
,, 3rd, 12th, 17th, 28th, the Sun
[ with the
„ 9th, 13th, 18th, 24th, 29th Venus
I Moon.
,, 4th, 12th, 16th, 21st, 26th, 31st,Mercury > See p. 35.
The sign l-'irpo rules Turkey, Mesopotamia, from the
Tigris to the Euphrates, Jerusalem, Candia, Silesia, Croatia,
Bagdad, Babylonia, Thessaly, Corinth, the Morea, Paris,
Lyons, Toulouse, Basil, Switzerland, Reading, West Indies.
D. 8 an s un Mo on
M. riijes. Sets. South.
m.
47 5a 54
45 6 41
44 7 32
42 8 29
40 9 30
38 10 34
37 11 37
35 mo rn.
33 0 37
31 1 34
29 2 27
27 3 18
25 4 7
23 4 57
21 5 47
19 6 39
17 7 32
15 8 26
13 9 19
11 10 11
9 10 59
7 11 45
5 0a29
3 1 10
1 1 49
59 2 29
57 3 9
54 3 51
52 4 35
50 5 21
48 6 16
h. m. h. m.
1 4
24
E4
44
54
64
7 4
84
94
E4
11 4
12 4
13 4
14 4
15 4
16 4
E4
18 4
19 4
20 4
21 4
22 4
23 5
E5
25 5
26 5
27 "o
28 5
29 5
30 5
E l5
25 7
27 7
28 7
30 7
31 7
33 7
35 7
36 7
38 7
39 7
41 7
42 7
44 7
46 7
47 7
49 7
50 7
52 7
53 7
55 7
57 I7
58 7
07
1 7
37
5 ¡6
66
86
96
11 6
13 6
h.
WEATHER PREDICTIONS—Avgust, 1873.
The 1st and 2nd days heat prevails; 3rd to 5th,
cloudy, some rain; 7th, showers; 9th and 10th, fair
and warm ; 12th and 13th, heat and thunder gene
rally, dangerous lightning; 14th to 18th, settled and
fair, good harvest weather in general, ] Sth and 20th,
rainy, unsettled; 21st and 22nd, fairer; 23rd, some
thunder about; 25th and 26th, cloudy, cool air; 27th
to 29th, fair; 30th, heavy, dashing rain, and haii
also; 31st, warm air.—A flair month generally, except
about the 12t7i and 13i4 days.
VOICE OF THE STARS—Avgust, 1873.
The Emperor of Austria has an unfortunate biith- !
day, since we find Mars in square to his Sun; which !
gives him quarrels with his neighbours, and some
sudden changes in his affairs. The King of Bavaria |
has the Sun joined with Jupiter on the anniversary 1
of tbe day when he was born. This will bring him
hea th, and is good influence for his affairs genera lv.
It will render him rather more peaceful than usual.
Mars flames fiercely in Scorpio, and we may look
for news of outbreaks in Barbary, Norway, Syria,
&c. But Turkey flourishes, and Paris is peaceful.
The retrograding of Saturn in Capricorn seems to
destroy the equanimity of Greece. On the 30th day
Mars will leave Scorpio, and, entering Sagitta ius,
will soon begin to trouble Spain with violence and
bloodshed. All born from the 28th August to the
4th September will now flourish and enjoy health I
Those born on the 12th August must beware of fire, !
and take care to avoid fevers, and hurts or accidents |
to the delicate parts of the person. This transit of
Mars through Scorpio will bring mischief to the docks, j
and collisions, &e., in and near Liverpool, where
there will be many bankruptcies, and an abundance I
of fraud and knavery practised.
I
�20
SEPTEMBER XXX Days,
MOON’S CHANGES, &c.
D.M.
h. m.
Pull Mood, 6th, 9 9 aft.
Last Quar. 13th, 3 40 aft. 1st
New Moon, 21st, 5 51 aft. 7th
First Quar. 29 th, 2 56 aft. 13th
Perigee, 6d. 8h. a.—Apogee, 19th
25th
20d. 8h. m.
D. D.
of of
M. w.
[zadkiel’s
»2 souths If SOUths cf souths J souths
. m.
Ila.
46
22
58
34
Remarkable Days,
Planetary Aspects, &c., &c.
h.
0
11
11
11
10
m.
10 a.
51m
32
14
55
h.
5
5
4
4
4
m.
13 a.
5
58
52
46
h.
9
9
9
9
9
m.
20m
25
30
35
40
D rises H.W.
Long. si and sets Lon. B
I__ _ B.
h. m. h. m.
©
/
1 M. Giles. 0 p. d. 1/.
ris. 2 16 m. 9W 4 9 10 a. 40 7m32
2 10( 11 43 8 47
2 Tu. I? sets 1 18 m. Clock si. 0m 31s 10
11
1 11 morn. 10 16
3 W. J <5 Ip 5 21 aft. Day br. 3 12
2 11 43
4 Th. O 3 If, 135° T?. Night 10 40 1. 11 59 12 1
12 57 13 2 33 Oa.48
5 F. Old Bartholomew. $ 150° Ip
6 S. J p. d. $, A . Twi. ends 8 38 13 55 14 rises. 1 44
75. 13 Sun. af. ®rin. Enur. 0 36° Jg 14 53 15 7 a.16 2 29
2 36° 15 52 16 7 31 3 12
8 M. AcWw. B. V. M. 5 144° Ip .
9 Tu. If rises 5 3 m. Cl. si. 2 m 51s [2f 16 50 17 7 47 3 54
17 48 18 8 4 4 35
10 W. 2 3$. Day deer. 3 37
11 Th. £ sets 8 51 a. Night 11 7 long 18 47 19 8 27 6 13
19 45 20 8 54 5 54
12 F. g □ 3'. 2 rises 1 52 morn
20 44 21 9 30 6m 15
13 S. ¿J' A $. Day 12 45 long
3
14 s. 14 55. a. ®iin. Holy Cross. 2 in S3 21 42 22 10 18 7
8
D-X-24 0 42 aft. 22 41 23 11 17 8
15 M. $ 3 4, 36°
<J45°I?. gp.d. 2f 23 39 24 mo rn. 9 39
16 Tu. 0 45°
24 38 25 0 25 11 10
17 W. Ember Week. J 3 Ig 1 27 aft.
25 37 26 1 36 Oa .22
IS Th. 7f 36°$. 3 52 83 morn.
26 35 27 2 46 1 12
19 F. 0 A Ip . Clock slow 6m 21s
27 34 28 3 57 1 49
D 3
3 2 a.
20 S. $ 36°
J 11 5m. 28 33 N. se ts. 2 19
21 s. 15 Sun. after ®r. 5
22 M. 0 ent. === 11 35 a. $ rises 5 30 m 29 32 1 6 a .28 2 47
0A30 2 6 39 3 16
23 Tu. 0 36° 2 • Day 12 6 long
1 29 3 6 51 3 44
24 W. 0 p. d. $ . 2 150° Ip • <? □ 4
2 28 4 7
7 4 12
25 Th. 0 3 g . 2 rises 2 27 morn.
3 27 5 7 27 4 41
26 F. St. Cyprian. Clock slow 8m 46s
4 26 6 7 53 5 13
27 S. £ 72° $. Night 12 10 long
28 s. 16 S. a. ®r. 0 p. d. $ . J 3 <? 5 25 7 8 32 5 50
29 ,M. Michaelmas D. 2 144° Ip [7 10 m 6 24 8 9 25 6m 11
30 Tu. St. Jerome. Ip station. ¿f 36° Ip 1 7 23 9 I10 36 7 5
�SEPTEMBER, 1873.
LALMANAC.J
21
September 1st. Last day for Overseers to send lists to
Clerk of Peace. British Museum closes. 8th, Opens from
10 till 4. Insurance due 30th instant and India bonds.
Lunar Influences.
The 7th, 11th, 21st, 26th, Saturn
1
Is in
2nd, 10th, 15th, 20th, 25th, 30th, Jupiter
good
4th, Sth, 17th, 22nd, Mars
k aspect
2nd, 10th, 15th, 27th, the Sun
with the
8th, 12th, 17th, 23rd, 28th, Venus
Moon.
__ ... 35.
10th, 15th, 21st, 27th, Mercury
See p.
The sign Libra rules China, Japan, parts of India near
„ China, Austria, Bactriana, Usbeck, Upper Egypt, Livonia,
the Caspian Sea, Vienna, Lisbon, Antwerp, Frankfort,
Spires and Charleston.
tD. Sun Sun Moon
M rises. sets. South.
WEATHER PREDICTIONS.—September, 1873.
i
h. tn. h. m. h. m.
Fair and warm at first. 3rd and 4th, thunder
1 5 14 6 46 7a 14 storms prevalent; 6th, rainy; 7th to 9th, fair in
2 5 16 6 43 8 15 general; 10th, showers; 12th and 13th, windy, ra
3 5 17 6 41 9 17 ther unsettled; 15th and 16th, a stormy period,
<4 5 19 6 39 19 18 lightning and meteors. 17th and 18th, fairer; 19th,
fair;
and 23rd,
5 5 21 6 37 11 16 cloudy, cool air; 20th and 21st, storms22nd dangerous
warm ; 24th and 25th, thunder
and
6 5 22 6 34 morn. lightning; 27th and 28th, fair; 29th and 30th,
E 5 24 6 32 0 12 clouds and heavy rains prevail. — The first week fair
8 5 25 6 30 1 5 and u-arni; the month, in general (except about the
9 5 27 6 28 1 56 15th and 16th), favourable for harvest work.
10 5
11 5
12 5
13 5
iE 5
15 5
16 5
17 5
l18 5
5
20 5
E5
22 5
'23 5
24 5
25 5
826 5
127 5
|E 5
¡29 5
B0 6
29 6
30 6
32 6
33 6
35 6
37 6
38 6
40 6
41 6
43 6
44 6
46 6
48 5
49 5
51 5
53 5
54 5
56 5
57 5
59 5
15
25
23
21
18
16
14
12
9
7
5
2
0
57
55
53
51
48
46
44
42
39
2 47
3 39
4 32
5 26
6 21
7 15
8 7
8 57
9 44
10 27
11 9
11 49
0a29
1 8
1 50
2 33
3 20
4 10
5 5
6 3
7 5
VOICE OF THE STARS—September, 1873.
The malefic Saturn hangs about the 26th degree of
the sign Capricorn, in which the Moon was found
when the Emperor of Germany was born. This will
bring him troubles and some sickness of a lingering
nature. But as Jupiter was on his ascendant on his
last birthday, it may be hoped it will be nothing
very serious. In fact, the terminus seems to extend
to the Sun’s conjunction with Saturn, about the 79th
year. The King of Sweden has Jupiter coming to
his ascendant; which will mitigate his normal condi
tion of grief and vexations. On the 15th day Mars
will pass the ascendant of the King of Italy. Let him
avoid dangers to his person at that time; hurts
in hunting, more especially.
He has, however,
M.C. trine Sun = 52° 48', lately gone by; and this
will bring honoursand advantages to Italy. He will
be very much given to fight and quarrel. Jupiter in
Virgo gives peace to Paris. But Mars in Sagittarius
brings Spain quarrels and bloodshed. Saturn in
Capricorn troubles Greece, Oxford, Brussels, &c.,
&c., and all born on the 4th to 10th September
flourish. Those born in mid-January suffer.
�22
OCTOBER XXXI Days.
MOON’S CHANGES, &c.
h. m.
D.M.
[zadkiel’s
¡2 souths H. souths $ souths ? souths
h.
5 31 m.
1st
6 25 m. 7th 7
10 55 m. 13th 6
6
0 10 m.
Perigee, 5d. 7h. m.—Apogee, 19th 6
25th 5
17 d 4h. a.
m.
Full Moon,
Last Quar.
NewMoon,
First Quar.
6 th,
13th,
21st,
29 th,
D. D.
of of
M. w.
Remarkable Days,
Planetary Aspects, &c,, &c.
10 a.
47
24
1
38
h.
10
10
9
9
9
m.
h. m.
0’s
&o D rises H.W.
36 m
17
58
39
19
4
4
4
4
4
40 a.
35
30
26
22
h.
9
9
9
9
9
m.
44 m
48
52
55
59
<o 1
» and sets Lon. B
A
h. Hl, h. irt
8=^=22 10 morn. 8m 2?
1 w. Remigius. Cam. Term begins
0 10 3
5p.d.l[. Cl. si. 10m 9 21 11 0
2 Th.
rises 0 13 m. D. br. 4 13 [43s 10 20 12 1 31 11 32
3 F.
2 Oa.34
11 19 13 3
4 S. 0 72°^. \ sets 11 5 aft.
12 19 14 4 34 1 32
5 s. 17 Sunbap aftrr 0huutp
2
13 18 15 rises. 2
Op. d.2|. <?135°$
6 M.
7 Tu. 2 135° T? . 5 p. d. 2 • Day dec. 5 23 14 17 16 6 a. 7 2 43
15 16 17 6 26 3 25
8 W. « 36° 21. Cl. si. 12m 29s. 8 in
5
9 Th St. Denys. £ □ 1? . Day 113 long 16 16 18 6 52 4
10 F. Oxford Term begins. 0 p. d. ? 17 15 19 7 24 4 43
9 5 25
11 S. Old Mich. Day. $ 36° $. 21 rises 18 14 20 8
5 5m48
12 s. 18 S.af. ®ri. Least twi. [3 36 m. 19 14 21 9
13 M. Trans. K. Edw. $ sets 8 9 aft. 20 13 22 10 11 6 36
10 8a. 21 13 23 11 22 7 40
14 Tu. 2 ris. 3 21 m. }
15 W. ®72°W. 2d,&P-d. 21. Mt.l3|22 12 24 morn. 9 12
16 Th. $ 45° 2 • Clock s. 14m 26s. [20 1. 23 12 25 0 34 10 43
24 12 26 1 45 11 54
17 F. Etheldreda. $ sets 5 22 aft.
18 S. St. Luke. $□$. ])d2197m. 25 11 27 2 56 0 &. 3S
4 1 I«
0 □ b- 2 Ab45°$ 26 11 28 4
19 S. 19 S. a.
20 M. 2 rises 3 39 m. Night 13 40 1. 27 11 29 5 13 1 46
28 11 N. sets. 2 12
21 Tu. g 72° b • Day 10 17 long
29 10 1 5 a. 14 2 43
22 W. 5 p. d. J£. D d $ 11 44 aft.
23 Th. tjt rises 10 59 a. Cl. si. 15m 36s oiriio 2 5 31 3 14
1 10 3 5 56 3 44
24 F. b sets 9 48 a. 21 rises 3 0 m.
2 10 4 6 31 4 IS
25 S. Crispin. Night 13 58 long
3 10 5 7 19 4 56
26 «. 20 Stinifap afttr ®x(nitp
4 10 6 8 23 5 32J
27 M. »¿21. J d ^2 16 morn.
28 Tu. 150° $. £ p. d. b • D d b 8 34 5 10 7 9 41 5m55
7 6 5a
29 W. $ sets 8 2 aft. Cl. si. 16m 10s [m. 6 10! 8 11
7 10 9 morn. 8 14
30 Th B -X-i? • 2 rises 4 9 morn8 10 10 0 34 9 48
*
souths 6 14 morn.
31 Fr. ? -X $ •
Long.
�OCTOBER, 1873.
ALMANAC.
23
October 1st to 15th, Burgess lists to be revised. Insu
rance to be paid by 13th. Dividends payable on 14th, 15th;
Quarter Sessions.
Lunar Influences.
The 5th, 8th, 18th, 23rd, Saturn
\ Is in
„ 8th, 12th, 18th, 23rd, 27th, Jupiter
i good
,, 2nd, 6th, 16th, 21st, 31st, Mars
( aspect
,, 1st, 10th, 15th, 26th, goth, the Sun
( with the
„ 7th, 12th, 18th, 23rd, 28th, Venus
} Moon.
,, 1st, 11th, 16th, 22nd, 28th, Mercury
J Seep. 35.
The sign Scorpio rules Barbary, Morocco, Norway,
ancient Palestine, a part of Syria, Valentia, Catalonia,
Messina, Frankfort, Cappadocia and Liverpool.
D. 1 Sun Sun Moon
M. rises. sets. South.
h.
16
26
36
46
E6
66
76
86
96
10 6
11 6
E6
13 6
14 6
15 6
16 6
17 6
18 6
E6
20 6
21 6
22 6
23 6
24 6
25 6
E6
27 6
28 6
29 6
30 6
31 6
m h.
25
45
65
75
95
11 5
12 5
14 5
16 5
17 5
19 5
21 5
23 5
24 5
26 5
28 5
29 5
31 4
33 4
35 4
36 4
38 4
40 4
42 4
43 4
45 4
47 4
49 4
50 4
52 4
54 4
m. h. m.
37 8a 21
35 9 0
32 9 55
30 10 48
28 11 40
26 morn.
23 0 32
21 1 25
19 2 19
17 3 14
15 4 11
12 5 7
10 6 1
8 6 53
6 7 41
4 8 25
1 9 8
59 9 48
57 10 28
55 11 7
53 11 48
51 0a31
49 1 17
47 2 7
45 3 1
43 3 57
41 4 56
39 5 54
37 6 50
35 7 44
34 8 36
WEATHER PREDICTIONS—October, 1873.
Changes at first and meteors at night; 4th warm ;
6th fair and warm; 7th cloudy7, some showers; 9th
and 10th cloudy, showery and windy; 11th to 13th
fair generally; 15th fair, white clouds prevail; 16th
misty and damp air; 18th and 19th cool air, rainy
and windy; 21st to 23rd fairer, seasonable; 24th to
26th tolerably fair; 27th windy, meteors at night;
28th cloudy, cool and rather unsettled ; 30th and 31st
cool, cloudy, windy.—A seasonable month ; no extreme
of weather, except on and about the YDth.
VOICE OF THE STARS—October, 1873.
.Again is the evil star Saturn stationary in Capricorn.
Therein he brings all kinds of sore troubles for the
lands ruled by that sign : these are chiefly India,
Mexico, parts of Persia, about Circan, &c., Greece,
Oxford and Bulgaria. Now we know that Mexico
has been completely revolutionized since he has been
in the sign; and in India many troubles, of most
serious character, have arisen, such as the Pooka
rising ; where full twenty villages have been utterly
destroyed and 65 poor wretches have been blown
away fiom guns, to convince the people of the
paternal nature of English government. Also the
murder of the Governor General of Indiahas occurred.
In Persia a grievous famine has raged ; Bulgaria has
been the scene of very numerous grievances. Oxford
has been unlucky in many ways, and Greece only has
Either to escaped. On the 15th a conjunction of Jupiter
and Venus, in the 21st degree of Virgo, will benefit
Paris, Turkey and the West Indies, &c. Let all born
on or near the 16th January, any year, beware of
colds and troubles through old persons, buildings,
landlords, &c. Those born the 13th August will gain
in health and wealth. Those born near the middle
of June will be liable to losses and hurts the first
week of this month.
�24
NOVEMBER XX]C Days.
MOON’S CHANGES, &c. D.M. b souths
h. m.
h. m.
Full Moon 4th, 3 48 aft.
1st 5 12 a.
Last Quar. 12 th, 0 48 m.
New Moon, 20th, 3 37 m. 7th 4 50
First Quar. 27th, 8 13 m. 13th 4 28
6
Perigee,2d. lh. a.—Apogee.lid. 19th 4
9h.in —Perigee, SOd 3h. in.
25th 3 45
[zadkiel’s
If souths J souths ? souths
*
h.
8
8
8
7
7
h. Hl.
h. m.
4 17à. 1 0 3m
4 12 1 0 7
4 8 1 0 11
4 4 1 0 16
3 59 1 0 21
a>
D. D.
bo
Remarkable Days,
®’s <1 J rises H.W.
Planetary Aspects, &c., &c.
Long. JDQ and sets Lon. B.
M w.
«
h. m. h. mJ
1 s. All Saints. 0 45°
9 P. d. 21 91Î110 11 2m. 4 llmlO
2 s. 21 Sun. at ®r. Mich. T.b. 0 □ H 10 10 12 3 32 Oa. 10
3 M. H r. 10 16 aft. Cl. slow 16m 18s 11 10 13 4 59 0 56
4 Tu. D ecl. partly vis. at Gr. D. hr. 5 5 12 10 14 rises. 1 38
5 W.
Night 14 38 long
13 11 15 4 a. 49 2 20
6 Th. Leonard. § 72° If, p. d. $
1
14 11 16 5 19 3
7 F. © 72° b • b pets 8 57 aft.
15 11 17 5 57 3 41
8 8. Cam. T. div. noon. C'J. si. 16m 6s 16 11 18 6 50 4 22
9 5. 22 Sunhap after ®rf. B. of P. of IE 17 12 19 7 54 5
4
10 M. 24 45°W. ?72°W. 8 A W
18 12 20 9
5 5 51
11 Tu. St. Martin. J
ÿ 6 43 morn
19 12 21 10 18 6m 14
12 W. 5 45° b • 71 rises 2 3 morn
20 13 22 11 30 7
9
13 Th. Britius. 0 p.d. W' f sets 8 3 a. 21 13 23 morn. 8 28
14 F. Î □ b • Clock slow 15m 22s
22 14 24 0 41 9 49
15 S. Machutus. D 21 2 35 morn
23 14 25 1 51,10 56
16 3. 23 Sun. af. ®r. 8 45° 2 . H sta. 24 15 26 3
0 11 51
17 M. Hugh. $ rises 5 5 morn
25 15 27 4 10 Oa.32
18 Tu. D ô 2 2 57 m, Twi. ends 6 5 m. 26 16 28 5 23 1
8
19 W.
27 17 29 6 38 1 43
20 Th. 0 ecl. inv. at Gr. 0-X-b • <? 8 h 28 17 N. sets. 2 15
21 F. D <5 8 2 48 aft. Cl. si. 13m 53s 29 18 1 4 a. 30 2 49
22 S. St. Cecilia. $ seta 4 42 aft.
0119 2 5 15 3 23
23^. 24 Sunbap after Œrfnftp. St. Clem. 1 19 3 6 15 4
0
24 M. ? □¥, 5 45° <7. D ô Z 10 0 a.
2 20 4 7 29 4 40 j
26. Tu. Mich. T. ends. 0 p. d. b
3 21 5 8 54 5 26
26 W. 0 p. d, J1. 8 45° b- 2 45° 21
4 22 6 10 20 5 m52 !
27( Th. p. d. b.
sou. 4 28 m. 8 in
5 22 7 11 46 6 52i
28 ! F. ? souths 0 11 a. Cl..si. 11m 45s 6 23 8 morn. 8
2
29| S. ©p.d.$ . 8 AH, 72° 21 . 2 72°b 7 24. 9I 1 12, 9 20
10 S. 1 3. in •a». 0 rf J • 5 P- d T?
8 25 10 2 36 10 33
m.
57m
37
17
57
37
�NOVEMBER, 1873.
VLMANAO.]
November 1st, Borough Councillors elected. 9th, Mayor
ad Aidermen elected Birthday of the Prince of Wales.
Lunar Influences.
Is in
The 2nd, 5th, 15th, 19th, 28th, Saturn
good
,, 5th, 9th, 14th, 20th, 24th, Jupiter
aspect
„ 4th, 14th. 19th, 29th, Mars
with the
,, 9th, 14th, 25th, 29th, the Sun
Moon.
,, 7th, 12th, 17th, 23rd, 27th, Venus
,, 1st, 11th. 16th, 21st, 25th, 29th, Mercury
See p. 35.
The sign SagittariMs rules Arabia Felix, Spain, Hungary,
parts near Cape Finisterre, Istria, Dalmatia, Tuscany,
Moravia, Sclavonia, Cologne, Avignon, Buda and Nar
bonne.
~8
D. un 1S un Moon
M. ri ses. S(its. South. ¡WEATHER PREDICTIONS—November, 1873.
h. m. h.
16
E6
36
47
57
67
77
87
E7
10 7
11 7
12 7
13 7
14 7
15 7
E7
17 7
18 7
19 7
20 7
21 7
22 7
E7
24 7
25 7
26 7
27 7
28 7
29 7
E7
56 4
5« 4
59 4
14
34
54
64
84
10 4
12 4
14 4
15 4
17 4
19 4
21 4
22 4
24 4
26 4
27 4
29 4
31 4
32 4
34 3
36 3
37 3
39 3
40 3
42 3
43 3
45 3
m.
32
30
28
26
25
23
21
20
18
16
15
13
12
11
9
8
6
5
4
3
2
0
59
58
57
56
55
55
54
63
m. The month begin? fair and. mild ; 2nd cool and
rainy; 7th
air;
9a27, changeable; 4th and 5thwindy; lltlicloudy, cool cold,
12th
10 17 9th and 10th unsettled, ; 14th co’d, and and snow ;
some snow in the month
fog
11 91 16th rain, unsettled, many changes; 18th and 19th
morn.■ fair for the season, mild air; 2dth stormy, colder,
0 2I some snow showers : very high winds ; 22nd and 23rd
0 57'.more temperate; 24th and 25th stormy, snow fa'ls ;
26th and 27th
at intervals; 29th
1 55J and 30th stormv still windy, fair air —A fair month,
and cold, frosty
2 53'\rather dr</; bitt very stormy and unsettled about the
3 50 Eclipse of the San.
4 44
5 34 j VOICE OF THE STARS—November, 1873.
6 21 The furious Mars is now raging in Capricorn; and
7 4 I bringing bloodshed in all those places under the rule
see p 27. On
last month he
7 45 I'Of that sign;first house, with athe 7th popular Prince,
entered the
certain
8 25 | whom I counsel to be very guarded about his health
9 5 at present; as the moon on the 9th will be in opposi
9 45 tion of Mars, and this evil aspect falls opposite to the
10 27 place of Mars at birth. He is moreover “ liable to
11 13 inflammatory comp'aints,” as stated page 7 of the ;
“Handbook of Astrolozy,” vol.
However, as
0a 2 Jupiter draws up to the place of II. Moon, I trust *
the
1
0 55 he will escape anything serious at this period. On 1
1 52 I the 20th there will be a conjunction of Saturn and
2 50 Mars in the 29ch degree of Capricorn. Fortunately
3 49 we find Jupiter in trine aspect thereto, which miti-,
mischief. Yet will they rain down storms,
4 46 gates their earthquakes and warlike doings on the
tempests,
5 40 i people ruled bv Capricorn, and partly those under the
6 31 rule of Aquarius. On the 16tn Uranus stationary in
7 21 the ruling sign of France opens up a new list of
8 9 troubles, accidents and deeds of violence therein.
8 58 Births on the 1st to 3rd August will suffer by |
deaths of relations.
h.
C
�DECEMBER XXXI Days.
[zadkiel’s
MOON’S CHANGES, &c. D. M. \ souths H. souths (J souths 2 souths
h. m.
h. m.
h. m.
h. m.
1. m.
Full Moon, 4th, 4 20 m.
LastQnar. 11th, 9 54 aft. 1st
New Moon, 19th, 6 49 aft. 7th
First Quar. 26th, 4 5 aft. 18th
Apogee, 12d. 6h m.—Perigee, 19 th
24d. 9h. a.
25th
D.
of
w.
3
3
2
2
1
23 a.
2
41
20
59
Remarkable Days,
Planetary Aspects, &c., &c.
7
6
6
6
5
16m
55
34
12
51
3
3
3
3
8
<D
hr
55 a.
50
45
39
34
10
10
10
10
10
27m
34
41
49
58
I
I
®’s
J rises H.W.
Long. 00 and sets Lon. B.
*
<=
h. m. h. m
1 M. $ p. d. <?. f r. 8 26 a. ? in p. 9 t 2R 11 4m 1 llm35
2 Tu. © A
72r 4.
Daybr. 10 26 12 5 29 Oa.28
3 W. b sets 7 25 a. Twi. e. 5 56 [5 43 11 27 13 6 55 1 16
4 Th. If rises 0 55 m. Clock si. 9m 29s 12 98 14 rises 2
2
5 F. <? sets 8 12 a. Day deer. 8 35
13 29 15 4 a »6 2 46
6 S. Nicholas. ® 45° 1?, $ g I£I
14 30 16 5 35 3 28
7 5. 2 Sunbap tn ^biunt. J p. d.
15 31 17 6 45 4 11
8 M Con. B. V. M. £ p. d «S'. D d $ 16 32 18 7 59 4 51
9 Tu.
P- d.$. ? >|< I?, * 2£. %J72
17 33 19 9 13 5 33
0 W. ? 6 ? • 5 stat. Night 16 9 long 18 34 20 10 25 5m55
11 Th. ? 72° . Cl. slow 6m 24s
19 35 2! 11 34 6 42
12 F. 3,135°2{. 5p. d.<J. J <5 If 6 6 a. 20 36 22 morn.
7 31
13 S. Lucy. $ rises 6 27 morn
21 37 23 0 43 8 35
11 s. 3 Sun. in "abb. $ p. d.
22 38 24 1 52 9 41
15 M. 5 rises 6 1 morn. Day 7 47 long 23 39 25 3 4 10 41
16 Tu. Cam. T. ends. ® 135°#, 36c 1?. $ 24 40 26 4 18 11 38
17 W. Ember IF. Oxf. Term, e. [p. d. H 25 41 27 5 34 Oa.25
lb Th. ? A #. Dd ? 0 33 m.; d ? 26 42 28 6 53 1
7
19 F. Clock slow 2m 32s
[11 33 m 27 44 N. sets. 1 50
20 S.
Night 16 15 long
28 45 1 4a. 3 2 3c
21 S 4 Sttnbap in 'glbimnt. ® ent. py 5 29 46 2 5 14 3 11
22 M. ©□4- t ci
4 9m.
[32 a. oyj 47 3 6 39 3 55
23 Tu. 5 A
? 45° 1?. J) <5 J 5 54 a 1 48 4 8
6 4 38
24 w. If ris 11 43 a. $ sets 8 23 a.
2 49 5 9 33 5 27
25 Th. Christmas ©ap. ® 144°$. J 144° 3 51 6 10 59 5m 51
2f F. St.Ste. Cl. f. Om 58s. [4. 5 72°4 4 52 7 morn. 6 42
27 8. St. John Evan. J ris. 7 5 morn,
5 53 8 0 23 7 38
2> 5. 1 Sun. af. ©fj. Innocents. 5 45° l? 6 54 9 1 45 8 45
2M M ? ¡35°^. 5 ris. 6 36 n orn
7 55 10 3 10 9 52
30 Tu. ® p. d. ? . J 36° . Nt. 16 11 1. 8 56 11 4 35 11
1
31 W. Silvester.
souths 2 11m.
9 57 12 5 58 Oa. 5
�ALMANAC.]
DECEMBER, 1873.
27
Dkckmbhk 25th, Insurance due. Make merry, yet
“serve the Lord with gladnessand “give alms:* you
1'
will not repent this on your deathbed.
Lunar Influences.
The 2nd, 12th, 17th, 26th, 30th. Saturn
V Is in
3rd, 7th, 12th, 17th, 21st, 30th, Jupiter
good
3rd. 13th, 18th, 28th. Mars
k aspect
with the
9th, 14th, 24th, 28th, the Sun
Moon.
7th, 12th, 18th. 23rd. 27th, Venus
7th, 12th, 17th, 22nd, 27th, Mercury
- Seep. 35.
The sign Capricorn rules India, Greece, parts of Persia
about Circan and Maracan. Chorassan, Lithuania, Saxony,
Mexico, Mecklenburg, the Orkney Islands, Albania,
Oxford, Hesse, Bulgaria, Styria and Brussels.
Sun Moon
sets. South. I WEATHER PREDICTIONS—December, 1873.
h. m. h. m. h. m. | Fair, but cold and windy at first; 2nd meteors or
4th and
gloomv ; 6th
1 7 46 3 53 9a49 lightning ; stormy , 5th dull, cloudy and snow and fog,
snow falls,
8th to 10th stormy,
2 7 4b 3 52 10 42 but fair at intervals; 12th and 13th fair, but many
3 7 49 3 51 11 38 changes; 14th some snow; 16th changes, damp air;
4 7 50 3 51 morn. 18th rainy; 20th fair; 22nd fair, but high winds pre
5 7 52 3 50 0 36 vail ; 23rd rain and fog; 25th fair, meteors seen, a
6 7 53 3 50 1 34 green Christmas; 27th and 28th colder, frosty air ; 30th
and
E 7 54 3 50 2 31 Ii to the end fog and rain prevail.-—On the 12thwhich
13z7i both Saturn and Jupiter change their sign ;
8 7 55 3 49 3 24 brings sure changes in the atmosphere. After the
9 7 56 3 49 4 13 first week, a tolerably temperate month.
D.
Sun
M. rises
10 7
11 7
12 7
13 8
E8
15 8
16 8
17 8
18 8
19 8
20 8
E8
22 8
23 8
21 8
25 8
26 8
27 8
E8
29 8
30 8
gl 8
57 3
58 3
59 3
03
1 3
23
33
43
43
53
63
63
7 3
73
83
83
83
83
93
93
93
93
49
49
49
49
49
49
49
49
49
50
50
51
51
52
52
53
54
55
55
56
57
58
4 58
5 41
6 21
7 0
7 40
8 21
9 5
9 52
10 44
11 41
0a40
1 41
2 40
3 36
4 29
5 18
6 7
6 54
7 43
8 34
9 27
10 23
VOICE OF THE STARS—December, 1873.
On the 6th Mars opposes Uranus and on the 11th
Saturn enters Aquarius; hence we shall hear of
troubles in France; where the “ Voice of God ” has
not yet penetrated, nor the people been convinced
that Providence will punish for the national sin
of cruelty to the poor, half-naked inhabitants of
Northern Africa. The 12th is a good birthday for
John, King of Saxony, and for all born that day. The
24th is evil rather for George I, king of Greece. His
revenue will fail and he will be disturbed in his
royal seat. On the 13th Jupiter enters Libra and
brings peace and prosperity to China, Japan, &c.; see
p. 21. Mais in Aquarius disturbs Arabia, Russia and
Prussia, &c.; the more so, as the mischief-worker
Saturn has entered that sign also, and will soon begin
to shower down troubles on the peoples under its
sway. . These will take the form of earthquakes and
political disturbances. All born from the 21st to the
24th September will now be gaining and flourishing,
and will enjoy good health in general. Bat those
born from the 19th to the 22nd January must guard
against losses and family sorrows.
“God save the Queen and Royal Family.”
�PLANETS—LAW AND UNIVERSITY TERMS.
28
[zADKIEL’s
PLANETS, &c.
The Dominion of the Moon in Names and Characters oe the
Planets, &c.
i Mao’s Body, as she passes through
® The Sun.
i the Twelve Zodiacal Signs.
h Saturn. H Jupiter. <J Mars.
i
• __
° 2 Venus. £ Mercury. J The
' T Aries, Head and Face.......... 0 J Moon. ft Dragon’s Head.
i y Taurus, Neck and Throat.... 30 13 Dragon’s Tail.
$ Uranus.
H Gemini, Arms and Shoulders 60 ? Ceres $ Pallas. $ Juno.
i sd Cancer, Breast .and Stomach 90 [$] Vesta, (p Neptune. Astrea.
! ft Leo, Heart and Back.......... 120
Flora. &c., &c.
■ tlj) Virgo, Bowels and Belly ....150 N.B.—Those printed in italics are not
in the zodiac, and have
; =2= Libra, Reins and Loins...... 180 fluence. There are nowno important in
above 100 disco
- th Scorpio. Secret Members ....210 vered between Mars and Jupiter.
J Sagittarius, Hips & Thighs. 240
ASPECTS.
| k? Capricorn, Knees and Hams 270 5 Conjunction.
* Sextile.
;
Aquarius, Legs and Ankles. 300 A Trine. □ Quartile. § Opposition.
)( Pisces, Feet and Toes.......... 330 S □ Semisquare. SSnSesquisquare.
LAW TERMS, 1873.
As settled by Statutes 11 Geo. IV < cap. 70. s. 6.
& 1 Will. IV
1 cap. 3, s. 2.
Hilary Term ................. Begins 3an. 11
Easter ...........................
„ Apr. 15
Trinity........................
„May 23
Michaelmas......................
„ Nov. 2
For Returns see Statute 1 Will. IV, cap. 3, s. 2.
(Passed July 23,1830.
(Passed Dec. 23,1830.)
....Ends Jan. 31
....
„ May 9
....
„ Junel3
...
„ Nov. 25
(Passed Dec. 23, 1830.)
UNIVERSITY TERMS, 1873.
Tbrms.
I Lent..........
I Easter ........
i Trinity....... .
Michaelmas....
OXFORD.
Begins.
Ends.
Jan.
11 April 5
April 1G May 30
May
31 July 6
Oct.
10 Dec. 17
The A ct, July 1.
CAMBRIDGE.
Begins.
Divides.
Ends.
Jan. 13 Feb. 22, Midnight April 4
April 9 May IS, Midnight June 21
Oct.
1 Nov. 8, Noon
Dec! 16
The Commencement, June 17.
REGULATIONS RESPECTING ELECTIONS.
Notice to receive claims for Votes must be given by Overseers on June 20. Lists
of Electors made by July 31. Persons objecting to claims for Votes give notice
by August r5 Barristers hold Revision Courts between September 20 and Oct.
25. Lists copied into books, and the books to be delivered by October 31; such
books considered the Registry of the Electors.
ARTICLES OF THE CALENDAR AND COMMON NOTES FOR 1872.
Golden Number ..........................
12 Ash Wednesday............................... Feb.26
Epact...............
1 Easter Day .............................. Apr. 13
Dominical Letter ............
E Rogation Sunday....... ................ Maj’ 18
Solar Cycle ....................................
6 Ascension Day........................... ...Maj'22
Roman Indiction.........................
1 WiiitSunday....................... . June 1
Julian Period
............. .........6586 Trinity Sunday ........................ June 8
Sundays after Epiphany..............
3 Sundays after Trinity ...............
24
Septuagésima- Sunday .. ..... Feb. 9 Advent Sunday.......................... Nov. 30
The Year 5634 of the Jewish Era begins September 22, 1873. The Mahommeaan
Year, 1290, begins March 1, 1873. Ramadan (Turkish Fast) commences on the
23rd October, 1873. This Year 1873 is the year 2626 of the Foundation of Rome ;
2619 of the Era of Nabonassar, fixed Wednesday, 26th Feb., 747 B.C.
�ALMANAC.]
REGAL TABLES.
29
BIRTHDAYS OF THE ROYAL FAMILY.
Queen Victoria .................. May 24, 1819 Pr. Leo. Geo Duncan Albert. Apr. 7, 1853
The Princess of Prussia ..Nov. 21, 1840
Albert Edward, Pr. of WalesNov 9,1841
Princess Alice of Hesse ..Apr. 25, 1843
Prince Alfred Ernest Albert Aug. 6,1844
Princess of Wales ........... Deo. 1, 1844
Prs.HelenaAugustaVictoria May 25, 1846
Prs. LouisaCarolinaAlbertaMar. 18, 1848
Pr. Arthur Patrick William
Albert............................. May 1,1850
Prs. Beatrice Mary Victoria Apr 14, 1857
Late King of Hanover......... May 27, 1819
Duchess of Cambridge ....July 25, 1797
Duke of Cambridge.......... Mar. 26, 1819
Augusta Caroline, Duchess
of Mecklenburgh Strelitz July 19, 1822
MaryAdelaideof CambridgeNov. 27, 1833
Prs. Viet. Alberta of Hesse April 5, 1863
Princess Eliz. Alex. Louise, Nov. 1,1864
SOVEREIGNS OF EUROPE.
Countries, &c.
To whom subject.
When born.
Began to reign.
England, &c.............. Victoria ....................May 24........... 1819 June 20......... 1837
France.......................Thiers, President •
Russia, &c..................Alexander II............... April 29......... 1818 March 2
1855
Spain........................ Amadeus.................... May 30..........1845
1871
Portugal................... Luis II........................October 31..1838 November 12,1861
Prussia....................... Frederick William V,
Emperor of Germany March 22 ...1797 January 2 ..1861
Netherlands..............William III . ............. February 19.1817 March 17 ....1849
Belgium.................... Leopold II .............. ..April 9 ........ 1835 December
1865
Denmark...................Christian IX.............. April 8......... 1818 November 16,1863
Sweden & Norway ... Charles XV............. . May 3............ 1826 July 8. ......1859
Austria, &c................ Francis ..... ............ August 18.... 1830 December 2 1848
Popedom................... Pius IX........................May 13 .......... 1792 June 16 ......... 1846 |
Italy .................... .Victor Emanuel... ...March 14 ... .1820 March 23 ....1849 i
Ottoman Empire...... Abdul Aziz................. February 9*. .1830 June 25.......... 1861
Greece....................... George I .................... December24.1845 JuneS .......... 1863 I
Bavaria..................... Louis II ............... ..August ¿5.... 1845 March 10 ....1864
Saxony.............. ........ John........................... December 12 1801 August 10... .1854
Wurtemberg ........Charles ....................... March 6 ....1823 June 27.......... 1864
* 15 Chabän, 1245.
KINGS AND QUEENS OF ENGLAND, FROM THE CONQUEST.
(Corrected by Sir Harris Nicolas’s “ Chronology of History.”
Names. Began to reign. Charles I, Jan. 30,1649,
Names. Began to reign
to the restoration of
William I ...1066, Dec. 25 Henry VI ...1422, Sept. 1
Charles II.
William II. 1087, Sept. 26 Edward IV 1461, Mar. 4
Names. Began to reign.
Henry I ... .1100, Aug. 5 Edward V ...14S3, April 9
Stephen ... .1135, Dec. 26 Richard III 1483, J une 2g Ch. II (rest, f) 1660, May 29
Henry II.... 1154, Dec. 19 Henry VII ..1485, Aug. 2g James II . 1685, Feb. 6
Richard I.... 1189, Sept. 3 Henry VIII. 1509, April 22 W.III&My.II,1689, Feb.13
John............. 1199, May 27 Edward VI ..1547, Jan. 28 William III alone, 1694
Henry III ..1216, Oct. 28 Mary I ... .1553, July 6 Anne............ 1702, Mar. 8
Edward I... .1272, Nov. 20 Elizabeth....1558, Nov. 17 George I .... 1714, Aug. 1
Edward II ..1307, July 8 James I .....1603, Mar. 24 George II .. 1727, June 11
Edward III 1327, Jan. 25 Charles I ...1625, Mar 27 George III ..1760, Oct. 25
*
(Oliver George IV ..1820, Jan. 29
Richard II ..1377, June 22 Commonwealth
Cromwell and his Son) William IV..1830, June 26
Henry IV ...1399, Sept. 30
from the execution Qf Victoria ... .1837, June 20
Henry V ... .1418, Mar. 21
* Edward III, King of France, from January, 1340, to May, 1360. Heredita ry
right admitted November, 1272.
f In some historical and in all legal documents, the reign of Charles II is re ck
oned from his father’s death.
�30
[zADKIEL’s
STAMP DUTIES.
STAMP DUTIES.
£ 8. d.
AGREEMENTS, value £5, duty 6d.; above 1080 words, extra
0 0 6
‘ MEMORANDUM or AGREEMENT between masters and mariners of
anj’ ships, for wages or service on any voyage 020
I APPRAISEMENT ol Goods, 2s. 6d.—5s.—10s.—15s.—20a.
APPRENTICESHIP INDENTURES.
If the Premium be under ^30 £10 0
2 0 0 £400 and under £500
- £25 0 0
£30, and under £50 500,
„
600
- 30 0 0
100 3 0 0
50,
„
600,
„
800
- 40 0 0
6 0 0
100,
200 800,
„
1000
- 50 0 0
- 12 0 0
200,
300 60 0 0
300,
,,
- 20 0 0 1000, or upwards
400 vnd where no premium, if the Indenture shall not contain more than
1080 words -----------0 2 6
ff more than 1080 words ----------1 15 0
By 7 and 8 Geo. IV, c. 17.—When bills of exchange or notes which become due
rhe day preceding Good Friday or Christmas Day are dishonoured, notice thereof
may be given on the day next after; and whenever Christmas Day falls on a
Monday, then on the Tuesday next after.
Bills of Exchange and Notes becoming duo on Fast or Thanksgiving Days shall
e payable on the preceding day; and Good Friday and Christmas Day, and
very day of Fast or Thanksgiving, shall for all other purposes as regards bills
md notes be considered as Sunday.
DEBENTURE or Certificate on any Drawback of any Duty or Part of any Duty
of Customs or' Excise, or any Bounty.
s. d.
Where the Drawback or Bounty to be received shall not exceed Ten Pounds 1 0
Where the same shall exceed Ten Pounds and not exceed Fifty Pounds 2 6
And where the same shall exceed Fifty Pounds................................................ 50
RECEIPTS, &c.
LICENSE.
ttECEil’T upon the Payment of Money On all Dogs amounting to £2, or upwards, Id.
Au. Letters of Credit tankers’ Drafts and Cheques (to any Letters acknowledging the safe
amount), Id.
arrival of Bills of Exchange
certified Copy of Register of Marriage,
or other Securities, &c. Birth or Death, Id.
Scrip Certificates transfer in Cost Book Mines, 6d.
To carry a Firearm Proxy in Joint Stock Company, Id.
CONVEYANCE OF ANY KIND.
s. d.
5 0
0 1
0 1
0 1
10 0
8. d.
Annual sum not exceeding 20s. -.--.-.-26
Exceeding 20s and not £12, tor every 20s......................................... 2 6
Exceeding £12 and not £24, for every 4is.
-..-50
Above £24, for every £4-.
.
.
.
• lu 0
�ALMANAC.]
31
STAMP DUTIES, &C.
Inland Bum or Exchange, Draft, or Promissory Note for payment in any
other manner than to bearer on deOrder for the Payment to the Bearer,
mand,
or to Order, at any time otherwise
DUTY
than on demand , of any sum.
DUTY.
8. d.
0 1
Exceeding £5
0 2
n
0 3
10
25
0 6
n
0 9
50
75
»
wo 1 0
100
„
200 2 0
200
„
300 3 0
99
300
„
400 4 0
99
400
„
500 5 0
99
500
„
750 7 6
99
750
„
1,000 10 0
99
1,000
,,
1,500 15 0
99
Foreign Bill of Exchange drawn in,
but payable out of, United Kingdom :
drawn singly, same duty as on an
Inland Bill; drawn in sets, for every
bill of each set,
Not exceeding £5
„
10
„
25
„
50
„
75
8. d
Not exceeding £5 0 1
Exceeding ^5
„
10
0 2
„
10
„
25 0 3
„
25
„
60 0 6
50
„
75 0 9
„
75
„
100
1 0
Promissory Note for payment to bearer
on demand, or in any other manner.
DUTY.
8. d.
Not exceeding £25 0 1
50 0 2
Exceeding £25
50
>>
75 0 3
»
75
»
100 0 4
99
100
„
200 0 8
99
200
„
300
1 0
99
300
»
4OU
1 4
99
400
„
500
1 8
99
600
,,
750
2 6
99
750
„ i,oou 3 4
99
1,000
„
1,500
5 0
99
Foreign Bill of Exchange drawn out
of the United Kingdom, and payable
within same duty as Inland Bill.
Foreign Bill op Exchange drawn and
payable out of the United Kingdom,
but indorsed or negotiated within the
same, duty as on a Foreign Bill drawn
within and payable out of the U. K.
8. d.
Exceeding £100, and not exceeding ...
£200
2 0
„
200
„
300
3 0
„
300
„
400
4 0
„
400
„
500
5 0
„
600
„
750
7 6
,,
750
„
1,000 10 0
(Succession Duty.)
Where the successor snail be the lineal
issue or ancestor of the predecessor, a
duty at the rate ot one pound per cent..
according to the value.
Where the successor shall be a brothel
or sister, or a descendant of a brothel
or sister, of the predecessor, a duty of
three pounds per cent.
Where the successor shall be a brothei
or sister of the father or mother, or a
descendant of a brother or sister of the
father or mother of the predece ssoi, a
duty of five pounds yer cent.
Where the successor shall be a brotnei
or sister of the grandfather or grandmother, or a descendant of the orothei
or sister of the grandfather or grand
mother of the predecessor, a duty of six
pounds per cent.
Where the successor shall be in am
other degree of collateral consanguinity
to the predecessor, or shall be a stranger
in blood to him, a duty of £10 per cent
LEA8E8.
Lease of any lands, tenements, here
ditaments, or heritable subjects at a
yearly rent, without any sum of money
oy way of fine, premium, or grassum
paid lor the same : —
lhe yearly rent not above £5 - 0 6
Above £5 and not above £10
' '
1- 0
10
15
1 6
»,
99
15
20
2 0
99
»
20
25
2 6
»
»
25
50
5 0
99
»
60
75
»
7 6
„ 75
100 - 10 0
.
>>
Above £100, 5s. for every £50, and
I, ...
fractional part thereof.
Warrant oj Attorney.—The same duty
as on a Bond for like purpose.
BON l)tS, MOKTGaGKS, &c.
Boud in England or Ireland, and Per
sonai Bond m Scotland, given as a secu
rity for the payment of any certain sum
of money.
N ot exceeding £50
- 1 ;3
Above £50 and not above £100 - 2 6
I
100
99
150 - 3 9
I
»
150
200 - 5 0
I
99
»
200
250 - 6 ö
,
99
»
250
300-7 6
'
Above £300, 2s.’’(id. for every £1O,
f:_
and fractional part thereof.
DUTÏ .
LET'l'EKb Ul ATTUKJNEY.
�32
[zadkiel’i
USEFUL TABLES.
BANK STOCK
TRANSFER AND DIVIDEND DAYS.
* * Ö»
M 8 of Transfer
Tu
Th F
Day
Y
Due.
— Tu w Tb F
3 per cent. Reduced..
99
99
> April6 and October 10.
— Tu w Tb F
34 per Cent Reduced
99
99
—- Tu — Th F
4 per cent. 1826 .......
99
99
— Tu w Tb F ■ I Jan. 5 and July 5.
3 per cent Consols ..
99
99
— Tu — Th _
Ditto, 1726
.......
99
99
— Tu w Th F
New 3J per cent........
99
99
Imperial 3percent..«
M — w — F _ 11 May 1 and Nov. 1
99
99
— Tu — Th — S
Imperial Annuities ..
99
99
— Tu — Th — si I May 25 and Sept. 25.
Iris h 5 per cent..........
„
»9
99
Irish Annuities, 1794, 1795
— — — Th — s
Hours luí buying, selling, and transferring, from 11 to 1; for accepting, from
HKMi» for uuymg, seeing,
9 to 3; for payment of Dividends, from 9 to 11, and from 1 to 3; and for 3 per
cent. Consols from 9 to 3 every day.
SOUTH SEA STOCK, MW F; 3 per cent. New Annuities, Tu Th S ; 3 per
cent. 1751, Tu Th S; Jan. 5 and July 5. 3 per cent. Old Annuities, M W F;
April and Oct.—Hours of Transfer, from 12 to 1; for receiving Dividends, 9 to 2.
INDIA STOCK, Tu Th, January 5 and July 5; India Bonds, March 31 and
Sept. 30.—Private Transfers made at other times 2s. 6d. extra at the Bank and
India House, and 3s 6d. extra at the South Sea House.
HOLIDAYS AT THE BANK.—Christmas Day, Good Friday, May 1, Nov. 1.
TABLE TO CAST UP EXPENSES.
By Day. By Weck. By Mon. By Year.
£ s. d.
0 0 1
0 0 2
0 0 3
0 0 4
0 0 5
0 0 6
0 0 7
0 0 8
0 0 9
0 0 10
0 0 11
0 10
0 2 0
0 3 0
0 4 0
0 5 0
0 6 0
0 7 0
0 8 0
0 9 0
0 10 0
0 11 0
0 12 0
0 13 0
0 14 0
0 15 0
0 16 0
0 17 0
0 18 0
0 19 0
10 0
sé
s. d.
0 0 7
0 12
0 19
0 2 4
0 2 11
0 3 6
0 4 1
0 4 8
0 5 3
0 5 10
0 6 5
0 7 0
0 14 0
1 1 0
18 0
1 15 0
2 2 0
2 9 0
2 16 0
3 3 0
3 10 0
3 17 0
4 4 0
4 11 0
4 18 0
5 5 0
5 12 0
5 19 0
6 6 0
6 13 0
7 0 0
£ s. d.
2 4
4 8
7 0
9 4
11 8
14 0
16 4
18 8
110
13 4
15 8
18 0
2 16 0
4 4 0
5 12 0
7 0 0
8 8 0
9 16. 0
11 4 0
12 12 0
14 0 0
15 8 0
16 16 0
18 4 0
19 12 0
21 0 0
22 8 0
23 16 0
25 4 0
26 12 0
28 0 0 I
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
£ 8- d
1 10 5
3 0 10
4 11 3
6 18
7 12 1
9 2 6
10 12 11
12 3 4
13 13 9
15 4 2
16 14 7
18 5 0
36 10 0
54 15 0
73 0 0
91 5 0
109 10 0
127 15 0
146 0 0
164 5 0
182 10 a
20.0 15 a
219 0 0
•437 5 0
255 10 0
273 15 0
222 0 0
310 5 0
328 10 0
346 15 0
365 0 0
TABLE OF INTEREST AT EJVE
PER CENT.
Days.
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
£1.
d.f.
—
_
—
0 1
0 1
0 1
0 1
0 1
0 1
0 1
14
0 1
15
0 2
16
0 2
17
0 2
18
0 2
19
20
0 2
21
0 2
22
0 2
23 ■ 0 3
24
0 3
0 3
15
26
0 3
0 3
27
0 3
28
29
0 3
0 3
30
31
1 0
£2.' | £3.
1
d.f. "Z7
—
—
_
—
0 1
0 1 0 1
0 1 0 1
0 1 0 2
0 1 0 2
0 2 0 3
0 2 0 3
0 2 0 3
0 2 1 0
0 3 1 0
0 3 1 1
0 3 1 1
0 3 1 1
1 0 1 2
I 0 1 2
1 0 1 3
1 0 1 3
1 1 1 3
1 1 2 0
1 1 2 0
1 2 2 1
1 2 2 1
1 2 2 1
1 2 2 2
1 3 2 2
1 3 2 3
1 3 2 3
1 3 ! 2 3
2 0 3 0
4.
£5.
d.f.
0
0
0
0
0
0
1
1
1
1
1
1
1
1
2
2
2
2
2
2
2
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
3
4
1
1
2
2
3
3
0
0
1
1
2
2
3
3
0
0
1
1
2
3
3
0
0
1
1
2
2
33
0
0
0
1 0
0
0
1
1
1
1
1
1
2
2
2
2
2
2
3
3
3
3
3
3
4
4
4
4
4
4
5
1
1
2
3
3
0
1
1
2
3
3
0
1
1
2
3
3
0
1
1
2
3
3
0
1
1
2
3
3
9
�ALMANAC.]
USEFUL TABLES.
33
TABLE OF SEVERAL IMPORTANT EPOCHS, ERAS. &O.
EPOCHS ANO ERAS.
PERIOD OF COMMENCEMENT.
Grecian Year of the World..».............
Julian Period
... ........................
J ewish Mundane Era ...............
Destruction of Troy .......................... .
Building of Solomon’s Temple ........
Era of the Olympiads ..........................
Roman Era ......................... ..........
Era of habonassar ...................
Daniel’s 70 Weeks............ .
Mctonic Cycle .......................................
Julian Year ............... . ............... .
Augustan Era
................
Indiction of Constantinople ................
Christen Era ....................................
Destruction of Jerusalem....................
Era of Dioclesian ................................
Eta of the Hegira.................................
Persian Era ............ .............................
Conquest of England ................... ..
Union with Ireland ............................
TABLE TO CALCULATE WAGES
Pe
Year. Per Mth. Per Week.
Per Day
September 1, B.C. 5598.
January 1, B.C. 4713.
Ver. Equinox, B.C. 3761.
June, B.C. 1184.
May, B.C. 1015.
New Moon, Summer Solstice B.C 770.
April 24, B.C. 753.
February 26, B.C. 747.
Ver. Equinox, B.C. 458.
July 15, B.C 432.
January 1, B.C. 45.
February 14, B.C. 27.
September 1, B.C. 3.
January 1, A.D. 1. A.M. 4004.
September 1, A.D. 69.
September 17, A.D. 284.
July 16, A.D. 622.
June 16, A.D. 632.
October 14, A.D. 1060.
January 1, 1801.
INTEREST TABLE AT FIVE
PER CENT.
1 Month. 2 Months. 3 Months.
£ s. d.
£ s. d.
£ 8. d.
1
0 18
0 0 4|
0 0 01
£
£ 8. d. £ s. d.
£ 8. 0
0 3 4
0 0 94
?
0 0 IJ
1
0 0 1
0 0 2
0 0 3
3
0 5 0
0 1 1|
0
2
2
0 0 2
0 0 4
0 0 6
4
0 6 8
0 1 6}
0
21
3
0 0 9
0 0 3
0 0 6
5
0 8 4
0 1 11
0
31
4
0 0 4
0 10
0 0 8
6
0 10 0
0 2 3}
0 0 4
5
0 0 5
0 13
0 0 10
0 11 8
7
0 2 8}
0 0 4}
6
0 0 6
0 10
0 16
0 13 4
8
0 3 0}
0 0 5}
7
0 12
0 19
0 0 7
9
0 15 0
0 3 5}
0 6
8
0 14
0 0 8
0 2 0
10
0 16 8
0 3 10
0 6}
9
0 0 9
0 2 3
0 16
11
0 18 4
0 4 2f
0 7}
10
0 0 10
0 18
0 2 6
12
10 0
0 4 71
0 0 8
20
0 1 8
0 3 4
0 5 0
13
118
0 4 111
0 0 81
30
0 2 6
0 5 0
0 7 6
14
13 4
0 5 4}
0 0 91
40
0 3 4
0 10 0
0 6 8
15
0 5 9
15 0
0 0 91
50
0 4 2
0 8 4
0 12 6
16
16 8
0 6 11
0 0 10}
60
0 5 0
0 15 0
0 10 0
18 4
0 6 6}
17
0 0 111
70
0 5 10
0 17 6
0 11 8
18
1 10 0
0 6 10J
0 0 11}
80
0 6 8
0 13 4
10 0
19
0 7 3|
1 11 8
0 10}
90
0 7 6
0 15 0
1 2 o
20
1 13 4
0 7 8
0 1 11
100
0 8 4
0 16 8
1 5 0
30
2 10 0
0 11 6
0 1 71
200
0 16 8
1 13 4
2 10 0
40
0 15 4
3 6 8
0 2 21
300
15 0
2 10 0
3 15 0
50
4 3 4
0 19 2
0 2 9
400
1 13 4
3 6 8
5 0
60
5 0 0
1 3 01
0 3 3}
500
2 18
4 3 4 -6 5 0
70
5 16 8
1 6 lOi
0 3 10
600
2 10 0
5 0 0
7 10 U
80
6 13 4
1 10 8}
0 4 4}
700
2 18 4
5 16 8
8 15 0
90
7 10 0
1 14 6J I 0 4 11}
800
3 6 8
6 13 4 10 0 ■
190 1 8 6 8 1 1 18 4} 1 0 5 5J
900 1 3 15 0
7 10 0 11 5
The column of Months is calculated at
For Interest by any other per-centayc
lie ratio of Twelve months in the Year. multiply the amount at 5 per cent. ~bi
1 f the yearly wages be Guineas instead of
and divide
Pounds, for each Guinea add one Penny\ ¡the per-centage required,per cent, forInv5.
ex.—What is £8 at
t c
to each Month, or one Farthing to each [months ï 16d. x 3} 3} 56d.. and tbs'
JVeek.
| 1 divided by 5 is 11 l-5th.=
£
�34
HIGH WATER TABLE,
1873.
[ZADKIEL^Q
TABLE TO BIND THE TIME OF
HIGH WATER AT ALL THE PORTS ROUND GREAT BRITAIN
THE COASTS OF FRANCE AND HOLLAND, &C.
H.M.
H. M.
H.M.
Aberdeen Bar.........0 56 Donaghadee Pier ...7 8 Humber River En
Aberdovy............... 5 19 Donegal Bar ........... 2 58 trance ....................3 23
Aberystwith................5 19 Douglas Harbour....... 9 3 Ilfracombe ............... 3 40
Achill Head ........... 3 53 Dover Pier ............... 9 3 Ipswich ...
,.2 7
Isle de Bas (France) 2 43
Agnes, St., Scilly
2 23 Downing’s Bay,
Jersey, St. Aubin’s...4 3
Air Point................... 9 0
Sheephaven........... 3
Aidborough................8 30 Downs (Stream). ...0
Kenmare River (Ire
land) ................... 1 2?
Alderney Pier........... 4 38 Dublin Bar ............... 9
King’s Road (Bristol)! 38
Amlwch Port ........... 8 23 Dunbar (Scotland) ...0
Kingstown Harbour
Antwerp ................... 2 18 Duncansby Head....... 6
(Ireland) ......
2 28
Arran Isle .............. 9 8 Dundalk Bar ........... 8
Kirkcudbright. ... .9 8
Arundel Bar .......... 9 8 Dundee .................... 0
La Hogue Harbour
Ballyshannon Bar ...3 23 Dungarvon ................ 2
(France) .........
6 38
Batta.......... „................7 38 Dungeness ............ ..8
! Land’s End................ 2 28
Baltimore .............. 1 38 Dunkerque ................1
8 Leith Pier ............... 0 15
Banff
...oom.......1 26 Eddystone ............... 3
Bantry Bay ... ........ 1 39 Exmouth Bar ............ 4 18 Lerwick Harbour
(Scotland) ........... 8 23
Bardsey Island ......5 53 Eyemouth ................ 0 8
Barmouth................... 5 47 i Falmouth....................3 8 Lewis Islands (Scot
land)
....... ...3 53
Barnstaple Bar .......3 23 i Fécamp (France) ...8 38
Calais ........................9 41 Flamboro’ Head....... 2 23 Liverpool Dock ........9 15
Caldy Island ........... 3 53 iFlatholm....... .......... 4 30 London Bridge....... Calf of Man ........... 8 58 Flushing ...............0 47 Margate, Pier .......... 2 2
Caveale Bay ........... 4 2 iFowey . ...................... 3 23 Milford Haven En
3 38
Cantire (Mull)........... 6 53 1 Galloway (Mull)....... 9 8 trance .........
Cardiff ....................... 4 30 Galway Bay............... 2 23 Minehead Pier......... 4 23
Cardigan Bar ........... 4 53 Glenan Islands .... 1 18 Montrose.......... ....... 0 22
Carlingford Bar ....... 8 33 Goeree ( West Gat) 0 22 Morlaix (N. Coast
4 2 France)................... 3 8
Carnarvon Bar...........7 13 Granville..
..9 46 Needles Point.... ....7 38
Chatham ....................0 13 Gravelines
Chausey Islands....... 4 6 Gravesend _____ ..0 37 Newcastle ............... 1 53
Cherbourg ................ 5 51 Greenock (Scotland).9 38 Newhaven ............... 9 43
Chichester Harbour 9 23 Guernsey Pier.......... 4 23 Newport (Wales) .. 4 38
Christchurch Harbour6 43 Gunfleet (R. Thames)2 7 Fore Light (Stream) 0 58
Clear Cape (Ireland) 1 53 'Hartlepool .............. 1 38 Orfordness ................ 8 33
Coquet Island .........0 38 Harwich .................... 9 23 Ostend ..................1 12
8 29 Pembroke Dock Yd. 3 57
Cordonan....................1 49 Hastings .......
Cork Harbour....... In oq Havre de Grace....... 7 45 Pentland Frith ........8 23
Heligoland ................. 8 53 Penzance.................... 2 27
Cornwell Cape....... J
Cowes, I. of Wight...8 38 Bellevoetsluis (Hol.) 0 7 Peterhead ........... 0 22
Cromartie ................9 38 Hollesley Bay........... 9 23 Plymouth DockYard 3 26
Cuckold's Point ......0 6i Holyhead Bay........... 7 53 Portland Race
Cuxhaven.................... 1 7 Holy Island. liar. „. 0 23 (Stream) ................ 7
Portland Road ........4
Dartmouth Harbour..3 58i Honfleur Harbour
........7 23; Port Patrick ....... 8
Deal ......................... 9 8i (France)
Portsmouth Dock Yd.9
]>ee River) Scotland] 22
9
7 PortBiDouth to I.
Dis'otte Hsrbou
*
...4 8
9
1 »n.KV&t«- H»rboU'
Dieppe .......
8 8
I Ratogat ent Phr..J
*
Dinwis Bsy
;
.1 23
�35
PHENOMENA.
ALMANAC.] '
H. M.
H. M.
H.
Ratlilin Island............. 6 53 Southampton ........... 9 33 Tynemouth Bar ....... 0 43
Rye Harbour .............8 33 Spithead (Stream)...7 23 Waterford Harbour...3 43
Salcombe..................... 3 43 Spurn Point................3 13 Wexford Harbour ...5 23
fiialtees ......................3 33 St.Helen’s Harbour...8 53 Weymouth ......... .....4 23
Scalloway ................ 7 38 St. Ives (Cornwall)...2 23 Whitoy...................... 1 38
Scarborough ........... 2 18 St. Malo (France) 3 58 Whitehaven ........... 8 20
Scilly Islands ........... 2 25 Stromness (Orkneys)6 53 Wick (Scotland).......9 0
Seaford ...............
7 86 Sunderland .............. 0 53 Wicklow (Ireland) 6 53
Selsea Harbour ....... 9 8 Swansea Bay ............3 49 Wisbeach................... 5 23
Shannon Mouth ....... 1 43 Ty Bar..... ............0 2 Wranger Oog (E.
Sheerness Dock Yard}. 28 Tees River Bar ....... 1 23 Friesland) .......... 2 7
Shields .....................0 53 Teignmouth Bar.........3 53 Wight (W. end)....... 6 20
Wintertonness........... 5 35
Shoreham Harbour...9 8 Terschelling West
Skerries ................... 2 38 (Holland) .............. 6 33 Woolwich ............0 25
Yarmouth Roads....... 6 33
? Sligo Bay, Ballisadare3 52 Texel, Helder Road
Solebay ................... 8 23 (E. Stream)............. 6 53 Yarmouth, Isle of
Small’s Light ............ 3 20 Torbay ........................3 58
Wight .................. 6 50
JSidinouth .................. 3 50 Tralee Bay ................1 38 Youghall (Ireland) 2 53
Explanation.—To find the time of High Water at any of the above places
for any day throughout the year:—Take out the time of High Water from the
Itatendar for the given day, and add the hours and minutes opposite the name
of the place thereto (but subtract the hours and minutes therefrom when the
name is printed in italics). If the result give an amount beyond 12 hours, take
away that quantity. If the night tide be required at any place, add together
the time of the day tide and that for the next day ; then divide the sum by 2,
and the quotient will be the exact time of the night tide.
EXPLANATION OF THE “LUNAR INFLUENCES.”
1. The Moon joined by good aspect, with Saturn shews a good
day to deal with old folk or farmers, to make wills, purchase land
or houses, to plant or sow or to lay the foundation stone of new
buildings.
2. The Moon so joined with Jupiter is good for trade, or to open
shops or places of business, to deal with merchants, bankers or
clergymen, and generally to begin new undertakings, or to travel
for health.
3. The Moon so joined with Mars is good to deal with surgeons
or cutlers, or martial men.
4. The Moon joined so with the Sun is good to ask favours, or seek
employment, or travel for health.
5. The Moon so joined with Venus is good for all kinds of
dealings with females, and to woo, marry, visit or invite friends or
engage female servants.
6. The Moon so joined with Mercury is good for writing letters
or books, to deal W;th printers or booksellers, or lawyers, and to
send children to school or to bind apprentices' also to travel.
�36
[zADKIEL'f
BIRTHDAYS, &c, OF THE HEIR APPARENT AND HIS
FAMILY.
H.R.H. Albert Edward, Prince of Wales, K.G., b. November 9th,
1841 ; ct. 10th March, 1863, Alexandra, d. of Christian IX, King of
Denmark; b. December 1st, 1844. Their issue—H.R.A. Albert
Victor Christian Edward, b. January 8th, 1864 ; George Frederic
Ernest Albeit, b. June 3rd, 1865 ; Louise Victoria Alexandra
Dagmar, b. February 20 th, 1867 ; Victoria Alexandra Olga Mary,
b. July 6th, 1868 ; Maud Charlotte Mary Victoria, b. November 26th,
1869 ; and an infant Prince, John Charles Albert, b. April 6th,
1871, and who died on the 7 th April, 1871.
PHENOMENA IN 1873.
Stationary Position of the Planets.
21st March, 4h. 21m., Mars. 26th March, lOh. 50m., Mercury.
8 th April, 13h. 3m., Ciranzis. 13th April, 19h. 13m., Venus. 17th
April, 4h. 46m., Jupiter. 17th April. 22h. 30m., Mercury. 12th
May, 2h. 3m., Saturn. 24th May, 20h. 47m., Fe-zzs. 7th June,
5h. 9m., Mars. 29th July, lh. 20m., Mercury. 22nd August. Oh. 3m.,
Mercury. 29th September, 19h. 26m., Saturn. 15th November,
14h 0m., Uranus. 20th November, 7h. Im., Mercury. 9th December,
22h. 29m., Mercury.
Other Phenomena.
1st January, 7h. 46m., 0 in perigee. 5th, 13h. 58m., Mercury's
greatest elongation, 23° 8' W. 13th, 2h. 12m., Ip □ 0, 4h. 13m.,
J? d O- 17th, 9h. 48m., $ □ 0. 23rd, 5h. 56m., $ g 0. 27th, £
in aphelion.
14t.h February, 13h. 52m.,
g ©. 21st, 3h. 27m., g sup. d 0.
22nd, 8h. 40m., ? greatest elongation, 46° 30', E.
7th March, 4h. 0m., 2 in perihelion. 12th, lOh. 2m., $ in peri
helion. 18th, 16h. 21m., § greatest elongation, 18° 26', E. 30th,
$ at greatest brilliancy.
5th April, 13h. 6m., $ inferior <3 O. 15th, lOh. 29m., Ml ci 0.
21st, llh. 2m. U □ 0. 22nd, Oh. 3m., T? □ 0. 25th, 9h. 27m., g
in aphel on. 27th, 2h. 40m, g g 0.
3rd May, lOh. 31m., ? greatest elongation, 26° 28'. Sth, 5h. 51m.,
$ inferior
0. 12th, 16h. 54m., If. □ 0.
8th June, 9h. 17m., $ in perihelion; 21h. 24m., g in superior
(5 ©. 10th, 2 at greatest brilliancy. 27th, 13h. 2m., ? in aphelion.
30th, 18h. 33m., 0 in apogee.
*
14th July, 12h. 17m., ? great elongation, 45° 38', W. 15th, 20h.
34m, 5 greatest elongation, 26° 45', E. 20th, 19h. 36m.,
□ 0.
21st, 16h. 57m.,
g Q. 22nd, 8h. 42m., 8 in aphelion, 28th, 20h.
44m., hl ft. $
.
r
�ALMANAC.]
ECLIPSES.
37
11th August, 21h.-12m., $ □ 0. 12th, 19h. 18m., $ inferior d
30th, 2h. 27m., $ greatest elongation, 18° 8' W.
4th September, 2h. 27m,
3 O; 8h. 30m., $ in perihelion.
24th, 14h. 40m., § superior o Q.
17th October, 22h. 0m., J in perihelion. 18th, 7h. 56m., £ in
perihelion. 19th, 5h. 4m., T? □ 0 ; 23h. 11m., T g 0.
2nd November, 8h. 37m.,
□ 0. 10th, 4h. 9m., $ greatest elon
gation 22° 41', E. 16th, 7h. 49m., $ in perihelion. 30th, 6h. 24m.,
$ inferior d O1st December, 7h. 45m., g in perihelion. 19th, 2h. 41m., $
greatest elongation, 21° 40', W.
0.
ECLIPSES IN 1873.
There will four eclipses in 1873 ; two of the Sun and two of
the Moon.
. I. A total eclipse of the Moon, invisible at Greenwich. First
contact with the shadow at 9h 30’4m, a.m., on the 12th May.
Beginning of total phase at 10h 35-2m, a.m. Full Moon at llh 17’6m,
a.m. End of total phase at 0h 5m, p.m. ; and last contact with
the shadow at lh 9’8ra, p.m. Magnitude of the eclipse (Moon’s
diameter = 1) 1’428. The first contact occurs at 124° from the
Moon’s north limb, towards the east. The last contact 82° towards
the west. It falls in the 22 nd degree of Taurus. It will chiefly
affect the Society Islands and others near them.
II. A partial eclipse of the Sun, visible at Greenwich. Begins
at 7h 36'2m, a.m. Greatest eclipse at 8h 28Tm. New Moon at 9h
20Tm ; and the eclipse ends at 9h 23’4“. Magnitude of the
eclipse (Sun’s diameter = 1) 0’352. It falls on the 6th degree
of Gemini. It there causeth dissension among priests, hatred and
seditions ; and an inveterate hatred of the law of both God and
man. It endures lh 47m, and will, therefore, be operating
on the earth for a year and three quarters. No doubt, that being
visible in the ruling sign of London, it will produce much of its
evil effects on the great city. These will be partly physical; and
we may look for sad suffering by deaths from pestilence ; and were
it not that Jupiter is rising, I should expect the cholera to visit us.
However, as Saturn is found in Aquarius, and in the 6th house, we
may be assured that affections of the head will be very prevalent;
Jupiter being lord of the 8th house (that of death), many deaths
by disease of the heart will be recorded, especially in France ; while in
Ireland defects of the throat will abound.
III. A total eclipse of the Moon partly visible at Greenwich.
First contact with the shadow at 2h 6’2m, p.m., November the 4th.
Beginning of total phase at 3h 8m, p.m. Full Moon at 3h 48’2m. p.m.
Middle at 3h 50’8m. End of total phase at 4h 33’6“. And last conn
�38
general prédictions.
[zaDKIMl’S
tact with the ¡shadow at 5h 35-4“ p.m. The magnitude (Moon’s
diameter = 1) 1-419. And it falls in the 13th degree of Taurus. It
is said to be followed by the death of the queen of some region under
Taurus; and to produce a scarcity of seed and barrenness of the
earth. The Moon will rise totally eclipsed.
GENERAL PREDICTIONS.
The Sun enters Capricorn at llh 53m, a.m., 20i7i December, 1872.
The R.A. on the M.C. will be 17h 50m 30s, and we find rising in
the east X 24° 10'.
Jupiter, lord of the figure, is in Virgo, and m trine to the Sun.
Hence we say that men will be sociable and love one another;
that the “Discord,” of 1872, will in a great degree disappear, and
that they will delight in husbandry and manuring the earth ; that,
fruits shall be plentiful, but soon corrupt; yet seeds will come to
o-ood. There will be many strong southerly winds and these will do
mischief. The worst feature in this figure is Mars in the 7tli.
This indicates, according to Ramesey, “ great dissensions and enmi
ties ; and that men shall be perplexed with theft, much bloodshed,
contentions and wars.” As Mars is in the sign Libra, it is most
probable that we shall have some Chinese squabbles and quarrels.
But as Libra governs Austria also, and as the Emperor of that
country has the Suris opposition of Mars 42° 46', in January, 1873,
we may fear some evil of a martial nature in that direction. The
Moon and Jupiter both being in Virgo, and in the house of sick
ness we may anticipate much disease of the liver and consumption
in this country. Let all liable to such complaints live quietly duiing
the ensuing spring.
The Dragon’s Head in Gemini shews sickness and divers infir
mities to the grandees of the earth; who will suffer from earth
quakes and unwholesome mists; and that there will be wars and
dissensions between great and rich men and men of a middle degree.
There will also be much damage to trees by caterpillars and other
The Dragon’s Tail in Sagittarius imports the dejection of noble
and great men and their misfortunes ; and the rise of ignoble, base
fellows; and the sad condition of judges, counsellors, learned and
wise men, during the influence of this figure of the heavens.
.
On the 7th January, 1873, we find Mars in square to Saturn, being
mutually in each other’s exaltation. This denotes troubles in India
and China, as also much mischief by storms, in Greece, Mexico, and
other countries. Some warlike acts may then be expected against
the power of this country. Mars is exalted above the Moon ; whence
we foresee earthquakes, and those very violent.
Lastly, we find the Sun strong, being near the Mid-heaven, and
�1 almanac.]
'I
GENERAL I'REbiCrioNS.
S')
in trine to J upiter and the Moon. This shews us that there will be
I accomplished some high and remarkable public action, or great
| scientific discovery, during the first three months of the year.
!
The ingress occurs at Washington at 2h 15m 42s, am., when £ 21°
(will be rising, and
11|° on the M.C., with the evil Mars just
inside the cusp and in square to Saturn; yet also is he in sextile
a to Mercury just rising.
!
No doubt this position of Mars will render the rulers in America
j very unpopular, for they will lay on taxes without consideration,
and the revenue in that country will be very defective. The people
if in the States shall be given to delight in astrology and all curious
arts and sciences. It may be hoped that some man of talent there
will set up an Almanac, to show forth the truths of the oldest
science in the world j and, if so, he will have good success, for
f there are but few newspapers there, the editors of which combine
Li ignorance and rancour, as they do in this old country.
b|
The Sun is in the ascendant and in good aspect with Jupiter,
j This foreshows that the season of this figure (three months) will be
'good and prosperous for the people generally through the States,
d
Prag°n’s Head is in the 6th house, which is a token that the
i| air will be healthful and pleasant, and that small cattle will flourish
h| and be gainful to their proprietors.
I Some serious quarrels among great men maybe expected, how| ever, since Mars is exalted above Jupiter, and these may lead to
M duels and other acts of bloodshed. The Dragon’s Tail exalted above
•a| Mercury no doubt shows evil to learned and wise men.
!
i In other countries we find but few notable positions. But it may
be well to draw attention to the places where old Saturn will be on
J the M.C. at this ingress. This will be in 25 degrees of east longitude ; whence he will be then passing over Candia and Andros,
“i Paros, and other islands of the Archipelago. In and about those’
' ,'i P^rts, therefore, may we look for earthquakes, chiefly on and near
^
*
4 the 7th of January, 1873.
The Sun enters Aries at 0h 52m,
on the 20lh March
Il11873, . at London.we find the RA. on the Mid-heaven will be 0h 44m
At this time
..20s, giving <y> 12°, and on the asc. will arise
4° 38'. The active
Mercury is found in T 18° 21', just within the tenth house and
(4 featurn in SOT 0° 33' on the cusp of the 7th, while $ rise? in 1° 58'R.
■ Batum m
/» -r
W Leo ; the Moon being in f 123 39', and
on the cusp of the
oe>l second house in 22° 40'.
i I The Sun is lord of the year, being well aspected and not afflicted
In any way. This shows, says Ramesey, “ that it shall be well with
-im ihe common people ; the year shall be fruitful and successful unto
&A ¡them, as also to great, noble, and rich men, kings and grandees of
■
D 2
EfJ’j WXC1VU.LJ
�40
GENERAL PREDICTIONS.
[zadktel’s ’
the earth ; and that they shall be fortunate in honour, and shall ’
overcome their enemies, be gracious and loving to the people, and
shall do them justice,” &c. AU this applies generally to England,
and especially to Birmingham, Leicester, and other places; for which
see page 9.
We find Jupiter on the cusp of the second house, and this shows
much prosperity to the people, the revenue, and nation in general.
The Sun in the 9th house indicates that the inclinations of the
people are generally to good ; that they shall be fortunate regarding
long journeys and voyages ; and that they shall love and delight in
the law of God and man. Mars on the cusp of the 5th house
denotes that there will be much discord in theatres, fires therein,
and dissensions among their directors, &c. But, as Venus is in the
10th and strong, we may, nevertheless, look for prosperity in exhi
bitions, and success to persons who make music their profession.
Mercury in the 10th tells us that merchants, scholars, and ingenious
men will flourish and do well, and meet many honours from the
Queen and governors. The Moon in the 5th house implies (not
withstanding the evil of Mars) that there will be plenty and merry
making through the land ; yet the Dragon’s Tail in the 5th also (
threatens many troubles through children, and that the education f
bubble will bring grief to the country. Saturn being occidental on 'r
the cusp of the 7th foreshows combustions and underground troubles,
blowing up of mines, and deaths thereby, especially on or about the à
10th of May. These evils will never cease until, by astrology, we &•
learn the time that they are imminent, and thence guard against
them.
The Dragon’s Tail in Scorpio imports many fevers and infirmities
of the breast, catarrhs, and deductions in the throat. Mercury,
exalted above the Moon, speaks of many wondrous feats performed,
and I judge that the art of aerostation will prosper, and that men will
at length prepare to begin to navigate the air ! Also Venus exalted
above the Dragon’s Head imports prosperity, pleasure, and happiness
to great men and nobles, &c.
The position of Mars at the ingress denotes much rain to prevail IJS1
in general throughout the year. And Saturn in Aquarius and, )£jj
occidental imports that violent tempests will prevail also.
The coincident Full Moon will be at 5h 44m, a.m., on the 14th [f4
March.
This figure is generally good also. The chief points therein are
Venus in the 2nd, which brings happiness and fertility of thapt
fruits of the earth. Jupiter is lord of the figure and found in Leo >30
This imports high winds and those mischievous ; even to the blow- vq
ing up trees by the roots ; yet there shall be clear air and whole- Jlgj
some at the end of winter; but in the spring abundance of rain nhs
while in autumn there shall be certainly a plentiful and good harvest,
�ALMANAC.]
GENERAL PREDICTIONS.
41
but people will be troubled with unusual coughs, &c. Lastly, Mars
in the 8th shews that there will be many fearful and terrible sud
den deaths, chiefly by water and poison.
The figure for the Sun in Aries at Washington will be at 7h 43m49 ,
a.m., on the 20th March, 1873. On the M.C. will be 19h 36m 98 of
R.A., and, rising, will be 8 8° 30'. In the ascendant we find Venus
in Q 13° 28', opposed by Mars, in the 7th, in Scorpio 15° 16'. Now
Venus would do very much good in the United States, if free from
this sad aspect of Mars ; the which denotes public quarrels, discord
and wars ; also deceit in merchandizing, with trouble and sadness.
Jupiter is found in the 5th, whence it may be foreseen that the
population will increase rapidly. And Saturn in the tenth, being
strong and well aspected, gives honours and benefits to the people
through their men in power, &c.
Reverting again to the figure for London, and making due allowance
for the difference of longitude at Paris, we find Mercury just on the
M.C.; which implies that the governors in France will again be
changed ; yet the people will do well generally, and the national
funds will improve. True, we find Uranus in Leo and retrograde ;
and that Saturn will come to his opposition on the 8th of April.
This, no doubt, will bring on emeutes and some serious troubles in
France ; though while Jupiter is in Leo, her ruling sign, we may
hope she will escape any great or lasting mischief. On the 10th
May, however, there is a square of Mars to these two planets
(Uranus and Saturn) which will excite their evil qualities, and bring
acts of blood in France.
An Eclipse of the Sun, visible at Greenwich ; New Moon at 9h 20m
6s, a.m., on the 26th May, 1873.
At this time we have lh 36in 12s of R.A. on the Mid-heaven, and
of 14° 0' of Leo rising. We find the eclipse in U 5° 8', and we perceive
that Jupiter is rising in
23° 41'. On the cusp of the 4th is Mars ;
Saturn and Uranus are in elose opposition, from St an(^
placed
in the 6th and 12th houses. This figure is more good than evil;
vet not free from malice ; which will show itself in a great measure
in France, and will not allow London to escape scot free ; nor,
indeed, Lombardy, Belgium, &c. The sun eclipsed, in the first face
of Gemini, causeth dissension among priests ; and inveterate hatred
and seditions. It also brings a tendency to outrageous diseases;
but these latter evils, the benefic Jupiter, rising, will overcome.
Yet Mercury in aspect to Jupiter, and ruling the eclipse, will give
much thunder and lightning, as also some pernicious winds,
with opening of the earth and earthquakes.
A total Eclipse of the Moon, at 3h 48m 23,
4</i November, 1873.
This eclipse takes place with 18h 44m 2s of R.A., on the Mid-heaven,
and T 25° 30' rising. The Moon is found in the ascendant in 8
�42
FACTS AND FALLACIES
[zSlEL’s
12 20'; and she rises totally eclipsed; yet the eclipse is only
partial, in reality, tons in London, in one sense. An eclipse of the
Moon in the second face of Taurus denotes the death of the Queen
of some region under Taurus, and a scarcity of seeds and
barrenness of the earth. This eclipse is ruled by Venus, she being
in Libra. She denotes, as does Jupiter, success and happiness in
most things ; and particularly she causes venereal sports, honour,
fame, joy, &c., happy marriages, abundance of children and felicity
in all things belonging to matrimony. We find Venus, ruler of this
eclipse, in Libra and in close square to Mars ; this shews that
countries (for which see p. 21) will be suffering from violence and
martial acts. Herein we find Mars in Capricorn near the Mid-heaven
and in aspect to the eclipse. This is said to threaten the ruler of
Rome with being stabbed ; but there would require many other
testimonies before I should venture to predict positively such an
event. However, Mars will spend his malice on our rulers ; and
they will be evilly affected towards the people, and act with much
tyranny for some weeks to come. Lie is said to cause wars, tribu
lation and slaughter to young men, when found in such a situation.
The Dragon’s Head in Taurus shews the slaughter of nobles and
great men in the northern parts (say, Ireland), and, in the western,
controversies and dissension between noblemen and the plebeians.
The Dragon’s Tail in Scorpio denotes many fevers and chest diseases
among men, chiefly in Ireland.
Here we find Mars exalted above the Moon ; and this I have fre
quently found to denote earthquakes, and those very violent; also
above the Sun, kings and rulers will go near to be slain treacherously.
The most probable period for these fearful phenomena will be the
19th November and the 9th December. The Moon exalted above the
Dragon’s Head shews damage to rivers and fountains, springs, &c.
THE FACTS AND THE FALLACIES OF “ SCIENCE.”
We know of no man who merits to be accepted as the mouth
piece of science, so much as Sir John Lubbock, Bart, M.P., &c., &c.
He is intelligent and very industrious; and we hope religious. He has
recently given to the world a very clever book, called “ The Origin
of Civilization.” It is cram-full of what he calls “ facts,” in refer
ence to this subject; but what are, many of them, at least, merely
opinions. And he winds up his work by some remarks, that ve
shall give our readers, for purposes that they will presently
perceive.
At page 253 he speaks thus of the Mandingoes, whom of course,
he classes among savages: “They regard the Deity as so remote,
and of so exalted a nature, that it is idle to imagine the feeble
supplications of wretched mortals can reverse the decrees and
�z
ALMANAC.]
OF SCIENCE.
43
charge the purposes of Unerring Wisdom.” They seem, however, to
Have little confidence in their own views, and generally assured
*
Park, in answer to his enquiries about religion and the immortality
of the soul, that no man knows anything about it. Now in this
matter it seems to us that the Mandingoes were perfectly right;
for on such subjects, certainly no man does know anything about
it, until he be enlightened by Revelation.
At page 255 Sir John goes on to favour us with some of his own
ideas ; that is, of his scientific notions. He says, “We know that
a belief in witchcraft was all but universal until recently, even in
OUT own country. This dark superstition has, indeed, flourished for
centuries in Christian countries, and has only been expelled at
length by the light of science. It still survives wherever science has
act penetrated.”
Therefore we see that it is not Christianity, according to Sir John
Lubbock, that helps us to destroy a belief in witchcraft; but only
science, of which one of the latest escapades has been to persuade
us that the “ origin of life ” on this earth is not due to the power
of Him who said, “ Let light be, and light was but it came here
by means of an aerolite, that chance threw upon us, wrapped in
grass and containing a Bug !t
Now we have but little respect for these men of science. We find
that they are quite indifferent to facts, though they pretend to
found their science altogether upon facts observed and well known.
Will any of them, from Sir John Lubbock at the head of them,
to the merest scribbler in the Daily News, who writes at a penny a
line, at the tail, venture to tell us, without a blush for the falsehood,
that they know by their own experience, that there really is not,
and never was, such a thing as witchcraft ? Will they, in defiance
of the Mosaical law against its practice, and in contradiction to the
assertions of the New Testament; will they, we demand to know,
dare to come forward and assert in the face of society, that there is
no such thing really existing as witchcraft, and that there never
was any such thing really practised ?
We go entirely with them, as to the evil, the tremendous evil, of
its practice ; but we will not go one inch on the road to deny the
* Park’s Travels, vol. i, page 67.
+ Pity it is that Sir John never defines what he means exactly by “ Science.”
Bat Mr. G. H. Lewes, another great authority in the scientific world, does
favour us with a definition. He says that “ Science is the systematic co-ordinatioa of the facts of co-existence and succession.”—Page 76 of Aristotle, by G.
Lewes. Well, let us substitute this definition for Sir John’s “Science;”
aad then we read that witchcraft has been “ expelled, at length, by the light of
the qjfstematic co-ordination of the facts of co-existence and succession.” We
hop® that this will become as clear to our scientific readers as mud in a wine
glass.
�44
FACTS AND FALLACIES
[ZADKIEL’S
truth of its existence, largely in former days, and certainly still to a
considerable extent, even “ in our own country.” Does Sir John
Lubbock imagine that those people who profess to practise the
abominable rites of witchcraft, will come to him to explain them,
or will ask his opinion about them ? Let him know that they court
not publicity, they seek not to be known, they invite not the power
of the law to punish them for their deeds. No; such men as they
are, who fear not the evil spirits they dare to associate with, may
still fear the trouble they would fall into if their practices were
made public. Let Sir John Lubbock begin to write an Astrological
Almanac, and he will soon find, if he shew that he knows much
about the matter, that men, and women too, will pester him, as
they do us, for information that may be and has been of use in
their diabolical rites and ceremonies. He will soon find also that
it is not the false glare of science that has checked this unchristian
practice ; but that the mild light of religion alone has enabled some
of those men who have fallen into the temptation to practise such
evils, to abandon them for ever.
Let Sir John Lubbock use his interest in the national schools to
have the truth taught. Let the growing generation learn that there
is no greater sin, before God, than is this dealing with Evil Spirits ;
which constitutes the very essence of that Witchcraft of which Sir
John Lubbock ignorantly denies the existence, but of which there
is far too much evidence existing—when rightly sought for—and
too much evil arising therefrom, to be put down and destroyed
by a mere man of science, forsooth, making a pretence to deny.
Sir John goes on to say, “The immense service which ‘science’
has thus rendered to the cause of religion and of humanity, has
not hitherto received the recognition it deserves.” And he observes
farther, that “ If we consider the various aspects of Christianity, as
understood by different nations, we can hardly fail to perceive that
the dignity, and, therefore, the truth, of their religious beliefs, is in
direct relation to the knowledge of science and of the great physical
laws by which our universe is governed.”*
Our ideas of the foundation of true Christianity have hitherto
been, and still are, notwithstanding this flourish of the man of
science, that it is really the pure gift of God; in other words, the
grace of God, that creates the true Christian, and that when th®
Saviour chose the poor ignorant fisherman, St. Peter, and others
of his disciples, to spread abroad his religion, they were certainly
* Of these physical laws of our universe, we heg leave to hint to Sir John
Lubbock that he and most other scientific men are deplorably ignorant. The
great fact is now becoming known, that all the ideas of Newton as to the vast
size of the sun, its distance, the motion of the earth around it, and all the
consequences of these mistaken ideas, are merely dreams, and are totally desti
tute of one iota of truth and reality.
�ALMANAC!.]
OF SCIENCE.
45
not chosen for any scientific knowledge or acquirements. Away then,
for ever, with these fallacies, and down with this false and foolish
teaching!
It is precisely the same thing when these pretended scientific
men have to do with the question of the truth and reality of the
old astrology. They are, one and all, utterly ignorant of even its
first elements. Yet they set themselves up as judges, and do not
hesitate to condemn it, notwithstanding the proverb, Ne damnent
quae non intelligunt. Ask one of them if he ever tried it, and he
answers, “No, indeed, but—I—am—quite persuaded—that—it—is
—false.”. And this in the face of thousands upon thousands who
have tried it and found it to be true. He expects that a scoff, or
a jeer, will be taken as evidence, where he might find real and
decided evidence of its fallacy, if such were existing Ask him to
erect a figure, or map, of the heavens, and he stands aghast. Yet
can he have the impudence to laugh at what others, better men
than he is, have bowed their head to, in acknowledgment of its
absolute truth. And these are the men who try their best to put
down astrology by infamous laws; that treat its practitioners as
fraudulent men ; yet are those practitioners cognisant of the truth
of what they profess. And this in the 19th century, when we are
told that mankind are ruled by “ science ” and by reason; which
is a plain falsehood, and will be such, while those laws exist.
Why is all this ? Just because of the infidelity of these scientific
men, who see clearly that while astrology exists, the belief in spi
ritual existence, and the intercourse with angelic beings, must and
will exist also ; and this drives these men mad; for in vain do they
hope that the end of a man is as the end of a brute. This feeling
it is that leads these very clea/r-headed “ scientific” men to scoff at
astrology, or the doctrine that the stars, or hosts of heaven, have
anything to do with the characters, or the destinies, of man, or that
they are, in fact, “the ministers of Jehovah, that do his pleasure.”
See Psalm ciii, v. 21. “Bless ye the Lord (Jehovah), all ye his hosts,
y® ministers of his, that do his pleasure.” These sceptics are the
leading men of science in our day; but let us ask, “In what they are
one whit superior to the great men of olden times, whose names
have come down to us, as believers in, and practitioners of astrology?” We will here set forth some of these truly great and good
m®n; none of whom were of the narrow-minded class of men, who
/pretend to judge and condemn what they have never yet examined.
■ Among the Indians we find Buddha and Viera Maditya. Among
the Persians, Zoroaster. Among the Phenicians, Berosus. Among
the Jews, Josephus, Aben Esra, Maimonides, and very many others,
besides the Sacred Writers.
Among the Greeks we find a perfect galaxy of great names : these
are—Thales, Anaximander, Pythagoras, Anaxagoras, Aristotle, SoD 3
�46
FACTS AND FALLACIES.
[ZADKIEL'S
crates, Plato, Eudoxus, Aratus, Hippocrates, Porphyry, Proclus,
Homer, and Hesiod, &c., &c. Among the Egyptians, Mercurius,
Trismegistus and Claudius Ptolemy.
Among the Arabians, Messahala, Albategnius, Alfraganus, Half,
Alphard, Haly Ben Rodoan, Haly Alrachid, Alkindus, Alpheagius ,
Albumazar, &c.
Among the Romans, Cicero, Nigidius Figulus, Virgil, Horace,
Manilius, Juvenal, and very many others. Among the Moderns,
Roger Bacon, Melancthon, Cardan, Lord Bacon, Nostradamus, Baron
Napier, Tycho Brahe, Kepler, Hobbes, Cornelius Agrippa, Arch
bishop Usher, Dr. John Butler, Bishop Hall, Sir Edward Kelly,
John Dryden the poet, Sir Matthew Hale the learned judge, Sir
George Wharton, Placidus de Titus the learned monk of Spain, Sir
Christopher Haydon, Mr. George Mitchell, Astronomer Royal at
Portsmouth, Mr. Flamstead,first Astronomer Royal at Greenwich,
Le Due de Valney, George Digby, Earl of Bristol, Sir Elias Ashmole,
Dr. Culpepper, Dr. Dee, John Milton the poet, Drs. Starkey,
Paitridge, Moore, &c., Sir Richard Steele, and very many others.
But, as has been said, it can serve no good purpose to set forth
more names, since no other science than astrology can offer among
its upholders such a list of never-dying men. If these names do
not affect and shame the men of our day, then are they wilfully deaf
to reason and argument, and obstinately shut out the light of
heaven, lest it should irradiate their understanding and convince
them that they are but men of low and humble conceptions, in no
shape qualified to determine the pathless ways of God, or to mea
sure the extent of His omnipotence.
Burns has justly written of them :—
“ What’s a’ the jargon of your schools,
Your Latin names for horns and stools ?
If honest Nature made yon fools,
What sairs your grammars ?
Ye’d better ta’en up spades and shools,
Or knappin hammers.”
“ A set o’ dull conceited hashes,
Confuse their brains in college classes!
They gang in sticks and come out asses
Plain truth to speak.”
FOREKNOWLEDGE.
“ God foreshews what it is to come upon men, not to grieve
them, but that, when they know it beforehand, they may by
prudence make the actual experience of what is foretold the more
tolerable.”—Whiston’s Josephus, chap. 5, page 66.
�ALMANAC. J
47
PROVIDENCE, OB CHANCE.
How cursed the land, how sad the nation, where
First sprang the thoughts of those, who, worse than
demons, dare
To teach that Chance may rule, or Accident may reign.
And kind, unfailing Providence not deign
To shew its mighty sway! No reason—no design,
But all one blank, that none could yet define.
What! Earth’s wild-rolling seas, and rocks, and trees,
And all the vast variety one sees,
Came helter-skelter hither—none know how!
And shall the sane man to this doctrine bow ?
Shall this be taught, and none have any sense
To scout the base idea, and hold for Providence ?
’Tis ours to teach another law, and hold
That all, ay all, from where the Lion bold,
In Afric’s hot domain, stalks dominant,
Or the huge Elephant, down even to the Ant,
J
Or to the trifling Sparrow, numerous,
Obey one only law, as congruous,
They do their Maker’s will—to live or die.
His hand, seen everywhere, can all supply:
’Tis he alone gives all they have to all his foes,
And rescues those He loves from all their woes.
He is the deep, Inscrutable ! the MIGHTY GOD !
Untold in numbers, Demons fear his rod,
And tremble when He frowns ! Suns are no more,
No longer heard the dread Volcano’s roar;
Earth fades to nothing ; all Creation fails ;
If He but speak the word, e’en Heaven quails !
And all reverts to Darkness, dead, original;
As ere the Light came forth when He did call:
So great, unspeakable is Cabud Al*
’’
He is the Great To Pan—the First, the Last;
The Vast Unknown ; who governed all the Past,
And all the Future knows. Himself unseen,
In one vast hidden space, has ever been;
Unknown to all, e’en angels, who bow down,
And cast before His feet their brightest crown.
From thence He spake, and forthwith sprang the Light;
Th® Sun assumed his form—the Moon came into sight.
Thence He commands, and Earthquakes shake the Land;
Thence calls the Hurricane—Lightnings from His hand
* Cabud Al—the glory, might, or majesty of God!
And mn'
Cabto Jehovah, the Glory of Jehovah!
�48
PROVIDENCE, OR CHANCE.
[ZADKIEL
Fly swiftly o’er the sea ; and dire disease
Sweeps man from off the earth. So, when he please,
The sea may be no more, and barren be the land,
As when wild tempests strike the rock-bound strand.
He gives invention to the mind, and love of kind ;
Courage to the brave, and patience to the hind ;
Beauty to the maid, and wisdom to the head ;
And teaches each man how to gain his bread.
Yes ; all things, or none, arise from Providence ;
To idle Chance, then, let us all cry, “ Hence 1”
If all things, then the works of nature still obey,
And do His will—the moon by night, the sun by day.
And all the powers of all the stars exclaim,
And speak the wonders of His glorious Name !
From the cold point, ycleped “ the Cynosure,”
To where Orion’s lambent light and pure,
Embraces Procyon’s brilliant flame ;
And many a star, of unestablished name,
Pales its bright fire, when Sirius bursts to sight;
Down where the Southern Cross illumes the night.
See the fair victim of old Neptune’s ire,
Andromeda—see Menkar, and see Algol’s fire,
With red Aldebaran, light Capella on her way ;
Where Castor and where Pollux hold their sway.
Next glitters o’er the main, bright Rigel far,
In southern sky ; and in the north Auriga’s star.
Then see the Lion all his treasures hold ;
See Prsecepe and Regulus the bold,
Put forth their powers. See beauteous Spica shew
In Virgo ; and Arcturus, all in Libra’s row.
Next comes the bold Centaur, in Scorpio seen,
Where Antar’s rubious light completes the scene.
These, and a thousand others, influence man ;
Who thinks, in vain, their character to scan.
As blind, he peers where wondrous comets fly,
When wars burst forth and tens of thousands die
So when Eclipses mar the light of day,
And mark o’er man, impotent, all their sway;
Strike down the weak, and terrify the strong;
Such unknown powers to the stars belong.
Yet doth the sceptic see these move and shine,
But not perceive their Maker’s power divine !
Shall ignorant man still dare to question how
They spring and how they shine, and yet not bow,
As taught by nature—wisdom—common sense,
Before the majesty of mighty Providence ?
R, J. M.
�ALMANAC.]
49
ON THE CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE OF BRITAIN.
Nearly the oldest observer of the national characteristics of the
sundry people of the world, is undoubtedly Claudius Ptolemy. He
says of the natives of this country, that they are “ impatient of
restraint! lovers of freedom, warlike, industrious, imperious, cleanly
and high-minded” (jTetrabiblos, book 2); and he adds that “they
regard women with scorn and indifferencebut that they are still
careful of the community, brave and faithful, affectionate in their
families, and perform good and kind actions.” Yet he says that
the people of Britain, &c., “ have a greater share of familiarity with
Aries and Akars ; and the inhabitants are, accordingly, wilder, bolder
and more ferocious.”
These are the chief of Ptolemy’s notes on the people of England,
generally. He clearly places them under Mars, essentially, and
under Aries (the house of Mars), particularly. But before we
attempt to examine the truth of these statements, we will note the
words of the great Roman poet, who treats on the particular influ
ences of Aries. Of course, we allude to Manilius. He says very
truly and very beautifully, book 5 :—
“For when the world was framed, the Mighty Cause
These powers bestow’d and did enact these laws,
How signs should work, how stars agree,
And settled all things by a firm decree,”
He then describes the first important figure in the sign Aries, viz.,
the ship:—
“ And now, as victor o’er the conquered deep,
He keeps his power and still commands the ship ;
For when the Northern Rudder rears its flame,
And in the fourth degree first joins the Ram,
Whoever’s born shall be to sail inclined;
He’ll plough the ocean, and he’ll tempt the wind ;
He o’er the seas shall love or fame pursue,
And other months another Phasis view :
Fixed to the rudder, he shall boldly steer,
And pass those rocks, which Typhys us’d to fear.
Had no such births been born, Troy’s walls had stood,
No wind-bound navy bought a gale“ with blood ;
No Xerxes Persia o’er the ocean roll’d,
Dug a new sea, nor yet confin’d an old;
No Athens sunk by Syracusian shores,
Nor Lybia’s seas been chok’d with Punic oars ;
Nor had the world in doubt at Actium stood,
Nor Heaven’s great fortune floated on the flood.
Such births as these their hopes to seas resign,
Ships spread their sails, and distant nations join ;
�50
CHARACTER OF THE BRITISH.
[zadkiel’s
The world divided, mutual wants invite
To close again, and friendly ships unite?
Here we read the judgment of that great astrologer, Mamilius, |
who spoke of the men of Britain, as though he had lived after Nelson, 1
or been contemporary with Blake or Boscawen, or had had the |
advantage of fighting under a Brenton or Lord Cockrane, or any I
other of our great naval heroes. For very correctly does Ptolemy I
place Britain under the influence of Aries; and just as truly does the I
poet point out the peculiar bent, or inclinations, of the men born
with that sign rising. It is to this that England owes her naval |i
greatness ; to the natural-born courage of her sailors, joined with Jr
their free, wandering propensities. These it is that lead them to k
“ plow the ocean and to tempt the winds.” And until “ the powers p
of the Heavens shall be shaken,” shall these things produce their |i
natural results. And not until then shall Britain cease to be the fo
sovereign of the seas.
I
Let us now examine what Ptolemy says of the character of our »;
countrymen. We accord with him in all his remarks; and wefe
regret that he speaks so truly of the evil propensity of our people |i.
to treat with scorn the female sex. Have we not always, from his ki
day to our own, treated females with even worse than “indifference ?” r
Have we not allowed them to feel their supposed inferiority ? Does k
not the law render a married woman, in particular, perfectly help-|rj
less, and treat her complaints with “ scorn ? ” Is she not robbed of |q
her property and rendered miserable, too often, by the wretched
man who has got possession of her person and hei’ property by
means of a little set form of ecclesiastical jabber at the altar7
And if this injustice be avoided, is it not so, more by the husband
being “affectionate,” than by any help of the law, or by public
approbation 7 Ptolemy goes on to say that the people are “ wild,
Is
bold and ferocious.” T it not so ? Can any man deny the truth of p
this accusation 7 Does not their “ ferocity ” shew itself in a con■
tinued effort to treat offenders in the most unchristian and unfor■ K
giving spirit 7 Can it be doubted that not many years since we ip
flogged m§n to death in the army and navy; and that we go near to (¡T
do so now in our prisons 7 Not only do we practise bodily torture onk<
offenders in our prisons, but we treat women with “scorn” by the huge?
and beastly iniquities of the “Contagious Diseases ” Acts; and wer.
punish by fine and imprisonment mothers and fathers who hold ink
contempt the disgusting iniquities of the “Vaccination” Acts. Nay,h;
we are now passing a law to flog men for wife-beating; thus demon-L
strating our national character for the ill treatment of women andk.:
for brutal “ ferocity.” Moreover, we flog men for begging and «uchjic
T
acts of “vagrancy,” and our House of Commons upholds sucl p
*
“ferocious” doings, as if to shew that Ptolemy judged us right?
and by no means too severely.
�ij ¡almanac.]
AIDS TO FORETELL WEATHER.
51
I If we look at the present Government’s acts, we find that in India
owe recently put to a horrible death, by blowing them away from
sixty-five out of eighty-nine prisoners captured—a piece of
«brutal and cowardly conduct, that no man in England would dare
flio enact towards dogs. Again, in the House of Commons, on the
ilst June, 1872, we find it stated that one Joseph Townsend was
harged with being an “ incorrigible rogue,” and, was sentenced to
eceive thirty-six lashes with the cat. The Daily News, 22nd June,
\A872, informs us that hereupon “ Mr. Bruce said that the man in
■xj question had several times been convicted of vagrancy, and that
: :pe did not think that the magistrates had exceeded their j urisdiction.”
usCanwe wonder at this cruelty when we know that Maria Tranter is
r<now undergoing five years' penal servitude for an act of vagrancy,
\wiz, for defrauding a man of the sum of one shilling, by pretending to
jjfchow him in a magic crystal the face of a man who had robbed him.
iiiBuah as these are the cruel laws, which fully confirm the assertion
of Ptolemy, that the people of Britain are “ferocious.” Of course, this
ipplies more decidedly to men who are born with Mars rising at
^Lheir birth. If at the same time Mars have any evil aspect to the
..gun or Moon, they become furious and ungovernable, cruel and
¿.¡malicious; and such men fully bear out all that Ptolemy has
dleclared
i
4
AIDS TO THE FORETELLING OF THE WEATHER.
j
{From Ramesey, Astrologia Munda, chap, x.)
Aq
in conjunction of Jupiter in fiery signs, signifies a great
•Httrought; in airy signs, plenty of wind; in watery, floods, continual
lifain ; also inundations and overflowings of water ; in earthy, earthcibuakes and the fall of houses and ecaduation of trees. Judge also
rfhe same when they are in a malicious square or opposition. [But
cjMess extensively.] Saturn in conjunction, square or opposition of Mars
zytn watery signs, denotes rain in winter, autumn and summer ; and
summer oftentimes thunder and lightning ; especially if in fiery
.coigns. In autumn and winter windy, dry weather, when in fiery
■ Jigns. In airy signs in all seasons great winds and sometimes
qwain.
s!«| Nohwrn in conjunction, square or opposition of the Sun, in the
Iwpring denotes cold, rain or hail. In summer much rain, with
^thunder and lightning, according to the nature of the sign. In
. jAutumn tempestuous, stormy weather. And in winter grievous cold,
jdnowy, slabby weather.
uJ Saturn in conjunction, square or opposition of Venus, promises in
.ijihe spring rain and cold ; in summer sudden cold; in autumn
jjkuch rain ; and in winter rain and snow ; especially if the sign be
d'jpatery.
�52
AIDS TO FORETELL WEATHER.
[zadkiel’;
Saturn in conjunction, square or opposition of Mercury, signifie;
wind and rain in the spring ; especially in watery and airy signs
also in summer wind and showers. But if they be in fiery signs
thunder lightning and rain or hail. In autumn wind and cold
according to the nature of the signs ; and in winter cold and snow
Jupiter in conjunction, square or opposition of Mars shews tht
spring to be windy and tempestuous ; a thundering and lightning
summer; rain and storms in autumn ; and in winter cold snows
and sharp winds, according to the nature of the signs.
Jupiter in conjunction, square or opposition of the Sun, in tht
spring signifieth high winds; in summer thunder and lightnnig
and in autumn vehement winds. But in the winter very dry, cold
frosty weather. For the most part they signify thus in everj
sign.
e/zqoiter in conjmiction, square or opposition of Venus, shews
temperate air, according to the nature of the season, all the yea!
long. Yet if they be in watery signs they incline somewhat t«
misling showers.
Jupiter in conjunction, square or opposition of Mercury, denote!
great and vehement winds in every quarterthey are so aspected,
*!!
in airy signs; in watery signs rain ; and in fiery thunder and light
ning, but of no great continuance.
Mars in d , □ or g of the Sun, in fiery signs, promiseth drough I
in summer, dry air in the spring ; in autumn and winter frost; i
watery signs, showers in the spring ; in summer thunder and rain i
in autumn showers, in winter rain and cold.
Mars in d , □ or g of Venus in the spring, will cause sudde; i
great and violent rains ; in the summer and autumn tempests ; bi:
if in fiery signs, or each other’s house, great thunders and ligh f
nings.
Mars in d, □ or g of Mercury in fiery signs causes heat as i
drought in summer; but rain if in watery signs, and sometim
thunder and lightning. In autumn sudden great winds ; and j
winter cold.
The Sun in d of Venus, in the spring causeth rain ; in summ i@
tempests and rain; in the autumn showers and wind; in wint p
much moisture.
The Sunns, d of Mercury, denotes wind and moisture, especially y
watery and airy signs; but in fiery a serene air in summer ai i
frosty in winter. Venus in
Mercury rain in the spring, summ n
and autumn; and snow in the winter and sudden high winds. A]|K
in the summer they raise storms and tempests.
'
Judge also the same in everyone being in sextile or trine ; bl
you must know they are not altogether so bad.
J
[Ramesey might have said also that these inferior aspects fi
quently pass by without doing more than causing the sky to iSd
�AUJANAC.j
FREEMASONRY.
53
overcast with clouds, instead of producing absolutely rain. We must
also remark the parallels of declination, marked p. d. in this Alma
nac ; as they are nearly as potent as even the conjunction.
There are many other rules for judging the weather; but it will
be time enough to learn these, when the student shall have well
mastered the above.—Z.J
FREEMASONRY.
What was the meaning of the ceremonies practised in the Mys
teries, or Ancient Freemasonry ? is an enquiry that has been long
pursued, but hitherto, as is well known, without any satisfactory
result.
The Rev. Dr. Oliver (“History of Institution,’’ page 26) says,
“The mysteries were proclaimed the beginning of a new life of
reason and virtue (Cic De Heg., ii, 14), and the initiated or esoteric
companions were said to entertain the most agreeable anticipations
^respecting death and eternity (Isoc. Panegyr.); to comprehend all
the hidden mysteries of nature (Clem. Strom. 5); to have their soul
restored to the state of perfection from which it had fallen, and at
their death to be elevated to the supernal mansions of the Gods.
(Plat. Phsed.) They were believed also to convey much temporal
felicity and to afford absolute security amidst the most imminent,
dangers by land or water. (Schol. in Aristoph. Iren., v, 275.) A
public odium was studiously cast on those who refused the rites.
(Warb. Div. Leg., i, p. 140.) They were considered as profane
wretches unworthy of public employment or private confidence
(Plat. Phsed.), sometimes proscribed as obdurate atheists (Lucian.
Daemon), and finally condemned to everlasting punishment. (Ori
gen, cont. Cels, 1. viii.) The mysteries professed to be a short and
certain step to universal knowledge, and to elevate the soul to
absolute perfection; but the means were shrouded under the
impenetrable veil of secrecy, sealed by oaths and penalties the
most tremendous and appalling. (Alleurs. Eleusin., c. xx.) Innu
merable ceremonies, wild and romantic, had been engrafted on
the few expressive symbols of primitive observance ; and instances
have occurred where the terrified aspirant, during the protracted
rites, has absolutely expired through excess of fear. But the
potent spell which sealed the authority of the hierophant was the
horrid custom, resorted to in times of pressing danger or calamity,
of immolating human victims. (Diod. Sic., 1. v ; Strabo, 1. iv ;
Euseb. Orat. ad Const.) The selection of victim was commonly
the prerogative of the chief hierophant. (Samones, Brit., i, p. 104.)
The most careful selection and preparation were necessary to deter
mine who were fitted for these important disclosures; and for this
�64
EKEEMASONKY.
[zadkikl’s
purpose they were subjected to a lengthened probation of four
years (Tertul. adv. Valentín.) before it was considered safe to
admit them into the Sanctum Sanctorum, to become depositaries
of those truths the disclosure of which might endanger not only
the institution, but also the authority of the civil magistrate.
Hence to reveal the mysteries was the highest crime a person
could commit, and was usually punished by an ignominious death,
embittered by denunciations of the hottest pains of Tartarus in
another world. (Clem. Stram.; 2. Sam.; Petit in Lege Attic., p. 33.
Si quis arcana? mysteria Cereris sacra vulgasset lege morti addicebatur.) The places of initiation were contrived with much art and
ingenuity, and the machinery with which they were fitted up was
calculated to excite every passion and affection of the mind. Thus
the hierophant could rouse the feelings of horror and alarm, light
up the fire of devotion, or excite terror and dismay; and when the
soul had attained its highest climax of apprehension, he was fur
nished with the means of soothing it to peace by phantasmagoric
visions of flowery meads, purling streams, and all the tranquil
scenery of nature in its most engaging form, accompanied with
strains of heavenly music—the figurative harmony of the spheres.
These places were indifferently a pyramid, a pagoda or a laby
rinth. The iabyrinths of Egypt, Crete, Lemnos and Italy were
equally designed for initiation into the mysteries (Fab. Cag. Idol.,
iii, p. 269), furnished with vaulted rooms, extensive wings connected
by open and spacious galleries, multitudes of secret dungeons,
subterranean passages, and vistas terminating in adyta, which were
adorned with mysterious symbols carved on the walls and pillars,
in every one of which was enfolded some philosophical or moral
truth. The pagans entertained such a very high opinion of the
mysteries that one of their best writers attributes the dissolution
of the Roman polity to their suppression. He says (Josinus, 1. ii,
p. 671), “Whilst therefore the mysteries were performed according
to the appointment of the oracle, and as they really ought to be
done, the Roman empire was safe, and they had in a manner the
whole world in subjection to them ; but the festivals having been ''
neglected from the time that Diocletian abdicated, they have
decayed and sunk into oblivion.
We shall endeavour first to ascertain the meaning of mythology.
That once determined, there is a short and easy method with the
mysteries. These were of much later origin than mythology; and
just as the mysteries that were presented four or five hundred
years ago were dramatic exhibitions ci the Scripture mythology, as
Dr. Colenso and others would term it, so the ancient mysteries
were mere dramatic presentment? fa mythology older than these
same mysteries. Of course no cne would attempt to make out the
meaning of Scripture by a study of the mysteries of the 15th
century.
�U| ALMANAC.]
FREEMASONRY.
It should be remembered, that what to us is mythology was to
hi1 Pagans religion. Jupiter and Neptune, now the subjects of fable
merely, had their temples, priests and sacrifices. It is not true that
tnese
been
mj these fables are the fables of books only: they have in all ages been
..................................
" blood
,................................ „
h) written in characters of ” ’ and fire, in widow-burning by
uti Hindoos and in Druse massacres, still in course of perpetration.
1 ' Professor Max Muller thinks he shows that widow-burning arose
from a mistake in the meaning of a single word of the Rig. Veda. If
9m the hidden meaning of the various mythologies, constituting the
sacred book of the heathen, could be deciphered, and shown to refer
id to something else than religion, an end would be put to these evils ;
it. Ji
but as long as these sacred books are thought to have the sanctions
ra of religion, their real meaning being unknown, so long these evils
Ri|will endure.
To investigate, therefore, the nature of mythology is an enter
fit prise of the utmost practical importance. Mythology, after all, is
or should be the great quest: on of the day, even in this fastidiously
Ripractical nineteenth century.
Let him who subscribes his guineas to put down false religions
<>r fanatical wars look to this. In another and orthodox point of
ft’ view, and in the words of Wilkinson (Egypt, iv, p. 166), “ When we
reflect that the allegorical religion of the Egyptians contained many
Kii important truths founded upon early revelations, made to mankind
nj and treasured up in secret to prevent their perversion, we may be
disposed to look more favourably on the doctrines they entertained,
jdjand to understand why it was considered worthy of the divine
legistator to be learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians.
Pi We are to show reasons for believing that the basis of m taology
was a certain natural science, or the authority of the amients, and
of course we must interpret the ancients by the ancien's
There is a science, as the ancients believed, the nr st important
vuuvv
w*
nxivxvv
that can be vvxivvxivv J; XVI XV uvwxw with the whole destiny of man,
conceived for it deals nxuxi
F® not only with all the events that will happen to him, as birth,
srrimarriage, occupation, death, but also with his very nature and
marriage,
constitution, mental and bodily. It is self-evident that this is the
all-important thing : it is importance itself: nothing else could be
St» so fit for the foundation of the imposing pomps and ceremonials of
the mysteries and religions. I need only mention the name of
„
___ ..
M Astrology, or the science of foretelling future events, of reading the
O fate of men and of empires in the positions of the heavenly
^bodies.
But the mere general knowledge of astrology, possessed by astro
W
Hog ers, has not hitherto enabled them to solve the great mytho■'? ) logical problems, any more than the general knowledge of mechanics,
EOt1 r ■
... i possessed by the mechanicians of bygone ages, had enabled them to
’
------ ------------------------------ — — —v o----------- o~'
i
yp invent the steam-engine ; and so on with other sciences. So there
�56
FREEMASONRY.
[zadkiel’s
is a certain and peculiar and entirely original application of astro
logy, which we shall introduce as necessary and sufficient for
unravelling the mysteries of mythology.
Before however proceeding to this application, it may be satisfac
tory, though not necessary, to give prima facie reasons for believing
that mythology is astrology. Landseer observes (Sab. Res. p. 191),
“ If the secrets of the mysteries were astronomical, or were so even
in part, the same religious dread which would account for their
being so rarely, if ever, divulged, accounts also for the little that
has been directly imparted and the much that has been withheld
of ancient astronomy.
JEschylus occasionally deals in astronomical notices, blending
with them the sacred charm and elevated pathos of his poetry.
And it is known that rEschylus would have been in danger of
capital punishment for revealing the mysteries, had he not been
able to prove to the satisfaction of the Areopagus that he never was
initiated. Again, why is Herodotus so chary and so vague in his
astronomical notices, when treating of the ancient Sabean nations ?
Why so much freemasonry ? Why, in mentioning the deified
animals of Egypt, which were of astronomic reference, does he fear
to disclose the reasons of their being held sacred ? Why put off his
readers with,“ If I were to explain these reasons I should be led to
the disclosure of those holy matters which I particularly wish to
avoid, and which but from necessity I should not have discussed
at all P
In the “Io” of Plato, Socrates says, “Homer and Hesiod both
write of things that relate to divination” (Astrology is divination.)
Io—“ True.” Soc—“ Well, now, the passages in either of these
poets, relating to divination, who, think you, is capable of inter
preting with most skill and judgment, yourself or some able
diviner
Io—“ An able diviner, I must own.”
Ritter remarks on the Timseus, “ Now as the work of the created
gods possesses such power over the rational soul, the gods who
formed it—the stars—must exercise no inconsiderable influence
upon the lot of all mortal creatures. Plato accordingly believedj
that the fate of man is dependant on the complicated motions of
the stars, and that, by a due and careful contemplation of the
heavens, his future destiny may be discovered.”—Ancient Philo
sophy, p, 374.
That the planets were the real gods of the Egyptians is evident,
if, as is constantly asserted, the gods of that people were the same
as the gods of the Greeks ; “ The seven planets being, in the
words of the philosopher Albricus, the seven first gods of the
heathen, whom he arranged in this order: Saturn, Jupiter, Mars,
Apollo, Venus, Mercury and the Moon.”
Thus Albricus, p. 171: Saturnus primus deorum supponebatur j
�FREEMASONRY.
57
*Æars tertius deorum dictus est. This order is adopted, in modern
.iastrology, in the planetary arrangement of the days of the week,
¡and depends on the increase of distance and decrease of the ap.1 parent motion of those bodies.
*
i The same order (see Macrobius) is observed in the Demotic
1 tablets discovered by the Rev. H. Hobart. Wilkinson remarks,
! that “ Clemens of Alexandria, too, placed in the first class of Pagan
. deities the stars or heavenly bodies. The summary of Egyptian
theology, given by Diogenes Laertius from Manetho and Hecatæus,
is in the same spirit, which considers that matter was the first
principle, and the sun and moon the first deities of that people.”
Ritter (Indian Philosophy, p. 90), observes, “ In the more ancient
portion of the Vedas, physical religion prevails. The heavenly
bodies are worshipped as gods.”
We have the following expression in the Cratylus of Plato :—
“ The only gods are the sun, moon and stars.”
In the Timæus the gods are spoken of as revolving—“ As many as
visibly revolve.” Porphyry excelled, as Taylor observes, in all
philosophical knowledge, and was called
“the philoso
pher.” He treats the gods as visible—“ Which gods are as you now
see;” and again (ii, 37)—“To the remaining gods, therefore, to the
world, to the inerratic and erratic stars who are visible gods.”
Of these he says, (ii, 36)—“The Pythagoreans frequently implored
their aid in divination, and if they were in want of a certain thing
for the purpose of some investigation. In order, therefore, to effect
this, they made use of the gods within the heavens, both the
• “Nous avons vu que l'ordre des planètes, selon la croyance des anciens et
aussi des Egyptiens, était Saturne, Jupiter, Mars, Vénus, Mercure. Dans les
quatre tablettes dont nous nous occupons, et où les cinq p'anètes se suivent 28
fois dans le même ordre, il est à croire que cet ordre des noms sera le même
que les anciens.”
This order is said to prevail in the attributing the days of the week to the
planets, according to the order of their rule over the hours of the day; each
day bearing the name of the planet ruling its first hour, as thus : the first hour
of Saturday being dedicated to Saturn, the second to Jupiter, and so on; the
25th, or first hour of the next day, is that of the Sun, which gives its name to
the day; and so on with Monday, or Lundi, Maidi, Mercredi, Jeudi, Ven
dredi—Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.
The sarcophagi of the monarchs of the 18th dynasty were decorated with
representations of the Sun Mythos—the passage of the Sun through the twelve
hours of the day and those of the night. The Sun passes in a bark, always
accompanied by seven deities, who differ according to the hour, and who appear
to represent the Moon and planetary system. This forms a clue to the mythology
of the 18th and 19th dynasties.—Birch, on the Determination of the Relative
Epochs of Mummies (p. 374).
This system of “ planetary hours,” though at least as old as the 18th dynasty,
appears to be a late affection of astrology. Herbs ruled by the various planets
are gathered in the hours respectively dedicated to those planets.
�58
FREEMASON11V.
[ZADKlKtS t
erratic and non-erratic, of all of whom it is requisite to consider the
sun as the leader, but to rank the moon in the second place; and
we should conjoin with these fire (or Mars) in the third place, from
its alliance with them, according to the theologists. We must call,
therefore, the nature of the stars, and such things as we perceive
together with the stars, the visible gods.—Plato, Epinanis, p. 401.—■
I n the Timeeus the planets are called celestial beings.
The first inventors of astrology were kings, then priests, or
augurs, who derived their augury from the celestial signs. Belus,
king of Babylon, is referred to, and other kings of the Chaldeans
and Assyrians, as Zoroaster, king of the Bactrians. Among the
Egyptians no one but an astrologer was appointed priest. “ Those
who were appointed to the worship of the gods were Chaldeans,
most skilful in astrology.” (Pliny, xxx, 1; Justin., 1. 6.) “The Egyp
tians,” says Wilkinson (iv, p. 153), “predicted future events, both
relative to private occurrences and natural phenomena; for which
purpose Diodorus (i, 81) tells us they took advantage of their skill
m arithmetical calculations; this last being of the highest im
portance to them in the study of astrology. For the Egyptians
most accurately observe the order and movement of the stars,
preserving their remarks upon each for an incredible number of
years ; that study having been followed by them from the earliest
times. They most carefully note the movements, revolutions and
positions of the planets, as well as the influences possessed by each
upon the birth of animals, whether productive of good or evil.
And they frequently foretell what is about to happen to mankind
with the greatest accuracy, showing the failure and abundance of
crops, or the epidemic diseases about to befall men or cattle ; and
earthquakes, deluges, the rising of comets, and all those phenomena,
the knowledge of which appears impossible to vulgar comprehen
sions, they foresee by means of their long-continued observations.
It is indeed supposed that the Chaldeans of Babylon arrived at their
celebrity in astrology in consequence of what they derived from
the priests of Egypt. The art of predicting future events, as
practised in the Greek temples, says Herodotus (ii, 58), came from
the Egyptians'' (See Diod. Sic., ii, 31.) Each of these temples wa3
a planetarum, says Morgan (p. 57), or representation of the heavens»
The principles on which they are constructed are strictly astro
nomical. From the importance they attached to the study of astro
nomy the Druids were termed by the Greeks Saranidee (serenyddion,
from the Kymric seren, a star), astronomers. Their system of edu
cation appears to have embraced a wide range of arts and sciences.
The lowest degree of the mysteries of the Druids conveyed the
power of vaticination, in its minor divisions. Borlase (Ant. Corn.,
p. 67), says, the Eubates or Vates were of the third or lowest class ;
their name, as some think, being derived from Thada, which
�^RlmanAC.]
59
. .¡amongst tlie Irish commonly signifies magic; and their business
Ams to foretell future events.
The Druids practised augury for the public service of the State;
< mt L
7
■; ~ ..
d-¡while-------------- the Eubates were merely fortune-tellers. (Oliver, Hist. Init.,
v
x
?
J ,k 226.) Fosbroke remarks, “The Druids and Etrurian augurs, like
“
the V/lltblLlCai-liS, told fortunes by the planets. Eruidism is not
tile Chaldeans, UVAVA AVALIAAACO KJJ VAAA> jAAUlAAA, VA3. A--/ cvvwvv.iv w ! wt
ta extinct : it still exists in Ceylon, where it is termed Baliism. These
extinct
Cingalese worshippers of the stars generally conceal their opinions.
Townley says the worship consists entirely of adoration to the
heavenly bodies, invoking them in consequence of the supposed
hi influence they have on the affairs of men. The priests are great
1ft astronomers, and believed to be thoroughly skilled in the power and
10 influence of the planets. (Loss, vol.ii, p. 161.)—“ The usual appellation
given by the bards to the sacred inclosure of an open temple was
11 the mundane circle ; and Faber says that the ark was called the
M circle of the world. It follows, therefore, the open circular temple
was thè representation of the ark, which was anciently denominated
fe! CJaer Gaur, or the Great Cathedral, or the Mundane Ark. (In., p. 189.)
P “ The general name of the sanctuary where the peculiar mysteries of
$ Ueridwen were formally celebrated was Caer Sidi, the circle of
©■ revolution, so called from the well-known form of the Druidical
¡9. temple. This phrase, according to Mr. Davies, implies, in the first
hj place, the ark in which the patriarch and his family were enclosed ;
^secondly, the circle of the Zodiac; in which emblems the sun,
i Imoon and planets revolved ; thirdly, the sanctuary of the British
which
r Ceres, _ .. represented both the ark and the Zodiac. (Davies
Myth. Druid., p. 516.)
THE RULE OF GOD OVER THE HEAVENS,
OR HEAVENLY BODIES.
’ In numerous places do we find in the Scriptures the most direct
a assertion that God rules the stars; which is often poetically mend tioned as His riding on them. Thus in the 68th Psalm, 4th verse,
V We read, “ Sing unto God, sing praises to His name ; extol Him that
A- rideth upon the heavens, by His name Jah,” And again in the 32nd
verse we find it written, “Ye kingdoms of the earth, 0 sing praises
li unto the Ruler, Selah.” Our version renders the word MTN, Adoni,
;< by the terms “ the Lord but we contend that being formed from ¡‘"J.
C Dan, a Judge or Ruler, and considering that the translators most
i frequently render the word HIFT', Jehovah, by “ the Lord,” we
>1 do not see why this word Adoni should also be made to have .the
3i| same meaning exactly. This becomes more obviously questionable,
w when we go on to read the 33rd verse, thus : “ To Him that rideth
i, upon the heavens of heavens, which were of old and when we
>i read in the following verse that “the strength of God is in the
�60
THE RULE OF GOD.
[zADKIEl’s '
heavens,” as it is rightly rendered in the margin, since the evanescent
“clouds” certainly cannot be thought,for a moment, to depict the ■
strength of God. AVell, here we find that God is said to ride upon :
the heavens of heavens, which were of old. Now, what can this
signify, but that God is the Ruler of the heavens, which, although
moved by His servants, the angels, are yet altogether subject to
His will, whose fiat first called them into existence ? Rightly, there
fore, did David, in the 20th verse, 69th Psalm, say, “Let the heavens:
and the earth praise Him ; the seas, and everything that moveth i
therein.”
We will now give the original Greek of the twenty-fifth verse ofj
the thirteenth chapter of St. Mark’s Gospel, wherein the words
of our Blessed Lord are related, and we will follow these by the
Latin Vatican translation, made for the use of the Catholi :
Church, and termed “the Vulgate.” We shall then present the
French translation by Jaques de Bay, made in 1572, which is
considered to be extremely accurate; and, finally, we shall otter
the authorised translation of the Protestant Testament, and *llow
o
with our own literal rendering. The reader will then perceive that
our Saviour did actually and forcibly declare the existence of th#
influences, or virtud^ or powers, which are in the heavenly bodies.
1st. The Greek runs thus : Kai ol atrfspsf tov ovzavov ’'ercvra^
sr.wlwrovTSS, xal al Svvaasif, at ev to7$ ocpavoi$ trateufycroyi'ai.
2nd The Vulgate Latin for this passage is as follows : Et stellse
cceli erunt decidentes, et virtutes, quae in ccelis sunt, movebuntur.
3rd. The old French translation runs thus : “ Et les estoilles du
ciel cherront, et les vertus qui sont es cieux, seront esmues.”
4th. The authorized Protestant Testament has, “And the stars
of heaven shall fall, and the powers that are in heaven shall be
shaken.”
We shall now give the rendering we conceive to be literal and in
exact accordance with the original Greek. It is this : “ And the
stars of heaven shall fail, and the powers that are in the heavens^
shall be shaken.”
The first clause of the verse, if taken in the sense of the
authorized version, would import that “ the stars,” meaning thereby
the heavenly bodies in general, including fixed stars, planets and
comets, should absolutely fall down, on, to, or towards the earth.
But if we examine the word in the original which our version
renders “fall,” viz., ¿/.■zvmTorrff, ekpiptontes, we find it formed
truly from the verb
pipto, to fall ; but not in the direct and
palpable sense of falling down, but in the metaphorical sense of
failing. Thus, when Mr. Parkhurst says “the word is used to
express the destruction of the heavenly bodies, i.e., then fall from
*
�ALMANAC, j
Gl
THE RULE CT GOD
heaven,”* he foolishly adopts the idea of the failure or destruction
of the heavenly bodies being “ their fall from heaven,” as if they
were merely toys ; as if, in fact, they could fall anywhere! If we,
however, will adopt the idea of the destruction or the failure of the
heavenly bodies being signified, which we must do if we read the
preceding verse relating to the Sun being “darkened” and the Moon
ceasing to give her “ light,” we easily discover that the true reading
of the passage is, “And the stars of heaven shall fail?
But it is the latter clause of the verse, which, when truly and
grammatically translated from the Greek, becomes of such vast
importance, because it declares that there are “powers” in the heavens
which shall be, when the heavenly bodies themselves shall be found
to fail, not destroyed with them, but “shaken.” This expression
imports that those “powers” have a mission to perform during the
existence of the heavenly bodies; and that, after the destruction or
failure of these, that mission shall cease to be, although the powers
themselves may continue to exist. And this is quite consistent
with the idea that the Jews have always had, as Maimonides testi
fies, that the powers in the heavens were spiritual beings, or angels.
If so, they may be shaken, but will not, of course, be destroyed.
Now the question arises as to what these “powers which are in
the heavens” are said to be by the Evangelist. He calls them
zzi Swapels • which word is formed from ewagi;, dynamis, which
is equivalent to the Latin terms potentia, vis, virtus, that is,
“power,” “force,” “virtue.” And accordingly we see that the
Vatican Latin translation has “ Virtutes quae in coelis sunt,” the
* virtues which are in the heavens.” And the French translation
is also, “les vertus qui sont cs cieux,” that is, “the virtues which
are in the heavens.” But the word “virtus,” in Latin, signifies not
only virtue, but force, power, strength; as, for example, Deum
virtute, “ by God’s help.” Mr. Parkhurst renders the word in the
text,
dynameis, “angelical powers, angels ; whether good
©r bad.” He adds, that Wolf and others say that the Jews called
angels powers or virtues (see Jalkut Chabdasch, fol. 89, col. 4), as
.Valesius ad Euseb., p. 254 (see Praep. Evang., iv, 6), shows that the
Greeks did. But he farther adds, that this word dynameis meant
^mighty, i. e., miraculous powers? And, lastly, he says that it
signified “ the powers or hosts of heaven? i. e., the stars. “ Avvaat;
and vis in Latin often denote the armies or forces of a kingdom ;
and hence Suydgsi; rwv ovpocvwv (dynameis ton ouranon) denote
the stars, or splendid bodies with which the heavens are adorned.”
The reader will perceive that the learned Mr. Parkhurst here makes
I »jumble of the whole thing ; for he first makes the word dynameis
signify the “powers” of heaven, and then again “the stars.” Now
• "Greek and English Lexicon,
E
�62
THE RULE OF GO».
[zadkiel’s
this is absurd ; because the stars might exist and have no powers ;
as very many foolish folk declare they do. And they may exist
and have “powers,” as the astrologers contend, and as the Saviour
has declared. The cause of this jumble perhaps is, that the Jews
in early times believed all the stars, or heavenly bodies, to be
gods ; and in course of time both Jews and Greeks came to believe
that they were, as Parkhurst states, angels; which explains the ex
pressions of David in the 103rd Psalm, v. 20, where he says, “ Bless
Jehovah, ye his angels, that excel in strength, that do his command
ments;" and v. 21, “ Bless Jehovah, all ye his hosts, ye ministers of
his, that do his pleasure" Where we see the doctrine taught that
the hosts or stars of heaven do the pleasure of the Great Jehovah,
as do the angels. But it seems evident that “ the powers that are
in the heavens ” can be no other than the angels. And so Astro
logy has always taught that each planet has its angel, that “ excels
in strength,” as David says. Now these angels, or ministers of
Jehovah, wh® “do his commandments,” have been largely spoken of
by ancient writers. It will now be time, however, to show why, in
the second clause of the 25th verse of the thirteenth chapter of
Mark, I have given the words, “ that are in the heavens,” instead of
‘ that are in heaven,” as it stands in the authorised version.
The Latin and the French both correctly translate the Greek
terms ey roif oupavoi; (en tois ouranois) by “in the heavens and
as these words are in the plural form, there can be no excuse for
our translators having rendered them in the singular. The perverse
negligence with which the translators wrote the passage in the sin
gular, instead of the plural, is very evident if we refer to the
parallel passage in the 29th verse of the 24 th chapter of Matthew.
For therein we find the original Greek is in the genitive plural, viz.,
rwy ovpaytiv (ton ouranon), and the English, Latin and French all
agree in rendering it in the same manner. A mere hasty reference
to the latter passage would have been enough to prevent the blun
der in the other.
It may be well to remark here, that all the translators have
made a slip, however, in rendering the words in the 29th vei’se
of the 24th of Matthew, viz., of acrtpep wstrovvTa.i a,wo Toy ovpavov,
(oi asteres pesountai apo tou ouranou), by “the stars shall fall from
heavenfor, where dvio implies motion, it is better to render it by
“ away fromand therefore the words should be rendered by “ the
stars shall fail away from heavenwhich agrees with the passage
in Mark, and implies that they shall be destroyed. At first sight it
may appear of little moment whether we say with Mark, “the
powers that are in heaven,” or “ the powers that are in the heavens.”
But it is really very important; because the word “ heaven,” taken
in the singular, leads the mind to refer to the dwelling of the
Almighty; whereas, “the heavens” at once gives us the idea of the
�ALMANAC.]
THE INTERNATIONAL SOCIETY.
63
heavenly bodies, or stars, &c., only. Hence we know, from the true
rendering of the latter clause of Mark xiii, v. 25, and the parallel
passage, Matt, xxiv, v. 29, that our blessed Saviour did, in the
most pointed manner, record the fact of his sacred word that there
are powers or virtues in the heavenly bodies, or stars, &c., and as
these are those which we astrologers call ordinarily “ influences,”
we cannot be denied the right to claim the highest possible
authority for the doctrine we teach.
*
THE INTERNATIONAL SOCIETY.
“ Mr. B. Cochrane rosé to call the attention of the House (of
Commons) to the organisation of the International Society. The
Society was growing, and in a country like England an organisation
which sought to abolish marriage, which denied God, which denied
all rights of property, and which preached assassination, ought to be
denounced in the strongest way by all honest men.”—Daily News,
13th April, 1872.
Remarks on the above by Zadkiel.—We agree that Mr. Cochrane
has ground for alarm ; but we would ask him whence has sprung
this teaching of atheism, by the class of men likely to become
members of this denounced Society. Is it not manifest that the
doctrines taught by the so-called men of “ science ” in this country,
who openly teach that life began on this earth from the accidental
falling of a moss-covered stone, containing a bug, from an aerolite,
are the true original of the evil ? It is not the workman, who has
no leisure for such studies, even if he have the ability, that originates
and thrusts these disgusting lies into being. It is the man of
“ science ” to whom Mr. Cochrane should look ; whose doctrines he
should denounce ; and not the International Society, which simply
follows the lead of these men. Let this worthy M.P. remember that
he himself, as a member of the Legislature, has done his best to de
stroy the only true teachers of the existence of a God, as proved by
daily reference to his works, in the Heavens, or in other words, by
the science of Astrology. He has sanctioned a law that treats Astro
logy as a fraud, and punishes its professors as if they were common
vagrants, thieves and vagabonds; although the best and brightest
characters of mankind have been well known as Astrologers.
Will Mr. B. Cochrane prove his own feelings in favour of truth
and righteousness, by some attempt to amend that abominable
* The hymn called Te Deum la/udamus has for many centuries been sung by the
whole Catholic and Anglican Church. It runs thns : “To thee all angels cry aloud :
the heavens and all the powers therein.” Now what are these words to signify, if
there be no powers in the heavens, as the adversaries of astrology declare ? What
mockery to address the Deity in language devoid of meaning Yea, verily, there are
powers in the heavens, as all may know who will examine for themselves ; and these
powers are no doubt the “ministers” of God, who “do his will.”
�ttFECTS Oi' iiAliS.
[zADKlEl/s
A agrant Act ?. If so, we promise him that he will do more to check
the vile teachings of men of “ science,” and to destroy the “ Inter
national, than by a thousand speeches in the House of Commons
against the latter, as things now stand. Let him observe also that
Astrologers have never denied the existence of their Creator; and
let him learn and remember that
“ An un devout Astrologer is mad.”
NO CONJURORS CONJECTURE.
Could a Meteoric Stone,
Pray, Sir William Thomson,
Fall, with lichen overgrown ?
Say Sir William Thomson.
From its orbit having shot,
Would it, coming down red-hot,
Have all life burnt off it not ?
Eh, Sir William Thomson 1
Not? Then showers of fish and frogs
Too, Sir William Thomson,
Fall: it might rain cats and dogs.
Pooh, Sir William Thomson !
That they do come down we’re told.
As for aerolite with mould,
That’s at least too hot to hold
True, Sir William Thomson !—Punch
THE EFFECTS OF MAES IN LEO, IN ANY NATIVITY.
There is no aphorism more settled than that which teaches the
several parts of the body ruled, or influenced, by the signs of the
Zodiac. Among these we find (see page 28) that “ the Heart and
the Back ” are ruled by Leo.
Now I purpose to shew, very briefly, that this rule was evinced
in the case of His Royal Highness Prince Alfred ; and also of the
late Lord Mayo, Governor General of India.
Planets' places at 7h 50m, a.m., on the 6th August, 1844, the day
Prince Alfred was born.
O
o’? ,
f
O
4
/
0
$
/
0
0
/ 0
?
/
oU
0
D
/
5ty>59 3x?12 37,42 13SV18 13ft 53 23SB52 29 ft 20 15^46
R
R
R
Herein we find Mars, the Sun, and Mercury, all in St, Eeo,
ruling w the backand we know that the miscreant, who was
hanged in Australia for the act, shot, the Prince in the back,
�EFFECTS OF MARS.
ALMANAC.]
C5
Planets' places at noon, on the 21s? February, 1822, on which day the
late Lord Mayo was born.
p,
O
4
O
/
0
/
0
/
o
?
/
o
5
/
O
D
/
j 6 #20 22T59 27<rl6 29^14 2X21 26X44 20X22 28ï£19
R
Here we find Mars also in Leo, and in close opposition to tl e
Moon, indicating most serious evil to the noble native in the back,
by a stab, oi’ other wound. If we look to the previous birthday < f
ifhe native, on the 21st February, 1871, what do we behold? Why,
we see Saturn in Vf 7° 23', in close conjunction with Uranus at
birth; and Mars on that day in -"= 7° 10' in exact square with him.
Nothing could have been more plainly indicative of the danger tl e
native would be in at the time. But, perhaps, the most strikii g
position, of all that then occurred, was the place of Uranus at the
end of 50 days, equal to 50 years after birth, the 12th April (the
IMondary direction), he being found in exact conjunction with
Saturn at the previous birthday, viz., in vy 7° 21'!
Yet we find further evidence of the fatal influences that brought
this great man to an untimely end ; for, on the 22nd December,
1870, there was a great visible eclipse of the Sun, in Capricorn,
ruling India.
The places of the Sun, Moon, Saturn, Venus and Mercury were
as follows, at the Eclipse :—•
o î / j ° ÿ / I1
0Vÿ31 0#31 0#52 3#55 16#39
J
©
O
/
o
/
O
*2
/
And we see that the place of Uranus in the radix was yf 6° 20' ;
whence it seems that this eclipse was very fatal to the native, as
appears by the melancholy result.
Of course he was educated according to the fashionable He, that
rules predominant in our universities, viz, that there is no truth in
the doctrine of the stars. Had it been otherwise, he might have
avoided exposing himself to the knife of the assassin ; or, better
still, he might have forbidden those cruel deeds—the blowing
away from guns the miserable sixty-five men engaged in the Kooka
insurrection, which perhaps gave rise to the feeling that led to his
destruction.
Now let us turn our eyes upon the figure of the Prince of Wales.
In that we shall see that in December, 1871, there was also a great
eclipse of the sun, which fell on the 12th December, when His
Royal Highness was at the worst, and thought by many to be
dying. But as on that day the eclipse took place, the sun was
�66
¿EFFECTS OF MARS.
[zADKIEL’s
exactly on the place of Jupiter, at his birth, we saw, and said, and
wrote to many friends, that he would not die, in fact, we believe that
he could not die, as the hyleg (or life-giver) was no ways afflicted.
The following is the figure, under which His Royal Highness came
into the world; and in this figure we find the moon just 30° 16'
from the M. C., which of course, came to the body of the moon just
past 30 years of age. This gives troubles both of body and minrl.
But the moon has but little rule over the life, which depends wholly
on the sun.
Figure of Birth of His Royal Highness The Prince of Wales.
At lOh. 38m. 12s., a. m., 9th November, 1841, London.
R.A.208.“o.
Let us next behold the eclipse of the sun at 4h l‘5m, a. m., 12th
December, 1870, and we see that the new moon fell in f 19° 44',
in close trine to the place of Venus, and in close conjunction with
the place of Jupiter in this figure,
�EFFECTS OF MARS.
ALMANAC.]
67
Well, on that very day His Royal Highness began to mend,
according to all the newspapers, and then steadily improved in
health; the only drawback being an affeetioa of the hip, which
arises from bad blood therein, as shewn by Jupiter so near ths
ascending degree.
I here give the planets' places at the return of the sun to his own
place, on th® 9th November, 1871.
o
7
o
4
/
O
/
o
o
/
o
?
o
J,
o
D
/
| 1SL16 6Vf20 29 s 50 lltf41 161H55 3^=44 2HTL15 7^14
I R
Here it will be seen that the two malefics, Mars and Saturn, are
nearly conjoined in the ascendant; and the moon lies in square
to them both. This led me to anticipate a serious illness for the
prince ; but as Jupiter was in exact sextile to the moon, I did
not foretel any danger to life; neither was there any such;
although the whole nation were led astray, by ignorance of the
rales and doctrines of astral science, to believe and to apprehend
such danger.
The words I used at page 25, November, 1871, were these : “ On
the 9th the moon is afflicted by a square of Mars and Saturn, which
bespeaks serious losses and troubles for all persons born that day, be
they prince, or peasant; and these will endure through all the ensuing
year of life."
My readers well know how true these remarks really were ; but
they must also see that the whole of the Royal Family, and all the
people of these realms, would have been spared great anxiety and
much alarm, if they had but known the true principles of astrology.
These are as ancient as the stars, firm and unfailing as the great
globe itself! They never yet did deceive those men who could read
their indications, and who fail not to remember, that they are the
servants of the Great Eternal whose fiat called them into being, for
the very purpose that they should do his will !
Hence we read in the original Hebrew, the 21st verse of the
10 3rd Psalm, as follows :—
mi
liis will
rrwa
that do Ministers of his
all his Hosts
*
mn
Jehovah
Bless ye
Here we may note that
Si ^al Tseba Heshemim,
u All the hosts of the heavens,” used in 2 Kings, 23, v. v, imports
generally, all the fixed stars. From the worship of these the greater
part of the pagan world were called Zabians or Sabians.
mm jehovah of Hosts, is frequently used as a title of the Great
�EFFECT OF SATUIiN.
[zADKTET.’s
God; shewing, as it does, “that from Him the host of the heavens
derive their existence and amazing powers, and consequently imply
his own eternal and almighty power. Accordingly the Seventy
frequently interpret
Tsdbaoth, by IIay7azca7cu;, Almighty.
THE EFFECT OF SATURN, &c., IN THE TWELVE HOUSES.
Ceylon, November 25th, 1871.
My dear Sir,—The two copies of your Almanac for 1872, and one
copy of the Companion, with its accompanying, letter, have duly
reached my hands. Please accept my best thanks for the same.
You want, it appears, that I should give my opinion about the
Almanac. What opinion can you expect from an insignificant
astrologer in a remote Island, who can scarcely approach you, or
one of your meanest disciples, in point of erudition, with respect to
this sacred science ? However, I can conscientiously say, that not
only the contents of your Almanac for 1872, but almost all your
Almanacs for past years, contain pure truth, and nothing but truth.
It would be in vain in a letter like this to mention in detail the
exact verification of most of your predictions, even in Ceylon,
unless I undertake to write a large pamphlet on the subject.
Your weather predictions turn out to be exactly correct, even in
Ceylon ; and your unerring calculations on the configuration of the
planets are perfect as perfect could be. The most wonderful and
admirable of all your predictions are especially those with reference
to people born in such a month in any year. I have found them
not only to be exactly true with respect to several persons, in the
course of my practice, but they were verified to a very great extent
in my own case. There are a thousand and tens of thousands of
Budhistical astrologers swarming throughout the Island, but, alas !
their calculations are not at all correct; hence their several failures in
prediction. There are a few of them studying under me the Occi
dental way of casting nativities, and they, I see, are gradually
opening their eyes to the correct system. Thank God we have no
penal laws against astrologers in Ceylon. Besides astrology, there
are different other varieties of occult sciences prevalent and
practised in Ceylon, about which I promised to provide you with a
brief description in my last letter.—Hoping to hear soon from you
*
I remain, my dear Sir, yours ever faithfully—J. P.
1st House.—When Saturn is posited in the nativity (i. e., 1st
house), know that your hands and feet will be swollen; you shall
have to quit your native land, and your father will be subject to
diseases of the abdomen.
2nd House.—When Saturn is in the 2nd, the native will be
sickly, and moneyless; he shall be subject to epilepsy, and will
torn out a regular wanderer.
�ALMANAC.j
EFFECT OF MARS.
69
3rd House.—The God Saturn in the 3rd is good, will give plenty
of gold and silver to the native ; he will cause him (the native) to be
a renowned man, especially for his learning.
4th House—If Saturn be in the 4th, he will cause the native’s,
parents to be sickly ; the native will turn out a great sinner, poor-,
dejected, and a deserted man.
5th House.—If Saturn be in the 5th, the native’s parents will die
prematurely ; he shall lose all his inheritance in his own village,
he shall be entangled in litigation and lose his younger brothers,
daughters, sons and cattle.
6th House.—If the blne-bodied God (meaning Saturn) be in the
6 th, he will confer much eruditeness in learning to the native. He
shall have many persons to attend on him, he shall be rich equally
in moveable and immoveable properties.
7th House.—If Saturn be in the 7 th, the native shall be poor,
will get a wife, but children will die, will be of a very sickly con
stitution, especially affections in the head.
8th House.—If Saturn be posited in the house of death, the
native will suffer from incurable cancers, rheumatism in hands and
feet; will lose wife and children, and, losing all his substance, shall
turn out ultimately to be a ruined man.
9th House.—If Saturn be in the 9 th, the native will commit
many sins, the mother will be sick of dropsy, and the native will
be a renowned atheist.
10th House.—If Saturn be posited in the 10th, the native shall
possess three landed properties; shall have cattle, shall marry
three times, the mother will be suffering from head disease.
11th House.—If Saturn be posited in the 11th, the native’s fame
for kindness and power will be spread throughout the country; be
shall have all riches and comfort this world could afford, and shall
be a learned and an erudite scholar.
12th House.—If Saturn be posited in the 12th, the native will be
driven away from among his relations: the father will be suffering
from a gripe, the native will suffer from an incurable sore in his
leg.
__________________________
EFFECT OF MARS POSITED IN EACH OF THE TWELVE
HOUSES OF THE HEAVENS
(NOT IN THE TWELVE SIGNS OF THE ZODIAC).
Translated from an ancient Singhalese Manuscript.
1st House.—If God Mars be posited in the ascendant, he will
cause strife and contention to the native in the village or country
that gave birth to him, and involve him in litigation: he will be
separated from his wife, and will have very few or no children at
all, and endless domestic troubles.
E 3
�70
EFFECT OF MARS.
[zadkiel’s
2nd House.—If God Mars goes to the 2nd house, the native will
be sundered from his father, and will be very unfortunate, losing
all his estates and effects, and will ultimately cause the native to
quit the village which gave birth to him.
3rd House.—If God Mars be posited in the 3rd house, he will
cause the native to be rich in gold and silver, and cause him to
possess three landed properties in three distinct villages, and ulti
mately cause the native to be injured by a bull.
4th House.—If the red-bodied God be in the 4th house, wherever
the native goes he will be implicated in contentions and other
affairs that do not concern him at all; he will be hated by his
brothers, and will ultimately turn out a regular wanderer out of his
own country.
5th House.—If (the son of the earth) Meh& Puth (this is one of
the appellations of Mars), be posited in the 5th, tell surely the
native will never have children, the father of the native must be
continually sick, and say also to a certainty that the native’s wife
has two paramours.
6th House.—If Mars be posited in the sixth from the ascendant,
the native will be powerful and prosperous, and will be favoured by
great men, and will be a famous man, possessing three landed
properties in three distinct places.
7th House.—If the son of the earth be posited in the 7th, the
native will be choleric and bilious, two of his children shall die in
their younger days, and the native himself will be subject to rheu
matism in arms and legs.
8th House.—If Mars were to be in the 8th, or the house of death,
the native will depart his native country, owing to continual
ill-health ; he will for a long time be confined to bed, on account of
the pain he will have to sutler in his legs and arms, on account of
rheumatism : he will have sons and daughters, but they are
perfectly helpless.
9th House.—If God Mars should go to the 9th house, the native
will turn out to be a great debauchee, wandering from place to place
in quest of satisfaction to his animal propensities ; however he will
be somewhat consequential for his having two landed properties of
some value.
10th House.—If Mars be in the 10th, the native will be victorious
in battle, and he will positively overcome his enemies; he will
possess four landed properties inherited from his ancestors, and he
will have plenty of riches.
11th House.—If the son of the earth be in the 11th, the native
will obtain the command of a large host or army; he will be a brave
and a literary man, and will have plenty of sons, daughters and
cattle.
12th House.—If God Mars be posited in the 12th house, the
�^Jj^MÂNAC.]
EFFECTS OF VENDS.
71
-.pther of the native will be indisposed and other people claimlessly
~ 'lherit the landed properties of the native. And these are the unjm rring effects of Mars when posited in each of the twelve houses
fl:
J
rn' f thé heavens.
fTTHE EFFECTS OF VENUS IN THE TWELVE HOUSES.
K Venus in the First House.—If Venus happen to be in the
p©l scendant of one’s nativity, the native shall obtain four landed
j<# »roperties; he will pass his three stages of life in equal happiness,
Oi <nd have plenty of gold and silver.
VjVenus in the Second.—If Venus be posited in the house of subVenus
sub
ViXllW, he W1XX get pXVXXVJ of riches and favours
«
*
—o~.
— —J
stance, 11U will gCU plenty MX XXMXXWM ...... i«,.—v» from kings. The
fa ather of the native will be a learned man; he will have landed proither
pro
perties in three different localities, but he will not Eve himself in
$ my one of them.
’1 Venus in the Third.—If Venus be in this house, the native will
^inherit lands, but he will turn out a favourite of females and will
^possess a beautiful bodily appearance.
Venus in the Fourth.—In the fourth, Venus will cause the native
io have several brothers, but he will lose his father early. Four
-landed properties, and a good musician.
'J Venus in the Fifth.—If Venus be found in the fifth, if the na. live be one of the Royal Family, he will be the ruler of the whole
prorld; he will have several children of very good condition, and
ape will prosper to the end of his life.
jf Venus in the Sixth.—If in the sixth, the native will be poor and
'^possess no riches, and will be suffering from a chronic disorder in
I the belly.
,, Venus in the Seventh—The native will be very learned, will get
m good and an amiable wife, and plenty of children, and he will live
n to the long age of 84 years.
£! Venus in ttie Eighth.—Moderately fortunate, very energetic mind,
„ifond of the parents, and abhor women of low standing.
ij Venus in the Ninth.—The native will be very religious, if not
[rU priest, will get a beautiful partner and be the chief over several.
Venus in the Tenth.—The native will be famous throughout the
| country in which he lives, he will have plenty of cattle, and a large
i tree will stand towards south-east of his house.
Venus in the Eleventh.—The native’s great grandfather will be
, a great man, the native himself will be a very great man, and comp mand the respect of many.
j f Venus in the Twelth.— The native will be suffering from his eyes ;
i unprofitable brothers and children; he will lose his lands by litiga-
�72
[ZADKIEI
MARS MEN AND THINGS.
From, Raphael’s Prophetic Almanac, 1872.
The influence of Mars is doubtless the most active agent in th
system of worlds. It appears to be pointed out by its fiery color
It has been held that Britain (England) is ruled by Aries—-Mar
hence we are nationally Mars-men ; and we have shown ourselv
Hie most active and pioneering amongst the nations of the worl
The Hebrews are held to be under Scorpio—Mars—and where
there a more active and persevering race ? In England the H
brews are more sympathized with than in any other land—astr
logical evidence of the ruling influences and vice versa. Men wl
have the luminaries, or one of them, in aspect to Mars, are t!
pioneers of the world in their various spheres ; they are the worke
and discoverers of hidden things. Let any one take note of tl
position of Mars in the horoscopes of great men, they will readi
perceive the truth of this. Space will only admit of our pointii
to two personages, Napoleon, and our contemporary, Zadkie
The influence of Mars is the most active principle in medicin
Mars governs iron, machinery and the workers therein ; to theses
owe the position we have held among nations. Let none neglect tl
influence and aspects of Mars, especially when of an unfavourab
nature ; for, although the effect may not be so durable, it is moi
potent than that of Saturn.
THE EFFECT OF THE ASCENDING NODE (RAAHU) I
THE TWELVE HOUSES.
1st House.—The enemy of the Sun, in the first house, sha
cause the death of the first wife, shah award four landed propertie
of which three only permanent, and the native shall ultimate!
have to leave his native place for good.
2nd House.—If Panidu (Ascending Node) be in the second, tl
native will be poor and dejected ; the father will die in the youngt
days of the native, but he shall inherit two landed properties.
3rd House.—When Pani (Ascending Node) comes to the 3rd, tl
native will inherit three landed properties, will have fortunate sons
however, he shall be twice married.
4th House.—When Pani comes to the 4th, the native’s brothei
v ill be extremely poor; he shall meet with a fall from a heigh
and he shall never prosper in his native place.
5th House.—If Panidu be in the 5th, the native will not b
blessed with children; he shall be rich, and inherit four lande
properties.
6th House.—If the Dragon goes to the 6th, the native’s wife sha]
be childless, he shall be a renowned man, and enjoy the best-o
earthly prospects.
�ALMANAC.")
EFFECT 01? THE NODES.
73
7th House.—When Palanga (another name for Ascending Node) is
in the 7th, the native will be the head of the family, will get sickly
children, and three landed properties.
8th House.—When Panidu goes to the 8th, he shall cause the
native to be leprous, rheumatism in the arms and feet, and the
native shall have to contend with a turbulent wife.
9th House.—When Panidu goes to the 9th, the native’s grand
father will be transported; all his children will be still-born; how
ever, he shall possess three landed properties.
10th House.—When Pani is in the 10th, the father of the native
will be poisoned, the native shall have to quit three different places
of residence, and the mother of the native shall die.
11th House.—When Pani is in the 11th, the native shall be very
prosperous ; he shall have landed property, and favours from kings,
and he shall be the chief in the family.
12th House.—When Pani comes to the last, the native shall be
entangled in litigation, the father sick, constantly troubled, and
ejected from the house in which he lives, and surely there are two
paramours to his wife.
THE EFFECT OF THE DESCENDING NODE IN THE
TWELVE HOUSES.
1st House.—If Ketu a (name of the Descending Node) be posited
in the 1st house, the native shall have to run away from his native
land; wherever he goes he shall be entangled in litigation ; he shall
get a wife, but the children shall all die.
2nd House.—If Ketu be posited in the 2nd, the native shall have
a mark or a scar on his left arm, and his right leg be bitten by a
dog.
3rd House.—When Bamba is in the 3rd, the native will be much
famed ; he shall have plenty of wealth and cattle, and shall inherit
a lion’s portion from his parents.
4th House.—When Bamba is posited in the 4th, the native shall
be leprous, and the mother will be the enemy of the native, and
she shall be a troublesome woman.
5th House.—When Bamba is in the 5th, the native’s parents are
always sickly, and the native himself shall have no children; he
shall quit his land, and he will be suffering from incessant pain in
the stomach.
6th House.—When Kaatu is in the 6th, the native has to contend
with enemies ; however, he shall have four landed properties and
plenty of riches, but the mother shall be sick.
7th House.—When Bamba is in the 7th, the native shall quit his
place, and the native shall get his inheritance by causing the death
of his parents.
�74
PRANKS OF OLD SATURN.
[zADKIEL’s
8th House.—When Bamba is in the 8th, the native shall prove
very troublesome to the neighbours; will lose all his wealth; parents
sick, and he himself shall be lame.
9th House.—When Bamba is in the 9th, the native shall be a
great sinner, and he shall be a wanderer in quest of fortune; he shall
never prosper in his children, and his mother shall be sick.
10th House.—If Bamba be in the 10th, the native’s legs will be
swollen ; shall quit his country; his mother has a paramour attend
ing on her from a distance.
11th House.—When Bamba is in the 11th, the native’s body shall
appear very lovely and beautiful; he shall get lands, houses and
money. Know this is called the (Sinha) lion’s configuration.
12th House,—When Bamba is in the 12 th, the native shall be
always sick, the native’s wife shall desert him, and elope with some
one else.
THE PRANKS OF OLD SATURN, IN 1872,
THE EARTHQUAKES IN CALIFORNIA.
New York, April 1.
The earthquakes in Southern California have continued two days.
Thirty persons have been killed and one hundred injured at Loan
Pine, and other deaths have occurred in the adjoining hamlets.—
Daily News, 2nd April, 1872.
EARIHQUAKES AT ANTIOCH.
The following special telegram appears in the Times:—
Alexandretta, April 6—Half the towns of Antioch was de
stroyed by an earthquake on the 3rd of April; 1,500 persons were
killed. Great distress prevails in consequence.—Echo, 8 April, 72.
Floods near Oxford.—The lowlandsand meadows around Oxford
are inundated with water—rather an extraordinary circumstance in
April.
THE LATE EARTHQUAKE IN ANTIOCH.
Further interesting details are published of the earthquake which
occurred in Antioch on the 3rd of April. Two-thirds of the houses
in the town have been utterly ruined, including the most ancient
and most durable public buildings, and the remaining houses are so
greatly damaged that there is no possibility of occupying them.
The inhabitants, who are in great misery, are living in tents out
side the town, and are in deep grief on account of the loss of rela
tives and property. The sacrifice of life has been very great; 1,500
Mahometans and 250 Christians and Jews being reported missing.
Close to Antioch is the Isle of Suadia, in which all the houses,
numbering about one thousand, are ruined. In Elonshia and
Eljadida scarcely a building is left standing. Eljalba and Gallack
are also entirely ruined; 3JO persons have perished in the latter
place. When the earthquake took place, Mount Britias was split
�almanac.]
a dirge to war.
75
into two pieces, and a torrent of black water burst forth, tainting
the atmosphere with a strong offensive odour. The shepherds.neat'
the coast state that the sea rose about one hundred feet higher
than usual.—Echo, 25th May, 1872.
EATHQUAKE IN ICELAND.
Copenhagen, May 14.
A schooner which has arrived here from Iceland reports that au
earthquake occurred at Husavik, on the northern coast of the Island,
on the 16th, 17th, and 18th of April. Twenty houses were de
stroyed, but no lives were lost.—Daily News, \5th May, 1872.
“Tempests and earthquake shocks alarm and damage the people.”
January, 1872.
“Earthquakes frequent and terrible, both by sea and land.’
June, 1872.
_______________________
A DIRGE TO WAR.
0, War ! accursed War ! how fell thy deeds !
To tell of half thy crimes, the poor heart bleeds
For now, alas ! thou art more horrible,
More grimly savage—ay 1 more terrible.,
More ruthless, cruel, and more steeped in gore
Thau was thy fellow iu yon days of yore !
Hast thou no sense of wrong ? no human feeling I
Wouldst murder e’en a guileless child when kneeling I
Since thou art habited in German guise,
Lost to all decency, thou hast no eyes
To note the deep disgust the nations feel
For thee, defiant with thy blood-stained steel.
Think not to hand down to posterity
A claim to honour or to verity !
Thy false-tongued champions parade in lies !
Thou smilest grimly when a maiden dies ;
Till Heaven and Earth and Hell, aghast, stand back,
And curse the course of thy infernal track.
A myriad demons from dire depths below—
Whence spirits cursed into demons grow—
Attend thy steps, aud urge thy fated sway,
Till blushes at thy acts the God of Day.
And hark 1 below, the chorus of the dead,
Whom thou hast struck with fatal steel or lead '
They loudly wail thy all-devouring power,
And pray that soon may come the fatal hour
When down to utter depths ®f dark despair
Shall fall thy leaders, in the serpent’s lair;
There, helpless, in dread agony to dwell—
A just reward for making Earth a Hell!—R. J. M.
�76
[zadxiel’s
THE STARS.
The stars, the stars, the beautiful stars.
They come and they go ; and that’s all we know.
They may be the cause of our weal, or our woe.
The stars, the stars, the beautiful stars.
We may think, or may fancy,
Or use necromancy;
The stars still remain—how we cannot explain.
The stars, the stars, the beautiful stars.
They shine, ay they shine ; and seem almost divine.
No mortal may know whence they come, how they go.
’ Pis sweet to regard them, as peaceful they glow;
Unknown as they are—the beautiful stars.
’Tis well to believe them our future abode ;
Where angels will smile on our spirits in peace :
No fear, or alarms, lest our joys should explode ;
For pleasures for ever shall there but increase.
’Mid beautiful stars.
R, J. M.
SAINT PAUL AND «EVIL SPIRITS.”
*
The 12 verse, 6 chap., of St. Paul’s Epistle to the Ephesians has
these words : “We wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against,
principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of
t his world, against evil spirits in the Heavens.
N ow the translators have in the above verse (and in chap, i, 3,
and ii, 6) been at a loss to render the term ’ETroo^avio;, which is
formed from £7r<, ¿n, and
heaven; so they invented the
term “high places,” which, besides forcing in the word “places,”
destroys the obvious meaning of St. Paul. For he, being a ¿Tew,
knew well that the Jews believed the air to be tilled with evil
spirits. And the whole of this 12th verse, if taken in connection
with the verse just preceding, where he says, “Put on the whole
armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of
the Devil]' is a fine burst of eloquence, arousing his readers to the
remembrance that here, on earth, “we wrestle not against flesh and
blood, but against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against
evil spirits (or wicked spirits in the Heavens.
)
*
This is further confirmed by the Apostle’s expression in the 16th
verse, where he says: “Above all, taking the shield of faith, where
with ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked
one!" lov ttov^om, which means, beyond doubt, of the wicked one,
that is, the Devil.
See Margin,
�ALMANAC.]
77
SATURN AND HIS GRIEVOUS MISCHIEF IN
CAPRICORN.
In my Almanac for 1870, for the month of December, I said that,
“ On the 15th of this month, the slowly moving Saturn creeps over
the southern tropic and enters Capricorn. Therein he will soon
begin to afflict Greece, India and Mexico.” Now this prediction
has been already well fulfilled ; chiefly in India and Mexico, but
ateo in Persia, “about Circan and Maracan,” &c. Not only have
♦■bare been severe storms and destruction thereby on the face of the
earth in India, but the horrid murders of 65 prisoners, by blowing
them away from guns, well marks the brutality of men under the
influence of the above evil planet, and the shocking murder of Lord
Mayo, on the 8th of last February, marks the sway of Saturn over
part of the world. In Mexico there has been one continued
scene of anarchy and revolution, slaughter, cruelty and bloodshed.
« Advices from Mexico announce that anarchy reigns throughout
Northern Mexico.”—D. News, April 1st, 1872.
As to Persia, the D. News, 5th May, has the following from
^Teheran: “ The road is strewn with half-eaten corpses. I had
1 ’ several .times to remove dead bodies from the rooms of the
caravanserai where I lodged. Cannibalism not uncommon.” Bulgaria
J has been terribly disturbed by cruel mobs, destroying the Jews, and
has been
hi even Oxford under the unfortunate in all her doings ; both of these
influence of Capricorn.
ui places being and destruction thereby have been astounding ; as
The floods
shewn by the following, from the D. News, 9th May, 1872 ; “ Bombay
May Sth, in the recent flood in Bellore, 1,000 lives are supposed to
have been lost. Twelve thousand persons are houseless, and
3,(MX) destitute. Forty tanks have burst.”
j
RELIGIOUS SYSTEM OF THE ASSYRIANS.
*
.4
“ All wc can now venture to infer is, that the Assyrians worshipped
^one supreme God, as the great national deity, under whose immediate and special protection they lived and their empire existed.
’
...........................................................................................
Different nations appear to have had different names for their
supreme deity; thus, the Babylonians called him Nebo. The name
of this god appears to have been Asshur, as nearly as can be deter
$
ft . mined at present from the inscriptions. It was identified with that
IQ | of the empire itself—always called “the country of Asshur;” it
entered into those of both kings and private persons, and was also
applied to particular cities. With Ashur, but apparently far inferior
*
I: to him in the celestial hierarchy, although called the great gods,
77
were associated twelve other deities. Some of them may possibly
* ((Discoveries in the Ruins of Nineveh,”
�78
RELIGIOUS SYSTEM OF THE ASSYRIANS.
[zADKIEL’S
be identified with the divinities of the Greek Pantheon, although it
is scarcely wise to hazard conjectures, which must ere long be again
abandoned. These twelve gods may also have presided over the
twelve months of the year, and the vast number of still inferior
gods, in one inscription, I believe, stated to be no less than 4,000,
over the days of the year, various phenomena and productions of
nature, and the celestial bodies. It is difficult to understand such
a system of polytheism, unless we suppose that, whilst there was
but one supreme God, represented sometimes under a triune form,
all the so-called inferior gods were originally mere names for events
and outward things, or symbols and myths. Although at one time
generally accepted as such, even by the common people, their true
meaning was only known in a corrupted age to the priests, by whom
they were turned into a mystery and a trade. It may, indeed, be
inferred from many passages in the Scriptures, that a system of
theology, not far differing from the Assyrian, prevailed at times
.amongst the Jews themselves. Ashur is generally, if not always,
typified by the winged figure in the circle. Although the kings of
the latter dynasty are sometimes represented worshipping thej
minor deities, I know of no monument on which the earlier .monarchs
are seen adoring any other figure than that of Ashur.”
Mr. Layard says (p. 615), in speaking of the well-known edifice
at Nimroud, that its builder was believed to be Ninus, &c. Colonel
Rawlinson believed this to be his name. He has since suggested
that of Assur-dan-bal. Dr. Hincks reads Ashur-ak-bal. It is cer
tain the first monogram stands both for the name of the country of
Assyria and for that of its protecting deity. We might conse
quently assume, even were other proofs wanting, that it should be I
read Assur or A shur.” [This point is clear enough, if we only look
to the Hebrew name of Ash-shur, which means, Ash, star or fire,
and Shur, the celestial bull. This applied to Venus, because Venus
ruled in Taurus by house; and hence, the country was named after |
her, the land of the Star of the Bull, which was Venus. The character, |
for Ashur is in the cimeiform---- [-, the same as that which begins thefl
word Shushan, the palace, which was, undoubtedly, Venus.—Zac?.]
A Mirage.—The Scotch papers report a mirage at the mouth of I
the Forth on Sunday. The weather was remarkably warm, and in 1
the afternoon there was a dull, deceptive haze. The sea presented |
almost the appearance of a mirror, and the vessels upon it seemed [
to have a double reflection from the sea and the background |i
beyond. At one time the masts and rigging seemed elongated to <
four or five times their natural length, and then in the course of h
a few minutes they were reduced so as to be scarcely visible. At L
other times the vessels appeared to be sailing double—one ship
sea, and one in air. Extraordinary appearances were assumed bysj
�fl ALMANAC.]
PERSECUTION OF ASTROLOGERS.
79
11 the May Island, which rose and fell and changed to all manner of
4 shapes in the course of a few minutes. At one time it appeared a
perpendicular wall, rising to the height of several hundred feet,
4 and shortly afterwards it appeared to be flat on the surface of the
3’sea. All the other objects which came within the range of the
i refraction underwent similar changes, and the illusion lasted with
varying features for several hours.—Pall Mall Gazette.
PERSECUTION OF ASTROLOGERS.
Those readers, who feel an interest in this question, will be rathei’
ip surprised to learn that the Petition to the House of Commons
which appeared in the Almanac for 1872, was sent to not less than
ft three respectable members of the House, with a civil request that it
I ■ should be presented; and that it was politely returned, with a
I
A refusal to present it. No reason was given in either case; nor was
The only
n any statement offered in explanation of such refusal.
S« conclusion we can come to from these circumstances is, that the
(4 several members were afraid of being laughed at, if they were seen
¿b be so far in favour of an investigation of Astrologv, as the pre
senting a Petition in its behalf would indicate. Well, we must
OH submit silently to this indication of the wisdom of the House.
4I And we must hope that when the members are elected by ballot,
II
In the mean time, we beg those of
wi we may have better success.
Eft our friends, who have sent subscriptions to assist this movement,
Pt to oblige us with their present address, that the subscription may
< be returned. We shall not lose sight of the object in view, howi
vr ever, although we perceive that the difficulty is greater than we had
jf
0 apprehended. In the mean time, the history of the present state
;'ix of things may be thus epitomized: In 1824the Vagrant Act was
It contains a clause against fortune-telling either by chiro
a passed.
Not a word is said about Astrology; nor
Mi mancy or “otherwise.”
was it till full forty years after the passing of the act, that
------------ .— ------ o __ __
^magistrates began to read “otherwise,” as embracing all practice of
id that science. They, many of them, now proceed in this way against
jjd, the Astrologers. They send policemen, who always make use of two
vile women, who visit the Astrologer and ask his advice, for which
¿»d|they nay him in marked money. On their leaving, the two policemen
Juwho haw sent them, follow and arrest the artist. The magistrate
.li rarely allows a word to be said in defence of the accused, but con
demns him to a month’s hard labour. What for? The having
defrauded the complainants. But how so? Where is there any
.1’» evidence, such as this Act of Parliament, being a pen«? Act,
requires; viz.,that it be rendered literally and exactly? The women
go with intent to entrap the artist and induce him to break the law;
■br which it is clear they and the policemen ought to be indicted
tvfor a conspiracy; in which also ought to be included the magistrate,
adj Nhenever it can be proved that he was privy to the act.
�80
DR. LIVINGSTONE AND PTOLEMY.
[ZADKIELT
It is not very likely that, in England, and in the nineteenth ten^ury> such a law can be long upheld, or maintained, notwithstanding
the violence of the atheistical opponents to all belief in spirits, 01
spiritual influence on mankind.
DR LIVINGSTONE AND PTOLEMY.
The Times of 6th August, 1872, contains the letters of Dr. Living
stone, which are very greatly interesting. All honour to the enter
prising Ameiican, who discovered the long-lost and eminent
geographer. The following extract from the letters proves that
this really great man, Dr. Livingstone, fully appreciates the know
ledge of Claudius Ptolemy, on the subject of the sources of the
Nile :—
“ The mountains on the watershed are probably what Ptolemy, for reasons
now unknown, called the Mountains of the Moon. From their bases I found
that the springs of the Nile do unquestionably arise. This is just what Ptolemy
put down, and is true geography. No must accept the fountains, and nobody
but Philstines will reject the mountains, though we cannot conjecture the
reason for the name. Mounts Kenia and Kilimanjaro are said to be snowl
capped, but they are so far from the sources, and send no water to any part< I
the Nile, they could never have been meant by the correct ancient explorer ]
from whom Ptolemy and his predecessors gleaned their true geography, so]
different from the trash that passes current in modern times.”
It will be seen that the “ worthy Doctor cannot conjecture thtj
reason for the name of ‘Mountains of the Moon.’ Well, we tel|
him the reason. Ptolemy knew and taught that all Africa” (see pj
18) was especially under the influence of the sign Cancer ; and aa
this sign is the House of the Moon, in which she has the chief
power, we see at once why these, the most celebrated mountains in
Africa, were called after her name. It so happens that Ptolemy!
whose knowledge in geography and astronomy is admitted to b«
unsurpassed, was the very fountain from whence are drawn all th|
doctrines of Astrology, that our savons choose to disbelieve without
any, the least, attempt at refuting by reference to facts. It is t®
such men as Ptolemy, whose name will never die, that we poi# i
when the buffoons who write in newspapers against the truths o |
Astrology begin to bray.
ASTROLOGY.
ooks for sale on astrology, alciiymy, chiromancy, dreams i,
GHOSTS, Magic, Physic, Spirits and Witchcraft. Sibly’s Astrology, two voli t
25s. Raphael’s Prophetic Almanac, 1832 to 1862, 35s. Barrett’s Magus, £112s. 6c
Bromhall’s Spectres, £2 2s. Dee on Spirits, 2 guineas. Soloman’s Key to Magic ( t>
rare MS.), 275 pages, 5 guineas. Webster’s on Witchcraft, 18s. Gadbury’s Nativitie i
and Tables, 18s. Culpeper’s Herbal, coloured, 15s Ferguson’s Twenty Years’ Pre
ternatural Phenomena, 5s. Agrippa’s Occult Philosophy, four books,
guineas
Coley’s Art of Astrology, 8vo. calf, 18s. Magick, a rare MS., by Dr. Parkins, in folia 1
5 guineas. Ramsey’s Astrology, folio, calf, 21s. “ Crystal Ball,” with instruction,! p
guineas. Works of Glanville, Heydon, Lilly’s Astrology, Ptolemy, Salmon, Paij'
tridge, &c. Apply for Catalogues, gratis, to Thomas Millard, Bookseller, 79, Sain' I.
l’aul’s Churchyard, London.
B
�q W.5USAC?]
Si
| EXPLANATION OF THE EMBLEMS IN HIEROGLYPHIC
41
FOR 1872.
, The angel flying over head, with an olive-branch in hand, implied that
A [Peace would be maintained. The twins are shewn (the rulers of America),
¡rand a fire burning between them. This indicates the destructive fire in
^Chicago ; and may be made to import the fire of discord, through the
inland. The ”
English soldier, with drawn sword, imported the new arma
ment undertaken by the Government, in furtherance of their scheme of
The military man holding back a lion by the ears
IS military defence.
speaks plainly of the insidious establishment of “military centres”
sthroughout the land, to keep down discontent. The Turk fully armed
if shews his condition, with a powerful navy and 800,000 well-armed troops.
¡The furious cock aptly paints the new President in France, and all his
fighting propensities. The bull, excited and irate, shews the fearful state
of the Irish people, anent the Galway election, &c. The coffin, with an
English flag thereon, denotes the lamentable death of the GovernorGeneral of India.
N.B. Not one of these emblems was given by any mortal hand. They
nne and all were portrayed in the magic crystal, for the special benefit of
ie readers of Zadkiel.
I
NOAV READY, SECOND EDITION,
©fje Nth) -princtpia;
OR, THE
TRUE SYSTEM OF ASTRONOMY
IN WHICH
tiThe Earth is proved to be the Stationary Centre
of the Solar System,
AND
The Sun is shown to be only 365,006’5 miles
from the Earth.
By R. J. MORRISON, M.Á.I., F.R.H.S.,
COMMANDER, R.N.
LONDON: J. G. BERGER, NEWCASTLE STREET.
FRIGE THREE SHILLINGS.
�82
[zadkiel’s £
FULFILLED PREDICTIONS.
PREDICTIONS.
“ Hence, especially when he [Mars]
reaches the place of this eclipse in
November, 1871, he will bring serious
grief [in Paris].”—Eclipse of the Sun,
December, 1870.
FULFILMENTS.
There were many cases in which this t
Eclipse showed its power; chiefly in r
November, by the shooting of that fine
patriot, Rossel.
“ The talk will be of war and war
The squabble with America came on h
like doings, and the trumpet will re at this time, and the Government en- ii
sound throughout the land. But not gaged to establish “Military centres” t
much harm will come of it."—March, throughout the land. Alas for liberty! j.
1872.
“ A great struggle goes on in the
“ Mr. A. Herbert then rose to se- ?
House of Commons the last week of cond the motion, which was the com-i i
this month.”—March, 1872.
mencement of a scene, the like of I
which has certainly not been wit- fi
nessed in the House of Commons for 0
many years.
“ Mr. Mundella then rose, and saidli
that he had witnessed with feelings |»
the profoundest sorrow the extraordiY
nary scene which, during the past hour,!
had been enacted in that House.”—|Daily News, March 20,1872.
j
“This will trouble him [the King
The King of Sweden was at this timegft
of Sweden] greatly, both in health confined by illness, and reported to belt!
and in the affairs of his kingdom.”— on his death-bed.
j
May, 1872.
“ Mars passing through Taurus will
The Galway election, and all its b
afflict Ireland with much violence.”— fearful scenes of violence, now took o
May, 1872.
place.
“On the 17th and 18th there will
In London took place the great
be three planets joined together, &c. strike among the building trades, and h
Being just on the ascendant of London innumerable others broke out neat i
it will do mischief there. These planets this time. In New York, the most f
in Gemini will very much excite the fearful death-rate occurred.
people of America.”—June, 1872.
“ DEATn-RATE IN NEW YORK.
“ New York, July 6th.
“The deaths in New Yoik during p
the past week have been 1,569, viz, si
three times the average number.”—t
Daily Nevis, July 8,1872.
An attempt to raise the fares on the i;
“ It will affect Egypt, and do some
mischief to the Suez canal.”—Eclipse Canal was made, but frustrated by thi
Sultan.
of the Sun, June 6th.
“ The female sex will not be for
Lady Twiss was cruelly treated
treated©;
miss uioianc
misiiessl^
tunate; but during the next three Miss Diblanc murdered her mistress dB
months will be oppressed and ill- and very many cases of horrid murder»'
treated generally.” — Sun in Capri of women were recorded.
corn, Dec., 1871.
�fc<[ ALMANAC.]
“ In and near Sardinia shocks of an
earthquake and volcanic phenomena.”
—Sun in Aries, p. 39.
“ Great and noble men shall be
w slain ; hut I hope and think this may
s^i refer to Greece and India, rather than
a# to our own country.”—Ibid, p. 39.
“ The evils of this troublesome oppo
sition [Jupiter in opposition to Saturn]
will fall liberally on the people of the
United States, but we see no token of
any public quarrel of importance; nor
do we judge that there will be any
warlike doings in the land.”—Sun in
Aries, p. 39.
“ Mars is in Aries, &c. His diseases
therein will be very extensively pre
valent. Pains in the head, and affec
tions of the eyes, &c.—Ibid, p. 40.
19 H
j “ There will be fightings, and I fear
i some sudden outbreak of war in Spain.
This will soon be put down."—Eclipse
of the Moon, p. 40.
“ Jupiter is now fairly sailing
I through Leo. Commerce [in France]
i lifts her head and smiles.”—July, 1872.
| “ THE YEAR OF DISCORD I ”
I.
T “ Gardens will be much spoiled by
; 'osfeat in June, and fruit destroyed. The
ajiwfruits of the earth Will be much wasted
brdand injured by heat and creeping
ri|jiffllhings.”—pp. 40 and 41, Eclipse of the
tyMUioon.
a.
10
A most violent eruption of Vesuvius
took place; immense destruction en
sued, and very many lives were lost.
The lamentable death of that great
and noble man, Lord Mayo, took place
—“ in India," be it observed.
We all know the sad squabble for
the “Indirect Claims;” and the noted
debates in our Parliament. But all
passed off peacefully—a result that no
human wisdom but that of the stars
could have foreseen.
The deaths by sun-stroke in NevYork were fearfully numerous—some
200 cases in one day took place; and
these were, of course, all “ pains in
the head ! " The death-rate was awful.
“ The highest point the thermometer
reached yesterday was 93 degrees, and
people cried out that the heat was in
sufferable.’’—TVew York Herald.
A very sharp warfare on the part of
the Carlists broke out in June; but, as
predicted, it was “soon put down."
The great French Loan was sub
scribed for, over fourteen times its
amount!
This was the note in the title-page,
and it has been astoundingly fulfilled !
The whole country has rung with dis
cord ! Every class of men, the trades
and servants all through the country,
have been up and waved the Flag of
Discord ! — demanding higher wages
and less work; and this state of things
is yet rife, in July, 1872. “ The House
of Lords gives much trouble,” p. 39,
has been fulfilled, anent the Ballot
Bill. In America Discord has reigned
—the President being iD trouble, and
a Judge of the Supreme Couit put on
his trial.—See D. News, July 24, 1872.
“ The Fruit Crop.—The fruit crop
of 1872 is probably the smallest that
the most experienced and observant
cultivator can call to remembrance.
Our neighbours across the channel are
in much the same plight—the failure is
complete.”—Times, Aug. 6th, 1872.
�HIEROGLYPHIC FOR 18'73.
Printed by B. D. COUSTNS, Helmet Court, 338, Strand, London,
�
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Zadkiel's Almanac for 1873
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Morrison, Richard James (ed)
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J. G. Berger
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Astrology
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Astrology
Conway Tracts
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Text
T
E
T
s
ON
THE WING.
BRIEF NARRATIVE OF MY TRAVELS AND LABORS AS A MISSIONARY
SENT FORTH AND SUSTAINED BY THE ASSOCIATION
OF BENEFICENTS IN SPIRIT LAND.
.'j;
' ■
BY
JOHN MURRAY SPEAR.
PREFACE BI ALLEN PUTNAM.
BOSTON:
WILLIAM WHITE AND COMPANY,
No. 14 Hanover Street.
1873.
�Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873,
By
WILLIAM WHITE & CO.,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
Stereotyped at the Boston Stereotype Foundry,
No. 19 Spring Lane.
�PREFACE.
BY ALLEN PUTNAM.
Careful students of the spiritualistic literature which
the last twenty-five years have been furnishing, have noticed
from time to time allusions to,' and occasionally rather distinct
accounts of, extensive a^Mations of spirits in the spirit world,
whose special purpose was and is to devise and use ways and
means for systematic and extensive action, upon men, with a view
to reform and improve the religious, civil, social, domestic, and
individual conditiorM the dwellers Upon earth.
In his “ Present Age and Inner Life,^beginning at page 82,
A. J. Davis gives interesting descriptions of his visions of “ The
Spiritual Congress,” its readings of the prominent nations on the
earth, its prophecies concerning many of them, and its purpose to
come nearer to earth/*-to do whatsoever good thing we find to do
with one accord, for so shall at last Eternal Justice be done on
Earth as it is in Heaven.” Methods of associated spirits in
acting upon men are hinted at in “ Twelve Messages,” by John
Quincy Adams, page 417. Allusion is made to an u assemblage
of spirits,” by Dr. Hare, page 14, in “ Spiritualism Scientifically
Demonstrated.” The fact of such associations is most promi
nently presented, however, in the “ Educator,” embracing com
munications through John M. Speaa^where the “ General As
sembly,” which seems but a large committee appointed by the
“Spiritual Congress,” have outlined the projects of the spirit
world for improving the condition of men more fully than in any
other work that the writer has seen. This very large General
3
�4
PREFACE.
Assembly subdivided itself into at least seven sub-associations,
each having its specific field of labor.
One of these committees was called the “Association of
Beneficents,” consisting of Benjamin Rush, Benjamin Franklin,
and ten others of kindred spirit, who chose and set apart John M.
Spear to be their scribe, “ to execute their schemes, and to com
plete their beneficent intentions 5 ’land they sent him forth, “ with
out scrip,” and have kept him journeying up and down over the
earth for twenty years, calling,, under impression, upon numerous
people, giving huge volumes of communications, most of which
have been recorded, have i»iusweleased him from his position
as their scribe and communicator, asked from him a brief out
line report of his doings, and requested him to submit it, for in
spection and revisal, to myself. The reader will find the work a
simple and interesting narrative, by a man of fidelity and faith —
showing how the invisibles can sustain those who confide in them
without any misgivings.
The writer has had tatter intimate knowledge of very many
mediums for spirit communkjaiTo'ns, but among them all, of no
other one who seemed to him so trustful of the wisdom, power, and
beneficence of his spirit gyles and controllers as Mr. Spear. In
him has been manifested the nearest approach I have ever seen to
that Abrahamic faith which could raise the knife to slay one’s
son at the bidding of a supermundane call. He is the only
medium whom I ever heard say to the spirits, “I am entirely
at your service—do with me, and through me, whatever you
judge to be useful to my iellow-m@n.” They seem to have taken
him at his word, and his submission has indicated the sincerity of
his devotion. His trials and buffetings have been most severe.
The thorough fitting of him for his work apparently required him
to sever all old domestic and social ties, even by processes which
caused him to be despised of ^nen*—of most men ; though a few
who knew the source and purpose of his eccentricities could ap
preciate and sympathize with the suffering philanthropist. It
was from the outset, and has been for more than twenty years, my
�PREFACE.
5
privilege to know enough to secure for him my sympathy in his
most-intense mental and affectional agonies, and my admiration
of a man who would submit to be dumb as the lamb in the hands
of its shearers, because of his unfaltering faith in the wisdom and
love which chastened and molded him, that he might become a
better instrument for benefiting his fellow-men.
If the question be put, whether it is right for one thus to sur
render his individuality,/tfaejgse reply seems to be, that it is not;
yet we must either admit exceptions, or be severe in our condem
nations of Abraham, when he made preparation to sacrifice his
son, and commendatory of Jonah for his attempt to get away from
the presence of the HLord by taking ^voyage at sea.
Sending the thoughts off bEoad^ oy<ar the fields of spirit reve
lation and history, and letting {teem generalize the apparent
teachings, a fair s tatement QfiTth!e1m »iS^ be substantially this :
The different associations of beneficent spirits, though having a
common benevolent pufeppse toward men, can best accomplish
their work by causing the® human fesSuments to misunderstand
each other, become somewhat at variance, move in quite distinct
paths, and be kept to a great e-x^^Mgnorant of each other’s do
ings. Some can be^ made most useful in the quiet home and
social circles ; some upon the rostrum and before the public;
others under the ban of society: these classes, and others into
which mediums might b®ii®|Hed^ become, or are made to become,
measurably rivals, and are not exempt from jealousies and re
criminations.
No one of all mediums whom-»®ve known came into the
field of mediumship with a better record for purity of morals, for
active beneficence, for devotion to whatever promised to relieve
human suffering, than Mr. Spear. For many years, as a clergy
man of good standing in the denomination of Universalists, and
especially as the prisoner’s friend, he labored in season and out
of season, in summer’s heats and winter’s colds, with the appro
bation, respect, and support of very many of the ablest and best
among the clergymen, the physicians, the lawyers, and the mer-
�6
PREFACE.
chants of Boston. I have full confidence that his purity and devo
tion to humanity’s good were then genuine, and that they have
never lessened in degree or character to this day. Whatever
seeming disregards of the proprieties or moralities may have
been manifested through his organism were not his own acts,
though most men, without conscious injustice, will hold him re
sponsible for them. He is to a greater extent than most others
an unconsciozis medium; has no knowledge of, and no control
over, any word or act of his lips or body when in the trance.
Such being his susceptibility, provided his controllers judged thatz
they could accomplish their work throughWhim better by making
him “despised and disesteemed of men,” they had power to
manifest such action through him as would bring him into con
tempt when tried by any human standard. Mediums of this
class may have less advantages for pefcSonaljpevelopment and
education than others, but they are obviouslyffirose through whom
spirit teachings come most free from adulterations or perversion,
and are therefore among the most reliable as reporters of spirit
utterances.
Once, before a vast crowd which had assemffed to hear him
lecture in a hall at Cleveland, Ohio, he was made to turn his back
to his audience and speak to the wall, Whether^is was because
the magnetisms flowing from the assembly were unfavorable to
control, or whether the spirits wished, by humiliating him, to ren
der him more pliant in their hands, or whether they had other
motives for it, has never been revealed. But such was their
usage of him.
His eccentricities are not discordant with many manifested
by prophets of former ages. All history, Jewish and Christian
as well as Pagan, teaches that seers and prophets were often
manifestors of unseemM| and sometimes of uncleanly actions,
admissible only by maniacs. Read of Saul as a prophet, and you
will find that when the spirit^as*upon him, he stripped off his
clothes in public, and “ lay down naked all that day and all that
night,” obviously acting in such harmony with the ordinary man
*
^z
?
�PREFACE.
7
ner of those who were subject to spirit control that his acquaint
ances asked in astonishment, “ Is Saul also among the prophets ? ”
Turn to the writings of Ezekiel and you will find that he was
made to lie on his left side three hundred and ninety days — then
on his right forty days, and that he received instructions for
preparing his food which it is indelicate to quote. He was
directed also to smother the deepest' affections. The spirit said
to him, “ Forbear to cry ; make no mourning for the dead; ” and
he adds, “ So I spake unto the people in the morning, and at
even my wife died.” MHfe case, as is in some others, the deep
est and holiest affections of mortal life must give way to the .free
exercise of mediumistic functions.
On the side showing the consequences of resisting the spirit,
look at Jonah. Trying to get away “from the presence of the
Lord,” that is, from the call of his controlling spirit, he paid his
fare for passage by ship to Tarshish; when out at sea he was
thrown overboawMEa^»owecWBv‘ amgreat fish,” vomited out
again upon dry land, and then made to prophesy that in forty
days Nineveh should be overthrown; yet, as the Ninevites re
pented, God
his threat made through his
prophet, and the^eSeMbnah was made to appear as a lying
prophet. This so maddened him that in his wrath he said, “ It
is better for me to die than to live;” and many a modern medium,
truthful and obedient, has been made to feel as much ashamed
and mortified at wh®w®|i b|||®>aiiWand done through them as
Jonah was.
The methods of invisible intelligences, who are obviously intent
on promoting the highest interests of men, are not always in full
accordance with
of expediency and right.
Their ways are not a^^S’ wafe. Frequently, when human
organisms are controlled by spirits for communicating with mor
tals, those organisms are made to manifest actions and utter
ances far from harmonious with the ordinary ways and speech of
the minds and hearts to whom such organisms specially belong.
Sometimes the ordinarily gross and sensual become proclaim-
�8
PREFACE.
ers of high spirituality in refined and polished diction — also, the
highly spiritual and refined are sometimes made to utter coarse
thoughts in offensive language, and to manifest almost beastly
disregard for the decencies of refined life.
Facts like the above furnish a just basis for very charitable
judgments as to the individual, personal character of those
ordinarily benevolent and estimable persons who are sometimes,
as mediums, made to do what sqeiety may justly censure. We
are so accustomed to consider whatever comes out through human lips as the offspring of the head and heart for which those
lips were especially formed, that we find it difficult to ascribe
them to any other intelligence. However it is essential to a just
judgment of persons whose outer organisms are highly mediumistic, that we overcome that difficulty, and look upon mediums, at
times, as only trumpets or pencils used by others than their own
ers, and not expressing the sentiments and thoughts of those who
ordinarily use them, but of some temporary borrower.
A. J. Davis, in his “ Present Age and Inner Life,” page 186,
says, “John M. Spear stands quite prominently before the
world‘as a missionary medium.’ Recommended, as he is, to
public credulity by virtue of his well-known truthfulness, sim
plicity, and uniform conscientious philanthropy of character,
his spiritual experience is particularly and generally interesting
and acceptable. According to my wrceptions of his state, he is
a compound medium —pulsatory, missionary, and
speaking. The most prominent manifestation, it seems to me,
and the most reliable in his case, is the missionary develop
ment.” The work from which the above extract is taken was
published in 1853, while the commission of Mr. Spear is dated
April 1, the same yearl| consequently the characterization was
written before Mr. Spear had scarcely entered upon his
special labors.
Those who have so long employed Mr. Spear, and have moved
the hearts of men to supply his needs, now, when he is permit
ted to put off the harness and seek the repose which his advanced
f
.
�PREFACE.
9
years and previous toil make very desirable, express a hope that
“ the readers of this narrative will give some substantial tokens
of their personal regards, and their appreciation of his numerous
love-labors,” for the purpose of helping him to a small, quiet,
comfortable home, where he may rest from active labor, and pass
his remaining days amid peaceful and happy social and domestic
enjoyments.
J
Allen Putnam.
J-*-*— '/> // g
426 Dudley Stre^ Boston, Oct. 20, 1872.
APPHNDiXU
Prophetical^ apprehending that such enunciations as are
contained in the
agaj^me feast amount of unpub
lished manuscripts emanating from the same source, will in future
ages be regarded as a rich collection of prophetic gleams, I am
disposed to make public a sample of what the spirit world is
purposing to accomplish. In 1859 there was transmitted to me
the following docum®HWM® the public is hardly prepared to
receive, though it must admit that it is pregnant with most
momentous suggestions.
�TO THE APOSTLE OF PRECISION.
It belongs to the unfoldive labors of the General Assembly to
teach of the vast field of adjustments and of true balance or Pre
cision. The papers now in the hands of the Assembly are quite
numerous, and some are most Intricate, and, to some extent, of a
character not usually laid before ®he public eye.
First. Of the origin and<g||||Ba of the human species, which
is a masterly effort by the author to show that man has been,
and, in harmony with certafe laws, can be again, generated with
out the ordinary copulative processes.
Second. And therefore a child may be begotten to order as one
begets a spade, shovel, or hoe ; and the work will be perfect in
correspondence with the Elementist who combines and arranges,
and with the condition-of the mother and the harmony and wis
dom of her surroundings, 1— and
Third. Scales can be so perfectly constructed that all varia
tions, however slight, may be seen by the mos| precise micro
scope ; and in this paper the history and variations of the com
pass are noticed by a careful microscopist, — and
Fourth. The reasons why there is a lack of sexual precision
on some planets, and why^ere is just sexual equipoise on other
planets, — and
Fifth. What elements are important to constitute precision
of life ? What to constitute a mathematician, what a surgeon,
what an engineer ? — and
Sixth. Of the overcoming of gravitation by the application of
electricity and the magnetlms, so that the steam-car can be made
to move with yet greater precision and increased velocity, — and
Seventh. Of the human <®ody as an electrical machine, and
acted uponby persons in the higher lifes, — and
Eighth. Of insulatory laws for certain practical purposes.
These and kindred subjects are considered by the Branch of
Precisionists, for and in b'ehalf of the General Assembly, and re
ports thereof are made at suitable seasons. The Apostle of Pre
cision is a middle man, and hence he has the ability to, as it
were, hit the mark, find both radicals and conservatives gather
about him, and he becomes to both an able counselor and valu
able guide.
For and in behalf of the Branch of Precision of the General
Assembly.
Isaac Newton.
Given September 17, 1859.
10
�NARRATIVE.
Retiring from the field of domestic and foreign
missions, in which I have been diligently and con
stantly employed Kor twenty years, and called now to
resign my commission to another, it is impressed upon
my mind to make a brief report of my labors, hoping
it may be of service to her who is to succeed me in
directing the missionary work; and it is felt also to
be due to the numerous friends with whom I have
been and am associated, and who, by their words and
deeds, have encouraged and assisted me. It is proper
to say that my labors have been performed in Faith.
Very few have so understood my mission that they
could give me either counsel or assistance, and there
fore my trust has been in the invisible world. Most per
sons have doubted if the spirits from whom I claimed
to have received my commission, had even an exist
ence, and not a few considered me deluded, if not
demented, when I assured them it was my belief that
they did exist, did communicate, and had organized
to promote certain specified purposes.
The association by whom I was commissioned had
not at command any tangible means by which my
11
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NARRATIVE.
traveling expenses and daily needs could be met.
Such was the nature of my labor that I must have
constantly near me a competent amanuensis, since
otherwise much that was to be said by me, while in
the superior state, would be lost. Over and above
these things, I was informed that I must leave all
other pursuits, however •pleasan^honorable, or profit
able, that I might devote myself altogether to my
mission; and it was further shown me that I must
disconnect myself from^moM? associations of either a
private or public character, els< I could not do my
best in the field I was entering. Leaving all earthly
considerations, I gave myself unreservedly to my mis
sionary work. Thoughtful ^^fons,^ho value the
world’s approval,'its honors, emoluments, and reputa
tion, can somewhat realize the early struggles that
opened before me. I met them, when they appeared,
as best I could, and pursued my onward way, feeling
that if I was deluded, God was just, would not for
sake me, and in due time^mgprror being discovered,
I could retreat and warn.^hers of danger.
My mediumship may be said to have commenced
April 1, 1852. I was then in a measure prepared to
begin my missionaS. work., and was from that time
sent out on some domestic missions of an individual
character. Names of persons were given me of whose
existence I had noEgthe tightest knowledge. I was
told where they dwelt, when to see them, and was so
acted upon when in their presence, that I immedi
ately relieved them of their infirmities. The prompt
ers of these missions exhibited unusual intelligence
and great benevolence, and I became much interested
in obeying them.
�NARRATIVE.
13
In July, 1852, John Murray, the father of Univer
salism in America (whose name I bear, and by whom
I was dedicated when an infant), through my hand
wrote a programme of subjects, upon which he de
sired, through my instrumentality, to speak. A pho
nographic reporter, Miss Matilda Goddard, being en
gaged, twelve messages were delivered in Boston, my
native city, at regular intervals. The themes were
of a moral, religious, and spiritual character, and were
subsequently published by Bela Marsh. Two messa
ges were now given me: the first, dated September 11,
1852, was written through the hand of my beloved
daughter, Mrs. Sophronia B. Butler; the second, dated
September 12, 1852, was written through my own
hand. Here they are : —
First. “You will soon be directed in the work you
are to be engaged in promoting. The teachings will
come in a way and at a time least to be expected.
To-morrow you will receive almost important commu
nication from a number of spirit friends. Do all they
direct in all cases. |^ulaw to receive new teachings
— different, from those' you have received. Have
Faith. s A new work is open before you, and great
shall be your reward, as you shall see. Some new
spirit friends will soon teach you. You will know
your work to do. Be quiet: all is well that is done
with good impressions, and yours are. When the
new light shines in upon the minds of the inhabitants
of your earth, then shall the world be changed. It
shall grow wiser and better, so that after a few years
things shall be altogether changed, and you will
hardly believe that things were as they now are.
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|
NARRATIVE.
The day to spread joy and happiness is near at hand,
when all shall love one another, and all shall feel that
they are brothers. The darkest complexioned man
shall not be crushed on account of his color, but you
shall live, eat, drink together, and not know any dif
ference,— shall feel that you are all of one great
family, and are to do good to all around you. Great
and important will be the instruction given from the
spirit world, and men will soon be directed by their
friends there. Their faith shall bejstrengthened by
the communications they will receive. They shall be
restored to health by spiritual physicians, and new
mediums shall be made throughout the world, and
their truth shall teach men to lead good and pure
lives. Crime shall decrease, and beautiful thoughts
shall fill men’s minds. When they attempt to do
wrong, they shall be directed differently, and all shall
pass pleasantly along.”
Second. “ A most Important Communication. Your
spirit friends, whose names when on ^our earth will
be hereafter mentioned, mogt earnestly desire now to
communicate important information, which will be
most useful to you, and through you to the inhabit
ants of the earth on which you nowSbr the present
dwell. It is perceived that your past manner of liv
ing, thinking, and laboring has admirably prepared
you to engage in a new and impfeant labor.
“ You will for a coming season be under the more
especial supervision and immediate direction of the
spirit friends whose* earthly names will be mentioned.
They have been commissioned, prepared, instructed,
and qualified to direct, prepare, and- lead you on in
your important work. They will be, some of them,
�NARRATIVE.
15
always near you, and when it is seen that you re
quire assistance of one or more, or all, it shall be
freely given unto you. You will now be most quiet,
most patient, and at the same time most watchful and
most active ; and your wants shall be supplied as they
come unto you. Let this be most carefully preserved,
and placed in a conspicuous position, that it may be
seen and read.
Benj. Rush,
John Howard,
Franklin,
Oliver Dennett,
John Murray,
Zacheus Hamlin,
Joseph Hallett,
Thos. Jefferson,
Roger Sherman,
John Spear.
“September
I looked at these remSkable messages with much
care, and finaly show®d'tnern IRome valued friends.
Most of them doubted. For a time I hesitated. But
while in this unsettled and unhappy state of mind,
doubtful whether Spiritualism was or was not a delu
sion, it was my good fortune to hear an able address
on spirit manifestations, given by Allen Putnam, Esq.,
in Roxbury, Mass.
_
I looked critically at the speaker as he entered the
desk, observed the class of persons assembled to hear
him, among whom were many of the most respectable
citizens of that ciS noticed the fairness, candor, and
clearness of his statements: and the evidences pre
sented were, to my mind, irresistible ; and from that
time I date my perfect, unwavering conviction of the
truth of an open communication between persons in
the spiritual and material worlds, and then concluded
I would not retreat. Other messages came, and
among them the following: —
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NARRATIVE.
MESSAGE FROM THE ASSOCIATION OF BENEFICENTS.
“ The undersigned, by the instrument which is
being herein communicated, say to the inhabitants of
the earth on which this Scribe dwells, that an associa
tion, called ‘ The Association of Beneficents,’
has been selected, qualified, and commissioned, to
teach of the Benefices ; and they now say and declare
that they have in contemplation a system of revealments which will much surprise the dwellers of the
lower earth. They moreover make declaration that,
through the various instrumentalities which now are,
and which, as they are most needed, will be under
their control, teaching, and direction, this association
will greatly, wisely, and seasonably instruct and bless
the diseased, the suffering, and the wretched of the
aforesaid earth. And they declare that this scribe,
known by the name of John Murray Spear, is now
chosen and set apart to execute their schemes, and to
complete their beneficent intentions! \
Benjamin Rush,
Benjamin Franklin,
John Howard,
Roger Sherman,
Oliver Dennett,
Thos. Clarkson,
Joseph Hallett,
John Murray,
John Pounds,
Thos. Jefferson,
John Spear,
I. T. Hopper.
“ Communicated and dated April 1,1853 (being the
commencement of thf united labors of the Association
of Beneficents), and delivered into the hand of John
Murray Spear.”
It was now supposed I was insane.
Physicians and
�NARRATIVE.
17
others were sent to converse with and examine me.
I showed them the above commission. They looked
upon me with tender, compassionate eye, as they de
cided that I had become a lunatic. I knew their ver
dict, and greatly feared I might be confined in an
asylum for the insane; but I was mercifully preserved
from such unhappy fate. I was then made to avoid
society, to write much, to make strange drawings, to
do many things that I did not comprehend, and some
that seemed to me quite foolish and ridiculous.
My missionary fieWKoon began to enlarge. I was
commissioned to visit the city of Cleveland, Ohio, at
a distance of seven hundred miles. I expected there
to meet John M. Sterling, a gentleman whom I had
seen at Worcester, Mass. He was absent from home,
but I made the acquaintance of Dr. Abel Underhill,
Dr. John Mayhew, Horace Fenton, and others. A
meeting was called in Brainard’s Hall the Sunday
after my arrival. A large assemblage convened to
see and hear me. WR3|ithoW tW slightest preparation
on my part, without the least hint of what I was to
say or do, I was mQ<J^p^jfc>rth the following dec
larations : —
“We come from the higher life to declare things
which are soon to
place, — which are schemed
in wisdom and will be completed in beneficence. We
come to harmonize things apparently discordant, and
out of discords to bring concords. We come to in
struct the uninstructed of things supereminently prac
tical. We come to inspire the inactive to high states
of activity. We come to promulge a more critical
knowledge of Nature’s- laws. We come to raise the
low to conditions eminently high. We come to intro2
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NARRATIVE.
duce, by wise schemes, a new and better era. We
come to supersede things apparently unimportant by
things which are practical and highly useful. We
come to institute and organize a new Church, to es
tablish new systems of Education, to teach of new
Architectures, to organize new Governments, to teach
of new Garments, to instruct of proper Foods, to teach
of the more symmetricdLainfolding of mortal bodies,
and thereby the more perfect unfolding of spiritual
bodies. We come to select wise instrumentalities to
execute beneficent schemes.
“We come to introduce a new era, unlike the two
prominent eras of the past, namelw the Jewish and
the Christian. The Jewish was an era of Force ; the
Christian was an era of Feeling. The third era, which
has now commencA
the era of Wisdom. It will
embrace, however, both Force and Feeling, adding a
still nobler attribute, making of the thr^fe one grand,
beautiful Trinity,—’•Force, Feeling, Wisdom. Thus
no truly useful thing of the past will be lost or de
molished. Force and feeling will be deleted by Wis
dom, leading all to ask, in simplicity of (Spirit, ‘What
wilt thou have me to do ? ’ This question, they who
come from the higher life are now prepared to an
swer, so that each one can find his proper place.
“ The preceding era® have hadpheir primary books,
which, to a very considemble extent, have molded the
public mind of their respective times* Containing, as
they have, portions of permanent. truths, they have
been preserved from 5jhe moMering hand of time,
answering the purposes for which, in highest wisdom,
they were designed. The era which has now begun
has its book, superior to those of the former eras.
�NARR ATI V E.
19
This has been termed The Book of Nature ; but,
for distinction’s sake, it may henceforth be called The
Book of Unfoldings. It can never be superseded,
because it is perpetually unfolding. It has no last
chapter; but chapter after chapter will be revealed,
precisely in proportion to the mental expansion of its
readers.
“ The unfoldings of former eras ended when they
were founded. On their respective foundations super
structures were reared 9Ht these could not be broader
than their bases. Th® new era, unlike the former, is
to be founded on imperishabfl, indestructible, and
ever-multiplying Facts. Hence its base can never be
wholly laid; for there can never arrive a period when
facts shall cease to multiply. As a consequence, no
book can be written by
hand comprehending
the basis-facts of the new era; for they will embrace
those of the past, the present, and the interminable
future.
“ The eras of the past have only, to a limited ex
tent, satisfied man’s expanding mental wants. Theyhave been unable fully to fill vacuums, because they
were angular in their unfoldings, and, of necessity,
created mental angularities. The new era, deriving
instruction from the past, the present, and the future,
will develop Truth in its completeness or circularity.
Consequently, its primitive lesson has been the forma
tion of circles ; and there have been gatherings around
the tables of your dwellings. It was not primarily
for the mere purpose of listening to unusual sounds
that these circles were organized; but it was symbolic
of truths which are to be unfolded.
“ The former eras have been commenced, and to a
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NARRATIVE.
very considerable extent perpetuated, by the mascu
line sex. And in the second era one declared, ‘I
suffer not a woman to teach.’ From the utterance of
that unseemly declaration woman has been denied the
right of public teaching. Thus has one sex monop
olized the power which has been wielded to the high
est detriment of the other A The new era, unlike the
two preceding, for the purpose of regaining a lost
equilibrium, will, for a suitable season, place the fem
inine element in preponderance. Another Trinity is
to be introduced, namely, Economy, Convenience,
Beauty ; and woman, being specially adapted there
for, is to aid in its development.
“ The students of preceding eras have especially been
taught to reverence the books, writtffli by mortal hands,
for their respective periods. In the new era, truths
alone are to be reverenced, for truths are immortal.
“In the eras of the past, reverence of individual
persons has been taught. In the new era, man, as A
grand whole, with all other portions of Nature, is
to be reverenced.
“ The teachers of past eras have established forms
and observances, suited to their respective degrees of
unfoldment. The new era dwells not in outer forms,
ceremonies, or observances. These are but the scaf
folds of the superstructure; they are transitory, and,
of necessity, pass away. Each individual person will
be left free to express her or his thought in her on his
way; so that woman and man, wife and husband,
daughter and son, will be at liberty to adopt forms,
ceremonies, and observances, as they may from season
to season find to be individually agreeable.”
At Cleveland, while in the trance condition, my
�NARRATIVE.
21
eyes being closed, persons whom I never had seen
entered the room where I was seated. I approached
one of these, a lady, and addressing her, gave her the
name of “ Leaderess.” Returned to my normal con
dition, I inquired what I had been doing, and was in
formed, among other things, that I had made an ad
dress to Mrs. Caroline S. Lewis, and had designated
her as the Leaderess. This was all inexplicable to
me, as it certainly* w^ta to herself and others. I
saw nothing then to beT led which called for any
Leaderess.
I was now commissioned to go from Cleveland to
some springs that had been discovered by a spirit
medium, and were owned by Oliver G. Chase, John
Chase his brotherland W. W. Brittingham, on a farm
then occupied by John Chase, in Farmington, Pa.
Accompanied by Horace Fenton, Dr. Abel Underhill,
Dr. John Mayhew, "Samuil Treat, Dr. and Mrs. Burritt, William E. Dunn, Emily Hickox, Caroline Sykes,
Sarah Fuller, and Hannah F. M. Brown, I left Clever
land on the 10th of May. I have not much recollec
tion now of the things I was impressed to say and do
while at the springs; but remember I was directed to
make a second appointment to be there again in a few
weeks. All was yet dark and mysterious to me; but
I decided to move on a little further, supposing and
hoping these strange missions would soon terminate.
At a time previously named I made a second journey
to Cleveland, accompanied by my beloved daughter,
now in the spirit world, Mrs. S. B. Butler, who acted
as my amanuensis. From there I made a second visit,
by spirit direction, to the spiritual springs in Farming
ton, and arrived there on June 10th. At that time,
�22
NARRATIVE.
the domain where I now write (Kiantone) was pur
chased by Horace Fenton, Dr. Underhill, and
others.
I was then directed to go to Rochester, N. Y., and
Niagara Falls, and Dr. Abel Underhill was requested
to accompany me, which he did. While at the Falls,
some statements were made in respect to the future
of the American nation, and of a union of the Canadas
with the United States! At Rochester, June 30,1853,
seated with Charles Hammond, a writing and speaking
medium, interchangeably, i. e., I naming the first,
third, &c., and he' the second, [fourth, &c., we were
made to announce the existence of sWen associations
in the spirit world, Ithe names of whichfas reported by
Dr. Abel Underhill, are as follows®—
1. Association of Beneficents.^
2. Association of Electricizers.
3. Association of Elementizers. j
4. Association of Educationizers. '
5. Association of Healthfulizers. .
6. Association of Agriculturalizers.
7. Association of Governinentizers.
Some time subsequentMto these announcements, it
was furthermore intimated that all these bodies sus
tained a subordinate relation to a yet more numerous
and comprehensive organization, called the “ General
Assembly ” of the spirit world, from which they were
special delegations or committees. The following pa
per, communicatee! as will be seen, about a year after
the commencement of I these unfoldings, contains a
lucid and succinct statement of the mutual relations
of these several alleged bodies, and of some of their
methods of operations : —
�NARRATIVE.
23
ADDRESS TO THE INHABITANTS OF THIS EARTH.
“ Something more than a year since, a number of
persons in the spirit world resolved to associate to
gether for the promotion of several scientific, useful,
and philanthropic purposes. Organization- was the
result. A body called the General Assembly was
formed. Entering immediately on its duties, the
General Assembly resolved to organize several subor
dinate bodies. Seven, a numerical perfection, was the
number determined on. Cheerfully these subordinate
bodies immediately commenced their labors. They
selected a prominent person to journey from place to
place, with a view of seeking, selecting, and appoint
ing its general agent. At the earliest possible mo
ment these subordinate bodies commenced their dis
tinct, though co-operative labors.
/
“ It was deemed wise, by the subordinate bodies, for
that asso ciatiora which would, of necessity, bring out
most prominently important fundamental principles,
to first enter upon the work,whereby forming a sub
stantial basis upon’which kindred associations could
safely build. Among these bodies was one significant
ly denominated the Electric-izers. At the head of
that association the name of Benjamin Franklin was
placed. His great intellectual ability, his skill as a
diplomatist, and his philanthropy, qualified him for a
position so important. That association in due time
commenced its laborsjwcarrying them forward to a con
dition when others might wisely commence their
efforts.
“Each of these subordinate bodies has now un
folded its general plan, and presented its fundamental
�24
NARRATIVE.
principles. Difficulties have been encountered in this
undertaking, but they have not been more numerous
than are usually connected with labors of this charac
ter. Looking carefully over the whole ground which
has thus far been traveled, the General Assembly is
satisfied with the results.
“ The General Assembly, as such, takes this oppor
tunity to somewhat^ fully declare its purposes and
plans. While the subordinate bodies have each their
distinct labors, acting uSfe a class or classes of per
sons, the General Assembly proposes to affect in sev•erSj. ways the general mind,—hence its name. And
its labors and plans will generally tend to the promo
tion of the more individual labors of the subordinate
bodies.
“ One of the first, objects which the General Assem
bly proposes to accomplish is to- select from a large
class of persons a body of representatives, each being
distinct, and yet all, when unitedrforming a whole.
They will be selected in different locations, and, to
some extent, in different nations f but the majority
will be from this, the American nation.
“ When the General Assembly has completed this
branch of its labors, it will then proceed deliberately
in unfolding its general plans, which, briefly, are the
following: —
“ ‘ First, to construct a new general Government^
selecting from the governmental institutions of the
past and the present the essential and the useful, hap
pily combining and arranging the s'ame, introducing
new principles, and constructing for the inhabitants
of this earth a new general government, presenting •
it as a model to this and other nations.
�NARRATIVE.
25
“ ‘ Secondly. It proposes to prepare a general Code
of Laws, embracing essential moral principles ; and it
proposes to present this code to the consideration of
distinguished legislators, eminent jurists, and other
judicial persons.
“ ‘ Thirdly. It proposes to present certain religious
or spiritual teachings, embracing the essentials gath
ered from the various Bibles and other volumes of the
past, connecting them with the highest spiritual teach
ings of the presentthus bringing together compre
hensively all that spiritual instruction which man
needs, and constructing a basis upon which a new,
living, and rational Clvwrch can be built.’
“ While the General Assembly will be engaged in
promoting its general labors, the subordinate associa
tions will continue, quietly and perseveringly, their
respective efforts, tiding, as far as may be practicable,
the general undertakings of the Assembly. That its
plans may be promoted, certain selected persons will,
at a proper time, visit fet only certain important loca
tions in this nation, but will also visit other nations.
Various persons, from time to time, will be employed
in generally advai^jgg ' the objects contemplated by
the General Assembly. Obstacles which may lie in
its way will be, by various means, removed. Persons
friendly or unfriendly, whether in the garb of friend
ship or otherwise, will be exhibited in their true char
acters.
“For and in behalf of the General Assembly,
“ Daniel Webster.”
The names of the original twelve Teachers selected
by the General Assembly were as follows : —
�26
NARRATIVE.
Allen Putnam, Roxbury, Mass., Apostle of Precision.
Distribution.
Jonathan Buffum, Lynn,
“
“
Devotion.
Daniel Goddard, Chelsea, “
“
Government.
Eliza J. Kenney, Salem,
“
“
Resignation.
Emily Rogers, Utica, N. Y.
“
Harmony.
Thad. S. Sheldon, Randolph, N.Y., “
Freedom.
Mary Gardner, Farmington, Pa.
“
Education.
Angelina Munn, Springfield, Mass., “
Direction.
Eliza W. Farnham, New York City, “
Treasures.
Jno. M. Sterling, Cleveland, 0.,
“
Commerce.
Thos. Richmond, Chicago, Ill.,
“
Accumula
George Haskell, Rockford,*^
“
tion.
A basis for a new government and a new church
was indicated, and twelve representative persons
selected, some of whom have been translated to the
spirit world. Persons in England have been chosen
to aid this work, among whom is Mary Howitt, who
was called the “ Celestial Poetess; ” Dr. J. J. Garth
Wilkinson, called the “ Spiritual Analyzer; ” Andrew
Leighton, called the “ British Interchanger.” Numerous others in Great Britain and other lands, among
whom stand prominent William and Mary Tebb, of
London, were given spiritual names, but I am not
permitted to recall more at this time of writing.
To each and all of the twelve apostles addresses
4ave been made, stating in explicit language what
the Assembly desired, through their aid, to accom
plish. Nearly one hundred papers have been given
to the Apostle of Commerce, upon the subject of com
merce in its inner and outer, its spiritual and material
sense. More addresses have been made to the Apos-
�NARRATIVE.
27
tie of Treasures, on spiritual and material wealth, of
their value and good uses, and not a small number of
papers have been transmitted to the Apostle of Har
mony. To the extent they have promulged the
ideas and thoughts given them, they have been the
teachers representing the “ General Assembly.”
While on my w|y back to my native city, from
Rochester and thejFalls^Kwas informed that it was
proposed to bring out, through me, a New Motive
Power, and that I must be prepped for revelations on
that subject. They lame, and continued to come, for
nine months : following out with precision the varied
instructions as tnOggwere rgiven, an external mech
anism was elaborated, vibratory motion was secured,
which was perpetuiMBWong as the mechanism lasted;
but on being removed by direction to Randolph,
N. Y., a mob broke into the building in which it was
stored, and the machine was demolished ; though the
principles brought out by its construction are pre
served, and in due time that work, as I was informed,
is to be resumed. I was much assisted in this effort
by Mrs. Sarah J. Newhm, Al E. Newton, Thaddeus
S. Sheldon, S. C. HOl Jonathan Buffum and wife,
Samuel G. Love, and many others, whose names do
not now come to me. I was now commissioned to visit
Cincinnati, St. Louis, and other important places, and
while at the last-name® place a course of twelve lec
tures was given of JElements; Warren Chase, Mrs.
French,. Mrs. Hyer, Horace Fenton, and others, assist
ing me in various ways to their transmission. I was
now instructed to again visit the domain, with some
others, to engage in excavatory labors. It had been
declared through several mediums that an ancient
�28
NARRATIVE.
and highly cultivated people had dwelt there. Driven
from this location, they here deposited certain valua
bles, which were to be exhumed and used for certain
beneficent purposes. Here I worked, in the heat of
summer and the frosts of winter, for seven months,
entering into the bowels of the earth more than one
hundred and thirty fee^> ^during many privations,
suffering much through doubt and anxiety of mind.
When that work terminated I was informed that at a
future day it was to be recommenced. While engaged
in this labor a valuable minerA spring was opened,
and very many papers were transmitted and carefully
reported, some of which compose “ The Educator,”
a volume of more than s’even hundred pages, carefully
prepared for the press by A, E. Newton.
January 1,1861, an organi^fen was founded under
spirit direction, called the “Sacred Order of Union
ists,” which was to termifliSatl harness contracts at
the end of seven years. Its general purposes are ex
pressed substantially thus: T® unite man to man,
nation to nation,- planet to planet.; To abolish war in
all its forms, and to promote universal peace. To or
ganize various beneficent aodw-operative institutions,
which, without injuring the rich^^would greatly aid
and help to educate the poor and improvident classes.
To establish such religfelSl^institutions and ceremo
nies as are in harmony with man’s nature, and tend to
his highest culture. To establish a system of meas
ures which will encourage iwustry, render labor hon
orable, remunerative, and attractive. To institute
means whereby education may be made thorough,
equal, and universal. To secure to all a right to the
cultivation of the soil for useful purposes. To ad
�NARRATIVE.
29
vance and encourage all the important sciences and
the useful arts. To teach of the intimate and sacred
relations which exist between the material-and spirit
ual worlds. To aid and encourage inventors in the use of their powers for human advancement. To open
new fields of thought, institute new and unitary meth
ods of labor and of daily life, and to encourage perpet
ual progress, and so instruct mankind that they may
bring heaven down to earth and lift earth up to
heaven.
The following werejthe precepts of this order : —
I. Thou shalt be strictly just in all thy dealings
and in all thy intercours^ with thy fellow-men.
II. If thou seest thy neighbor at fault in word or
deed, thou shalt teach him the way of everlasting fife,
and lead him therein.
III. Thou shalt not covet the goods of another, in
thought, word, or deed.
IV. Thou shalt make ft thy daily prayer to so walk
before thy fellow-men that th^example may be wor
thy of universal imitation.
V. To the extent of thy individual and social pow
er thou shalt contribute to the virtue, sobriety, indus
try, neatness, order, and happiness of thy kind.
VI. It shall be thy pleasure to aid the sick, the
distressed, the poor, and the oppressed; to weep with
those that weep, and rejoice with those that rejoice.
VII. Thou shalt not|ommit adultery of any name
or nature in thy thought, by thy heart, thy eye, or
overt act.
VIII. Thou shalt welcome all new thoughts, retain
the good and eschew the evil.
IX. Thou shalt avoid all harsh, unseemly, or
�30
NARRATIVE.
angry debate, and thy affirmation shall be yea, and
thy denial nay.
X. Thou shalt strive to so perfect thy dress that
thy whole body and spirit shall be enlarged and
improved thereby.
XI. Thou shalt eat of such food as shall be con
ducive to the highest health and harmony, as shall
best fit thee for thy daily labors..
XII. Thou shalt ever speak the truth, whatever
may be the cost to thee or to others, reserving to
thyself the right to decide when and where thou
wilt speak, and wheg be silggt.
With my wife I 'fcoae traveled for more than
fifteen years, she essentially aiding me in the labors
to which I have devoted the best part of my life.
I have labored without price, but not without re
ward, finding it in the love of the work itself. I
have been specially sent four times to that remarka
ble people, the Mormons, dwelling" in Utah. Some
seed there sown has grown. Some excellent friends
of moral, social, and religious progress have there
been led to the building of a Liberal Institute, in
which free thought and free speech are encouraged,
and the way has been opened by which That abomina
tion, Polygamy, may eventually'disappear. I have
several times visited, by direction, the Shakers, to
observe their order, neatness, economy, industry,
modes of worship, manners and customs, and I have
ever been welcomed by them in the most cordial
manner, and refreshed in the outer and inner man
while with them.
A suit of their garments, presented me by Elder
�NARRATIVE.
31
James Prescott, I have preserved with care, wearing
them only when they would serve to make fitting con
ditions for the reception of certain writings. I feel
sure they are the purest and most spiritual body
of persons I have ever met.
In business matters the associated spirit world has
exhibited much skill and commercial insight. It
has predicted the state of the flour, stock, and real
estate markets with accuracy. Tracts of land and
buildings have been purchased, and held or sold ad
vantageously under its guidance. Much more might
have been done in this direction had capitalists had
more faith in the unseen. The future of many indi
viduals, living in the New and the Old World, has
been predicted wi^<pi^^iir®n, tana d national convul
sions and wars
been foretold years before
they have occurred.
December 30, 1853, my hand was moved to write
thus: —
“ It is now permitted to be prophetically declared
that the following events are at hand, and that they
will transpire without the aid of miracle, and without
suspension of Nature’s laws.
“ First. Several nations holding important and
high influential positions on your earth, will soon be
engaged in most acrimonifcs and sanguinary strife.
“ Second. The American nation will not be except
ed from the great commotions which are at hand.
“ Third. The more especially oppressed, enslaved,
and hunted, will, of absolute necessity, be emanci
pated.
�32
NARRATIVE.
“ Fourth. There will be dissolutions, and unions,
and new governments, as necessary results of the
mighty national struggles ; and, among these unions
and disunions, there will be a union of the United
States with the Canadas and neighboring provinces.
These unions will cause a dismemberment of some
of the now Confederated States ; and, as a conse
quence of that dismembermentj there will arise a
new and glorious REPUBLIC, which shall have for
its basis “JUSTICE, EQUALITY, AND UNI
VERSAL FREEDOM”
“ Fifth. Prominent persons will be placed at the
helm of the new ship of state, whose motto shall be,
‘ ETERNAL PRINCIPLES, NOT PARTIES.’
“ Sixth. A new Religion shall take the place of
dead forms, which shall lead to high, energetic action,
and to wise endeavors to elevate the oppressed, and
instruct the uninformed.
“ Seventh. The new Republic will invite to its
broad shores the greatly enlightened of all the nations
of your earth ; and by new co®Mnations of character,
of thought, and actio®, there shall be a new and
higher order of being than has at any former period
inhabited your earth.
“These prophecies are presented at this present
moment, that greatly spiritualized persons may be
wisely informed, and somewhat [prepared for the
important things which are at hand, and also that
they may be unmoved and undisturbed when they
transpire.
“For the Association of Governmentizers,
“ Robert Rantoul.”
�NARRATIVE.
33
■ The fall of Napoleon III. was seen and stated
several years before that remarkable national event
occurred.
Hundreds of programmes have been written of
things proposed to be done, of messages to be de
livered, of series of discourses on an immense num
ber and variety of themes; all of which has been
done with wonderful exactness.
I will narrate a singular mission to Hamilton
College, New York. I was informed that it was in
contemplation to give through me a series of twelve
papers on Geology, a subject on which I have not
read, and in which, to this day, I take but little
interest, my mind being of a moral, social, religious,
and philanthropic cast, rather than scientific.
I was directed to go to Clinton, where the above
named college is. Arriving there, I made the ac
quaintance of Professor Avery, a liberal-minded and
large-hearted gentleman. Informing him of the
strange mission on which I was sent, he inquired
if I had a programme of the proposed course. I
placed the outline in his hand which had previously
been given me. Critically inspecting it, he asked
how long I was in writing it; J answered, about
twenty minutes. Evincing surprise at my reply, he
remarked that the subjects proposed to be treated of
were very important.
He then desired to be informed what aid I needed to
enable me to do the proposed work. I replied, I had
been instructed to obtain, if possible, a room in the
college building, and to secure the use of its cabinet.
The Professor kindly assured me I should have the
assistance I had named, and further said he would
3
�34
NARRATIVE.
hear the discourses, adding, that he has lectured on
geology ten years, and was orthodox on that subject.
Before I was prepared, however, to commence the
discourses, the Professor was thrown from his carriage,
and his ankle being sprained, he was unable to walk.
He then kindly invited me to occupy his private
dwelling, and offered a suitable room for the delivery
of lectures. Accepting his generous offer, two gentle
men (Dr. Abel Underhill and Thaddeus S. Sheldon)
reported the lectures as they were delivered. The
minerals needed to illustrate the several subjects dis
coursed of were brought from the college, and in
spected while my eyes were closed. The Professor
heard all that was said, and carefully observed all that
was done. When I had finished my work, and had
returned to my normal state, I inquired of him what
I had been doing. His reply much surprised me.
Said he, “ You have taken up geology just where the
books stop. You have not contradicted what they
teach, but have presented, finer thoughts, some of
which have been hinted at by a few English geolo
gists, but are not considered orthodox.” And he
added, with a pleasant smile, ‘fcE shall teach some
things you have said, but shall not tell where I ob
tained them.” Thus ended my mission to Hamilton
College to give lectures on geology.
I can not refrain from adding that Mrs. Avery
kindly seconded her husband’s noble efforts, and I
will also add that the lectures embraced, among other
points, Concretions, Petrifactions, Man Geologically
Considered, Woman as a Combinist, Conchology,
Pearls, Rubies, Diamonds, the Various Ores in their
Natural Conditions, Coals, Rods, Talismans, Charms,
�nAbe.ATi v k.
35
Discovery of Natural Deposits, Uses of Knowledge,
&c.
To carry forward these labors, needed means have
come in unusual ways. Among the generous donors
and benefactors, John M. Sterling gave the first dol
lar, and his purse and heart have ever been ready
when he has felt it was his place to act. Another has
done more labor and given much means, who has been
translated to the higwer life, Thaddeus M. Sheldon, of
Randolph, N. Y. Much hard labor and liberal means
have been furnished byHorace Fenton, of Cleveland.
Dr. Abel Underhill for many months acted as my
amanuensis. Caroline S. Lewis has traveled with me
extensively. John
bMn liberal with his
means, and done muchto aid the social work. Jona
than Buffum and wife, Oliver Chase and wife, Stephen
and Mary Gardner, Dr. George Haskell, have been
ready to give a genemus helping; hand when their aid
has been needed. In. England, foremost among the
numerous persons who have assisted me, I am pleased
to mention the names of Andrew Leighton, of Liver
pool, James Burns, William' and Mary Tebb, Thomas
Shorter (Editor of London Spiritual Magazine), John
G. Crawford, Georgiana Houghton, all of London, and
Thomas Grant, of MaidstoneJ Through their kind
counsel Mrs. Spear was aided in the preparation and
publication of a littie workfon the position of woman,
and in founding the London Spiritual Institute.
Many pleasant recollections come to me as I write, of
counsel, encouragements, and benefactions, while in
California. Among these, stand out in bold relief the
names of Laura Cuppy, William Smith, and William
M. Rider. At Utah, I have been encouraged in many
�36
NARRATIVE.
ways by William and Mary Godbe, Henry Lawrence,
and others. In pursuing my missionary labors, I have
been in twenty-nine of the States and Territories of the
American Union; have traveled extensively in Eng
land ; have been in Wales, Scotland, Ireland, France,
the Canadas, and Central America. Under commis
sion, I have visited England from the United States
twice, and been sent to Paris four times. Few per
sons can be aware of the trials, sorrows, difficulties, or
pleasures, joys, and encouragements that attend me
diumship. Most mediums, who have had much expe
rience, and have been beibre the public, have been
looked upon with a degree of suspicion, and have been
thought to be self-seeking. In my twenty years’ ex
perience I have not been exempt from trials. Persons
have come to me for counsel in respect to their health,,
their private or public mutters. Advice has been
given. Following, in whole or in part, directions or
■ suggestions, results have not always been as pleasant
and satisfactory as they anticipated, and they have
blamed me. In vain have I said to such, “ I did not,
as a person, give you the counsel you have followed.
I did but give you what, at the time, was given me.”
Disappointed, they have heaped abuse on my head.
Sometimes I have felt called on to severely reprove
persons for unwise or wicke:d«conduct, and instead of
reforming, they have become my deadly enemies. I
have been sent on special missions to find certain per
sons ; selecting some,1 others have complained because
they were not chosen. But I had no choice in the
matter. I felt that I was acting under the direction
and guidance of unseen intelligences, who had associ
ated to accomplish certain specified purposes; and
�NARRATIVE.
37
there I rested. In some cases I have been compelled
to differ with, and to separate from some, for whom I
had had the highest respect and tenderly loved. These
trials, borne mostly in the secret chambers of my soul,
have been hard to endure. My missions have not al
ways been promotive of immediate union and peace,
but have sometimes been provocative of discord. Indi
viduals, families, and neighborhoods that had previ
ously dwelt in love and union, have been so disturbed
and separated, that I have been regarded as “ a pesti
lent fellow, and a mover of sedition.” But they,
under whose guidance I was, have taught me when
reviled not to revile again, but to return good for evil.
Doubtless the numerous trials and sorrows I have
borne, have had their good uses. Usually it is through
tribulation that we come into the fullest enjoyment
of highest truths. Bu^there is another side to which
I turn in my missionary labors. I have had more joys,
perhaps, than most persons. - Dearly have I loved the
work in which I was ®gaged. I have been helped to
see that, beyond the clouds that were round about me,
there was a living, guiding, intelligent, beneficent pur
pose, — the elevation, regeneration, and redemption
of the inhabitants of this earth. Although I have
been called to travel hundreds of thousands of miles in
my native land and foreign countries, yet, at the termination of my labors, I can truly say that all my needs,
if not all my wants, have been seasonably supplied.
Sometimes they have seemed to come in ways im
pinging on the miraculous, and occasionally in answer
to prayer. As an encouragement to others, I will
mention a few instances: —
Some fifteen years ago, when in Cleveland, one
�38
NARRATIVE.
morning when dressing, I perceived that I needed
new nnder-clothes. I looked to Heaven for them.
On the evening of that day my friend, John M. Ster
ling, called on me with a bundle under his arm, say
ing, as he entered, “ I have always worn cotton
flannels, but recently I bought woolen. I did not
feel comfortable in them, and so laid them aside.
This morning it occurred to me that you might want
them, and here they are.” I felt sure Heaven had an
swered my prayer the morning it was offered. When
engaged in developing the new motive power, of
which I have before spoken, I was directed not to ask
for external aid, being assured it would come when
needed. A Spiritualist from New Hampshire called
on me. Inspecting the mechanism, he said, “ I per
ceive it needs nursing. I think I will sell a share I
hold in the Boston and Maine Railroad and send you
the proceeds. At all events,” he continued, “I will
give you ten dollars now; ” which he did, and de
parted. Subsequently he informed me that he had
sold the share for one hundred dollars; but inasmuch
as he had already given me ten dollars, he hesitated
whether to send the one hundred or only ninety dol
lars. He had two sons who were mediums. They
knew nothing of the question in their father’s mind.
One evening they said,Father, we must read the
Bible.” They read the conduct of Ananias and Sapphira; and turning to their father, said, “ It won’t do;
you must not keep back a part of the price ; ” and he
immediately forwarded to me the one hundred dollars.
It came at an opportune moment, strengthening my
faith in the work to which my whole energies were
then directed.
�NARRATIVE.
39
While on our first mission to England, we engaged
I rooms near Regent Park. One week we had not the
means to pay our rent. Among strangers, as we then
were, we knew of nothing to do but to pray. We
knelt by our bedside, and asked for the aid we needed.
Our prayer was answered in the following remarkable
manner: A lady, Mrs. McDougal Gregory, drove to
our door, and entering our apartment, said, “ I never
make calls on Sunday, but this morning, although
Sunday, I felt I must come to you, without knowing
the purpose for which I have come.” Neither Mrs.
Spear nor myself said a word to her of our pressing
needs. But on rising to leave, she said, in a tender,
affectionate tone, “You are far away from your native
land, among strangers, and as there is war in your
country, perhaps you do not receive remittances as
often as you need them.” She then placed in Mrs.
Spear’s hand the amount needed to pay our rent.
Dear woman, she knew not of the faith and trust in
God and the invisibles with which she, by her words
and deeds, was inspiring us. Neither did she know
that she had been sent in answer to our prayer on
that dark and cloudy Sunday morning. I have said,
on a preceding page, that I was commissioned to go
to Paris four times. Although unable to speak, the
French language, yet Mrs. Spear had a sufficient
knowledge of it to answer needful purposes. At the
outset of these French missions we always had just
enough to reach our destination, but not means to
live there or to return to London; and yet all our
wants were supplied. During one of these visits, we
met a noble Russian gentleman, Alexandre Aksakof,
who had read with interest, in his native land, the
�40
NARRATIVE.
“ Educator.” He was not content to express his
pleasure at our meeting in words, but made a hand
some money-present, which -helped us on our way, and
encouraged our hearts to continue our foreign missinnary work. One day, just as I was about to commence
a journey from London to the North of England, a
lady medium called to see me. I informed her of my
purpose. Seating herself quietly, she said, “It is
right for you to go, and I peaceive that I must pay the
expenses of the journey.” I wondered how she could
know the sum required. Taking out her purse, she
handed me the exact amount. By what power was
she sent to me? Who informed her of the precise
sum needed to make that journey ? Very many more
instances might b^Jtamed of providential aid, but I
will narrate only one.
Awaking one morning from my slumbers, while in
California, I said to Mrs. Spear, “ I ought to go im
mediately to Salt Lake City.” When the first morn
ing postman came, he brought a letter from William
Godbe, of Salt Lake City, a gentleman deeply inter
ested in Spiritualism and other progressive ideas, who
had just left the Mormon Church, informing me that
our dearly-beloved friends, William and Mary Tebb,
of London, were there; that they had intended to
come to California to visit us, but it was now doubt
ful if they would make the journey on account of Mr.
Tebb’s health. I now felt an irrepressible desire to
start at once for the “ City w the Saints,” but did not
see the quarter from whence the needed means were
to come to make the journey, a distance of more than
eight hundred miles. But to my great astonishment
and delight, the second postman brought me a letter
�NARRATIVE.
41
from Colonel G. F. Lewis, of Cleveland, in which was
enclosed a check for money, to be used, as he said, for
missionary purposes. This letter had been twenty
days on its way. It should have reached me in five
or six. I made the journey to Salt Lake, and on my
return to California I had more means than when I
started. Who impressed Colonel Lewis to send me that
money? I had long known him, but he had never
before sent me a dollar. How came he to write it
was to be used for _missionary purposes ? I did not
know that he took interest enough in these missions
to aid by word or deed. Where was that letter for
twenty days which should have reached me in five ?
Had there been detention of the mails at that time ?
None. The road was open all the way from Cleve
land to San Francisco. , How came the letter to ar
rive the very morning jhen jt was so much desired
and needed ? Thesiil questions are easy to propose.
Who can answer them ?
August 6, 1872uteh® “Report of Domestic and
Foreign Missions,”
written up to July 30, being
read to the “Spirit Missionist” (Mrs. Manley, my
successor), she wrote thedfes^'ollows: —
“ Blessed angels of lovti and wisdom crown thy
head with the ever-living immortal flowers of power !
Powerful utterances they give thee at this time;
power and strength are seen in the air, and come, as
health cometh, by thy own life. Blessings are com
ing even at this life-season. Aids and auxiliaries are
coming not seen. Knowledge cometh to thee of
thousands of aids never before known. Ever present
with thee is the love of God, — ever present the home
love of all ages. The sorrowing flee to thy own home
�42
NARRATIVE.
of rest in the coming time, and a beautifully roundedout home mansion shall be the one given to thee,—not
as compensating thee for thy labors, but as a token of
love and affection from varied lives. Most lovingly
do we tender our thanks to thee for all thou hast suf
fered, and all thou hast passed through to attain the
eminence now seen, whose principal hights are seen
but by few of earth’s dwellers. Somewhat we have
to say to thee : One dawning of glorious morning
stars is seen for thy life ; one glorious home shall be
made the light of the age, and never shall any want
who eat at thy plenteous board; never shall any fam
ish who drink of the wine given by the celestials, even
at thy home table. How wonderfully hast thou been
led! ever by high intelligences. How proudly we
come to thee in this humble room, and give thee
choicest flowers of heart’s ease, that thy life may be
refreshed! One land is seen for thee to rest on, even
for a few days; and the ones who love to listen to
sweet home songs, even the birds of the air, will love
to sing to thee ; will give to thee for couches sweet
mosses, — being mosses from the garden of Christ.
“ One love we will give thee of the fruitsdain on the
table of the Divine. We will eat with thee this day ;
we will ask our writer to eat with thee, to make
lovely life to be known; we will ask all here to eat
with thee, to be as one harmonious family. Eat and
receive fresh fair flowers of inspiration. Wash in the
waters of sweet life-giving elements ; make sweet the
air with thy songs, because the air is so holy, so full
of divine songs and celestial harmonies at this hour,
we would baptize each form. Hear what is given at
this natal hour 1 Natal hour, why were ye so long
�NARRATIVE.
43
coming ? Whosoever liveth to narrate to the children
of men a history of this movement thousands of years
hence, will call this a day of feasting when the pow
ers crowned thy brow with the diamond crown of
strength; when added to thy life were powerful aux
iliaries, who must come and lean on the strong anchor
of truth. Eat and be called the, master of th^family;
eat and be called the one whom the gods of wisdom
delight to honor. Eat and be refreshed, for truly it
is said, Whom the angels of wisdom love they give
sweet feast seasons, and fullness beyond the earth’s
fullness. Whatever is given thee accept in the spirit
of love, and take it as a gift from the higher intelli
gences. Their eyes read the smiles of many, and
their strength will be given to influencing many to
leave thee a memorial of their interest in thy labors.
We will make request for the blessed light of the
General Assembly to give thee.a mantle, to make
thee a staff, even a staff of strength, to enable thee
to live ever as one who eateth at the table of power,
and needeth not the viands that sustain the children
of earth. Needs shall be supplied; and manifested for
thee shall be the tenderness of love coming from thou
sands of souls who receive the bread of wisdom from
thy teachings, the wine of love from thy leaves of
righteousness. Hold! here cometh a messenger from
the Assembly, — one man of love, called Sheldon, who
hath a huge wheaten loaf; and here cometh one
harvest basket from combined lives, that not one hour
shall thy strength fail. Eat now, and be as one who
hath supped with the assembled souls. A chain of
gold we give thee, — a chain of gold we give unto the
writer. Let peace ever reign in your lives. Let
�44
NARRATIVE.
sweetest harmonies ever be here where your lives fest
in seats of power. Let this hour be as one life of
blessed rest. Morning is dawning, and the sun hath
hid his face from the glorious realities of the coming
Sun of righteousness.”
MESSAGE FROM THE GENERAL ASSEMBLY, THIS DAY
CONVENED BY THE DIRECTION AND THE CALL OF
THE SPIRITUAL CONGRESS, ASSEMBLED IN GENERAL
CONCLAVE.
Old things, customs, manners, habits, are passing
f away, to clear the path for those that are to take their
places. The Spiritual Congress this day directs the
General Assembly, it being one of its numerous auxil
iaries, to declare through you, its general agent and
communicator, to the inhabitants of earth, that through
its varied instrumentalities a social revolution has now
begun, that is to extend from individuals to families,
and from families to tribes and nations, shaking and
removing whatever can be shaken, while that which
can not be shaken will remain. The Spiritual Con
gress holds this day one of its grand jubilees, it being
the twentieth anniversary of its annunciation to the
clear vision of the chosen Apostle of Nature. Well
has he performed his work, and he soon retires from
public life to engage in proposed private pursuits, for
which, by his social position and spiritual and intel
lectual culture, he has become eminently prepared.
On the 12th day of the 9th month of the present year
the general labors and mission of the General Assem
bly closes its conjoined efforts, and with its cessation
terminate all the missions of its apostles, teachers, and
�NARRATIVE.
45
healers, including those of its general agent and com
municator, and it desires that all documents, books, or
other property, be placed in the hand and at the dis
posal of the newly-selected spirit missionist, and she
will in due time direct of their future uses and dispo
sal. Personal addresses are not included in this direc
tion. Retiring to private life, the general agent and
communicator of the General Assembly will accept
such assistance as may be tendered him or his com
panion, or to their friends or agents; and as sums of
cash or other property shall be tendered them, the
same shall be placed in the careful hands, or be under
the direction of, the gentleman known in the spirit
world as the Homeologist; he making such provision
for the home of the communicator of the General As
sembly and his companion as shall be in harmony with
his business judgment; thus securing one home for
the earnest and faithful, it will open the way for other
homes, that in the time of the present social revolu■fion will be needed. Some will be concealed from
the gaze of the world, while others in open field will
fight valiantly the great battle now to be commenced;
their weapons being spi^tual, they will be mighty to
• silence, overcome, and conquer the evils of the present
disorganized social state. The faithful Deborah is to
co-operate with the Homeologist in the home efforts in
such ways as has been and will be indicated, through
z the writing of her who is known by the General Assem
bly as the spirit missionist, she becoming an interme
diate agent until other movements on the part of the
spiritual congress shall have, through her, been made
known to other parties. The General Assembly now
directs the general agenl and communicator to offi
�46
NARRATIVE.
cially inform the Homeologist of the work desired of
him, and it also directs that the report begun be fin
ished on or before the twentieth anniversary of his
appointment, and that the address of the spirit missionist, and also the message now being given, be in
corporated into the report to the spirit missionist;
that the general agent keep in his own care the origi
nal of the report, and that another copy of the same
be placed in the hand of him who temporarily is called
the Colonial Supervisor.
Inspected by the Mission Committee of the Spirit
ual Congress, in connection with the Committee of
the General Assembly |l and unitedly sanctioned and
unanimously approved by the President of the Spirit
ual Congress, John Hancock, and the President of the
General Assembly, Benj. Franklin.
Frances Wright, Secretary,
and General Communicator of the Spiritual Congress,
in conjunction with the General Assembly.
August 7, 1872.
“Dear Spirit Missionist: I place this report
in your hands, having in some degree trodden the
missionary path ; rough though it has sometimes
been, it will be easier for those who come after me to
follow. It is ever to be borne in mind that while
Paul may plant and Apollos water, God give th the
increase. Allow me to ask that you heed with care
the voices that shall salute your spiritual ear. Retir
ing from missionary labors, I now proceed to the
organization and upbuilding of colonial homes, to
�NARRATIVE
47
which, you will be welcome when the infirmities of
age shall be upon you, receiving there the reward's
of private and of public duties faithfully performed.
Let thy motto ever be, ‘ Do justly, love mercy, act in
harmony with the light given thee.’ ”
John Murray Spear.
Ancoba, N. J., September 12, 1872.
�Friends who may desire to make contributions of any kind/
to furnish the comforts of a home for Mr. Spear, in harmony
with the kind hope expressed by Mr. Putnam, in his PrefaceCp. 9,J can send the same to either of the following named per
sons, or directly to Mr. Spear, 241 North Eleventh Street, Phila!
delpliia.
Allen Putnam, 426 Dudley Street, Boston.
Thatcher Hinckley, Hyannis, Mass.
Mrs, Oliver Dennett, Portland, Maine.
Dr. George Hashell. Ancora, N. J.
Mrs. Caroline S. Lewis, Cleveland, Ohio.
Mrs. Thomas Hornbrook, Wheeling, West Virginia.
Dr. John Mayhew. Washington, D. C.
Fox Holden, Watkins, N. Y.
Oliver G. Chase, Jamestown, N. Y.
Milo A. Townsend, Beaver Falls. Pa.
Thomas Richmond, Chicago, Illinois.
Warren Chase, 614 N. Fifth Street, St. Louis, Mo.
Laura Cuppy Smith, 179 Temple Street, New Haven, Conn.
A. B. Child, West Fairlee, Vermont.
Andrew T. Foss, Manchester, N. H.
Mrs. Mary Godbe, Salt Lake City, Utah
Wm. M. Rider, San Francisco. California.
Mrs. H. F. M. Brown, San Diego, California.
Andrew Leighton, Liverpool.
William Tebb, 20 Rochester Road, Camden Road. London.
Hay Nisbett, 164 Trongate, Glasgow.
Alexander Aksakoe, St. Petersburg,
�
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Victorian Blogging
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A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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Conway Hall Library & Archives
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2018
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
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Twenty years on the wing: brief narrative of my travels and labors as a missionary sent forth and sustained by the association of beneficents in spirit land
Creator
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Spear, John Murray [1804-1887.]
Putnam, Allen
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: Boston
Collation: 47 p. ; 20 cm.
Notes: From the library of Dr Moncure Conway. Smaller sheet bound in following last page listing people who have made "contributions of any kind to furnish the comforts of a home for Mr. Spear ...".
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William White and Company
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1873
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G5223
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Missionaries
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Conway Tracts
Missionaries
Spiritualism
Spiritualists-United States
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Text
1Z3S6
MS 4-1
NATIONAL SECULAR SOCIETY
THE
RELIGION AND MORALITY
OF
SHAKESPEARE’S WORKS;
BEING A LECTURE DELITEBED BEFORE THE
SUNDAY LECTURE SOCIETY,
The 16th of November, 1873.
By CHARLES J. PLUMPTRE,
Lecturer at King's College, London.
LONDON:
PUBLISHED
by the
SUNDAY LECTURE SOCIETY.
1873.
Price Threepence.
�ADVERTISEMENT.
SUNDAY LECTURE SOCIETY.
To provide for the delivery on Sundays in the Metropolis, and
to encourage the delivery elsewhere, of Lectures on Science,
—physical, intellectual, and moral,—History, Literature,
and Art; especially in their bearing upon the improve
ment and social well-being of mankind.
THE SOCIETY’S LECTURES
ARE DELIVERED AT
ST GEORGE’S HALL, LANGHAM PLACE,
On SUNDAY Afternoons, at FOUR o'clock precisely.
(Annually— from November to May.)
Twenty-four Lectures (in three series), ending 3rd Mav
1874, will be given.
Members’ £1 subscription entitles them to an annual ticket
transferable and admitting to the reserved seats), and to eight
single reserved-seat tickets available for any lecture.
Tickets for each series (one for each lecture), or for any
eight consecutive lectures, as below :
To the Shilling Reserved Seats—5s- 6dTo the Sixpenny Seats—2s- being at the rate of Three
pence each lecture.
For tickets apply (by letter) to the Hon. Treasurer, Wm.
Henry Domville, Esq., 15 Gloucester Crescent. Hvde
Park, W.
Payment at the door One Penny ;—Sixpence ;_ and
(Reserved Seats) One Shilling.
�PREFACE.
The Author of this Lecture has to acknowledge
the assistance rendered him in its preparation
from three different sources, viz., the Rev. George
Gilfillan’s Lecture on Shakespeare ; a very inter
esting little work entitled ‘ Bible Truths and
Shakespeare Parallels ’ by James Brown ; and a
most learned critique on ‘Gervinus on Shake
speare’which appeared in the Westminster Review
about ten years ago.
A 2
��THE RELIGION AND MORALITY
OF
SHAKESPEARE’S WORKS.
----- *----F any Englishman were asked who is the
greatest Poet that ever adorned his country’s
Literature, he would answer, without any hesi
tation, I imagine, ‘Milton’ or ‘Shakespeare.’
Two great minds indeed, enriched with the
highest powers of that creative faculty which is
the very essence of the Poet’s nature ; and which
the word in its original signification literally
means:—but how different in their natures and
attributes I Milton, it seems to me, might fitly
be compared to some grand Alpine mountain
range, rising majestically above the sunny smiling
plains by which it is surrounded. As we strive,
with adventurous spirit, to ascend to its loftiest
heights, we soon leave the green pastures and
the golden cornfields, the village spires and the
peasants’ chalets, with all their sweet human
associations, far, far away beneath us. We pass
through the thick, dark forests of fir and pine,
which belt the mountains’ side. We emerge from
their gloomy shades to find (it may be), as I have
known it in my wanderings but a few weeks ago,
I
�6
The Religion and Morality
the sunlight gone, the blue sky vanished—and,
in their place, clouds, almost as black as midnight,
riven only by the incessant flashes of the lurid
lightning; while above, around, the roar of the
thunder is heard, echoing and re-echoing in the
seemingly fathomless ravines and gorges on every
side. We seek what shelter we may for awhile ;
and then, when the violence of the storm is past,
and the lightning flashes remotely in the distance,
and the sound of heaven’s artillery is heard only
far away, we continue our ascent. Through dense
clouds, through huge shadowy masses of vapour
and mist, that rise slowly and solemnly like vast
spectral forms from the depths below, we make
our way, until at length we seem to have left
this lower world altogether, and emerge on a scene
which leaves on the minds of those who for the
first time behold it an impression that can never
be forgotten. We are no longer in the regions of
Life—on every side are wide plateaus of snow
and ice—we stand upon a mountain crag, ‘and
on the torrent’s brink beneath, behold the tall
pines dwindled as to shrubs in dizziness of dis
tance;’ we hear, from time to time, the ava
lanches below ‘ crash with a frequent conflict ’—
while still, far up the heights, shoot forth those
monarch peaks crowned with their diadems of
eternal snow, now blushing like the rose, as they
are kissed by the first beams of Day—then,
standing pure and dazzling in their snowy whiteness against the deep, dark blue of noon—anon
glowing in lurid light of crimson, gold and ame
thyst, as they are lit up by the fiery radiance of
the setting sun—then slowly, in the approaching
�Of Shakespeare's Works.
p
twilight and darkness, fading 1 like the unsub
stantial fabric of a vision,’ silently and solemnly
away; until, a few hours later, they gleam forth
again, robed in fresh garments of unearthly
beauty, and shining pale and spectral-like in all
the mysterious loveliness of moonlight on the Alps.
Now, such a scene as this, on which my eyes
so lately rested, seems to me no inapt type of the
genius of Milton; and of the visions of grandeur,
wonder, sublimity, and awe through which ‘ he
bodies forth the forms of things unknown.’
Regions peopled by beings of supernatural origin
and dark malignity, whose dwellings are like the
halls of Eblis in Eastern mythology; realms of
celestial happiness tenanted by angels, archangels,
and all the company of heaven, over whom reigns
as sovereign the Eternal Father, and only inferior
to him in the poet’s description, the Eternal Son ;
the formation of the universe out of chaos : the
creation of the human race; the entrance of evil
in the world; all these, surely, are the very
elements of sublimity and awe, and well may
Milton be compared in the loftiness of his range
of thought to the sky-aspiring monarchs of the
mountains. But I venture to think the analogy
holds further yet. The mountain has its attendant
shadow, and the loftier the mountain the further
does its shadow extend. Dare I then say, with
all the admiration I feel for Milton’s genius, with
all the veneration with which I regard the
purity of his motives, and the sterling inde
pendent worth of his character, that I yet think
a shadow has been cast by the very altitude of
all these, over much of the theological thought of
�8
The Religion and Morality
England, and which has only comparatively of
late years begun to fade away before the advancing
light of a cultured reason—surely man’s noblest,
greatest prerogative, which I, for one, believe to
have been given him by his Creator, to be rightly
used, to discover all the wise laws by which
He rules; to see His power and goodness in all
nature ; and to worship him as the All-Father:
and which right man ought not to put aside, to
bow down in slavish submission before any
unreasonable dogma, however venerable for its
antiquity, or sanctioned by an authoritative
name.
I do not think I go too far, when I say, such a
shadow has been cast by the very height of
Milton’s genius over much of our popular
theology. To take one instance only, I would
ask, Is not the embodiment of Satan as the Prin
ciple of evil, in the Serpent form that persuaded
Eve in Paradise, rather an idea we owe to Milton,
than to anything that is to be found in the
Hebrew Scriptures ? I remember well the late
Frederic Denison Maurice in a remarkable sermon
of his that is published, commenting on this nar
rative, asks why we should presume to be wiser
than the record, whatever it may mean, and
add statements for which that record affords in
itself no foundation. But I venture not further
in this direction.
• Let me turn then to that poet, who is so essen
tially the poet, not of an age, but of all Time —
Shakespeare.
If I likened Milton in his sublimity, to the
Alpine mountain, soaring upwards to the sky, I
�9
Of Shakespeare s Works.
would compare Shakespeare to a majestic river,
on whose vine-clad steeps I was lately standing,
in a foreign land. Springing forth at first, from
its remote birthplace in the rocks, a few scarcely
noticeable threads of water, it slowly gathers
strength and size; flowing through tranquil val
leys, and gently laving the grass and flowers
that fringe its banks, it receives tributary streams
on every side, and begins now to broaden and
deepen rapidly, as it passes onward in its course,
associated in every age with momentous events
in the history of the neighbouring nations. As
it gradually pursues its appointed course, this
mighty river, to which I refer, calls up before our
minds, the memory of Roman conquests and de
feats ; of the chivalrous exploits of feudal times;
of the coronations of Emperors, whose bones re
pose by its side ; of the wars and negotiations in
more recent days. Its scenery becomes as varied
as its history—now it flows through wild and
picturesque rocks and lofty mountain crags,
crowned with castles, fortresses, and ruins, with
which a thousand wild and romantic legends are
connected; then through thick forests and fertile
plains; then through wild ravines and gorges,
with vineyards sloping from their summits to the
water’s edge ; then through populous cities,
flourishing towns, and quiet villages; bringing
to them all, on its broad bosom, the riches of
Trade and Commerce, and all the varied products
of its shores : until at last its magnificent course
is run ; and nearly a thousand miles away from
its secluded birthplace, it is absorbed in the allembracing ocean.
B
�IO
The Religion and Morality
Now, I think, to such a river the course of
Shakespeare’s genius may be well compared, and
the influence of his works likened. But com
paratively little felt at first were ‘the earnest
thought and profound conviction, the homely yet
subtle wisdom, the deep, historical interest, the
poetic truth, the sweet lyrical effusion, the soar
ing imagination, and grand prophetic insight.’
But, as the noble river broadens and deepens, so
does the intellect, the genius, the influence of
Shakespeare. As the ages roll on, and one gene
ration succeeds another, still more deeply, still
more widely, is that influence felt; enriching
men’s minds, exalting their souls, humanising
their affections with all its precious stores, its
boundless wealth of Religion and morality.
‘ Next to the Bible ’ (we are told by a brilliant
critic), ‘ next to the Bible, I believe in Shake
speare ! ’ once exclaimed to him, an intelligent
woman; who, like most of us, had felt something
of the catholic wisdom enshrined in the writings
of the world’s greatest Poet: and, echoes a learned
Professor, ‘ his works have often been called a
secular Bible.’ Common sense and erudition thus
agree in recognising the same broad simplicity
and universal natures, in the splendid utterances
of Hebrew and English intelligence, preserved in
these perennially popular books. Both alike deal
with the greatest problems of Life; both open
those questions which knock for answer at every
human heart; both reflect the humanity which
is common to us all; both delineate the features
which mark and distinguish individual men. (a)
(a) Westminster Review, No. 48—New Series.
�Of Shakespeare's Works.
i i
A true and just comment indeed, for it is in the
highest sense of the word, this catholic spirit
which vivifies Shakespeare’s works, that forms
one of their chief and special characteristics.
And now I proceed to the task I have more
particularly undertaken, to gather from the
broad river of Shakespeare’s genius, some of the
precious wealth of Religion and morality with
which his priceless argosies are so richly laden.
And first, as regards Religion. Nothing strikes
me as more beautiful than the religious element
which marks Shakespeare’s writings. Here is
nothing gloomy, nothing narrow, nothing ascetic.
It is not thrust obtrusively upon us ; but it breaks
forth as naturally and spontaneously as the sun
light which irradiates and warms, which cheers
and comforts this lower world. It is this spirit
of love, of trust, and confidence in an all-wise
and all-merciful Creator which is the Religion
that Shakespeare preaches and inculcates. Hear
how he tells us all that ‘ we are in God’s hand,’
that ‘though our thoughts are ours, their ends are
none of our own;’ that ‘ heaven has an end in all
that ‘ God is the wisdom’s champion and defence ;’
and in one of his noblest passages he bursts forth
in the sublime exclamation :—
God shall be my hope,
My stay, my guide and lantern to my feet!
The last finishing touch, which he gives to the
portraiture of one of his finest historical charac
ters is, when he tells us, that ‘ to add greater
honours to his age, than man could give him, he
died, fearing God.’
B 2
�12
The Religion and Morality
Again, how beautifully does the religious spirit
in reference to God’s highest attributes, as we
conceive them, continually break forth in his
pages,—like a fountain in the golden sunshine.
Take, for instance, one of these divine attributes
and that the loveliest—Mercy. Does he not tell
■us that
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice bless’d ;
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes ;
’Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown ;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings ;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway ;
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God’s,
When mercy seasons justice.
In another place too, dwelling on the same
theme, how full of pathos is his eloquent
appeal—
How would you be,
If He who is the top of judgment, should
But judge you, as you are ? Oh, think on that,
And mercy then will breathe within your lips,
Like man new-made !
Then, too, conspicuous, in innumerable places,
is the sense of Shakespeare’s abiding faith in the
over-ruling Providence of God; as when he says—
Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well,
When our deep plots do fail: and that should teach us,
There’s a Divinity that shapes our ends,
Kough-hew them how we will!
i
�Of Shakespeare s Works.
i 3
What a solemn warning, too, does he give us,
in respect to prayer for mere temporal blessings
and advantages, in the words—
We, ignorant of ourselves,
Beg often our own harm, which the Wise Powers
Deny us for our good ; so we find profit
By losing of our prayers.
But prayer in the highest sense of the com
munion of our souls with God, and trust in his
all-righteous dealings with us, he ever inculcates.
‘ God knows of pure devotion,’ he says, and
counsels us ‘to put our quarrels to the will of
heaven,’ for
God will be avenged for the deed :
Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm ;
He needs no indirect or lawless course,
To cut off those who have offended him.
And in holy exultation raises the cry
Now, God be praised ! that to believing souls
Gives light to darkness—comfort to despair.
Repentance, with mere lip services, repentance,
that would only be manifest in words, but not in
deeds, that would strive to obtain pardon for the
«c£, and yet enjoy all its sensual and worldly ad
vantages, meets ever with the sternest and
severest rebuke. Where was a self-tormented—
a justly tortured soul, in its inmost workings,
ever laid more awfully bare and naked before our
eyes, than in the vainly attempted prayer of the
wicked King in Hamlet ?
Oh, my offence is rank—it smells to heaven,
Itjiath the primal, eldest curse upon’t,
�14
The Religion and Morality
A brother’s murder! Pray, I cannot;
Though inclination be as sharp as will :
My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent;
And like a man to double business bound,
1 stand in pause, where I shall first begin,
And both neglect. What if this cursed hand
Were thicker than itself with brother’s blood,
Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens
To wash it, white as snow 1 Whereto serves mercy
But to confront the visage of offence ?
And;what’s in prayer, but this twofold force,
To be forestalled, ere we come to fall;
Or pardon’d, being down. Then 1’11 look up,
My fault is past. But, oh ! what form of prayer
Can serve my turn ? ‘ Forgive me, my foul murder,’—
That cannot be, since I am still possest
Of those effects for which I did the murder,
My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen.
May one be pardon’d and retain th’ offence ?
In the corrupted currents of this world,
Offence’s gilded hand may shove by justice,
And oft ’tis seen the wicked prize itself
Buys out the law. But ’tis not so above ;
There is no shuffling ; there the action lies
In its true nature ; and we ourselves compell’d,
Even in the teeth and forehead of our faidts,
To give in evidence. What then ? What rests?
Try what repentance can ? W hat can it not ?
Yet what can it, when one can not repent ?
Oh, wretched state 1 oh, bosom, black as death !
Oh, limed soul that struggling to be free,
Art more engaged ! Help, angels ! make assay !
Bow, stubborn knees, and heart with strings of steel,
Ke soft as sinews of the new-born babe I
My words fly up I my thoughts remain below !
Words, without thoughts, never to heaven go !
If there is any preacher who would deter us
from sin and crime, by the se^-punishment which
they bring, and the tortures which, sooner or
later, they inflict upon the human conscience, it
�Of Shakespeare's Works.
15
is Shakespeare. In this he is not surpassed even
by the greatest of the Greek Dramatists. Truly,
in his scenes, does the man of blood and crime
create, out of his thoughts, his- own Eumenides.
What language can depict more vividly the hor
rors of a self-accusing conscience than passages
such as these ?
I am alone, the villain of the earth,
And feel I am so most !
Oh ! when the last account ’twixt heaven and earth
Is to be made, then shall this hand and seal,
Witness against us to damnation.
How oft the sight of meaus to do ill deeds
Makes ill deeds done !
And, again, never surely were so much awe,
dread, and terror at the close of a wicked life,
suggested in three lines, as in those addressed to
the dying Cardinal Beaufort:—
Lord Cardinal, if thou think’st on heaven’s bliss
Hold up thy hand ! make signal of thy hope !
He dies and makes no sign ! Oh, God, forgive him !
Shakespeare, indeed, is ever warning us that
the hour must come to us all, when our vices and
crimes will rise, like spectres before us, in all
their horror, and stand ‘ bare and naked trem
bling at themselves.’ What a sermon is contained
in this brief text!
Death ! thou art he, that will not flatter princes,
That stoops not to authority ; nor gives
A specious name to tyranny ; but shows
Our actions in their own deformed likeness.
I shall offer but one quotation more in regard
�16
The Religion and Morality
to this solemn lesson which Shakespeare is so
continually enforcing in all his greatest dramas
—the sense of our responsibility to God and our
accountability to him, for all the faculties, gifts,
and talents which he has bestowed upon us ; and
that all the riches, honours and dignities of this
world are but the merest vanities—are as nothing
compared to a well-spent life, and a conscience
void of offence to God and man. No solemn
dirge, pealing forth from some great organ and
rolling in waves of harmony down the ‘ dim,
mysterious aisles ’ of some venerable cathedral,
affects me more, whenever I read them, than the
last words which Shakespeare has put into the
lips of Cardinal Wolsey. I know no music
more touching than the flow of their exquisite
and melancholy rhythm:—
Nay, then, farewell !
I have touched the highest point of all my greatness ;
And from that full meridian of my glory,
I haste now to my setting I I shall fall,
Like a bright exhalation in the evening,
And no man see me more.
This the state of man : to-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hope ; to-morrow blossoms,
And bears his blushing honours thick upon him :
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost,
And when he thinks—good easy man—full surely
His greatness is a ripening, nips his root ;
And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured,
(Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders)
These many summers in a sea of glory ;
But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride
At length broke under me ; and now has left me,
Weary, and old with service, to the mercy
Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Vain pomp and glory of this world I hate ye !
�Of Shakespeare's Works.
17
I feel my heart new opened. O ! how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes’ favours !
There is betwixt that smile he would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes and his ruin,
More pangs and fears, than wars or women have ;
And when he falls, he falls, like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.
Oh, Cromwell 1 Cromwell !
Had I but served my God with half the zeal
I served my king, he would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies !
And now Time warns me that I must leave
this first portion of my subject,—the religion con
tained in Shakespeare’s works, and pass on toconsider the morality with which they are im
bued ; although I know well, that I have but
barely opened this part of the mine of religious
wealth with which his writings teem. Well
indeed may Shakespeare be termed a Lay-Bible,
and it is certain that it is to a diligent study of
the English version of the Bible we are indebted
to him for some of his finest thoughts and
language. In his dramas alone I have myself
counted upwards of eighty distinct allusions or
paraphrases of scriptural characters, incidents, or
language. But before I finally quit this division
of my Lecture, I would notice, that what is so
strikingly characteristic of Shakespeare’s religion
is, that it is so pre-eminently coloured with the
Spirit of that religion which was taught by the
Great Master. It has, indeed, been well said that
the peculiarly Christian spirit, in the highest and
most comprehensive sense of the word, leavening
the whole of Shakespeare’s philosophy, is every
where observable in the fondness with which,
�i8
The Religion and Morality
through the medium of his noble characters, he
produces, in endless change of argument and
imagery, illustrations of that wisdom, which is
‘ first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to
be entreated ’ In his allusions to the Deity, he
delights in all those attributes that more par
ticularly represent Him as the God of Love and
Peace ; and as between man and man, would
rather inculcate the humanising doctrine of
forgiveness, and recommend 1 the quality of
mercy ’ than the rugged justice of 'the eye for
eye and tooth for tooth ’ morality of the Hebrew
Code of Ethics. With what tenderness, and yet
with what power, he advocates in innumerable
passages, those virtues which the Christian spirit
more especially enjoins upon us for our guidance.
See how he holds up to our admiration that
gentleness of soul ‘ that seeketh not her own,’
That hath a tear for pity, and a hand,
Open as day, for melting charity.
The true spirit of forgiveness breathes in the
line ‘ I pardon him as God shall pardon me !’
Does he not tell us that
God’s benison goes with us, and with those
That would make good of bad, and friends of foes ;
that ‘ we are born to do benefits,’ that ‘ kindness
is the cool and temperate wind of Grace ’ ‘ nobler
even than revenge,’ and that to help another in
adversity, we should
Strain a little ;
For ’tis a bond in men.
‘ To revenge/ he says, 'is no valour, but to
�Of Shakespeare's Works.
19
bear,’ and that ‘ rarer action is in virtue, than in
vengeance.' With what gems of epithets does he
adorn the idea of Peace—‘ Peace that draws the
sweet infant breath of gentle sleepbut it is
not the inglorious ‘ peace at any price ’ of the
coward or the slave ; not the peace of inaction or
a shameful yielding up of what we hold to be
good and true, at the command of tyrannical
oppression, for he bids us remember also that
Rightly to be great,
Is greatly to find honour in a straw
When honour’s at the stake.
But the Peace that he would commend to us is
that self denying, self restraining, self victorious
Peace which
Is of the nature of a conquest;
For then both parties nobly are subdued,
And neither party, loser.
Again, of Compassion, he does not merely say
that it hates ‘ the cruelty that loads a falling
manbut he bids us remember, too,
That ’tis not enough to hold the feeble up
But to support him after.
Of Contentment, he speaks in passages more
than I can dare quote ; but it is ever an active,
healthy contentment that he praises. He grandly
exclaims:—
My crown is in my heart, not on my head ;
Not deck’d with diamonds and Indian stones ;
Nor to be seen ; my crown is called Content ;
A crown it is, that seldom kings enjov.
�20
The Religion and Morality
And he assures us—
’Tis better to be lowly born
And range with virtuous livers, in content,
Than to be perk’d up in a glistening grief,
And wear a golden sorrow.
And where can there be found a more beauti
ful picture of a contented mind than in these
exquisite lines : —
Now my co-mates and brothers in exile,
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet
Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods
More free from peril than the envious court ?
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,
The season’s difference ; as the icy fang
And churlish chiding of the winter’s wind,
Which, when it bites, and blows upon my body
E’en till I shrink with cold, I smile and say
This is no flattery ; these are counsellors
That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Sweet are the uses of adversity ;
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in its head ;
And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything.
But it is not merely as a moralist of the higher
grade that Shakespeare shines so conspicuously
—it is not merely as a Preacher of the loftier
virtues that he is so deserving of our admiration.
View him on a lower level. Regard him as the
exponent of sound practical wisdom in common
life—in every-day experience. Where was ever
more sensible advice given in regard to a young
man’s social intercourse with the world than
in these memorable lines, and what pitfalls
�Of Shakespeare's Works.
21
would be avoided, if they were but borne
in mind 1
Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.
The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel,
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch’d unfledg’d comrade.
Beware of entrance to a quarrel; but being in,
Bear it that the opposer may beware of thee.
Give every man thine ear; but few thy voice :
Take each man’s censure ; but reserve thy judgment.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be ;
°
For loan oft loses both itself and friend ;
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This, above all—to thine own self be true,
And it must follow—as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
I could go on, far beyond the scope to which I
am limited, in my quotations illustrating the
soundness of Shakespeare’s ethical teaching, and
his enforcement of every form of morality. ’ But
let us see how he deals with vice in every form,
no matter under what mask its visage may be
hidden. Injustice, in its broadest sense, ever
meets with his sternest reprobation. He asks,
with all the fire of enthusiasm:
What stronger breast-plate than a heart untainted ?
Thrice is he arm’d, that has his quarrel just ;
And he but naked, though lock’d up in steel,
Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
Hear, too, how he reprobates that assassin of
the soul whose dagger has so often sought to slay
the good and noble character that has at all risen
above, or placed itself in opposition to, the false
�24
The Religion and Morality
grows with such pernicious root‘Deceitfulness,
which to betray doth wear an angel’s face, to
seize with eagle’s talons;’ ‘ Implacability,’ relent
less ; that is, ‘ beastly, savage, devilish ;’ ‘ Dupli
city,’ 1 that can smile and smile and be a villain
and last ‘ Hypocrisy,’ ‘ with devotion’s visage and
pious action,’ can ‘ sugar o’er the Devil himself.’
Surely (as George Gilfillan says) Shakespeare
was the greatest and most humane of all moral
ists. Seeing more clearly than mere man ever
saw into the evils of human nature and the cor
ruptions of society, into the natural weakness
and the acquired vices of man, he can yet love,
pity, forget his anger, and clothe him in the
mellow light of his genius, like the sun, which
in certain days of peculiar balm and beauty,
seems to shed its beams, like an amnesty, on all
created beings.’
I know full well that in the hour’s limit to
which the lectures given before this Society are
properly confined, I have been enabled only to
bring to the surface comparatively a few of the
precious ores of the religious spirit, the wisdom,
and the morality, which lie in such rich profusion
in the golden mine of Shakespeare’s works. But
I think I have said enough, to justify the claim
of Shakespeare to rank foremost amongst the
world’s greatest, wisest, noblest, Preachers of
Religion and Morality; and in conclusion, I know
of no words that could serve me so eloquently
as a peroration, as those of the writer and critic
whom I last named. ‘If force of genius—sympathy
with every form and feeling of humanity—tlie
heart of a man united to the imagination of
�Of Shakespeare's Works.
25
a Poet, and wielding the Briarean hands of
a Demigod — if the writing of thirty-two
Dramas, which are colouring, to this hour, the
literature of the world—if the diffusion of harm
less happiness in immeasurable quantity—if the
stimulation of innumerable minds—if the promo
tion of the spirit of Charity and universal
brotherhood ; if these constitute, for mortal man,
titles to the name of Benefactor, and to that
praise which ceases not with the sun but ex
pands with immortality ; then the name and
the praise must support the throne which
Shakespeare has established over the minds of
the inhabitants of an earth which may be known
in other parts of the Universe as Shakespeare’s
World.’
��WORKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
Just Published, Price One Shilling.
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* An Introductory Lecture on Elocution con
sidered in reference to “ Public and Social Life,”
delivered at King’s College, London, at the be
ginning of the Winter Session of the Evening
Classes Department for 1873-4, by Charles
John Plumptre, Lecturer on Public Reading
and Speaking at King’s College, Evening Classes
Department.
London: T. J. Allman, 463 Oxford Street.
------- ♦-------
PRESS NOTICES.
A very interesting discourse.— The Times, October 11.
An excellent address.—Dailt News, October 11.
“ Clergyman’s Sore Throat” would cease to exist, and laryn
geal and bronchial affections generally would be diminished,
if the vocal organs received early and adequate training.—
Lancet, October 18.
�11
Advertisements.
Preparing for Publication a new and greatly enlarged
Edition, cloth 8vo (price Six Shillings), of
JVmtfs {^allege H’tcfiirts dll (tfotufion,
Being the substance of the Introductory Course
of Lectures and Practical Instruction in Publid
Reading and Speaking, annually delivered by
Charles John Plumptre, Lecturer on Public
Reading and Speaking, King’s College, Evening
Classes Department.
Dedicated by permission
to H.R.H. the Prince of Wales.
*#* This volume will contain special courses of
Lectures on the various branches of Elocution,
Public Reading, and Speaking, considered in
reference to the various Professions, the art of
Extempore Speaking, the vocation of Lecturing
generally, Social Speech-making, and the causes
and means of removal of the various kinds of
Impediments of Speech.
London: T. J. Allman, 463, Oxford Street.
�Advertisements.
111
PRESS NOTICES OF LAST EDITION.
------- ♦-------
Mr. Plumptre has now for several years fulfilled with signal
ability the duties devolving upon him as the Lecturer on Pub
lic Reading and Speaking at King’s College, London, in the
Evening Classes Department. Happily he has afforded us,
one and all, the opportunity for judging of him, not merely by
hearsay—of estimating him not simply by the range or scope
of his reputation. He has now given to the outer public the
means of weighing in the balance his various capabilities as
an instructor in Elocution. He has, in the shape of a goodly
volume of 200 pages octavo, presented to every one who lists
a series of fourteen of these famous King’s College Lectures of
his on Elocution—fourteen sub-divisions of a most instructive
and comprehensive theme—the substance of the introductory
Course of Lectures and Practical Instruction he has now for
some time past been annually delivering. The book is Dedi
cated, by Permission, to H.R.II. the Prince of Wales. It is
followed by two very remarkable appendices—one of them
singularly instructive, the other very curiously interesting. So
far as any merely printed book on Elocution could accomplish
its object, this one by Mr. Plumptre is entitled to our
highest commendation. The eye, the face, the voice, the ges
ture are of course all wanting, but the argument throughout
is so lucid in itself, while the illustrations of that argument are
so animated and so singularly felicitous, that reading the
work attentively page by page and lecture by lecture, is the
next best thing to seeing and hearing the gifted Professor him
self, when he is, in his own person, exemplifying the manifold
and ever-varying charms of the all-conquering art of the
Rhetorician and Elocutionist.—Sun, March 5, 1870.
This, although not a law book, is a book for lawyers. Prac
tical treatises on various branches of the law may be essential
to store the mind of the advocate with ideas, but unless he
has the power of expressing them in such a way as to com
mand the attention of the court, his learning will prove of but
little avail. To a barrister the brains are of but little use
without the tongue, and even the tongue, however fluent, may
fail to give due expression to the ideas, unless the voice is
properly regulated so as to pronounce with both clearness and
force the words that are uttered, and the gestures of the body
�IV
Advertisements.
enforce what the language has attempted to impress. Many
are the failures of those who would otherwise have been suc
cessful advocates from want of attention to the principles of
elocution. Their matter has been excellent, but their manner
has been so bad as entirely to destroy the effect that their ad
dress must otherwise have produced. We would point to
instances of this kind in Parliament, at the Bar, and in the
Pulpit. To all such persons the work before us will be found
invaluable ; and indeed there are few, if any, whose duties re
quire them to speak in public, who will fail to derive advan
tage from its perusal. The subject is treated in a thoroughly
practical manner, and is fully investigated with care and
judgment. Mr. Plumptre speaks with the authority of a pro
fessor, and he appears to understand his subject entirely, and
in all its different branches. He is quite aware of all the
difficulties to be encountered, and is ready with advice how
to meet them. His work evinces considerable research, ex
tensive classical and general knowledge, and is moreover full
of interesting matter. We commend it heartily alike to
those who aspire to become orators in Parliament, to the
Clergy, and to the Bar.—Quarterly Law Review, May,
1870.
In these days, when Lectures and “ Penny Readings ” are
patronised by the “upper ten thousand,” and Dukes, Mar
quises, Earls, Viscounts, Barons, Baronets, M.P.’s, and
Esquires take part in them, and when at public dinners no
one is supposed to be “ unaccustomed to public speaking,” it
is highly desirable that those who appear on the platform, or
who rise at public banquets, should be able to go through their
parts satisfactorily. To accomplish this there are only two
ways, one, to take lessons in Elocution, the other to read works
published with a view of imparting as much practical instruc
tion as can possibly be imparted by precept, where practice
cannot be attained. Mr C. J. Plumptre, Lecturer at King’s
College, London, has just published a volume upon the Prin
ciples and Practice of Elocution, which will be found to be of
the highest value to every one who is called on, either con
stantly or at intervals, to speak in public. As a teacher, Mr
Plumptre is most skilful: he is a Master of his Art, and those
who cannot avail themselves of his services will do well
to study his treatise, which is lucid, sound, and practical.
The “King’s College Lectures” of Mr Plumptre have been
honoured by the patronage of the Prince of Wales, to whom
the volume is by permission dedicated.—Court Journal,
Dec. 11, 1869.
�Advertisements.
v
Mr Plumptre has, in this volume, reproduced his lectures on
public reading and speaking, which were delivered at King’s
College. We consider that the chief novelty in the hook is
that it contains instruction for public reading as well as
speaking. The science of public reading is very much neglected,
and we are very glad to see that Mr Plumptre favours the
world with a tolerably comprehensive book, which is partly
devoted to this science. We purposely rank Elocution as a
science, as we agree with Mr Plumptre in thinking that it lies
far above a mere art. We believe that if everyone who wishes
to read and speak well were to read and learn by heart
Lecture V., the benefit would be enormous, and the effect
almost immediately appreciable. We find some practical
directions for the management and preservation of the voice,
and although we are not qualified to give an opinion on the
medical part, yet we have the authority of the Lancet for saying
that the suggestions are very practical and the curative mea
sures recommended excellent. We believe that this is by far
the best volume yet published on the subject, and it must
succeed on account of its own worth, as no man who has to
speak or read in public should be without a copy.—Wilts
Advertiser, March 26, 1870.
Mr Plumptre will be known to most of our readers as a very
scientific and successful Teacher of Elocution ; and in this
volume he has put forth the substance of the course of Lectures
that he delivers at King’s College, with such alterations and
additions as may meet the wants of those who are unable to
avail themselves of oral instruction. It is unnecessary to
enlarge upon the advantage of obtaining complete command
of all the powers of the voice, or to point out how very much
a good manner of delivery may promote the success of a
medical practitioner. These considerations are obvious ; and
if they stood alone we should hardly have thought the lectures
within our province as reviewers. We find, however, that Mr
Plumptre enters at length, and with much ability, into the
curative treatment of impediments of speech. We have
perused this portion of the treatise with great care, and have
much pleasure in bearing testimony to its great merit. The
views advanced rest upon sound physiology, and the practice
advocated is in complete accordance with them. Mr Plumptre
states, and our experience enables us to confirm his opinion,
that all cases of stammering and stuttering are curable, if only
the patient will exercise a certain degree of care and perse
verance. It is common for medical practitioners to be consulted
�VI
Advertisements.
about such impediments; and we feel sure that in Mr
Plumptre’s Lectures they will find not only much valuable
practical information, but also a basis of sound principles, upon
which the details of treatment may be founded. We recom
mend thebookverywarmlytoour readers.—Lancet, February
12, 1870.
Professor Plumptre, who is so well known for his elocution
ary powers, has just published a volume of fourteen of his
Lectures on Elocution, delivered some time since at King’s Col
lege, London. The book is a handsome volume of more than
200 pages, and is dedicated to the Prince of Wales. A more
entertaining work it would be difficult to find, and it is one
which we cordially recommend to the student of divinity, the
barrister, the debater ; in a word, to all who desire to cultivate
the faculty of speech, and to be able to express their ideas
with clearness, force, and elegance.—Irish Gazette, March
19, 1870.
This is a book from which we will not quote, but instead
heartily commend, and advise all our readers to purchase and
study it for themselves.—Victoria Magazine, May, 1870.
&c., &c., &c.
C. W. REYNELL, PRINTER, LITTLE PVLTENEY STREET, HAYMARKET, W,
�
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The religion and morality of Shakespeare's works : being a lecture delivered before the Sunday Lecture Society, the 16th of November, 1873
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Place of publication: London
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Notes: Part of the NSS pamphlet collection. Advertisements for works by Plumptre, lecturer in public reading and speaking at King's College, London, on six pages at the end.
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Text
THE
QUESTION OF METHOD
’AS affecting
RELIGIOUS THOU.GHT.
BY
A CLERGYMAN
of the
CHURCH
of
ENGLAND.
OiiK alcrxpbv
3i?ra ret
\eyeiv ;
Owe, et rb trcodrivai ye rb tyevtios ipepei.
To speak untruly—dost not think it shame ?
Not when we fare the better for the same.
Sophocles Philoctetes.
f
PUBLISHED BY 'THOMAS SCOTT,
NO. II THE TERRACE, FARQUHAR ROAD, UPPER NORWOOD,
LONDON, S.E. '
1873.
Price Threepence.
��THE QUESTION OF METHOD
AS AFFECTING
RELIGIOUS THOUGHT.
HENCE comes the possibility of that strange
fact,—strange indeed, yet in the present day
by no means unfrequent,—that men having like
opportunities and abilities come to utterly diverse
conclusions on religious subjects? You may note,
say for example, two brothers, each possessed of un
usual talents, starting from the same early training,
each animated by a pure zeal for truth, one of whom,
through whatever wanderings, holds fast at least by
the great doctrines of Christianity, while the other
leaves all orthodox belief far behind him. For—
wonder at the fact if you will—we are constrained
to admit that men do doubt and disbelieve every
Christian dogma, who, whatever judgment may here
after be passed upon them, live, so far as human eye
can see, not less pure or upright lives than the most
strenuous upholders of the faith. How can these
things be ? How can two men, both sane and
sound, affirm of the same fountain, the one that its
waters are sweet, the other that they are bitter ?
Christianity is true or it is false. That is to say,
those occurrences on which all orthodox bodies
■ found their religion have historically happened
or they have not. The issue is a simple one, and one
W
�4
The Question of Method
might suppose that honest men who wished for
nothing but the truth would have little difficulty in
arriving at a similar conclusion one way or other.
Yet we find that men apparently possessed of honesty,
ability and learning, hold contrary opinions on the
subject. The object of the present paper is to point
out the broad beaten road which leads to orthodoxy,
and also the narrow thorny path which ends in un
belief.
Now if in studying the same subject inquirers
arrive at opposite conclusions, either they must start
from different premises, or they must adopt a different
method of inquiry. Obviously, starting from different
premises is a fruitful source of difference in religious
as in other matters. Thus in disputes between a
Christian and an unbeliever the former will often
base his arguments upon biblical texts, forgetting that
the other will by no means accept them as conclusive.
The one starts from the premiss that the Bible affords
an infallible source of information, the truth of which
the other denies. Such an argument often ends in
mere bitterness, as the parties do not see that there is
no common ground between them on which the argu
ment may rest. Or if they consent to go deeper, and
discuss the proposition which to one side formed
the premiss of the previous argument, yet again they
fail to find common ground, and therefore to appear
reasonable to each other. Now the source of the
difference must surely be this, that they approach the
subject in a different spirit: each adopts a different
method of inquiry. I believe the most common
method used by the orthodox party is that of assuming
some one point,—as the authority of the Church, or
of the Bible,—and then arguing from that. This
method, however, labours under the disadvantage
mentioned above. However satisfactory it may be
to the individual who accepts it, it cannot enable him
to convince unbelievers. Such a method may even to
�as Affecting Religious Thought.
5
some extent be open to the charge brought against it
by uncivil persons of being a petitio principii.
To those who endeavour to go to the root of the
Blatter, there are, as far as I can see, but two methods
which they can use as instruments of thought, between
which they must take their choice. I shall call these
the emotional method and the critical method.
These may be briefly characterised as follows :
The former method accepts an explanation simply
as satisfactory to the mind: it does not seek to compars or test further: it rests on intimate conviction.
The critical method, on the contrary, mistrusts every
hypothesis until verified ; if an explanation seem pro
bable in itself, it is not allowed to rest there: it is
brought face to face with other facts and theories, and
questioned as to its agreement with them; it is, in
short, tested in every conceivable way, and not
accepted unless it can endure the trial. The critical
method is based on verification.
I shall now endeavour to show that while the latter
method has its value—perhaps is the only one of any
value—in scientific inquiries, the emotional method
alone can lead to orthodox results in religious inves
tigations.
In ancient times the critical method was almost or
quite unknown. Whatever men wished to explain,
from the genesis of the earth and the human race
to the derivation of a word, was explained out of
hand, and evolved with child-like confidence out of
the mind of the explainer. When Pindar told of the
birth of Ajax (Aias), he derived the name from
aleros (aietos) an eagle. It was enough for him that
the first two letters corresponded in each word, and
that the explanation seemed to him a probable one.
When Eve bare her first-born she called his name
Cain, and said I have gotten (from the verb hanah,
to get) a man. There was a sufficient resemblance
between Kain and kanah ; although, according to the
�6
The Question of Method
critical method, Cain would seem to have been a
smith (pp) by name, although not in trade, and
Cain’s sons were smiths. These two examples will
suffice to show the principle on which names were
anciently derived. But a similar method was em
ployed in other and more important matters. In
order to illustrate this, perhaps the reader will allow
me to tell him a story out of Philo. An animal is
placed on the list of those allowed to be eaten in
Levit. xi. 22, which our translators, for some myste
rious reason, call “ beetle,” and which the Septuagint
version as unaccountably renders ophiomachus, ser
pent-fighter. Now Philo had already proved to his
satisfaction that the Serpent which tempted Eve was
pleasure. Therefore the reason why this ophioma
chus was recommended for the Jewish table was
plain. “For,” says he, “this ophiomachus seems to
me to be nothing else than temperance symbolically,
which wages endless war against intemperance and
pleasure.” I was charmed when I read this passage,
for nothing could more evidently set forth the advan
tages of the emotional method. See how beautifully
the old worthy works it out! The otpiopaxys, which
he lit on in his Septuagint, fitted into the theory he
was constructing, just like a long-sought, queer-cor
nered bit in a child’s puzzle-map. Then what “ uses,”
what edification, proceed from this interpretation ?
What earthly meaning could there be in bidding the
Hebrews eat a particular sort of locust ? But when
you understand how the locust represents asceticism,
what light and interest is shed on the Mosaic com
mand I And to think that Philo and we should have
lost all this had he only been cursed with the very
smallest tincture of the critical method ! Had he
had any notion of verifying his facts, he would have
compared the Septuagint with the Hebrew version,
and thus have found that the name of the creature in
the original language has nothing to do with ser-
�as Affecting Religious thought,
7
penis, but means simply a leap er (chargol), and so
his theory would have fallen to pieces at once. For
tunately he was secure in the strength of his method ;
the inward satisfaction which he felt was ample proof
of the correctness of his position ; and as the Septuagint version suited him, why should he go further to
seek another which might not suit so well ? It would
be easy to multiply instances of the use of the emo
tional method from the writings of authors of all
ages ; but I forbear to quote further from uninspired
writers. To do so would seem to be the more unne
cessary, inasmuch as this method, and no other, was
employed by the writers of the Books contained in
the New Testament.
If this be shown, it will be obvious that those who
wish to hold to the faith which those holy men pro
mulgated must walk in their steps and use their
method. If we attempt to use the critical method in
the exegesis of the Bible, we commence by placing
ourselves at a point of view utterly different from
that at which its authors contemplated their subject;
and shall therefore understand it in a sense alien
from theirs. It is by so doing that so many writers
and others, whose learning and honesty of purpose
are beyond all question, have changed that which
Christians hold to be the Word of God into a collec
tion of more or less curious myths. When the New
Testament writers found a passage of the Hebrew
Scriptures which seemed to them to bear upon the
life of Christ, they assumed at once that it was in its
origin prophetic of him. For example, Matthew re
members the words of Hosea, “ Out of Egypt have
I called my Son.” The critical inquirer remembers
that the prophet was alluding to the Exodus of
Israel. To the Evangelist it is sufficient that these
words, taken apart from their context, serve to illus
trate his narrative. So little did the Evangelists and
Apostles care for such accuracy as is required by the
�8
The Question of Method
critical method, that their quotations from the older
Scriptures are often distortions of the words and
meaning of the originals, at least as these latter have
come down to us. I am not now writing a treatise
on prophecy, and it will be sufficient to request the
reader who may doubt my assertion to compare the
quotations in the New Testament with the prophecies
themselves ; he will often be able to detect the distor
tion, even if he has no knowledge of the original lan
guages. I may observe here that what has been said
holds true of the doctrine of Types. What critical
inquirer could ever believe that the narratives of the
brazen serpent, of David, Jonah, &c., have any refer
ence to Christ ? These stories are complete in them
selves as they stand in the Old Testament, and do not
require any further fulfilment. He alone who proceeds
always on the emotional method can perceive that the
fact that an older narrative may profitably be em
ployed to illustrate the life of Christ, justifies the
assumption that it was intended to do so. So im
pressed, however, were the Apostolic writers with
the truth of this doctrine, that they seemed to have
considered the Hebrew Scriptures as of little impor
tance for any other purpose. Thus Paul cares only
for the story of Isaac and Ishmael in so far as they
typify the Christian and Jewish churches, and for
that of the passage of the Red Sea as exemplifying
the doctrine of Baptism. When he reads the words,
“To Abraham and his seed were the promises made,”
he does not understand “ seed ” to refer to the de
scendants of the patriarch, as any critical student
would, but he insists upon applying it to Christ.
Indeed Paul is perhaps the most consistent of all the
New Testament writers in his exclusion of the critical
spirit. So much so, that he rests entirely on his
emotional convictions. He is far indeed from com
paring critically the accounts of the Resurrection.
He will not confer with flesh and blood. He rejects
�as Affecting Religious ’Thought.
9
all knowledge of Christ “ after the flesh his inner
belief, apart from all comparison with the convictions
of others, or verification from external facts, is suffi
cient for him.
It is impossible within the limits of the present
paper to do more than illustrate the position here
taken up by a few examples. But I feel no doubt
that any candid person who will consider those here
brought forward, and himself search the Scriptures
for others, will be convinced that the writers of the
books composing our Bible had not the very slightest
idea of the critical method, and would, could they
have understood it, have condemned it as unsuited to
their purposes. If this be so, let those who would
continue to think as the evangelists and prophets
thought, beware how they tamper with a method so
alien from their spirit.
At the risk of being tedious I must adduce another
example of the danger of deserting the emotional
method. Many such suggest themselves ; indeed the
adoption of the opposite method breaks up the Bible
in all directions, and leaves, in place of one homoge
neous infallible book, a collection of tales, most of
them of little historical value. I cannot, however, go
into this subject any further at present. The one
instance which follows may be sufficient to serve as a
caution to those who wish to stand in the paths of
orthodoxy in these slippery days.
The apparent contradictions in the Gospel narra
tives have driven our orthodox commentators into
great straits, except when they have got over a diffi
culty by omitting to notice it. They would, however,
find no difficulty at all if they had sufficient faith in
the emotional method, and forebore the attempt to
wield the weapons of their adversaries.
They need not fear lest they should fail to be secure
against doubts and disputations if they will be care
ful to avoid the critical method. When the critical
�io
The Question of Method
inquirer compares the different narratives of the life
of Christ, he finds, among other points of a similar
nature, that Jesus is said to have ascended to heaven
both from Bethany and also from a mountain in Galilee.
According to Matthew,—who is so far confirmed by
the narrative which closes the second Gospel as we
have it,—the disciples met the risen Christ by ap-.
pointment in Galilee. There Mark further informs
us that the Ascension took place, they having first
been charged to go at once (as it appears) and
teach all nations. In Luke, on the contrary, the
Eleven do not quit the immediate neighbourhood of
Jerusalem; nay, they are expressly charged not to do
so until they should be “ endued with power from on
high.” This account agrees with that given in Acts,
while John does not mention the Ascension at all.
Here we see plainly the effect of the comparing or
critical method. To one who adopts it, it seems im
possible that the disciples could both have remained
at Jerusalem for a considerable time, and also during
part of that very time have been in Galilee ; nor less
so that one and the same Ascension should have
taken place at Bethany and on a far distant moun
tain. The emotionalist, on the other hand, feels no
difficulty. To compare the different and differing
accounts in a critical spirit would be foreign to his
nature. Each several account satisfies and edifies
him, and he cares for nothing more. Should such an
one be pressed to the point by an unbeliever, he might
reply that the sojourn of the disciples at Jerusalem is
to be understood in a spiritual sense. They were
commanded to tarry at Jerusalem, that is, not to
break with the Jews and Jewish customs, until the
descent of the Holy Ghost. Eor the double site
assigned to the Ascension I have indeed no explana
tion to suggest; yet I am confident that the holy
ingenuity of a second Philo—who would care nothing
for historic truth and everything for spiritual edifica-
�as Affecting Religious 'Thought.
11
cation—would explain this also as triumphantly as
the first turned the leaping locust into a slayer of
allegorical serpents.
If the reader has done me the honour to follow my
arguments up to this point, it is ten chances to one
that he feels somewhat disposed to quarrel with my
position.
It is likely enough that he will ask whether the
critical method be not that by which all scientific
discoveries have been made, and all our knowledge of
historic truth obtained ; whether, if that be so, it be
not the right method to use in that inquiry which is
of all others most important; and whether in fact
many eminent writers on religious subjects have not
used that method and no other. To the last question
I reply, that I am not acquainted with the works of
any theologian who has successfully used the critical
method and at the same time kept within the confines
of orthodoxy; nor can I conceive it possible that
there should be such. There are, indeed, orthodox
writers who use with more or less success the critical
method throughout the bulk of their work; but, so
far as I know, they always start with one or more
assumptions which are arrived at by the emotional,
not the critical method. They assume the authority
of the Bible or of the Church ; the necessity of a
Divine revelation, and of its miraculous character;
the authenticity of the sacred writings on which they
rely; and other such points. Having made these
assumptions, or some of them, they may proceed to
deduce their conclusions from them by the critical
method. But the propositions on which their whole
subsequent reasoning is based are assumed, not as
critically demonstrated, but as appearing natural and
necessary to the mind of the writer. The super
structure may be critical, but the foundation is
emotional; and it is from the latter, not the former,
that the entire work must take its distinguishino1
character.
°
�12
The Question of Method
With regard to the other question, viz., whether
the critical method be not the better, and therefore
the right one to employ, it should be considered that
either method is an instrument for aiding us to attain
certain ends. We must choose the one best fitted for
our purpose. The critical method is an admirable
instrument for enabling us to ascertain truth of fact.
If we wish to acquaint ourselves with the probability
of a reported occurrence having really taken place or
otherwise, with no care whether we are led to the
affirmative or the negative conclusion, the critical
method will serve our turn. But—I am addressing
myself to those who are predetermined to preserve
their orthodox faith—is this desired ? The critical
method is very exacting. If we adopt it we must
take nothing for granted : we must not say I will
believe this because it satisfies my emotional needs ;
or because it is so conducive to public morality and
the peace of the individual mind. This method
binds us to the pursuit of truth pure and simple, un
influenced by any preconceived wish as to the result.
The emotional method, on the contrary, allows a man’s
feelings to determine his belief. If we adopt it we
shall never need to trouble ourselves with disagreeable
questions, such as, Do we know when and by whom
the Gospels were written ? Do they or do they not
contain numerous contradictory statements ? Are the
accounts therein given of the doings and sayings of
Christ in all cases to be relied upon as matters of
historical certainty ? and the like. These and many
such beset the path of the critical inquirer like im
portunate beggars, who will not be shaken off until
they have their answer. He whose first object is to
continue stedfast in his religious belief should refuse
altogether to enter upon such inquiries. To deal with
them candidly implies a wish to know the truth
rather than to continue orthodox ; and such a wish,
if acted on, is apt to be fatal to orthodoxy. The
�Affecting Religious Thought.
13
importance of inquiry after truth in religious matters
Bas been much overstated. An orthodox believer
should never inquire after truth ; he should assume
that he has it. The word truth is indeed occasionally
used in the Bible, yet always in a sense widely
different from that in which it is used by the modern
critic. Thus the Apostle says : “ We can do nothing
against the truth, but for the truthbut by truth he
means his own system of religious belief, the truth of
which he assumes, and which indeed is the only truth
for which he cares. So, again, Christians are bidden
searc i the Scriptures.” ' But it is implied, as I
have attempted to show, that they are to use a method
of search,—a mode of interpretation,—which certainly
would not lead to such truth as is sought by the man
©f science or modern historian.
I say again, let your wish to know truth always
stand second to your desire to continue orthodox;
otherwise there is much danger that your truth will
not be that of the Church or of the Bible. Should
any one say in reply to this : “ What is orthodoxy to
me ? I desire to know whether or not the religion I
have been taught to profess be really founded on fact.
If it be so, it will stand the severest testing by the
most rigorous method ; if not, I will none of it: ” to
such an one the arguments used in this paper are not
addressed. Let him go on his way, if he is sure he
has strength to follow it out: taking however this
warning with him. I have known those who have
acted as he proposes to act; who, starting with a more
or less orthodox belief, have insisted on subjecting it
to the critical method without fear or favour. The
consequence has been that they have found them
selves in the end stripped of most of those garments
with which their earliest instructors had invested
their minds, and, in some cases, with their worldly
prospects blasted. Let him then count the cost first,
lest having begun he should not dare to finish.
�The Question of Method, &e.
I turn for a concluding word to those who prize
their religious faith above all things : who know that
it brings them peace, comfort, and worldly prosperity;
and are not to be ousted from these solid advantages
by a sneer about honesty. Let such be careful to
abide by the emotional method, to take the satisfaction
which religion and religious books bring to their
minds as the surest—the only—basis of their belief.
The men of science have with their critical method
“ turned the world upside down ” as effectually as did
the Apostles of old. Beware then how you allow
yourselves to inquire on their method into the truth
of sacred narratives. Consider that faith is not as
robust as it was ; it now needs hot-house treatment:
it must be glazed, and warmed artificially, and kept
from rude scientific contact. Guard it from critical
thought as you do your exotic plants from frost.
Consider, a few degrees of cold will consign it to a
grave from which no coming spring can summon it
to resurrection.
�
Dublin Core
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Title
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Victorian Blogging
Description
An account of the resource
A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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Conway Hall Library & Archives
Date
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2018
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
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The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
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The question of method as affecting religious thought
Description
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Place of publication: London
Collation: 14 p. ; 18 cm.
Notes: "By a Clergyman of the Church of England". From the library of Dr Moncure Conway.
Publisher
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Thomas Scott
Date
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1873
Identifier
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CT114
Subject
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Bible
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[Unknown]
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<a href="http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /></a><span> </span><br /><span>This work (The question of method as affecting religious thought), identified by </span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk"><span>Humanist Library and Archives</span></a><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span>
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application/pdf
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Text
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English
Bible-Criticism and Interpretation
Conway Tracts
Religious Thought
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Text
CT I " C'T 2 b
��THE PUBLICATION
OF
THE NEW KORAN.
A FEW WORDS FROM THE AUTHOR.
In the autumn of 1861,1 published a didactic poem, in Scriptural
style and arrangement, called the New Koran.
It was my
original intention to carry out the whole edition to Constanti
nople, and distribute it among the English and American
residents there, with the view of making it the banner of an
ambitious reformation movement. Finally, on getting it through
the press, circumstances compelled me to relinquish this plan,
and risk its publication in London, where it sold badly, and even
so far as it did sell, failed altogether to kindle any enthusiasm,
or lead to any organic action among religious reformers. Last
summer, when I had neither seen nor heard anything of the
book for a year and a-half, it was brought under the notice of
the Rev. C. Voysey, by one of the members of his congregation
at St. George’s Hall. No person who had hitherto read it could
so well understand and appreciate its aim: the story of the
Jewish reformer (Jaido Morata), struggling with difficulties, con
tending against superstitions, gathering followers from all sects,
and carrying on the same catholic and cosmopolitan work in Pales
tine which he was himself endeavouring to accomplish in London,
naturally afforded him the highest interest and pleasure, not
withstanding minor differences of doctrine appearing in a few of
the chapters, and it is through calling attention to it in some of
his sermons that it has recently sold well, and the whole of the
copies being at length disposed of, inquiries are now made for
a new edition.
So far as the literary part of the task goes, there will be no
difficulty in supplying a second edition, since I have already
carefully revised the book and added to it several important
�2
chapters. In order, however, that no prospective reader may
be disappointed as to the nature and extent of the alterations
which have been made, it may be well here briefly to specify
them. The first edition, having for its secondary title, “ TextBook of Turkish Reformers,” was intended for export to the East;
the second, in which Turkish affairs will hold a more subordi
nate place, is intended for home consumption. The former was
issued with the aim of its becoming a veritable Bible in the
midst of a small colony; the latter, if it appears, will only be
expected to take the rank of a religious poem, such as that of
the Pilgrim’s Progress, among the reformers of a great
nation. So far, and with respect to certain doctrinal corrections
and developments which friendly criticism, a riper experience,
and further research after truth have enabled me to make, most
people who have seen the old edition will probably like the new
better. It must not, however, be supposed that in any of the
alterations and adaptations which have been made in the book,
I have sacrificed my convictions and pandered to popular passion
and class prejudice, like the editor of a newspaper, in order to
increase the number of my readers. Several people have
objected to the New Koran for no other reason than because
it is many-sided, and they would greatly prefer it to be one
sided. Those, who contend that it has not done justice to
Christianity, would, probably, be as little disposed as the old
Crusaders to render justice to the long-persecuted Jews.
Christianity is too high seated and domineering to be in danger
of suffering wrong from anything which is said in my book; it
is not the flourishing cause, with many friends, but the cause
which is down and kicked, and has but very few friends, that is
always in danger of suffering injustice. Journalists are for the
most part nothing better than literary advocates, engaged to
take the side of their clients through thick and thin, and daring
not to assume the position of a judge, because impartiality will
not pay. Let a paper be started as the one-eyed mouth-piece of
some trade, interest, class, party, or sect, and it will not want
subscribers; but if it attempts to speak honestly and fairly in
behalf of all people, as God himself would speak, it will get the
support of none. Authors, as well as journalists, must be partial
if they intend to please a partial selfish community; but this is
what I never set out to do when I commenced to write the
New Koran, neither have I had any such aim in revising it;
I shall continue in the second edition, as in the first, to be true
�3
to my view, and say just what I see, without fear and without
flattery, whether in the presence of King Christ, or King Caste,
or King Mob.
It must thus, I think, be evident that if a second edition of my
book should be actually published, notwithstanding the advan
tages which it will have over the preceding one, it cannot, from
the very nature of its teaching, and the host of prejudices arrayed
against it, be expected to command a very ready and brisk sale.
And this brings me to the consideration of another point, namely,
the cost of printing and publishing a Second Thousand copies
of the work, and the price at which they can be reasonably
offered to the public, with the view of nearly defraying that
cost. It is a well-known axiom of commercial economy, that
just in proportion as the demand for any article of consumption
is small, the cost of its distribution will be great. The keeper of
a clothing or furniture shop may do very well with a profit of
from ten to twenty per cent, on the selling price of his goods,
but a publisher of books must have fifty per cent., and even at
this high charge, if he has a good business, he will not care to
encumber his shelves 'with literature of an unpopular character,
and in little request. And consequently some heterodox books,
among others, which respectable publishers refuse, are generally
taken in hand by a class of adventurers, whose honesty and
solvency are not to be depended on, and their authors thereby
have frequently to make still heavier sacrifices in endeavouring
to get them into the hands of the public. Let me here briefly
place before my prospective readers the extent of the losses
which I have had to bear on the first edition of the New
Koran.
The printing of the book, by Messrs. Saville and Edwards,
came to £141 15s. 67. Manwaring, the first publisher, estimated
the binding of the Thousand at from £20 to £24, making the
whole cost of production about 3s. 3d. per copy; and in order
that the sale, if successful, should pretty nearly defray this cost,
with that of advertising, he fixed the price at 7s. 6d. In a few
months’ time, when only eleven copies had been sold, he became
bankrupt, and so far from having anything to receive from his
assignees, I had a very crooked bill of £31 11 s. 6d. to pay for ad
vertising, andforbinding250 copies, &c., making,with the printers’
bill, my total expenditure by the summer of 1862, £173 7s., a
sum of no small consideration to me, as the whole had been
saved out of earnings which hardly amounted to £1 a week.
�4
The unsold stock, being refused by Triibner and other publishers,
was at length taken by a poor publishing company in Fleet
street, who agreed to offer it at the reduced price of 5s. per copy,
and out of this give me one-half. Soon after, at my direction,
fifty bound copies were transferred by the company to the hands
of a third publisher, to be sold on the same terms, and I found
this man exceptionally honest; he disposed of about twenty-five
copies in the course of a year, and gave me half the sale price,
as agreed on; and as there was nothing to pay for advertising,
the small sum I received from him was an actual return. He
told me, however, that the business of selling heterodox books
had been to him a very unremunerative one, and gave it up at
the end of 1863, transferring what copies remained of the New
Koran, with his other unsold stock, to an adventure publisher,
with small means, then newly established in a neighbouring
street. Hearing a very fair account of this man, and a bad
account of the publishing company, I directed them to transfer
the whole of their unsold New Koran stock to him early in
1864, which they at length did reluctantly, after they had been
threatened with legal force. They proved, however, in the end,
more honest than I had been led to expect; they fairly accounted
to me, as the retiring publisher had done, for all that they had
sold—nearly twenty copies, and the whole return from both
these parties came to about £5, and not a farthing have I
received since. Even this small sum, which came to me from
the sale of the book, was soon more than swallowed up in further
expenses attending it, namely, the cost of binding a second 250
copies, and the printing of 2,000 descriptive handbills, to assist
the fourth publisher in getting it into circulation. This man agreed
to sell the book at the further reduced price of 2s. 6cl. a copy,
and divide the proceeds with me; but his notions of equity not
being satisfied with the fifty per cent, allowed him for selling, he
made up his mind to keep all. Moreover, he not only withheld
from me what money was due on the sale of the book, but the
sympathy and moral encouragement of a number of readers, by
refusing to give them my address, under the pretence that he
had never had or known it; thus, evidently hoping that I, living’
far away in the country, and hearing nothing of my literary
enterprise, should in time forget all about it, and be myself
forgotten, just as every kidnapper endeavours to cut off all com
munication and draw a curtain of obliviousness between parent
and child, the better to accomplish his nefarious design. When
�5
Mr. Voysey, with considerable difficulty, discovered my address
in August, 1872, he could get no information through the pub
lisher, either of my whereabouts or existence; and had there
been no other means of tracing me out, I might have been to this
moment regarded as a myth. A few friends, who knew that I
had been shamefully defrauded, advised me to seek redress
before a court of justice, and I took the requisite preliminary
steps to do so; but on learning that there was a possibility, or
rather a probability, of the suit costing more than the debt was
worth, I felt that offering justice to a poor man by way of our
expensive and uncertain law administration was a sham, and
that I had better remain content with my present wrong than
run the risk of aggravating it with further mockery and dis
appointment.
I now wish to direct the attention of my readers to something
far better than the punishment of roguery, and that is, the
effecting, by a more economical system of trade, its prevention.
My esteemed friend, William Ellis, from whom I have learnt
much, and always differ with reluctance, has, among his other
valuable contributions to the elucidation of social science
from a commercial view-point, written an able little tract to
prove, against the co-operators, the advantages which society
derives from competition. In the recent revision of my book I
have endeavoured to present the reverse side of the picture, and
show that unregulated competition is a great evil to society, very
nearly approaching that of civil war. Wherever we see industry
effectively organised, there is true economy; no farmer, builder,
or manufacturer would think of putting two men to do the
labour of one ; but where ignorant people set themselves to work
with no other guidance but blind inclination, and the ill-under
stood law of supply and demand, there is a great deal of carrying
coals to Newcastle, and the business of one person may often be
seen divided among three. Many ill-trained human beings (of
whom the Jews, Greeks, Armenians, and Yankees are notable
examples) have a great dislike to earning their bread slowly and
surely by any kind of productive industry, and prefer embarking
in the adventures of commerce, and consequently all our cities
are overcrowded with traders; there are far more people engaged
in the distribution of wealth than are really needed by the
exigencies of society. One necessary result of this overcrowding
and immense waste of power among distributors is, that their
operations are thereby rendered very costly ; they want a much
�6
larger percentage of profits, on sales effected, to enable them to
live, than would be required if the whole business of distribu
tion were regulated and conducted with strict economy. Another
consequence is, that the weaker tradesmen, in order to maintain
their ground in the face of stronger rivals, are driven to all sorts
of fraudulent practices, such as adulteration, colouring, false
measuring, swindling, and embezzlement; indeed, thousands of
needy adventurers who go unprepared into the fierce arena of
competition, soon find themselves in such straits, that they are
just as much necessitated to choose between fraud and bank
ruptcy as the City Arab is often compelled to choose between
theft and starvation. What we really ought to do, then, is to
discourage rash speculation, to check unwise competition, to
prevent, as much as possible, two rivals from wasting their
energies in contending for a sphere of labour which only affords
occupation for one. In some instances, where large interests
are concerned, the duty of restraining wanton and dishonest
competitors is already effected by the Government. Hundreds
of railways are projected by scheming adventurers, where they
are not really needed, and there is no reasonable prospect of
their being remunerative ; but any such line will serve the pur
pose of the schemers if it can only allure shareholders for its
construction, or be worked in such a way as to annoy some other
company, and force it to buy up the annoyance. The Govern
ment, therefore, though sometimes imposed upon, generally
refuses to sanction such ill-planned enterprises; it agrees to
protect the really useful companies from injurious competition,
on the condition that the public shall receive from them liberal
treatment, and fairly share their advantages. The same legis
lative restraint, which prevents railways, board schools, and
post-offices from cutting each other’s throats, might justly be
extended to ordinary shops; the Government, for instance, might
very reasonably refuse to allow any person to start a publishing
business in London, until he should first show that he had got
a sufficient capital for the undertaking, and the promise of a
certain number of commissions, as a fair guarantee for his
honesty and success. By this regulation, a host of needy and
unscrupulous adventurers would be kept out of the trade, and
compelled to earn their living as printers, shopmen, and clerks,
or to emigrate ; while the Government, in return for protecting
and economising the labour of genuine publishers, might require
them, as they could well afford, to distribute books at reduced
�7
charges. But such a vast extension of Board-of-Trade inter
ference in behalf of the public, though perfectly legitimate .and
reasonable, is, at the present day, very far from practicable, and
people, who suffer for the want of it, must seek a remedy at their
own hands; the business of distribution, as now wastefully
conducted by the shop-keeping world, can only be gradually
economised and reformed by establishing co-operative societies.
Co-operative publishing has been successfully carried on for a
very long period by a number of societies in connection with
the Church of England, and we heterodox people, who are
endeavouring to organise a church outside the pale of
Christianity, may with good profit study their example. See
how well, for instance, the Religious Tract Society has been
made to work for the diffusion of religious knowledge of the
Evangelical pattern, among the poorer population of this coun
try. Some Cumberland curate, or Cornish schoolmaster, or
Methodist preacher in Kent, writes an instructive tale, which
he has no means of publishing at his own expense, or, even if
he can accomplish this end, will not be able to sell more than
fifty copies ; but he sends it to the Repository, Paternoster Row,
it goes before the Committee, is approved and published, and in
less than half-a-dozen years will be read in almost every town
and village of the kingdom. The books and tracts, which the
Society thus puts into the hands of the people, are not only
cheaper, but better, than those of the same class which are ordi
narily distributed by private houses; for the labour of their
publication is strictly economised, and they are selected by an
impartial and competent literary tribunal, who are resolved that
the shelves of the Repository shall not be encumbered with
trash. The Jews and Unitarians have each a similar co-operative
society for the diffusion of the select and standard literature
of their respective faiths; and to show that we constructive
Theists, Theofederans, or whatever, we are called, have very
great need of such an organisation for the dissemination of our
views, it will suffice to state some of the difficulties which I had
to encounter, years ago, both in seeking light, and imparting it
to others.
It was my lot to be born behind the plough, and to labour in
the fields from the age of eleven to twenty-five as a farm
servant, and, had it not been for the National Society establish
ing a school in the neighbouring parish, and the Christian
Knowledge Society publishing the Saturday Magazine, which my
�self-taught father regularly purchased, I should probably have
remained, at the present day, an almost illiterate clown. I owe
an especial debt of gratitude to the charming little illustrated
periodical of 1832-44 ; the variety of useful information, which
I acquired from it, set me craving for more, and, having no
educated friends to assist me, I left my home clandestinely at
the age of sixteen and started off to London for the purpose of
consulting the editor as to how and where I could obtain better
means of self-culture. On arriving at the publisher’s office in
West Strand, my rustic garb and singular errand occasioned
some surprise, but I was kindly told that “ the editor was not
to be seen,” and advised to apply to the London Mechanics’
Institute, Southampton Buildings. I went thither, but, possess
ing only two shillings and being without employment, found its
advantages inaccessible to me, and thenceforth began to wander
about London for a fortnight, visiting coffee-house libraries, pick
ing up information from book-stalls, and sleeping in a suburban
stable, till hunger compelled me to return to my native fields.
The rich intellectual feast which I gathered from studying in
the streets so amply compensated for all my physical privations,
that I was tempted in the following year to repeat my runaway
adventure, when I acquired much enlargement of mind, not only
from books, but from visiting a Catholic chapel, a Jews’ syna
gogue, and the British Museum. Such a spirit of inquiry and
reflection was now awakened within me that at the age of
eighteen I completely shook off the trammels of the orthodox
creed and began to take up the position of a religious reformer.
Early in 1849, I again tramped up to London to gather more
light, and being now much better provided, having for the first
time the sum of £3 15s. in my pocket, I determined to purchase
a good selection of what Emerson would perhaps call Repre
sentative Books, to study at my leisure in the country. I
obtained from the stalls, in the first place, Josephus, the Koran
of Mohammed, and the Dictionary of Voltaire ; and afterwards
picked out and added to my literary wallet, the Apology of
Grotius, Butler’s Analogy, and Paley’s Evidences. I greatly
admired Paley’s calm philosophical spirit and masterly special
pleading, while perceiving the unsoundness of his reasoning at
every step, and imagined that there must surely exist the work
of some modern scholar who had refuted him. So indeed there
did (Jlennell’s Inquiry, at the shop of T. Allman, Holborn), but,
such is our present defective system of distributing the light of
�9
advanced thought, that I was quite unable to find it out. A
much better known heterodox publisher, James Watson, of
Queen’s Head Passage, I discovered with little difficulty, and
asked him to show me the very best modern works which his
shop contained, and above all a good refutation of Paley. He
laid several books before me, with the merits of which I was by
no means prepossessed, yet purchased five from his recommenda
tion and they all disappointed me, especially Taylor’s Diegesis,
in which the most extravagant of mythical theories was advo
cated with a sad mixture of ribaldry and rant. Having
■exhausted my funds, and being unable to make further research,
I returned with my pack of theological books to the country,
and, under the impression that the learned champions of
Christian orthodoxy had never been effectually answered, set
about in leisure hours to controvert their arguments myself. In
the course of a year and a-half I had written with this view a
treatise of considerable length, and in the summer of 1850 again
left my plough and went to London for the double purpose of
getting it published there, and obtaining some new sphere of
■employment. I succeeded in neither object: no London pub/ lisher could be induced even to read my rough manuscript, much
less risk the expense of its publication. Just as I was about
to return in despair to my native parish, I happened, by the
merest chance, to see in the heretical Leader, but recently started
by G. Lewes, a notice of Professor Newman’s new work, Phases
of Faith, which was then causing some excitement in religious
circles. Had I seen it noticed by any orthodox reviewers, these
defenders of Christian miracles are such genuine spiritual
descendants of the old miracle workers, they go to such lengths
in pious frauds to keep up the original illusion, and their skill
in sham-sampling and misrepresentation is so great, that I
should probably have been led to imagine it a lame and despic
able production unworthy of being sought after as a gift. But
the new journal of free thought did justice to the book, and I
was so charmed by the powerful reasoning and high moral tone
■of one or two extracts from it, that I hastened to the publisher,
obtained the author’s address, and immediately wrote to him
expressing the pleasure which I experienced from meeting
unexpectedly an abler controversialist in the same field of refor
mation in which I was labouring myself. Professor Newman,
on receiving this letter, directly came to visit me at my humble
lodging, and after some friendly conversation on my special
�10
views and aims, agreed to take a portion of my manuscript
home with him and give me his candid opinion of it. In
a few days it was returned to me with an accompanying
critical letter, commenting on the weak and strong points of
my treatise, and disapproving of my attempts to connect the
early Christians with the Essenes, and reconstruct the
Gospel story* in a manner similar to that of Charles Hennell,
* It may be well to say here, in reference to a portion of my prepared Second
Edition, that Professor Newman classed my dramatic theory of explaining the
Gospels with those which are called by German scholars Rationalistic, and
declared his own preference for the Mythical Theory of Strauss. From what
he said, I was led on the first opportunity to study very carefully the writings
of Strauss, R. W. Mackay, Niebuhr, and Grote, together with his own Hebrew
Monarchy and Regal Rome, and my opinions were in consequence consider
ably modified with respect to the general credibility of ancient records, but in
the main I was still forced to cling to my original view, and consequently re
stated it in the New Koran. Within the last ten years I have found the
hypothesis set forth in Questions xxxviii.—xliv., strongly confirmed by further
historical research, and have developed it in another work, and in a series of
articles contributed to the Jewish Chronicle. What I maintain is simply
this :—
I. That it is useless to insist on the late origin of our present Gospels as an
evidence of their being unauthentic, because even if they were all written in the
second century, it is no proof that they were not derived from earlier contempo
rary records. Several minor contradictions by no means convict the writers of
myth-making, but only furnish a clear proof of their fallibility. So, too, the
fact of their adding some undoubted legendary matter, such as the prefatory
stories of Matthew and Luke, affords no better ground for rejecting their testi
mony in the mass, than for treating in a similar manner the Life of St. Bernard
or the Book of Maccabees.
II. That Christianity, if we rationally interpret the testimony of the Evange
lists, was from the very first of a composite character, originating from a small
religious confederacy, and not from the spontaneous action of one reformer of
extraordinary genius as Strauss, Renan and others have represented.
III. That Jesus resembled the monk Jetzer of Berne, rather than the founder
of the Dominican or Franciscan brotherhood, being evidently a poor Galilean
devotee, tutored by apparitions to act the part of a suffering Messiah, and
acquiring the whole of his mighty influence, not from his actual teaching and
labours, but from his supposed conquest of death.
IV. That the crucifixion of Jesus, like many child-crucifixions which were
turned against the poor Jews in the middle ages, was a masked drama got up to
excite strong feeling and move the multitude, while his Resurrection also was
as clearly dramatic as the annual Easter miracle exhibited in his pretended
sepulchre.
V. That the faith and enthusiasm which moved the peasant followers of
Jesus after his death, was started wholly by dramatic illusions, similar to that
miraculous performance before shepherds, which in our own times has established
the Confraternity of Our Lady of La Salette.
As I have not a greater love for my own opinion than for truth, I shall feel
thankful to any reader who still believes with Strauss, that Christianity arose
�11
who had thus exposed his otherwise unanswerable argument
to the attack of orthodox reviewers. “ Hennell’s Inquiry,” he
continued, “ is a very able, temperate, well written book, yet I
am told that it sells badly, and does not satisfy the publisher.” On
the strength of this disinterested and competent judgment I
bought the fine work of Henn ell with the first 12s. 6d. which
could be spared from my poor means, and only regretted that
I had not seen it earlier, when a number of greatly inferior
books were thrust into my hands. German scholars may well
express their surprise that Hennell, in his own country, the
country which produced Chubb, Collins, Toland, Tyndal,
Bolingbroke and Gibbon, should still continue to be so little
appreciated and comparatively unknown. Now that the poor
hubbub of a Government prosecution no longer serves to make
a lay heretic notorious in England, such is the general stupidity
and prejudice of our literary tribunals, and such is our want of
organised distribution that more than half the soldiers of the
Rationalist camp may be seen going forth to combat with old
rusty muskets, pitchforks, and clubs, when they might be all
furnished with arms of precision. Even the powerful attacks
on orthodoxy by Professor Newman, W. R. Greg, Lecky,
Matthew Arnold, Miss Cobbe, and a few other writers who have
acquired, apart from these works, a high literary reputation,
remain unread and unheard of by thousands of their country
people, who are struggling hard to free themselves from the
oppressive bonds of Christian superstition, and would greatly
rejoice at their aid. One gentleman, Thomas Scott, Esq., now of
Norwood, author of The English Life of Jesus, has been so
strongly impressed with the present imperfect means of publi
cation afforded to controversial writers of his class, that he has
formed, by his own individual efforts, a Society for the Diffusion
of Rational Knowledge. The many good things which he has
among the peasants of a superstitious thaumaturgic country without any appeal
to miracles, to point, as he has not done, to some other adequate power for pro
ducing the primitive Nazarene excitement, and also explain how it was that
dramatic wonder-working was so early and extensively resorted to in the
Christian Church as a legitimate means of kindling religious fervour, and has
continued to be so employed till discredited by the rise of the spirit of Ration
alism, when nothing similar can be pointed to in the history of the Mahometan
Church. We plain, honest truth-seekers, who are not writing for Christians,
have no need to care about conciliating their prejudices, or study to furnish
such an explanation of the Gospel narrative as shall give the least offence to
their absurd idolatry.
�12
"both written himself, and reprinted from other authors in behalf
of our New Reformation, if he were to depend on the ordinary
commercial channels of distribution afforded by London publish
ers would never be got into circulation, even by expending a
fortune. Therefore, rather than incur a heavy loss in this way,
to no good purpose, he has chosen to distribute his books and
pamphlets gratuitously through the post, among just those people
who are likely to appreciate them, and aid in effecting their fur
ther dissemination. Two years ago when I found him busily
engaged in his Repository, at Ramsgate, he told me that his mis
sion work was steadily increasing, and that the bread which he
had perseveringly cast on the waters was beginning to be found
again after many days. Lor awhile he was heavily burdened
with his benevolent enterprise, and could not count with cer
tainty on being able to continue it, but sympathising helpers
wrote to him one after another, till at length he had a good
number of regular subscribers, and friendly contributions and
correspondence were flowing in upon him from all parts of the
kingdom. In proportion as help came, his publishing, under
the most economical management of himself and wife, grew and
extended, and I see at the end of one of his recent pamphlets, a
well selected catalogue of upwards of a hundred modern hetero
dox works which vrould do credit to the Index Expurgatorius.
Those people, who object to Mr. Scott’s mission, as a mischievous
proselytising work, should bear in mind that it has never pro
voked any Belfast riots, or Indian mutinies, or Chinese insur
rections and massacres. It is not his plan to distribute his
publications indiscriminately in the parks, or thrust them into
the hands of the congregants at orthodox churches, or even
advertise them in orthodox journals, or offend the susceptibilities
of their editors by obtruding them under their notice. He has
wisely avoided stirring up angry passions and encountering the
blind hostility of Christian bigots, and has proceeded in a quiet,
judicious manner to diffuse a higher religious light among his
countrymen only just where it will receive a welcome, and be
productive of good. Perhaps, even Lord Shaftesbury and a few
other Exeter Hall magnates may derive a considerable amount
of spiritual benefit from this new missionary enterprise, however
much they may be disposed to condemn it; while they are mov
ing heaven and earth to convert other nations from idolatry, it
may prove a wholesome check to their intemperate zeal to know
that a band of philanthropic men are labouring, with equal
�13
earnestness, to deliver our own “land from error’s chain,” and
are regarding them as idolaters themselves. Those who now fre
quently procure Mr. Scott’s publications through the post,
esteem him not only as a religious reformer, but as a commercial
economist; “he has worked himself,” as a late Judge of the
High Court of Madras observes, “into a position of considerable
notoriety, and for years has been the centre of a wide circle of
readers and writers,” * and the success which has attended his
labours, proves the existence of a vast amount of co-operative
illuminating power in the world of free inquiry, which, if well
organised, would accomplish much greater results. I hope the
time is not far off when we shall see in this country a regularly
constituted League of Light, under the direction of an able
committee, and that authors who write to impart a higher
religious knowledge, and readers who seek it, may, with a little
more exertion, so contrive to stretch forth and join hands as to
avoid altogether the losses and disappointments which are now
occasioned by the intervention of those rascally “ Carry your
parcel, sir ? ” boys, the needy adventure publishers.
After the somewhat discursive explanation which I have found
it necessary to make, will those of my readers who desire to see
a second edition of the New Koran, be willing to co-operate
with me for the purpose of lessening the expense of its distri
bution ? My direct pecuniary loss on the first edition, is at the
very least £250 ; if I reckon four per cent, interest, which might
have been obtained from a safe investment of the money which
I expended in 1861-2 to produce no return. I know too well
that I cannot afford to lose another such sum, nor even half of
it, and should not expect to do so, even by the ordinary means
of publication, because the book has a decidedly better prospect
of selling now than at first, and would probably be accepted by
a respectable and honest publisher. But even in this case, it
could only be placed in the hands of the reader at such a price
as must tend in no small degree to limit and retard its circula
tion. As the second edition will contain about thirty new
chapters, the cost of production cannot, with the most rigid
economy, be estimated at less than four shillings per copy. To
defray this expense and satisfy the publisher, and pay for adver
tising, it could not be offered to the public for a less price than
ten shillings; but if a sufficient number of readers can be got to
order the book directly of me, or my friends, it shall be sent to
* T. Lumsden Strange, Esq.: “ The Christian Evidence Society,” p. 4.
�14
them through the post for five. “ ’Spoke-work is a deal better
than spec’-work,” a village cobbler, who was weary of serving
the town shops, once said in my hearing, and I am disposed to
say the same to my readers. It so happens, however, that since
the invention of printing, books can no longer be made singly
to order like boots, but must of necessity be produced in great
batches, and therefore a prudent scribe who wishes to work
economically, and avoid risk, should receive a large number of
orders before he can feel warranted in going to the press. It
will not be safe for me to venture on printing a second thousand
copies of the New Koran, and offering them at the price named,
till I can be assured of effecting an immediate sale of one half.
I may have to wait several years to obtain this guarantee
against a heavy loss, and it may never be obtained, but a very
bitter experience determines me not to spend another penny on
publishing my hitherto burdensome book without it.
Even if 500 copies of the second edition should be ordered,
as I cannot afford to advertise, I must ask for the further
co-operation of my readers to aid me with their recommenda
tions in selling the rest. Nearly the whole of the first edition
was got into circulation by such means, after advertising had
proved an entire failure. One person, who had read and appre
ciated the book, presented it to a friend, or induced a neighbour
of kindred spirit to purchase it, who, in turn, spoke favourably
of it to some one else, till it at length reached the hands of an
eloquent religious reformer, who has well fulfilled the duty of
passing on to others every lamp of light which he receives, and
he speedily diffused it among hundreds. Some judgment and
discrimination must, of course, be used in introducing a book of
this kind to individuals, in order that it may not be as seed
scattered among thorns and in stony places, and unproductive
of good. It is by no means desirable that it should get into the
hands of a class of idle, luxurious drawing-room readers, who
would enjoy it for about nine days as a sort of literary novelty,
and then cast it aside. I should be sorry for any people to be
bored with it, or induced to buy it, when they are not likely to
devote a single hour to its perusal. It would also be a great
mistake to obtrude it on quiet, orthodox Christians, or use it in
any way as an instrument of proselytism. I have half-a-dozen
brothers and sisters of this class, who have never seen the New
Koran, nor will ever see it from me, so long as they are not
educated up to it, but remain contented and happy in the bonds
�15
of their childhood’s belief. Years ago, Professor Newman, in a
letter from which I have already quoted, after advising me not
to seek employment in London, nor think of separating from
my parents and friends, without good reason, continued—“ Do
not imagine that any book of yours will ever soothe or convince
them. Dutiful and affectionate conduct, a manifestly pious and
conscientious mind in you, are what will most soothe and most
convince them. ..... Men will never be converted from a
religion which has much moral excellence in it, until they see a
higher moral excellence in those who impugn it. The inveterate
belief that all who reject Christianity are immoral, or unspiritual,
is the strength of the existing creed, as indeed the strength of
Trinitarianism lies in the prevalent want of spirituality in
Unitarians. Argument is important, yet argument of itself is
useless. Trinitarianism has been argued down a thousand times,
yet no impression is made on it commensurate with the strength
of the refutation. Beligious creeds were not originated by the
pure intellect, nor will they be ever overthrown by it. See how,
even in France, Popery has budded and renewed its strength in
the last fifty years ! That is because no higher spiritual move
ment followed on its prostration.’'’
The longer I live the more strongly do I find the truth of
these sentiments confirmed, and if they were more generally
entertained and acted on by religious reformers, it were well for
human progress. In order to benefit our fellow men, who are
contented slaves of superstition, we should be more anxious to
improve their character than to reform their creed; it is
desirable, before all things, to elevate them, and they will in
due time liberate themselves. The opposite unwise course,
of destroying reverential feeling in people who are morally
weak and ill-trained, and unprepared to make a good use of the
intellectual freedom which is forced upon them, has ever been
attended with mischievous results; it has produced nothing
better than religious rowdyism, bear-garden debates, and
French revolutions. Then, there are many thoughtful and pure
minds who, after slowly working their way towards a safe
emancipation from orthodox thraldom, turnback at last, appalled
on beholding the utter anarchy which prevails outside the pale
of Christianity, and believe Bationalism to be condemned by
its fruits. Other more courageous reformers having ventured
further and entirely got away from the old dominion of false
hood, on finding in the world of free-thought no new fellowship
�16
or religious communion to aid and cheer them in the path of
duty, nothing but cold, cavilling, self-reliant criticism, also
retrace their wandering steps at length, and, thoroughly broken
hearted and weary of spirit, re-enter their nursery fold as pro
digals, under the conviction that the bondage of its erratic
creed, with sympathy and love, is more easily to be borne than
liberty without. It is abundantly clear from such cases and
from the revolutionary history of the last hundred years, that
our mere destructive preaching and writing will avail little to
overthrow superstitions of twenty centuries’ growth; we must
contrive somehow and somewhere to setup the light of a higher
example. The world is not to be reformed by argument but by
action.
As the immediate object of this paper is a simple matter of
business, I must not unnecessarily complicate it, or allow my pen
to wander further in the discussion of principles which may be
more appropriately treated of elsewhere. The difficulties and
losses attending the publication of my book by the ordinary
commercial channel, and the circumstances which have compel
led me to think of some more safe and economical arrangement,
required a full and candid explanation. There is nothing more
to add; I will merely ask those of my readers who are in favour
of co-operative publishing, where exceptionally needed, and who
wish to see the second edition, which I have prepared, brought
out partly or wholly in this way, and are willing to purchase
copies on the terms mentioned, to kindly notify the same to—
John Vickers,
Sarness, Waltham,
Canterbury,
or
Rev. Charles Voysey,
Camden House,
Dulwich, S.E.
June 1st, 1873.
Wertheimer, Lea & Co., Printers, Finsbury Circus.
�
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Victorian Blogging
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A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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Conway Hall Library & Archives
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2018
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
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Title
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The publication of the new Koran: a few words from the author
Creator
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Vickers, John
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: [London?]
Collation: 16 p. ; 19 cm.
Notes: Presented in Memory of Dr. Moncure D. Conway by his children, July Nineteen hundred & eight. From the library of Dr Moncure Conway. Printed by Wertheimer, Lea & Co., Finsbury Circus, London. Author attribution from Virginia Clark's catalogue. Includes bibliographical reference.
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[Thomas Scott?]
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1873
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CT1
G5752
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Islam
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Text
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English
Conway Tracts
Islam
Koran
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Text
THE
POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY.
OCTOBER, 1873.
SILK-WORMS AND SERICULTURE.1
By A. DE QUATBEFAGES.
TRANSLATED
BY
ELIZA
A.
YOUMANS.
ENTLEMEN : When your honorable director invited me to
speak before you, I felt much embarrassed. I desired both to
interest and instruct you, but the subjects with which I am occupied
are of too abstract a nature to offer you much interest. In entering
upon them I run the risk of tiring you, and, as people who are tired
are little instructed, my aim would be doubly missed.
However, among the animals I have studied, there is one which, I
think, will awaken your attention. I mean the silk-worm. Its history
is full of serious instruction. It teaches us not to despise a being be
cause, at first, it seems useless ; it proves that creatures, in ap
pearance the most humble, may play a part of great importance to the
world ; it shows us that the most useful things are often slow to attract
public attention, but that sooner or later their day of justice arrives.
It teaches us, consequently, not to despair when valuable ideas or
practical inventions are not at first welcomed as they should be, for,
though their triumph is delayed, it is not less sure.
Perhaps, also, in choosing this subject, I have yielded a little to
national egotism. I was born in that province which was the first in
France to understand the importance of the silk-worm ; which owes to
this industry, fertilized by study and management, a prosperity rarely
equalled, and which, of late cruelly smitten, bears its misfortunes with
a firmness worthy of imitation.
We are to speak, then, of industry, of studious care, of perseverance,
of courage ; I am certain that you will be interested.
Pemit me, at first, to make a supposition—what we call an hypoth
esis : what would you say if a traveller, coming from some distant
G
1 A lecture delivered at the Imperial Asylum at Vincennes.
vol. hi.—42
�658
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
country, or a philosopher, who had found in some old book forgotten
facts, should tell you, “ There exists, in a country three or four thou
sand leagues from here, in the south of Asia, a tree and a caterpillar.
The tree produces nothing but leaves which nourish the caterpillar.”
To a certainty, most of you would say at first, “What of it?”
If the traveller or the man of learning should go on to say: “ But
this caterpillar is good for something; it produces a species of cocoon,
which the inhabitants know how to spin, and which they weave into
beautiful and durable fabrics. Would you not like to enter upon the
manufacture?” You would infallibly reply: “Have we not wool
from which to weave our winter vestments, and hemp, flax, and cotton,
for our summer clothing? Why should we cultivate this caterpillar'
and its cocoons ? ”
But suppose that the traveller or philosopher, insisting, should add:
“We should have to acclimate this tree and this caterpillar. The
tree, it is true, bears no fruit, and we must plant thousands of them,
for their leaves are to nourish the caterpillar, and it is necessary to
raise these caterpillars by the millions. To this end we must build
houses expressly for them, enlist and pay men to take care of them—
to feed them, watch them, and gather by hand the leaves on which
they live. The rooms where these insects are kept must be warmed
and ventilated with the greatest care. Well-paid laborers will pre
pare and serve their repasts, at regular hours. When the moment
arrives for the animal to spin his cocoon, he must have a sort of bower
of heather (Fig. 1), or branches of some other kind, properly prepared.
Sprigs of Heather
arranged so that the
Silk-worm
may mount into them.
And then, at the last day of its life, we must, with the minutest care
and the greatest pains, assure its reproduction.” Would you not
shrug your shoulders and say, “ Who, then, is such a madman as to
spend so much care and money to raise—what ?—some caterpillars ! ”
Finally, if your interlocutor should add—“ We will gather the co
coons spun by these caterpillars, and then the manufacture which spins
them will arise, which will call out all the resources of mechanics.
Still another new industry would employ this thread in fabricating
stuffs. The value of this thread, of these tissues, would be counted by
hundreds of millions for France alone; millions that would benefit
�SILK-WORMS AND SERICULTURE.
659
agriculture, industry, commerce; the producer and the artisan, the
laborer in the fields, and the laborer in towns. Our caterpillar and
its products will find a place in the elaborate treatises of states
men; and a time will come when France will think herself happy
that the sovereign of a distant empire, some four thousand leagues
away, had been pleased to permit her to buy in his states, and pay
very dear for, the eggs of this caterpillar ”—you would abruptly
turn your back and say, “ This man is a fool.” And you would
not be alone: agriculturists, manufacturers, bankers, and officials,
could not find sarcasms enough for this poor dreamer.
And yet it is the dreamer who is in the right. He has not
traced a picture of fancy. The caterpillar exists, and I do not ex
aggerate the importance of this humble insect, which plays a part
so superior to what seemed to have fallen to it. It is this of which
I wish to give you the history.
Let us first rapidly observe this animal, within and without. We
call it a silk-worm, but I have told you it was a caterpillar. (Fig. 7.)
I add that it has nothing marked in its appearance. It is larger
than the caterpillars that habitually prey upon our fruit-trees, but
smaller than the magnificent pearl-blue caterpillar so easy to find in
the potato-field. Like all caterpillars, it is is transformed into a but
terfly. To know the history of this species is to know the history of
all others.
Here in these bottles are some adult silk-worms, but here also
are some large pictures, where you will more easily follow the de
tails that I shall point out, beginning with the exterior.
At one of the extremities of its long, almost cylindrical body
(Fig. 7), we find the small head, provided with two jaws. These jaws
do not move up and down, as in man and most animals that surround
us, but laterally. All insects present the same arrangement.
The body is divided into rings, and you see some little black points
placed on the side of each of these rings ; these are the orifices of res
piration. The air enters by these openings, and penetrates the canals
that we shall presently find.
The silk-worm has ten pairs of feet. The three first pairs are
called the true feet, or scaly feet; the five last, placed behind, are the
false feet, or the membranous feet. These are destined to disappear
at length.
Let us pass to the interior of the body. Here we find, at first, the
digestive tube, which extends from one extremity to the other. It
commences at the oesophagus, that which you call the throat. Below
you remark an enormous cylindrical sac; it is the stomach, which is
followed by the very short intestine. These canals, slendei* and tor
tuous, placed on the side, represent, at the same time, the liver and
kidneys. This great yellow cord is the very important organ in which
is secreted the silky material (Fig. 2). In proportion as the animal
�66o
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
grows, this organ is filled with a liquid which, in passing through
the spinners, the orifice of which you see, dries in the air, and forms
a thread. This thread constitutes the silk.
The nervous system of the animal, placed below the digestive tube,
is with insects, as with all animals, of the highest importance. It is
the nervous system which seems to animate all the other organs, and
particularly the muscles. The latter are what we call flesh or meat.
They are in reality the organs of movement, with our caterpillar as
with man himself. Each of them is formed of elementary fibres that
have the property of contracting and relaxing; that is to say, of
shortening and lengthening under the influence of the will and of the
nervous system. Upon this property depend all the movements exe
cuted by any animal whatever.
Fig. 3.
Silk-secreting Apparatus of One Side of a Silk-worm. A, B, C, the part nearest the tail of
the worm.where the silk-matter is formed. D, E, enlarged portion—reservoir of silky matter.
E. F. capillary tubes proceeding from the two glands, and uniting in one single short canal F,
which opens in the mouth of the worm, at its under lip. Two silk threads are therefore
united together, and come out through the orifice with the appearance of a single thread.
I wish you to remark, d propos of the caterpillar—of this insect
that when crushed seems to be only a formless pulp—that its muscular
system is admirably organized. It is superior to that of man himself,
at least, in relation to the multiplicity of organs. We count in man
529 muscles; the caterpillar has 1,647, without counting those of the
feet and head, which give 1,118 more.
In us, as in most animals, there exists a nourishing liquid par ex
cellence that we know under the name of blood. This liquid, set in mo
tion by a heart, is carried into all parts of the body by arteries, and
�SILK-WORMS AND SERICULTURE.
661
comes back to the heart by veins. In making this circuit it finds on
its route the lungs filled with air by means of respiration.
In our caterpillar we also find blood and a species of heart, but it
has neither arteries nor veins. The blood is diffused throughout the
body and bathes the organs in all directions. However, it ought to
respire. Here step in the openings of which I have spoken. They
lead to a system of ramified canals, of which the last divisions pene
trate everywhere, and carry everywhere the air—that fluid essential
to the existence of all living beings. In our bodies the air and blood
are brought together. In insects the air seeks the blood in all parts
of the body.
I have sketched for you a caterpillar when it is full grown. But
you well know that living beings are not born in this state. The
general law is, small at birth, growth, and death. The caterpillar
passes through all these phases.
Fig. 3.
Fig. 4.
Egg and First Age, lasting five days. (An
age is the interval between two moultings.)
Second Age, lasting six days.
I pass around among you some samples of what we call seeds of
the silk-worm. These so-called seeds are in reality eggs. The cater
pillar comes out of the egg very small ; its length at birth is about
one-twentieth of an inch. Look at these samples, and you will see how
Fig. 6.
Fourth Age, lasting six days.
Fig. 7.
Fifth Age, lasting nine days. The mature worm near the end of its career, and at the time of
its greatest voracity.
great is the difference of size between the worm at birth and the fullgrown specimens I have shown you. This difference is much greater
than in man. A man weighs about forty times as much as the new
�66 2
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
born infant; the caterpillar, when perfectly developed, is 72,000 times
heavier than when it first came from the egg.
In every thing that relates to the body, there is between men and
animals more resemblance than is ordinarily believed. We also come
from an egg which essentially resembles all others. That this egg
may become a man, it must undergo very great changes, many meta
morphoses. But all these changes, all these metamorphoses occur in
the bosom of the mother, as they are accomplished within the shell for
the chicken. For insects in general, and consequently for the silk-worm
a part of these metamorphoses occur in the open day. Hence they
have drawn the attention, excited the curiosity, and provoked for a
long time the study of naturalists. Let us say a few words about them.
Scarcely is the caterpillar born than it begins to eat. It has no
time to lose in gaining a volume 72,000 times greater than it had at
first; so it acquits itself conscientiously of its task, and does nothing
but eat, diges|, and sleep. At the end of some days this devouring
appetite ceases ; the little worm becomes almost motionless, hangs
itself by the hind-feet, raising and holding a little inclined the ante
rior of its body.
This repose lasts 24, 36, and even 48 hours, according to the tem
perature ; then the dried-up skin splits open behind the head, and
soon along the length of the body. The caterpillar comes out with a
new skin, which is formed during this species of sleep.
This singular crisis, during which the animal changes his skin as
we change our shirt, is called moulting, when it is a question of cater
pillars in general. For the silk-worm, we designate it under the name
of sickness. It is, in fact, for the silk-worm, a grave period, during
which it often succumbs, if its health is not perfect.
Fig. 8.
Head of Silk-worm during Moulting ;
swollen, and skin wrinkled.
Fig. 9.
Position of Silk-worm while Moulting.—It
remains at rest for from 12 to 24 hours, fast
ing, but begins to eat an hour after the crisis
in which it escapes from the old skin.
The silk-worms change their skin four times. After the fourth
moulting comes a redoubled appetite, which permits them to attain
their full size in a few days. Then other phenomena appear. The
caterpillar ceases to eat, and empties itself entirely ; it seems uneasy,
wanders here and there, and seeks to climb. Warned by these symp
toms, the breeder constructs for it with branches a cradle or bower, into
which it mounts. It chooses a convenient place, hangs itself by the hind
feet, and soon, through the spinner of which I have spoken (Fig. 2),
�SILK-WORMS AND SERICULTURE.
663
we see come out a thread of silk. This is at first cast out in any di
rection, and forms a collection of cords destined to fix the cocoon that
is to be spun. Soon the work becomes regular, and the form of the
cocoon is outlined. For some hours we can see the worker performing
his task across the transparent gauze with which he surrounds him
self. By little and little, this gauze thickens, and grows opaque and
firm; finally it becomes a cocoon like these I place before you. At
the end of about 72 hours the work is done.
Once it has given out its first bit of silk, a worm in good health
never stops, and the thread continues without interruption from one
end to the other. You see that the cocoon is in reality a ball wound
from the outside inward. The thread which forms this ball is 11 miles
in length; its thickness is only
of an inch. It is so light that 28
miles of it weigh only 15^ grains. So that 2| lbs. of silk is more
than 2,700 miles long.
Let me insist a moment on the prodigious activity of the silk-worm
while weaving his cocoon. To dispose of its silk when spinning, it
moves its head in all directions, and each movement is about one-sixth
of an inch. As we know the length of the thread, we can calculate
how many movements are made in disposing of the silk in 72 hours.
We find in this way that a silk-worm makes nearly 300,000 motions
in 24 hours, or 4,166 an hour, or 69 per minute. You see that our in
sect yields not in activity to any weaver ; but we must add that it is
beaten by the marvellous machines that the industry of our day has
produced.
Fig. 10.
Spherical Cocoon or Bombyx Mori.
Fig. 11.
Cocoon drawn in toward the Middle.
All cocoons are not alike. There exist, in fact, different races of
silk-worms, as we have different races of dogs. These differences are
less obvious in the animals themselves ; they are best seen in the co
coons, which may be either white, yellow, green, or gray; some are
round, others oval or depressed in the middle (Figs. 10 and 11).
The silk of one is very fine and very strong, that of others is coarse
and easily broken. Hence their very different values.
All I have said applies to the silk-worm properly so called—to the
silk-worm which feeds on the leaves of the mulberry-tree, the Bombyx
mori of naturalists. But, some years since, there were introduced
into France new species of caterpillars that produce cocoons, and
�664
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
that live upon other leaves than the mulberry. Among these new im
portations, the two principal ones are the yama-mai worm, which
comes from Japan, and feeds upon the leaves of the oak, and the
ailanthus worm. The first gives a very beautiful and very fine silk,
while that of the second is dull and coarse. But the ailanthus grows
very well in unproductive soils, and hence the caterpillar which it
nourishes renders an important service.
But let us return to our mulberry caterpillar, or the silk-worm
properly so called. We left it at the moment when it disappeared
from our eyes enveloped in its cocoon. There, in its 'mysterious re
treat, it becomes torpid once more. It now shortens itself, changes
form, and submits to a fifth moulting. But the animal which emerges
from the old skin is no longer a caterpillar. It is in some sort a new
being; it is what we call a chrysalis. This chrysalis scarcely reminds
us of the silk-worm. The body is entirely swaddled ; we no longer
see either head or feet (Fig. 14). The color is changed, and has be
come a golden yellow. Only by certain obscure movements of the
posterior part do we know that it is not a dead body.
This apparent torpor in reality conceals a strange activity in all
the organs and all the tissues, which ends in the transformation of the
entire being.
In fifteen or seventeen days, according to the temperature, this
work is accomplished, and the last crisis arrives. The skin splits on
the back; the animal moults for the last time, but the creature that
now appears is no longer a caterpillar or a chrysalis ; it is a butterfly
(Fig. 12).
Fig. 12.
Silk-worm Moth (Male).
Is it needful to explain the details of this wonderful metamorpho
sis ? The body, before almost all alike, presents now three distinct
regions: the head, the chest (thorax)^ the belly (abdomen). Wings,
of which there was not the least vestige, are now developed. In com
pensation, the hind-feet have disappeared. The fore-feet persist, but
you would not know them, they have become so slender, and a fine
down covers all the parts.
In the interior, the transformation is also complete. The oesopha
gus (throat) is no longer a simple reversed funnel ; it is a narrow,
lengthened tube, with an aerial vessel attached, of which the caterpil
lar offers no trace. The stomach is strangely shortened. The intes
�SILK-WORMS AND SERICULTURE.
665
tine is elongated, and its different parts, that we found so difficult to
distinguish, are very much changed. If we examine in detail all the
organs just now indicated, even to the nervous system, we shall find
modifications not less striking.
But these are not the strangest changes that have occurred. There
are others which still more arrest our attention; they are those which
relate to the production of a new generation.
All caterpillars are neuters—that is to say, there are no males orfe
males among them. They have no apparatus of reproduction. These
organs are developed during the period that follows the formation of
the chrysalis while the animal is motionless, and seemingly dead.
Marriages occur at the coming out from the cocoon, and, immediately
after, the female lays her eggs, averaging about 500 (Fig. 13). This
Fig. 13.
done, she dies, the male ordinarily dying first. It is a general law for
insects; the butterfly of the silk-worm does not escape it. It is even
more rigorous for him than for his brethren that we see flying from
flower to flower. From the moment of entering the cocoon, the silk
worm takes no nourishment. When it becomes a butterfly, and has
assured the perpetuity of the species, its task is accomplished; there
is nothing more but to die.
Such, briefly, is the natural history of the silk-worm. It remains
to trace rapidly its industrial history.
Whence came this insect ? What is its country and that of the
mulberry for the tree and the animal seem to have always travelled
side by side? Every thing seems to indicate that China—Northern
China is its point of departure. Chinese annals establish the exist
ence of industries connected with it from those remote and semifabulous times when the emperors of the Celestial Empire had, it is
said, the head of a tiger, the body of a dragon, and the horns of
cattle. They attribute to the Emperor Fo-IIi, 3,400 years before our
era, the merit of employing silk in a musical instrument of his own
�666
TIIE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
invention. This date carries us back 5,265 years. They are said to
have employed the silk of wild caterpillars, and to have spun a sort
of floss. At that time they knew nothing of raising the worm or of
winding the cocoon into skeins.
This double industry appears to have arisen 2,650 years before our
era, or 4,515 years ago, through the efforts of an empress named Siling-Chi. To her is attributed the invention of silk stuffs. You will
not be surprised to see that the fabrication of silks should have a
woman as its inventor.
Si-ling-Chi, in creating this industry, which was to be so immense
ly developed, enriched her country. Her countrymen seem to have
understood the extent of the benefit, and to have been not ungrateful.
They placed her among their deities, under the name of Sein-Thsan,
two words that, according to M. Stanislas Julien, signify the first who
raised the silk-worm. And still, in our time, the empresses of China,
with their maids-of-honor, on an appointed day, offer solemn sacrifices
to Sien-Thsan. They lay aside their brilliant dress, renounce their
sewing, their embroidery, and their habitual work, and devote them
selves to raising the silk-worm. In their sphere they imitate the Em
peror of China, who, on his part, descends once a year from his throne
to trace a furrow with the plough.
The Chinese are an eminently practical race. No sooner did they
understand that silk would be to them a source of wealth, than they
strove to obtain a monopoly of it. They established guards along
their frontier—true custom-house officers—with orders to prevent the
going qut of seeds of the mulberry or of the silk-worm. Death was
pronounced against him who attempted to transport from the country
these precious elements which enriched the empire. So, during more
than twenty centuries, we were completely ignorant of the source of
these marvellous goods—the brilliant tissues manufactured from silk.
For a long time we believed them to be a sort of cotton; some sup
posed even that they were gathered in the fields, and were the webs
of certain gigantic spiders. The price of silk continued so high that
the Emperor Aurelian, after his victories in the Orient, refused his
jvife a silken robe, as being an object of immoderate luxury, even for
a Roman empress.
A monopoly founded on a secret ought necessarily to come to an
end, particularly when the secret is known by several millions of men.
But, to export the industry of Si-ling-Chi, it was needful to risk life in
deceiving the custom-house officer. It was a woman who undertook
this fine contraband stroke. Toward the year* 140 before our era, a
princess of the dynasty of Han, affianced to a King of Khokan,
learned that the country in which she was destined to live had neither
the mulberry nor the silk-worm. To renounce the worship of SeinThsan, and doubtless also to do without the beautiful stuffs, so dear to
the coquette, appeared to hei' impossible. So she did not hesitate to use
�SILK-WORMS AND SERICULTURE.
66?
the privileges of her rank to violate the laws of the empire. On ap
proaching the frontier, the princess concealed in her hair some mul
berry-seed and eggs of the butterfly. The guards dared not put their
hands on the head of a “ Princess of Heaven ; ” eggs and seeds passed
the officer without disturbance, and prospered well in Khokan, situated
near the middle of Asia.
And so commenced that journey which was not to be arrested till
the entire world possessed the mulberry and the silk-worm ; but it
was accomplished slowly and with long halts. That which had oc
curred in China occurred everywhere, each new state that obtained
the precious seeds attempting prohibition.
The silk-worm and mulberry got to Europe in 552, under Justinian.
At this time two monks of the order of St. Basil delivered to this em.peror the seeds, said to have come from the heart of Asia. To smug
gle them, they had taken still greater precautions than the Chinese
princess, for they hollowed out their walking-sticks, and filled the in
terior with the precious material. The Emperor Justinian did not
imitate the Asiatic potentates, but sought to propagate and extend
the silk-manufacture. Morea, Sicily, and Italy, were the first Euro
pean countries that accepted and cultivated the new products.
It was not till the twelfth or thirteenth century that the silk-worm
penetrated into France. Louis XI. planted mulberry-trees around his
Château of Plessis les-Tours. Besides, he called a Calabrian named
Francis to initiate the neighboring population in raising this precious
insect, and developing the several industries that are connected with it.
Under Henry IV., sericulture received a great impulse, thanks chiefly,
perhaps, to a simple gardener of Nîmes named François Traucat. It
is always said that this nurseryman distributed throughout the neigh
boring country more than four million mulberry-sprouts. In enrich
ing the country, Traucat acquired a considerable fortune ; but he lost
it foolishly. He had heard of treasures buried near a great castle
which commanded the town of Nîmes, and which is called the Castle
of Magne. He wished to increase the money he had nobly and use
fully gained, by this imaginary gold ; he bought the great castle and
neighboring ground, and dug the earth, which brought him nothing,
till he ruined himself.
The minister of Louis XIV., Colbert, sought also to propagate the
mulberry. Sully with reluctance had done the same, and sent trees
to various parts of the kingdom, some of which were still living when
I was a child. They were called by the name of this minister, and I
remember to have seen two of them in my father’s grounds, which no
longer bore leaves, but were piously preserved as souvenirs of their
origin.
To lead in the development of sericulture, a man was needed who
would not hesitate to set an example, and to make considerable sacri
fices. This man, I am proud to say, was a modest officer, Captain
�668
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
François de Carles, my grandfather. Returning from a campaign in
Italy, where he had seen how much the culture of the mulberry en.
nched the population, he resolved to transplant this industry into the
heart of Cévennes, where were his estates. He proceeded in this way :
He made plantations, and, in order to extend them, he did not hesitate
to uproot the chestnuts, those old nourishers of the ancient Cévennols.
Fig. 14.
Larva, Pupa, Cocoon,
and
Moth, of Silk-worm.
To water the mulberries, he constructed ditches and aqueducts ; then
efoiced, so to say, the peasants to take these improved lands at
their own price and on their own conditions. In this way he alienated
almost all his land, and singularly diminished his fortune ; but he en
riched the country. The results speak too distinctly to be misunder
stood. You shall judge by the figures.
�SILK-WORMS AND SERICULTURE.
66g
The little valley where Captain Carles made his experiments, and
where I was born, belongs to the Commune of Valleraugue. At the
time of which I speak, they harvested scarcely 4,400 lbs. of very poor
cocoons, that sold for very little. Recently there were produced, before
the malady of which I shall presently speak, 440,000 lbs. of excellent
quality, valued on an average at 2| or 2| francs per pound. At this
price, a million of silver money found its way each year into this little
commune of not more than 4,000 inhabitants.
Let me remark that this money went not alone to the rich. The
small proprietors, the day-laborers, those even who owned not the
least land, had the greatest part. In fact, most of the easy proprie
tors did not raise their own silk-worms; they contracted for them in
this way: The laborer received a certain quantity of eggs of the silk
worm on the condition of giving a fifth of the cocoons for an ounce
of eggs ; they received, besides, enough mulberry-leaves to nourish
all the worms from these eggs, plus a certain quantity to boot. All
the cocoons above this constituted the wages or gain of the raiser.
You see, we had resolved in our mountains this problem, so often
encountered and still unsettled, of the association of capital and labor;
and resolved it in the best possible way for both. The interest of the
proprietor was, in this case, identical with that of the rearer, and re
ciprocally ; for the success of a good workman would equally benefit
both parties, and the poor workman could profit only according to his
work.
Now, this labor was in reality of little account. Until after the
fourth moulting, when the silk-worm is preparing to make his cocoon,
the rearing of the worms can be performed by the women and chil
dren while the father pursues his ordinary occupation. Only after the
fourth moult is he obliged to interrupt his work, and occupy himself,
in his turn, in the gathering of leaves. The rearing ended, an indus
trious family—and such are not rare with us—will have, on an average,
from 250 to 500 francs of profit. This bright silver, added to the re
sources of the year, this profit obtained without the investment of
capital, seconded by the wise conduct of our mountaineer Cevennols,
leads rapidly to competency. At the end of a few years, the laborer,
who had nothing, possesses a little capital to buy some corner of rock,
which, by his intelligent industry, he quickly transforms into fertile
soil, and in his turn becomes a proprietor.
What I am telling you is not fancy. I speak of facts that have
occurred under my own eyes, and that I well know. In the country,
and particularly on the soil of our old mountains, people are not
strangers to each other, as in our great cities. Between the gentle
man and the peasant there are not the same barriers as between the
citizen and the laborer in towns. When a child, I played with all my
little neighbors; I knew the most secret nooks of the eight or ten
houses composing the modest hamlet which bordered the place where
�670
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
I was born; I saluted by their names the members of all the families
of the valley. And now, when I go to the country, it is always a
great pleasure to visit these houses, one by one, and take by the hand
those from whom I have been so long separated. But this happiness
is always mingled with sorrow; the number of those I knew dimin
ishes with each visit, and those who have come since cannot replace
them for me.
Permit me to give you the history of one of these families. It
occurs to me first, as it contrasted with all the others by its miserable
dwelling. This was a little thatch-built cottage, standing by itself at
the foot of an irregular slope of perfectly bare rocks. It consisted of
a single story, with only one room, scarcely larger than one of our
bedrooms ; the wall, built without mortar, was any thing but regular;
the roof consisted of flags of stone, retaining, as well as they were
able, a mass of straw and branches. Between the rocks that sup
ported this house and the wall, there was a little place where was
kept a pig, the ordinary resource of all Cevennol house-keeping.
This cottage was occupied, when I was eleven or twelve years old,
by a man with his wife and four children. The father and mother
worked in the field ; the eldest child, scarcely of my age, had begun to
be useful, particularly in the time of gathering the mulberry-leaves ;
the smaller ones drove the pig along the road, where it grew and fat
tened, the best it could, without any expense.
After an absence of ten years, I returned to my mountains, and the
first thing was to call upon my old neighbors, those of whom I have
spoken among the rest. In approaching, I scarcely knew the place. The
rocks that supported the house had disappeared to make way for those
traversiers of which I shall tell you presently; the house had been re
built, it had gained a story, and was of double its former extent; its
walls were laid in mortar; its roof covered with beautiful slate. The
master of the house was absent, but his wife welcomed me with a glass
of wine from a neat walnut table. Then she showed me, with proper
pride, a room with two beds at the farther end, the first portion being
devoted to the rearing of silk-worms; and, above all, the favorite ar
ticle of furniture of all good Cevennol housekeeping—an immense
cupboard of walnut, crammed with clothing, dresses, and raiment
of all sorts. At the same time she gave me news of all the family :
the eldest son was a soldier; a daughter was married ; the eldest re
maining children attended to the business, and, as of old, the younger
ones ran about watching the pig. I clasped with pleasure the hand
of this brave woman, because this competence was the fruit of good
conduct, of industry, of perseverance, and of economy. And what
the silk-worm did in ten years for one family it has been doing for
nearly a century for the whole region of Cevennes, because among
them you generally find the same elements of success.
That you may better understand me, I wish to give you some idea
�671
SILK-WORMS AND SERICULTURE.
of these valleys. Let me sketch for you the one I know best, the one
in which I was born. It is composed of ascents so steep that, when
two neighboring houses are placed one above the other, the cellar of
the upper one is on the same level as the garret of the lower one.
There is not much earth on these declivities, and the rocks stick out
everywhere. But it is, as it were, from the rocks themselves that
our mountaineers make their mulberry-plantations. They proceed
in this way: They first break up the rocks, and with the larger
Fig. 15.
Sheets of Papeb, with Rows
of
Cocoons
prepared for the
fob laying Eggs.
Exit
of the
Moths
designed
stones so obtained they raise a wall; then, with the smaller pieces,
they fill up the interval between the wall and the mountain. This
done, they bring upon their backs, from the bottom of the valley, soil
and manure enough entirely to fill the space. This is what is called
a traversier, and it is in this soil that most of the mulberry-trees are
planted. I have seen a bridge built across a mountain-stream ex
pressly to give foothold for two or three of these precious trees. To
pay for all this preparation the produce should be very great. The
following figures give the average value of ground planted to mulber
ries for 20 years:
Traversiers not watered
Fields watered
Meadows planted with mulberries
1 acre,
1 acre,
1 acre,
9,800 francs.
12,000 “
12,400 “
and even then the money yielded five per cent. This price, which
some would not believe when I told them, has been officially confirmed
by M. de Lavergne, in his remarkable writings upon French agricul
ture. This value of land, and the way it has been obtained, explain
the nature of our country’s wealth. With the exception of some fami
lies recently enriched by the silk-manufacture and the silk-trade, the
level of this wealth, although very high, is more of the nature of gen
eral competence than of great fortunes. Industry and economy have
�672
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
produced general well-being, without the growth of offensive differ
ences. I cannot say how it is now, but in my childhood there were
no paupers in our commune, except two infirm people who were sup
ported in their misfortunes by voluntary aid.
Fig. 16.
These striking results could not fail to affect the neighboring
country. This example of the culture of the mulberry was imitated
throughout the south of France, and adopted more or less in other
departments. You can judge of the progress made in this culture by
the following figures, giving the quantity of cocoons produced an
nually :
From 1821 to 1830
44
1831 44 1840
44
1841 44 1845
44
1846 44 1852
44
1853
.
.
.
.
22,000,000 pounds.
44
31,000,000
37,000,000 44
46,000,000 44
56,000,000 44
These 56,000,000 lbs. of cocoons sold at from 2^ to 2$ francs per
lb., representing a value of about 130,000,000 francs. Now, these
millions all went to agriculture, to the first producer; and so they
added to the national wealth at its most vital source. If this progress
had continued, in a few years we should have been able to supply our own
manufactures, and relieve ourselves of the tribute of 60 or 65,000,000
francs that we pay to foreign countries. But, unhappily, at the moment
when this culture was most prosperous, when mulberry-plantations
were springing up on all sides, fed by the nurseries which were each
day more numerous, all this prosperity disappeared before the terrible
scourge to which I alluded in the beginning of my discourse.
Like all our domestic animals, the silk-worm is subject to various
maladies. One, called the muscardlne, that for a long time was the
terror of breeders, is caused by a species of mould or microscopic
mushroom. This mushroom invades the interior of the body of the
insect. After affecting all the tissues, this vegetal parasite sometimes
�SILK-WORMS AND SERICULTURE.
&73
suddenly appears upon the outside of the body in the form of a white
powder. Each grain of this powder, falling upon a silk-worm, plants
the seed of this formidable mushroom, the ravages of which will
destroy all the worms of a rearing-chamber in a few hours. Happily,
science has found the means of killing these seeds, and of completely
disinfecting the locality. At the very moment when this victory was
announced, another yet more terrible scourge, the pebrine, appeared.
The muscardine caused isolated disaster; it had never been so wide
spread as seriously to injure the general business. Not so this other
malady. It is a true epidemic, which attacks life at its very source in
an inexplicable fashion. It is a pestilence like the cholera. Under
the influence of this scourge, the chambers of the silk-worm no longer
thrive; most of the worms die without producing silk. Those that
survive as butterflies give infected eggs, and the next generation is
worse than the first. To get healthy eggs, we had to go to the neigh
boring countries; but other countries have been invaded in their turn.
To-day we have to get them in Japan. Even when the egg is healthy,
the epidemic bears equally on its product; a great part of the worms
always succumb, and when the breeder gets half a crop he is very
happy. Upon the whole, the great majority of breeders have worked
at a loss since the invasion of this disease.
You understand the consequences of such a state of things, con
tinued since 1849. The people make nothing ; they lose, and yet
VOL. III.—43
�674
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
they have to live and cultivate their ground. In this business the
profits melt away rapidly, and particularly where the mulberry was
the only crop, as at Cevennes, misery has taken the place of comfort.
Those who once called themselves rich are to-day scarcely able to get
food to eat. Those who used to hire day-laborers to gather their har
vest have become day-laborers, and the laborers of former times have
emigrated. This will give you an idea of the extremities to which
they are reduced, for to uproot a mountaineer of Cevennes he must be
dying of hunger.
To escape a fatality so heavy, these people have displayed perse
verance and courage of the highest kind. . They have undertaken dis
tant journeys to get non-infected eggs. More than one has not come
back from these journeys, where it was needful to struggle against
great fatigue in inhospitable countries. Although they fell not on a
field of battle, struck by ball or bullet, they were true soldiers; and,
although they did not carry arms, they died in the service of the
country.
Fig. 18.
Fig. 19.
Square Net.
Lozenge-shaped Net.
Nets used to separate the worms from their faded and withered leaves. Fresh leaves are spread
on these nets, and the worms leave the old food to get on to the new leaves.
During seventeen years this exhaustion has been most aggravated
in places chiefly devoted to sericulture. But, if these local sufferings
merit all our sympathy, their general consequences still more demand
our attention. Confidence in the culture of the silk-worm has dimin
ished wherever it was not the exclusive occupation. Where other
crops could replace it, that of the mulberry was easily discouraged.
In many countries they have destroyed the tree so lately known as
the tree of gold.
As the foregoing interesting discourse was delivered in 1866, the
following statement of Prof. Huxley regarding the p'ebrine malady,
made in 1870, in his address before the British Association, will be in
teresting.—[Editor.
�SILK-WORMS AND SERICULTURE.
12122110
675
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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,
“ The Italian naturalist, Filippi, discovered, in the blood of silk
worms affected by this strange disease, p'ebrine, a multitude of cylin
drical corpuscles, each of about -g-gVtr of an inch long. These have been
carefully studied by Lebert, and named by him Panhistophyton ; for
the reason that", in subjects in which the disease is strongly developed,
the corpuscles swarm in every tissue and organ of the body, and even
pass into the undeveloped eggs of the female moth. The French Gov
ernment, alarmed by the continued ravages of the malady and the in
efficiency of the remedies which had been suggested, dispatched M.
Pasteur to study it, and the question has received its final settlement.
It is now certain that this devastating, cholera-like p'ebrine is the effect
of the growth and multiplication of the Panhistophyton in the silk
worm. It is contagious and infectious, because the corpuscles of the
Panhistophyton pass away from the bodies of the diseased caterpillars,
directly or indirectly, to the alimentary canal of healthy silk-worms in
their neighborhood; it is hereditary, because the corpuscles enter into
the egg. There is not a single one of all the apparently capricious
and unaccountable phenomena presented by the plbrine, but has re
ceived its explanation from the fact that the disease is the result of the
presence of the microscopic organism Panhistophyton. M. Pasteur
has devised a method of extirpating the disease, which has proved to
be completely successful when properly carried out.”
MENTAL SCIENCE AND SOCIOLOGY.
By HERBERT SPENCER.
ROBABLY astonishment would make the reporters drop their
pencils, were any member of Parliament to enunciate a psycho
logical principle as justifying his opposition to a proposed measure.
That some law of association of ideas, or some trait in emotional de
velopment, should be deliberately set forth as a sufficient ground for
saying “ ay” or “no” to a motion for second reading, would doubt
less be too much for the gravity of legislators. And along with
laughter from many there would come from a few cries of “ question: ”
the entire irrelevancy to the matter in hand being conspicuous. It is
true that during debates the possible behavior of citizens under the
suggested arrangements is described. Evasions of this or that pro
vision, difficulties in carrying it out, probabilities of resistance, con
nivance, corruption, etc., are urged; and these tacitly assert that the
mind of man has certain characters, and under the conditions named
is likely to act in certain ways. In other words, there is an implied
recognition of the truth that the effects of a law will depend on the
-L
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manner in which human intelligence and human feeling are influenced
by it. Experiences of men’s conduct which the legislator has gath
ered, and which lie partially sorted in his memory, furnish him with
empirical notions that guide his judgment on each question raised;
and he would think it folly to ignore all this unsystematized knowl
edge about people’s characters and actions. But, at the same time,
he regards as foolish the proposal to proceed, not on vaguely-gen
eralized facts, but on facts accurately generalized; and, as still more
foolish, the proposal to merge these minor definite generalizations in
generalizations expressing the ultimate laws of Mind. Guidance by
intuition seems to him much more rational.
Of course, I do not mean to say that his intuition is of small
value. How should I say this, remembering the immense accumula
tion of experiences by which his thoughts have been moulded into
harmony with things ? We all know that when the successful man of
business is urged by wife and daughters to get into Parliament, that
they may attain a higher social standing, he always replies that his
occupations through life have left him no leisure to prepare himself,
by collecting and digesting the voluminous evidence respecting the
effects of institutions and policies, and that he fears he might do mis
chief. If the heir to some large estate, or scion of a noble house
powerful in the locality, receives a deputation asking him to stand for
the county, we constantly read that he pleads inadequate knowledge
as a reason for declining : perhaps hinting that, after ten years spent
in the needful studies, he may have courage to undertake the heavy
responsibilities proposed to him. So, too, we have the familiar fact
that, when, at length, men who have gathered vast stores of political
information gain the confidence of voters who know how carefully
they have thus fitted themselves, it still perpetually happens that after
election they find they have entered on their work prematurely. It is
true that beforehand they had sought anxiously through the records
of the past, that they might avoid legislative errors of multitudinous
kinds, like those committed in early times. Nevertheless, when acts
are proposed referring to matters dealt with in past generations by
acts long since cancelled or obsolete, immense inquiries open before
them. Even limiting themselves to the 1,126 acts repealed in 1823-’29,
and the further 770 repealed in 1861, they find that to learn what
these aimed at, how they worked, why they failed, and whence^ arose
the mischiefs they wrought, is an arduous task, which yet they feel
bound to undertake lest they should reinflict these mischiefs; and
hence the reason why so many break down under the effort, and retire
with health destroyed. Nay, more—on those with constitutions vig
orous enough to carry them through such inquiries, there continually
presses the duty of making yet further inquiries. Besides tracing the
results of abandoned laws in other societies, there is at home, year by
year, more futile law-making to be investigated and lessons to be
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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
drawn from it; as, for example, from the 134 public acts passed in
1856-’57, of which all but 68 are wholly or partially repealed. And
thus it happens that, as every autumn shows us, even the strongest
men, finding their lives during the recess overtaxed with the needful
study, are obliged so to locate themselves that by an occasional day’s
hard riding after the hounds, or a long walk over the moors with gun
in hand, they may be enabled to bear the excessive strain on their ner
vous systems. Of course, therefore, I am not so unreasonable as to
deny that judgments, even empirical, which are guided by such care
fully-amassed experiences, must be of much worth.
But, fully recognizing the vast amount of information which the
legislator has laboriously gathered from the accounts of institutions
and laws, past and present, here and elsewhere, and admitting that,
before thus instructing himself, he would no more think of enforcing a
new law than would a medical student think of plunging an operating
knife into the human body before learning where the arteries ran, the
remarkable anomaly here demanding our attention is, that he objects
to any thing like analysis of these phenomena he has so diligently
collected, and has no faith in conclusions drawn from the ensemble of
them. Not discriminating very correctly between the word “gen
eral ” and the word “ abstract,” and regarding as abstract principles
what are in nearly all cases general principles, he speaks contemptu
ously of these as belonging to the region of theory, and as not con
cerning the law-maker. Any wide truth that is insisted upon as being
implied in many narrow truths, seems to him remote from reality and
unimportant for guidance. The results of recent experiments in legis
lation he thinks worth attending to; and, if any one reminds him of
the experiments he has read so much about, that were made in other
times and other places, he regards these also, separately taken, as de
serving of consideration. But, if, instead of studying special classes
of legislative experiments, some one compares many classes together,
generalizes the results, and proposes to be guided by the generaliza
tion, he shakes his head skeptically. And his skepticism passes into
ridicule if it is proposed to affiliate such generalized results on the
laws of Mind. To prescribe for society on the strength of countless
unclassified observations, appears to him a sensible course ; but, to
colligate and systematize the observations so as to educe tendencies
of human behavior displayed throughout cases of numerous kinds, to
trace these tendencies to their sources in the mental natures of men,
and thence to draw conclusions for guidance, appears to him a vision
ary course.
Let us look at some of the fundamental facts he ignores, and at
the results of ignoring them.
Rational legislation, based as it can only be on a true theory of
conduct, which is derivable only from a true theory of mind, must
�MENTAL SCIENCE AND SOCIOLOGY.
679
recognize as a datum the direct connection of action with feeling.
That feeling and action bear a constant ratio, is a statement needing
qualification ; for at the one extreme there are automatic actions which
take place without feeling, and at the other extreme there are feelings so
intense that, by deranging the vital functions, they impede or arrest
action. But, speaking of those activities which life in general pre
sents, it is a law tacitly recognized by all, though not distinctly formu
lated, that action and feeling vary together in their amounts. Pas
sivity and absence of facial expression, both implying rest of the mus
cles, are held to show that there is being experienced neither much
sensation nor much emotion, while the degree of external demon
stration, be it in movements that rise finally to spasms and contor
tions, or be it in sounds that end in laughter, and shrieks, and groans,
is habitually accepted as a measure of the pleasure or pain, sensa
tional or emotional. And so, too, where continued expenditure of
energy is seen, be it in a violent struggle to escape, or be it in the
persevering pursuit of an object, the quantity of effort is held to show
the quantity of feeling.
This truth, undeniable in its generality, whatever qualifications
secondary truths make in it, must be joined with the truth that cog
nition does not produce action. If I tread on a pin, or unawares dip
my hand into very hot water, I start: the strong sensation produces
motion without any thought intervening. Conversely, the proposition
that a pin pricks, or that hot water scalds, leaves me quite unmoved.
True, if to one of these propositions is joined the idea that a pin is
about to pierce my skin, or to the other the idea that some hot water
will fall on it, there results a tendency, more or less decided, to shrink.
But that which causes shrinking is the ideal pain. The statement that
the pin will hurt or the water scald produces no effect, so long as there
is nothing beyond a recognition of its meaning : it produces an effect
only when the pain verbally asserted becomes a pain actually con
ceived as impending—only when there rises in consciousness a repre
sentation of the pain, which is a faint form of the pain as before felt.
That is to say, the cause of movement here, as in other cases, is a feel
ing and not a cognition. What we see even in these simplest actions,
runs through actions of all degrees of complexity. It is never the
knowledge which is the moving agent in conduct, but it is always the
feeling which goes along with that knowledge, or is excited by it.
Though the drunkard knows that after to-day’s debauch will come to
morrow’s headache, yet he is not deterred by consciousness of this
truth, unless the penalty is distinctly represented—unless there rises
in his consciousness a vivid idea of the misery to be borne—unless
there is excited in him an adequate amount of feeling antagonistic to
his desire for drink. Similarly with improvidence in general. If com
ing evils are imagined with clearness and the threatened sufferings
ideally felt, there is a due check on the tendency to take immediate
*
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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
gratifications without stint; but, in the absence of that consciousness
of future ills which is constituted by the ideas of pains, distinct or
vague, the passing desire is not opposed effectually. The truth that
recklessness brings distress, fully acknowledged though it may be, re
mains inoperative. The mere cognition does not affect conduct—con
duct is affected only when the cognition passes out of that intellectual
form in which the idea of distress is little more than verbal, into a form
in which this term of the proposition is developed into a vivid imagi
nation of distress—a mass of painful feeling. It is thus with conduct
of every kind. See this group of persons clustered at the river-side.
A boat has upset, and some one is in danger of drowning. The fact,
that, in the absence of aid, the youth in the water will shortly die, is
known to them all. That by swimming to his assistance his life may
be saved, is a proposition denied by none of them. The duty of help
ing fellow-creatures who are in difficulties, they have been taught all
their lives ; and they will severally admit that running a risk to pre
vent a death is praiseworthy. Nevertheless, though sundry of them
can swim, they do nothing beyond shouting for assistance or giving
advice. But now here comes one who, tearing off his coat, plunges in
to the rescue. In what does he differ from the others ? Not in knowl
edge. Their cognitions are equally clear with his. They know as
well as he does that death is impending, and know, too, how it
may be prevented. In him, however, these cognitions arouse certain
correlative emotions more strongly than they are aroused in the
rest. Groups of feelings are excited in all; but, whereas in the
others the deterrent feelings of fear, etc., preponderate, in him
there is a surplus of the feelings excited by sympathy, joined, it
may be, with others not of so high a kind. In each case, however,
the behavior is not determined by knowledge, but by emotion. Ob
viously, change in the actions of these passive spectators is not to be
effected by making their cognitions clearer, but by making their higher
feelings stronger.
Have we not here, then, a cardinal psychological truth, to which
any rational system of human discipline must conform ? Is it not mani
fest that a legislation which ignores it and tacitly assumes its opposite
will inevitably fail ? Yet much of our legislation does this ; and we
are at present, legislature and nation together, eagerly pushing for
ward schemes which proceed on the postulate that conduct is deter
mined not by feelings, but by cognitions.
For what else is the assumption underlying this anxious urging-on
of organizations for teaching ? What is the root-notion common to
Secularists and Denominational!sts, but the notion that spread of
knowledge is the one thing needful for bettering behavior ? Having
both swallowed certain statistical fallacies, there has grown up in them
the belief that State-education will check ill-doing. In newspapers,
�MENTAL SCIENCE ANN SOCIOLOGY.
681
they have often met with comparisons between the numbers of crimi
nals who can read and write and the numbers who cannot; and, find
ing the numbers who cannot greatly exceed the numbers who can,
they accept the inference that ignorance is the cause of crime. It does
not occur to them to ask whether other statistics, similarly drawn up,
would not prove with like conclusiveness that crime is caused by ab
sence of ablutions, or by lack of clean linen, or by bad ventilation, or
by want of a separate bedroom. Go through any jail, and ascertain
how many prisoners had been in the habit of taking a morning bath,
and you would find that criminality habitually went with dirtiness of
skin. Count up those who had possessed a second suit of clothes, and
a comparison of the figures would show you that but a small percent
age of criminals were habitually able to change their garments. In
quire whether they had lived in main streets or down courts, and you
would discover that nearly all urban crime comes from holes and
corners. Similarly, a fanatical advocate of total abstinence or of sani
tary improvement could get equally strong statistical justifications
for his belief. But, if, not accepting the random inference presented
to you, that ignorance and crime are cause and effect, you consider, as
above, whether crime may not with equal reason be ascribed to various
other causes, you are led to see that it is really connected with an in
ferior mode of life, itself usually consequent on original inferiority of
nature ; and you are led to see that ignorance is simply one of the
concomitants, no more to be held the cause of crime than various
other concomitants.
But this obvious criticism, and the obvious counter-conclusion it
implies, are not simply overlooked, but, when insisted on, seem pow
erless to affect the belief which has taken possession of men. Disap
pointment alone will now affect it. A wave of opinion, reaching a cer
tain height, cannot be changed by any evidence or argument, but has
to spend itself in the gradual course of things before a reaction of
opinion can arise. Otherwise it would be incomprehensible that this
confidence in the curative effects of teaching, which men have care
lessly allowed to be generated in them by the reiterations of doctrinaire
politicians, should survive the direct disproofs yielded by daily ex
perience. Is it not the trouble of every mother and every governess,
that perpetual insisting on the right and denouncing the wrong do not
suffice ? Is it not the constant complaint that on many natures reason
ing and explanation and the clear demonstration of consequences are
scarcely at all operative; that where they are operative there is a more
or less marked difference of emotional nature ; and that where, having
before failed, they begin to succeed, change of feeling rather than differ
ence of apprehension is the cause ? Do we not similarly hear from
every house-keeper that servants usually pay but little attention to re
proofs ; that they go on perversely in old habits, regardless of clear
evidence of their foolishness; and that their actions are to be altered
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not by explanations and reasonings, but by either the fear of penalties
or the experience of penalties—that is, by the emotions awakened in
them ? When we turn from domestic life to the life of the outer world,
do not like disproofs everywhere meet us ? Are not fraudulent bank
rupts educated people, and getters-up of bubble-companies, and makers
of adulterated goods, and users of false trade-marks, and retailers who
have light weights, and owners of unseaworthy ships, and those who
cheat insurance-companies, and those who carry on turf-chicaneries,
and the great majority of gamblers ? Or, to take a more extreme
form of turpitude—is there not, among those who have committed
murder by poison within our memories, a considerable number of the
educated—a number bearing as large a ratio to the educated classes
as does the total number of murderers to the total population ?
This belief in the moralizing effects of intellectual culture, flatly
contradicted by facts, is absurd a priori. What imaginable connection
is there between the learning that certain clusters of marks on paper
stand for certain words and the getting a higher sense of duty ? What
possible effect can acquirement of facility in making written signs of
sounds have in strengthening the desire to do right? How does
knowledge of the multiplication-table, or quickness in adding and
dividing, so increase the sympathies as to restrain the tendency to
trespass against fellow-creatures ? In what way can th? attainment
of accuracy in spelling and parsing, etc., make the sentiment of justice
more powerful than it was; or why from stores of geographical in
formation, perseveringly gained, is there likely to come increased re
gard for truth ? The irrelation between such causes and such effects
is almost as great as that between exercise of the fingers and strength
ening of the legs. One who should by lessons in Latin hope to give
a knowledge of geometry, or one who should expect practice in draw
ing to be followed by expressive rendering of a sonata, would be
thought fit for an asylum; and yet he would be scarcely more irra
tional than are those who by discipline of the intellectual faculties ex
pect to produce better feelings.
This faith in lesson-books and readings is one of the superstitions
of the age. Even as appliances to intellectual culture, books are
greatly over-estimated. Instead of second-hand knowledge being re
garded as of less value than first-hand knowledge, and as a knowledge
to be sought only where first-hand knowledge cannot be had, it is
actually regarded as of greater value. Something gathered from
printed pages is supposed to enter into a course of education; but,
if gathered by observation of Life and Nature, is supposed not thus
to enter. Reading is seeing by proxy—is learning indirectly through
another man’s faculties, instead of directly through one’s own facul
ties ; and such is the prevailing bias that the indirect learning is
thought preferable to the direct learning, and usurps the name of
cultivation! We smile when told that savages consider writing as
�MENTAL SCIENCE AND SOCIOLOGY.
683
a kind of magic: and we laugh at the story of the negro who hid a
letter under a stone, that it might not inform against him when he
devoured the fruit he was sent with. Yet the current notions about
printed information betray a kindred delusion: a kind of magical
efficacy is ascribed to ideas gained through artificial appliances, as
compared with ideas otherwise gained. And this delusion, injurious
in its effects even on intellectual culture, produces effects still more
injurious on moral culture, by generating the assumption that this,
too, can be got by reading and the repeating of lessons.
It will, I know, be said that not from intellectual teaching, but
from moral teaching, are improvement of conduct and diminution of
crime looked for. While, unquestionably, many of those who urge on
educational schemes believe in the moralizing effects of knowledge
in general, it must be admitted that some hold general knowledge to
be inadequate, and contend that rules of right conduct must be
taught. Already, however, reasons have been given why the expec
tations even of these are illusory; proceeding, as they do, on the as
sumption that the intellectual acceptance of moral precepts will pro
duce conformity to them. Plenty more reasons are forthcoming. I
will not dwell on the contradictions to this assumption furnished by
the Chinese, to all of whom the high ethical maxims of Confucius are
taught, and who yet fail to show us a conduct proportionately exem
plary. Nor will I enlarge on the lesson to be derived from the United
States, the school-system of which brings up the whole population
under the daily influence of chapters which set forth principles of right
conduct, and which nevertheless in its political life, and by many of
its social occurrences, shows us that conformity to these principles is
any thing but complete. It will suffice if I limit myself to evidence
supplied by our own society, past and present, which negatives, very
decisively, these sanguine expectations. For, what have we been do
ing all these many centuries by our religious agencies, but preaching
right principles to old and young? What has been the aim of ser
vices in our ten thousand churches, week after week, but to enforce a
code of good conduct by promised rewards and threatened penalties ?
—the whole population having been for many generations compelled
to listen. What have Dissenting chapels, more numerous still, been
used for, unless as places where pursuance of right and desistance from
wrong have been unceasingly commended to all from childhood up
ward ? And if now it is held that something more must be done—
if, notwithstanding perpetual explanations and denunciations and ex
hortations, the misconduct is so great that society is endangered,
why, after all this insistance has failed, is it expected that more insistance will succeed ? See here the proposals and the implied beliefs.
Teaching by clergymen not having had the desired effect, let us try
teaching by school-masters. Bible-reading from a pulpit, with the ac
companiment of imposing architecture, painted windows, tombs, and
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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
“ dim religious light,” having proved inadequate, suppose we try bible
reading in rooms with bare walls, relieved only by maps and drawings
of animals. Commands and interdicts, uttered by a surpliced priest
to minds prepared by chant and organ-peal, not having been obeyed,
let us see whether they will be obeyed when mechanically repeated
in school-boy sing-song to a threadbare usher, amid the buzz of lesson
learning and clatter of slates. No very hopeful proposals, one would
say; proceeding, as they do, upon one or other of the beliefs, that a
moral precept will be effective in proportion as it is received without
emotional accompaniment, and that its effectiveness will increase in
proportion to the number of times it is repeated. Both these beliefs
are directly at variance with the results of psychological analysis and
of daily experience. Certainly, such influence as may be gained by
addressing moral truths to the intellect, is made greater if the ac
companiments arouse an appropriate emotional excitement, as a re
ligious service does; while, conversely, there can be no more effectual
way of divesting such moral truths of their impressiveness, than as
sociating them with the prosaic and vulgarizing sounds and sights
and smells coming from crowded children. And no less certain is it
that precepts, often heard and little regarded, lose by repetition the
small influence they had. What do public-schools show us ?—are
the boys rendered merciful to one another by listening to religious
injunctions every morning? What do universities show us?—have
perpetual chapels habitually made undergraduates behave better than
the average of young men ? What do cathedral-towns show us ?—
is there in them a moral tone above that of other towns, or must we
from the common saying, “ the nearer the church,” etc., infer a per
vading impression to the contrary ? What do clergymen’s sons show
us?—has constant insistance on right conduct made them conspicu
ously superior, or do we not rather hear it whispered that something
like an opposite effect seems produced. Or, to take one more case,
what do religious newspapers show us ?—is it that the precepts of
Christianity, more familiar to their writers than to other writers, are
more clearly to be traced in their articles, or has there not ever been
displayed a want of charity in their dealings with opponents, and is
it not still displayed? Nowhere do we find that repetition of rules
of right, already known but disregarded, produces regard for them;
but we find that, contrariwise, it makes the regard for them less than
before.
The prevailing assumption is, indeed, as much disproved by analy
sis as it is contradicted by familiar facts. Already we have seen that
the connection is between action and feeling ; and hence the corollary,
that only by a frequent passing of feeling into action is the tendency
to such action strengthened. Just as two ideas often repeated in a
certain'order become coherent in that order; and just as muscular
motions, at first difficult to combine properly with one another and
�MENTAL SCIENCE AND SOCIOLOGY.
685
with guiding perceptions, become by practice facile, and at length au
tomatic ; so the recurring production of any conduct by its prompting
emotion makes that conduct relatively easy. Not by precept, though
heard daily; not by example, unless it is followed; but only by action,
often caused by the related feeling, can a moral habit be formed. And
yet this truth, which Mental Science clearly teaches, and which is in
harmony with familiar sayings, is a truth wholly ignored in current
educational fanaticisms.
There is ignored, too, the correlative truth; and ignoring it threat
ens results still more disastrous. While we see an expectation of ben
efits which the means used cannot achieve, we see no consciousness of
injuries which will be entailed by these means. As usually happens
with those absorbed in the eager pursuit of some good by govern
mental action, there is a blindness to the evil reaction on the natures
of citizens. Already the natures of citizens have suffered from kin
dred reactions, due to actions set up centuries ago ; and now the mis
chievous effects are to be increased by further such reactions.
The English people are complained of as improvident. Very few
of them lay by in anticipation of times when work is slack; and the
general testimony is that higher wages commonly result only in more
extravagant living or in drinking to greater excess. As we saw a
while since, they neglect opportunities of becoming shareholders in
the companies they are engaged under; and those who are most anx
ious for their welfare despair on finding how little they do to raise
themselves when they have the means. This tendency to seize imme
diate gratification regardless of future penalty is commented on as
characteristic of the English people ; and, contrasts between them and
their Continental neighbors having been drawn, surprise is expressed
that such contrasts should exist. Improvidence is spoken of as an in
explicable trait of the race—no regard being paid to the fact that
races with which it is compared are allied in blood. The people of
Norway are economical and extremely prudent. The Danes, too, are
thrifty; and Defoe, commenting on the extravagance of his countrymen,
says that a Dutchman gets rich on wages out of which an Englishman
but just lives. So, too, if we take the modern Germans. Alike by
the complaints of the Americans, that the Germans are ousting them
from their own businesses by working hard and living cheaply, and by
the success here of German traders and the preference shown for Ger
man waiters, we are taught that in other divisions of the Teutonic race
there is nothing like this lack of self-control. Nor can we ascribe to
such portion of Norman blood as exists among us this peculiar trait: de
scendants of the Normans in France are industrious and saving. Why,
then, should the English people be improvident ? If we seek explana
tion in their remote lineage, we find none; but, if we seek it in the
social conditions to which they have been subject, we find a sufficient
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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
explanation. The English are improvident because they have been
for ages disciplined in improvidence. Extravagance has been made
habitual by shielding them from the sharp penalties extravagance
brings. Carefulness has been discouraged by continually showing to
the careful that those who were careless did as well as, or better than,
themselves. Nay, there have been positive penalties on carefulness.
Laborers working hard and paying their way have constantly found
themselves called on to help in supporting the idle around them ; have
had their goods taken under distress-warrants that paupers might be
fed; and eventually have found themselves and their children reduced
also to pauperism. Well-conducted poor women, supporting them
selves without aid or encouragement, have seen the ill-conducted re
ceiving parish-pay for their illegitimate children. Nay, to such ex
tremes has the process gone, that women with many illegitimate
children, getting from the rates a weekly sum for each, have been
chosen as wives by men who wanted the sums thus derived ! Genera
tion after generation the honest and independent, not marrying till
they had means, and striving to bring up their families without assist
ance, have been saddled with extra burdens, and hindered from leav
ing a desirable posterity; while the dissolute and the idle, especially
when given to that lying and servility by which those in authority are
deluded, have been helped to produce and to rear progeny, charac
terized, like themselves, by absence of the mental traits needed for
good citizenship. And then, after centuries during which we have
been breeding the race as much as possible from the improvident, and
repressing the multiplication of the provident, we lift our hands and
exclaim at the recklessness our people exhibit! If men, who, for a
score of generations, had by preference bred from their worst-tem
pered horses and their least-sagacious dogs, were then to wonder be
cause their horses were vicious and their dogs stupid, we should think
the absurdity of their policy paralleled only by the absurdity of their
astonishment; but human beings instead of inferior animals being in
question, no absurdity is seen either in the policy or in the astonish
ment.
And now something more serious happens than the overlooking of
these evils wrought on men’s natures by centuries of demoralizing in
fluences. We are deliberately establishing further such influences.
Having, as much as we could, suspended the civilizing discipline of
an industrial life so carried on as to achieve self-maintenance without in
jury to others, we now proceed to suspend that civilizing discipline in
another direction. Having in successive generations done our best to
diminish the sense of responsibility, by warding off evils which disre
gard of responsibility brings, we now carry the policy further by re
lieving parents from certain other responsibilities which, in the order
of Nature, fall on them. By way of checking recklessness, and dis
couraging improvident marriages, and raising the conception of duty,
�MENTAL SCIENCE AND SOCIOLOGY.
687
we are diffusing the belief that it is not the concern of parents to fit
their children for the business of life; but that the nation is bound to
do this. Everywhere there is a tacit enunciation of the marvellous
doctrine that citizens are not responsible individually for the bringing
up each of his own children, but that these same citizens, incorporated
into a society, are each of them responsible for the bringing up of
everybody else’s children I The obligation does not fall upon A in
his capacity of father to rear the minds as well as the bodies of his
offspring; but in his capacity of citizen there does fall on him the ob
ligation of mentally rearing the offspring of B, C, D, and the rest, who
similarly have their direct parental obligations made secondary to
their indirect obligations to children not their own ! Already it is
estimated that, as matters are now being arranged, parents will soon
pay in school-fees for their own children only one-sixth of the amount
which is paid by them through taxes, rates, and voluntary contribu
tions, for children at large: in terms of money, the claims of children
at large to their care will be taken as six times the claim of their own
children 1 And, if, looking back forty years, we observe the growth
of the public claim versus the private claim, we may infer that the
private claim will presently be absorbed wholly. Already the correl
ative theory is becoming so definite and positive that you meet with
the notion, uttered as though it were an unquestionable truth, that
criminals are “ society’s failures.” Presently it will be seen that, since
good bodily development, as well as good mental development, is a
prerequisite to good citizenship (for without it the citizen cannot main
tain himself, and so avoid wrong-doing), society is responsible also for
the proper feeding and clothing of children : indeed, in school-board
discussions, there is already an occasional admission that no logicallydefensible halting-place can be found between the two. And so we
are progressing toward the wonderful notion, here and there finding
tacit expression, that people are to marry when they feel inclined, and
other people are to take the consequences !
And this is thought to be the policy conducive to improvement of
behavior. Men who have been made improvident by shielding them
from many of the evil results of improvidence are now to be made
more provident by further shielding them from the evil results of im
providence. Having had their self-control decreased by social ar
rangements which lessened the need for self-control, other social ar
rangements are devised which will make self-control still less needful:
and it is hoped so to make self-control greater. This expectation is
absolutely at variance with the whole order of things. Life of every
kind, human included, proceeds on an exactly-opposite principle. All
lower types of beings show us that the rearing of offspring affords the
highest discipline for the faculties. The. parental instinct is every
where that which calls out the energies most persistently, and in the
greatest degree exercises the intelligence. The self-sacrifice and the
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sagacity which inferior creatures display in the care of their young
are often commented upon; and every one may see that parenthood
produces a mental exaltation not otherwise producible. That it is so
among mankind is daily proved. Continually we remark that men
who were random grow steady when they have children to provide
for; and vain, thoughtless girls, becoming mothers, begin to show
higher feelings, and capacities that were not before drawn out. In
both there is a daily discipline in unselfishness, in industry, in fore
sight. The parental relation strengthens from hour to hour the habit
of postponing immediate ease and egoistic pleasure to the altruistic
pleasure obtained by furthering the welfare of offspring. There is a
frequent subordination of the claims of self to the claims of fellow
beings ; and by no other agency can the practice of this subordination
be so effectually secured. Not, then, by a decreased, but by an in
creased, sense of parental responsibility is self-control to be made
greater and recklessness to be checked. And yet the policy now so
earnestly and undoubtingly pursued is one which will inevitably di
minish the sense of parental responsibility. This all-important dis
cipline of parents’ emotions is to be weakened that children may get
reading, and grammar, and geography, more generally than they would
otherwise do. A superficial intellectualization is to be secured at the
cost of a deep-seated demoralization.
Few, I suppose, will deliberately assert that information is impor
tant and character relatively unimportant. Every one observes from
time to time how much more valuable to himself and others is the
workman who, though unable to read, is diligent, sober, and honest,
than is the well-taught workman who breaks his engagements, spends
days in drinking, and neglects his family. And, comparing members
of the upper classes, no one doubts that the spendthrift or the gam
bler, however good his intellectual training, is inferior as a social unit
to the man who, not having passed through the approved curriculum,
nevertheless prospers by performing well the work he undertakes, and
provides for his children instead of leaving them in poverty to the
care of relatives. That is to say, looking at the matter in the con
crete, all see that, for social welfare, good character is more important
than much knowledge. And yet the manifest corollary is not drawn.
What effect will be produced on character by artificial appliances for
spreading knowledge is not asked. Of the ends to be kept in view by
the legislator, all are unimportant compared with the end of char
acter-making; and yet character-making is an end wholly unrecog
nized.
Let it be seen that the future of a nation depends on the natures
of its units ; that their natures are inevitably modified in adaptation
to the conditions in which they are placed; that the feelings called
into play by these conditions will strengthen, while those which have
diminished demands on them will dwindle; and it will be seen that
�A NATIONAL UNIVERSITY.
689
the bettering of conduct can be effected, not by insisting on maxims
of good conduct, still less by mere intellectual culture, but only by
that daily exercise of the higher sentiments and repression of the
lower, which results from keeping men subordinate to the requirements
of orderly social life—letting them suffer the inevitable penalties of
breaking these requirements, and reap the benefits of conforming to
them. This alone is national education.
A NATIONAL UNIVERSITY.1
By CHARLES W. ELIOT,
PRESIDENT OF HARVARD
COLLEGE.
TURN next to my third topic, the true policy of our government
as regards university instruction. In almost all the writings about
a nation’s university, and of course in the two Senate bills now under
discussion, there will be found the implication, if not the express as
sertion, that it is somehow the duty of our government to maintain a
magnificent university. This assumption is the foundation upon which
rest the ambitious projects before us, and many similar schemes. Let
me try to demonstrate that the foundation is itself unsound.
The general notion that a beneficent government should provide
and control an elaborate organization for teaching, just as it maintains
an army, a navy, or a post-office, is of European origin, being a legiti
mate corollary to the theory of government by divine right. It is
said that the state is a person having a conscience and a moral respon
sibility ; that the government is the visible representative of a peo
ple’s civilization, and the guardian of its honor and its morals, and
should be the embodiment of all that is high and good in the people’s
character and aspirations. This moral person, this corporate repre
sentative of a Christian nation, has high duties and functions com
mensurate with its great powers, and none more imperative than that
of diffusing knowledge and advancing science.
I desire to state this argument for the conduct of high educational
institutions by government, as a matter of abstract duty, with all the
force which belongs to it; for, under an endless variety of thin dis
guises, and with all sorts of amplifications and dilutions, it is a staple
commodity with writers upon the relation of government to educa
tion. The conception of government upon which this argument is
I
1 Closing argument of a report by President Eliot to the National Educational Asso
ciation at its recent session in Elmira. The first part of the report gives an account of
what had been done by the Association about the project of a national university since
1869 ; and the second part examines the two bills on the subject which were brought
before Congress in 1872.
vol. hi.—44
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based is obsolescent everywhere. In a free community the govern
ment does not hold this parental, or patriarchal—I should better say
godlike—position. Our government is a group of servants appointed
to do certain difficult and important work. It is not the guardian of
the nation’s morals ; it does not necessarily represent the best virtue
of the republic, and is not responsible for the national character, being
itself one of the products of that character. The doctrine of state
personality and conscience, and the whole argument of the dignity
and moral elevation of a Christian nation’s government as the basis
of government duties, are natural enough under grace-of-God gov
ernments, but they find no ground of practical application to modern
republican confederations; they have no bearing on governments con
sidered as purely human agencies with defined powers and limited re
sponsibilities. Moreover, for most Americans these arguments prove
a great deal too much ; for, if they have the least tendency to persuade
us that government should direct any part of secular education, with
how much greater force do they apply to the conduct by government
of the religious education of the people ! These propositions are, in
deed, the main arguments for an established church. Religion is the
supreme human interest, government is the supreme human organiza
tion ; therefore, government ought to take care for religion, and a
Christian government should maintain distinctively Christian religious
institutions. This is not theory alone ; it is the practice of all Christen
dom, except in America and Switzerland. Now, we do not admit it
to be our duty to establish a national church. We believe not only
that our people are more religious than many nations which have es
tablished churches, but also that they are far more religious under
their own voluntary system than they would be under any government
establishment of religion. We do not admit for a moment that estab
lishment or no establishment is synonymous with national piety or
impiety. Now, if a beneficent Christian government may rightly
leave the jfeople to provide themselves with religious institutions,
surely it may leave them to provide suitable universities for the edu
cation of their youth. And here again the question of national uni
versity or no national university is by no means synonymous with the
question, Shall the country have good university education or not?
The only question is, Shall we have a university supported and con
trolled by government, or shall we continue to rely upon universities
supported and controlled by other agencies ?
There is, then, no foundation whatever for the assumption that it
is the duty of our government to establish a national university. I
venture to state one broad reason why our government should not es
tablish and maintain a university. If the people of the United States
have any special destiny, any peculiar function in the world, it is to
try to work out under extraordinarily favorable circumstances the
problem of free institutions for a heterogeneous, rich, multitudinous
�A NATIONAL UNIVERSITY.
691
population, spread over a vast territory. We, indeed, want to breed
scholars, artists, poets, historians, novelists, engineers, physicians,
jurists, theologians, and orators; but, first of all, we want to breed a
race of independent, self-reliant freemen, capable of helping, guiding,
and governing themselves. Now, the habit of being helped by the
government, even if it be to things good in themselves—to churches,
universities, and railroads—is a most insidious and irresistible enemy
of republicanism ; for the very essence of republicanism is self-reliance.
With the Continental nations of Europe it is an axiom that the gov
ernment is to do every thing, and is responsible for every thing. The
French have no word for “ public spirit,” for the reason that the sen
timent is unknown to them. This abject dependence on the govern
ment is an accursed inheritance from the days of the divine right of
kings. Americans, on the contrary, maintain precisely the opposite
theory—namely, that government is to do nothing not expressly as
signed it to do, that it is to perform no function which any private
agency can perform as well, and that it is not to do a public good
even, unless that good be otherwise unattainable. It is hardly too
much to say that this doctrine is the foundation of our public liberty.
So long as the people are really free they will maintain it in theory
and in practice. During the war of the rebellion we got accustomed
to seeing the government spend vast sums of money and put forth
vast efforts, and we asked ourselves, Why should not some of these
great resources and powers be applied to works of peace, to creation
as well as to destruction? So we subsidized railroads and steamship
companies, and agricultural colleges, and now it is proposed to sub
sidize a university. The fatal objection to this subsidizing process is
that it saps the foundations of public liberty. The only adequate se
curities of public liberty are the national habits, traditions, and char
acter, acquired and accumulated in the practice of liberty and self
control. Interrupt these traditions, break up these habits or cultivate
the opposite ones, or poison that national character, and public liberty
will suddenly be found defenceless. We deceive ourselves danger
ously when we think or speak as if education, whether primary or
university, could guarantee republican institutions. Education can
do no such thing. A republican people should, indeed, be educated
and intelligent; but it by no means follows that an educated and in
telligent people will be republican. Do I seem to conjure up imaginary
evils to follow from this beneficent establishment of a superb national
university? We teachers should be the last people to forget the
sound advice—obsta principiis. A drop of water will put out a spark
which otherwise would have kindled a conflagration that rivers could
not quench.
Let us cling fast to the genuine American method—the old Massachu
setts method—in the matter of public instruction. The essential feat
ures of that system are local taxes for universal elementary education
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voted by the citizens themselves, local elective boards to spend the money
raised by taxation and control the schools, and for the higher grades
of instruction permanent endowments administered by incorporated
bodies of trustees. This is the American voluntary system, in sharp
contrast with the military, despotic organization of public instruction
which prevails in Prussia and most other states of Continental Europe.
Both systems have peculiar advantages, the crowning advantage of
the American method being that it breeds freemen. Our ancestors
well understood the principle that, to make a people free and self-re
liant, it is necessary to let them take care of themselves, even if they
do not take quite as good care of themselves as some superior power
might.
And now, finally, let us ask what should make a university at the
capital of the United States, established and supported by the Gen
eral Government, more national than any other American university.
It might be larger and richer than any other, and it might not be;
but certainly it could not have a monopoly of patriotism or of catho
licity, or of literary or scientific enthusiasm. There are an attractive
comprehensiveness and a suggestion of public spirit and love of coun
try in the term “ national; ” but, after all, the adjective only narrows
and belittles the noble conception contained in the word “ university.”
Letters, science, art, philosophy, medicine, law, and theology, are
larger and more enduring than nations. There is something childish
in this uneasy hankering for a big university in America, as there is
also in that impatient longing for a distinctive American literature
which we so often hear expressed. As American life grows more
various and richer in sentiment, passion, thought, and accumulated ex
perience, American literature will become richer and more abounding,
and in that better day let us hope that there will be found several
universities in America, though by no means one in each State, as free,
liberal, rich, national, and glorious, as the warmest advocate of a
single crowning university at the national capital could imagine his
desired institution to become.
AGASSIZ AND DARWINISM.
By JOHN FISKE,
BEOENTLY LECTITBER ON PHILOSOPHY AT HABVABD UNIVERSITY.
NE Friday morning, a few weeks ago, as I was looking over the
Nation, my eye fell upon an advertisement, inserted by the
proprietors of the New-York Tribune, announcing the final destruc
tion of Darwinism. What especially riveted my attention was the pe
culiar style of the announcement: “ The Darwinian Theory utterly de
O
�AGASSIZ AND DARWINISM.
693
molished ” (or words to that effect) “ by Agassiz Himself ! ” Whether
from accident or design, the type-setter’s choice of Roman capitals
was very happy. Upon many readers the effect must have been tre
mendous ; and quite possibly there may be some who, without further
investigation, will carry to their dying day the opinion that it is all
over with the Darwinian theory, since “ Agassiz Himself” has re
futed it.
Upon me the effect was such as to make me lay down my paper
and ask myself: Can it be that we have, after all, a sort of scientific
pope among us ? Has it come to this, that the dicta of some one
“servant and interpreter of Nature” are to be accepted as final, even
against the better judgment of the majority of his compeers ? In
short, who is Agassiz himself, that he should thus single-handed
have demolished the stoutest edifice which observation and deduc
tion have reared since the day when Newton built to such good pur
pose ?
Prof. Agassiz is a naturalist who is justly world-renowned for his
achievements. His contributions to geology, to paleontology, and to
systematic zoology, have been such as to place him in a very high rank
among contemporary naturalists. Not quite in the highest place, I
should say; for, apart from all questions of theory, it is probable that
Mr. Darwin’s gigantic industry, his wonderful thoroughness and ac
curacy as an observer, and his unrivalled fertility of suggestion, will
cause him in the future to be ranked along with Aristotle, Linnaeus,
and Cuvier; and upon this high level we cannot place Prof. Agassiz.
Leaving Mr. Darwin out of the account, we may say that Prof. Agas
siz stands in the first rank of contemporary naturalists. But any ex
ceptional supremacy in this first rank can by no means be claimed for
him. Both for learning and for sagacity, the names of Gray, Wyman,
Huxley, Hooker, Wallace, Lubbock, Lyell, Vogt, Haeckel, and Gegenbaur, are quite as illustrious as the name of Agassiz; and we may
note, in passing, that these are the names of men who openly indorse
and defend the Darwinian theory.
Possibly, however, there are some who will not be inclined to ac
cept the estimates made in the foregoing paragraph. No doubt there
are many people in this country who have long accustomed themselves
to regard Prof. Agassiz not simply as one among a dozen or twenty
living naturalists of the highest rank, but as occupying a solitary po
sition as the greatest of all living naturalists—as a kind of second
Cuvier, for example. There is, to the popular eye, a halo about the
name of Agassiz which there is not about the name of Gray; though,
if there is any man now living in America, of whom America might,
justly boast as her chief ornament and pride, so far as science is con
cerned, that man is unquestionably Prof. Asa Gray. Now, this
greater popular fame of Agassiz is due to the fact that he is a Euro
pean who cast in his lot with us at a time when we were wont to over-
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rate foreign importations of whatever sort. As a European, there
fore, he outshines such men as Profs. Gray and Wyman, and, as a man
whom we know, he outshines other Europeans, like Haeckel and Gegenbaur, whose acquaintance we happen not to have made; just as
Rubinstein, whose fame has filled the American newspapers, outshines
Bulow (probably his equal as a pianist), who has not yet visited this
country. In this way Prof. Agassiz has acquired a reputation in
America which is greater than his reputation in Europe, and which is
greater than his achievements—admirable as they are—would be able,
on trial, to sustain.
And now I come to my first point. Admitting for Prof. Agassiz
all the wonderful greatness as a naturalist with which the vague
sentiments of the uneducated multitude in this country would accredit
him ; admitting, in other words, that he is the greatest of naturalists,
and not one among a dozen or twenty equals; it must still be asked,
why should his rejection of Darwinism be regarded as conclusively
fatal to the Darwinian theory ? The history of science supplies us
with many an instance in which a new and unpopular theory has been
vehemently opposed by those whom one would at first suppose most
competent to judge of its merits, and has nevertheless gained the vic
tory. Dr. Draper brings a terrible indictment against Bacon for re
jecting the Copernican theory, and refusing to profit by the discov
eries of Gilbert in magnetism. This should not be allowed to detract
from Bacon’s real greatness, any more than the rejection of Darwinism
should be allowed to detract from the real merit of Agassiz. Great men
must be measured by their positive achievements rather than by their
negative shortcomings, otherwise they might all have to step down from
their pedestals. Leibnitz rejected Newton’s law of gravitation ; Harvey
saw nothing but foolishness in Aselli’s discovery of the lacteals ; Magen
die ridiculed the great work in which the younger Geoffroy Saint-IIilaire
began to investigate the conditions of nutrition which determine the
birth of monsters ; and when Young, Fresnel, and Malus, completed
the demonstration of that undulatory theory of light which has made
their names immortal, Laplace, nevertheless, the greatest mathemati
cian of the age, persisted until his dying day in heaping contumely
upon these eminent men and upon their arguments. Nay, even Cu
vier—the teacher whom Prof. Agassiz so justly reveres—did not Cuvier
adhere to the last to the grotesque theory of “ pre-formation,” and reject
the true theory of “ epigenesis,” which C. F. Wolff, even before Baer,
had placed upon a scientific basis ? Supposing, then, that the Dar
winian theory is rejected by Agassiz, this fact is no more decisive
against the Darwinian theory than the rejection of Fresnel’s theory
by Laplace was decisive against Fresnel’s theory.
For the facts just cited show that even the wisest and most learned
men are not infallible, and that it will not do to have a papacy where
scientific questions are concerned. Strange as it may at first seem,
�AGASSIZ AND DARWINISM.
695
nothing is more certain than that a man’s opinion may be eminently
fallible, even with reference to matters which might appear to come
directly within the range of his own specialty. Many people, I pre
sume, think that, because Prof. Agassiz has made a specialty of the
study of extinct and living organisms, because he has devoted a long
and industrious life to this study, therefore his opinion with reference
to the relations of present life upon the globe to past life ought to be
at once conclusive. The fallacy of this inference becomes apparent as
soon as we recollect that Profs. Gray, Wyman, Huxley, and Haeckel,
who are equally well qualified to have an opinion on such matters, have
agreed in forming an opinion diametrically opposite to that of Prof.
Agassiz. But the fallacy may be shown independently of any such com
parison. Even if all the foundations of certainty seem to be shaking
beneath us when we say that an expert is not always the best judge of
matters pertaining to his own specialty, we must still say it, for facts
will bear us out in saying it. I have known excellent mathematicians
and astronomers who had not the first word to say about the Nebular
Hypothesis : they had never felt interested in it, had never studied it,
and consequently did not understand it, and could hardly state it cor
rectly. After a while one ceases to be surprised at such things. It is
quite possible for one to study the structure of echinoderms and fishes
during a long life, and yet remain unable to offer a satisfactory opin
ion upon any subject connected with zoology, for the proper treatment
of which there are required some power of generalization and some fa
miliarity with large considerations. Indeed, there are many admirable
experts in natural history, as well as in other studies, who never pay
the slightest heed to questions involving wide-reaching considera
tions ; and who, with all their amazing minuteness of memory con
cerning the metamorphoses of insects and the changes which the em
bryo of a white-fish undergoes from fecundation to maturity, are nev
ertheless unable to see the evidentiary value of the great general facts
of geological succession and geographical distribution, even when it
is thrust directly before their eyes. To such persons, “ science ” means
the collecting of polyps, the dissecting of mollusks, the vivisection of
frogs, the registration of innumerable facts of detail, without regard
to the connected story which all these facts, when put together, have
it in their powei’ to tell. And all putting together of facts, with a
view to elicit this connected story, they are too apt to brand as unsci
entific speculation; forgetting that if Newton had merely occupied
himself with taking observations and measuring celestial distances, in
stead of propounding an audacious hypothesis, and then patiently
verifying it, the law of gravitation might never have been discovered.
Herein lies the explanation of the twice-repeated rejection of Mr.
Darwin’s name by the French Academy of Sciences. The lamentable
decline of science in France since the beginning of the Second Empire
has been most conspicuously marked by the tendency of scientific
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inquirers to occupy themselves exclusively with matters of detail, to
the neglect of wide-reaching generalizations. And the rejection of
Mr. Darwin’s name was justified upon the ground, not that he had
made unscientific generalizations, but that he had been a mere (!) generalizer, instead of a collector of facts. The allegation was, indeed,
incorrect; since Mr. Darwin is as eminent for his industry in collect
ing facts as for his boldness in generalizing. But the form of the
allegation well illustrates the truth of what I have been seeking to
show—that familiarity with the details of a subject does not enable
one to deal with it in the grand style, and elicit new truth from old
facts, unless one also possesses some faculty for penetrating into the
hidden implications of the facts ; or, in other words, some faculty for
philosophizing.
Now, I am far from saying of Prof. Agassiz that he is a mere col
lector of echinoderms and dissector of fishes, with no tact whatever
in philosophizing. He does not stand in the position of those who
think that the end of scientific research is attained when we have
carefully ticketed a few thousand specimens of corals and butterflies,
in much the same spirit as that in which a school-girl collects and clas
sifies autographs or postage-stamps. Along with his indefatigable in
dustry as a collector and observer, Prof. Agassiz has a decided inclina
tion toward general views. However lamentably deficient we may
think him in his ability to discern the hidden implications of facts,
there can be no question that his facts are of little importance to him
save as items in a philosophic scheme. He knows very well—perhaps
almost too well—that the value of facts lies in the conclusions to which
they point. And, accordingly, lack of philosophizing is the last short
coming with which, as a scientific writer, he can be charged. If he
errs on a great scientific question, lying within his own range of inves
tigation, it is not because he refrains steadfastly from all general con
siderations, but because he philosophizes—and philosophizes on un
sound principles. It is because his philosophizing is not a natural
outgrowth from the facts of Nature which lie at his disposal, but is
made up out of sundry traditions of his youth, which, by dint of play
ing upon the associations of ideas which are grouped around certain
combinations of words, have come to usurp the place of observed facts
as a basis for forming conclusions. It is not because he abstains from
generalizing that Prof. Agassiz is unable to appreciate the arguments
by which Mr. Darwin has established his theory, but it is because he
long ago brought his mind to acquiesce in various generalizations, of a
thoroughly unscientific or non-scientific character, with the further
maintenance of which the acceptance of the Darwinian theory is (or
seems to Prof. Agassiz to be) incompatible.
The generalizations which have thus preoccupied Prof. Agassiz’s
mind are purely theological or mythological in their nature. In esti
mating the probable soundness of his opinion upon any scientific ques-
�AGASSIZ AND DARWINISM.
697
tion, it must always be remembered that he is, above all things, a dev
otee of what J's called “ natural theology.” In his discussions concern
ing the character of the relationships between the various members of
the animal kingdom, the foreground of his consciousness is always
completely occupied by theological considerations, to such an extent
that the evidentiary value of scientific facts cannot always get a foot
ing there, and is, consequently, pushed away into the background.
One feels, in reading his writings, that, except when he is narrating
facts with the pure joyfulness of a specialist exulting in the exposition
of his subject (and, when in this mood, he often narrates facts with
which his inferences are wholly incompatible), he never makes a point
without some regard to its bearings upon theological propositions which
his early training has led him to place paramount to all facts of obser
vation whatever. In virtue of this peculiarity of disposition, Prof.
Agassiz has become the welcome ally of those zealous but narrow
minded theologians, in whom the rapid progress of the Darwinian
theory has awakened the easily explicable but totally groundless fear
that the necessary foundations of true religion, or true Christianity,
are imperilled. It is not many years since these very persons re
garded Prof. Agassiz with dread and abhorrence, because of his flat
contradiction of the Bible in his theory of the multiple origin of the
human race. But, now that the doctrine of Evolution has come to be
the unclean thing above all others to be dreaded and abhorred, this
comparatively slight iniquity of Prof. Agassiz has been condoned or
forgotten, and, as the great antagonist of Evolution, he is welcomed
as the defender of the true Church against her foes.
This preference of theological over scientific considerations once
led Prof. Agassiz (if my memory serves me rightly) to use language
very unbecoming in a professed student of Nature. Some seven years
ago he delivered a course of lectures at the Cooper Union, and in one
of these lectures he observed that he preferred the theory which makes
man out a fallen angel to the theory which makes him out an improved
monkey—a remark which was quite naturally greeted with laughter
and applause. But the applause was ill-bestowed, for the remark was
one of the most degrading which a scientific lecturer could make. A
scientific inquirer has no business to have “ preferences.” Such things
are fit only for silly women of society, or for young children who play
with facts, instead of making sober use of them. What matters it
whether we are pleased with the notion of a monkey-ancestry or not ?
The end of scientific research is the discovery of truth, and not the
satisfaction of our whims or fancies, or even of what we are pleased to
call our finer feelings. The proper reason for refusing to accept any
doctrine is, that it is inconsistent with observed facts, or with some
other doctrine which has been firmly established on a basis of fact.
The refusal to entertain a theory because it seems disagreeable or de
grading, is a mark of intellectual cowardice and insincerity. In mat
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ters of scientific inquiry, it is as grave an offence as the letting one’s
note go to protest is in matters of business. In saying these things, I
do not mean to charge Prof. Agassiz with intellectual cowardice and
insincerity, for the remark which I criticise so sharply was not worthy
of him, it did not comport with his real character as a student of sci
ence, and to judge of him by this utterance alone would be to do him
injustice.
It was with the hope of finding some more legitimate objections to
the Darwinian theory that I procured the Tribune's lecture-sheet con
taining Prof. Agassiz’s twelve lectures on the natural foundations of
organic affinity, and diligently searched it from beginning to end. I
believe I am truthful in saying that a good staggering objection would
have been quite welcome to me, just for the sake of the intellectual
stimulus implied in dealing with it, for on this subject my mind was
so thoroughly made up thirteen years ago, that the discussion of it,
as ordinarily conducted, has long since ceased to have any interest for
me. I am just as firmly convinced that the human race is descended
from lower animal forms, as I am that the earth revolves in an elliptical
orbit about the sun. So completely, indeed, is this proposition wrought
in with my whole mental structure, that the negation of it seems to me
utterly nonsensical and void of meaning, and I doubt if my mind is ca
pable of shaping such a negation into a proposition which I could intel
ligently state. To have such deeply-rooted convictions shaken once in
a while is, I believe, a very useful and wdiolesome experiment in men
tal hygiene. That rigidity of mind which prevents the thorough re
vising of our opinions is sure, sooner or later, to come upon all of us ;
but we ought to dread it, as we dread the stagnation of old age or
death. For some such reasons as these, I am sure that I should have
been glad to find, in the course of Prof. Agassiz’s lectures, at least one
powerful argument against the interpretation of organic affinities
which Mr. Darwin has done so much to establish. I should have
been still more glad to find some alternative interpretation proposed
which could deserve to be entertained as scientific in character. I am
sure no task could be more delightful, or more quickening to one’s
energies, than that of comparing two alternative theories upon this
subject, upon which, thus far, only one has ever been propounded
which possesses the marks of a scientific hypothesis. But no such
pleasure or profit is in store for any one who studies these twelve lect
ures of Prof. Agassiz. In all these lectures, there is not a single al
lusion to Mr. Darwin’s name, save once in a citation from another
author; there is not the remotest allusion to any of the arguments by
which Mr. Darwin has contributed most largely to tlie establishment
of the development theory; nay, there is not a single sentence from
which one could learn that Mr. Darwin’s books had ever been written,
or that the theories which they expound had ever taken shape in the
mind of any thinking man. I do not doubt that Prof. Agassiz has, at
�AGASSIZ AND DARWINISM.
699
some time read, or looked over, the “ Origin of Species
but there is
not a word in these lectures which might not have been written by
one who had never heard of that book, or of the arguments which
made the publication of it the beginning of a new epoch in the history
of science.
Not only is it that Prof. Agassiz does not attack the Darwinian
theory in these lectures; it is also that, until the ninth lecture, he does
not allude to the doctrine of Evolution in any way. TIis first eight
lectures consist mostly in an account of the development of the embryo
in various animals; and in this we have a pure description of facts
with which no one certainly will feel like quarrelling, so far as theories
are concerned. He goes to work, very much as Max Müller does, in
lecturing about the science of language, when he gives you a maximum
of interesting etymologies and a minimum of real philosophizing which
goes to the bottom of things. But Prof. Agassiz is not so interesting
or so stimulating in his discourse as Max, Müller. He does not lead us
into pleasant fields of illustration, where we would fain tarry longer,
forgetting the main purpose of the discussion in our delight at the un
essential matters which occupy our attention. On the contrary, it
seems to me that Prof. Agassiz’s explanation of the development of
eggs is rather tedious and dry, and by no means richly fraught with
novel suggestions. The exposition is a commonplace one, such as is
good for students in the Museum of Comparative Zoology, who are
beginning to study embryology, but there are no features which make
it especially interesting or instructive to any one who has already
served an apprenticeship in these matters.
In his ninth lecture, Prof. Agassiz begins to make some allusion
to the development theory—not to the development theory as it now
stands since the publication of the “ Origin of Species,” but to the de
velopment theory as it stood in the days when Prof. Agassiz was a
young student, when Cuvier and the elder Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire
waged fierce warfare in the French Academy, and when the aged
Goethe, sanest and wisest of men, foresaw in the issue of that battle
the speedy triumph of the development theory. Beyond this point, I
will venture to say, Prof. Agassiz has never travelled. The doctrine
of Evolution is still, to him, what it was in those early days ; and all
the discoveries and reasonings of Mr. Darwin have passed by him un
heeded and unnoticed. He arrived too early at that rigidity of mind
which prevents us from properly comprehending new theories, and
which we should all of us dread.
What, now, is the doctrine which Prof. Agassiz begins to attack,
in his ninth lecture, and what is the doctrine which he would propose
as a substitute ? The doctrine which he attacks is simply this—that
all organic beings have come into existence through some natural pro
cess of causation ; and the doctrine which he defends is just this—that
all organic beings, as classed in species, have come into existence at
�700
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
the outset by means of some act of which our ordinary notions of cause
and effect can give no account whatever. For every one of the indi
viduals of which a species is made up, he will admit the adequacy of
the ordinary process of generation ; but for the species as a whole, this
process seems to him inadequate, and he flies at once to that refuge
of inconsequent and timid minds—miracle !
This is really just what Prof. Agassiz’s theory of the origin of spe
cific forms amounts to, and this is the reason why, in spite of grave
heresy on minor points, he is now regarded by the evangelical Church
as one of its chief champions. Instead of the natural process of gen
eration—which is the only process by which we have ever known or
ganic beings to be produced—he would fain set up some unknown mys
terious process, the nature of which he is careful not to define, but for
which he endeavors to persuade us that we have a fair equivalent in
sonorous phrases concerning “ creative will,” “ free action of an intel
ligent mind,” and so on. In thus postponing considerations of pure
science to considerations of “ natural theology,” I have no doubt Prof.
Agassiz is actuated by a praiseworthy desire to do something for the
glory of that Power of which the phenomenal universe is the perpetual
but ever-changing manifestation. But how futile is such an attempt
as this I How contrary to common-sense it is to say that a species is
produced, not by the action of blind natural forces, but by an intelli
gent will! For, although this most prominent of all facts seems to be
oftenest overlooked by theologians and others whom it most especially
concerns, we are all the time, day by day and year by year, in each
and every event of our lives, having experience of the workings of
that Divine Power which, whether we attribute to it “ intelligent will ”
or not, is unquestionably the one active agent in all the dynamic phe
nomena of Nature. Little as we know of the intrinsic nature of this
Omnipresent Power, which, in our poor human talk, we call God,
we do at least know, by daily and hourly experience, what is the char
acter of its working. The whole experience of our lives teaches us
that this Power works after a method which, in our scholastic expression,
we call the method of cause and effect, or the method of natural law.
Traditions of a barbarous and uncultivated age, in which mere gro
tesque associations of thoughts were mistaken for facts, have told us
that this Power has, at various times in the past, worked in a different
way—causing effects to appear without cognizable antecedents, even
as Aladdin’s palace rose in all its wondrous magnificence, without
sound of carpenter’s hammer or mason’s chisel, in a single night. But
about such modes of divine action we know nothing whatever from
experience; and the awakening of literary criticism, in modern times,
has taught us to distrust all such accounts of divine action which con
flict with the lessons we learn from what is ever going on round
about us. So far as we know aught concerning the works of God,
which are being performed in us, through us, and around us, during
�AGASSIZ AND DARWINISM.
701
every moment of that conscious intelligence which enables us to bear
witness to them, we know they are works from which the essential re
lation of a given effect to its adequate cause is never absent. And for
this reason, if we view the matter in pure accordance with experience,
we are led to maintain that the antagonism or contrariety which seems
to exist in Prof. Agassiz’s mind between the action of God and the
action of natural forces is nothing but a figment of that ancestral im
agination from which the lessons which shaped Prof. Agassiz’s ways
of thinking were derived. So far as experience can tell us any thing,
it tells us that divine action is the action of natural forces; for, if we
refuse to accept this conclusion, what have we to do but retreat to the
confession that we have no experience of divine action whatever, and
that the works of God have been made manifest only to those who
lived in that unknown time when Aladdin’s palaces were built, and
when species were created, in a single night, without the intervention
of any natural process ?
Trusting, then, in this universal teaching of experience, let us for
a moment face fairly the problem which the existence of men upon the
earth presents to us. Here is actually existing a group of organisms,
which we call the human race. Either it has existed eternally, or
some combination of circumstances has determined its coming into
existence. The first alternative is maintained by no one, and our
astronomical knowledge of the past career of our planet is sufficient
decisively to exclude it. There is no doubt that at some time in the
past the human race did not exist, and that its gradual or sudden
coming into existence was determined by some combination of circum
stances. Now, when Prof. Agassiz asks us to see, in this origination
of mankind, the working of a Divine Power, we acquiesce in all rever
ence. But when he asks us to see in this origination of mankind the
working of a Divine Power, instead of the working of natural causes,
we do not acquiesce, because, so far as experience has taught us any
thing, it has taught us that Divine Power never works except by the
way of natural causation. Experience tells us that God causes Alad
din’s palaces to come into existence gradually, through the coopera
tion of countless minute antecedents. And it tells us, most emphati
cally, that such structures do not come into existence without an
adequate array of antecedents, no matter what the Arabian Nights
may tell us to the contrary.
Now, when Prof. Agassiz asks us to believe that species have come
into existence by means of a special creative fiat, and not through
the operation of what are called natural causes, we reply that his
request is mere inanity and nonsense. We have no reason to suppose
that any creature like a man, or any other vertebrate, or articulate, or
mollusk, ever came into existence by any other process than the
familar process of physical generation. To ask us to believe in any
other process is to ask us to abandon the experience which we have
�702
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
for the chimeras which we had best not seek to acquire. But Prof.
Agassiz does not even suggest any other process for our acceptance.
He simply retreats upon his empty phrases, “ creative will,” the “ free
workings of an intelligent mind,” and so on. Now, in his second
course of lectures, I hope he will proceed to tell us, not necessarily how
“ creative will ” actually operated in bringing forth a new species, but
how it may conceivably have operated, save through the process of
physical generation, which we know. In his “ Essay on Classifica
tion,” I remember a passage in which he rightly rejects the notion that
any species has arisen from a single pair of parents, and propounds the
formula : “ Pines have originated in forests, heaths in heather, grasses
in prairies, bees in hives, herrings in shoals, buffaloes in herds, men in
nations.” Now, when Prof. Agassiz asserts that men originated in
nations, by some other process than that of physical generation, what
does he mean ? Does he mean that men dropped down from the sky ?
Does he mean that the untold millions of organic particles which make
up a man all rushed together from the four quarters of the compass,
and proceeded, spontaneously or by virtue of some divine sorcery, to
aggregate themselves into the infinitely complex organs and tissues
of the human body, with all their wondrous and well-defined apti
tudes ? It is time that this question should be faced, by Prof. Agassiz
and those who agree with him, without further shirking. Instead of
grandiloquent phrases about the “ free action of an intelligent mind,”
let us have something like a candid suggestion of some process, other
than that of physical generation, by which a creature like man can
even be imagined to have come into existence. When the time comes
for answering this question, we shall find that even Prof. Agassiz
is utterly dumb and helpless. The sonorous phrase “ special creation,”
in which he has so long taken refuge, is nothing but a synthesis of
vocal sounds which covers and, to some minds, conceals a thoroughly
idiotic absence of sense or significance. To say that “ Abracadabra
is not a genial corkscrew,” is to make a statement quite as full of mean
ing as the statement that species have originated by “ special crea
tion.”
The purely theological (or theologico-metaphysical and at all
events unscientific) character of Prof. Agassiz’s objections to the de
velopment theory is sufficiently shown by the fact that, in the fore
going paragraphs, I have considered whatever of any account there is
in his lectures which can be regarded as an objection. Arguments
against the development theory such objections cannot be called : they
are, at their very best, nothing but expressions of fear and dislike.
The only remark which I have been able to find, worthy of being
dignified as an argument, is the following: “We see that fishes are
lowest, that reptiles are higher, that birds have a superior organization
to both, and that mammals, with man at their head, are highest. The
phases of development which a quadruped undergoes, in his embryonic
�AGASSIZ AND DARWINISM.
7°3
growth, recall this gradation. He has a fish-like, a reptile-like stage
before he shows unmistakable mammal-like features. We do not on
this account suppose a quadruped grows out of a fish in our time, for
this simple reason, that we live among quadrupeds and fishes, and we
know that no such thing takes place. But resemblances of the same
kind, separated by geological ages, allow play for the imagination, and
for inference unchecked by observation.”
I do not believe that Prof. Agassiz’s worst enemy—if he ever had
an enemy—could have been so hard-hearted as to wish for* him the
direful catastrophe into which this wonderful piece of argument has
plunged him irretrievably. For the question must at once suggest
itself to every reader at all familiar with the subject, If Prof. Agassiz
supposes that the development theory, as held nowadays, implies that
a quadruped was ever the direct issue of a fish, of what possible value
can his opinion be as regards the development theory in any way ?
If I may speak frankly, as I have indeed been doing from the out
set, I will say that, as regards the Darwinian theory, Prof. Agassiz
seems to me to be hopelessly behind the age. I have never yet come
across the first indication that he knows what the Darwinian theory is.
Against the development theory, as it was taught him by the discus
sions of forty years ago, he is fond of uttering, I will not say argu
ments, but expressions of dislike. With the modern development
theory, with the circumstances of variation, heredity, and natural se
lection, he never, in any of his writings, betrays the slightest acquaint
ance. Against a mere man of straw of his own devising, he indus
triously hurls anathemas of a quasi-theological character. But any
thing like a scientific examination of the character and limits of the
agency of natural selection in modifying the appearance and structure
of a species, any thing like such an examination as is to be found in
the interesting work of Mr. St. George Mivart, he has never yet
brought forth.
Now, when Prof. Agassiz fairly comes to an issue, if he ever does, and
undertakes to refute the Darwinian theory, these are some of the ques
tions which he will have to answer: 1. If all organisms are not asso
ciated through the bonds of common descent, why is it that the facts
of classification are just such as they would have been had they been
due to such a common descent ? 2. Why does a mammal always
begin to develop as if it were going to become a fish, and then, chang
ing its tactics, proceed as if it were going to become a reptile or bird,
and only after great delay and circumlocution take the direct road
toward mammality ? In answer to this, we do not care to be told that
a mammal never was the son of a fish, because we know that already ;
nor do we care to hear any more about the “ free manifestations of an
intelligent mind,” because we have had quite enough of metaphysical
phrases which do not contain a description of some actual or imagi
nable process. We want to know how this state of things can be sci-
�7°4
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
entifically interpreted save on the hypothesis of a common ultimate
origin for mammals, birds, reptiles, and fishes. 3. What is the mean
ing of such facts as the homologies which exist between corresponding
parts of organisms constructed on the same type ? Why does the
black salamander retain fully-developed gills which he never uses, and
what is the significance of rudimentary and aborted organs in gen
eral ? Again I say, we do not want to hear about “ uniformity of de
sign ” and “ reminiscences of a plan,” and so on, but we wish to know
how this* state of things was physically brought about, save by com
munity of descent. 4. Why is it that the facts of geological succes
sion and geographical distribution so clearly indicate community of
descent, unless there has actually been community of descent? Why
have marsupials in Australia followed after other marsupials, and
edentata in South America followed after other edentata, with such
remarkable regularity, unless the bond which unites present with past
ages be the well-known, the only known, and the only imaginable bond
of physical generation ? Why are the fauna and flora of each geologic
epoch in general intermediate in character between the flora and fauna
of the epochs immediately preceding and succeeding? And, 5. What
are we to do with the great fact of extinction if we reject Mr. Dar
win’s explanations ? When a race is extinguished, is it because of a
universal deluge, or because of the “ free manifestations of an intelli
gent mind ? ” For surely Prof. Agassiz will not attribute such a sol
emn result to such ignoble causes as insufficiency of food or any other
of the thousand causes, “ blindly mechanical,” which conspire to make
a species succumb in the struggle for life.
And here the phrase, “ struggle for life,” reminds me of yet an
other difficult task which Prof. Agassiz will have before him when he
comes to undertake the refutation of Darwinism in earnest. He will
have to explain away the enormous multitude of facts which show that
there is a struggle for life in which the fittest survive ; or he will at
any rate have to show in what imaginable way an organic type can
remain constant in all its features through countless ages under the
influence of such circumstances, unless by taking into the account the
Darwinian interpretation of persistent types offered by Prof. Huxley.
But I will desist from further enumeration of the difficulties which
surround this task which Prof. Agassiz has not undertaken, and is
not likely ever to undertake. For the direct grappling with that com
plicated array of theorems which the genius of such men as Darwin
and Spencer and their companions has established on a firm basis of
observation and deduction, Prof. Agassiz seems in these lectures hardly
better qualified than a child is qualified for improving the methods of
the integral calculus. These questions have begun to occupy earnest
thinkers since the period when his mind acquired that rigidity which
prevents the revising of one’s opinions. The marvellous flexibility of
thought with which Sir Charles Lyell so gracefully abandoned his an-
�PRIMARY CONCEPTS OF MODERN SCIENCE.
705
tiquated position, Prof. Agassiz is never likely to show. This is
largely because Lyell has always been a thinker of purely scientific
habit, while Agassiz has long been accustomed to making profoundly
dark metaphysical phrases do the work which properly belongs to
observation and deduction. But, however we may best account for
these idiosyncrasies, it remains most probable among those facts which
are still future, that Prof. Agassiz will never advance any more crush
ing refutation of the Darwinian theory than the simple expression of
his personal dislike for “ mechanical agencies,” and his belief in the
“ free manifestations of an intelligent mind.” Were he only to be left
to himself, such expressions of personal preference could not mar the
pleasure with which we often read his exposition of purely scientific
truths. But when he is brought before the public as the destroyer of
a theory, the elements of which he has never yet given any sign of
having mastered, he is placed in a false position, which would be lu
dicrous could he be supposed to have sought it, and which is, at all
events, unworthy of his eminent fame.
m-n-TT. nuTWAuv nnYPPPTR OF MODERN PHYSICAL
ERRATUM.
Page 710, line 32, for “impenetrability,” read “ compenetrability.”
Lierman
ULuraxinvn au«
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--------- . .
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_
Du Bois-Reymond, one of the most noted physicists of the age.
“Natural science,” says Du Bois-Reymond,1 “is a reduction of the
changes in the material world to motions of atoms caused by central
forces independent of time, or a resolution of the phenomena of Na
ture into atomic mechanics. . . . The resolution of all changes in the
material world into motions of atoms caused by their constant central
forces would be the completion of natural science.”
Obviously, the proposition thus enounced assigns to physical sci1 “ Ueber die Grenzen des Naturerkennens. Ein Vortrag in der zweiten öffentlichen
Sitzung der 45. Versammlung deutscher Naturforscher und Aerzte zu Leipzig am 14.
August 1872, gehalten von Emil Du Bois-Reymond.” Leipzig, Veit & Comp., 1872.
VOL. in.—45
�7o6
•
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
enee limits so narrow that all attempts to bring the characteristic
phenomena of organic life (not to speak of mental action) within them
are utterly hopeless. Nevertheless, it is asserted that organic phe
nomena are the product of ordinary physical forces alone, and that
the assumption of vital agencies, as distinct from the forces of inor
ganic Nature, is wholly inadmissible. In view of this, it seems strange
that the validity of the proposition above referred to has never, so far
as I know, been questioned, except in the interest of some metaphysi
cal or theological system. It is my purpose in the following essays
to offer a few suggestions in this behalf, in order to ascertain, if pos
sible, whether the prevailing primary notions of physical science can
stand, or are in need of revision.
One of the prime postulates of the mechanical theory is the atomic
constitution of matter. A discussion of this theory, therefore, at
once leads to an examination of the grounds upon which the assump
tion of atoms, as the ultimate constituents of the physical world,
rests.
The doctrine that an exhaustive analysis of a material body into
its real elements, if it could be practically effected, would yield an ag
gregate of indivisible and indestructible particles, is almost coeval
with human speculation, and has held its ground more persistently
than any other tenet of science or philosophy. It is true that the
atomic theory, since its first promulgation by the early Greek philoso
phers, and its elaborate statement by Lucretius, has been modified and
refined. There is probably no one, at this day, who invests the atoms
with hooks and loops, or (Lucretius, De Rerum Natura, ii., 398, et seq.)
accounts for the bitter taste of wormwood by the raggedness, and for
the sweetness of honey by the smooth roundness of the constituent
atoms. But the “ atom ” of modern science is still of determinate
weight, if not of determinate figure, and stands for something more
than an abstract unit, even in the view of those who, like Boscovich,
Faraday, Ampère, or Fechner, profess to regard it as a mere centre of
force. And there is no difficulty in stating the atomic doctrine in
terms applicable alike to all the acceptations in which it is now held by
scientific men. Whatever diversity of opinion may prevail as to the
form, size, etc., of the atoms, all who advance the atomic hypothesis,
in any of its varieties, as a physical theory, agree in three propositions,
which may be stated as follows :
1. Atoms are absolutely simple, unchangeable, indestructible ; they
are physically, if not mathematically, indivisible.
2. Matter consists of discrete parts, the constituent atoms being
separated by void interstitial spaces. In contrast to the continuity of
space stands the discontinuity of matter. The expansion of a body
is simply an increase, its contraction a lessening of the spatial inter
vals between the atoms.
3. The atoms composing the different chemical elements are of de-
�PRIMARY CONCEPTS OF MODERN SCIENCE.
7q7
terminate specific weights, corresponding to their equivalents of com
bination.1
Confessedly the atomic theory is hut an hypothesis. This in itself
is not decisive against its value; all physical theories properly so
called are hypotheses whose eventual recognition as truths depends
upon their consistency with themselves, upon their agreement with
the canons of logic, upon their congruence with the facts which they
serve to connect and explain, upon their conformity with the ascer
tained order of Nature, upon the extent to which they approve them
selves as reliable anticipations or previsions of facts verified by subse
quent observation or experiment, and finally upon their simplicity, or
rather their reducing power. The merits of the atomic theory, too,
are to be determined by seeing whether or not it satisfactorily and
simply accounts for the phenomena as the explanation of which it is
propounded, and whether or not it is in harmony with itself and with
the known laws of Reason and of Nature.
For what facts, then, is the atomic hypothesis meant to account,
and to what degree is the account it offers satisfactory?
It is claimed that the first of the three propositions above enu
merated (the proposition which asserts the persistent integrity of
atoms, or their unchangeability both in weight and volume) accounts
for the indestructibility and impenetrability of matter; that the sec
ond of these propositions (relating to the discontinuity of matter) is
an indispensable postulate for the explanation of certain physical phe
nomena, such as the dispersion and polarization of light; and that the
third proposition (according to which the atoms composing the chem
ical elements are of determinate specific gravities) is the necessary
general expression of the laws of definite constitution, equivalent pro
portion, and multiple combination, in chemistry.
In discussing these claims, it is important, first, to verify the facts
and to reduce the statements of these facts to exact expression, and
then to see how far they are fused by the theory:
1. The indestructibility of matter is an unquestionable truth. But
in what sense, and upon what grounds, is this indestructibility predi
cated of matter ? The unanimous answer of the atomists is: Expe
rience teaches that all the changes to which matter is subject are but
variations of form, and that amid these variations there is an unvary
ing constant—the mass or quantity of matter. The constancy of the
mass is attested by the balance, which shows that neither fusion nor
sublimation, neither generation nor corruption, can add to or detract
from the weight of a body subjected to experiment. When a pound
of carbon is burned, the balance demonstrates the continuing exist1 To avoid confusion, I purposely ignore the distinction between molecules as the ulti
mate products of the physical division of matter, and atoms as the ultimate products of
its chemical decomposition, preferring to use the word atoms in the sense of the least
particles into which bodies are divisible or reducible by any means.
�708
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
ence of this pound in the carbonic acid, which is the product of com
bustion, and from which the original weight of carbon may be re
covered. The quantity of matter is measured by its weight, and this
weight is unchangeable.
Such is the fact, familiar to every one, and its interpretation, equally
familiar. To test the correctness of this interpretation, we may be
permitted slightly to vary the method of verifying it. Instead of
burning the pound of carbon, let us simply carry it to the summit of a
mountain, or remove it to a lower latitude; is its weight still the same ?
Relatively it is; it will still balance the original counterpoise. But
the absolute weight is no longer the same. This appears at once, if
we give to the balance another form, taking a pendulum instead of a
pair of scales. The pendulum on the mountain or near the equator
vibrates more slowly than at the foot of the mountain or near the
pole, for the reason that it has become specifically lighter by being
farther removed from the centre of the earth’s attraction, in conformity
to the law that the attractions of bodies vary inversely as the squares
of their distances.
It is thus evident that the constancy, upon the observation of which
the assertion of the indestructibility of matter is based, is simply the
constancy of a relation, and that the ordinary statement of the fact is
crude and inadequate. Indeed, while it is true that the weight of a
body is a measure of its mass, this is but a single case of the more
general fact that the masses of bodies are inversely as the velocities
imparted to them by the action of the same force, or, more generally
still, inversely as the accelerations produced in them by the same force.
In the case of gravity, the forces of attraction are directly propor
tional to the masses, so that the action of the forces (weight) is the
simplest measure of the relation between any two masses as such;
but, in any inquiry relating to the validity of the atomic theory, it is
necessary to bear in mind that this weight is not the equivalent, or
rather presentation, of an absolute substantive entity in one of the
bodies (the body weighed), but the mere expression of a relation be
tween two bodies mutually attracting each other. And it is further
necessary to remember that this weight may be indefinitely reduced,
without any diminution in the mass of the body weighed, by a mere
change of its position in reference to the body between which and the
body weighed the relation subsists.1
1 The thoughtlessness with which it is assumed by some of the most eminent mathe
maticians and physicists that matter is composed of particles which have an absolute
primordial weight persisting in all positions, and under all circumstances, is one of the
most remarkable facts in the history of science. To cite but one instance : Prof. Rettenbacher, one of the ablest analysts of his day, in his “ Dynamidensystem ” (Mannheim,
Bassermann, 1857), p. 14, says, “The absolute weight of atoms is unknown”—his
meaning being, as is evident from the context and from the whole tenor of his discus
sion, that our ignorance of this absolute weight is due solely to the practical impossi
bility of insulating an atom, and of contriving instruments delicate enough to weigh it.
�PRIMARY CONCEPTS OF MODERN SCIENCE.
709
Masses find their true and only measure in the action of forces, and
the quantitative persistence of the effect of this action is the simple
and accurate expression of the fact which is ordinarily described as
the indestructibility of matter. It is obvious that this persistence is
in no sense explained or accounted for by the atomic hypothesis. It
may be that such persistence is an attribute of the minute, insensible
particles which are supposed to constitute matter, as well as of sen
sible masses ; but, surely, the hypothetical recurrence of a fact in the
atom is no explanation of the actual occurrence of the same fact in
the conglomerate mass. Whatever mystery is involved in the phe
nomenon is as great in the case of the atom as in that of a solar or
planetary sphere. Breaking a magnet into fragments, and showing
that each fragment is endowed with the magnetic polarity of the in
teger magnet, is no explanation of the phenomenon of magnetism. A
phenomenon is not explained by being dwarfed. A fact is not trans
formed into a theory by being looked at through an inverted telescope.
The hypothesis of ultimate indestructible atoms is not a necessary im
plication of the persistence of weight, and can at best account for the
indestructibility of matter if it can be shown that there is an absolute
limit to the compressibility of matter—in other words, that there is
an absolutely least volume for every determinate mass. This brings
us to the consideration of that general property of matter which prob
ably, in the minds of most men, most urgently requires the assump
tion of atoms—its impenetrability.
“ Two bodies cannot occupy the same space ”—such is the familiar
statement of the fact in question. Like the indestructibility of matter,
it is claimed to be a datum of experience. “ Corpora omnia impenotrabilla esse” says Sir Isaac Newton (Phil. Nat. Prine. Math., lib.
iii., reg. 3), “ non ratione sed sensu colligimus.” Let us see in what
sense and to what extent this claim is legitimate.
The proposition, according to which a space occupied by one body
cannot be occupied by another, implies the assumption that space is
an absolute, self-measuring entity—an assumption which I may have
occasion to examine hereafter—and the further assumption that there
is a least space which a given body will absolutely fill so as to exclude
any other body. A verification of this proposition by experience,
therefore, must amount to proof that there is an absolute limit to the
compressibility of all matter whatsoever. Now, does experience au
thorize us to assign such a limit ? Assuredly not. It is true that in
the case of solids and liquids there are practical limits beyond which
compression by the mechanical means at our command is impossible ;
but even here we are met by the fact that the volumes of fluids, which
effectually resist all efforts at further reduction by external pressure,
are readily reduced by mere mixture. Thus, sulphuric acid and water
at ordinary temperatures do not sensibly yield to pressure; but, when
they are mixed, the resulting volume is materially less than the aggre
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gate volumes of the liquids mixed. But, waiving this, as well as the
phenomena which emerge in the processes of solution and chemical ac
tion, it must be said that experience does not in any manner vouch
for the impenetrability of matter as such in all its states of aggrega
tion. When gases are subjected to pressure, the result is simply an
increase of the expansive force in proportion to the pressure exerted,
according to the law of Boyle and Mariotte (the modifications of and
apparent exceptions to which, as exhibited in the experimental results
obtained by Regnault and others, need not here be stated, because
they do not affect the argument). A definite experimental limit, is
reached in the case of those gases only in which the pressure produces
liquefaction or solidification. The most significant phenomenon, how
ever, which experience contributes to the testimony on this subject is
the diffusion of gases. Whenever two or more gases which do not act
upon each other chemically are introduced into a given space, each gas
diffuses itself in this space as though it were alone present there; or,
as Dalton, the reputed father of the modern atomic theory, expresses
it, “ Gases are mutually passive, and pass into each other as into
vacua.”
Whatever reality may correspond to the notion of the impenetra
bility of matter, this impenetrability is not, in the sense of the atomists, a datum of experience.
Upon the whole, it would seem that the validity of the first propo
sition of the atomic theory is not sustained by the facts. Even if the
assumed unchangeability of the supposed ultimate constituent particles
of matter presented itself, upon its own showing, as more than a bare
reproduction of an observed fact in the form of an hypothesis, and
could be dignified with the name of a generalization or of a theory,
it would still be obnoxious to the criticism that it is a generalization
from facts crudely observed and imperfectly apprehended.
In this connection it may be observed that the atomic theory has
become next to valueless as an explanation of the impenetrability
of matter, since it has been pressed into the service of the undulatory
theory of light, heat, etc., and assumed the form in which it is now
held by the majority of physicists, as we shall presently see. Ac
cording to this form of the theory, the atoms are either mere points,
wholly without extension, or their dimensions are infinitely small as
compared with the distances between them, whatever be the state
aggregation of the substances into which they enter. In this view
the resistance which a body, i. e., a system of atoms, offers to the in
trusion of another body is due, not to the rigidity or unchangeability
of volume of the individual atoms, but to the relation between the
attractive and repulsive forces with which they are supposed to be
endowed. There are physicists holding this view who are of opinion
that the atomic constitution of matter is consistent with its impene
trability among them M. Cauchy, who, in his Sept Lemons de Phy-
�PRIMARY CONCEPTS OF MODERN SCIENCE.
7n
sique Genérale (ed. Moigno, Paris, 1868, p. 38), after defining atoms
as “ material points without extension,” uses this language: “ Thus,
this property of matter which we call impenetrability is explained,
when we consider the atoms as material points exerting on each other
attractions and repulsions which vary with the distances that separate
them. . . . From this it follows that, if it pleased the author of Na
ture simply to modify the laws according to which the atoms attract
or repel each other, we might instantly see the hardest bodies pene
trate each other ” (that we might see), “ the smallest particles of matter
occupy immense spaces, or the largest masses reduce themselves to
the smallest volumes, the entire universe concentrating itself, as it
were, in a single point.”
2. The second fundamental proposition of the modern atomic
theory avouches the essential discontinuity of matter. The advocates
of the theory affirm that there is a series of physical phenomena
which are inexplicable, unless we assume that the constituent par
ticles of matter are separated by void interspaces. The most notable
among these phenomena are the dispersion and polarization of light.
The grounds upon which the assumption of a discrete molecular
structure of matter is deemed indispensable for the explanation of
these phenomena may be stated in a few words.
According to the undulatory theory, the dispersion of light, or its
separation into spectral colors, by means of refraction, is a conse
quence of the unequal retardation experienced by the different waves,
which produce the different colors, in their transmission through the
refracting medium. This unequal retardation presupposes differences
in the velocities with which the various-colored rays are transmitted
through any medium whatever, and a dependence of these velocities
upon the lengths of the waves. But, according to a well-established
mechanical theorem, the velocities with which undulations are prop
agated through a continuous medium depend solely upon the elasticity
of the medium as compared with its inertia, and are wholly indepen
dent of the length and form of the waves. The correctness of this the
orem is attested by experience in the case of sound. Sounds of every
pitch travel with the same velocity. If it were otherwise, music heard
at a distance would evidently become chaotic; differences of velocity
in the propagation of sound would entail a distortion of the rhythm,
and, in many cases, a reversal of the order of succession. Now, differ
ences of color are analogous to differences of pitch in sound, both re
ducing themselves to differences of wave-length. The lengths of the
waves increase as we descend the scale of sounds from those of a higher
to those of a lower pitch; and similarly, the length of a luminar undu
lation increases as we descend the spectral scale, from violet to red. It
follows, then, that the rays of different color, like the sounds of differ
ent pitch, should be propagated with equal velocities, and be equally
refracted; that, therefore, no dispersion of light should take place.
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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
This theoretical impossibility of dispersion has always been recog
nized as one of the most formidable difficulties of the undulatory
theory. In order to obviate it, Cauchy, at the suggestion of his friend
Coriolis, entered upon a series of analytical investigations, in which he
succeeded in showing that the velocities with which the various colored
rays are propagated may vary according to the wave-lengths, if it be
assumed that the ethereal medium of propagation, instead of being
continuous, consists of particles separated by sensible distances.
By means of a similar assumption, Fresnel has sought to remove
the difficulties presented by the phenomena of polarization. In ordi
nary light, the different undulations are supposed to take place in dif
ferent directions, all transverse to the course or line of propagation,
while in polarized light the vibrations, though still transverse to the
ray, are parallelized, so as to occur in the same plane. Soon after this
hypothesis had been expanded into an elaborate theory of polarization,
Poisson observed that, at any considerable distance from the source
of the light, all transverse vibrations in a continuous elastic medium
must become longitudinal. As in the case of dispersion, this objection
was met by the hypothesis of the existence of “definite intervals”
between the ethereal particles.
These are the considerations, succinctly stated, which theoretical
physics are supposed to bring to the support of the atomic theory. In
reference to the cogency of the argument founded upon them, it is to
be said, generally, that evidence of the discrete molecular arrangement
of matter is by no means proof of the alternation of unchangeable and
indivisible atoms with absolute spatial voids. But it is to be feared
that the argument in question is not only formally, but also materially,
fallacious. It is very questionable whether the assumption of definite
intervals between the particles of the luminiferous ether is competent
to relieve the undulatory theory of light from its embarrassments.
This subject, in one of its aspects, has been thoroughly discussed by E.
B. Hunt, in an article on the dispersion of light (SiUimari8 Journal,
vol. vii., 2d series, p. 364, et seq.), and the suggestions there made ap
pear to me worthy of serious attention. They are briefly these:
M. Cauchy brings the phenomena of dispersion within the do
minion of the undulatory theory, by deducing the differences in the
velocities of the several chromatic rays from the differences in the cor
responding wave-lengths by means of the hypothesis of definite inter
vals between the particles of the light-bearing medium. He takes it
for granted, therefore, that these chromatic rays are propagated with
different velocities. But is this the fact ? Astronomy affords the
means to answer this question.
We experience the sensation of white light, when all the chromatic
rays of which it is composed strike the eye simultaneously. The light
proceeding from a luminous body will appear colorless, even if the
component rays move with unequal velocities, provided all the colored
�PRIMARY CONCEPTS OF MODERN SCIENCE.
713
rays, which together make up white light, concur in their action on
the retina at a given moment; in ordinary cases it is immaterial
whether these rays have left the luminous body successively or together.
But it is otherwise when a luminous body becomes visible suddenly,
as in the case of the satellites of Jupiter, or Saturn, after their eclipses.
At certain periods, more than 49 minutes are requisite for the trans
mission of light from Jupiter to the earth. Now, at the moment when
one of Jupiter’s satellites, which has been eclipsed by that planet,
emerges from the shadow, the red rays, if their velocity were the great
est, would evidently reach the eye first, the orange next, and so on
through the chromatic scale, until finally the complement of colors
would be filled by the arrival of the violet ray, whose velocity is
supposed to be the least. The satellite, immediately after its emersion,
would appear red, and gradually, in proportion to the arrival of the
other rays, pass into white. Conversely, at the beginning of the
eclipse, the violet rays would continue to arrive after the red and
other intervening rays, and the satellite, up to the moment of its total
disappearance, will gradually shade into violet.
Unfortunately for Cauchy’s hypothesis, the most careful observation
of the eclipses in question has failed to reveal any such variations of
color, either before immersion, or after emersion, the transition between
light and darkness taking place instantaneously, and without chro
matic gradations.
If it be said that these chromatic gradations escape our vision by
reason of the inappreciability of the differences under discussion, as
tronomy points to other phenomena no less subversive of the doctrine
of unequal velocities in the movements of the chromatic undulations.
Fixed stars beyond the parallactic limit, whose light must travel more
than three years before it reaches us, are subject to great periodical
variations of splendor; and yet these variations are unaccompanied
by variations of color. Again, the assumption of different velocities
for the different chromatic rays is discountenanced by the theory of
aberration. Aberration is due to the fact that, in all cases where the
orbit of the planet, on which the observer is stationed, forms an angle
with the direction of the luminar ray, a composition takes place be
tween the motion of the light and the motion of the planet, so that
the direction in which the light meets the eye is a resultant of the two
component directions—the direction of the ray and that of the ob
server’s motion. If the several rays of color moved with different
velocities there would evidently be several resultants, and each star
would appear as a colored spectrum longitudinally parallel to the
direction of the earth’s motion.
The alleged dependence of the velocity of the undulatory move
ments, which correspond to, or produce, the different colors, upon the
length of the waves, is thus at variance with observed fact. The
hypothesis of definite intervals is unavailable as a supplement to the
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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
undulatory theory ; other methods will have to be resorted to in order
to free this theory from its difficulties.1
3. The third proposition of the atomic hypothesis assigns to the
atoms, which are said to compose the different chemical elements, de
terminate weights corresponding to their equivalents of combination,
and is supposed to be necessary to account for the facts whose enumeration and theory constitute the science of chemistry. The proper
verification of these facts is of great difficulty, because they have gen
erally been observed through the lenses of the atomic theory, and
stated in its doctrinal terms. Thus the differentiation and integration
of bodies are invariably described as decomposition and composition ;
the equivalents of combination are designated as atomic weights or
volumes, and the greater part of chemical nomenclature is a system
atic reproduction of the assumptions of atomism. Nearly all the facts
to be verified are in need of preparatory enucleation from the envelops
of this theory.
The phenomena usually described as chemical composition and de
composition present themselves to observation thus: A number of
heterogeneous bodies concur in definite proportions of weight or vol
ume; they interact; they disappear, and give rise to a new body pos
sessing properties which are neither the sum nor the mean of the prop
erties of the bodies concurring and interacting (excepting the weight
which is the aggregate of the weights of the interacting bodies), and
this conversion of several bodies into one is accompanied, in most
cases, by changes of volume, and in all cases by the evolution or in
volution of heat, or light, or of both. Conversely, a single homogeneous
body gives rise to heterogeneous bodies, between which and the body
out of which they originate the persistence of weight is the only re
lation of identity.
For the sake of convenience, these phenomena may be distributed
into three classes, of which the first embraces the persistence of weight
and the combination in definite proportions ; the second, the changes
of volume and the evolution of light and heat; and the third, the
emergence of a wholly new complement of chemical properties.
Obviously, the atomic hypothesis is in no sense an explanation of
the phenomena of the second class. It is clearly and confessedly in
1 Cauchy’s theory of dispersion is subject to another difficulty, of which no note is
taken by Hunt: it does not account for the different refracting powers of different, sub
stances. Indeed, according to Cauchy’s formula) (whose terms are expressive simply of
the distances between the ethereal particles and their hypothetical forces of attraction
and repulsion), the refracting powers of all substances whatever must be the same, un
less each substance is provided with a peculiar ether of its own. If this be the case, the
assemblage of atoms in a given body is certainly a very motley affair, especially if it be
true, as W. A. Norton and several other physicists assert, that there is an electric ether
distinct from the luminiferous ether. Rettenbacher (“Dynamidensystem,” p. 130, et seq.)
attempts to overcome the difficulty by the hypothesis of mutual action between the cor
puscular and ethereal atoms.
�PRIMARY CONCEPTS OF MODERN SCIENCE.
715
competent to account for changes of volume or of temperature. And,
with the phenomena of the third class, it is apparently incompatible.
For, in the light of the atomic hypothesis, chemical compositions and
decompositions are in their nature nothing more than aggregations
and segregations of masses whose integrity remains inviolate. But
the radical change of chemical properties, which is the result of all
true chemical action, and serves to distinguish it from mere mechani
cal mixture or separation, evinces a thorough destruction of that in
tegrity. It may be that the appearance of this incompatibility can be
obliterated by the device of ancillary hypotheses; but that leads to
an abandonment of the simplicity of the atomic hypothesis itself, and
thus to a surrender of its claims to merit as a theory.
At best, then, the hypothesis of atoms of definite and different
weights can be offered as an explanation of the phenomena of the first
class. Does it explain them in the sense of generalizing them, of re
ducing many facts to one? Not at all; it accounts for them, as it
professed to account for the indestructibility and impenetrability of
matter, by simply iterating the observed fact in the form of an hy
pothesis. It is another case (to borrow a scholastic phrase) of illus
trating idem per idem. It says: The large masses combine in definitely-proportionate weights because the small masses, the atoms of
which they are multiples, are of definitely-proportionate weight. It
pulverizes the fact, and claims thereby to have sublimated it into a
theory.
Upon closer examination, moreover, the assumption of atoms of
different specific gravities proves to be, not only futile, but absurd.
Its manifest theoretical ineptitude is found to mask the most fatal
inconsistencies. According to the mechanical conception which un
derlies the whole atomic hypothesis, differences of weight are differ
ences of density; and differences of density are differences of distance
between the particles contained in a given space. Now, in the atom
there is no multiplicity of particles, and no void space; hence dif
ferences of density or weight Are impossible in the case of atoms.
It is to be observed that the attribution of different weights to dif
ferent atoms is an indispensable feature of the atomic theory in chem
istry, especially in view of the combination of gases in simple ratios
of volume, so as to give rise to gaseous products bearing a simple
ratio to the volumes of its constituents, and in view of the law of
Ampere and Clausius, according to which all gases, of whatever nature
or weight, contain equal numbers of molecules in equal volumes.
The inadequacy of the atomic hypothesis as a theory of chemical
changes has been repeatedly pointed out by men of the highest scien
tific authority, such as Grove (Correlation of Physical Forces, in
Youmans’s “Correlation and Conservation of Forces,” p. 164, et seqf
and is becoming more apparent from day to day. I shall have occa
sion to inquire, hereafter, what promise there is, in the present state
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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
of chemical science, of a true generalization of the phenomena of com
bination in definite proportions, both of weight and volume, which is
independent of the atomic doctrine, and will serve to connect a num
ber of concomitant facts for which this doctrine is utterly incompetent
to account.
It is not infrequently asserted by the advocates of the atomic
theory that there is a number of other phenomena, in addition to
those of combination in definite proportions, which are strongly indica
tive of the truth of the atomic theory. Among these phenomena are
isomerism, polymerism, and allotropy. But it is very doubtful whether
this theory is countenanced by the phenomena in question. The exist
ence of different allotropic states, in an elementary body said to con
sist of but one kind of atoms, is explicable by the atomic hypothesis
in no other way than by deducing these different states from diversi
ties in the grouping of the different atoms. But this explanation ap
plies to solids only, and fails in the cases of liquids and gases. The
same remark applies to isomerism and polymerism.
From the foregoing considerations, I take it to be clear that the
atomic hypothesis mistakes many of the facts which it seeks to ex
plain ; that it accounts imperfectly or not at all for a number of other
facts which are correctly apprehended; and that there are cases in
which it appears to be in irreconcilable conflict with the data of expe
rience. As a physical theory, it is barren and useless, inasmuch as it
lacks the first requisite of a true theory—that of being a generaliza
tion, a reduction of several facts to one; it is essentially one of those
spurious figments of the brain, based upon an ever-increasing multiplicatio ent turn praeter necessitatem, which are characteristic of the prescientific epochs of human intelligence, and against which the whole
spirit of modern science is an emphatic protest. Moreover, in its
logical and psychological aspect, as we shall hereafter see more
clearly, it is the clumsiest attempt ever made to transcend the sphere
of relations in which all objective reality, as well as all thought,
has its being, and to grasp the absolute “ ens per sese, jinitum, reale,
totumP
I do not speak here of a number of other difficulties which emerge
upon a minute examination of the atomic hypothesis in its two prin
cipal varieties, the atoms being regarded by some physicists as ex
tended and figured masses, and by others as mere centres of force.
In the former case the assumption of physical indivisibility becomes
gratuitous, and that of mathematical indivisibility absurd; while in
the latter case the whole basis of the relation between force and mass,
or rather force and inertia, without which the conception of either
term of the relation is impossible, is destroyed. Some of these diffi
culties are frankly admitted by leading men of science—for instance,
by Du Bois-Reymond, in the lecture above cited. Nevertheless, it is
asserted that the atomic, or at least molecular, constitution of matter
�FINDING THE WAY AT SEA.
7*7
is the only form of material existence which can be realized in thought.
In what sense, and to what extent, this assertion is well founded, will
be my next subject of examination.
FINDING THE WAY AT SEA.
By E. A. PEOCTOE.
IHE wreck of the Atlantic, followed closely by that of the City of
JL Washington nearly on the same spot, has led many to inquire
into the circumstances on which depends a captain’s knowledge of the
position of his ship. In each case, though not in the same way, the
ship was supposed to be far from land, when in reality quite close to
it. In each case, in fact, the ship had oversailed her reckoning. A
slight exaggeration of what travellers so much desire—a rapid pas
sage—proved the destruction of the ship, and in one case occasioned
a fearful loss of life. And, although such events are fortunately infre
quent in Atlantic voyages, yet the bare possibility that, besides or
dinary sea-risks, a ship is exposed to danger from simply losing her
way, suggests unpleasant apprehensions as to the general reliability
of the methods in use for determining where a ship is, and her prog
ress from day to day.
I propose to give a brief sketch of the methods in use for finding
the way at sea, in order that the general principles on which safety
depends may be recognized by the general reader.
It is known, of course, to every one, that a ship’s course and rate
of sailing are carefully noted throughout her voyage. Every change
of her course is taken account of, as well as every change in her rate
of advance, whether under sail or steam, or both combined. If all
this could be quite accurately managed, the position of the ship at
any hour could be known, because it would be easy to mark down on
a chart the successive stages of her journey, from the moment when
she left port. But a variety of circumstances renders this impossible.
To begin with: the exact course of a ship cannot be known, be
cause there is only the ship’s compass to determine her course by, and
a ship’s compass is not an instrument affording perfectly exact indica
tions. Let any one on a sea-voyage observe the compass for a short
time, being careful not to break the good old rule which forbids speech
to the “ man at the wheel,” and he will presently become aware of
the fact that the ship is not kept rigidly to one course, even for a short
time. The steersman keeps her as near as he can to a particular
course, but she is continually deviating, now a little on one side, now
a little on the other, of the intended direction; and even the general
accuracy with which that course is followed is a matter of estimation,
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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
and depends on the skill of the individual steersman. Looking at
the compass-card, in steady weather, a course may seem very closely
followed; perhaps the needle’s end may not be a hundredth part of
an inch (on the average) from the position it should have. But a hun
dredth part of an inch on the circumference of the compass-card
would correspond to a considerable deviation in the course of a run
of twenty or thirty knots ; and there is nothing to prevent the errors
so arising from accumulating in a long journey until a ship might be
thirty or forty miles from her estimated place. To this may be added
the circumstance that the direction of the needle is different in differ
ent parts of the earth. In some places it points to the east of the
north, in others to the west. And, although the actual “ variation of
the compass,” as this peculiarity is called, is known in a general way
for all parts of the earth, yet such knowledge has no claim to actual
exactness. There is also an important danger, as recent instances
have shown, in the possible change of the position of the ship’s com
pass, on account of iron in her cargo.
But a far more important cause of error, in determinations merely
depending on the log-book, is that arising from uncertainty as to the
ship’s rate of progress. The log-line gives only a rough idea of the
4 ship’s rate at the time when the log is cast;1 and, of course, a ship’s
rate does not remain constant, even when she is under steam alone.
Then, again, currents carry the ship along sometimes with consider
able rapidity; and the log-line affords no indication of their action:
while no reliance can be placed on the estimated rates, even of known
currents. Thus the distance made on any course may differ consider
ably from the estimated distance; and, when several days’ sailing are
dealt with, an error of large amount may readily accumulate.
For these and other reasons, a ship’s captain places little reliance
on what is called “ the day’s work ”—that is, the change in the ship’s
position from noon to noon as estimated from the compass-courses en
tered in the log-book, and the distances supposed to be run on these
courses. It is absolutely essential that such estimates should be careful
ly made, because, under favorable conditions of weather, there may be
no other means of guessing at the ship’s position. But the only really
reliable way of determining a ship’s place is- by astronomical observa
tions. It is on this account that the almanac published by the Ad
miralty, in which the position and apparent motions of the celestial
bodies are indicated, four or five years in advance, is called, par excel1 The log is a flat piece of wood of quadrantal shape, so loaded at the rim as to float
with the point (that is, the centre of the quadrant) uppermost. To this a line about
300 yards long is fastened. The log is thrown overboard, and comes almost immediately
to rest on the surface of the sea, the line being suffered to run freely out. By marks on
the log-line divided into equal spaces, called knots, of known length, and by observing
how many of these run out, while the sand in a half-minute hour-glass is running, the
ship’s rate of motion is roughly inferred. The whole process is necessarily rough, since
the line cannot even be straightened.
�FINDING THE WAY AT SEA.
719
fence, the Nautical Almanac. The astronomer, in his fixed observa
tory, finds this almanac essential to the prosecution of his observa
tions ; the student of theoretical astronomy has continual occasion to
refer to it; but, to the sea-captain, the Nautical Almanac has a far
more important use. The lives of sailors and passengers are depend
ent upon its accuracy. It is, again, chiefly for the sailor that our
great nautical observatories have been erected, and that our astron
omer-royal and his officers are engaged. What other work they
may do is subsidiary, and, as it were, incidental. Their chief work is
to time this great clock, our earth, and so to trace the motions of
those celestial indices, which afford our fundamental time-measures,
as to insure as far as possible the safety of our navy, royal and mer
cantile.1
Let us see how this is brought about, not, indeed, by inquiring into
the processes by which, at the Greenwich Observatory, the elements
of safety are obtained, but by considering the method by which a sea
man makes use of these elements.
In the measures heretofore considered, the captain of a ship in
reality relies on terrestrial measurements. He reasons that, being on
such and such a day in a given place, and having in the interval sailed
so many miles in such and such directions, he must at the time being
be in such and such a place. This is called “ navigation.” In the
processes next to be considered, which constitute a part of the science
of nautical astronomy, the seaman trusts to celestial observations in
dependently of all terrestrial measurements.
The points to be determined by the voyager are his latitude and
longitude. The latitude is the distance north or south of the equa
tor, and is measured always from the equator in degrees, the distance
from equator to pole being divided into ninety equal parts, each of
which is a degree.3 The longitude is the distance east or west of
Greenwich (in English usage, but other nations employ a different
starting-point for measuring longitudes from). Longitude is not meas
ured in miles, but in degrees. The way of measuring is not very
1 This consideration has been altogether lost sight of in certain recent propositions
for extending government aid to astronomical inquiries of another sort. It may be a
most desirable thing that government should find means for inquiring into the physical
condition of sun and moon, planets and comets, stars and all the various orders of star
clusters. But, if such matters are to be studied at government expense, it should be un
derstood that the inquiry is undertaken with the sole purpose of advancing our knowl
edge of these interesting subjects, and should not be brought into comparison with the
utilitarian labors for which our Royal Observatory was founded.
2 Throughout this explanation all minuter details are neglected. In reality, in conse
quence of the flattening of the earth’s globe, the degrees of latitude are not equal, being
larger the farther we go from the equator. Moreover, strictly speaking, it is incorrect
to speak of distances being divided into degrees, or to say that a degree of latitude or
longitude contains so many miles ; yet it is so exceedingly inconvenient to employ any
other way of speaking in popular description, that I trust any astronomers or mathema
ticians who may read this article will forgive the solecism.
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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
readily explained without a globe or diagrams, but may be thus indi
cated : Suppose a circle to run completely round the earth, through
Greenwich and both the poles; now, if this circle be supposed free to
turn upon the polar axis, or on the poles as pivots, and the half which
crosses Greenwich be carried (the nearest way round) till it crosses
some other station, then the arc through which it is carried is called
the longitude of the station, and the longitude is easterly or westerly
according as this half-circle has to be shifted toward the east or west.
A complete half-turn is 180°, and, by taking such a half-turn either
eastwardly or westwardly, the whole surface of the earth is included.
Points which are 180° east of Greenwich are thus also 180° west of
Greenwich.
So much is premised in the way of explanation to make the present
paper complete ; but ten minutes’ inspection of an ordinary terrestrial
globe will show the true meaning of latitude and longitude more
clearly (to those who happen to have forgotten what they learned at
school on these points) than any verbal description.
Now, it is sufficiently easy for a sea-captain in fine weather to de
termine his latitude. For places in different latitudes have different
celestial scenery, if one may so describe the aspect of the stellar heav
ens by night and the course traversed by the sun by day. The height
of the pole-star above the horizon, for instance, at once indicates the
latitude very closely, and would indicate the latitude exactly if the
pole-star were exactly at the pole instead of being merely close to it.
But the height of any known star when due south also gives the lati
tude. For, at every place in a given latitude, a star rises to a given
greatest height when due south; if we travel farther south, the star
will be higher when due south ; if we travel farther north, it will be
lower; and thus its observed height shows just how far north of the
equator any northerly station is, while, if the traveller is in the South
ern Hemisphere, corresponding observations show how far to the south
of the equator he is.
But commonly the seaman trusts to observation of the sun to give
him his latitude. The observation is made at noon, when the sun is
highest above the horizon. The actual height is determined by means
of the instrument called the sextant. This instrument need not be
here described; but thus much may be mentioned to explain that pro
cess of taking the sun’s meridian altitude which, no doubt, every one
has witnessed who has taken a long sea-journey. The sextant is so
devised that the observer can see two objects at once, one directly and
the other after reflection of its light; and the amount by which he has
to move a certain bar carrying the reflecting arrangement, in order to
bring the two objects into view in the same direction, shows him the
real divergence of lines drawn from his eye to the two objects. To
take the sun’s altitude, then, with this instrument, the observer takes
the sun as one object and the horizon directly below the sun as the
�FINDING THE WAY AT SEA.
721
other: he brings them into view together, and then, looking at the
sextant to see how much he has had to move the swinging arm which
carries the reflecting glasses, he learns how high the sun is. This being
done at noon, with proper arrangements to insure that the greatest
height then reached by the sun is observed, at once indicates the lati
tude of the observer. Suppose, for example, he finds the sun to be
40° above the horizon, and the Nautical Almanac tells him that, at
the time the sun is 10° north of the celestial equator, then he knows
that the celestial equator is 30° above the southern horizon. The pole
of the heavens is, therefore, 60° above the northern horizon, and the
voyager is in 60° north latitude. Of course, in all ordinary cases, the
number of degrees is not exact, as I have here for simplicity sup
posed, and there are some niceties of observation which would have
to be taken into account in real work. But the principle of the method
is sufficiently indicated by what has been said, and no useful purpose
could be served by considering minutiae.
Unfortunately, the longitude is not determined so readily. The
very circumstance which makes the determination of the latitude so
simple introduces the great difficulty which exists in finding the lon
gitude. I have said that all places in the same latitude have the same
celestial scenery; and precisely for this reason it is difficult to dis
tinguish one such place from another, that is, to find on what part of
its particular latitude-circle any place may lie.
If we consider, however, how longitude is measured, and what it
really means, we shall readily see where a solution of the difficulty is
to be sought. The latitude of a station means how far toward either
pole the station is; its longitude means how far round the station is
from some fixed longitude. But it is by turning round on her axis
that the earth causes the changes which we call day and night; and
therefore these must happen at different times in places at different
distances round. For example, it is clear that, if it is noon at one sta
tion, it must be midnight at a station half-way round from the former.
And if any one at one station could telegraph to a person at another,
“ It is exactly noon here,” while this latter person knew from his clock
or watch that it was exactly midnight where he was, then he would
know that he was half-way round exactly. He would, in fact, know
his longitude from the other station. And so with smaller differences.
The earth turns, we know, from west to east—that is, a place lying due
west of another is so carried as presently to occupy the place which*
its easterly neighbor had before occupied, while this last place has
gone farther east yet. Let us suppose an hour is the time required to
carry a westerly station to the position which had been occupied by a
station to the east of it. Then manifestly every celestial phenomenon
depending on the earth’s turning will occur an hour later at the west
erly station. Sunrise and sunset are phenomena of this kind. If I
telegraph to a friend at some station far to the west, but in the same
vol. ni.—46
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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
latitude, “ The sun is rising here,” and he finds that he has to wait ex
actly an hour before the sun rises there, then he knows that he is one
hour west of me in longitude, a most inexact yet very convenient and
unmistakable way of speaking. As there are twenty-four hours in the
day, while a complete circle running through my station and his (and
everywhere in the same latitude) is supposed to be divided into 360°,
he is 15° (a 24th part of 360) west of me; and, if my station is Green
wich, he is in what we, in England, call 15° west longitude.1
But what is true of sunrise and sunset in the same latitudes and
different longitudes, is true of noon whatever the latitude may be.
And of course it is true of the southing of any known star. Only un
fortunately one cannot tell the exact instant when either the sun or a
star is due south or at its highest above the horizon. Still, speaking
generally, and for the moment limiting our attention to noon, every
station toward the west has noon later, while every station toward
the east has noon earlier, than Greenwich (or whatever reference sta
tion is employed).
I shall presently return to the question how the longitude is to be
determined with sufficient exactness for safety in sea-voyages. But
I may digress here to note what happens in sea-voyages where the
longitude changes. If a voyage is made toward the west, as from
England to America, it is manifest that a watch set to Greenwich
time will be in advance of the local time as the ship proceeds west
ward, and will be more and more in advance the farther the ship trav
els in that direction. For instance, suppose a watch shows Greenwich
time ; then when it is noon at Greenwich the watch will point to
twelve, but it will be an hour before noon at a place 15° west of
Greenwich, two hours before noon at a place 30° west, and so on :
that is, the watch will point to twelve when it is only eleven
o’clock, ten o’clock, and so on, of local time. On arrival at New
York, the traveller would find that his watch was nearly five
hours fast. Of course the reverse happens in a voyage toward the
east. For instance, a watch set to New-York time would be found
to be nearly five hours slow, for Greenwich time, when the traveller
arrived in England.
In the following passage these effects are humorously illustrated
by Mark Twain:
“ Young Mr. Blucher, who is from the Far West, and on his first
yoyage” (from New York to Europe) “was a good deal worried by
the constantly-changing ‘ ship-time.’ He was proud of his new watch
at first, and used to drag it out promptly when eight bells struck at
noon, but he came to look after a while as if he were losing confi1 In this case, he is “ at sea ” (which, I trust, will not be the case with the reader),
and, we may suppose, connected with Greenwich by submarine telegraph in course of
being laid. In fact, the position of the Great Eastern throughout her cable-laying jour
neys, was determined by a method analogous to that sketched above.
�FINDING THE WAY AT SEA.
723
dence in it. Seven days out from New York he came on deck, and
said with great decision, ‘This thing’s a swindle ! ’ ‘ What’s a swin
dle?’ ‘Why, this watch. I bought her out in Illinois—gave $150
for her, and I thought she was good. And, by George, she is good
on shore, but somehow she don’t keep up her lick here on the water—
gets sea-sick, may be. She skips ; she runs along regular enough, till
half-past eleven, and then all of a sudden she lets down. I’ve set that
old regulator up faster and faster, till I’ve shoved it clear round, but
it don’t do any good; she just distances every watch in the ship,1 and
clatters along in a way that’s astonishing till it’s noon, but them “ eight
bells ” always gets in about ten minutes ahead of her any way. I don’t
know what to do with her now. She’s doing all she can; she’s going
her best gait, but it won’t save her. Now, don’t you know there ain’t
a watch in the ship that’s making better time than she is ; but what
does it signify ? When you hear them “ eight bells,” you’ll find her
just ten minutes short of her score—sure.’ The ship was gaining a
full hour every three days, and this fellow was trying to make his
watch go fast enough to keep up to her. But, as he had said, he had
pushed the regulator up as far as it would go, and the watch was
‘ on its best gait,’ and so nothing was left him but to fold his hands
and see the ship beat in the race. We sent him to the captain, and
he explained to him the mystery of ‘ ship-time,’ and set his troubled
mind at rest. This young man,” proceeds Mr. Clemens, d propos
des bottes, “ had asked a great many questions about sea-sickness be
fore we left, and wanted to know what its characteristics were, and how
he was to tell when he had it. He found out.”
I cannot leave Mark Twain’s narrative, however, without gently
criticising a passage in which he has allowed his imagination to invent
effects of longitude which assuredly were never perceived in any voy
age since the ship Argo set out after the Golden Fleece. “We had
the phenomenon of a full moon,” he says, “ located just in the same
spot in the heavens, at the same hour every night. The reason of this
singular conduct on the part of the moon did not occur to us at first,
but it did afterward, when we reflected that we were gaining about
twenty minutes every day ; because we were going east so fast, we
gained just about enough every day to keep along with the moon. It
was becoming an old moon to the friends we had left behind us, but
to us Joshuas it stood still in the same place, and remained always the
same.” O Mr. Clemens, Mr. Clemens! In a work of imagination
(as the “Innocents Abroad” must, I suppose, be to a great extent
considered), a mistake such as that here made is perhaps not a very
serious matter; but, suppose some unfortunate compiler of astronomi
cal works should happen to remember this passage, and to state (as a
1 Because set to go “ fast.” Of course, the other watches on board would be left to
go at their usual rate, and simply put forward at noon each day by so many minutes as
corresponded to the run eastward since the preceding noon.
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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
compiler would be tolerably sure to do, unless he had a mathematical
friend at his elbow) that, by voyaging eastward at such and such a
rate, a traveller can always have the moon “ full ” at night, in what an
unpleasant predicament would the mistake have placed him ’ Such
things happen, unfortunately ; nay, I have even seen works, in which
precisely such mistakes have been made, in use positively as text-books
for examinations. On this account, our fiction writers must be careful
in introducing science details, lest peradventure science-teachers (save
the mark !) be led astray.
It need scarcely be said that no amount of eastwardly voyaging
would cause the moon to remain always “ full ” as seen by the voyager.
The moon’s phase is the same from whatever part of the earth she may
be seen, and she will become “ new,” that is, pass between the earth
and the sun, no matter what voyages may be undertaken by the in
habitants of earth. Mr. Clemens has confounded the monthly motion
of the moon with her daily motion. A traveller who could only go
fast enough eastward might keep the moon always due south. To do
this he would have to travel completely round the earth in a day and
(roughly) about 50| minutes. If he continued this for a whole month,
the moon would never leave the southern heavens ; but she would not
continue “ full.” In fact, we see that the hour of the day (local time)
would be continually changing—since the traveller would not go round
once in twenty-four hours (which would be following the sun, and
would cause the hour of the day to remain always the same), but in
twenty-four hours and the best part of another hour; so that the day
would seem to pass on, though very slowly, lasting a lunar month in
stead of a common day.
Every one who makes a long sea-voyage must have noted the im
portance attached to moon observations; and many are misled into
the supposition that these observations are directly intended for the
determination of the longitude (or, which is the same thing in effect,
for determining true ship-time). This, however, is a mistake. The
latitude can be determined at noon, as we have seen. A rough ap
proximation to the local time can be obtained also, and is commonly
obtained, by noting when the sun begins to dip after reaching the
highest part of his course above the horizon. But this is necessarily
only a rough approximation, and quite unsuited for determining the
ship’s longitude. For the sun’s elevation changes very slowly at
noon, and no dip can be certainly recognized, even from terrafirrna, far
less from a ship, within a few minutes of true noon. A determination
of time effected in this way serves very well for the ship’s “ watches,”
and accordingly when the sun, so observed, begins to dip, they strike
“ eight bells ” and “ make it noon.” But it would be a serious matter
for the crew if that was made the noon for working the ship’s place;
for an error of many miles would be inevitable.
The following passage from “Foul Play” illustrates the way in
�FINDING THE WAY AT SEA.
725
which mistakes have arisen on this point: The hero, who, being a cler
gyman and a university man, is, of course, a master of every branch
of science, is about to distinguish himself before the heroine by work
ing out the position of the ship Proserpine, whose captain is senseless
ly drunk. After ten days’ murky weather, “ the sky suddenly cleared,
and a rare opportunity occurred to take an observation. Hazel sug
gested to Wylie, the mate, the propriety of taking advantage of the
moment, as the fog-bank out of which they had just emerged would
soon envelop them again, and they had not more than an hour or so
of such observation available. The man gave a shuffling answer.
So he sought the captain in his cabin. He found him in bed. He
was dead drunk. On a shelf lay the instruments. These Hazel
took, and then looked round for the chronometers. They were safely
locked in their cases. He carried the instruments on deck, together
with a book of tables, and quietly began to make preparations, at
which Wylie, arresting his walk, gazed with utter astonishment ” (as
well he might).
“ ‘ Now, Mr. Wylie, I want the key of the chronometer-cases.’
“ ‘ Here is a chronometer, Mr. Hazel,’ said Helen, very innocently,
‘ if that is all you want.’
“ Hazel smiled, and explained that a ship’s clock is made to keep
the most exact time; that he did not require the time of the spot
where they were, but Greenwich time. He took the watch, however.
It was a large one for a lady to carry; but it was one of Frodsham’s
masterpieces.
“ ‘ Why, Miss Rolleston,’ said he, ‘ this watch must be two hours
slow. It marks ten o’clock; it is now nearly mid-day. Ah, I see,’ he
added, with a smile, ‘you have wound it regularly every day, but you
have forgotten to set it daily. Indeed, you may be right; it would be
a useless trouble, since we change our longitude hourly. Well, let us
suppose that this watch shows the exact time at Sydney, as I presume
it does, I can work the ship’s reckoning from that meridian, instead of
that of Greenwich.’ And he set about doing it.” Wylie, after some
angry words with Hazel, brings the chronometers and the charts.
Hazel “ verified Miss Rolleston’s chronometer, and, allowing for differ
ence of time, found it to be accurate. He returned it to her, and pro
ceeded to work on the chart. The men looked on; so did Wylie.
After a few moments, Hazel read as follows: ‘West longitude 146°
53' 18”. South latitude 35° 24'. The island of Oparo 1 and the Four
Crowns distant 420 miles on the N. N. E.,’ ” and so on. And, of course,
“ Miss Rolleston fixed her large, soft eyes on the young clergyman
with the undisguised admiration a woman is apt to feel for what she
does not understand.”
1 The island fixes the longitude at about It?0, otherwise I should have thought the 4
was a misprint for 7. In longitude 177° west, Sydney time would be about 2 hours slow,
but about 4 hours slow in longitude 147° west.
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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
The scene here described corresponds pretty closely, I have little
doubt, with one actually witnessed by the novelist, except only that
the captain or chief officer made the observations, and that either
there had not been ten days’ murky weather, or else that in the fore
noon, several hours at least before noon, an observation of the sun had
been made. The noon observation would give the latitude, and com
bined with a forenoon observation, would give the longitude, but
alone would be practically useless for that purpose. It is curious that
the novelist sets the longitude as assigned much more closely than the
latitude, and the value given would imply that the ship’s time was
known within less than a second. This would in any case be imprac
ticable ; but, from noon observations, the time could not be learned
within a minute at the least. The real fact is, that, to determine true
time, the seaman selects, not noon, as is commonly supposed, but a
time when the sun is nearly due east or due west. For then the sun’s
elevation changes most rapidly, and so gives the surest means of de
termining the time. The reader can easily see the rationale of this by
considering the case of an ordinary clock-hand. Suppose our only
means of telling the time was by noting how high the end of the min
ute-hand was: then, clearly, we should be apt to make a greater mistake in estimating the time, when the hand was near XII., than at any
other time, because then its end changes very slowly in height, and a
minute more or less makes very little difference. On the contrary,
when the hand was near III. and IX., we could in a very few seconds
note any change of the height of its extremity. In one case we could
not tell the time within a minute or two; in the other, we could tell it
within a few seconds.
But the noon observation would be wanted to complete the deter
mination of the longitude ; for, until the latitude was known, the cap
tain would not be aware what apparent path the sun was describing
in the heavens, and therefore would not know the time corresponding
to any particular solar observation. So that a passenger, curious in
watching the captain’s work, would be apt to infer that the noon ob
servations gave the longitude, since he would perceive that from them
the captain worked out both the longitude and the latitude.
It is curious that another and critical portion of the same enter
taining novel is affected by the mistake of the novelist on this subject.
After the scuttling of the Proserpine, and other events, Hazel and Miss
Rolleston are alone on an island in the Pacific. Hazel seeks to deter
mine their position, as one step toward escape. Now, “ you must
know that Hazel, as he lay on his back in the boat, had often, in a
half-drowsy way, watched the effect of the sun upon the boat’s mast:
it now stood, a bare pole, and at certain hours acted like the needle of
a dial by casting a shadow on the sands. Above all, he could see
pretty well, by means of this pole and its shadow, when the sun at
tained its greatest elevation. He now asked Miss Rolleston to assist
�FINDING THE WAY AT SEA.
7*7
him in making this observation exactly. She obeyed his instructions,
and, the moment the shadow reached its highest angle and showed the
minutest symptom of declension, she said ‘Now,’ and Hazel called out
in a loud voice ” (why did he do that ?) “ ‘ Noon ! ’ ‘ And forty nine
minutes past eight at Sydney,’ said Helen, holding out her chronome
ter ; for she had been sharp enough to get it ready of her own accord.
Hazel looked at her and at the watch with amazement and incredulity.
‘ What ? ’ said he. ‘ Impossible 1 You can’t have kept Sydney time
all this while.’ ‘ And pray why not ? ’ said Helen. ‘ Have you forgot
ten that some one praised me for keeping Sydney time ? it helped you
somehow or other to know where we were.’ ” After some discussion,
in which she shows how natural it was that she should have wound up
her watch every night, even when “ neither of them expected to see
the morning,” she asks to be praised. “ ‘ Praised ! ’ cried Hazel, ex
citedly, ‘ worshipped, you mean. Why, we have got the longitude by
means of your chronometer. It is wonderful ! It is providential. It
is the finger of Heaven. Pen and ink, and let me work it out.’ ” He
was “ soon busy calculating the longitude of Godsend Island.” What
follows is even more curiously erroneous. “ ‘ There,’ said he. ‘Now,
the latitude I must guess at by certain combinations. In the first
place the slight variation in the length of the days. Then I must try
and make a rough calculation of the sun’s parallax.’ ” (It would have
been equally to the purpose to have calculated how many cows’ tails
would reach to the moon.) “ ‘ And then my botany will help me a
little ; spices furnish a clew ; there are one or two that will not grow
outside the tropic,’ ” and so on. He finally sets the latitude between
the 26th and 33d parallels, a range of nearly 500 miles. The longi
tude, however, which is much more closely assigned, is wrong alto
gether, being set at 3 O3-J-0 west, as the rest of the story requires. For
Godsend Island is within not many days’ sail of Valparaiso. The
mistake has probably arisen from setting Sydney in west longitude in
stead of east longitude, 151° 14' ; for the difference of time, 3h. 11m.,
corresponds within a minute to the difference of longitude between
151° 14' west and 103-£° west.
Mere mistakes of calculation, however, matter little in such cases.
They do not affect the interest of a story even in such extreme cases
as in “Ivanhoe,” where a full century is dropped in such sort that
one of Richard I.’s knights holds converse with a contemporary of
the Conqueror, who, if my memory deceives me not, was Cœur de
Lion’s great-great-grandfather. It is a pity, however, that a nov
elist or indeed any writer should attempt to sketch scientific methods
with which he is not familiar. No discredit can attach to any per
son, not an astronomer, who does not understand the astronomical
processes for determining latitude and longitude, any more than to
one who, not being a lawyer, is unfamiliar with the rules of convey
ancing. But, when an attempt is made by a writer of fiction to give
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an exact description of any technical matter, it is as well to secure
correctness by submitting the description to some friend acquainted
with the principles of the subject. For, singularly enough, people pay
much more attention to these descriptions when met with in novels,
than when given in text-books of science, and they thus come to re
member thoroughly well precisely what they ought to forget. I think
for instance, that it may not improbably have been some recollection
of “ Foul Play” which led Mr. Lockyer to make the surprising state
ment that longitude is determined at sea by comparing chronometer
time with local time, which is found “ at noon by observing, with the
aid of a sextant, when the sun is at the highest point of its path.”
Our novelists really must not lead the students of astronomy astray in
this manner.
It will be clear to the reader, by this time, that the great point
in determining the longitude is, to have the true time of Greenwich
or some other reference station, in order that, by comparing this time
with ship-time, the longitude east or west of the reference station may
be ascertained. Ship-time can always be determined by a morning
or afternoon observation of the sun, or by observing a known star
when toward the east or west, at which time the diurnal motion
raises or depresses it most rapidly. The latitude being known, the
time of day (any given day) at which the sun or a star should have
any particular altitude is known also, and, therefore, conversely, when
the altitude of the sun or a star has been noted, the seaman has learned
the time of day. But to find Greenwich time is another matter;
and, without Greenwich time, ship-time teaches nothing as to the lon
gitude. How is the voyager at sea or in desert places to know the
exact time at Greenwich or some other fixed station? We have seen
that chronometers are used for this purpose; and chronometers are
now made so marvellously perfect in construction that they can be
trusted to show true time within a few seconds, under ordinary con
ditions. But it must not be overlooked that in long voyages a chro
nometer, however perfect its construction, is more liable to get wrong
than at a fixed station. That it is continually tossed and shaken is
something, but is not the chief trial to which it is exposed. The
great changes of temperature endured, when a ship passes from the
temperate latitudes across the torrid zone to the temperate zone
again, try a chronometer far more severely than any ordinary form of
motion. And then it is to be noted that a very insignificant time
error corresponds to a difference of longitude quite sufficient to occa
sion a serious error in the ship’s estimated position. For this reason
and for others, it is desirable to have some means of determining
Greenwich time independently of chronometers.
This, in fact, is the famous problem for the solution of which such
high rewards were offered and have been given.1 It was to solve this
1 For invention of the chronometer, Harrison (a Yorkshire carpenter, and the son of
�FINDING THE WAY AT SEA.
77D
problem that Whiston, the same who fondly imagined Newton was
afraid of him,1 suggested the use of bombs and mortars ; for which
Hogarth pilloried him in the celebrated mad-house scene of the Rake’s
Progress. Of course Whiston had perceived the essential feature of
all methods intended for determining the longitude. Any signal
which is recognizable, no matter by eye or ear, or in whatsoever way,
at both stations, the reference station and the station whose longitude
is required, must necessarily suffice to convey the time of one station
to the other. The absurdity of Whiston’s scheme lay in the implied
supposition that any form of ordnance could propel rocket-signals far
enough to be seen or heard in mid-ocean. Manifestly the only signals
available, when telegraphic communication is impossible, are signals
in the celestial spaces, for these alone can be discerned simultaneously
from widely-distant parts of the earth. It has been to such signals,
then, that men of science have turned for the required means of de
termining longitude.
Galileo was the first to point out that the satellites of Jupiter sup
ply a series of signals which might serve to determine the longitude.
When one of these bodies is eclipsed in Jupiter’s shadow, or passes
out of sight behind Jupiter’s disk, or reappears from eclipse or occul
tation, the phenomenon is one which can be seen from a whole hemi
sphere of the earth’s surface. It is as truly a signal as the appear
ance or disappearance of a light in ordinary night-signalling. If it
can be calculated beforehand that one of these events will take place
at any given hour of Greenwich time, then, from whatever spot the
phenomenon is observed, it is known there that the Greenwich hour
is that indicated. Theoretically, this is a solution of the famous
problem ; and Galileo, the discoverer of Jupiter’s four satellites,
thought he had found the means of determining the longitude with
great accuracy. Unfortunately, these hopes have not been realized.
At sea, indeed, except in the calmest weather, it is impossible to ob
serve the phenomena of Jupiter’s satellites, simply because the tele
scope cannot be directed steadily upon the planet. But even on land
Jupiter’s satellites afford but imperfect means of guessing at the
longitude. For, at present, their motions have not been thoroughly
mastered by astronomers, and though the Nautical Almanac gives
the estimated epochs for the various phenomena of the four satellites,
a carpenter) received £20,000. This sum had been offered for a marine chronometer
which would stand the test of two voyages of assigned length. Harrison labored fifty
years before he succeeded in meeting the required condition.
1 Newton, for excellent reasons, had opposed Whiston’s election to the Royal Society.
Like most small men, Whiston was eager to secure a distinction which, unless sponta
neously offered to him, could have conferred no real honor. Accordingly he was amusingly
indignant with Newton for opposing him. “ Newton perceived,” he wrote, “ that I could
not do as his other darling friends did, that is, learn of him without contradicting him
when I differed in opinion from him : he could not in his old age bear such contradiction,
and so he was afraid of me the last thirteen years of his life.”
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yet, owing to the imperfection of the tables, these epochs are often
found to be appreciably in error. There is yet another difficulty.
The satellites are not mere points, but, being in reality also as large
as or larger than our moon, they have disks of appreciable though
small dimensions. Accordingly, they do not vanish or reappear in
stantaneously, but gradually, the process lasting in reality several
seconds (a longer or shorter time, according to the particular satellites
considered), and the estimated moment of the phenomenon thus comes
to depend on the power of the telescope employed, or the skill or the
visual powers of the observer, or the condition of the atmosphere, and
so on. Accordingly, very little reliance could be placed on such ob
servations as a mean for determining the longitude with any consid
erable degree of exactness.
No other celestial phenomena present themselves except those
depending on the moon’s motions.1 All the planets, as well as the
sun and moon, traverse at various rates and in different paths the
sphere of the fixed stars. But the moon alone moves with sufficient
1 If but one star or a few would periodically (and quite regularly) “ go out ” for a few
moments, the intervals between such vanishings being long enough to insure that one
would not be mistaken in point of time for the next or following one, then it would be pos
sible to determine Greenwich or other reference time with great exactness. And here
one cannot but recognize an argument against the singular theory that the stars were in
tended simply as lights to adorn our heavens and to be of use to mankind. The ideolo
gists who have adopted this strange view can hardly show how the theory is consistent
with the fact that quite readily the stars (or a few of them) might have been so contrived
as to give man the means of travelling with much more security over the length and
breadth of his domain than is at present possible. In this connection I venture to quote
a passage in which Sir John Herschel has touched on the usefulness of the stars, in terms
which, were they not corrected by other and better-known passages in his writings,
might suggest that he had adopted the theory I have just mentioned: “The stars,” he
said, in an address to the Astronomical Society, in 1827, “ are landmarks of the universe;
and, amid the endless and complicated fluctuations of our system, seem placed by its
Creator as guides and records, not merely to elevate our minds by the contemplation
of what is vast, but to teach us to direct our actions by reference to what is immutable
in his works. It is indeed hardly possible to over-appreciate their value in this point
of view. Every well-determined star, from the moment its place is registered, becomes
to the astronomer, the geographer, the navigator, the surveyor, a point of departure
which can never deceive or fail him—the same forever and in all places, of a delicacy
so extreme as to be a test for every instrument yet invented by man, yet equally adapted
for the most ordinary purposes; as available for regulating a town-clock as for con
ducting a navy to the Indies; as effective for mapping down the intricacies of a petty
barony as for adjusting the boundaries of transatlantic empires. When once its place
has been thoroughly ascertained, and carefblly recorded, the brazen circle with which
the useful work was done may moulder, the marble pillar may totter on its base, and
the astronomer himself survive only in the gratitude of posterity; but the record remains,
and transfuses all its own exactness into every determination which takes it for a
groundwork, giving to inferior instruments, nay, even to temporary contrivances, and
to the observations of a few weeks or days, all the precision attained originally at the
cost of so much time, labor, and expense.” It is only necessary, as a corrective to the
erroneous ideas which might otherwise be suggested by this somewhat high-flown pas
sage, to quote the following remarks from the work which represented Sir John Her-
�FINDING THE WAY AT SEA.
731
rapidity to act as a time indicator for terrestrial voyagers. It is hardly
necessary to explain why rapidity of motion is important; but the
following illustration may be given for the purpose. The hour-hand
of a clock does in reality indicate the minute as well as the hour;
yet, owing to the slowness of its motion, we regard the hour-hand as
an unsatisfactory time-indicator, and only consider it as showing what
hour is in progress. So with the more slowly-moving celestial bodies.
They would serve well enough, at least some among them would, to
show the day of the year, if we could only imagine that such informa
tion were ever required from celestial bodies. But it would be hope
less to attempt to ascertain the true time with any degree of accuracy
from their motions. Now, the moon really moves with considerable
rapidity among the stars.1 She completes the circuit of the celestial
sphere in 27£ days (a period less than the common lunation), so that
in one day she traverses about 13°, or her own diameter (which is
rather more than half a degree), in about an hour. This, astronomi
cally speaking, is very rapid motion; and, as it can be detected in a
few seconds by telescopic comparison of the moon’s place with that
of some fixed star, it serves to show the time within a few seconds,
which is precisely what is required by the seaman. Theoretically, all
he has to do is, to take the moon’s apparent distance from a known
star, and also her height and the star’s height above the horizon.
Thence he can calculate what would be the moon’s distance from the
star at the moment of observation, if the observer were at the earth’s
centre. But the Nautical Almanac informs him of the precise instant
of Greenwich time corresponding to this calculated distance. So he
has, what he requires, the true Greenwich time.
It will be manifest that all methods of finding the way at sea,
except the rough processes depending on the log and compass, re
quire that the celestial bodies, or some of them, should be seen.
Hence it is that cloudy weather, for any considerable length of time,
occasions danger, and sometimes leads to shipwreck and loss of life.
Of course the captain of a ship proceeds with extreme caution when
the weather has long been cloudy, especially if, according to his reck
oning, he is drawing near shore. Then the lead comes into play, that
by soundings, if possible, the approach to shore may be indicated,
schel’s more matured views, his well-known “ Outlines of Astronomy:” “For what
purpose are we to suppose such magnificent bodies scattered through the abyss of
space ? Surely not to illuminate our nights, which an additional moon of the thousandth
part of the size of our own world would do much better; nor to sparkle as a pageant
void of meaning and reality, and bewilder us among vain conjectures. Useful, it is
true, they are to man as points of exact and permanent reference, but he must have
studied astronomy to little purpose, who can suppose man to be the only object of his
Creator’s care; or who does not see, in the vast and wonderful apparatus around us,
provision for other races of animated beings.”
1 It was this doubtless which led to the distinction recognized in the book of Job,
where the moon is described as “ walking in brightness.”
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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
Then, also, by day and night, a careful watch is kept for the signs of
land. But it sometimes happens that, despite all such precautions, a
ship is lost; for there are conditions of weather which, occurring when
a ship is nearing shore, render the most careful lookout futile. These
conditions may be regarded as included among ordinary sea-risks, by
which term are understood all such dangers as would leave a captain
blameless if shipwreck occurred. It would be well if no ships were
ever lost save from ordinary sea-risks; but, unfortunately, ships are
sometimes cast ashore for want of care ; either in maintaining due
watch as the shore is approached, or taking advantage of oppor
tunities, which may be few and far between, for observing sun, or
moon, or stars, as the voyage proceeds. It may safely be said that
the greater number of avoidable shipwrecks have been occasioned by
the neglect of due care in finding the way at sea.
SECULAR PROPHECY.
LTHOUGH prophecy is usually supposed to be the special gift
of inspiration, nothing comes more glibly from secular pens.
Half of the leading articles in the daily newspapers are more or less
disguised predictions. The prophecies of the Times are more numer
ous, more confident, and more explicit, than those of Jeremiah or Isaiah.
“ Secular Prophecy fulfilled” would be a good title for a book written
after the model of those old and half-educated divines who zealously
looked through Isaiah, Jeremiah, Daniel, and the Apocalypse, for
shadowy hints that Hildebrand would enforce celibacy on the clergy
of the Latin Church ; that Luther would cut up the Christianity of the
West into two sections; that Cromwell would sign the death-warrant
of Charles I.; and that the Stuarts would become wanderers over the
face of the earth. There are still, we believe, devout, mystical, and
studious sectaries, who find such events as the disestablishment of
the Irish Church and the meeting of the Vatican Council plainly fore
told in the book of Revelation. They also find Mr. Gladstone’s name
written in letters of fire by inspired pens that left their record while
the captivity of Babylon was a recent memory, or while Nero was the
scourge of the Church. Nay, Dr. Cumming, who is as different from
those mystical interpreters as a smart Yankee trader is from Parson
Adams, sees that the Prophet Daniel and St. John had a still more
minute acquaintance with the home and Continental politics of these
latter days. But “ Secular Prophecy fulfilled ” would show a much
more wonderful series of glimpses into the future than we find in the
interpretations of Dr. Cumming, and it would certainly bring together
a strange set of soothsayers.
�SECULAR PROPHECY.
733
Arthur Young, Lord Chesterfield, and William Cobbett, are not
exactly the kind of men whom we should expect to find among the
prophets. Arthur Young was a shrewd traveller, with a keen eye for
leading facts, and a remarkable power of describing what he saw in
plain, homely words. Chesterfield was a literary and philosophical
dandy, who, richly furnished with the small coin of wisdom, and fear
ing nothing so much as indecorum, would have been a great teacher
if the earth had been a drawing-room. Cobbett was a coarse, rough
English farmer, with an extraordinary power of reasoning at the dic
tate of his prejudices, and with such a faculty of writing racy, vigorous
English as excites the admiration and the despair of scholars. It seems
almost ludicrous to speak of such men as prophets. And yet Arthur
Young foretold the coming of the French Revolution at a time when
the foremost men of France did not dream that the greatest of political
convulsions was soon to lay low the proudest of monarchies. And the
dandified morality of Lord Chesterfield did not prevent him from
making a similar prediction. Cobbett made a guess which was still
more notable ; for, at the beginning of the present century, he foretold
the secession of the Southern States. But the most remarkable of all
the secular prophets who have spoken to our time is Heine. He might
seem indeed to have been a living irony on the very name of prophet,
for he read backward all the sanctities of religion and all the com
mands of the moral law. Essentially a humorist, to whom life seemed
now the saddest of mysteries, and now the most laughable of jokes, he
made sport of every thing that he touched. His most fervid English
devotee, Mr. Matthew Arnold, is forced to admit that he was pro
foundly disrespectable. He quarrelled with his best friends for frivo
lously petty reasons, and he repaid their kindness by writing lampoons
which are masterpieces at once of literary skill and of malignity.
Neither Voltaire nor Pope scattered calumnies with such a lack of scru
ple, and Byron himself was not a more persistent or more systematic
voluptuary. Yet Heine was so true a prophet that his predictions
might have been accounted the work of inspiration if he had been as
famed for piety or purity as he was notorious for irreligion and profli
gacy. He predicted that Germany and France would fight, and that
France would be utterly put down. He predicted that the line of for
tifications which M. Thiers was then building round Paris would draw
to the capital a great hostile army, and that they would crush the
city as if they were a contracting iron shroud. He predicted that the
Communists would some day get the upper hand in Paris, that they
would strike in a spirit of fiendish rage at the statues, the beautiful
buildings, and all the other tangible marks of the civilization which
they sought to destroy; that they would throw down the Vendome
Column in their hate of the man who had made France the foe of
every other people ; and that they would further show their execration
for his memory by taking his ashes from the Invalides and flinging
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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
them into the Seine. All these predictions, save the last, have been
fulfilled to the letter, and it would need a bolder prophet than even
Heine himself to say that the last will not be verified also. For
nothing is more remarkable in France than the success with which the
International is teaching the artisans that the first as well as the third
Napoleon was the worst enemy of their class. Although they still
regard his achievements with pride, they fervently believe that he was
the foe of their order, and the acts of the Commune showed their
eagerness to insult his name. And there may be another Commune.
Intrepid prophets would say that there certainly will be another. If
that should happen, it is quite possible that the fanatics of the In
ternational may fling the ashes of the great soldier into the Seine to
mark their abhorrence of military glory.
Prevost-Paradol was as different from Heine as a gifted voluptuary
can be from a polished, fastidious, and decorous gentleman. Yet the
refined, reserved, satirical Orleanist, who seemed to be uncomfortable
when his hands were not encased in kid gloves, and who was a mas
ter of all the literary resources of innuendo, would be as much out of
place among the Hebrew prophets as Heine himself. He would find
a place, nevertheless, in “ Secular Prophecy fulfilled,” by reason of
the startling exactness with which he foretold the outbreak of the
war between his own country and Germany. In a passage which
promises to become classic, he said that the two nations were like
two trains which, starting from opposite points, and placed on the
same line of rails, were driven toward each other at full speed.
There must be a collision. The only doubt was, where it would
happen, and when, and with what results. De Tocqueville better
fulfilled the traditionary idea of a prophet, and there is a startling
accuracy in some of the predictions as to the future of France which
he flung forth in talking with his friends, and of which we find a
partial record in the journal of Mr. Nassau Senior. Eighteen years
before the fall of the empire, he predicted that it would wreck itself
“ in some extravagant foreign enterprise.” “ War,” he added, “ would
assuredly be its death, but its death would perhaps cost dear.” M.
Renan also aspires to a place among the prophets, and he has made
a prediction which may be a subject of some curiosity when the next
pope shall be elected. The Church of Rome will not, he says, be
split up by disputes about doctrine. But he does look for a schism,
and it will come, he thinks, when some papal election shall be deemed
invalid; when there shall be two competing pontiffs, and Europe
shall see a renewal of the strife between Rome and Avignon.
It may be said, no doubt, that the verified predictions which we
have cited are only stray hits; that the oracles make still more re
markable misses; and that, since guesses about the future are shot off
every hour of the day, it would be a marvel if the bull’s-eye were not
struck sometimes. Such a theory might suffice to account for the hits,
�SECULAR PROPHECY.
735
if the prophecies were let off in the dark and at random ; but that is
not the case. It is easy to trace the path along which the mind of
Heine or De Tocqueville travelled to the results of the future, and.
their predictions betray nothing more wonderful than a rare power of
drawing correct inferences from confused facts. A set of general rules
might be laid down as a guide to prophecy. In the first place, we
might give the negative caution that the analogy of past events is mis
leading, because the same set of conditions does not appear at two
different times, and an almost unseen element might suffice to deter
mine an all-important event. Forgetting this fact, Archbishop Man
ning has ventured into the field of prophecy with the argument that
Catholics should not be made uneasy because the pope has lost his
temporal power, for they should remember that he has again and
again suffered worse calamities, and has then won back all his old au
thority. Between 1378 and 1418 the Church witnessed the scandal of
a schism, in which there were rival popes, and in which Rome and
Avignon competed for the mastery. That calamity is worse than any
which has come to the Church in our days, yet the Papacy regained
its old power and glory. So late as within the present century the
temporal power was reduced to nullity by the first Napoleon, and
Pius TX. himself had to flee from Rome in the beginning of his reign.
Why, then, should not the robber-band of Victor Emmanuel be
paralyzed in turn, and the Papacy once more regain its old splendor ?
Not being ambitious to play the part of prophets, we do not undertake
to say whether the Papacy will or will not again climb or be flung into
its ancient place, but it is not the less certain that Archbishop Man
ning’s prophecy is a conspicuous example of a false inference. When
he argues that a pope in the nineteenth century will again be the tem
poral ruler of Rome because a pope triumphed over the schism of
Avignon in the fifteenth, he forgets that the lapse of centuries has
wrought a vast change of conditions. At the end of the fourteenth
century a keen onlooker, a Heine or a De Tocqueville, might have con
fidently foretold that a pope of unquestioned authority would soon
govern the historic city of the Papacy, because the political and the
social interests of Europe, no less than the piety or superstition of the
times, required that the pope should be powerful and free. The cur
rent of the age, if we may use the philosophical slang, was running
from Avignon to Rome in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and
now the current of the age is not less distinctly running against the
temporal power. The very reasons which would have led a prophet
in 1400 to predict that Rome would again be the unquestioned seat of
the Papacy would lead the same soothsayer to affirm in 1873 that the
temporal power has been shattered forever.
It is in general causes that we find the guide of prophecy. Mr.
Buckle attached so much importance to the physical conditions of a
country, the food of a people, the air they breathe, the occupations
�736
I HE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
which they are forced to follow, and the habits of thought which they
display, that he undertook to tell the end of a nation from the begin
ning. Spain was no mystery to him when he remembered that it had
originally been a country of volcanoes ; that the people had conse
quently been filled with a dread of the unseen and inscrutable power
which reveals itself in convulsions of the earth; that their diseased
fear of shadowy influences made them resent the teachings of science,
and hence left them an easy prey to the Holy Office and Ignatius
Loyola when Luther, Calvin, and Zwingle, drew away from sacerdotal
ism all the Christianity of Northern Europe. There can be no doubt
that Buckle’s theory did rest on a basis of truth, and that it erred
simply by trying to account for every thing. In fact, it is not spe
cially his doctrine, but simply the rigid and systematized application
of a principle which is as old as speculative curiosity. We apply it
every day of our lives. If a family go into a badly-drained house,
we say the chances are that they will have typhus, diarrhoea, or chol
era. If a rich and foolish young man bets largely on the turf, the prob
ability is that he will be ruined. And the statistician comes to help
us with a set of tables which throw uncomfortable light on the me
chanical character of those mental and moral processes which might
seem to be determined by the unprompted bidding of our own wills.
Mr. Buckle was no doubt beguiled by a mere dream when he fancied
that we could account for every turn and winding in the history of a
country if we had only a large knowledge of its general conditions,
such as the temperature of the land, the qualities of the soil, the food
of the people, and their relations to their neighbors. He paid too
little heed to subtle qualities of race, and he did not make sufficient
allowance for the disturbing force of men gifted with extraordinary
power of brain and will. Still it is a mere truism that the more cor
rectly and fully we know the general condition of a country, the more
does mystery vanish from its history, and the successive events tend
to take their place in orderly sequence.
It is impossible, however, to prophesy by rule, and such system
mongers as Mr. Buckle would be the most treacherous of all ora<?les.
Their hard and fast canons will not bend into the subtle crevices of
human life. Men who are so ostentatiously logical that they cannot
do a bit of thinking without the aid of a huge apparatus of sharplycut principles always lack a keen scent for truth. They blunder by
rule when less showy people find their way by mother-wit. Hence
they are the worst of all prophets. It was not by counting up how
many things tell in one way, and how many tell in another, that Heine
and De Tocqueville were able to guess correctly what was coming, but
by watching the chief currents of the age, or, as more homely folk
would say, by finding out which way the wind was blowing. They
had to decide which among many social, religious, or political forces
were the strongest, and which would be the most lasting. They had
�SYMPATHETIC VIBRATIONS IN MACHINERY. 737
to give a correct decision as to the stability of particular institutions
and the strength of popular passions. General rules could not be of
much avail, and they had to rely on their knowledge of human nature,
their acquaintance with the forces which have been at work in history,
and their own sagacity. Most likely Heine could not have given such
an explanation of the grounds on which he made his predictions as
would have satisfied any average jury of historical students. But he
could have said that he knew the working-men of Paris; that his
power of poetic sympathy enabled him to see how their minds veered
toward socialism, and he also knew what forces were on the side of
order; and that a mental comparison of the two made him look with
certainty to a ferocious outbreak of democratic passion. Being thus
sure that the storm would come, he had next to ask himself which
points the lightning would strike, and he looked for the most promi
nent symbols of kingship, wealth, refinement, and military glory. The
Tuileries would be a mark for the fury of the mob, because that was
the palace of the man who had destroyed the populace. The public
offices must go, because they represented what the bourgeois called order
and the workmen called tyranny. The Louvre must go, for the mere
sake of maddening rich people who took a delight in art. And the
Vendóme Column must go, because it glorified a man who was the in
carnation of the w ar-spirit, and who was consequently the w’orst foe
of the working-classes. To a select committee of the House of Com
mons such reasons would have seemed the dreams of a moon-struck
visionary, and they certainly did not admit of being logically defended.
No prophecy does. The power of predicting events is the power of
guessing, and those guess best who are least dependent on rules, and
most gifted with the mother-wit which works with the quietude and
unconsciousness of instinct.—Saturday Review.
4«»
SYMPATHETIC VIBRATIONS IN MACHINERY.*
By Pbof. J. LOVEEING,
.
OF HARVARD COLLEGE.
T the meeting of this Association in Burlington, I showed some
experiments in illustration of the optical method of making sen
sible the vibrations of the column of air in an organ-pipe. At the
Chicago meeting I demonstrated the way in which the vibrations of
strings could be studied by the eye in place of the ear, when these
strings were attached to tuning-forks with which they could vibrate in
sympathy; substituting for the small forks, originally used by Melde,
A
1 From the Proceedings of the Twenty-first Meeting of the American Association for
the Advancement of Science.
—47
vol. hi.
�738
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
a colossal tuning-fork, the prongs of which were placed between the
poles of a powerful electro-magnet. This fork, which interrupted
the battery current, at the proper time, by its own motion, was
able to put a heavy cord, thirty feet in length, in the most ener
getic vibration, and for an indefinite time. I propose, at the present
time, to speak of those sympathetic vibrations which are pitched so
low as not to come within the limits of human ears, but which are
felt rather than heard, and to show how they may be seen as well
as felt.
All structures, large or small, simple or complex, have a definite
rate of vibration, depending on their materials, size, and shape, and as
fixed as the fundamental note of a musical cord. They may also vi
brate in parts, as the cord does, and thus be capable of various increas
ing rates of vibration, which constitute their harmonics. If one body
vibrates, all others in the neighborhood will respond, if the rate of
vibration in the first agrees with their own principal or secondary
rates of vibration, even when no more substantial bond than the air
unites a body with its neighbors. In this way, mechanical disturb
ances, harmless in their origin, assume a troublesome and perhaps a
dangerous character, when they enter bodies all too ready to move at
the required rate, and sometimes beyond the sphere of their stability.
When the bridge at Colebrooke Dale (the first iron bridge in the
world) was building, a fiddler came along and said to the workmen
that he could fiddle their bridge down. The builders thought this
boast a fiddle-de-dee, and invited the itinerant musician to fiddle away
to his heart’s content. One note after another was struck upon the
strings until one was found with which the bridge was in sympathy.
When the bridge began to shake violently, the incredulous workmen
were alarmed at the unexpected result, and ordered the fiddler to stop.
At one time, considerable annoyance was experienced in one of
the mills in Lowell, because the walls of the building and the floors
were violently shaken by the machinery: so much so that, on certain
days, a pail of water would be nearly emptied of its contents, while on
other days all was quiet. Upon investigation it appeared that the
building shook in response to the motion of the machinery only when
that moved at a particular rate, coinciding with one of the harmoriics
of the structure ; and the simple remedy for the trouble consisted in
making the machinery move at a little more or a little less speed, so
as to put it out of time with the building.
We can easily believe that, in many cases, these violent vibrations
will loosen the cement and derange the parts of a building, so that it
may afterward fall under the pressure of a weight which otherwise
it was fully able to bear, and at a time, possibly, when the machinery
is not in motion; and this may have something to do with such acci
dents as that which happened to the Pemberton Mills in Lawrence.
Large trees are uprooted in powerful gales, because the wind comes in
�SYMPATHETIC VIBRATIONS IN MACHINERY,
gusts; and, if these gusts happen to be timed in accordance with the
natural swing of the tree, the effect is irresistible. The slow vibra
tions which proceed from the largest pipes of a large organ, and
which are below the range of musical sounds, are able to shake the
walls and floors of a building so as to be felt, if not heard, thereby
furnishing a background of noise on which the true musical sounds
may be projected.
We have here the reason of the rule observed by marching ar
mies when they cross a bridge; viz., to stop the music, break step,
and open column, lest the measured cadence of a condensed mass of
men should urge the bridge to vibrate beyond its sphere of cohesion.
A neglect of this rule has led to serious accidents. The Broughton
bridge, near Manchester, gave way beneath the measured tread of
only sixty men who were marching over it. The celebrated engineer,
Robert Stephenson, has remarked 1 that there is not so much danger
to a bridge, when it is crowded with men or cattle, or if cavalry are
passing over it, as when men go over it in marching order. A
chain-bridge crosses the river Dordogne on the road to Bordeaux.
One of the Stephensons passed over it in 1845, and was so much struck
with its defects, although it had been recently erected, that he noti
fied the authorities in regard to them. A few years afterward it
gave way when troops were marching over it.’
A few years ago, a terrible disaster befell a battalion of French
infantry, while crossing the suspension-bridge at Angers, in France.
Reiterated warnings were given to the troops to break into sections,
as is usually done. But the rain was falling heavily, and, in the hurry
of the moment, the orders were disregarded. The bridge, which was
only twelve years old, and which had been repaired the year before at
a cost of $7,000, fell, and 280 dead bodies were found, besides many
who were wounded. Among the killed or drowned were the chief of
battalion and four other officers. Many of the guns were bent double,
and one musket pierced completely through the body of a soldier.
The wholesale slaughter at the bridge of Beresina, in Russia, when
Napoleon was retreating from Moscow, in 1812, and his troops crowded
upon the bridge and broke it, furnishes a fitting parallel to this great
calamity.
When Galileo set a pendulum in strong vibration by blowing on it
whenever it was moving away from his mouth, he gave a good illus
tration of the way in which small but regularly-repeated disturbances
grow into consequence. Tyndall tells us that the Swiss muleteers tie
up the bells of the mules, for fear that the tinkle should bring an
avalanche down. The breaking of a drinking-glass by the human
voice, when its fundamental note is sounded, is a well-authenticated
feat; and Chladni mentions an innkeeper who frequently repeated the
1 Edinburgh Philosophical Journal, vol. v., p. 255.
• Smiles’s “ Life of Stephenson,” p. 390.
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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
experiment for the entertainment of his guests and his own profit.
The nightingale is said to kill by the power of its notes. The bark of
a dog is able to call forth a response from certain strings of the piano.
And a curious passage has been pointed out in the Talmud, which dis
cusses the indemnity to be claimed when a vessel is broken by the
voice of a domestic animal. If we enter the domain of music, there
is no end to the illustrations which might be given of these sympathetic
vibrations. They play a conspicuous part in most musical instru
ments, and the sounds which these instruments produce would be
meagre and ineffective without them.
In the case of vibrations which are simply mechanical, without
being audible, or at any rate musical, the following ocular demonstra
tion may be given: A train of wheels, set in motion by a strong
spring wound up in a drum, causes an horizontal spindle to revolve
with great velocity. Two pieces of apparatus like this are placed at
the opposite sides of a room. On the ends of the spindles which face
one another are attached buttons about an inch in diameter, The two
ends of a piece of white tape are fastened to the rims of these buttons.
When the spindles, with the attached buttons, revolve, the two ends of
the tape revolve, and in such directions as to prevent the tape from twistunless the velocities are different. Even if the two trains of wheels
move with unequal velocities, when independent of each other, the
motions tend to uniformity when the two spindles are connected by
the tape. Now, by moving slightly the apparatus at one end of the
room, the tape may be tightened or loosened. If the tape is tight
ened, its rate of vibration is increased, and, at the same time, the ve
locity of the spindles is diminished on account of the greater resist
ance. If the tape is slackened, its rate of vibration is less, and the
velocity of the spindles is greater. By this change we can readily
bring the fundamental vibi’ation of the tape into unison with the machinery, and then the tape responds by a vibration of great amplitude,
visible to all beholders. If we begin gradually to loosen the tape, it
soon ceases to respond, on account of the twofold effect already de
scribed, until the time comes when the velocity of the machinery ac
cords with the first harmonic of the tape, and the latter divides beau
tifully into two vibrating segments with a node at the middle. As
the tension slowly diminishes, the different harmonics are successively
developed, until finally the tape is broken up into numerous segments
only an inch or two in length. The eye is as much delighted by this
visible music as the ear could be if the vibrations were audible; and
the optical demonstration has this advantage, that all may see, while
few have musical ears. A tape is preferred to a cord in this experi
ment, because it is better seen, and any accidental twist it may ac
quire is less troublesome.
�SPECULATION IN SCIENCE.
741
SPECULATION IN SCIENCE.1
By Pbof. J. LAWRENCE SMITH.
NOW pass to the second part of my discourse. It is in reference
to the methods of modern science—the caution to be observed in
pursuing it, if we do not wish to pervert its end by too confident as
sertions and deductions.
It is a very common attempt, nowadays, for scientists to transcend
the limits of their legitimate studies, and in doing this they run into
speculations apparently the most unphilosophical, wild, and absurd;
quitting the true basis of inductive philosophy, and building up the
most curious theories on little else than assertion; speculating upon
the merest analogy; adopting the curious views of some metaphysi
cians, as Edward von Hartmann; striving to work out speculative
results by the inductive method of natural science.
And such an example as this is of great value to the reflective
mind, teaching caution, and demonstrating the fact that, while the
rules by which we are guided in scientific research are far in advance
of those of ancient days, we must not conclude that they are perfect
by any means. In our modern method of investigation how many
conspicuous examples of deception we have had in pursuing even the
best method of investigation ! Take, for instance, the science of ge
ology, from the time of Werner to the present day. While we always
thought we had the true interpretation of the structural phenomena
of the globe, as we progressed from year to year, yet how vastly dif
ferent are our interpretations of the present day from what they were
in the time of Werner! In chemistry, the same thing is true. How
clearly were all things explained to the chemist of the last century by
Phlogiston, which, in the present century, receive no credence, and
chemical phenomena are now viewed in an entirely different light!
Lavoisier, in the latter part of the last century, elucidated the phe
nomena of respiration and the production of animal heat by one of the
most beautiful theories, based, to all appearances, upon well-observed
facts; yet, at the present day, more delicate observations, and the
discovery of the want of balance between the inhaled oxygen and ex
haled carbonic acid, subverted that beautiful theory, and we are left
entirely without one. It is true we have collated a number of facts
in regard to respiration, molecular changes in the tissues, etc., all of
which are recognized as having something to do with animal heat;
still it is acknowledged that we are incapable of giving any concrete
expression to the phenomena of respiration and animal heat as La
voisier did eighty or ninety years ago.
I
1 Abstract of the address before the American Association for the Advancement of
Science, at its late meeting in Portland, Me., by the retiring president.
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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
Electricity is the same now as it has ever been, yet it was once
spoken of as a fluid, then as a force, now as an energy readily con
vertible into caloric or mechanical energy; and in what light it will
be considered fifty years hence no one can predict.
Now, what I desire to enforce here is, that amid all these changes
and revolutions of theories, so called, it is simply man, the inter
preter, that has erred, and not Nature; her laws are the same; we
simply have not been able to read them correctly, and perhaps never
will be.
AVhat, it may be asked, are we to do, then ? Must we cease
theorizing ? Not at all. The lesson to be learned from this is to be
more modest in our generalizations; to generalize as far as our carefully-made-out facts will permit us, and no further; check the imagina
tion, and let it not run riot and shipwreck us upon some metaphysical
quicksand.
The fact is, it becomes a question whether there is such a thing as
pure theory in science. No true scientific theory deserves the name
that is not based on verified hypothesis; in fact, it is but a concise in
terpretation of the deductions of scientific facts. Dumas has well said
that theories are like crutches, the strength of them is, to be tested
by attempting to walk with them. And I might further add, that very
often scientists, who are without sure-footed facts to carry them along,
take to these crutches.
It is common to speak of the theory of gravitation, when there is
nothing purely hypothetical in connection with the manner in which it
was studied; in it we only see a clear generalization of observed laws
which govern the mutual attraction of bodies. If at any time New
ton did assume an hypothesis, it was only for the purpose of facilitat
ing his calculations: “Newton’s passage from the falling of an apple
to the falling of a moon was at the outset a leap of the imagination; ”
but it was this hypothesis, verified by mathematics, which gave to the
so-called theory of gravitation its present status.
In regard to light, we are in the habit of connecting with it a pure
hypothesis, viz., the impressions of light being produced by emission
from luminous bodies, or by the undulation of an all-pervading, at
tenuated medium; and these hypotheses are to be regarded as probable
so long as the phenomena of light are explained by them, and no
longer. The failure to explain one single well-observed fact is suffi
cient to cast doubt upon or subvert any pure hypothesis, as has been
the case with the emission theory of light, and may be the fate of the
undulatory theory, which, however, up to the present time, serves in
all cases.
It is not my object to criticise the speculations of any one or more
of the modern scientists who have carried their investigations into
the world of the imagination; in fact, it could not be done in a dis
course so limited as this, and one only intended as a prologue to the
�SPECULATION IN SCIENCE.
743
present meeting. But, in order to illustrate this subject of method
more fully, I will refer to Darwin, whose name has become synonymous
with progressive development and natural selection, which we had
thought had died out with Lamarck fifty years ago. In Darwin we
have one of those philosophers whose great knowledge of animal and
vegetable life is only transcended by his imagination. In fact, he is
to be regarded more as a metaphysician with a highly-wrought im
agination than as a scientist, although a man having a most wonderful
knowledge of the facts of natural history. In England and America
we find scientific men of the profoundest intellects differing completely
in regard to his logic, analogies, and deductions; and in Germany and
France the same thing—in the former of these countries some specu
lators saying that “his theory is our starting-point,” and in France
many of her best scientific men not ranking the labors of Darwin with
those of pure science. Darwin takes up the law of life, and runs it
into progressive development. In doing this, he seems to me to in
crease the embarrassment which surrounds us on looking into the mys
teries of creation. He is not satisfied to leave the laws of life where
he finds them, or to pursue their study by logical and inductive rea
soning. His method of reasoning will not allow him to remain at
rest; he must be moving onward in his unification of the universe.
He started with the lower order of animals, and brought them through
their various stages of progressive development until he supposed he
had touched the confines of man ; he then seems to have recoiled, and
hesitated to pass the boundary which separated man from the lower
order of animals ; but he saw that all his previous logic was bad if he
stopped there, so man was made from the ape (with which no one can
find fault, if the descent be legitimate). This stubborn logic pushes
him still further, and he must find some connecting link between that
most remarkable property of the human face called expression; so his
ingenuity has given us a very curious and readable treatise on that
subject. Yet still another step must be taken in this linking together
man and the lower order of animals ; it is in connection with language;
and before long it is not unreasonable to expect another production
from that most wonderful and ingenious intellect on the connection be
tween the language of man and the brute creation.
Let us see for a moment what this reasoning from analogy would
lead us to. The chemist has as much right to revel in the imaginary
formation of sodium from potassium, or iodine and bromine from
chlorine, by a process of development, and call it science, as for the
naturalist to revel in many of his wild speculations, or for the physicist
who studies the stellar space to imagine it permeated by mind as well
as light—mind such as has formed the poet, the statesman, or the
philosopher. Yet any chemist who would quit his method of investi
gation, of marking every foot of his advance by some indelible im
print, and go back to the speculations of Albertus Magnus, Roger
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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
Bacon, and other alchemists of former ages, would soon he dropped
from the list of chemists and ranked with dreamers and speculators.
What I have said is, in my humble opinion, warranted by the de
parture Darwin and others have made from true science in their purely
speculative studies; and neither he nor any other searcher after truth
expects to hazard great and startling opinions without at the same
time courting and desiring criticism; yet dissension from his views in
no way proves him wrong—it only shows how his ideas impress the
minds of other men. And just here let me contrast the daring of
Darwin with the position assumed by one of the great French natural
ists of the present day, Prof. Quatrefages, in a recent discourse of his
on the physical character of the human race. In referring to the ques
tion of the first origin of man, he says distinctly that, in his opinion,
it is one that belongs not to science; these questions are treated
by theologians and philosophers: “Neither here nor at the Museum
am I, nor do I wish to be, either a theologian or a philosopher. I
am simply a man of science; and it is in the name of comparative
physiology, of botanical and zoological geography, of geology and
paleontology, in the name of the laws which govern man as well as
animals and plants, that I have always spoken.” And, studying man
as a scientist, he goes on to say: “ It is established that man has two
grand faculties, of which we find not even a trace among animals. He
alone has the moral sentiment of good and evil; he alone believes in
a future existence succeeding this natural life; he alone believes in
beings superior to himself, that he has never seen, and that are capable
of influencing his life for good or evil; in other words, man alone is
endowed with morality and religion.” Our own distinguished nat
uralist and associate, Prof. Agassiz, reverts to this theory of evolution
in the same positive manner, and with such earnestness and warmth
as to call forth severe editorial criticisms, by his speaking of it as a
“ mere mine of assertions,” and the “ danger of stretching inferences
from a few observations to a wide field; ” and he is called upon to col
lect 11 real observations to disprove the evolution hypothesis.” I
would here remark, in defence of my distinguished friend, that scien
tific investigation will assume a curious phase when its votaries are
required to occupy time in looking up facts, and seriously attempting
to disprove any and every hypothesis based upon proof, some of it
not even rising to the dignity of circumstantial evidence.
I now come to the last point to which I wish to call the attention
of the members of the Association in the pursuit of their investiga
tions, and the speculations that these give rise to in their minds. Ref
erence has already been made to the tendency of quitting the physical
to revel in the metaphysical, which, however, is not peculiar to this
age, for it belonged as well to the times of Plato and Aristotle as it
does to ours. More special reference will be made here to the pro
clivity of the present epoch among philosophers and theologians to be
�SPECULATION IN SCIENCE.
745
parading science and religion side by side, talking of reconciling sci
ence and religion, as if they have ever been unreconciled. Scientists
and theologians may have quarrelled, but never science and religion.
At dinners they are toasted in the same breath, and calls made on cler
gymen to respond, who, for fear of giving offence, or lacking the fire
and firmness of St. Paul, utter a vast amount of platitudes about the
beauty of science and the truth of religion, trembling in theii* shoes
all the time, fearing that science falsely so called may take away their
professional calling, instead of uttering in a voice of thunder, like the
Boanerges of the Gospel, that the “ world by wisdom knew not God.”
And it never will. Our religion is made so plain by the light of faith
that the wayfaring man, though a fool, cannot err therein.
No, gentlemen, I firmly believe that there is less connection be
tween science and religion than there is between jurisprudence and
astronomy, and the sooner this is understood the better it will be for
both. Religion is based upon revelations as given to us in a book, the
contents of which are never changed, and of which there have been no
revised or corrected editions since it was first given, except so far as
man has interpolated; a book more or less perfectly understood by
mankind, but clear and unequivocal in all essential points concerning
the relation of man to his Creator; a book that affords practical di
rections, but no theory; a book of facts, and not of arguments ; a book
that has been damaged more by theologians than by all the panthe
ists and atheists that have ever lived and turned their invectives
against it—and no one source of mischief on the part of theologians is
greater than that of admitting the profound mystery of many parts
of it, and almost in the next breath attempting some sort of explana
tion of these mysteries. The book is just what Richard Whately says
it is, viz., “ Not the philosophy of the human mind, nor yet the philos
ophy of the divine nature in itself, but (that which is properly religion)
the relation and connection of the two beings—what God is to us,
what he has done and will do for us, and what we are to be in regard
to him.” . . . Let us stick to science, pure, unadulterated science, and
leave to religion things which pertain to it; for science and religion
are like two mighty rivers flowing toward the same ocean, and, before
reaching it, they will meet and mingle their pure streams, and flow
together into that vast ocean of truth which encircles the throne
of the great Author of all truth, whether pertaining to science or
to religion. And I will here, in defence of science, assert that there
is a greater proportion of its votaries who now revere and honor re
ligion in its broadest sense, as understood by the Christian world, than
that of any other of the learned secular pursuits.
But, before concluding, I cannot refrain from referring to one great
event in the history of American science during the past year, as it
will doubtless mark an epoch in the development of science in this
country. I refer to the noble gift of a noble foreigner to encourage
�746
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
the pool* but worthy student of pure science in this country. It is
needless for me to insist on the estimation in which Prof. John Tyndall
is held among us. We know him to be a man whose heart is as large
as his head, both contributing to the cause of science. We regard
him as one of the ablest physicists of the time, and one of the most
level-headed philosophers that England has ever produced—a man
whose intellect is as symmetrical as the circle, with its every point
equidistant from the centre. We have been the recipient of former
endowments from that land which, we thank God, was our mother
country, for from it we have drawn our language, our liberty, our
laws, our literature, our science, and our energy, and without whose
wealth our material development would not be what it is at the pres
ent day. Count Rumford, the founder of the Royal Society of Lon
don, in earlier years endowed a scientific chair in one of our larger
universities, and Smithson transferred his fortune to our shores to
promote the diffusion of science. Now, while these are noble gifts,
yet Count Rumford was giving to his own countrymen—for he was
an American—and they were posthumous gifts from men of large for
tune. But the one I now refer to was from a man who ranks not with
the wealthy, and he laid his offering upon the altar of science in this
country with his own hands; and it has been both consecrated and
blest by noble words from his own lips; all of which makes the gift a
rich treasure to American science; and I think we can assure him that,
as the same Anglo-Saxon blood flows in our veins as does in his (tem
pered, ’tis true, with the Celtic, Teutonic, Latin, etc.), he may expect
much from the American student in pure science as the offspring of his
gift and his example.
THE GLACIERS AND THEIR INVESTIGATORS.
By Prof. JOHN TYNDALL.
OON after my return from America, I learned with great concern
that a little book of mine, published prior to my departure, had
given grave offence to some of the friends and relatives of the late
Principal Forbes; and I was specially grieved when informed that the
chastisement considered due to this offence was to be administered by
gentlemen between whom and myself I had hoped mutual respect and
amity would forever reign. We had, it is true, met in conflict on an
other field; but hostilities had honorably ceased, old wounds had, to
all appearance, been healed, and I had no misgiving as to the per
manence of the peace established between us.
The genesis of the book referred to is this: At Christmas, 1871, it
fell to my lot to give the brief course of “ Juvenile Lectures ” to which
S
�THE GLACIERS AND THEIR INVESTIGATORS.
Faraday for many years before his death lent such an inexpressible
charm. The subject of glaciers, which I had never previously treated
in a course of lectures, might, it was thought, be rendered pleasant
and profitable to a youthful audience. The sight of young people
wandering over the glaciers of the Alps with closed eyes, desiring
knowledge, but not always finding it, had been a familiar one to me,
and I thought it no unworthy task to respond to this desire, and to
give such of my young hearers as might visit the Alps an intelligent
interest in glacier phenomena.
The course was, therefore, resolved upon; and, to render its value
more permanent, I wrote out copious “Notes,” had them bound to
gether, and distributed among the boys and girls. Knowing the
damage which elementary books, wearily and confusedly written, had
done to my own young mind, I tried, to the best of my ability, to
confer upon these “ Notes ” clearness, thoroughness, and life. It was
my particular desire that the imaginary pupil chosen for my com
panion in the Alps, and for whom, odd as it may sound, I entertained
a real affection, should rise from the study of the “ Notes ” with no
other feeling than one of attachment and respect for those who had
worked upon the glaciers. I therefore avoided all allusion to those
sore personal dissensions which, to the detriment of science and of
men, had begun fifteen years prior to my connection with the glaciers,
and which have been unhappily continued to the present time.
Prof. Youmans, of New York, was then in London, organizing the
“ International Scientific Series,” with which his name and energy are
identified. To prove my sympathy for his work, I had given him per
mission to use my name as one of his probable contributors, the date
of my contribution being understood to belong to the distant, and in
deed indefinite, future. He, however, read the “ Notes,” liked them,
urged me to expand them a little, and to permit him to publish them
as the first volume of his series. His request was aided by that of an
other friend, and I acceded to it—hence the little book, entitled the
“Forms of Water,” which the friends and relatives of Principal
Forbes have read with so much discontent.
That modest volume has, we are informed, caused an uncontem
plated addition to be made to the Life of Principal Forbes, lately
published under the triple auspices of Principal Shairp, the successor
of Principal Forbes in the College of St. Andrew’s, Mr. AdamsReilly, and Prof. Tait. “ It had been our hope,” says Principal Shairp,
in his preface, “ that we might have been allowed to tell our story
without reverting to controversies which, we had thought, had been
long since extinguished. But, after most of these sheets were in press,
a book appeared, in which many of the old charges against Principal
Forbes in the matter of the glaciers were, if not openly repeated, not
obscurely indicated. Neither the interests of truth, nor justice to the
dead, could suffer such remarks to pass unchallenged. How it has
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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
been thought best for the present to meet them, I must leave my friend
and fellow-laborer, Prof. Tait, to tell.”
The book here referred to is the unpretending volume whose blame
less advent I have just described.
I have not the honor of knowing Principal Shairp personally, but
he will, I trust, permit me to assure him of two things : Firstly, that,
in writing my book, I had no notion of rekindling an extinct fire, or
of treating with any thing but tenderness the memory of his friend.
Secondly, that, had such been my intention, the negative attribute,
“ not obscure,” is hardly the one which he would have chosen to de
scribe the words that I should have employed. But the fact is, the fire
was not extinct : the anger of former combats, which I thought spent,
was still potential, and my little book was but the finger which pulled
the trigger of an already-loaded gun.
Let the book speak for itself. I reproduce here in extenso the ref
erences to Principal Forbes, which have been translated into “ charges ”
against him by Principal Shairp. Having, in section 20, mentioned
the early measurements of glaciers made by Hugi and Agassiz, I con
tinue thus :
“ We now approach an epoch in the scientific history of glaciers. Had the
first observers been practically acquainted with the instruments of precision
used in surveying, accurate measurements of the motion of glaciers would
probably have been earlier executed. We are now on the point of seeing such
instruments introduced almost simultaneously by Al. Agassiz on the glacier of
the Unteraar, and by Prof. Forbes on the Aler de Glace. Attempts had been
made by Af. Escher de la Linth to determine the motion of a series of wooden
stakes driven into the Aletsch Glacier, but the melting was so rapid that the
stakes soon fell. To remedy this, Af. Agassiz, in 1841, undertook the great
labor of carrying boring-tools to his ‘hotel,’ and piercing the Unteraar Glacier
at six different places to a depth of ten feet, in a straight line across the glacier.
Into the holes six piles were so firmly driven that they remained in the glacier
for a year, and, in 1842, the displacements of all six were determined. They
were found to be 160 feet, 225 feet, 269 feet, 245 feet, 210 feet, and 125 feet, re
spectively.
“ A great step is here gained. You notice that the middle numbers are the
largest. They correspond to the central portion of the glacier. Hence, these
measurements conclusively establish, not only the fact of glacier motion, but
that the centre of the glacier, like that of a river, moves more rapidly than the
sides.
“ With the aid of trained engineers, AT. Agassiz followed up these measure
ments in subsequent years. His researches are recorded in a work entitled
‘ Système Glaciaire,’ which is accompanied by a very noble Atlas of the Glacier
of the Unteraar, published in 1847.
“ These determinations were made by means of a theodolite, of which I will
give you some notion immediately. The same instrument was employed the
same year by the late Principal Forbes upon the Afer de Glace. He established
independently the greater central motion. He showed, moreover, that it is not
necessary to wait a year, or even a week, to determine the motion of a glacier ;
with a correctly-adjusted theodolite he was able to determine the motion of va
rious points of the Afer de Glace from day to day. He affirmed, and with truth,
that the motion of the glacier might be determined from hour to hour. We
shall prove this farther on. Prof. Forbes also triangulated the Afer de Glace,
and laid down an excellent map of it. His first observations and his survey
are recorded in a celebrated book published in 1843, and entitled ‘ Travels in
the Alps.’
�THE GLACIERS AND THEIR INVESTIGATORS.
“ These observations were also followed up in subsequent years, the results
being recorded in a series of detached letters and essays of great interest. These
were subsequently collected in a volume entitled ‘ Occasional Papers on the
Theory of Glaciers,’ published in 1859. The labors of Agassiz and Forbes are
the two chief sources of our knowledge of glacier phenomena.”
It would be difficult for an unbiassed person to find in these words
any semblance of a “ charge ” against Principal Forbes. His friends
and relatives may be dissatisfied to see the name of M. Agassiz placed
first in relation to the question of the quicker central flow of glaciers ;
but in giving it this position I was guided by the printed data which
are open to any writer upon this subject.
I have checked this brief historic statement by consulting again
the proper authorities, and this is the result: In 1841 Principal Forbes
became the guest of M. Agassiz on the glacier of the Aar; and in a
very able article, published some time subsequently in the Edinburgh
Review, he speaks of “ the noble ardor, the generous friendship, the
unvarying good temper, the true hospitality ” of his host. In order
to explain the subsequent action of Principal Forbes, it is necessary to
say that the kindly feeling implied in the foregoing words did not
continue long to subsist between him and M. Agassiz. I am dealing,
however, for the moment with scientific facts, not with personal dif
ferences ; and, as a matter of indisputable fact, M. Agassiz did, in
1841, incur the labor of boring six holes in a straight line across the
glacier of the Aar, of fixing in these holes a series of piles, and of
measuring, in 1842, the distance through which the motion of the
glacier had carried them. This measurement was made on July 20th ;
some results of it were communicated to the Academy of Science in
Paris on August 1st, and they stand in the “ Comptes Rendus ” of the
Academy as an unquestionable record, from which date can be taken.
But the friends quarrelled. Who was to blame I will not venture
here to intimate; but the assumption that M. Agassiz was wholly in
the wrong would, I am bound to say, be required to justify the sub
sequent conduct of Principal Forbes. He was, I gather from the Life,
acquainted with the use of surveying instruments; and knowing
roughly the annual rate of glacier-motion, he would also know that
through the precision attainable with a theodolite, a single day’s—
probably a single hour’s motion—especially in summer, must be dis
cernible. With such knowledge in his possession, as early as June,
1842, and without deeming it necessary to give his host of the Aar
any notice of his intention, Principal Forbes repaired to the Mer de
Glace, made in the first instance a few rapid measurements at the
Montanvert, and in a letter dated from Courmayeur, on July 4th, com
municated them to the editor of the Edinburgh New Philosophical
Journal.
He did not at that time give any numbers expressing the ratio of
the side to the central motion of the glacier, but contented himself
with announcing the result in these terms: “ The central portion of
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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
the Mer de Glace moves past the edges in a very considerable pro
portion, quite contrary to the opinion generally entertained.” This
communication, as I have said, bears the date of July 4th; but it was
first published in the October number of the journal to which it was
addressed. My reason, therefore, for mentioning Agassiz first in the
“Forms of Water” is, that, apart from all personal complications,
his experiment was begun ten months prior to that of his rival, and
that he had also two months’ priority of publication.
Neither in his “ Travels in the Alps,” nor in his “ Occasional Pa
pers,” does Principal Forbes, to my knowledge, make any reference
to this communication of Agassiz. I am far from charging him with
conscious wrong, or doubting that he justified this reticence to his
own mind. But my duty at present lies with objective facts, and not
with subjective judgments. And the fact is that, for eighteen years
subsequent to this campaign of 1842, Agassiz, as far as the glaciers
are concerned, was practically extinguished in England. The labors
of the following years failed to gain for him any recognition. His
early mistake regarding the quicker motion of the sides of a glacier,
and other weaknesses, were duly kept in view; but his positive meas
urements, and his Atlas, which prove the observations upon the glacier
of the Aar to be far more complete than those made upon any other
glacier, were never permitted to yield the slightest credit to their au
thor. I am no partisan of Agassiz, but I desire to be just.
Here, then, my case ends as regards the first reference to Principal
Forbes, in section 20 of the “Forms of Water.”
In section 48 I describe the dirt-bands of the Mer de Glace, and
ascribe the discovery of them to Principal Forbes. There can be no
thought of a “ charge ” here.
The next reference that has any bearing upon this discussion oc
curs in sections 59 and 60 of the “ Forms of Water.” I quote it fully:
By none of these writers is the property of viscosity or plasticity ascribed
to glacier-ice; the appearances of many glaciers are, however, so suggestive of
this idea that we may be sure it would have found more frequent expression
were it not in such apparent contradiction with our every-day experience of ice.
“ Still the idea found its advocates. In a little book, published in 1773, and
entitled ‘Picturesque Journey to the Glaciers of Savoy,’Bordier, of Geneva,
wrote thus: ‘ It is now time to look at all these objects with the eyes of reason;
to study, in the first place, the position and the progression of glaciers, and to
seek the solution of their principal phenomena. At the first aspect of the ice
mountains an observation presents itself, which appears sufficient to explain all.
It is that the entire mass of ice is connected together, and presses from above
downward after the manner of fluids. Let us, then, regard the ice, not as a
mass entirely rigid and immobile, but as a heap of coagulated matter, or as
softened wax, flexible and ductile to a certain point.’ Here probably for the
hrst^time the quality of plasticity is ascribed to the ice of glaciers.
To us, familiar with the aspect of the glaciers, it must seem strange that
this idea once expressed did not at once receive recognition and development,
those early days explorers were few, and the ‘Picturesque Journey’
Pr°t>ably but little known, so that the notion of plasticity lay dormant for more
t an half a century. But Bordier was at length succeeded by a man of far
greater scientific grasp and insight than himself. This was Rendu, a Catholic
�THE GLACIERS AND THEIR INVESTIGATORS. 751
priest and canon when he wrote, and afterward Bishop of Annecy. In 1841
Rendu laid before the Academy of Sciences of Savoy his 4 Theory of the Gla
ciers of Savoy,’ a contribution forever memorable in relation to this subject.
“Rendu seized the idea of glacier plasticity with great power and clearness,
and followed it resolutely to its consequences. It is not known that he had
ever seen the work of Bordier; probably not, as he never mentions it. Let me
quote for you some of Rendu’s expressions, which, however, fail to give an ade
quate idea of his insight and precision of thought: 4 Between the Mer de Glace
and a river there is a resemblance so complete that it is impossible to find in
the glacier a circumstance which does not exist in the river. In currents of
water the motion is not uniform, either throughout their width or throughout
their depth. The friction of the bottom and of the sides, with the action of
local hindrances, causes the motion to vary, and only toward the middle of the
surface do we obtain the full motion.’
“ This reads like a prediction of what has since been established by meas
urement. Looking at the glacier of Mont Dolent, which resembles a sheaf in
form, wide at both ends and narrow in the middle, and reflecting that the upper
wide part had become narrow, and the narrow middle part again wide, Rendu
observes: 4 There is a multitude of facts which seem to necessitate the belief
that glacier-ice enjoys a kind of ductility, which enables it to mould itself to its
locality, to thin out, to swell, and to contract, as if it were a soft paste.’
“ To fully test his conclusions, Rendu required the accurate measurement
of glacier motion. Had he added to his other endowments the practical skill
of a land-surveyor, he would now be regarded as the prince of glacialists. As
it was, he was obliged to be content with imperfect measurements. In one of
his excursions he examined the guides regarding the successive positions of a
vast rock which he found upon the ice close to the side of the glacier. The
mean of five years gave him a motion for this block of forty feet a year.
44 Another block, the transport of which he subsequently measured more
accurately, gave him a velocity of 400 feet a year. Note his explanation of this
discrepancy: 4 The enormous difference of these two observations arises from
the fact that one block stood near the centre of the glacier, which moves most
rapidly, while the other stood near the side, where the ice is held back by fric
tion.’ So clear and definite were Rendu’s ideas of the plastic motion of gla
ciers, that, had the question of curvature occurred to him, I entertain no doubt
that he would have enunciated beforehand the shifting of the point of maximum
motion from side to side across the axis of the glacier (§ 25).
44 It is right that you should know that scientific men do not always agree
in their estimates of the comparative value of facts and ideas ; and it is espe
cially right that you should know that your present tutor attaches a very high
value to ideas when they spring from the profound and persistent pondering of
superior minds, and are not, as is too often the case, thrown out without the
warrant of either deep thought or natural capacity. It is because I believe
Rendu’s labors fulfil this condition that I ascribe to them so high a value. But,
when you become older and better informed, you may differ from me; and I
write these words lest you should too readily accept my opinion of Rendu.
Judge me, if you care to do so, when your knowledge is matured. I certainly
shall not fear your verdict.
44 But, much as I prize the prompting idea, and thoroughly as I believe that
often in it the force of genius mainly lies, it would, in my opinion, be an error
of omission of the gravest kind, and which, if habitual, would insure the ulti
mate decay of natural knowledge, to neglect verifying our ideas, and giving them
outward reality and substance when the means of doing so are at hand. In
science, thought, as far as possible, ought to be wedded to fact. This was at
tempted by Rendu, and in great part accomplished by Agassiz and Forbes.
“ Here, indeed, the merits of the distinguished glacialist last named rise con
spicuously to view. From the able and earnest advocacy of Prof. Forbes, the
public knowledge of this doctrine of glacial plasticity is almost wholly derived.
He gave the doctrine a more distinctive form ; he first applied the term viscous
to glacier-ice, and sought to found upon precise measurements a ‘viscous
theory ’ of glacier-motion.
44 I am here obliged to state facts in their historic sequence. Prof. Forbes,
�752
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
when he began his investigations, was acquainted with the labors of Rendu. In
his earliest works upon the Alps he refers to those labors in terms of flattering
recognition. But, though, as a matter of fact, Rendu’s ideas were there to
prompt him, it would be too much to say that he needed their inspiration.
Had Rendu not preceded him, he might none the less have grasped the idea of
viscosity, executing his measurements, and applying his knowledge to maintain
it. Be that as it may, the appearance of Prof. Forbes on the Unteraar Glacier
in 1841, and on the Her de Glace in 1842, and his labors then and subse
quently, have given him a name not to be forgotten in the scientific history of
glaciers.”
Here, again, I have to declare that, in writing thus, I had no no
tion of “raking up” an old controversy. My object was to render
my account historically continuous, and there is not a single word to
intimate that I took exception to Principal Forbes’s treatment of
Rendu. Nay, while placing the bishop in the position he merited, I
went out of my way to point out that, in all probability, Principal
Forbes required no such antecedent. So desirous was I that no un
kind or disparaging word should escape me regarding Principal Forbes,
that, had a reasonable objection to the phraseology here used been
communicated to me by his friends, I should have altered the whole
edition of the work sooner than allow the objectionable matter to ap
pear in it............
My final reference to Principal Forbes was in § 67 of the “ Forms
of Water,” where the veined structure of glacier-ice is dealt with. Its
description by Guyot, who first observed it, is so brief and appropriate
that I quoted his account of it. But this was certainly not with a
view of damaging the originality of Principal Forbes. In paragraph
474 of my book the observation of the structure upon the glacier of
the Aar is thus spoken of: “The blue veins were observed indepen
dently three years after M. Guyot had first described them. I say in
dependently, because M. Guyot’s description, though written in 1838,
remained unprinted, and was unknown in 1841 to the observers on the
Aar. These were M. Agassiz and Prof. Forbes. To the question of
structure, Prof. Forbes subsequently devoted much attention, and it
was mainly his observations and reasonings that gave it the important
position now assigned to it in glacier phenomena.”
This is the account of Guyot’s observation given by Principal
Forbes himself. But it may be objected that I am not correct in class
ing him and Agassiz thus together, and that to Principal Forbes alone
belongs the credit of observing the veined structure upon the Aar
Glacier. This may be true, but would an impartial writer be justified
in ignoring the indignant protests of M. Agassiz and his companions ?
With regard to the development of the subject, I felt perfectly sure
of the merits of Principal Forbes, and did not hesitate to give him
the benefit of my conviction.
Such, then, are the grounds of Principal Shairp’s complaint quoted
at the outset—such the “charges ” that I have made “against Prin
cipal Forbes,” and which the “ interests of truth” and “justice to the
�THE GLACIERS AND THEIR INVESTIGATORS. 753
dead” could not “suffer to pass unchallenged. ” There is, I submit,
no color of reason in such a complaint, and it would never, I am per
suaded, have been made had not Principal Shairp and his colleagues
found themselves in possession of a document which, though pub
lished a dozen years ago by Principal Forbes, was never answered by
me, and which, in the belief that I am unable to answer it, is now re
produced for my confutation.
The document here referred to appeared soon after the publication
of the “ Glaciers of the Alps ” in 1860. It is entitled “ Reply to Pro
fessor Tyndall’s Remarks in his Work on the ‘ Glaciers of the Alps,
relating to Rendu’s ‘ Theorie des Glaciers.’ ” It was obviously written
under feelings of great irritation, and, longing for peace, the only
public notice I took of it at the time was to say that “ I have ab
stained from answering my distinguished censor, not from inability to
do so, but because I thought, and think, that within the limits of the
case it is better to submit to misconception than to make science the
arena of personal controversy.” My critics, however, do not seem to
understand that, for the sake of higher occupations, statements may
be allowed to pass unchallenged which, were their refutation worth
the necessary time, might be blown in shreds to the winds. Of this
precise character, I apprehend, are the accusations contained in the
republished essay of Principal Forbes, which his friends, professing to
know what he would have done were he alive, now challenge me to
meet. I accept the challenge, and throw upon them the responsibility
of my answer, . . ?
Having thus disposed of the two really serious allegations in the
reply, I am unwilling to follow it through its minor details, or to spend
time in refuting the various intimations of littleness on my part con
tained in it. The whole reply betrays a state of mental exacerbation
which I willingly left to the softening influence of time, and to which,
unless forced to it, I shall not recur.
The biographer who has revived this subject speaks of “ the numer
ous controversies into which he” (Principal Forbes) “was dragged.”
I hardly think the passive verb the appropriate one here. The fol
lowing momentary glimpse of Principal Forbes’s character points to a
truer theory of his controversies than that which would refer them to
a “ drag ” external to himself :
“ The hasty glance,” says this biographer, “ which I have been able
to bestow upon his less scientific letters has shown me that Forbes at
tached great importance to mere honorary distinctions, as well as the
opinion of others regarding the value of his discoveries. It has opened
up a view of a, to me, totally unexpected feature of his character.”
This is honest, but that the revelation should be “unexpected” is to
me surprising. The “ love of approbation ” here glanced at was in
Principal Forbes so strong that he could not bear the least criticism
1 We omit this portion of the discussion, for lack of space.—Editor.
vol. hi.—4S
�754
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
of his work without resenting it as personal. I well remember the
late excellent William Hopkins describing to me his astonishment
when, at the meeting of the British Association at York, a purely sci
entific remark of his on Forbes’s glacier theory was turned, with sud
den acerbity, into a personal matter. It is of a discussion arising out
of this remark that Principal Forbes writes thus : “We had a post
poned discussion on glaciers on Saturday morning, when Hopkins and
I did battle, and I am sorry to say I felt it exceedingly; it discomposed
my nerves and made me very uncomfortable indeed, until I was soothed
by the minster-service yesterday.” 1
But no amount of “ minster-service ” could cope with so strong a
natural bias, and many a bitter drop fell from the pen of Principal
Forbes into the lives of those whom he opposed subsequent to this
service at York. On hearing of the paper presented by Mr. Huxley
and myself to the Royal Society, he at once jumped to the conclusion
that the glaciers were to be made a “ regular party question.” “ All
I can do,” he says, “ is to sit still till the indictment is made out; and
I cordially wish my enemy to write a book and print it speedily, as
any thing is better than innuendo and suspense.”9 What he meant
by “ indictment ” I do not know; and, with regard to “ innuendo,”
neither of the writers of the paper would be likely to resort to it in
preference to plain speaking. The words of a witty philosopher at
the time here referred to are significant: “ Tyndall,” he said, “ is be
ginning with ice, but he will end in hot water.” He knew the circum
stances, and was able to predict the course of events with the cer
tainty of physical prevision.
The quality referred to by his biographer, and the tendency arising
from it to look at things in a personal light, caused his intellect to run
rapidly into hypotheses of moral action which had no counterpart in
real life. I read with simple amazement his explanation to his friend
Mr. Wills of the postponement of the publication of the “ Glaciers of
the Alps.” Some of his supporters in the Council of the Royal So
ciety had proposed him for the Copley Medal, but without success.
Had the rules of good taste been observed, he would have known
nothing of these discussions ; and, knowing them, he ought to have
ignored them. But he writes to his friend : “ I believe the effect of
the struggle, though unsuccessful in its immediate object, will be to
render Tyndall and Huxley and their friends more cautious in their
further proceedings. For instance, Tyndall’s book, again withdrawn
from Murray’s ‘ immediate ’ list, will probably be infinitely more care
fully worded relative to Rendu than he first intended.” 8
I should be exceedingly sorry to apply to Principal Forbes the
noun-substantive which Byron, in “ Childe Harold,” applied to Rous
seau, but the adjective “ self-torturing” is, I fear, only too applicable.
His quick imagination suggested chimerical causes for events, but
1 Life, p. 165.
9 Ibid., p. 369.
8 Ibid., p. 387.
�THE GLACIERS AND THEIR INVESTIGATORS. 755
never any thing more chimerical than that here assigned for the post
ponement of my book and its probable improvement. The “ struggle ”
in the council had no influence upon me, for this good reason, if for
no other, that I knew absolutely nothing of the character of the strug
gle. In Naiure, for May 22, 1873, Prof. Huxley has effectually dis
posed of this hypothesis ;1 and those who care to look at the opening
sentences of a paper of mine in Mr. Francis Galton’s “ Vacation Tour
ists for 1860,” will find there indicated another reason for the delay.
I may add, that the only part I ever took in relation to Principal
Forbes and a medal was to go on one occasion to the Royal Society
with the express intention of recommending that he should have one.
The features of character partly revealed by his biographer also
explain that tendency on the part of Principal Forbes to bring his
own labors into relief, to the manifest danger of toning down the
labors of others. This is illustrated by the foot-note appended to page
419. It is also illustrated by his references to Rendu, which, frequent
and flattering as they are, left no abiding impression upon the reader’s
mind. By some qualifying phrase the quotation in each case is de
prived of weight; while practical extinction for eighteen years was,
as already intimated, the fate of the “ generous ” and “ hospitable ”
Agassiz.
Toward the close of the “ Life ” his biographer, while admitting
that “ to say that Forbes thoroughly explained the behavior of gla
ciers would be an exaggeration,” claims for him that he must “ ever
stand forward in the history of the question as one of its most effective
and scientific promoters.” This meed of praise I should be the last
to deny him, for I believe it to be perfectly just. To secure it, how
ever, no bitterness of controversy, no depreciation of the services of
others, was necessary. One point here needs a moment’s clearing up.
The word.“ theory,” as regards glaciers, slides incessantly, and with
out warning, from one into the other of two different senses. It means
sometimes the purely physical theory of their formation, structure, and
motion, with which the name of Principal Forbes is so largely iden
tified. But it has a wider sense where it embraces the geological
action of glaciers on the surface of the globe. For a long time “ gla
cier theory ” had reference mainly to the geological phenomena ; it was
in this sense that the words were employed by Principal Forbes in his
article in the Edinburgh Review, published in 1842. It is in this
sense that they are now habitually applied by M. Agassiz, and in rela
tion to the theory thus defined it is no more than natural for his sup
porters to assign to M. Agassiz the highest place. I mention this to
abolish the mystification which threatens to surround a question which
this simple statement will render clear.
I trust I may be permitted to end here. Strong reasons may cause
1 The words “ drift of ray statement,” employed in Prof. Huxley’6 letter, ought to
be draft of my statement.
�756
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
me to revert to this question, but they must be very strong. I would
only warn my readers against the assumption that, if I do not reply
to further attack, I am unable to reply to it. The present rejoinder
furnishes sufficient proof of the doubtfulness of such a conclusion.
There is one darkly-expressed passage in the “Life of Principal
Forbes” which may cover something requiring notice. We are in
formed that he preserved and carefully docketed all letters written to
him, and that he retained copies of all his own. It is with regard to
this correspondence that his biographer writes thus : “ Many extracts,
and even entire letters, may be selected which are free from contro
versy, yet in general these would give but an imperfect notion of the
import of the whole. Others again cannot be published at present, be
cause the writers supply him with details of that mysterious wire
pulling which seems to be inseparable from every transaction involving
honors (scientific, in common with all others, it is humiliating to con
fess). The value of this unique series is, however, so great, and its
preservation so complete, that it is to be hoped it may be safely de
posited (under seal) in the care of some scientific society or institution,
to be opened only when all the actors have passed from the scene.”
These undignified allusions to “ wire-pulling ” are perfectly dark
to me; but if the letter addressed to Mr. Wills may be taken as a
specimen of the entire “series,” here referred to, then I agree with the
biographer in pronouncing it “ unique.” Would it not, however, be a
manlier course, and a fairer one to those who, writing without arrièrepensée, retain no copies of what they write, to let them know, while
they are here to take care of themselves, how their reputations are
affected by these letters of Principal Forbes ? For my own personal
part I am prepared to challenge the production of this correspondence
now.— Contemporary Review.
THE MOON.
JJR satellite holds a somewhat anomalous position in the liter.
ature of astronomy. The most beautiful object in the heavens,
the orb which telescopists study under the most favorable conditions,
and the planet—for a planet she is—which has afforded the most im
portant information respecting the economy of the universe, she never
theless has not received that attention from descriptive writers which
she really merits. The cause is, perhaps, not far to seek. The beauty
of the moon can scarcely be described in words, and cannot be pict1 “ The Moon : her Motions, Aspect, Scenery, and Physical Condition.” By Richard
A. Pïoctor, B. A., Cambridge (England), Honorary Secretary of the Royal Astronomical
Society of London ; author of the “ Sun,” “ Saturn,” “ Other Worlds,” etc. New York :
D. Appleton & Co. Price, $4.50.
�THE HO ON.
757
ured by the most skilful artist; the information conveyed by the
telescope is too definite to permit of speculation as with the other
planets, yet not definite enough to solve the questions about which
the students of astronomical works take most interest; and the infor
mation which astronomers have obtained from the moon’s motions can
only be appreciated when those motions are thoroughly analyzed, and
it has not been found easy to simplify this analysis, that the general
reader might fairly be expected to take interest in the matter.
The work before us is intended to remove this long-recognized
want in the literature of astronomy. The time has come when this is
practicable. The splendid photographs of Rutherford, of New York,
and De La Rue, in England, supply the means of exhibiting truthfully
the real nature of our satellite’s surface. Mr. Proctor has been for
tunate in obtaining from Mr. Rutherford permission to use three of his
most effective photographs of the moon to illustrate the present work.
Recent researches, ¿gain, into the processes which are going on withiu
the solar system (so long mistakenly supposed to be unchanging in
condition), suggest considerations respecting the past condition of
the moon, at once bringing her within the range of speculation and
theory. Telescopic observations, also more scrutinizing than those
made of yore, and applied more persistently, begin to indicate the
possibility at least of recognizing the signs of change, and perhaps of
showing that our moon is not the dead and arid waste which astron
omers have hitherto supposed her to be. The heat measurements of
Lord Rosse also throw important light on the question of her present
condition. And then, as respects those points which constitute the
main scientific interest of our satellite, her motions under the varying
influences to which she is subjected, Mr. Proctor has devoted here his
full energies and the results of a long experience, to the endeavor to
make clear, even to those who are not mathematicians, the consider
ations which, weighed and analyzed in the wonderful brain of Newton,
supplied the means of demonstrating the theory of the universe.
On this important department of his subject, Mr. Proctor makes
the following remarks in his preface : “In Chapter II. I have given a
very full account of the peculiarities of the moon’s motions ; and, not
withstanding the acknowledged difficulty of the subject, I think my
account is sufficiently clear and simple to be understood by any one,
even though not acquainted with the elements of mathematics, who
will be at the pains to read it attentively through. I have sought to
make the subject clear to a far wider range of readers than the class
for which Sir G. Airy’s treatise on ‘ Gravitation ’ was written, while
yet not omitting any essential points in the argument. In order to
combine independence of treatment with exactness and completeness,
I first wrote the chapter without consulting any other work. Then I
went through it afresh, carefully comparing each section with the cor
responding part of Sir G. Airy’s ‘Gravitation,’ and Sir J. Herschel’s
�758
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
chapters on the lunar motions in his ‘ Outlines of Astronomy.’ I was
thus able to correct any errors in my own work, while in turn I de
tected a few (mentioned in the notes) in the works referred to. I have
adopted a much more complete and exact system of illustration in
dealing with the moon’s motions than either of my predecessors in
the explanation of this subject. I attach great importance to this feat
ure of my explanation, experience having satisfied me not only that
such matters should be very freely illustrated, but that the illustra
tions should aim at correctness of detail, and (wherevei- practicable) of
scale also. Some features, as the advance of the perigee and the retreat
of the nodes, have, I believe, never before been illustrated at all.”
In Chapter III. Mr. Proctor gives, among other matters, a full
explanation of the effects due to the strange balancing motion called
the lunar librations. He says: “ I have been surprised to find how
imperfectly this interesting and important subject has been dealt with
hitherto. In fact, I have sought in vain for any discussion of the
subject with which to compare my own results. I have, however, in
various ways sufficiently tested these results.”
But probably, to the greater number of readers, the main interest
of the book will be found in the chapters relating to the condition of
the moon’s surface—the mountains, craters, hills, valleys, which diver
sify its strange varieties of brightness, color, and tone, and the changes
of appearance which are noted as the illumination varies, and as the
lunar librations change the position of different regions. It is, bythe-way, to be noted that the moon, which we regard as of silvery
whiteness, is in reality more nearly black than white, a fact which will
recall to many of our readers a remark of Prof. Tyndall’s in the first
lecture of the course recently delivered here.
“ The moon appears to us,” he said, “ as if
‘ Clothed in white samite, mystic, beautiful,’1
but, were she covered with the blackest velvet, she would still hang in
the heavens as a white orb, shining upon the world substantially as
she does now.”
Mr. Proctor discusses also the phenomena presented to lunarians,
if such there be. The extreme rarity of the lunar atmosphere ren
ders the idea of existence on the moon rather strange to our concep
tions, but, as Sir J. Herschel has said in a similar case, “ we should do
wrong to judge of the fitness or unfitness of” the condition of luna
rians “ from what we see around us, when perhaps the very combina
tions which convey to our minds only images of horror may be, in
reality, theatres of the most striking and glorious displays of benefi
cent contrivance.” Speaking of the appearances presented by lunar
landscapes, two of which we borrow from his work, Mr. Proctor remarks
1 We quote Tyndall.
Tennyson wrote :
“ Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful.”
�THE MO OX.
739
that “ we know far too little respecting the real details of lunar scenery
to form any satisfactory opinion on the subject. If a landscape-painter
were invited to draw a picture presenting his conceptions of the
scenery of a region which he had only viewed from a distance of a hun
dred miles, he would be under no greater difficulties than the astrono
mer who undertakes to draw a lunar landscape, as it would actually
appear to any one placed on the surface of the moon. We know cer
tain facts—we know that there are striking forms of irregularity, that
the shadows must be much darker as well during the lunar day as
during an earth-lit lunar light, than on our own earth in sunlight or
moonlight, and we know that, whatever features of our own land
scapes are certainly due to the action of water in river, rain, or flood,
to the action of wind and weather, or to the growth of forms of vege
tation with which we are familiar, ought assuredly not to be shown in
any lunar landscape. But a multitude of details absolutely necessary
for the due presentation of lunar scenery are absolutely unknown to
us. Nor is it so easy as many imagine to draw a landscape which
shall be correct even as respects the circumstances known to us. For
instance, though I have seen many pictures called lunar landscapes, I
have never seen one in which there have not been features manifestly
due to weathering and to the action of running water. The shadows,
again, are never shown as they would be actually seen if regions of the
indicated configuration were illuminated by a sun, but not by a sky
of light. Again, aerial perspective is never totally abandoned, as it
ought to be in any delineation of lunar scenery. I do not profess to
have done better myself in the accompanying lunar landscapes. I
have, in fact, cared rather to indicate the celestial than the lunarian
features shown in these drawings. Still, I have selected a class of
lunar objects which may be regarded as, on the whole, more charac
teristic than the mountain-scenery usually exhibited. And, by pictu
ring the greater part of the landscape as at a considerable distance, I
have been freer to reproduce what the telescope actually reveals. In
looking at one of these views, the observer must suppose himself sta
tioned at the summit of some very lofty peak, and that the view shows
only a very small portion of what would really be seen under such cir
cumstances in any particular direction. The portion of the sky shown
in either picture extends only a few degrees from the horizon, as is
manifest from the dimensions of the earth’s disk; and thus it is shown
that only a few degrees of the horizon are included in the landscape.
Our author then pictures the aspect of the lunar heavens by night
and by day. We have space but for a few passages from this descrip
tion : • “ To an observer stationed upon a summit of the lunar Apen
nines on the evening of November 1, 1872, a scene was presented un
like any known to the inhabitants of earth. It was near the middle
of the long lunar night. On a sky of inky blackness stars innu
merable were spread, among which the orbs forming our constella-
�760
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
tions could be recognized by their superior lustre, but yet were almost
lost amid myriads of stars unseen by the inhabitants of earth.
Nearly overhead shone the Pleiades, closely girt round by hundreds
of lesser lights. From them toward Aldebaran and the clustering
Hyades, and onward to the belted Orion, streams and convolutions of
stars, interwoven as in fantastic garlands, marked the presence of that
mysterious branch-like extension of the Milky-Way which the ob
server on earth can, with unaided vision, trace no farther than the
winged foot of Perseus. High overhead, and toward the north, the
Milky-Way shone resplendent, like a vast inclined arch, full ‘ thick in
laid with patines of bright gold.’ Instead of that faint, cloud-like
zone known to terrestrial astronomers, the galaxy presented itself as
an infinitely complicated star-region—
‘ With isles of light and silvery streams,
And gloomy griefs of mystic shade.’
“ On all sides, this mighty star-belt spread its outlying bands of
stars, far away on the one hand toward Lyra and Bobtes, where on
earth we see no traces of milky lustre, and on the other toward the
Twins and the clustering glories of Cancer—the ‘ dark constellation ’
of the ancients, but full of telescopic splendors. Most marvellous,
too, appeared the great dark gap which lies between the Milky-Way
and Taurus ; here, in the very heart of the richest region of the heavens—with Orion and the Hyades and Pleiades blazing on one side, and
on the other the splendid stream laving the feet of the Twins—there
lay a deep, black gulf which seemed like an opening through our star
system into starless depths beyond.
Yet, though the sky was thus aglow with starlight, though stars
far fainter than the least we see on the clearest and darkest night were
shining in countless myriads, an orb was above the horizon whose
light would pale the lustre of our brightest stars. This orb occupied
a space on the heavens more than twelve times larger than is occupied
by the full moon as we see her. Its light, unlike the moon’s, was
tinted with beautiful and well-marked colors. . . .
“ The globe which thus adorned the lunar sky, and illuminated the
lunar lands with a light far exceeding that of the full moon, was our
earth. The scene was not unlike that shown to Satan when Uriel—
* One of the seven
Who in God’s presence, nearest to the throne,
Stand ready at command ”—
pointing earthward from his station amid the splendor of the sun,
said to the arch-fiend:
‘ Look downward on that globe whose hither side
AX ith light from hence, though but reflected, shines:
That place is earth, the seat of man ; that light
His day, which else, as th’ other hemisphere,
Night would invade.’
�THE MOON.
761
“ In all other respects the scene presented to the spectator on the
moon was similar; but, as seen from the lunar Apennines, the glorious
orb of earth shone high in the heavens; and the sun, source of the
light then bathing her oceans and continents, lay far down below the
level of the lunar horizon. . . .
“ Infinitely more wonderful, however, and transcending in sublimity
all that the heavens display to the contemplation of the inhabitants
of earth, was the scene presented when the sun himself had risen. I
shall venture here to borrow some passages from an essay entitled ‘ A
Voyage to the Sun,’ in which a friend of mine has described the aspect
of the sun as seen from a station outside that atmosphere of ours
which veils the chief glories of the luminary of day: ‘ The sun’s
orb was more brilliantly white than when seen through the air, but
close scrutiny revealed a diminution of brilliancy toward the edge of
the disk, which, when fully recognized, presented him at once as the
globe he really is. On this globe could be distinguished the spots
and the bright streaks called faculse. This globe was surrounded with
the most amazingly complex halo of glory. Close around the bright
whiteness of the disk, and shining far more beautiful by contrast with
that whiteness than as seen against the black disk of the moon in
total eclipses, stood the colored region called the chromatosphere, not
red, as it appears during eclipses, but gleaming with a mixed lustre
of pink and green, through which, from time to time, passed the most
startlingly brilliant coruscations of orange and golden yellow light.
Above this delicate circle of color towered tall prominences and mul
titudes of smaller ones. These, like the chromatosphere, were not red,
but beautifully variegated. . . .’
“Much more might be said on this inviting subject, only that the
requirements of space forbid, obliging me to remember that the
moon and not the sun is the subject of this treatise. The reader,
therefore, must picture to himself the advance of the sun with his
splendid and complicated surroundings toward the earth, suspended
almost unchangingly in the heavens, but assuming gradually the cres
cent form as the sun drew slowly near, lie must imagine also how,
in the mean time, the star-sphere was slowly moving westward, the
constellations of the ecliptic in orderly succession passing behind the
earth at a rate slightly exceeding that of the 6un’s approach, so that
he, like the earth, only more slowly, was moving eastward, so far as
the star-sphere was concerned, even while the moon’s slow diurnal ro
tation was carrying him westward toward the earth.”
In the last chapter the physical condition of the moon’s surface is
treated, and the processes by which she probably reached her present
condition are discussed at considerable length.
�THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY,
EDITOR’S TABLE.
ing many excellent suggestions, was not
conformed to the better type of such
HE twenty-second meeting of the productions. It is the custom of the
American Association for the Ad eminent scientific men who are honored
vancement of Science, which com with the office but once in their lives
menced at Portland, Me., August 20th, to devote the occasion, either to a gen
was fairly attended by the members, eral review of recent scientific work,
and presented very good results in the or to some special subject with which
way of scientific work. In estimating they are most familiar, and upon which
its contributions, we must not over they can speak with the force of au
look the fact that, while the numbers thority. Dr. Smith has been favorably
of those in this country who are at known in the world of science as a
liberty to pursue original investigations chemist who has made valuable con
untrammelled, is not large, on the other tributions in its inorganic department.
hand we have two national associations, The great activity in chemical inquiries
through which the moderate amount of at the present time, and the impor
original research that takes place is pub tant transition through which chemical
lished to the world. While the Ameri theory is now passing, would certainly
can Association was the only organiza have afforded the president a most per
tion of national scope for the publication tinent and instructive theme, but he
of new scientific results, its papers were preferred to employ the occasion in
creditable both in number and quality, considering certain aspects of science
and it compared favorably with its pro that are now prominent in public atten
totype, the British Association for the tion, and upon which the scientific
Advancement of Science. But, when, world is in much disagreement. The
a few years ago, a considerable number leading feature of the address was an
of its ablest members joined in the or attack on the Darwinians, and this
ganization of the National Academy portion of it we publish; and, as the
of Sciences, having substantially the question is thus reopened officially, it
same object in view as the American becomes a proper subject of comment.
The predecessor of President Smith,
Association, but exclusive in its mem
bership, and under government patron Dr. Asa Gray, of Harvard College, had
age, the necessary effect was greatly to followed the better usage of presid
weaken the older organization. The ing officers in his address at Dubuque
National Academy meets twice a year, last year, and discussed some of the
and draws closely upon the original larger problems of botany in the light
work of its associates. If, therefore, of the derivation theory. The most
the numbers in attendance upon the eminent of American botanists, an old
Association and the grade of scientific and untiring student of the subject, a
contributions might seem to indicate a man of philosophic grasp, and with a
decline in American science, the cir candor and sincerity of conviction that
cumstances here referred to will suffi commanded the highest respect, after
long and thorough study of the ques
ciently qualify the conclusion.
tion, Prof. Gray did not hesitate to
The address of the retiring presi give the weight of his authority to that
dent, J. Lawrence Smith, while contain view of the origin and diversities of
AMERICAN SCIENTIFIC ASSOCIATION—
PRESIDENT SMITH'S ADDRESS.
�EDITOR'S TADLE.
living forms of which Mr. Darwin is
now the leading representative. And
although in the field of biology large
numbers of its most eminent students,
who are of all men most competent to
decide upon it, have accepted that doc
trine as representing the truth of Na
ture more perfectly than any other, and
as of immense value in their researches
into the laws of life, yet Dr. Smith, as
our readers will see, denounces it as a
groundless hypothesis due to a riotous
imagination, and, in the language of
Agassiz, a “mere mire of assertions.”
His declarations have called forth the
applause of the press—always so can
did, and intelligent, and independent,
on such matters—who seize the occa
sion to preach new sermons on the “ va
garies of science,” and declare that they
“take sides with the angels against the
monkeys,” and are “ with the Creator
against Darwin.”
The course of the president was
not commended even by his own
party. Dr. Newberry, an eminent
student of biology and geology, is re
ported as having spoken in the follow
ing decided way : “ Prof. Newberry,
after a handsome allusion to the re
tiring president, Prof. J. Lawrence
Smith, protested against the opposition
to the development theory as ex
pounded in that gentleman's address.
Prof. Newberry said he was not him
self a Darwinian, but he recognized
the value of the evolution theory in
science. You cannot measure its value
as you can the work of an astronomer,
measured by definite ratios of space
and time; but he considered the hy
pothesis one of the most important con
tributions ever made to a knowledge
of Nature. Most men and women are
partisans, and some are willing to sup
pose that the hypothesis is sufficient to
account for all the phenomena of the
animal kingdom, while, on the other
hand, there are those who see in it
nothing but failure and deficiency. Let
us assume a judicial position, and al
763
low the tests of time and truth to settle
the questions involved. Go, however,
in whatever direction the facts may lead,
and throw prejudice to the winds. Rec
ollect that all truth is consistent with
itself.”
Dr. Smith can hardly be said to
have argued the question of Darwinism.
He gave us his own opinion of it, and
quoted, to sustain it, two distinguished
authorities in natural history. But he
gave the influence of his name and po
sition to the charge that it transcends
the legitimate limits of inductive in
quiry, and is only a wild and absurd
speculation. While the technical and
difficult questions of natural history by
which the truth or falsity of the doc
trine must be determined are beyond
the reach of unscientific readers, and
belong to the biologists to decide, the
question here raised as to whether
the investigation, as conducted, is le
gitimately scientific or not, is one of
which all intelligent persons ought to
be capable of forming a judgment.
We have repeatedly considered thi3
point in the pages of The Populae Sci
ence Monthly, and have endeavored
to show that the present attitude of
the doctrine of evolution is precisely
the attitude which all the great es
tablished theories and laws of science
had to take at their first promulgation.
It is familiar to all who know any thing
of the progress of science, that astrono
my and geology, in their early stages,
passed through precisely the same or
deal that biology is passing through
now; their leading doctrines were rep
robated as false science, and the wild
dreams of distempered imaginations.
Let us now take another case, in the
department of pure physics, and see
how scientific history repeats itself:
The undulatory theory of light is
now a firmly established principle in
physics. Dr. Smith says that “the
failure to explain one single well-ob
served fact is sufficient to cast doubt
upon, or subvert, any pure hypothesis,”
�764
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
and, he adds, in reference to the undulatory theory, that, “ op to the present
time, it serves in all cases.” In order
that this theory, now so perfect, should
be adopted, it had, of course, to be first
propounded. The conception of an
ethereal medium to explain the phe
nomena of light was suggested by Huyghens and Euler, but they did not ex
perimentally demonstrate it, and their
authority was overborne by that of
Newton,who maintained the emission or
corpuscular theory. The true founder
of the undulatory hypothesis of light
was Dr. Thomas Young, Professor of
Natural Philosophy in the Royal Insti
tution of Great Britain, and whom
Prof. Tyndall regards as the greatest
physicist who has appeared since New
ton. Dr. Young is thus estimated by
the German Helmholtz: “ His was one
of the most profound minds that the
world has ever seen; but he had the
misfortune to be in advance of his age.
He excited the wonder of his contem
poraries, who, however, were unable
to follow him to the heights at which
his daring intellect was accustomed to
soar. His most important ideas lay,
therefore, buried and forgotten in the
folios of the Royal Society, until a new
generation gradually and painfully
made the same discoveries, and proved
the exactness of his assertions, and the
truth of his demonstrations.”
Now, in this case, there was no
monkey in the question, and no capital
of public prejudice that could be made
available in the discussion, to repress
obnoxious opinions. The hypothesis
was certainly innocent enough, and its
truth or falsehood was a matter of sim
ple determination by experiment. Dr.
Young made the experiments which es
tablished it—the Royal Society recog
nized the value of the experiments,
and, in 1801, assigned to their author
the distinguished honor of delivering
the Bakerian lecture, in which his ex
periments were described, and their con
clusions demonstrated. Yet, with the
Royal Society to back him, and with
his views capable of proof before all
men, Dr. Young was crushed, and that
by outside influences appealing to the
public, on the ground that his hypothe
sis was spurious science—mere wild ab
surdity of the imagination.
We ask attention to the similarity of
the present ground of attack upon Dar
win, and the ground of attack upon Dr.
Young three-quarters of a century ago.
Dr. Smith prefaces his strictures upon
Darwinism with the following declara
tion : “It is a very common attempt
nowadays for scientists to transcend the
limits of their legitimate studies, and,
in doing this, they run into speculations
apparently the most unphilosophical,
wild, and absurd; quitting the true
basis of inductive philosophy, and
building up the most curious theories
on little else than assertion.”
Henry Brougham, afterward LordChancellor of England, writing in the
second number of the Edinburgh Re
view concerning Young’s Bakerian lect
ure, said: “We have of late observed
in the physical world a most unac
countable predilection for vague hy
potheses daily gaining ground ; and we
are mortified to see that the Royal So
ciety, forgetful of those improvements
in science to which it owes its origin,
and neglecting the precepts of its most
illustrious members, is now, by the pub
lication of such papers, giving the
countenance of its highest authority to
dangerous relaxations in the principles
of physical logic. We wish to raise
our feeble voice against innovations
that can have no other effect than to
check the progress of science, and re
new all those wild phantoms of the
imagination which Bacon and Newton
put to flight from her temple. . . .
Has the Royal Society degraded its
publications into bulletins of new and
fashionable theories for the ladies of
the Royal Institution ? Prohpudor ! 1
Let the professor continue to amuse his
audience with an endless variety of
For shame!
�EDITOR'S TABLE.
such harmless trifles, but, in the name
of science, let them not find admittance
into that venerable repository which
contains the works of Newton and
Boyle. . . . The making of an hy
pothesis is not the discovery of a truth.
It is a mere sporting with the subject ;
it is a sham-fight which may amuse in
the moment of idleness and relaxation,
but will neither gain victories over pre
judice and error, nor extend the em
pire of science. A mere theory is in
truth destitute of merit of every kind,
except that of a warm and misguided
imagination.” Dr. Young’s theory
“ teaches no truth, reconciles no con
tradictions, arranges no anomalous
facts, suggests no new experiments,
and leads to no new inquiries. It has
not even the pitiful merit of affording
an agreeable play to the fancy. It is
infinitely more useless, and less ingen
ious, than the Indian theory of the
elephant and tortoise. It may be
ranked in the same class with that
stupid invention of metaphysical the
ology. ... We cannot conclude our
review of these articles without en
treating for a moment the attention
of that illustrious body which has ad
mitted of late years so many paltry
and unsubstantial papers into its trans
actions. ... We implore the coun
cil, if they will deign to cast their
eyes upon our humble page, to prevent
a degradation of the institution which
has so long held the first rank among
scientific bodies.”
For the second time Dr. Young was
selected by the Royal Society to give
the Bakerian lecture, and he again
chose for its subject “Experiments and
Calculations relative to Physical Op
tics,” and again the Edinburgh Review
came down upon him as follows : “ The
paper which stands first is another Ba
kerian lecture, containing more fan
cies, more blunders, more unfounded
hypotheses, more gratuitous fictions,
all upon the same field on which New
ton trode, and all from the fertile yet
7^5
fruitless brain of the same eternal Dr.
Young.” The reviewer thus winds up
the controversy: “We now dismiss, for
the present, the feeble lucubrations of
this author, in which we have searched
without success for some traces of
learning, acuteness, and ingenuity, that
might compensate his evident defi
ciency in the powers of solid thinking,
calm and patient investigation, and
successful development of the laws of
Nature, by steady and modest observa
tion of her operations. We came to
the examination with no other preju
dice than the very allowable prepos
session against vague hypothesis, by
which all true lovers of science have
for above a century and a half been
swayed. We pursued it, both on the
present and on a former occasion, with
out any feelings except those of regret
at the abuse of that time and oppor
tunity which no greater share of tal
ents than Dr. Young’s are sufficient to
render fruitful by mere diligence and
moderation. From us, however, he
cannot claim any portion of respect,
until he shall alter his mode of pro
ceeding, or change the subject of his
lucubrations; and we feel ourselves
more particularly called upon to ex
press our disapprobation, because, as
distinction has been unwarily bestowed
on his labors by the most illustrious
of scientific bodies, it is the more ne
cessary that a free protest should be
recorded before the more humble tri
bunals of literature.”
The reader will perceive that this
strain is not unfamiliar. Young was
denounced as Darwin is now de
nounced, professedly in the interest
of science; but the pretext was as
false then as it is now. In the former
case the animus of the assault was
mere personal spite: Brougham’s in
ordinate vanity having been wounded
by some very moderate criticisms of
Dr. Young upon his mathematical
works. But a man who did not un
derstand the subject, appealing to a
�766
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
tribunal which knew nothing about it,
against wild speculations degrading to
science, was able to depreciate and
suppress for a quarter of a century one
of the most solid and perfect theories
of natural phenomena that modern re
search has produced. And, strange as
it may seem, the work was effectually
done; for, although Young made a
masterly reply, but a single copy was
sold, and, as Tyndall remarks, “for
twenty years this man of genius was
quenched—hidden from the apprecia
tive intellect of his countrymen —
deemed, in fact, a dreamer through
the vigorous sarcasm of a writer who
had then possession of the public ear.”
Happily, the time is past when the
investigators of Nature can be thus
crushed out; but still the old tactics
are imitated, and not without evil
effect for the time. The men of sci
ence, to whom the question belongs,
are not left to pursue it in peace. The
press and the pulpit, with such scientific
help as it is not difficult to get, stir up
such a clamor of popular opprobrium
that biological students who hold to
evolution as the fact and law of Na
ture, and guide their researches by
its light, do not choose to have it pub
licly known that they are adherents
of the doctrine. We are behind Eng
land in fair and tolerant treatment
of the Darwinian question, but may
expect the same improvement in this
respect that Huxley tells us has taken
place with the English. In a recent
article he remarks: “The gradual lapse
of time has now separated us by more
than a decade from the date of the pub
lication of the ‘ Origin of Species; ’ and
whatever may be thought or said about
Mr. Darwin’s doctrines, or the manner
in which he has propounded them, this
much is certain, that, in a dozen years,
the ‘ Origin of Species’ has worked as
complete a revolution in biological sci
ence as the ‘ Principia ’ did in astrono
my—and it has done so, because, in
the words of Helmholtz, it contains
‘ an essentially new creative thought.’
And, as time has slipped by, a happy
change has come over Mr. Darwin’s
critics. The mixture of ignorance and
insolence which, at first, characterized
a large proportion of the attacks with
which he was assailed, is no longer the
sad distinction of anti-Darwinian criti
cism. Instead of abusive nonsense,
which merely discredited its writers,
we read essays, which are, at worst,
more or less intelligent and apprecia
tive ; while, sometimes, like that which
appeared in the North British Review
for 1867, they have a real and perma
nent value.”
THE EDUCATIONAL CONVENTION AT
ELIIIRA.
The national educational associa
tion recently held at Elmira, N. Y.,
was of unusual interest, and evinced a
marked progress in the public method
of dealing with educational subjects.
We have for some years refrained from
attendance upon teachers’ conventions,
having been wearied ■with the narrow
technical range and pedantic pettiness
of the discussions. But the recent
meeting showed that educators are be
ginning to outgrow their old profes
sional limitations, and to consider the
various questions that come before them
in the light of broad principles, and in
the spirit of radical and rational im
provement. Many men of ability, presi
dents of leading colleges, eminent pro
fessors, principals of high-schools, and
State and city superintendents, were
present, contributing valuable papers,
and giving strength and character to
the debates which followed them.
President McCosh delivered an able
address on the higher education, and
maintained that the national Govern
ment should not give the balance of its
lands to the agricultural colleges, nor
yet to other collegiate institutions, but
should appropriate them for the benefit
of high-schools and academies through
�EDITOR'S TABLE.
767
out the country. Dr. McCosh thus old scholastic culture which took its
stated his main position :
shape at a period when popular educa
“ I don’t propose that any portion of this tion was not thought of, and culture
$90,000,000 should be given to colleges. We was confined to the professional classes.
cannot aid all, and to select a few would be These institutions are not holding their
injurious. In regard to elementary educa own at the present time. Their stu
tion, the Northern, the Middle, and the dents are falling off, for the reason that
Western States, are able and willing to do there is a decline in the academies by
their duty. I venture to propose that in
these the unappropriated lands be devoted which the colleges are fed; that is, as
to the encouragement of secondary schools. Dr. McCosh says, “ the grand difficulty
Let each State obtain its share, and the which colleges have to contend against
money handed over to it under certain rigid arises from there being so few schools
rules and restrictions to prevent the abuse fitted to prepare young men for them.”
of the public money. In particular, to se
But the cause of the decline of the
cure that upper schools be endowed only
where needed, I suggest that money be allo academies is the rivalry of the newlycated only when a district, or, it may be, a instituted high-schools, and these are
combination of two or more districts, has the outgrowth and now an essential
raised a certain portion, say one-half, of the part of the common - school system.
necessary funds. By this means the money
The modern idea of universal educa
may be made to stimulate the erection
of high-schools all over America. These tion has become organized in such a
schools would aid colleges far more power way as to antagonize the old college
fully than a direct grant to them, as, in fact, system. The common schools are not
the grand difficulty which colleges have to constructed upon the scholastic pattern;
contend against ariseB from there being so they aim to give to all a useful practical
few schools fitted to prepare young men for
education, that shall be available in
them with their rising standard of excellence.
the common work of life. It was
But I plead for these schools, not merely as
a means of feeding colleges, but as compe found that they did not go far enough
tent to give a high education in varied in this direction for the wants of many,
branches, literary and scientific, to a far and so high-schools were organized in
greater number who do not go on to any thing which the pupils of the common schools
higher. These schools, like the elementary
schools, should be open to all children, of might graduate into the working world
the poor as well as the rich. They should with a better preparation than the
be set up, like the German gymnasium, in lower schools can furnish. It was stated
convenient localities, so that all the popula in the discussion that but one in fif
tion may have access to them. They should teen hundred of the population passes
embrace every useful branch suited to young through college, while it is left for
men and women under sixteen and eighteen
years of age—English composition, English the common and high schools to edu
language, history, classics, modern language, cate the rest of the people. As the
and elementary science. The best scholars old academies disappear, therefore,
in our primary schools would be drafted up the colleges seek to get control of
to these higher schools, and thus the young the high-schools, to be used as feeders
talent of the country would be turned to
for themselves; and this, of course, ne
good account, while the teachers in the com
mon schools would be encouraged by seeing cessitates a high-school curriculum fit
ted to prepare young men for college.
their best pupils advance.” «
This is the point at which the two sys
The discussion that followed this tems are unconformable, and is to be
speech brought out difficulties which the point of conflict in the future.
the doctor had not considered, and, in What shall be the course of study in
fact, opened the way to the most vital the high-schools? Shall it be a sequel
problem of American education. The to the common schools, or a prelude to
colleges of the country represent the the colleges, for these are different
�768
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
things? Already in some of them we
have two distinct systems of education.
A principal of one of these institutions
in the West said to the writer: “We
are working under the disadvantages
of a double curriculum. We have a
scheme of studies, scientific and practi
cal, drawn with reference to the larger
number of our pupils who come from
the common schools, and who close their
studies with us. We take them through
an English course, with mathematics,
book-keeping, political economy, phys
ics, chemistry, botany, and physiology.
And we have also a classical course for
a small number of students who are
preparing for college. But the exac
tions of Latin and Greek are so great
upon these that they get hardly a smat
tering of the subjects pursued by the
other students.” The tactics of Dr.
McCosh were admirable. To keep the
proceeds of the public lands from going
to the agricultural colleges and scien
tific institutions, he is willing to resign
all claim upon them for the benefit of
the classical colleges ; at the same time,
if the money is expended for the ex
tension of high-schools, as the doctor
says, “ these schools would aid colleges
far more powerfully than a direct grant
to them.” Yet, as long as the two sys
tems of education remain so diverse that
the regular high-school graduation is
not accepted as preparation for college,
there will be conflict for the control of
these establishments. Only as the col
lege curriculum becomes more broad,
modern, and scientific, and the classical
studies are restricted to the special
classes who have need of them, can
American education become harmon
ized in its elements and unified in its
system.
Tne report of President Eliot, of
Harvard, on a national university, was
a strong document. We publish the
last portion of it, which deals with the
main question, and ask attention to the
high grounds on which he bases his de
mand for the non-interference of gov
ernment with the system of higher edu
cation. His paper started a warm
debate on the broad and important
question of the proper relations of gov
ernment to the work of instruction,
and, of course, his views met with
vigorous opposition. It was maintained
that there is no break in the logic by
which government action is prescribed;
and that, admitting the propriety of
state action in primary education, there
is no halting-place until the govern
ment takes charge of the entire school
machinery of the country. And such
is the overshadowing influence of poli
tics, and so profound the superstition
regarding government omnipotence,
that this view found its urgent advo
cates, who seem blind to the conse
quences that are certain to follow when
the people shirk the responsibilities of
attending directly to the education of
the young, and shoulder it off upon a
mass of politicians holding the offices
of government. The friends of state
education certainly pressed their case
to its extreme conclusions. Govern
ment contributes money to support
common schools, and appoints officers
to regulate them; therefore let it
appropriate $20,000,000 to establish
a national university at Washington,
with $1,000,000 a year to be divided
among the congressional appointees,
who will hold the professorships. Dr.
McCosh suggested that recent congres
sional experiences were hardly calcu
lated to inspire confidence in the action
of that body, and asked what guarantee
we should have against a university
ring and systematic educational job
bing ; and it was objected by others
that the class of men who congregate
in the capital, and the whole spirit of
the place, would make it more unfit
than any other in the country for such
an institution. Prof. Eichards, of
Washington, came to the rescue of the
reputation of his town, and asked, em
�EDITOR'S TABLE.
phatically, “Where do its knaves and
rascals come from? We do not make
them; you send them to us from all
parts of the nation.” But the argu
ment was not helped by the retort, for
it is quite immaterial whether Wash
ington breeds its scoundrels or imports
them. If our republican system is one
that sifts out its most venal and un
scrupulous intriguers and sharpers, and
gathers them into one place, it is ques
tionable whether that place had better
not be avoided as the seat of a great
model university—especially if said in
triguers and sharpers are to have the
management of it.
769
for 1872-’73, and presents the statistics
which bear upon the subject. The
“ elections ” of subjects of study or
choices of the students are shown in a
succession of tables, the last of which
divides the college studies into “dis
ciplinary” and “practical,” and ex
hibits the results as follows:
DISCIPLINARY STUDIES.
Ancient languages
. 100
History.....................................
8T
Mathematics
....
. 21
Philosophy..............................
15
Political science ....
. 12
185
PRACTICAL STUDIES.
Modern languages
Physics and chemistry
Natural history ....
.
.
80
87
28
145
ELECTIVE STUDIES AT HARVARD.
In an instructive article upon this
subject, the Nation says : “ There was
a vague but very general impression,
a few years ago, that, if the elective
system were introduced into the older
American colleges, the practical sci
ences, as they are called, especially
physics, chemistry, and natural his
tory, would crowd out the study of
the ancient languages. There was also
a feeling that the obvious utility of the
modern languages, and particularly of
French and of German, would help to
throw the “ dead languages ” into the
background. A great many enthusiasts
fancied that the good time a-coming
was at hand, when books would be
thrown aside, and all intellectual ac
tivity would be narrowed down to the
study of physical Nature; and so much
noise has been made about the natural
sciences that a great many people un
doubtedly think this is the principal if
not the only subject taught where an
elective system prevails.”
To submit this matter to a test, and
“ ascertain what it is that the mass of
students feel the need of most and flock
to most when the choice is left entirely
to themselves,” the Nation overhauls
the university catalogue of Harvard
vol. hi.—49
“By this arrangement the disci
plinary studies preponderate over the
practical in the ratio of 185:145 or
100: 78.”
Upon this the Nation proceeds to
remark: “ The figures show conclusive
ly that, in spite of the crusade which
has been carried on against the ancient
languages, they are still full of vitality,
still a power, still a popular study, and,
in fact, the greatest interest in the
little college world. As our inquiry is
purely numerical and statistical, we do
not ask why the students make the
selections they do. Doubtless, the
reasons are not very obvious; still, one
fact is plain, that they are not guided
wholly by utilitarian views.”
Now, if the Nation had looked a
little into the “ why ” of this matter,
we are sure it would have found the
reasons for this state of things obvious
enough, and, although it might have
somewhat qualified its conclusion, it
would have made the statement more
valuable. The number of votes cast
at an election is usually an expression
of public opinion, but, if in any case
there happen to have been military
interference and dictation, the numeri
cal report of ballots cast, if taken alone,
would be misleading. We are told that
�770
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
the working of the option system at Har
vard affords an indication of the prefer
ences and tendencies of the students in
regard to the studies they incline to pur
sue ; but is not entrance to Harvard a
part of its policy, and what about the
option there? Is there not at the door
of the university a big winnowingmachine which delivers the “ discipli
nary ” studies as acceptable wheat, and
blows the “ utilitarian ” studies to the
winds as the veriest chaff? All the
preparation exacted of students for
entrance to college is in the “ discipli
nary ” studies, and mainly in the Latin
and Greek languages. Besides being
incessantly told in the preparatory
schools that the very poles of the intel
lectual world are two dead languages,
and that a classical education is the
only real broad liberal education, they
are kept for years drilling at Latin
and Greek as the only condition upon
which they can get to college at all.
The standard is here kept as high as it
was twenty years ago, and President
Eliot stated at the late Elmira conven
tion that, in the estimation of the pre
paratory teachers in New England, Har
vard requires a year more study of
Latin and Greek than the other col
leges. The student thus enters college
warped and biassed by his preparation
for it. Of the sciences he knows noth
ing, and he is prejudiced against them
as mere utilitarian studies to be con
trasted on all occasions with liberal
mental pursuits. When these facts are
remembered, it is certainly no matter
of surprise that Latin and Greek lead
in the collegiate elections of study; it
is rather surprising that they lead by
so small a number. It is very far from
being a fair or open choice when a
pupil has to repudiate his past acquisi
tions, and stem the tide of opinion
which has forced them upon him, to
take up studies under the grave dis
advantage of no early preparation. We
think the lesson of the Harvard statis
tics is not altogether exhilarating to
the partisans of the classics. When
Harvard will accept a scientific prep
aration for college as of equal value
with the classical, we shall be better
prepared to estimate the strength of
the tendencies in the two directions.
LIFE OF PRINCIPAL FORBES.
biographer of Sir Walter Scott
alludes to a “ first love ” which ended
unfortunately for the great romancer.
It is related that, rain happening to fall
one Sunday after church-time, Scott
offered his umbrella to a young lady,
and, the tender having been accepted,
he escorted her to her home. The ac
quaintance was continued, and ripened
into a strong attachment on the part
of Scott; but he was doomed to
disappointment, and Lockhart states
that it produced a profound effect upon
his character. “Keble, in a beautiful
essay on Scott, more than hints a .be
lief that it was this imaginary regret
haunting Scott all his life long which
became the true well-spring of his in
spiration in all his minstrelsy and ro
mance.” Be that as it may, the lady,
whose name was Williamina Belches,
instead of marrying Scott, chose his
friend, Sir William Forbes. They had
a family, of which the youngest, James
David, was born in 1809. When the
son was nineteen years old his father
died, and, under the immediate influ
ence of the bereavement, he drew up
a set of brief resolutions for the regu
lation of his life, one of which was “ to
curb pride and over-anxiety in the
pursuit of worldly objects, especially
fame.” Young Forbes became a fa
mous man. He took to science, and mas
tered it rapidly under the guidance of
his intimate friend Sir David Brewster,
choosing physics as his department.
At the death of Sir John Leslie, Pro
fessor of Natural Philosophy in the
University of Edinburgh, he offered
himself as a candidate for the chair, in
The
�EDITOR'S TABLE.
opposition to his old friend Brewster
and others, and was elected to the po
sition at the age of twenty-four. He
was an original investigator in a wide
field of physics, contributed to the ex
tension of knowledge in many direc
tions, and was an able writer. His
health failing, he resigned his chair in
the Edinburgh University, and accept
ed the principalship of St. Andrew’s,
and is therefore known as Principal
Forbes. He died the last day of 1868,
and an elaborate biography, by three
of his Scotch friends, has just been pub
lished by Macmillan, which is an ex
tremely interesting book.
Among other subjects of his inves
tigation were the glaciers, upon which
he published an important volume. He
met Agassiz in the Alps, while that
gentleman was experimenting upon
glacial motions, and they made obser
vations together, but subsequently fell
out with each other about the division
of the honors of discovery. The com
plication extended, involving the claims
of Bishop Rendu, Prof. Guyot, and
others. In his “ Glaciers of the Alps,”
published in 1860, Prof. Tyndall under
took to do justice to the claims of all
parties. Prof. Forbes was not satisfied
with the awards, and replied to Prof.
Tyndall’s work, vindicating his own
claims to a larger share of the investi
gation than had been accorded him. To
this Prof. Tyndall at the time made no
rejoinder; but in his recently-published
“Forms of Water” he restated the
case in a way that was not satisfactory
to Forbes’s biographers, who have met
it by an appendix to the volume. In
the Contemporary Review for August,
Prof. Tyndall returns to the question
in an elaborate paper, entitled “ Prin
cipal Forbes and his Biographers,” of
which we publish the first and last
portions, that are of most general
interest. We have not space for the
whole article, which is long, and omit
ted the extended extracts from Rendu’s
work in French, and that portion of
771
the argument which will mainly con
cern the special students of glacial lit
erature. In an introductory note to
the article, Prof. Tyndall briefly states
the origin and cause of the controversy,
and earnestly deprecates its present re
vival. He says, speaking of the biogra
phers : “I am challenged to meet their
criticisms, which, I find, are considered
to be conclusive by some able public
journals and magazines. Thus the at
titude of a controversialist is once more
forced upon me. Since the death of
Principal Forbes no one has heard me
utter a word inconsistent with tender
ness for his memory; and it is with an'
unwillingness amounting to repugnance
that I now defend myself across his
grave. His biographers profess to
know what he would have done were
he alive, and hold themselves to be the
simple executors of his will. I cannot
act entirely upon this assumption, or
deal with the dead as I should with
the living. Hence, though these pages
may appear to some to be sufficiently
full, they lack the completeness, and
still more the strength, which I ’should
have sought to confer upon them had
my present position been forced upon
me by Principal Forbes himself instead
of by his friends.”
It is to be feared that Prof. Forbes
did not sufficiently abide by the rule
of life which was formed under the
solemn circumstances of his father’s
death.
We commend to the attention of
our scientific readers, with philosophi
cal inclinations, the series of articles
on “The Primary Concepts of Modern
Physical Science,” the first of which
appears this month, on “The Theory
of the Atomic Constitution of Matter.”
The depth and force of the criticism are
only equalled by the clearness of the
conceptions, and the precision and
felicity of the statement. The interest
of the discussion will not be lessened
�772
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
when we say that ;t is by an Ohio law
yer-formerly a judge of Cincinnati.
It has been held as one of the redeem
ing features of the English bar, that
the author of the able and admirable
essay on “The Correlation of Forces ”
belongs to it; and it is certainly to the
credit of the legal profession in this
country that a member of it has culti
vated physical philosophy to such ex
cellent purpose as is evinced by the
article we now publish.
• LITERARY NOTICES.
A
Popular Introduction to the Study of
the Forces of Nature. From the French
of M. Emile Saigey. With an Intro
duction and Notes by Thomas Freeman
Moses, A. M., M. D. Boston : Estes &
Laureat. Price $1.50. 253 pages.
Although this neat and attractive little
volume claims to be a popular introduction
to the study of the forces of Nature, we
think it should rather be regarded as a
book for those who have been previously
introduced to the subject. It is rather
devoted to an exposition of the author’s
speculative views than to a simplified and
elementary statement for those who are
beginning to study. The author holds to a
universal ether, and maintains besides that
matter is constituted from it, and consists
of it, and he aims to build up the universe
of ethereal atoms and motion. The work
is written from the modem point of view
of the correlation of forces, and contains
much interesting information upon this
subject, but the author is less concerned
merely to interpret the phenomena of inter
action among the forces than to get below
them to what he regards as the causes of
their unity. “The atom and motion, be
hold the universe! ” is a somewhat Frenchy
and fantastic cosmology. To readers of a
speculative turn of mind the book will prove
interesting.
The Unity of Natural Phenomena.
Sanitary Engineering : a Guide to the
Construction of Works of Sewerage and
House-Drainage. By Baldwin Latham,
C. E. 352 pages. Price $12. New
York : E. & F. N. Spon.
This work is in all respects a contrast
to that of M. Saigey. Instead of transcen
dental ether, it treats of descendental sew
erage, and, instead of remote imaginative
speculations, it is occupied with the most
immediate and practical of the interests of
daily life. Of the importance of the sub
ject treated, the preservation of life and
health by the thorough construction of
sanitary works, there can be no question,
and the author claims that it is the first
book exclusively devoted to subjects re
lating to sanitary engineering. He has
gathered his material from official reports,
periodical papers, and various works which
touch the subject incidentally, and, adding
to them the results of his own practice, has
produced a most valuable treatise. As
science unravels the complicated conditions
of life, it becomes more and more apparent
that health can only be maintained by the
destruction or thorough removal of those
deleterious products which are engendered
in dwellings. The necessity of drainage is
well understood, and the art has been long
practised in all civilized countries; but, like
all other arts, its intelligent and efficient
practice depends upon scientific principles,
and therefore progresses with a growing
knowledge of the subject. The questions
involved in the proper sewerage of a district
are numerous. Its geological character and
physical features have to be considered;
the meteorological element of rainfall is
important; the constitution of the soil and
subsoil must be taken into account; the
sources and extent of artificial water-supply
are of moment; and the area of the district
to be sewered, and its present and pro
spective population, cannot be overlooked.
Much information of this kind requires also
to be called into requisition in the construc
tion of separate country-residences. The
physical circumstances being given, there
then arise numerous questions in regard to
drainage, construction, household contriv
ances, the materials employed, and the cost,
efficiency, and permanency of works. Mr.
Latham’s volume treats this whole series
of topics in a systematic and exhaustive
way. It is profusely illustrated with wood
cuts and maps, and contains numerous
tables which are indispensable for the
guidance of constructors. It is not re
printed, but is supplied by the New-York
branch of the London house, who hold it
at an exorbitant pice.
�LITERARY NOTICES.
773
and Myth-Makers: Old Tales and attractiveness, due to a certain subtle tact
Superstitions interpreted by Compara or refinement hard to analyze, but quite
tive Mythology. By John Fiske. Price, sensibly felt, which marks the best Ameri
$2.00. Boston: James R. Osgood & Co.,
can essay-writing; and his manner of deal
1873.
ing with his subject is well fitted to reassure
Travellers to the United States, and those who have been deterred from seeking
American authors themselves, have often any acquaintance with comparative my
remarked on the affectionate veneration thology, either by the formidable appearance
shown by Americans for the oldest things of philological apparatus and Vedic proper
in Europe, and for all the associations con names, or by the aggressive boldness of
necting their present life with the life of one or two champions of the new learning.
their forefathers in the old country. Not It is very natural to feel a rebellious impulse
long ago, it may be remembered, the build at being told that half the gods and heroes
ers of a new meeting-house at Boston of the classical epics, or even the nursery
(United States), sent for a brick from the tales, which have delighted us from our
prototype still standing at our Boston in youth up, are sun and sky, light and dark
England. We now find an officer of Har ness, summer and winter, in various dis
vard University putting forth labor which guises.
is evidently a labor of love, and the literary
The myth is in its origin neither an al
skill and taste in which the best American legory—as Bacon and many others have
writers set an example worth commending thought—nor a metaphor—as seems now
to many of ours ; and the things he speaks and then to be implied in the language of
of belong to the Old World; to a world, modern comparative mythologists—but a
indeed, so far off that for centuries we had genuinely-accepted explanation of facts, a
lost its meaning, and have only just learned “ theorem of primitive Aryan science,” as
to spell it out again. His theme takes Mr. Fiske happily expresses it. This view
him back from the New World, not only to is brought out in the last essay of the vol
England, not only to Europe, but to the ume, entitled “ The Primeval Ghost World,”
ancient home of the Aryan race, a world where the genesis of mythology is held not
still full of wonders for the dwellers in it, to be explicable by the science of language
whose changes of days' and seasons, inter alone, and is rather ascribed to the complete
preted by the analogy of human will and absence of distinction between animate and
action, were instinct with manifold life; inanimate Nature, which is now known to
where the imagination of our fathers shaped be common to all tribes of men in a primi
the splendid and gracious forms which have tive condition, and to which Mr. Tylor has
gone forth over the earth, as their children given the name of Animism. We are
went forth, and prevailed in many lands, pleased to find Mr. Fiske praising Mr. Tyand have lived on through all the diverse lor’s work warmly, and even enthusiasti
fates of the kindred peoples in India, in cally : here is another of the many proofs
Greece, in Iceland, to bear witness in the that the ties of common language and cult
latter days to the unity of the parent stock. ure are in the long-run stronger than diplo
This book, which Mr. Fiske modestly intro macy and Indirect Claims. We find men
duces as a “ somewhat rambling and unsys tioned, among other instances of animism,
tematic series of papers,” seems to us to the belief that a man’s shadow is a sort of
give the leading results of comparative my ghost or other self. This belief has, in
thology in a happier manner and with comparatively-recent times, made its mark
greater success than has yet been attained even in so civilized a tongue as the Greek,
in so small a compass. It is the work of
in Romaic is a ghost, or rather a
a student who follows in the steps of the personified object generally, and seems to
great leaders with right-minded apprecia correspond exactly to the other self attrib
tion, and who, though he does not make uted by primitive man to all creatures, liv
any claim to originality, is no ordinary ing or not living, indiscriminately. Mr.
compiler. He is enthusiastic in his pursuit, Geldart, in a note to his book on Modem
without being a fanatic; his style has the Greek (Oxford, 1870), which well deserves
Myths
�774
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
the attention of students of language and
mythology, traces this as well as older al
lied meanings from the original meaning of
aroi-xYiov in classical Greek, as the shadow
on the sun-dial, acutely observing that the
moving shadow would seem to the natural
man far more alive and mysterious than the
fixed rod.
There are several matters dealt with in
special chapters by Mr. Fiske which we
must put off with little more than allusion:
the book is indeed a small one, but so full
of interest that choice among its contents
is not easy. An essay on “ The Descent of
Fire ” treats of the divining-rod and other
talismans endowed with the faculty of rend
ing open rocks and revealing hidden treas
ure, which all appear to be symbols, some
times obvious, sometimes remotely and fan
cifully derived, of the lightning which breaks
the cloud and lets loose the treasures of the
rain. There is also a chapter on the my
thology of non-Aryan tribes, showing the
difference between the vague resemblance
of these to Aryan myths and to one another,
and the close family likeness which leads to
the certain conclusion that the great mass
of Aryan mythology came from a common
stock.—Spectator.
and School : A Journal of Popular
Education. Morton & Co., Louisville.
In a late number of this journal is an
excellent article by Prof. Alexander Hogg,
of the Alabama Agricultural and Mechani
cal College, entitled “ More Geometry—
less Arithmetic,” that contains various sug
gestions worthy the thoughtful attention of
teachers. It was a favorite idea of the
late Josiah Holbrook, which he enforced
upon educators on all occasions, that rudi
mentary geometry should be introduced
into all primary schools; but he insisted
with equal earnestness upon his theory of
their order, which was embodied in his
aphorism, “ Drawing before writing, and
geometry before arithmetic.” The priority
of geometrical or arithmetical conception
in the unfolding mind is a subtle psycho
logical question, into which it is not neces
sary for the teacher to go, the practical
question being to get a recognition of the
larger claims of geometry, and this is the
point to which Prof. Hogg wisely directs
Home
the discussion. The fact is, mental devel
opment has been too much considered in
its linear and successive aspects, and the
theories that are laid down concerning the
true order of studies have been hitherto
too much confined to this idea. Starting
with inherited aptitudes, mental develop
ment begins in the intercourse of the infant
mind with the environment, and, while it is
true that there is a sequence of mental ex
perience in each increasing complexity, it is
equally true that many kinds of mental ac
tion are unfolded together. Ideas of form
are certainly among the earliest, and there
fore should have an early cultivation. To
all that Prof. Hogg says about the need of
increasing the amount of geometry in edu
cation we cordially subscribe, and we think
he is equally right in condemning the excess
of attention that is given to arithmetic,
which is mainly due to its supposed prac
tical character as a preparation for business.
But neither is geometry without its impor
tant practical uses. The professor says :
“ Let us see, then, what a pupil with
enough arithmetic and the plane geometry
can perform. He can measure heights and
distances; determine areas; knows that,
having enclosed one acre with a certain
amount of fencing, to enclose four acres
he only has to double the amount of fencing;
that the same is true of his buildings. In
circles, in round plats, or in cylindrical ves
sels, he will see a beautiful, universal law
pervading the whole—the increase of the
circumference is proportional to the in
crease of the diameter, while the increase
of the circle is as the square of the diam
eter. . . .
“ Thousands of boys are stuffed to re
pletion with ‘interest,’ ‘discount,’ and
‘ partnership,’ in which they have experi
enced much ‘ loss ’ but no ‘ profit; ’ have
mastered as many as five arithmetics, and
yet, upon being sent into the surveyor’s of
fice, machine-shop, and carpenter-shop,
could not erect a perpendicular to a
straight line, or find the centre of a circle
already described, if their lives depended
upon it. Many eminent teachers think that
young persons are incapable of reasoning,
and that the truths of geometry are too ab
struse to be comprehended by them. . . .
“ Children are taught to read, not for
�LITERARY NOTICES.
what is contained in the reading-books, but
that they may be able to read through life;
so, let enough of the leading branches be
taught, if no more, to enable the pupil to
pursue whatever he may need most in after
life. Let, then, an amount of geometry
commensurate with its importance be
taught even in the common schools; let it
be taught at the same time with arithmetic;
let as much time be given to it, and we shall
find thousands who, instead of closing their
mathematical books on leaving school, will
be led to pursue the higher mathematics in
their maturer years.”
The Mystery of Matter and Other Es
says. By J. Allanson Picton. 12mo,
pp. 482. Price $3.50. Macmillan & Co.
The purpose of this work is to reconcile
the essential principles of religious faith with
the present tendencies of thought in the
sphere of positive and physical science. Mr.
Picton is not a votary of modem skepti
cism, although he recognizes the fact of its
existence, and its bearing on vital questions.
Nor is he a partisan of any of the current
systems of philosophy or science, but dis
cusses their various pretensions in the spirit
of intelligent and impartial criticism. He
has no fear of their progress or influence;
he accepts many of their conclusions; he
honors the earnestness and ability of their
expounders ; while he believes that their re
sults are in harmony with the essential ideas
of religion. It is possible, he affirms, that
all forms of finite existence may be reduced
to modes of motion. But this is of no con
sequence in a religious point of view, for
motion itself is only the visible manifesta
tion of the energy of an infinite life. “ To
me,” he says, “ the doctrine of an eternal
continuity of development has no terrors ;
for, believing matter to be in its ultimate
essence spiritual, I see in every cosmic revo
lution a ‘ change from glory to glory, as by
the Spirit of the Lord.’ I can look down
the uncreated, unbeginning past, without
the sickness of bewildered faith. I want no
silent dark eternity in which no world was ;
for I am a disciple of One who said, * My
Father worketh hitherto.’ My sense of
eternal order is no longer jarred by the sud
den appearance in the universe of a dead,
inane substance, foreign to God and spiritual
775
being. And if, with a true insight, I could
stand so high above the world as to take
any comprehensive survey of its unceasing
evolutions—here a nebula dawning at the
silent fiat ‘ be light,’ there the populous
globe, where the communion of the many
with the One brings the creature back to
the Creator—I am sure that the oneness of
the vision, so far from degrading, would un
speakably elevate my sense of the dignity
and blessedness of created being. I have
no temptation, therefore, to join in cursing
the discoverer who tracks the chain of divine
forces by which finite consciousness has
been brought to take its present form ; be
cause I know he can never find more than
that which was in the beginning, and is, and
ever shall be—the ‘ power of an endless
life.’ ”
With regard to the speculations of Prof.
Huxley, the author, so far from bewailing
their effects, pronounces them decidedly
favorable to the interests of religion. They
present a formidable barrier to the encroach
ments of materialism. In this respect, he
thinks that Prof. Huxley has rendered ser
vices to the Church, if less signal, not less
valuable, than those which he has rendered
to science. He has brought the religious
world face to face with facts with a vigor
and a clearness peculiar to himself. Not
only so. In the opinion of the author, he
has made suggestions concerning those facts
of vast importance to the future of religion.
He has defined the only terms on which
harmony is possible between spiritual re
ligion and physical science. Equalling
Berkeley in transparent distinctness of
statement, while he far surpasses him in
knowledge of physical phenomena, Mr. Hux
ley has shown that, whether we start with
materialism or idealism, we are brought at
length to the same point. He has thus
proved himself one of the most powerful op
ponents that materialism ever had. All
that he did in his celebrated discourse on
the “ Physical Basis of Life ” was, to call
attention to certain indisputable facts.
“And perhaps it was the impossibility of
denying these facts which was a main cause
of the uneasiness that most of us felt.
Thus he told us that all organizations, from
the lichen up to the man, are all composed
mainly of one sort of matter, which in all
�776
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
cases, even those at the extremity of the deed follow that materialism, in a fair sense
scale, is almost identical in composition. of the word, is impossible, still the conclu
And the one other fact on which he insisted sion cannot be avoided that materialism
was, that every living action, from the vi and spiritualism would then exhibit only
brations of cilia by the foraminifer to the different aspects of the same everlasting
imagination of Hamlet or the composition fact, and physical research might henceforth
of the Messiah, is accompanied by, and in a unfold to us only the energies of Infinite
sense finds an equivalent expression in, a Life self-governed by eternal law.
definite waste or disintegration of material
But, admitting the universal action of
tissue. Thus it is no less certain that the molecular mechanics, the author adduces
muscles of a horse are strained by a heavy numerous instances which show that the
load, than it is that the brain of a Shake explanation they offer of the phenomena of
speare undergoes molecular agitation, pro sensation cannot be realized in conscious
ducing definite chemical results, in the sub ness. Nothing is really an explanation
lime effort of imagination.”
which cannot be reproduced in conscious
But, at first blush, such statements pro ness as such. We demand a cause from
duce a shock in the minds of most readers. which the effect can rationally be educed.
They are reluctant to be told that the soul The perception of distance, for example, is
never acts by itself apart from some excite explained by the action of the muscular
ment of bodily tissue. It seems monstrous sense and the experience of touch. This is
that thought and love, which in one direc an adequate explanation, for it can be re
tion find their expression in the majesty of alized in consciousness. But the case is far
eloquence, should in another direction find otherwise with the explanation of sensation
their expression in evolving carbonic acid by molecular mechanics. Physical research
and water. Such a union between soul and lands us in a dead inert substance called
body seemed to amount to identity. And matter, which, though without soul or mean
yet the soul was conscious that, whatever ing in itself, produces by its vibrations the
might be said, it was not one of the chemi most beautiful visions and sublime emotions
cal elements, nor all of them put together.
in our consciousness. But the external phe
The mental anxiety referred to has been nomena, inseparable from our consciousness
aggravated by the hold which has been of sight or sound, cannot be rationally con
taken on most inquiring minds, by the doc nected with the consciousness that gives
trine of development. Whether natural them all their interest. No one to whom
selection is or is not sufficient to account the Hallelujah Chorus utters the joy of
for the origin of species, the idea of suc heaven, or for whom a sonata of Beethoven
cessive acts of creation out of nothing has gives a voice to the unutterable, can make
been virtually abandoned by all whose ob it seem real to himself that his mind is in
servations of Nature have been on such a vaded by mere waves of vibrating air. At
scale as to entitle their opinions to any no point in the chain of vibrations, not even
weight. What was once the property of a the point most deeply buried in the brain,
few isolated thinkers has been made com can we conceive that molecular action is
pletely accessible to minds of common in converted into any thing besides material
telligence. But the terrors which have movement, or resistance to movement. But
been awakened by the popular reception of this does not exhaust the consciousness.
novel scientific theories are entirely founded The emotional, imaginative, and moral
on the assumption that matter and spirit wealth of human life opens a world of re
are fundamentally distinct in their nature. ality immeasurably greater than can be con
It has been the general belief that matter tained in mere mechanical movement.
was something heavy, lifeless, inert, some
Assuming, then, the fact of a nature in
thing that forms the hidden basis of the man, of which the molecular laws are not
ethereal vision of the world. But, argues the substance, but the condition, the author
the author, if that assumption be the mere takes up the inquiry as to the essential
creature of false analogy, and is wholly in nature of religion. This he defines to be
congruous and unthinkable, it does not in the endeavor after a practical expression of
�LITERARY NOTICES.
man’s conscious relation to the Infinite.
The savage who wonders at the unseen but
mighty wind that streams from unknown
realms of power has already the germ of
the feeling which inspires religion. But the
conscious relation to the Infinite includes
every stage in this consciousness, just as
the name of a plant includes the blade as
well as the fruit. If the evolution of reli
gion be a normal phase in the development
of mankind, there must be at the root of it
that grand and measureless Power which is
the inevitable complement of the conception
of evolution. All evolution implies a divine
Power, but religious evolution has to do
with the dim apprehension of that Power in
consciousness. Mr. Herbert Spencer, to
continue the reasoning of the author, has
been much blamed, by many religious think
ers, for making the reconciliation between
science and religion to lie in the recognition
on both sides that “ the Power which the
universe manifests to us is utterly inscru
table.” Yet the very persons who most
strenuously object to this suggestion are in
the habit of quoting the words of Scripture
which declare the unsearchable mystery of
the Divine Nature. Those words are used
to rebuke the arrogance of philosophy. But,
when philosophy learns the lesson, its hu
mility is condemned as wilful blindness.
The true philosophy of ignorance, however,
retains as an indestructible element of hu
man consciousness an apprehension of
something beyond all fragmentary existence,
the Absolute Being, at once the only true
substance, and the One that constitutes a
universe from the phenomenal world. It
is inevitable that attempts should be made
to give practical expression to this feeling.
And in such efforts we find the first germs
of religion.
With the imperfect summary which we
have given of the views maintained in this
volume, it will be perceived that its position
in literature is that of a commentary on
new developments of thought, rather than
of a complete exposition of any system of
philosophy or science. Accepting the con
sequences of modem physical research, it
aims to establish their consistency with the
principles of a high religious faith, and thus
to remove the vague alarms which their
prevalence has called forth in certain por
711
tions of the community. The author is
evidently a man of an ardent poetical tem
perament, of a reverent and tender spirit,
and an aptitude for illustration rather than
for demonstration.—N. Y. Tribune.
Chimneys for Furnaces, Fireplaces, and
Steam-Boilers. By R. Armstrong, C.
E., 12mo, 76 pages. Price, 50 cents.
This is number one of Van Nostrand’s
science series, and is a technological mono
graph that will be useful to engineers and
builders. The author says : “ Furnaces or
closed fireplaces, which it is the main de
sign of this essay to treat upon, are essen
tially different in principle and construction
to the ordinary open fireplaces of dwelling
houses, as they are exceedingly different in
their general scope and object, and in the
vast variety of their applications; ” and he
then proceeds to expound the general phi
losophy of special chimneys for furnaces
and steam-boilers.
Steam-Boiler Explosions. By Zerah Col
burn. 12mo, 98 pages.
New York :
D. Van Nostrand.
This is number two of the same series,
and is a most instructive and readable essay.
The editor states that, although published
ten years ago, later experiences would add
but little if any thing to the knowledge it
affords. The various observed scientific
questions in regard to the causes of steamboiler explosions, such as over-heating, elec
tricity, the spheroidal state, decomposed
steam, etc., are considered, but Mr. Colburn
maintains that, whether these are valid
causes of explosion or not, they are colleotively as nothing compared with the one
great cause—defective boilers. The style
in which this essay is written is a model of
simplicity and clearness.
Bulletin
ural
of the Buffalo Society of Nat
Sciences. Vol. I., Nos. 1 and 2.
Buffalo, 1873.
The Buffalo Society of Natural Sciences
commences this year the publication of their
Bulletin, which it is proposed to continue,
four numbers to be issued annually. The
two numbers before us contain seven papers,
six of which are devoted to the describing
and cataloguing of American moths, and
one gives descriptions of new species of
�778
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
fungi. The author of the latter paper is
Charles H. Peck ; all the others are by Au
gustus R. Grote. Mr. Grote is well known
to entomologists as an authority on the sub
jects which he discusses, and the Buffalo
society is to be congratulated for being the
medium through which the laborious and
valuable researches of so able a naturalist
are published to the world. The papers are
strictly scientific and technical, being in
tended solely for those who pursue method
ically the special branches of science to
which they refer. They are not popular
expositions, but rather brief notes on cer
tain departments of natural science, to be
understood and valued only by the initiated.
The Bulletin is handsomely printed on good
paper, in octavo form. Subscription price,
$2.50 per volume.
Scientific and Industrial Education. A
Lecture. By G. B. Stebbins. Detroit, 1873,
pp. 24.
The Railroads of the United States. By
Henry V. Poor. New York : H. V. & H. W.
Poor, 68 Broadway, pp. 29.
Cosmical and Molecular Harmonics, No.
II. By Pliny Earle Chase, M. A. Philadel
phia, 1873, pp. 16.
Nickel.
pp. 19.
By Dr. Lewis Feuchtwanger,
Diminution of Water on the Earth, and
its Permament Conversion into Solid Forms.
By Mrs. George W. Houk. Dayton, 0., 1873,
pp. 39.
Sixth Annual Report of the Trustees of
the Peabody Museum of American Archaeol
ogy and Ethnology. Cambridge, 1873, pp.
Atmospheric Theory of the Open Polar 27. Mr. Gillman’s report of his explora
Sea : with Remarks on the Present State tions of the ancient mounds on the St. Clair
of the Question. By William W. Wheil- River is an important contribution to ar
don. First Paper. Boston, 1872.
chaeology. The museum is in a flourishing
This paper was read at the meeting of the state, and growing steadily. The Niccolucci
American Association for the Advancement collection of ancient crania and implements
of Science, held at Newport, R. I., in 1860, was the most important addition made
and was published in the volume of proceed during the past year.
ings of the Association for that year. The ex
traordinary interest taken in Arctic affairs
during the past two years has led to its re
MISCELLANY.
issue in pamphlet form, with brief introduc
Utilization of Waste Coal.—The English
tory observations on the present state of the
problem. Accepting the view, now quite gen Mechanic gives an historical sketch of the
erally held, that an open sea, or at least a various processes suggested for the utiliza
much ameliorated climate, exists in the vi tion of the waste of coal-mines. From this
cinity of the pole, the author, in this paper, account it would appear that so early as the
aims to show that such a condition of things close of the sixteenth century the waste of
“ is largely if not entirely <Me to the cur small coal attracted notice. About the year
rents of the air from the equatorial regions 1594 one Sir Hugh Platt proposed a mixture
which move in the higher strata of the of coal-dust and loam, together with such
earth’s atmosphere, bearing heat and moist combustible materials as sawdust and tan
ure with them.” How well he succeeds in ners’ bark: the loam being the cement
this undertaking, we leave the readers of which was to hold the other ingredients to
gether. But Sir Hugh’s suggestions did not
the argument to judge.
receive much attention in those early times,
when coal was but little, used, wood being
the staple fuel of England.
BOOKS RECEIVED.
It was only at the beginning of the
Washington Catalogue of Stars. By or present century that this question began to
der of Rear-Admiral Sands, U. S. N. Wash receive serious attention. A patent was
ington, 1873.
then granted for a mixture of refuse coal
First Annual Report of the Minnesota with charcoal, wood, breeze, tan, peat, saw
State Board of Health. St. Paul, 1873, dust, cork-cuttings, and other inflammable
pp. 102.
ingredients. A capital objection to such a
�MISCELLANY.
scheme is its expense. The product would
necessarily cost about as much per ton as
good coal, without being at all as service
able. The next attempt was the production
of “gaseous coke.” Here the object was to
convert small coal, by the addition of coaltar, either pure, or mixed with naphtha, into
a well-mixed mass. It was then to be put
into an oven and coked ; afterward it was
to be broken into suitable blocks for use.
There were several modifications of this
process, but as they all more or less involved
the previous manufacture of their most es
sential ingredient, coal-tar, the anticipations
of the projectors were not realized.
In 1823 a step was taken in the right
direction by the combination of bituminous
and anthracite coals, and converting them,
by partial carbonization in an oven, into a
kind of soft coke. In 1845 Frederick Ran
some introduced a plan for cementing to
gether small coal by means of a solution of
silica dissolved in caustic soda, the small
refuse coal so treated to be then compressed
into blocks suitable for use. In 1849 Henry
Bessemer proposed simply to heat small
coal sufficient to soften it, and thus render
it capable of being easily pressed into
moulds and formed into solid blocks. The
coal, according to this plan, might be soft
ened either by the action of steam or in
suitable ovens. Coal alone was used, no
extraneous matter of any kind being em
ployed. In 1856 F. Ransome brought for
ward one of the best plans yet offered. He
placed the small coal in suitable moulds,
which were then passed into an oven, and
there heated just sufficiently to cause the
mass to agglomerate.
Though the writer in the Mechanic com
mends highly the Ransome and the Besse
mer plans, it is clear that they do not fully
solve the problem, for inventors are still
busy on both sides of the Atlantic devising
other and better methods. Perhaps, how
ever, the successful working of the Crans
ton “Automatic Reverberatory Furnace,”
which is adapted for the consumption of
powdered coal, will cause such a demand
for small coal as will leave these utilizing
processes without material to work on.
779
nia of the Human Races,” and recently
laid before the Paris Academy of Sciences
a synopsis of the results which he there
proposes to establish. The materials he
has at hand for this investigation are
abundant—no less than 4,000 skulls; and
he acknowledges the valuable assistance
rendered to him by the most eminent sa
vants both of France and of the rest of
Europe. He holds that the fossil races are
not extinct, but that, on the contrary, they
have yet living representatives. He regards
the skull discovered in 1700 at Canstadt,
near Stuttgart, as the type of the most an
cient human race of which we have ac
knowledge. This skull is dolichocephalous
—that is, having a length greater than its
breadth. With the Canstadt skull he
classes those of Enghisheim, Brux, Nean
derthal, La Denise, Staengenaes, Olmo, and
Clichy—the last-named three being the
skulls of females. Among the representa
tives, in historical times, of the dolichoceph
alous race, M. Quatrefages reckons Kay
Lykke, a Danish statesman of the seven
teenth century, whose skull is portrayed in
the forthcoming work; Saint Mansuy, Bishop
of Toul in the fourth century, whose skull is
also figured ; and Robert Bruce. Whether
the cranium is long or short—dolichoceph
alous or brachycephalous—is a question
which has nothing to do with the intel
lectual status of the man, according to M.
Quatrefages.
Heart-Disease and Overwork.—The ear
ly break-down of health observed among
Cornish miners, and commonly regarded
as an affection of the lungs —“ miners’
phthisis ”—is declared, by competent au
thority, to proceed rather from disturbed
action of the heart; and this, according to
Dr. Houghton, the distinguished Dublin
physiologist, is caused by the great and
sudden strain put upon the system by the
ascent from the pits, at a time when the
body is not sufficiently fortified with food.
In his valuable address on the “ Relation
of Food to Work,” Dr. Houghton says:
“ The labor of the miner is peculiar, and his
food appears to me badly suited to meet its
requirements. At the close of a hard day’s
Qnatrefages on Human Crania.—Quatre- toil the weary miner has to climb, by verti
fages is engaged on a work entitled “ Cra cal ladders, through a height of from 600 to
�780
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
1,200 feet, before he can reach his cottage,
where he naturally looks for his food and
sleep. This climbing of the ladders is per
formed hastily, almost as a gymnastic feat,
and throws a heavy strain (amounting to
from one-eighth to one-quarter of the whole
day’s work) upon the muscles of the tired
miner, during the half-hour or hour that con
cludes his daily toil. A flesh-fed man (as a
red Indian) would run up the ladders like a
cat, using the stores of force already in re
serve in his blood ; but the Cornish miner,
who is fed chiefly upon dough and fat, finds
himself greatly distressed by the climbing of
the ladders—more so, indeed, than by the
slower labor of quarrying in the mine. His
heart, over-stimulated by the rapid exer
tion of muscular work, beats more and
more quickly in its efforts to oxidate the
blood in the lungs, and so supply the force
required. Local congestion of the lung it
self frequently follows, and lays the founda
tion for the affection so graphically though
sadly described by the miner at forty years
of age, who tells you that his other works
are very good, but that he is ‘ beginning to
leak in the valves ’ Were I a Cornish miner,
and able to afford the luxury, I should train
myself for the ‘ ladder-feat ’ by dining on
half a pound of rare beefsteak and a glass
of ale from one to two hours before com
mencing the ascent,”
San Jorge. In 1866, for instance, the vol
cano of Santorin emitted smoke charged
with acid, which produced on plants effects
similar to those observed at San Jorge in
1808.
A writer in the Revue Scientijique is of
the opinion that the facts above stated
give the solution of some of the problems
raised by the exhumations at Pompeii. The
strange posture of skeletons found in the
streets of that town is very difficult to ac
count for, if we insist on finding analogies
with phenomena observed in modem erup
tions of Vesuvius. A shower of ashes, how
ever heavy, however charged with humidity,
could never have thrown down and choked
a strong man like the one who met his
death while making his escape, in company
with his two daughters, along one of the
public roads. They must have inhaled a
poisonous gas of some kind, which caused
them to perish in fearful agony. This gas
would not lie in a layer of equal thickness :
in some places it might have a greater depth
than in others. Hence, while some of the
inhabitants would perish, the remainder
would escape.
It is very probable that the eruption in
the year 79 was accompanied with local
emissions of carbonic acid, springing from
points remote from the crater. In all vol
canic regions, says the author, there are
localities where, even when the volcano is
inactive, carbonic acid exists in the atmos
phere, in quantities sufficient to produce
asphyxia: and the neighborhood of Vesu
vius is particularly noted for the number of
6uch localities. During an eruption, the
amount of the gas given out is usually in
creased, and wells, ditches, quarries, etc.,
are filled with carbonic acid. It is some
times dangerous to enter cavities in the
rocks on the coast when a fresh breeze does
not keep them free of the poisonous gas.
In 1861 Ste.-Claire Deville came near meet
ing his death by entering one of these cavi
ties for a few moments. The following
week he and the author barely escaped
being asphyxiated in the bed of a great
quarry, which they had previously visited
many a time with impunity.
Poisonous Volcanie Gases. — During a
volcanic eruption on the little island of San
Jorge, one of the Azores, in the year 1808,
vaporous clouds were seen to roll down the
sides of the mountain, and to move along
the valley. Wherever they passed, plants
and animals wilted and perished instanta
neously. From this asphyxiating action,
as also from their downward movement on
the mountain-side and toward the sea, we
may conclude that they consisted chiefly of
some dense, deleterious gas, most probably
carbonic acid. Their opacity is to be at
tributed to the presence of watery vapor,
and their reddish color to the presence of
tine volcanic dust. Finally, their injurious
action on plants was doubtless owing to the
presence of chlorhydric and sulphurous acid.
Similar phenomena have been observed
on occasion of other volcanic outbreaks,
A Relie of Ancient Etrurian Art. — An
but nowhere so marked as in the case of antiquarian discovery of very considerable
�MISCELLANY.
interest was recently made at Cervetri,
Italy, being a terra-cotta sarcophagus of
native Etruscan production. The ancient
Etrurians were noted for the honor they
bestowed upon their dead, and their custom
of paying homage to ancestors by placing
their effigies upon their tombs seems to
have been peculiar to themselves, and un
known among the Greeks. The recentlydiscovered sarcophagus is now in the British
Museum. It measures internally four feet
ten inches in length, and two feet in width.
The floor is hollowed out, or rather marked
by a raised border, which takes the form
of a human figure. It rests upon four claw
feet projecting beyond the angles, and ter
minating above in the head and breasts of
a winged siren. The lid of the sarcophagus
represents an upholstered couch upon which
recline two human figures, male and female.
There are inscriptions on the four sides of
the couch. The panel at the foot has the
figures of two warriors in panoply, and the
front panel exhibits the same pair of war
riors engaged in mortal combat. Several
accessory figures are also to be seen. On
the panel at the head of the couch are rep
resented four sitting figures in opposing
pairs, plunged in deep sorrow. The monu
ment has no counterpart among those of its
kind hitherto discovered, the only one at
all resembling it being that of the Campana
Collection in the Louvre. The latter is,
however, of a much more recent date than
the former, nor is it adorned with either
reliefs or inscriptions. The Cervetri sar
cophagus probably dates from the period of
Etruscan ascendency in Italy.
Audible and Inaudible Sounds.—The
phenomenon of color-blindness is a familiar
fact; but an analogous phenomenon, what
might be called pitch-deafness, though not
uncommon, is not so generally known. By
•Ditch-deafness is meant insensibility to cer
tain sound-vibrations. Prof. Donaldson, of
the University of Edinburgh, used to illus
trate the different grades of sensibility to
sound by a very simple experiment, namely,
by sounding a set of small organ-pipes of
great acuteness of tone. The gravest note
would be sounded first, and this would be
heard by the entire class. Soon some one
would remark, “ There, ’tis silent,” whereas
781
all the rest, perhaps, would distinctly hear
the shrill piping continued. As the tone
rose, one after another of the students
would lose sensation of the acute sounds,
until finally they became inaudible to all.
There is reason for supposing that per
sons whose ear is sensitive to very acute
sounds are least able to hear very grave
notes, and vice versa. Probably the hear
ing capacity of the human ear ranges over
no more than 12 octaves. The gravest
note audible to the human ear is supposed
to represent about 15 vibrations per second,
and the sharpest 48,000 per second.
The auditory range of animals is doubt
less very different from that of man; they
hear sounds which are insensible to us, and
vice versa. Many persons are insensible to
the scream of the bat—it is too acute. But
to the bat itself that sound must be in all
cases perfectly sensible. If, then, we sup
pose the bat to have an auditory range of
12 octaves, and its scream or cry to stand
midway in that range, the animal would
hear tones some six octaves higher than
those audible to the human ear—two and a
half million vibrations per second.
Scoresby and other arctic voyagers and
whale-hunters have observed that whales
have some means of communicating with
one another at great distances. It is prob
able that the animals bellow in a tone too
grave for the human ear, but quite within
the range of the cetacean ear.
The Motions of the Heart.—According
to the generally-accepted teachings of phys
iologists, the heart rests after each pulsa
tion ; that is, each complete contraction
during which the auricles are emptied into
the ventricles, and the ventricles into the
vessels, is followed by a moment’s repose,
when the organ is entirely at rest. Dr. J.
Bell Pettigrew, in his recently-published
lectures on the “ Physiology of the Circula
tion,” takes a different view, affirming that
the normal action of the heart is a con
tinuous one, and that as a whole it never
ceases to act until it comes to a final stop.
He says : “ When the heart is beating nor
mally, one or other part of it is always mov
ing. When the veins cease to close, and
the auricles to open, the auricles begin to
close and the ventricles to open ; and so on
�782
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
in endless succession. In order to admit
of these changes, the auriculo-ventricular
valves, as has been stated, rise and fall like
the diaphragm in respiration; the valves
protruding, now into the auricular cavities,
now into the ventricular ones. There is in
reality no pause in the heart’s action. The
one movement glides into the other as a
snake glides into the grass. All that the
eye can detect is a quickening of the gliding
movements, at stated and very short inter
vals. A careful examination of the sounds
of the heart shows that the sounds, like the
movements, glide into each other. There
is no actual cessation of sound when the
heart is in action. There are periods when
the sounds are very faint, and when only a
sharp or an educated ear can detect them,
and there are other periods when the sounds
are so distinct that even a dull person must
hear; but the sounds—and this is the point
to be attended to—merge into each other
by slow or sudden transitions. It would
be more accurate, when speaking of the
movements and sounds of the heart, to say
they are only faintly indicated at one time,
and strongly emphasized at another, but that
neither ever altogether ceases. If, however,
the heart is acting more or less vigorously
as a whole, the question which naturally
presents itself is, How is the heart rested ?
There can be little doubt it rests, as it acts,
viz., in parts. The centripetal and centrif
ugal wave-movements pass through the
sarcous elements of the different portions
of the heart very much as the wind passes
through the leaves : its particles are stirred
in rapid succession, but never at exactly the
same instant; the heart is moving as a
whole, but its particles are only moving at
regular and stated intervals ; the periods
of repose, there is every reason to believe,
greatly exceeding the periods of activity.
The nourishment, life, and movements of
the heart are, in this sense, synonymous.”
phere being represented as 100), he found
the birds seized with violent convulsions.
The same result followed when sparrows
were confined in common air under a press
ure of 17 atmospheres. In oxygen, at 3|
atmospheres’ pressure, or in air at 22 at
mospheres, the convulsions were extremely
violent and quickly fatal. The symptoms
in the latter case were these: Convulsions
set in after four or five minutes: in moving
about, the bird hobbles on its feet, as
though walking on hot coals. It then flut
ters its wings, falls on its back, and spins
about, the claws doubled up. Death super
venes after a few such spasms.
The toxic dose of oxygen for a dog was
found to require, for convulsions, a pressure
of 350 in oxygen; and a pressure of 500 is
fatal. The amount of oxygen in the arterial
blood of a dog in convulsions was found to
be considerably less than twice the normal
quantity. Hence the author’s startling con
clusion, that oxygen is the mostfearful poison
known.
Taking a dog in full convulsion out of
the receiver, M. Bert found the paws rigid,
the body bent backward in the shape of an
arch, the eyes protruding, pupil dilated,
jaws clinched. Soon there is relaxation,
followed by another crisis, combining the
symptoms of strychnine-poisoning and of
lockjaw. The convulsionary periods, at
first recurring every five or six minutes, be
come gradually less violent and less fre
quent.
The author sums up his conclusions as
follows : 1. Oxygen behaves like a rapidlyfatal poison, when its amount in the arte
rial blood is about 35 cubic centimetres per
cent, of the liquid; 2. The poisoning is
characterized by convulsions which repre
sent, according to the intensity of the symp
toms, the various types of tetanus, epilepsy,
poisoning by phrenic acid and strychnine,
etc.; 3. These symptoms, which are allayed
by chloroform, are due to an exaggeration
of the excito-motor power of the spinal cord;
4. They are accompanied by a considerable
and constant diminution of the internal tem
perature of the animal.
Poisoning by Oxygen.—M. Paul Bert,
whose observations upon the physiological
effects of high atmospheric pressure we have
already noted in the Monthly, communi
cates to the Paris Academy of Sciences the
Infant Mortality.—During the year 1868,
results of his observations on the toxic ac
tion of oxygen. Placing sparrows in oxygen 23,198 children under one year of age,
under a pressure of 850 (that of the atmos died by convulsions in England, the num
�NOTES.
ber of births being 786,858—one in 34.
In the same year the births in Scotland
were 115,514, and only.312 infants under
one year—one in 370—fell victims to con
vulsions. This striking difference in the
mortality statistics of the two countries is
accounted for in a report of the Scottish
Registrar-General by the difference between
the English and the Scottish modes of rear
ing infants. “ The English,” he writes,
“ are in the habit of stuffing their babies
with spoon-meat almost from birth, while
the Scotch, excepting in cases where the
mother is delicate, or the child is out nurs
ing, w isely give nothing but the mother’s
milk till the child begins to cut its teeth.”
The statistics of infantile deaths from
diarrhoea may also be adduced as an argu
ment in favor of the Scottish system. In
England more than twice as many infants
die of this disorder than in Scotland.
On comparing these statistics with those
of the last United States census, it will be
seen that the chances of life for infants in
their first year are far more favorable in
this country than in England, though not so
favorable as in Scotland. In the year end
ing May 31, 1870, there were born in the
United States 1,100,475 children. Of these
there died, during the same year 4,863 by
convulsions, and 1,534 by diarrhoea, or one
in 236 from the former cause, and one in
724 from the latter. In England the deaths
from diarrhoea amounted to 138 in 100,000
infants, and in Scotland to 66 in the same
number. It will be seen, on computation,
that the proportion of deaths from this
cause are by a very small fraction less in
the United States than in Scotland. But
now are we to attribute these very credita
ble results to our more rational system of
rearing children, or to the better social con
dition of the population here ?
783
He has the testimony of fifty-six witnesses
who saw the young enter the parent’s
mouth. Of these fifty-six, nineteen testify
that they heard the parent snake warning
her young of danger by a loud whistle.
Two of the witnesses waited to see the young
emerge again from their refuge, after the
danger was past; and one of them went
again and again to the snake’s haunt, ob
serving the same act on several successive
days. Four saw the young rush out when
the parent was struck ; eighteen saw the
young shaken out by dogs, or escaping from
the mouth of their dead parent. These tes
timonies are confirmed by the observations
of scientific men, such as Prof. Smith, of
Yale College, Dr. Palmer, of the Smithsonian
Institution, and others.
NOTES.
The year 1759, which witnessed the
completion of the Eddystone Lighthouse,
closed with tremendous storms, and the
courage of the light-keepers was tested to
the utmost. A biography of John Smeaton,
the builder of the Eddystone, states that
for twelve days the sea ran over them so
much that they could not open the door of
the lantern, or any other door. “The
house did shake,” said one of the keepers,
“ as if we had been up a great tree. The
old men were frightened out of their lives,
wishing they had never seen the place.
The fear seized them in the back, but rub
bing them with oil of turpentine gave them
relief!”
Sir Charles Lyell, in his “ Geology,”
speaking of Madagascar, says that, with two
or three small islands in its immediate vicin
ity, it forms a zoological sub-province, in
which all the species except one, and nearly
all the genera, are peculiar. He singles out
for special remark the lemurs of Madagas
car, comprising seven genera, only one of
which has any representatives on the nearest
main-land of Africa. Hitherto no fossil re
mains of these Madagascar species have
Snakes swallowing their Young.—The been known to exist, but M. Delfortrie, of
question, “ Do snakes swallow their young ?” the French Academy of Sciences, announces
that he has found, in the phosphorite of
that is, give them shelter in the maternal the department of Lot, an almost complete
stomach when danger threatens, was dis skull of an individual belonging to this lecussed in a paper presented to the Ameri murine family.
can Association by G. Brown Goode. The
Of the 35,170,294 passengers carried
author some time since asked, through the over the railroads of Pennsylvania last year,
public press, for testimony bearing on this only thirty-three were killed, less than one
subject, and he now comes forward with in a million. But the English lines make a
far more favorable showing, the number
what appears to be perfectly satisfactory killed in the year 1871 being only twelve—■
evidence in favor of the affirmative side. or one in 31,000,000.
�784
THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.
In the “ History of the Fishes of the Brit
ish Islands,” Giraldus Cambrensis, a writer
of the twelfth century, is quoted for the•
observation that in the Lyn y Cwn, or Pool1
of Dogs, in Wales, the trout, the perch, andI
the eel, were deficient of the left eye. A
recent work on “ Trout and Salmon Fishing;
in Wales,” strangely enough, confirms in
part this observation, asserting that one-•
eyed trout are still caught in the same
waters.
Professor Smee recently, at the Berlin
Chemical Society, proposed a method for
detecting organic matters contained in the
air, and for effecting at the same time a
kind of distillation by cold. A glass fun
nel, closed at its narrow end, is held sus
pended in the air and filled with ice. The
moisture of the air is condensed, in contact
with the exterior surface; it trickles to the
bottom of the apparatus, and falls into a
small basin placed for its reception. The
liquid obtained in a given time is weighed.
It generally contains ammonia, which is de
termined by known methods. Distillation
by cold may be employed for separating
volatile substances which might be injured
by heat. Thus, if flowers are placed under
a large bell-glass along with the refrigerat
ing funnel, a liquid is obtained in the basin
saturated with the odorous principles of
the flowers.
At various points on the river Thames,
between Woolwich and Erith, there are
visible at low water the remains of a sub
merged forest, over which the river now
flows. This fact, taken in connection with
other local phenomena, has led geologists
to conclude that the present outlet of the
Thames to the North Sea is of quite recent
origin, the waters having formerly passed
southward into the Weald by channels
which still remain. Excavations in the
marshes expose to view a deep stratum of
twigs, leaves, seed-vessels, and stools of
trees, chiefly of the yew, alder, and oak
kinds.
A traveller in Zanzibar describes the
red and black ants as one of the greatest
scourges with which Eastern Africa is af
flicted. These insects, he says, move along
the roads in masses so dense that beasts of
burden refuse to step among them. If the
traveller should fail to see them coming, in
time to make his escape, he soon finds them
swarming about his person. Sometimes,
too, they ascend the trees and drop upon
the wayfarer. The natives call them madinodo, that is, boiling water, to signify the
scalding sensation produced by their bite.
These ants are of great size, and burrow so
deep into the flesh that it is not easy to
pick them out. In certain forests they are
said to exist in such numbers as to be able
to destroy rats and lizards.
An eccentric and methodical man is Dr.
Rudolf, Danish governor of Upernavik,
Greenland. Dr. Rudolf is a scientist of some
distinction, and has contributed his share
to the scientific literature of his own coun
try, yet it is his choice to live in a region
where darkness prevails four months in the
year, and where he can have no communication with civilized life beyond the annual
visit from the government storeship, and the
casual arrival of whalers. By the storeship
the governor receives annually a file of
Danish newspapers; but instead of glan
cing through them hastily, he takes a fresh
journal every morning, reading the Dagblad
of Jan. 1, 1872, on Jan. 1, 1873. He thus
follows, day for day, the changes in the mind
of Denmark: is glad in the order in which
Copenhagen is glad, and vice versa, but al
ways precisely twelve months after the event.
If the white of an egg be immersed for
some 12 hours in cold water, it undergoes a
chemico-molecular change, becoming solid
and insoluble. The hitherto transparent
albumen assumes an opaque and snow-white
appearance, far surpassing that of the ordi
nary egg. Dr. John Goodman, writing in
the Chemical News, recommends this mate
rial for diet in cases where a patient’s blood
lacks fibrine. The substance being light and
easily digested, it is not rejected even by a
feeble stomach; and as it creates a feeling
of want rather than of repletion, it pro
motes, rather than decreases, the appetite
for food. After the fibrine has been pro
duced in the manner described above, it
must be submitted to the action of a boil
ing heat, and is then ready for use.
One of the great dangers attending the
use of the various sedatives employed in
the nursery is that they tend to produce
the opium-habit. These quack medicines
owe their soothing and quieting effects to
the action of opium, and the infant is by
them given a morbid appetite for narcotic
stimulants. The offering for sale of such
nostrums should be prohibited, as tending
to the physical and moral deterioration of
the race. In India mothers give to their
infants sugar-pills containing opium, and
the result is a languid, sensual race of hope
less debauchees. In the United States the
poisonous dose is administered under an
other name ; but the consequences will prob
ably be the same.
During last autumn, says the Journal of
ithe Society of Arts, there were no less than
1
seventeen companies engaged in extracting
j
gold from the auriferous sand of Finland.
'The alluvial deposits at Toalo are said to be
<extremely rich in gold, the total production
1last season being estimated at about $50,000.
<One of the companies returned a dividend
<of 70 per cent The largest nugget weighed
t40 grammes.
�
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A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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The Popular Science Monthly, Vol. 3, October 1873
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Place of publication: [Harlan, Iowa]
Collation: [657]-784 p. : ill. ; 24 cm.
Notes: From the library of Dr Moncure Conway. Complete issue. Contents: Silk-worms and sericulture / A. de Quatrefages -- Mental science and sociology / Herbert Spencer -- A national university / Charles Eliot -- Agassiz and Darwinism / John Fiske -- The primary concepts of modern physical science / J.B. Stallo -- Finding the way at sea / R.A. Proctor -- Secular prophecy [from Saturday Review] -- Sympathetic vibrations in machinery / Prof. J. Lovering -- Speculation in science / Prof. J. Lawrence Smith -- The glaciers and their investigation / Prof. John Tyndall -- The Moon / Richard A. Proctor. The Popular Science is an American bi-monthly magazine carrying popular science content, which refers to articles for the general reader on science and technology subjects; edited by Joe Brown.
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1873
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Text
CT US'
THE PENTATEUCH
IN CONTRAST WITH
THE SCIENCE AND MORAL SENSE
OF OUR AGE.
_ By
A PHYSICIAN.
“ Zufallige Geschichtswahrheiten konnen der Beweis von. nothwendigen
Vemunftswahrheiten nie werden—Contingent historical truths can never be
demonstration of necessary rational truths.”—Lessing.
PUBLISHED
BY THOMAS SCOTT,
No. 11 The Terrace, Farquhar Road, Upper Norwood,
London, S.E.
1873.
Price One Shilling and Sixpence.
�And are they in the right who, free from doubt,
Can sit in sweet abstraction from each thought
Of Earth, pondering the lives of those who fought
The battles of Jehovah ; viewing the rout
That Israel spread as God’s own act, the shout
Upraised for victory, glorious most when fraught
With deepest ruin to the foe, as taught
By the Qreator! ’T may not be! Without
The special faith that suffers me to view
In one among the multitude of creeds,
Each by its advocates alone held true,
The truth, or other than the pregnant seeds
Of discord among men, I take my flight
From blood-stained legends, Nature, to thy Light!
�THE PENTATEUCH—THORA, ‘
THE LAW.
GENESIS.
TN the beginning,” it is said, “ God created the
JL heaven and the earth.” What are we to
understand by a “ beginning ” ?
The epoch in eternity, doubtless, which the writer
of this part of the Hebrew Scriptures imagined to have
dawned when God created or fashioned, or set about
creating or fashioning, heaven and the earth, first or
oldest of things in his belief.
Is this belief borne out by what natural philoso
phers conclude as to the constitution of heaven and
the earth ?
Heaven, to the modern philosopher, is no firma
ment or solid sphere stretched above and subordi
nate in some sort to the earth, as it was to the
Hebrews, but is infinite space, only to be conceived of
as co-eternal with, and an element in the nature of,
Deity; whilst the earth is but a middle-aged member
of one of the great astral systems that stud The
Boundless, and a much more recent production, in its
compact form, than the whole of the planetary bodies
that circle round the sun in orbits outside its own.
Creation, to the modern philosopher,_ is therefore
something different from the creation, evoking, or
fashioning out of nothing of the Hebrew writer.
B
�2
The Pentateuch.
It is impossible to conceive something coming out
of nothing. But God was, and with and of God were
the elements, which, in conformity with the laws of
force and matter, also inherent in the nature of God,
took form and fashion as suns, planets, satellites, and
comets amid infinite space and in time.
Creation, as now apprehended, implies evolution—
evolution from what ?
As regards the particular aggregations in space,
whereof the solar system is one, and the earth we
dwell on among the least of its members, from a
mass of nebulous matter, extending, in the first
instance, far beyond the limits of the, outermost of
the planetary bodies which, with their satellites, now
circle round the sun.
Vast intervals of time must be presumed to have
elapsed between the epochs when the first, or outer
most, and the last, or innermost, of the planets that
attend the sun took form and fashion ?
Such is the conclusion of modern philosophers;
the planets outside the earth’s orbit being regarded
as the older, those within it as the younger members
of the family, the great sun itself being the youngest
or latest formed of all?
“The earth,” it is said, “ was without form and
' void.”
The earth, in conformity with the laws of attrac
tion, repulsion, and cohesion inherent in matter, could
never have been without form, and could not have
been void, if by void emptiness be understood. From
the moment of its acquiring, and even before it had
a The reader is referred to an admirable paper ascribed to
Mr Hennessey, headed “ Recent Astronomy and the Nebular
Hypothesis,” in the Westminster Review, July,1858. In this able
essay the Genesis of the Solar System is treated exhaustively,
though briefly, in conformity with the most advanced views of
natural philosophers.
�Genesis: The Elohist.
3
acquired, consistency it was a globe, revolving on an
axis, flattened at the poles, bulging at the equator,
and made up, in the several stages of its evolution) of
gaseous, vaporous, liquid, and solid matters, as it is
at the present hour, though these matters must all
have existed in states far different at first from, those
in which they now present themselves.
“ And darkness was upon the face of the deep.”
As yet the deep was not; and at no time, probably,
did absolute darkness prevail in the universe. Any
light that reached the earth, however, could not have
been of the bright kind that is shed from the sun as
it now exists. There must have been light, never
theless, as well from the nebulous matter which had
become compact in the older planets and in the earth,
and was still undergoing compaction into the younger
planets within the earth’s orbit and into the sun
itself, —not to speak of the nebulous and stellar masses
plunged in the depths of space, that were either in
process of condensation, and so eliciting a feebler
light, or that had already acquired the density which
fitted them as fixed stars or suns to shine more
brightly.
“Bright effluence of bright essence increate,”
light was a principle in the nature of God, and must
have existed from eternity :
“ Before the sun,
Before the heavens thou wert, and at the voice
Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest
The rising world of waters dark and deep,”
sings one of the great heroic poets, inspired by the
diviner mind he had through his more perfect organi
zation.
“ And the Spirit of God moved on the face of the
waters.”
�4
The Pentateuch.
The spirit or breath of God (ruacli Elohim) was in
the waters and moved in rhythmic harmony with
them as with all things else. It was not only on or
outside of the waters and other things, but within and
of them, even as the manifestation we call life is within
and of the organisms, vegetable and animal, wherein
and whereby it is made known to us.
“ And God said, Let there be light, and light was.”
Not called into being, however, as but just said, at
some particular moment of time, not distinct from
the Godhead :
“ [But] of the Eternal, co-eternal beam,
......................... since God is Light,
And never but in unapproached light
Dwelt from Eternity, dwelt then in thee,”
sings in lofty rhyme our own inspired Bard.
“ And God divided the light from the darkness, and
he called the light day, and the darkness he called
night.”
The writer speaks of darkness—a purely negative
state or condition,—as if it were a positive something.
But darkness is a mere consequence of the absence
of light; and it is obvious that he could not have
known by what name God called either the light or
the dark: God ordained the light and the dark, but
he left man to give them names.
“ Let there be a firmament in the midst of the
waters ; and let it divide the waters from the waters.”
The writer fancied that the over-arching canopy of
the sky was a transparent solid, in which the sun,
moon, and stars were set, somewhat perhaps after the
manner of the precious stones in the breast-plate of
the high priest; and that as there was an ocean below
or on the earth, so must there be an ocean above or
in heaven, from which at times—on certain sluices,
presumably, being opened—rain fell to moisten the
ground and fit it lor the growth of plants.
�Genesis.• The Elohist.
5
“ Let the waters on the earth be gathered together
into one place, and let the dry land appear.”
Geological facts and reasonable inferences from
them lead to the conclusion that the earth, on its
emergence from the nebulous or gaseous state in
which it first existed, appeared as an incandescent
fluid, and next as a semi-solid ball, when all that was
still vapourable in its constitution surrounded the
glowing mass as a heterogeneous atmosphere, some
thing, in all probability, like that which we now believe
to constitute the photosphere of the sun. Heat, how
ever, passing off into space, precipitation first of the
more and then of the less refractory substances took
place, and a crust of some consistency was formed.
This, shrinking on the still melted mass within, caused
it to burst through in lines and at particular points,
whereby mountains and mountain-chains were formed,
and the surface was made uneven. The temperature
continuing to fall lower and lower, the aqueous vapour
of the atmosphere was finally in great measure pre
cipitated and condensed into water, which, running
down the slopes, gathered itself into the hollows and
there formed rivers, lakes, and seas, with more or less
of dry land between ; irregularities of surface, doubt
less, exerting a paramount influence on the future dis
tribution of land and water. For with shrinkings or
subsidences here, and upheavals there, in combination
with the tremendous rainfalls that must have occurred
in the earlier geological epochs of the earth’s history,
whole continents with mountain-chains for their back
bones, were disintegrated and swept away, whilst
mighty oceans congregated here, were dissipated in
vapour and dried up there; that being made over
and over again the wet which had been the dry, and
that the dry which had been the wet.
The rainfalls in these early geological epochs we
cannot but presume must, indeed, have been tremen
dous ?
�6
The Pentateuch.
If we only consider that the whole of the water now
stored in the oceans that cover so large a portion of
the earth’s surface was once suspended first as gas
or viewless vapour and then as steam in the atmo
sphere, we may form some idea of their extent and
influence in fashioning the crust of the earth as it
now appears. The mass of the stratified rocks which
compose the proper crust of the globe is index enough
of the extent of the continents that must have been
disintegrated and ground down to supply the vast
amount of material of which they consist, and of the
combined powers of the rain and rivers that strewed
this material at the bottom of the shoreless oceans
where the strata took shape, as well as of the
degree of heat still present in the central mass
that fused or welded them into the solids they now
present.
• Disintegration of the first consolidated body of the
earth did not, however, presumably supply the whole
of the materials that now enter into the constitution
of its stratified crust ?
By no means; from all we know it seems reason
able to suppose that some very considerable propor
tion of these was furnished by the matters still sus
pended in the vaporous state amid the fiery atmosphere
that must long have surrounded the incandescent body
of the globe. It was not the water only of our pre
sent oceans, lakes, and rivers, the oxygen of our
earthy and metallic oxydes, the carbonic acid of our
mineral carbonates and coal measures that existed in
the first instance as gas or vapour about the glowing
globe; the salts, the metals, and the mineral substances
most useful to man, and most prized by him, must
probably all have been there originally in the form of
elements, and only acquired their distinctive states and
qualities when the temperature had fallen low enough
to allow the law of the elective affinities to come into
play. (See Appendix A.)
�Genesis: The Elohist.
7
“ And God called the dry land earth, and the waters
called he seas.”
It is the Hebrew poet himself who calls the dry
land Arets, and the gathered waters Imim—words
which we translate Earth and Seas. Had God called
these aggregates of solid and liquid matter by any
names—and we venture to think that he never did,
otherwise than through the mouths of men,—the
writer of the sentence quoted could very certainly no
more have known what they were than he could have
known by what names day and night were called.
° Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding
seed and the tree yielding fruit.”
The waters which at several epochs and for such
lengthened periods covered the whole or a vast pro
portion of the globe, were undoubtedly the source,
seed-bed, and nursery of the vegetable tribes which
at length, and after the lapse of countless aeons, gained
a footing on the land, and from the lowly forms of
sexless flags, lichens, mosses, ferns, horse-tails, &c.,
finally acquired sexuality, and showed themselves as
the palm and pine, the fig, orange, olive, vine and
host of other seed and fruit-bearing herbs and trees
that prepared the way for the advent of the higher
organisms, the conscious living creatures which made
their appearance on the earth at last.
_ i‘ Let there be lights in the firmament of heaven to
divide the day from the night, to be for signs and for
seasons, for days and for years, and to give light upon
the earth.”
In our modern geological cosmogony we feel
assured that a long interval elapsed between the forma
tion of the moon and the definite formation of the sun
as he now exists—if indeed the formation of the sun
can yet be said, with any propriety, to be definite or
complete. The. moon, we conclude, circled round
the earth in a period other than that she now observes,
and shed a paler light than she does at present upon
�8
'The Pentateuch.
its unpeopled surface, whilst the sun yet showed a disc
less fiery than that he now presents, but of millions
instead of hundreds of thousands of miles in diameter.
The formation of the sun and moon, however, was
simultaneous, according to the Hebrew poet, and had
reference solely to the convenience of man. But the
moon is some hundreds of thousands of years younger
than the earth, and by aeons older than the sun ; and
though man finds his advantage in the light and
other attributes of these great bodies, they certainly
took shape and had motions and qualities irrespec
tively of him, but in harmony with the laws which
inhere in matter and bring about phenomena. The
phases of the moon give man the week, and her period
about the earth the month, as the course of the earth
about the sun—of the sun about the earth in the
olden belief—gives him the seasons and the year.
“ Let the waters bring forth the moving creature
that hath life, , and fowl that may fly above the
earth.”
The waters were doubtless the womb in which the
germs took shape that finally and in virtue of inherent
powers eventuated not only in senseless vegetable
forms, but in those gelatinous atoms with implanted
sensibilities and aptitudes which by evolutionary
efforts turned at length into radiates, molluscs, arti
culates, insects, fishes, amphibians, mammalians, and
man. The absolutely dry is the absolutely barren;
the moist is the source of life ; hence the rise, in the
heathen mythology, of Aphrodite, emblem of the
generative power, from the sea.
“ Let the earth bring forth the living creature after
his kind, cattle and creeping thing, and beast of the
earth.” ■
The Hebrew poet thought that the tenants of the
dry land must have had their origin thereon, as he
believed the tenants of the waters had theirs therein.
Regarding the whale as a fish, he referred his birth to
�Genesis: 'The Elohist.
9
the wr ters—and truly, in one respect, for his forma
tion fhs him for life in these alone ; but the whale
and his congeners the porpoises are not fishes anymore
than their allied kinds the walruses, dugongs and
seals ; for they all have warm blood, breathe by means
of lungs, bring forth living young and suckle them
precisely as do the mammalians that live on the land.
“And God said : Let us make men in our image,
after our likeness. And God created man in his
image, in the image of God created he him ; male and
female created he them.” (Eng. Vers, and De Wette.)
Man, the Hebrew poet necessarily saw as the crown
and consummation of the creative energy. But we
may be permitted to regret that he should have ima
gined and should have said that man was made in the
image of God ; for God as all-pervading Spirit or
Force, Essence or Cause, is without parts or propor
tions, and so is without figure—a truth subsequently
acknowledged in more than one part of the Hebrew
Scriptures by other writers. God fills the universe,
and is necessarily impersonal and unimaginable in any
shape. It is the converse of the writer’s statement
that is true : it is man who has fashioned God like
himself. In harmony with the law of sexual dis
tinction in all the higher classes of animals, man on
his appearance on Earth is here fitly presented as
cognate male and female, from the first.
And God gave the herb bearing seed, and the tree
bearing fruit for meat, to the conscious creatures
evolved, we venture to assume, in virtue of aptitudes
inherent in certain of the inorganic natural elements,
prime instruments of God, and possessed of powers
which finally formed flesh and blood and nerve
and brain, with the wonderful appanages of feeling,
the moral sense, the religious sense, understanding
and reason ; faculties by which man comes at length
to conceive a Supreme Being to whom reverence
and obedience are due, to arrogate rights for him
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The Pentateuch.
self, and to own obligations to his fellow-men. It
is to be regretted that the Hebrew writer should not
have noted that God had also given the flesh of
animals as well as vegetables for food to man and
other creatures,—flesh to be supplied by the sacrifice
of the weaker by the stronger and more highly
organised among animals, man, as the most highly
organised and most intelligent of any, sacrificing
every other living thing that is fit for food to satisfy
his appetite, and only attaining to the highest per
fection of his powers where he diets on a mixture of
vegetable and animal substances.
“ Thus were finished the Heavens and the Earth
and all the host of them.”
The writer gives his Elohim—God or Gods—much
less time in which to complete the marvellous work
than from its constitution and self-revealed history
we now feel assured was necessarily employed.' He
had Eternity to draw on ; but he has not used his
privilege beyond the scanty measure of a few days.
Any term, however, of any conceivable length he
could have fixed on, would still have fallen short of
that which God may have used in fashioning the vast
assemblage of systems of which the Earth, in so far
as mass is concerned, is so insignificant a part.
“And God rested the seventh day from all the
work which he had made.”
The writer here obviously fancies Elohim like him
self. Weary with six days’ work, he gladly rests on
the seventh day, and so fancies that God must have
done so too. But God never rests • for God is not to
be thought of as prime or inceptive Cause only, but
as persistent, ever-active Cause of all that is and of all
that comes to pass. Were God to rest for an instant
of time, the fair fabric of harmonious nature would be
the Chaos out of which the Hebrew writer presumed
it to have arisen.
Thus far we have a connected account of the
�Genesis: The Elohist.
TI
creation of heaven and the earth and its inhabitants—
what is to be thought of the tale ? .
As of a simple, beautiful poem, the work of a man
of thoughtful and imaginative mind, having the
culture of the age in which he lived, and writing the
language of his country in the highest state of purity
to which it ever attained; a writer, therefore, of rela
tively recent times in the history of the Jewish people
—one, moreover, who drew little or nothing from
either oral or written tradition or legend, but gave
shape in words to the ideas and fancies that spring
up in minds of thoughtful and poetic mould. The
account of Creation, as contained in the first chapter
of Genesis, must be the work of a writer who lived
during or immediately after the reign of Solomon,
before the Hebrew tongue had begun to decline from
its purity and become mixed with Aramaic words—
one of the Isaiahs or Lyrists who penned the finest of
the Psalms, the glory of the Hebrew literature, and
that cannot be said to have their like in the letters of
any other people.
The narrative of the first chapter of Genesis is not,
however, the only account we have in the Hebrew
Scriptures of the early history of the world, and more
especially of the circumstances under which man
began his career on earth ?
There is a second account, commencing with the
fourth veyse of the second chapter of the Book of
Genesis, which differs notably from the first, and
begins abruptly in these words : “ These are the
generations of the heavens and of the earth when
they were created.”
It might almost be presumed that there was some
thing wanting here ?
So much of the document, seemingly, as gave the
generations referred to. The verse, however, has every
appearance of an interpolation, intended to connect
the narrative that is to follow with that which has
�I2
The Pentateuch.
gone before. But so little affinity have the two
acconnts, in fact, that a new hand is at once sus
pected by the critical reader, who soon finds his sus
picion turned into certainty by the diversity of treat
ment he observes and the different name by which he
finds the Deity now designated, the title in the first
account being always Elohim—translated God in the
English version, and in the second Jahveh or JahvehElohim—translated Lord and Lord-God with us.
Nor is this all. A multitude of minor differences
in the style and kind of information given, meet the
critica 1 eye, which proclaim not two but four writers,
who must have lived at times remote from one
another, and had access to legendary and documen
tary matter that did not always agree in its terms.
The first account we have, however, is characterised
by biblical scholars and critics as being from the pen
of one of the Hebrew writers called Eloliists, the
second from that of one or more of those entitled
Jehovists, all of them apparently belonging to the
priestly caste, but deriving their information from
different and often discrepant sources.
What is the first particular we have from the new
writer—the Jehovist—in his account of th^ early
world ?
Passing by all the particulars connected with the
formation of the heavens and the earth as we have
them from the Elohist, he begins by informing us that
Jahveh-Elohim, the Lord-God, besides the heavens
and the earth, had also created “ every plant of the
field before it was in the earth, and every herb before
it grew.” He appears to have imagined that trees
and herbs were made by God much in the way that
artificial flowers are made in the present day, and
then planted in the ground, as he himself was wont
to see husbandmen at work planting pot-herbs round
Jerusalem.
What reason is assigned for God’s procedure in
�Genesis: The Jehovist.
13
thus making herbs and trees, instead of evoking them
from the ground like the Elohist ?
It is because “ the Lord-God had not yet caused it
to rain on the earth, and there was not a man to till
the ground.”
The writer of these words could not, it is obvious,
have known of the Elohist’s account of Creation, in
which there was not only water enough and conse
quently rain, but herbs and trees growing and yield
ing their seed and fruit, and both man and woman to
tend the plants and till the ground, supposing that to
have been needful to the growth of vegetables in a
state of nature, which it is not. The vast and vigorous
growths that gave rise to the carboniferous strata of
the earth all took place myriads of years before there
was a man to till the ground, though there must have
been rain enough and to spare, and carbonic acid in
the air in such excess as was probably incompatible
with the existence of any but the lower forms of ani
mal life,—certain it is that none of the higher forms
had as yet made their appearance when the mighty
morasses spread and the forests grew that now lie
buried in our coal measures.
Have we not evidence in geological records of rain
having fallen on the earth not only before the appear
ance of man on its face, but even before that of any
of the higher forms of animal life ?
Yes, ample; on sand-stone slabs deposited during
the tertiary period of the earth’s existence we not
only find pit-marks like those made on sand and mud
by falling showers at the present day, but even learn
the quarter whence the wind blew when the showers
fell! More than this, we find the foot-prints of a
frog or toad-like creature with a heavy tail, indicated
by the trail or smoothed line obliterating the rain-pits
in the wake of the footsteps I Yet more, and in
strata much older than those to which the sand-stone
slabs belong that preserve these interesting records,
�14
The Pentateuch.
we find abundance not only of vegetable, but of ani
mal remains. So that we are enabled positively to
say that plants grew, that animals lived on them, and
on one another too, and that rain fell hundreds of
thousands—it may be millions of years before there
was a man to till the ground.
The Lord-God—Jahveh-Elohim—we are then in
formed, caused a mist to go up from the earth to
water it, and make the plants he had fashioned to
grow; further, that he made man of the dust of the
ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of
life and he became a living creature (not soul, as in
the English translation, the word soul leading to
metaphysical conclusions not contemplated in the
text) ; finally, that he planted a garden in Eden, and
therein put the man whom he had made.
This is according to the text; but the physics of
the writer are at fault, for if the earth had the water
necessary to supply the mist which was to fall in
rain, it had already the moisture needful to make
plants grow. And then he makes his deity fashion
the man as a statuary fashions his statue, and only
put life into him at last by breathing into his nostrils;
he knew nothing of the law of evolution which the
science of our modern world discovers in nature’s
acts, which we are still to look on as the acts of God
in his quality of Cause, and so of Creator.
The garden in Eden is carefully planted ?
With every tree that is pleasant to the sight and
good for food ; the tree of life in the midst of the gar
den, and.the tree of knowledge of good and evil; per
mission being given to the man freely to eat of the fruit
of every tree in the garden save and except of that of
the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Of this tree
he is not to eat; for in the day he does he is told that
he shall surely die.
What is the next step in the proceedings of JahvehElohim, according to the writer ?
�Genesis: 'The 'Jeho'uist.
15
He is made to say, as if it were a discovery or
afterthought, that it is not good for the man to be
alone, and that he would therefore make a help-meet
for him. Before proceeding with this kindly purpose,
however, the writer makes Jahveh-Elohim turn off
to form the beasts of the field and the fowls of the
air, which he brings to the man, who is now named
Adam, “ to see what he would call them, and whatso
ever Adam called every living creature, that was the
name thereof.”
Adam’s nomenclature has not reached us ?
It has not, though it might as well have been pre
served as many of the particulars given by the writer.
It was probably simpler if less copious than that of his
successors, the modern naturalists. Still, “ for Adam,”
it is now said, and despairingly as it were, “ there
was not found an help-meet for him.”
Jahveh-Elohim is made by the writer to proceed in
a very roundabout way to supply the deficiency ?
He causes a deep sleep to fall upon Adam, from
whose side a rib is taken, out of which a woman is
, made and brought to the man, who styles her Isha,
feminine of Ish, man.
This seems a poor conceit in face of the omnipotence
of God and is in palpable contradiction with the state
ment in the Elohistic account of Creation, according
to which and in harmony with the great law of sexual
distinction, God is said to have made man male and
female from the first. May we not, therefore, with
out irreverence, say that if the Elohist’s account be
correct, that of the Jehovist cannot be true ?
Surely it is a puerile contrivance as prelude and
pretext for what the man is immediately made to say :
—“ This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my
flesh; she shall be called woman, because she was
taken out of man.” But God took no rib from the
side of man to form his counterpart, woman : “ Man
like, but different sex,” Isha needed not to be taken
�16
The Pentateuch.
in this childish and inconceivable way from the side
of Ish to be of one flesh with him ; she was so by
God’s fiat when simultaneously with him she came
into, being, and long before he and she together had
attained to the higher state of conscious life, worthy
of their noble collective Aryan designation Man,
from the reason (manu skr.) wherewith they were
endowed.
Adam is charmed with his helpmate ?
Of course he is:—
“ So lovely fair was she,
That what seemed fair in all the world seemed now
Mean, or in her summed up, in hei- contained,
And in her looks. * *
Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye,
In every gesture dignity and love,”
according to the version of our own great king of
song.
The man and the woman do not, however, accord
ing to the narrative, long enjoy the happy state of
innocence and bliss in which they were placed at
first ?
The serpent, says the story, was more subtil than
any beast of the field, and said to the woman : “Yea,
hath God said ye shall not eat of every tree of the
garden F ”
And the woman ?
Said to the serpent: “We may eat of the fruit of
the trees of the garden; but of the fruit of the tree
which is in the midst of the garden God hath said :
Ye shall not eat of it, neither shall ye touch it lest ye
die.”
The serpent answers ?
“Ye shall not surely die; for God doth know that
in the day ye eat thereof your eyes shall be opened,
and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil.”
The serpent shows himself a subtil beast indeed,
�17
Genesis: The Jehovist.
apt in using as in understanding human speech, and
excelling in persuasive power! The Elohist, in his
account, gave man the dominion over the beasts of
the field and the fowls of the air; but the Jehovist
reverses' the picture and makes man dominated by
the reptile that creeps upon his belly, and, in popular
belief, lives upon dust!
The woman yields to the suggestion of the insidi
ously friendly and familiar serpent ?
She sees that the tree is good for food, pleasant to
the eye, a tree to be desired to make one wise ; and
so she takes of the fruit and eats, and gives to her
husband also, and he eats.
With the result ?
(
That the eyes of both are opened—not, however, in
any intellectual and. moral sense, as might have been
presumed, but in a sense purely physical, for they
only now discover, it is said, that they are naked,
and to hide their nakedness that they sew fig-leaves
together to make them aprons—-scanty covering
enough, but which Jahveh-Elohim, according to the
writer, improves on subsequently by making them
“coats of skins.” The fig-leaves were at hand ; but
it has been made a question as to whence came the
skins, and as to who it was who slew and flayed the
animals that bore them, and shaped and sewed
together the garments ! And thus do men land
themselves among the absurdities that crop up when
they are guilty of the folly of anthropomorphosing
the Infinite Supreme ; and of giving a literal meaning
to Eastern tales, the product of early and ignorant
ages of the world !
The discovery of their nakedness was but a slight
initiation for the man and woman into the knowledge
of good and evil that was to follow on eating the
forbidden fruit. Having senses, indeed, they needed
not to have partaken of it to learn that they were
naked. But is it in the nature of things, that aught
C
�i8
Phe Pentateuch.
taken into the mouth could have given man first to
know whether he were naked or clothed ?
It is not; knowledge of the kind comes through
the senses of sight and feeling, not of taste, and where
these senses exist such knowledge is already pos
sessed.
Or that fruit of any kind eaten should teach man
kind the difference between good and evil ?
In so far as sweet, sour, bitter, and other savours
are concerned, and as wholesome or unwholesome
qualities are good and evil—Yes ; but as regards the
moral good and evil implied though not expressed
—No. God has connected the knowledge of what is
good and evil from a moral point of view with certain
parts of the brain, the functions of which are facul
ties of the mind, and it is by means of these that man
knows and makes distinction between moral good and
evil; even as it is by the nerves of the tongue that he
distinguishes between sweet, sour, and bitter, the
sapid and insipid, &c., by those of touch and sight
that he knows the difference between the rough and
the smooth, the nude and the clothed, &c., and by
those of the stomach and body at large that he is
made aware of what is wholesome or deleterious.
The discovery of their nakedness by the man and
the woman is sometimes interpreted otherwise than
literally ?
But as it seems by a somewhat forced construction;
the effect of eating the forbidden fruit being said to
have been to engender concupiscence, carnal' desire,—
as if that had been a sin ! But God had created man
male and female, and put desire for one another into
their minds ; blessed them, too ; said to them, Increase,
multiply, and replenish the earth, and furnished them
forth for the work. Neither, if we may trust our own
Poet of Paradise, was Eve
“ Uninformed
Of nuptial sanctity and marriage rites;
�Genesis : The Jehovist.
19
Nature herself wrought so in her that she,
Seeing her husband, turned,
And with obsequious majesty approved
His pleaded reason.”
The feeling that leads man to cover certain parts of
his body in lands where he has no need of clothing,
may be said to be an element in his nature, almost
as much his peculiar heritage as his religious sense,
and must have made itself felt in the very prime of his
emergence from mere brutality into properly human
though still savage life. There seems, therefore, no
occasion to see any recondite meaning as underlying
Adam’s discovery that he was naked. Such know
ledge he certainly never had from eating any even
such fruit as is said to have grown in the garden of
Eden.
What interpretation is commonly put on the
appearance and part played by the serpent ?
That it was the impersonation of Evil, designated
Satan or Devil, who in guise of a serpent was the
spokesman and tempter.
Is there any warrant in the text for such an
assumption ?
There is none. The words are explicit: “ The
serpent was more subtil than any beast of the field.”
Is there anything else against the vulgar interpre
tation ?
Yes; the dualism implied in the recognition of a
Principle of Evil apart or distinct from a Principle of
Good—a recognition entirely foreign to the concep
tion of Deity and the religious system of the Jewish
people. If we constantly meet in the sacred writings
of the Jews with Deity in the two aspects of Good
and Evil, their God, whether called El or Jahveh, is
still one only. Though no more than the greatest
among the Gods, he is ever to them the Supreme,
Lord of the Dark as of the Light, source himself of the
�20
The Pentateuch.
Evil as of the Good thatbefals. “ Shall there be evil
4n a city and I have not done it, sayeth Jehovah.”
Amos iii. 6. “ I form the light and create darkness ;
I -'make peace and create evil; I the Lord do all
these things.” Isaiah xlv. 7. We say nothing here
of the absurdity of Evil personified and called Satan
or Devil; for that is one of the earliest errors of man
kind, as it still continues among the unworthy super
stitions of the present day.
The prominence given to the Serpent and the Tree
—the whole idea of the garden in Eden, indeed, ap
pears foreign to the Jewish theocratic system ?
Most obviously; and so must the idea have been
derived by the writer from what he or his coun
trymen had learned through intercourse, commercial
or otherwise at some earlier period, through exile in
later times, with the Medes and Persians, in whose
religious system the dualism of Deity is an essential
element; the beneficent principle in nature, typified
by Light, being called Ormuzd, and the adverse
principle, symbolized by the serpent, named Ahriman.
It is not unimportant to observe that nowhere else in
the Hebrew Scriptures save in this early part of the
Book of Genesis do the serpent g,nd Satan appear as
counteracting the benevolent purposes of Jehovah.
On the contrary, the image of the reptile, as in the
instance of the brazen serpent which Moses lifted up
in the Wilderness, is rather assumed as the emblem
of healing :—propitiated by worship and sacrifice the
death-dealing principle in nature stays the pestilence;
and Satan, once admitted into the celestial hierarchy
of the Hebrews, is seen but as one among the other
ministers or agents of Jehovah—tempting and trying
the faith of mankind, it may be, but never appearing
as the adversary of the Supreme (Job passim).
What, according to the narrative, follows on the
discovery of their nakedness by the man and woman ?
Hearing the voice of Jehovah-Elohim “ walking in
�Genesis : 'The 'Jehovist.
21
the garden in the cool of the day I” they hide them
selves among the trees. Jehovah-Elohim, not meet
ing them as usual, it might seem, calls Adam and
says, “ Where art thou ? ”
Adam answers: “ I heard thy voice in the garden
and I was afraid, because I was naked, and I hid
myself.”
Adam does not, therefore, honestly and at once
acknowledge his disobedience of the commandment
he had received, but lays the fear he feels to face the
Lord-God to the score of his nakedness.
So says the record; and Jahveh-Elohim, as if he
needed the information, asks : “ Who told thee that
thou wast naked ? Elast thou eaten of the tree
whereof I commanded thee that thou shouldst not
eat?”
To which Adam, shifting the blame of disobedience
from his own shoulders in a regretable and somewhat
cowardly way, makes answer: “ The woman thou
gavest to be with me gave me of the tree and I did
pof. ”
What next ?
Turning to the woman, Jahveh-Elohim says :
“ What is this that thou hast done ? ” And on her
meek reply, “ The serpent beguiled me, and I did
eat; ” addressing the serpent, he proceeds : “ Because
thou hast done this thou art accursed above all cattle
and above every beast of the field; upon thy belly
shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of
thy life.”
The serpent, as he had shown himself familiar with
human speech, could scarcely be supposed to be igno
rant of that which was divine, and so the writer felt
himself at liberty to make his God inform the serpent
of the penalty he was to pay for his interference.
But is the serpent really cursed above all other
creatures, or does God truly curse any of his handi
works ?
�22
The Pentateuch.
The serpent, like all other creatures, is fitted for
his state in every particular. He never progressed
save upon his belly, and is no more cursed than any
creature else that, in the course of nature, has come
into life. He is even more agile in his movements
than many other animals much higher in the scale of
organisation than himself, glancing through the
herbage and striking his prey or throwing his deadly
coil about it with the rapidity of lightning. Neither
does he eat dust, but lives on animal food like other
carnivorous creatures, which he also has the skill to
secure alive for himself. Far from being cursed, in
deed, the serpent, in many of his kinds, is favoured
with such an instrument of destruction in his poison
fangs as gives him superiority over every other crea
ture, no matter how much larger, stronger, and more
knowing than himself, man, the lord of creation him
self, not excepted.
There is something said about especial enmity put
between the woman and the serpent ?
“ I will put enmity between thee and the woman,
says the story, “ and between thy seed and her seed,
it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise its heel.”
What may be the meaning of this ?
It must be allegorical, like so much else that has
already been commented on; it certainly can have no
such meaning as is usually put on it by theologians.
A reasonable interpretation of the enigmatic words,
however, may be found by a reference to certain an
cient Indian sculptures, where the Sun-God, Krishna,
source of life, is seen with one foot on the head of
the snake, Kaliga, emblem or source of darkness and
death; or to the modern planisphere; where the
kneeling Hercules, one of the Sun-Gods, is repre
sented with uplifted club treading on the head of the
mighty snake that coils about the pole, emblem of
winter and the surcease of life. The reference, there
fore, is probably astrological, and the meaning of the
�Genesis: The Jehovist.
23
myth scarcely doubtful:—The sun, escaping from the
inferior or wintry to the superior or summer signs of
the zodiac at the vernal equinox, triumphs over winter,
and awakens the earth from the sleep of death to
renovated life. Feigned to have died and lain buried
for a season, and mourned over as Osiris, Adonis,
Tammuz, &c., he is hailed anon with acclamations
and rejoicings as newly risen from the dead.
So much for the serpent. What is said to the
woman ?
“ I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy con
ception ; in sorrow shalt thou bring forth children,
and thou shalt be subject to thy husband and he shall
rule over thee.”
And to the man— ?
“ Because thou hast hearkened to the voice of thy
wife, and hast eaten of the tree of which I commanded,
thee, saying, thou shalt not eat of it; cursed is the
ground for thy sake ; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it
all the days of thy life ; thorns also and thistles shall
it bring forth to thee. In the sweat of thy face shalt
thou eat bread till thou return unto the ground; for
out of it wast thou taken—dust thou art, and unto
dust shalt thou return.”
Can we conceive God multiplying sorrow on man
as a penalty for yielding to such an impulse as the
desire to know good from evil; an impulse, more
over, implanted by himself ?
It were surely impious to think of anything of the
kind in connection with the idea of God.
Or of God inflicting pain on woman in particular, as
a penalty for putting forth her hand and tasting of
fruit within easy reach, fair to look on, pleasant to the
taste, enlarging the scope of her mental vision, and
not injurious to her body ?
It is absurd to speak of God as dealing in any
such way with any of his creatures.
What were man, did he not know good from evil ?
�24
The Pentateuch.
He were then no better than the beasts—more
helpless, indeed, than they ; for in their finer senses
of sight, touch, smell, and taste, they discriminate
more nicely than man in many cases between the
good and the bad, in so far as their bodily state is
concerned.
The desire to know is even a primary impulse, one
of the great gifts of God to man ?
It is so, indeed ; and is the one desire which man in
his most advanced state sees it of the highest moment
to cultivate ; source, as it proves to be, of all the plea
sures he has in his higher-intellectual existence ; of so
much, therefore, that gives him his true title to be
looked on as lord of the creation.
But man was threatened with death did he eat of
the forbidden tree : “ In the day thou eatest thereof
thou shall surely die,” says the record. Yet not only
did Adam not suffer bodily death at the time of his
eating, but he may be said to have then awakened to
his higher intellectual and responsible life.
Theologians cannot therefore be warranted in their
assumption that man became obnoxious to death
through disobeying the arbitrary commandment said
to have been given him ?
•
What follows immediately shows that the writer
believed man to have been created mortal from the
first: He is driven out of the garden in Eden lest he
should take also of the tree of life, eat, and so like
the Elohim—the Gods, live for ever. It is not true,
therefore, according to the Hebrew tale itself, that
death was brought into the world through man’s in
fringement of an order not to eat of the tree of the
knowledge of good and evil. Immortality was no
item in the original charter either of man or any
other creature or thing; and it is even impious to
speak of the natural and inevitable surcease of life as
a penalty : a necessity in the nature of things, it can
be no penalty. It has been well and truly said that
�Genesis: The Jehovist.
25
the natural term of man’s life is about three score
and ten years. The few who reach extreme old age,
between four score and four score and ten, mostly
find the length of the way more than wearisome long
before its end ; the load of years grows heavy to be
borne, and there are few who are not well content
to lay down the burthen at last.
Death being regarded as the greatest of evils that
could befall mankind, and as a punishment for diso
bedience, by the Hebrew writer, can he be warranted
in speaking of the pain connected with child-bearing
as imposed on the woman by way of peculiar penalty
for the active part she took in aspiring after other
, knowledge than that which she had through her mere '
senses ?
Pain under any circumstances is first and in the
natural fitness of things an admonition to beware of
influences injurious to the bodily state, and, in the case
of the woman about to become a mother, of the great
. event in her life that is imminent, putting her on her
guard and bidding her make provision for the safety
of herself and the fruit of her womb. And then it
would seem that the effort necessary to bring forth
children cannot, in the nature of things as they are
(and so as they could best be), be dissevered from
more or less of suffering.
Might not the woman, however, have been so framed
by the Mighty Workman as to have brought forth
without suffering ?
No ; if pain be suffered in the process, we may feel
assured that it was inseparable from it. Constituted
as she is, we may be certain that she could have been
advantageously constituted no otherwise than as she
is.. All things are precisely as they could be. The
pain inevitably connected with child-bearing is brief,
the joy of motherhood is for life.
Is the ground truly cursed because of the man’s
participation in the woman’s desire to know and
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The Pentateuch.
become as one of the Gods ; or, like a school-boy, for
having eaten an apple fair to view and on proof made
found savoury and not unwholesome, though forbidden
to put forth his hand by the owner of the garden ?
God curses nothing that by his fiat is or comes to
pass in conformity with his laws. If the ground
bears thorns and thistles it also yields spontaneously
the herbage on which so many creatures live, and on
the flesh of which in turn man and other carnivorous
tribes subsist. It supports the luxuriant vegetation
of the tropics unsolicited, and in the warmer latitudes
yields with little care the cereals, roots and fruits
that minister to man’s most pressing wants; under
less favourable aspects of clime and site, it still grate
fully responds to forethought and ingenuity when
brought to bear upon it:—Anticipating results and
using means to ends in harmony with nature’s laws,
the barren heath under man’s fostering care puts on
a smile, and waving harvests look up to the sun
where scarce a blade of grass had grown, and the
harsh or sapless wilding is turned into the melting
pulp of our summer fruits. To speak of the ground
as cursed of God is to libel the Supreme—if that
indeed were possible. At the price of labour man
has all his most necessary wants supplied by the
kindly ground. One of God’s best gifts to man,
indeed, has been said to be the necessity to work, by
one who was himself among the busiest of workers
whilst he lived, and who has done so much through
the work he did to free the world from superstition
and the base idea that idleness is a boon.
What can be said for the information Adam re
ceives that he is dust and shall to dust return ?
That the body of man is made up in but small
measure of the dust of the ground ; it is in fact much
more the creature of water and the air than of any
kind of earth. And as to the interpretation put on
the text that instead of the eternal life intended for
�Genesis : I’he ‘ ehovist.
J
27
him at first he is henceforth to have a merely tem
porary existence, this is readily disposed of by
acknowledging God’s purposes as they are from
eternity so are they eternal; and man, as he has a de
termined existence in time, to have been from the first
precluded from the possibility of living for ever.
That death came not into the world because of any
transgression by man of a commandment of God is
certain ; for that the earth was peopled by myriads
of animals which lived and died aeons before man
appeared upon the scene is certified to us by the
remains of these we find entombed in such profusion
in the strata that compose the crust of the globe.
The law of evolution, of birth and death, instituted
as it undoubtedly was from the beginning of life on
the earth, may without irreverence be spoken of as
a necessity in the nature of things : were this not so,
the law would not now exist; for neither God nor the
revelation he makes of himself in his laws suffers
essential change.
Would immortality on earth be verily a boon ?
As it is not given, so the divine wisdom proclaims
that it would not. In the Pagan mythology Heracles
penetrates to the garden of the Hesperides, slays the
dragon that guards the tree of life, gathers the fruit,
and brings it forth for the use of man ; but Pallas
Athene meets him on the way and takes the fruit
from his hand, knowing that it were not good for
man to eat of it and gain, like the Gods, immortal life.
Progress were, indeed, impossible did not one genera
tion of men succeed another. Succession is the law,
which, as it now obtains, so did it ever obtain. Kinds,
indeed, only continue to appear so long as the condi
tions necessary to their existence prevail; when these
cease the living things that depend on them—
plants or animals—die out and are seen no more. Time
was when man was not; and the time may come—
will in all likelihood necessarily come—when, with.
�28
The Pentateuch.
change in the cosmical, telluric, atmospheric, and other
conditions wherewith his life is bound up, he, like the
mammoth and megatherium, will have disappeared
from the face of the earth.
Man, however, to return to our text, had disobeyed
the commandment said to have been given by God;
but he was still in the garden in Eden, and could not
be suffered to remain therein ?
The Lord-God, according to the story, is made to
say : “ Behold the man is become as one of us to
know good from evil; and now lest he put forth his
hand and take also of the tree of life and eat and live
for ever ; therefore the Lord-God sent him forth from
the garden of Eden, and placed cherubims and a
flaming sword which turned every way to keep the
tree of life.”
The qualities of things eaten, we have seen, consist
in such as affect the palate and the bodily health—
how, then, conceive a tree bearing fruit possessed of
the power to confer everlasting life ?
How, indeed ! Everlasting life belongs to God and
the manifestation he makes of his Being in the Uni
verse ; to nothing else.
The tale must, therefore, be an allegory—a myth,
an Idea clothed in words, possibly transmitted by
legendary tradition through long ages before it
reached the Hebrew] writer who moulded it into
the indifferent shape in which it meets us now.
Several interpretations have been given of the alle
gory ?
Several; among others one of an astronomical cha
racter. By turning to a celestial globe it will be seen
that as Virgo (Eve) with the ears of corn or fruit
bearing bough in her hand, followed by Arcturus
(Adam) sinks in the West, Perseus (the Cherub
armed with the flaming sword) rises in the East and
seems to drive the woman and the man from the sky.
There are other interpretations, however, on legen
�Genesis: The'Jeho'uist.
29
dary grounds, that better consort perhaps with
Hebrew history than this, which implies a knowledge
of the constellations and of celestial phenomena of
which we find few traces in the Book of Genesis?
The first account of Creation ended as we saw
with God’s resting from his labours and seeing that
all was very good. The second has a less satisfactory
conclusion ■ for here, as we have just seen, we find God
cursing the ground, inflicting pains and penalties for
the transgression of an arbitrary commandment, and
expelling the man and the woman from the garden
of delight he had planted for their happy dwelling
place, thwarted in all his benevolent purposes by the
serpent!
These two accounts differ so essentially that it
seems impossible to conceive them as emanating from
the same individual or delivered through inspiration,
as said, from one source ?
They differ so entirely and deal with such dis
similar elements that they must be held to have
proceeded not only from different individuals of the
same family of mankind, but even to have originated
among different races of men. The first or Elohistic
account may be spoken of as purely Semitic; the
second as essentially Aryan in its character. The
Elohistic narrative in its rhythmical and balanced
proportions is obviously the product of a single
mind, creating in conformity with the rules of
Hebrew poetical composition:—it is a connected
history of Creation by a Poet. The Jehovistic
account cannot be seen from the same point of view.
It has every character of a compilation from tradition
and legend, and assimilates in many leading par
ticulars with the myths and beliefs of the western
branch of the great Aryan family of mankind which
find expression in its Sacred Scriptures, the Zendb See Dr Kalisch’s learned Commentary on Genesis.
�30
The Pentateuch.
Avesta, as the views of the Eastern branch of the
same race are comprised in the Vedas. The Elohistic
account might have originated among any of the
ancient peoples somewhat advancedin civilisation and
possessed of the leisure needful for speculation and
literary labour. The Jehovistic account, on thecontrary,
without poetic verve or semblance of constructive
talent, is a kind of chronicle of imaginary doings, it
is the work of an archaeologist or antiquary and
cherisher of mythical and legendary lore,—a cha
racter we miss entirely in the Elohist, in whose brief
and grand summary we note no reference either to
myth or legend, and no statement on which a single
dogmatic conclusion could be hung—no word that does
not accord with a pure and simple sense of the power
and goodness of God as Creator of the world. In
the incoherent narrative of the Jehovist, on the con
trary, we meet with nothing that cannot be referred
to myth or legend, derived moreover, for the most
part, from sources beyond the boundaries of Judea,
pertaining to peoples other than the children of Israel,
and supplying foundations for the entire superstructure
of Christian Dogma. The Jehovistic account may
even be said to sin in transferring essentials of the
religious system of the Medo-Persian people to that of
the children of Israel.
Which of these two accounts is believed to be the
more ancient ?
The Elohistic; although this is questionable, for
both accounts can be said with great certainty to
date from relatively recent times—the Elohistic being
clearly enough shown, by the finished character of
the work and the purity of the diction in the original,
to be the product of an age not earlier nor yet much
later than that of Solomon ; the Jehovistic being as
safely assignable to a time subsequent to the Baby
lonian captivity, when the Jews had been brought
into contact with a people entertaining dualistic ideas
�Genesis : The Jehovist.
31
of Deity, and in their ritual addicted to Light or
Dire, Tree and Serpent worship—Light or Dire,
having Ormuzd, representative of the Good or
Creative principle in nature, symbolised by the Sun
and the Tree; Darkness, Destruction and Death,
having Ahriman, in eternal antagonism to Ormuzd,
with the serpent as his emblem.
This would account for the prominent places occu
pied in the Jehovist’s story by the Tree and the
Serpent ?
The worship of the Tree and the Serpent was
among the earliest and widest spread of all the ways
in which man sought to show his sense of dependence
on a something, a Power, beyond and stronger than
himself. Unless it be the rising of the sun—“ Great
eye of God, ” no phenomenon in nature is so notable
in temperate lands as the awakening of the vegetable
world from death to life on the return of Spring ;
and save the lightning’s flash, nothing is seen so
deadly as the serpent’s fang. No marvel, therefore,
that the tree was chosen by man awakened to reflec
tion as symbol of the Life-giving power, or the
serpent selected as type of the death-dealing influence
around him. These symbols personified and called
by names became Brahma and S^iva, Ormuzd and
Ahriman, Osiris and Typhon, Jehovah and Satan,
God and the Devil. Detached from the Nature in
which they inhere, and thought of as causes of the
good and evil that befals, they were then sought to
be communed with in thankfulness or in fear, and,
approached with praises, prayers, and offerings, all
the elements of the religious ideas and ritual obser
vances of mankind make their appearance.
The history of the garden in Eden, of the Tree of
Life and the subtil serpent continue, we may presume,
to occupy a prominent place in the religious annals
of the Jewish people ?
It is very notable, nevertheless, that the tale is not
�32
The Pentateuch.
even once referred to by any of the succeeding Old
Testament writers; nor indeed until we pass the
epoch of the Christian sera do we find it exerting the
slightest influence on the religious opinions of the
Jewish people. Neither Jesus of Nazareth nor his im
mediate friends and followers appear to have known
anything of the garden of Eden, or
“ Of man’s first disobedience and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste
Brought death into the world and all our woe.”
It was not until Paul of Tarsus1 came upon the scene
that the tale, taken in its most literal sense, began to
bear fruit. Connecting the myth of man’s disobedience
with the Messianic Idea, in the modified shape it had
assumed in his day, with the moral and religious
teaching, the beautiful life and cruel death of Jesus
of Nazareth as they were orally related to him, Paul,
the one man of culture, seemingly, among the dissi
dents of his day from the religion of his country,
made it the foundation of the New Dogmatic Religion
he taught with such unwearied zeal, which has so
long exerted so vast an influence in the world, and is
only now beginning to lose its hold* on the minds and
imaginations of mankind.
Returning to our story, we find the man and the
woman after their expulsion from Paradise knowing
each other in the way ordained of God and bringing
children into the world—Cain and Abel, according to
the unhappy tale of the Jehovistic writer, earliest
record of dissension between man and man, of the
first murder done in time, of the parties to the differ
ence Brothers, and its ground Religion !
True—according to the story:—Cain the husband
man’s offering of “ the fruits of the earth ” was not
respected of Jehovah, whilst Abel the shepherd’s
sacrifice of “ the firstlings of his flock and the fat
thereof” was accepted.
�Genesis : Cain and Abel.
'
33
We might have imagined that the laborious hus
bandman’s offering of the products of his industry
and skill would have been at least as well received by
Jehovah as the idle herdsman’s lamb and kid ?
Certainly, and with good reason we might. But
as Jehovah in the later Jewish ritual, of which alone
we have the record somewhat complete, is only to be
approached with blood-offerings, it would not
have suited the modern priestly compiler of these
mythical tales of early times to have had the fruits
and flowers of the earth—God accursed, as said—as
grateful to his God Jehovah as the blood or Life,
and the fat and flesh, of his daily and periodical
sacrifices.
Cain is described as dissatisfied with the rejection
of his offering and the preference shown to that of
his brother ?
So it is said—his countenance fell; and turning his
anger against his brother, they had words,—they had
a quarrel; and as they were in the field Cain rose up
against Abel his brother, and slew him. The blow
therefore could not have been of malice prepense,—
nor meant to be fatal, as unhappily it proved.
Cain is not informed why his offering of fruit and
flowers was not respected ?
He is not; he is only told that “ if he does well he
will be accepted, and if not well that sin lies at the
door; ” but where he had done amiss, and so had his
offering rejected, is not set forth in this enigmatical
sentence. With the Jewish ritual as subsequently
instituted before us, however, we are at no loss to in
terpret it. To the Hebrew mind there could be no
remission of sins without the shedding of blood—the
terrible, idea that forms the foun dation of the domi
nant Christian faith, though it certainly has no part
in the religion of Jesus of Nazareth. •
Jehovah is wroth with Cain for his foul deed,
and tells the criminal that he is now cursed from the
D
�34
The Pentateuch.
earth ; that when he tills the ground it will not yield
its strength, and that henceforth he should be a fugi
tive and a vagabond in the earth.
Does not the writer here make physical results de
pend on moral conditions ?
He does ; but if Cain, with his hands all embrued
in his brother’s blood, tilled a fertile soil with the
requisite skill and care, the land, by a prior fiat of
God, would not fail to yield its increase; and the
most pious and moral man who settled on a desert,
or who brought neither skill nor care to bear on his
work even under circumstances favourable in them
selves, would have failure for his portion. He who
conforms to the laws of nature in their several do
mains, whatever his moral or religious character, will
not fail of his return; as he who. does not so conform
himself, no matter what his pious disposition, will
necessarily go without reward.
Cain, however, is to be protected from violence ?
Jehovah, it is said, set a mark on him, lest any
one meeting him should slay him.
Such a precaution would imply that there were
other people in the earth besides Adam and Eve and
their son Cain ?
It would so; but the book is full of like incon
sistencies, as in this place it is very notably, with the
commandment elsewhere delivered, that he who
knowingly took life should surely himself be put to
death.
Cain and Abel are the first children of the first
man, Adam, and his wife, Eve, according to the
Jehovistic narrative. Does this agree with the
Elohist ?
It does not. The Elohist’s story, interrupted after
the third verse of the second chapter of Genesis, is
resumed at the first verse of the fifth chapter in these
words: “ This is the book of the generations of
Adam; ” and Adams first son is not Cain, neither is
�Genesis
Cain and Abel.
35
the second Abel; but the first and only son he has
whose name is mentioned is Seth, and though Adam
is reported to have lived hundreds of years afterwards'
and begotten sons and daughters, neither they nor
their descendants are named. The genealogy of Seth
alone is continued, he begetting Enos, Enos Cainan,
Cainan Mahalaleel, and so on, till we come to Lamech,
who begets Noah, the next personage who plays an
important part in the mythical tale in the study of
which we are engaged.
The terrible tale of the murder of Abel by his
brother Cain may therefore be the work of one of
the later Jehovistic writers ?
It has every appearance of being so ; and if we may
imagine the writer thinking it desirable to have the
earliest possible authority for the blood-stained altars
of his day, we can divine his motive for inventing
the story of the offerings and of the preference shown
by Jehovah for the bloody over the bloodless sacri
fice, inserting it where it stands, and adding the mur
der of the one brother by the other by way of giving
colour and force to his picture. No man in his senses,
freed from prejudice and possessed of the requisite
information, can believe for a moment that the
Jehovistic writer could have known that Cain killed
Abel, or that the three sons of Noah were Shem,
Ham, and Japhet.e
e Subsequently to the time when Nehemiah was Governor
of Judea under Cyrus, says M. Albert Reville, the office of
High-Priest, as conferring the chief authority in the country,
became an object of ambition, not only between one priestly
family and another, but between different members of the
same family; and in a certain instance in which two brothers
were aspirants to the office, so high did the rivalry run, that
the one killed the other. It were not presuming too far, per
haps, as all fiction has a foundation in fact, and as we are now
so well assured of the relatively modern date of by far the
greater portion of the Pentateuch, to find in this recent in
stance of fratricide the source of the story of the murder in
�36
The Pentateuch.
God, in calling men and women into the world,
had endowed them, as well as all other conscious
living creatures, with the wonderful faculty of pro
ducing their like, and continuing themselves in their
kind ?
He had virtually said, in the power bestowed, but
not in words : “ Increase and multiply and replenish
the earth,” a commandment they were no more loth
to obey in times gone by than they are in the present
day. But Jehovah, as it appears by the record, had
been less careful than might have been expected in
selecting the race by which the world was to be
peopled; for, to say nothing of the murder of Abel
by Cain, no more than ten generations of men had
•lived on the earth before their wickedness was found
so great, the imaginations of their heart so con
tinually evil, that, according to the record, it even
“repented Jehovah that he had made men upon the
earth.”
This is extraordinary language in connection with
the name of God ?
With the idea of God, as we entertain it, certainly,
but not with that of the Jehovah of the Hebrew
Scriptures, who was but a powerful man of the early,
jealous, revengeful, arbitrary, variable, and often
savage type. The statement, nevertheless, stands
part of the sacred writings of the Jews, still held in
spired not only in their precepts and ordinances, but
in every word and letter, and believed by iflore than
they are denied among Christians to be the word of
God to man.
Can we, however, presume that God ever repents
of anything he has done, or changes his mind as to
aught he had intended to do ?
Man may repent and change; God cannot do so.
the olden time of Abel by his brother Cain.—(Comp. Revue des
Deux Mondes, lier Mars, 1872.)
�Genesis ; 7 he Flood.
37
- Is there any reason given for the great wickedness
charged upon mankind ?
There is none.
Is not the disobedience in eating the forbidden
fruit assigned as its cause ?
It is not once referred to ; and if it had been so, the
disobedience as consequence of an untoward disposi
tion could not be its cause.
Is there anything else in the text that may be held
adequate to bring about the evil imaginations im
puted ?
There is absolutely nothing. The sons of God, in
deed, are said to have seen the daughters of men that
they were fair, and to have taken them wives of all
they chose ; and this incomprehensible statement has
been laid hold of as a means of accounting for the
prevailing wickedness. But the sons of God, who
ever they were, must be presumed, from their title,
to have been of higher nature than the daughters of
earth, and to have improved, not deteriorated, the
breed.
And. this, indeed, in so far as we can judge by
what is said, appears to have been the case; for we
learn. that the children born to the sons of God co
habiting with the daughters of men became mighty
men, which were of old men of renown ?
So runs the tale; and the myth or legend helps to
no solution of the matter. The wickedness of men,
however, was great in the earth, and every imagina
tion of man was evil continually, so that Jehovah
said at length; “I will destroy man whom I have
created from the face of the earth, both man and
beast and creeping thing, and the fowls of the air;
for it repenteth me that I have made them.”
. The beasts and creeping things and fowls of the
air had done nothing to deserve extermination ?
Nevertheless they were to share in the doom of
man and be destroyed.
�38
The Pentateuch.
Certain reservations, however, are to be made to
the general portentbus resolution come to by Jehovah ?
Addressing Noah, who is characterised as “ a just
man and perfect in his generations,” Jehovah in
forms him that the end of all flesh had come before
him, and that he had resolved to destroy them, and
all wherein is the breath of life, by means of a flood
of water which he will bring upon the earth. With
Noah, however, he will establish his covenant. Him.
and his family, of all mankind, he will save alive by
means of an ark, or great ship, which he is ordered
to construct of certain materials, of certain dimen
sions, and in certain ways, in which he and his family,
and two and two, male and female, of every living
thing, are to be housed whilst the whole earth is laid
under water.
Noah does all he is ordered ?
He does, and with his wife, his sons and daughters,
their sons and daughters, and the pairs to be saved
alive, is safely housed in the ark. Then, it is said,
are the foundations of the great deep broken up, and
the windows of heaven opened, and rain falls for
forty days and forty nights, and the waters prevail
exceedingly, covering the higher hills fifteen cubits
and upwards, so that all in whose nostrils was the
breath of life are destroyed from the face of the
earth, Noah alone and they that were with him in the
ark remaining alive.
How long is the flood of waters said to have pre
vailed ?
After increasing for a hundred and fifty days, the
fountains of the deep, it is said, are stopped, and the
rain from heaven is restrained. The waters then
begin to assuage; but it is not until the first day of
the tenth month that the tops of the highest lands
are seen, when the ark grounds on the mountains of
Ararat; and only after the lapse of a whole year of
imprisonment that Noah, finding the ground dry,
�Genesis : The Flood.
39
takes off the covering of the ark and goes forth, he
and his family, and all that had been saved alive,
with the blessing of God upon him and them, and a
renewed injunction to be fruitful and to multiply upon
the earth.
Noah was ordered to take into the ark pairs of
every living thing. Every living thing would include
whales, seals, fishes, and the inhabitants of the waters
generally—crustaceans, molluscs, radiates, &c.—yet
we find no mention made of them.
There is none; but if they were to be saved, some
provision was as necessary for them as for the other
air-breathing land animals. With the obvious diffi
culty of providing in the ark for the inhabitants of
the water, however, they are left to take their chance
in the Tohu-Bohu of the flood. Every inhabitant of
the water, nevertheless, has a definite sphere assigned
it, for which it is fitted, and out of which it cannot
live. Natives of the salt water cannot, for the most
part, live in the fresh, nor can those of the fresh
generally live in the salt. The whalebone and
spermaceti whales, among many others, would have
proved especially awkward occupants of the great
ship!
. There is provision made for feeding the host of
living creatures there gathered together ?
There is, but for the vegetable feeders only.
How, then, were the flesh feeders to be kept alive ?
By accommodating themselves, say the apologists
for every untenable statement within the lids of the
Bible, to the dry fodder of the phytivorous kinds—by
feeding with, not on them.
. The lion, tiger, wolf, and weazel eat hay and straw
like the ox and sheep ?
So most of our authoritative exponents of the diffi
cult Bible passages say. But the structure of the
teeth and jaws of the carnivorous tribes incapacitates
them from doing as our learned exegetists would have
�40
Phe Pentateuch.
them, for they can only cut and tear their food in
pieces, not grind, it into pulp like the ox and sheep.
The structure of their stomach and intestines, more
over, is not of the kind that fits them to digest and
assimilate vegetable food.
Was not some provision also necessary for saving
the members of the vegetable world alive ?
As indispensably necessary as it was in regard to
those of the animal kingdom, yet none is made, pro
bably because the writer had overlooked the fact that
plants held under water for any length of time are
as surely drowned as animals. Scarcely any land
growing plant can be kept for days, weeks, or months
submerged without being killed; neither will the
plants that live naturally in fresh water exist in salt
water, nor will salt-water plants survive in fresh
water. The pretty incident of the olive leaf with
which the dove sent forth from the ark returned
as a sign that the waters were abated, was an im
possibility ; after steeping in brine for twelve months
all the olive trees must have been long dead and
their leaves rotten.
And in what state could the Earth have been left,
after a flood that covered the highest mountains
fifteen cubits and upwards ?
What could it have been but a bank and shoal of
desolation, bare of herbage of every kind ; so that
the vegetable feeders saved alive in the Ark must
have died forthwith of hunger when released from
their temporary shelter.
Had the flesh-feeders been thought of in the Ark,
they too must now have starved like the phytivorous
kinds when dispersed over the bare, stony, muddy,
and depopulated flats ?
They would but have been saved from sudden
death by drowning to fall victims to a lingering death
by starvation.
There are two accounts of the flood, as of so many
�Genesis: The Flood.
41
other incidents in the Hebrew Scriptures, one as
usual by the Elohist, the other by the Jehovist ?
There are certainly two different accounts, much
intermingled, indeed, yet separable for the most part
by careful sifting from one another.
Do they agree ?
No ; they differ in several important particulars,
especially in a distinction made by the Jehovist between
what are called clean and unclean animals. Whilst
two and two of the unclean are ordered to be taken
into the Ark, the clean are to be received by sevens—
three pairs and an odd one.
The odd one would have been of little use in help
ing out Jehovah’s final admonition to the pairs on
leaving the Ark ?
But was necessary to avoid breaking the sets and
making the survivor of any pair useless ; for a victim
must be available for the religious service which Noah
is made to perform immediately on quitting his long
imprisonment, his first act having been to build an
altar to Jehovah and to offer burnt offerings thereon
of every clean beast and clean fowl he had had with
him in the Ark.
Jehovah is gratified by Noah’s pious acknowledg
ment of the favour shown to him and his ?
.Jehovah, it is said, smelled a sweet savour, and
said in his heart: I will not again curse the ground
for man’s sake ; for the imagination of man’s heart is
evil from his youth; neither will I again smite every
living thing as I have done.
This is surely very strange language to be set down
as proceeding from his God by the writer!—But if
the imaginations of the heart of man were seen in
this way by Jehovah after the terrible catastrophe
that had taken place, it is obvious that nothing had
been done to better the Earth by drowning it ?
The almost despairing tones in which the narrative
proceeds might fairly lead us to conclude that as little
�42
'The Pentateuch.
had been done by the flood to amend matters in the
past as to leave them with a chance of improvement
in the future. But we are to be careful to assign the
account given of what Jehovah said in his heart to
its only possible author—the Hebrew writer; for it
is very certain that he could know nothing of the
purposes of the True God, and that the words
ascribed to the Supreme are not his, but the man’s.
Jehovah is now made by the writer to appear as
though he were even sorry for what he had done, for he
makes him go onto say : While the Earth remaineth,
seedtime and harvest, and heat and cold, and summer
and winter, and day and night, shall not cease. And
I will establish my covenant with you, and for a
token I set my bow in the cloud ; and it shall come
to pass that when I bring a cloud over the earth that
the bow shall be seen in the cloud, and I will remem
ber my covenant which is between me and you and
every living creature of all flesh.
All this is purely human; meaningless in con
nection with the name of God; but the Hebrew
writer had evidently no other conception of God than
as a supernaturally powerful, irascible, revengeful,
and yet upon occasion pitiful human being, thwarted
continually in his kindly purposes by the wayward
ness and wickedness of the creature he had called
into existence.
What is to be concluded in regard to the covenant
which Jehovah is stated to have entered into with
Noah, whereof the bow in the heavens is the token ?
God’s covenants were all made with man when he
commenced his career on earth, their conditions im
plemented in the organisation of his body and its
aptitudes, all co-ordinate with and in the most perfect
possible harmony with the nature of things and the
circumstances amid which he began, as he still con
tinues, to be.
' What are we to think of the writer’s imagining
�Genesis: The Flood.
43
that God required a remembrancer of aught he meant
to do or to leave undone ?
Whatever the writer may have imagined, we are to
think that God, who is in and of all that is and that
comes to pass, needs no remembrancer. The rain
bow is a natural and necessary effect of the refraction
or breaking up of the difform rays of which light is
composed, by the globular drops of water that consti
tute rain, in virtue of laws inherent in and co-eternal with the nature of God and the qualities of matter.
Rainbows necessarily spanned the sky countless ages
before there was a Noah to observe them; it may
have been that one appeared when the several showers
fell that have left their records in the sandstone slabs
now preserved in our museums !
Looked somewhat closely into, therefore, with an
eye couched of prejudice, the story of the Deluge
(the Noachian Deluge as it is called to distinguish it
from other deluges of which shadowy records are
preserved in the legendary annals of several ancient
nations) appears to be wanting in every particular
that could give it the semblance not merely of pro
bability but even of possibility ?
There can be no question of this. The motive
assigned for its occurrence, in the first place, is
absurd—utterly incompatible with the Idea of the
God of reason and humanity. The saving instrument,
the ark itself-—speaking seriously of the matter for
a moment,—was utterly incompetent to the end pro
posed,—it was not of half the tonnage of our Great
Eastern steam-ship! And how conceive all the
animals that people the globe packed into any defi
nite space, were it even ten or twenty times the area
of the mighty ship ! How, again, conceive Noah and
his three sons competent even in the course of their
reputed long lives to have prepared and put together
the materials of such a vessel as the one described.
They were assisted by the wicked people about them,
�44
'
The Pentateuch.
it may be and has of course been said : true, and these
were at the end to stand complacently by whilst Noah,
his family, and selected pairs from either pole to the
equator filed into the ark, and left them outside to
drown!
Shut up in the ark pitched with pitch without and
within, with a single window in the roof—and no
more is mentioned, whatever apologists in face of the
difficulty may say—a cubit each way in its dimensions,
what must have been the inevitable fate of the in
cluded company ?
The door could scarcely have been closed, supposing
the window to have been left open—and Jehovah
himself is made to shut it, as shut it must needs be
to keep out the rain—before the whole assembly
would necessarily have been stifled. Man, the higher
mammalia, and most birds, can live for hours, even for
days, without food, but they cannot exist for five
minutes deprived of air; and the ark, with its win
dow of a cubit, or eighteen inches, square in the roof,
would have proved as inevitably fatal by stifling to
the creatures within it intended to be saved, as the
waters would be found deadly to those outside
destined to be drowned.
So deadly an agent as vitiated air operating imme
diately would have made any further provision for the
maintenance and comfort of the inhabitants of the
ark unnecessary ; but supposing such a possibility as
asphyxia not to have occurred—and it is obviously
never contemplated by the narrator—how could Noah
and his three sons have distributed their appropriate
rations to the several pairs or sevens of all the ani
mals that peopled the earth, now gathered together
around them; how have supplied them with the in
dispensable water, how have got rid of the inevitable
excrements ?
How indeed!
Why, then, dwell on such childish, impossible, and
�Genesis: The Flood.
45
even impious tales as those in the Old Testament of
the Jews concerning the flood and Noah’s ark ?
Because they still obtain currency and credence in
the world, although they undoubtedly deserve all
these epithets, and are in very truth not only childish,
impious, and impossible, but misleading, and calculated
to give false notions of the God of Nature’s dealings
with mankind and the world. The tale of the Deluge
and the ark is never presented in its true light by the
ministers of religion, though as men of culture their
eyes must have been opened to its absurdity, and the
most imperative of all their duties is surely to speak
truth, and to show God’s providence in acts harmo
nious with the great eternal changeless laws, elements
in his own nature, whereby he rules the world.
The Deluge and the favour shown to Noah and his
family are still advanced as illustrations not only of
God s displeasure and justice in dealing with the
wicked, but of his goodness and mercy also, and the
special favour in which he has the exceptionally good
and pious ?
This is certainly the case. But God’s displeasure
and justice are shown by the punishment or reward’
which men bring on themselves through the violation
or observance of his laws. Neither do his goodness
and mercy appear any more in the lives saved from
flood and tempest, than is his vengeance proclaimed in
the lives that are lost. As we proceed in the narrative,
indeed, suspicions arise that all the members of the
family exceptionally saved were not so worthy of the
favour shown them as it seems easy to imagine they
might have been. The mythical tale of Noah and the
Deluge, with all the unreason attached to it, is never
theless made to enter as a prominent feature into the
Christian system. The infant of parents belonging
to several of its churches, and these the most influen
tial of all, does not undergo the initiatory rite of bap
tism by sprinkling with water, without allusion being
�46
Phe Pentateuch,
made to Noah and his family, “whom God of his
great mercy saved in the ark from perishing by
waterthough the connection between a world
drowned, with Noah saved, and the sprinkling of a
little water on the face of an unconscious infant
escapes both common sense and unsophisticated
reason.
The tale of the Deluge is one of the incidents re
corded in the Hebrew scriptures that rivets itself on
the mind and imagination of the young, and, with the
further reference made to it in connection with a
solemn religious rite, scarcely fails to exercise an ad
verse influence on the judgment of men and women
in riper years ?
There can be little doubt of this. The ship-like
ark with the nicely-formed figures of its multitudi
nous tenants, headed by Noah, his wife, and their
sons, Ham, Shem, and Japhet, which is presented to
almost every child among us when its intelligence
begins to dawn, fixes the myth as a positive occur
rence in the mind of the vast majority of children
born into the world of Christian parents, and it is
not every one who can free himself in after life from
the absurd and indefensible conclusions to which it
leads.
To refer to the goodness and mercy of God in con
nection with the world he has drowned, is surely
beside the mark ?
It appears so to the unprejudiced who venture to
use the reason and moral sense which God has given
them for their guidance, and to see things in conso
nance with the knowledge of their age. If the earth
was filled with wickedness, as said, and it were con
ceded that wickedness deserved punishment, still
drowning does not seem either the reasonable or mer
ciful way of bringing about the amendment which we
must presume to be the object of all castigation—
the castigation of God in especial. And if Noah and
�Genesis; 'The Flood,
47
his family were worthy to be saved alive, they could
not have been alone in their worthiness ;—there were
new-born babes, for instance, helpless infants, and
young children, who could not have deserved drown
ing on the ground that their fathers and mothers
were wicked. The hapless animals, also, which
perished, had been guilty of none of the disobedience
and wickedness alleged against the human kind, and
could no more have' merited their untimely fate
through obeying their natural instincts, than the pairs
saved could have merited the preference shown them
through fulfilling theirs.
So much for the moral aspects, or some of the
moral aspects, of the Noachian Deluge. Can the de
bacle referred to be comprehended and accounted for
on simple physical grounds ?
As an universal over-swimming of the earth within
the period when man became its denizen, the Deluge
of the Bible is incomprehensible; and had it even been
possible, yet may we feel confident that it did never
occur. The dry land of the earth, indeed, has in
every part known to us been at different and gene
rally far remote epochs oftener than once at the bot
tom of deep seas and vast fresh-water lakes. So
much we know for certain ; and we further feel assured
that the bottoms of many of our present seas and lakes
must once have been dry land. The islets that stud
the vast Pacific Ocean rest for the most part on the
peaks of lofty mountains now submerged. Upon and
around these the coral insect, building its own habita
tion for ages, spreads itself abroad level with the wash
of the sea, and furnishes man with resting places
amid depths he tries in vain to fathom with the com
mon plummet line. Arctic and Antarctic lands, again,
now overlaid with thick-ribbed ice, thousands of feet
inBthickness, where lichens and mosses are the only
vegetable productions sparsely seen, once possessed a
luxuriant growth of the trees and shrubs of temperate
�48
The Pentateuch.
lands, and teemed with insect and higher animal life.
The temperate regions, again, where nature now
smiles for half the year at least, and the soil yields
corn and wine and oil to the industry of man, were
overlapped in former ages of the world by glaciers
hundreds of feet in thickness, pouring down from
northern heights, and putting as effectual an end to
the life that had been upon them as ever Noah’s
Deluge could have done; telling the tale of their
source and leaving records of their course in the pon
derous blocks or boulders they have carried and left
among us, as well as by the groovings and abraded
surfaces of our hills, on which the eye of science reads
the history of another state of things than that which
now prevails.
Are there any traces of the presence of man on the
earth discoverable among the records of those earlv
ages ?
In so far as we yet know it is only in the latest
drift—the gravel, sand, and clay of the quaternary
period, and in the caves of limestone rocks, that we
find evidences in his remains, of man’s existence on
the earth. Associated as these are with the teeth and
bones of animals fitted to live in cold or temperate
climates,—the cave bear, the hyeena, the hairy mam
moth and woolly rhinoceros, we infer that man as
man was present in these northern temperate lati
tudes in times not exceedingly remote, geologically
speaking, from the last great glacial epoch in the
earth’s history, but still some hundreds of thousands
of years ago—how many it is impossible to say.
There may have been—doubtless there was—some
foundation in fact for the tale of the Noachian
Deluge ?
Many regions of the globe are still exposed to dis
astrous floods that sweep away the inhabitants and
their cattle by thousands, and we are therefore war
ranted in saying that in the story of the Noachian
�Genesis: Noah.
49
Deluge we have the legendary record of some great
flood which occurred in far off times, when the high
lands of Armenia and Mesopotamia, whence appear
to have come the Hebrews and others of the cognate
tribes that peopled Palestine, were other than they
are at the present day, or than they were fifty, a hun
dred, a thousand, or ten hundred thousand years ago.
Tn the earlier ages of the world there must have oc
curred floodings of extensive districts of country, at
tended with disastrous consequences to life and pos
sessions, of which we have the shadowy records in
the tales of the Noachian, Dencalian, and other
deluges. In our own day, indeed, we know that
floods as terrible, it may be, as any that ever occurred
in pre-historic times, and probably even more destruc
tive to human life, have happened in regions watered
by such mighty rivers as the Indus and the Ganges.
These, however, we now interpret as having come to
pass through no repentant mood or revengeful pur
pose on the part of God to drown the hapless people
for their sins, but in consonance with natural inci
dents and natural laws, such as the giving way of a
mountain harrier that had penned up a mighty lake,
disintegrated by frost, and sapped by long-continued
rain ; the melting of a glacier which stretched across
a gorge in the hills, and held back an ocean behind
it; excessive rainfalls, accompanied by gales of wind
that heaped up the waters of great draining streams
at their outlets to the ocean, &c.
So much for the flood; what is said of Noah’s
doings after it ?
He became a husbandman, planted a vine, drank
of the wine it produced, and was drunken.
Some years must have elapsed before Noah could
have indulged in such an improper way; and whence
he had the vines, after all the plants on the face of
the earth had been drowned, like its animal inhabi
tants, does not appear.
E
�5°
The Pentateuch.
What happened next ?
Noah’s son Ham happening to come into the tent,
and seeing his father in an unseemly state of naked
ness, and probably asleep after his debauch, was
cursed in his posterity by his parent, whilst Shem
and Japhet, who covered him over, are blessed.
“ Cursed be Canaan (one of Ham’s sons), a servant
of servants shall he be unto his brethren,” is the form
of the malediction pronounced on the son by his
father for having had the use of his eyes.
What may be the meaning of this ?
Canaan, according to the mythical story, was an
cestor of the tribe that peopled the country called
after him, which the Jews ravaged with fire and
sword, appropriating the territory, and reducing the
inhabitants whom they did not slaughter to the state
of slaves. The curse of the innocent son—cursing in
the Hebrew scriptures not always going by demerit,
any more than blessing by desert—may have been
contrived as an excuse for the murder and robbery
perpetrated in after years by the sept which had
Shem for its progenitor.
What is the next remarkable incident recorded in
these mythical tales of prehistoric times ?
The building of a city on a plain in the land of
Shinar, and of a tower in especial whose top was to
reach to heaven, all the people being still of one
language.
What follows ?
“Jehovah,” it is said, “came down (!) to seethe
city and the tower.” Not approving of the builders’
proceedings, apprehensive it might seem that, united
by the bond of a common language, their work would
be carried to a successful issue, and heaven, his own
peculiar dwelling-place, be stormed, he is reported to
say further: “ Go to ! let us go down and there con
found the language of the people that they may not
understand one another’s speech.” This being done
�Genesis; The T^ower of Babel.
$i
—Jehovah coming down and confounding their
speech—the inhabitants of the city on the plain of
Shinar left off their building, became scattered abroad
over the face of the earth, and heaven was not as
sailed.
The purpose for which this childish story was de
vised is plain ?
It was doubtless contrived as a means of accounting
for the diversities of language which the Jewish
writer, even in his restricted intercourse with the
rest of the world, could not fail to observe. As to
God’s “ coming down to see,” and “ the tower whose
top should reach to heaven,” all this is mere childish
ness, though not unimportant, as enabling us to
measure the conception of the nature of Deity enter
tained by the writer, whoever he was—one of Nebu
chadnezzar’s captives in all probability, who had had
reluctant occasion to see the lofty temple of Babylon,
on whose summit, as the metropolitan “ High place,”
the rites of Baal and Mylitta were celebrated.f
Have we not two accounts of the Tower of Babel
and the confusion of tongues, as of so many others of
the mythical tales of the Old Testament ?
We have but one account of this particular inci
dent, and that by the Jehovist. It is not even alluded
to by the more sensible Elohist. Both writers, how
ever, give genealogies of Noah’s descendants ; but
these do not agree, the Jehovist stopping short at the
name of a certain Joktan, not mentioned by the
Elohist, who carries on the stock to Terah, the father
of Abram, the next most important personage met
with in the story of the Hebrew people ?
Terah, we are informed, removes with his family
from Ur of the Chaldees to Haran—what happens to
Abram his son ?
Commanded to leave his father’s house and kindred,
f See Herodotus, Clio, 199, and Appendix B.
�5*
Phe Pentateuch.
under a promise of being made a great nation, Abram
departs and comes into the land of Canaan; but a
famine prevailing, he goes on, still southward, and
reaches Egypt, where he abides.
What particular orders did Abram give his wife
Sarai as they neared the land of Egypt ?
He ordered her to report falsely of their relation
ship—to say she was his sister, not his wife, lest the
Egyptians, to obtain possession of her, should make
away with him.
What came of this ?
Sarai, being fair to look on, was taken into the
Pharaoh’s house—as a concubine, of course, and
Abram was well entreated. But Jehovah,' it is said,
“ plagued Pharaoh because of Sarai, Abram’s wife,”
though, to our modern sense of fairness, the parties
who most deserved plaguing were Abram and Sarai
themselves. Brought by the plagues he suffered—■
what they were we are not informed, of the kind
perhaps which the Scottish poet hints at when he
speaks
“ Of the best wark-loom in a’ house,
No worth a prin just at the pinch ”—
and led to suspect that he had been imposed on,
Pharaoh now summons Abram to his presence, and
reproaches him with the falsehood he had suggested;
but, only anxious to be quit of the strangers, he sent
Abram away with his wife and all that he had.
There is a repetition of this story in another part of
these Old Testament writings still held sacred ?
There is. Abiding at a later period in Gerar (in
Phoenicia), and again “ lest they should slay him for
his wife’s sake,” Abram himself reports Sarai his wife
as his sister to Abimelech, king of the country, who,
like the Egyptian Pharaoh, had taken her to himself.
But Elohim (for the story in its present shape, if the
title of his God is to guide us, is from the Elohist, as
�Genesis: Abram.
53
in its first form it was from the pen of the Jehovist)
now threatens Abimelech in a dream with death to
himself and disaster to his kingdom,—not because of
his concupiscence, however, but by reason of his re
lations with Sarai, into which he may be said to have
been led by the lie that was told him.
To what shift is the writer now driven to save
Sarai from dishonour and to help Abram out of the
disgrace of telling a falsehood ?
He appends a number of particulars to his tale,
which may fairly be taken for what they are worth,
and then speaks of a more intimate blood-relationship
between Abram and Sarai than any that had been
hinted at before. But to make Abram the husband
of his own father’s child—his sister, therefore,—
seems on every moral mode of computation a sorry
means of helping him out of his difficulty—better to
have left him with the lie than laden him with incest.
But criticism is thrown away upon the unreason and
incongruity of the twentieth chapter of Genesis.
To make confusion worse confounded, is there
not another story, the same in almost every particular,
connected with the history of Isaac and Rebekah ?
There is, and strangely enough, and to puzzle us
the more, it is the same, or it may be another Abime
lech, King of the Philistines, who now takes the place
of the King of Gerar and the Pharaoh of Egypt.
Abimelech, King of the Philistines, however, is
neither plagued like the Pharaoh nor threatened like
his namesake ; for, happening to look out of a window
“he saw and behold Isaac was sporting with Rebekah
his wife.” On this discovery, and inferring the true
relationship between Isaac and Rebekah, he challenges
the husband with having spoken falsely.
Is Abimelech, King of the Philistines, wroth with
Isaac and Rebekah because of the falsehood they had
told him ?
By no means. On the contrary, he sends Isaac
�54
The Pentateuch.
away,, with his wife ; “ having done him nothing but
good. Sarai would seem to have been a singularly
attractive person; for when the encounter with
Abimelech took place she must have been not less
than ninety years old 1 And this and other such
unhallowed tales comprised in these old writings of
the Jewish people are still paraded in this nineteenth
century of the Christian era as parts of the inspired
word of God given for the edification of mankind!
Resuming the history of Abram, who now returns
from Egypt, in company with Lot his brother, to
Beth-el in Palestine, where, on his southward journey,
he had already built an altar to Jehovah,—what
happens ?
The herdsmen of the brothers having quarrelled,
they agree to separate; and Lot, having the first
choice, selects the plain of the Jordan, which was well
watered “ even as that Garden of Jehovah the land
of Egypt,” before the calamity that befel Sodom and
Gomorrah ; whilst Abram, for his part, resolves to
abide in the land of Canaan, which is again formally
promised to him and his posterity as a possession for
ever ; though it is now many centuries since it was
lost to them, and won by the Saracen and Turk.
The history of the Patriarch is interrupted at this
point ?
By the ill-digested account we find of a great battle
fought between four kings against five; of the capture
of Lot by Chederlaomer, one of the kings engaged,
and his confederates; of the rescue of Lot by Abram
and his retainers, and the recovery of all the booty
that had been carried off; of the appearance on the
scene of a certain Melchizedek, King of Salem, who is
also styled Priest of the most high God, who blesses
Abram, and in return receives a tithe of all the spoil
recovered.
Various interpretations, it is-to be presumed, have
been given of this episode ?
�Genesis: Abram.
55
Besides having been seen for that which in all
likelihood it is—the legendary record of a raid by
one party of petty chiefs against another—a more
recondite meaning has been connected with it; the
personages brought upon the scene having been re
ferred to the figures still to be seen on our celestial
globes, which have all been derived from planispheres of
ancient Indian and Egyptian descent, whilst the par
ticulars spoken of and the numbers given are held to be
significant of an attempt to reform the calendar. This,
owing to the true length of the year, 365 days six
hours fifty-six minutes and as many seconds, not being
known, was found in ancient times to require frequent
adjustments in order to bring the seasons, or the
solsticial and equinoctial points into conformity with
astronomical data and the computations of the old
astrologers.?
“ After these things,” says the text, “the word of
Jehovah came unto Abram in a vision, saying: Fear
not, Abram, I am thy shield and thy exceeding great
reward.” Does the Patriarch express himself grateful
for this assurance of the Divine favour ?
On the contrary, he complains that he is childless,
and that the steward of his house is his heir. He is
assured, however, that this shall not be so, but that
his heir shall be a son who shall come out of his own
bowels. Meantime he is bidden to look abroad on the
stars of heaven and say if he can number them, and
is further assured that so many should be his
posterity.
What more ?
Abram is now ordered to make a sacrifice of a
heifer, a she-goat, a ram, a turtle dove, and a young
pigeon. This he does ; slaying the victims, he divides
s The reader who is curious will find the subject now hinted
at discussed at length by Sir W. Drummond in his (Edipus
Judaicus ; and by a German writer of great erudition, Nork, in
his Biblische Mythologie.
�56
"The- Pentateuch.
them in the middle and lays the halves one against
another, but he does not proceed to consume them
with fire as usual upon the altar which we must pre
sume he had built. As the sun was going down a
deep sleep fell upon Abram, in which he had a second
vision, and was informed that his seed should be
strangers in a land that was not theirs ; that they
should there be afflicted for four hundred years, but
should afterwards come out with great substance and
possess the land where he then was from the river
of Egypt to the great river Euphrates.
What interpretation is to be put on the informa
tion thus and at this time delivered ?
That it is all information given after the event, and
assures us definitively that so much of the text at
least as conveys it was written long after the Israelites
had been settled in Palestine, and had subjugated the
Amorites, Hittites, Kenites, Jebusites, &c. Further,
and more particularly, as the Jebusites were only sub
dued and their city Jebus taken by King David, who
changed its name to Jerusalem, we learn that the
writer lived subsequently to the reign of that poten
tate.11
By what extraordinary agency were the carcases
prepared by Abram consumed ?
“ When the sun went down and it was dark, a
smoking furnace and a burning lamp passed between
the pieces.” But Jehovah, the titular God of the
Jews, is repeatedly spoken of in the Hebrew scrip
tures as “a consuming fire;” the smoking furnace
and burning lamp are therefore to be understood as
figurative expressions for the fire which Abram made
use of to sublimate the bodies of his victims and make
them meet food for his God.
h The Bishop of Natal has shown satisfactorily that this
passage is by the writer of Deuteronomy,—a very late writer
consequently.
�Genesis: Abram.
SI
Abram, we have seen, has been promised a son of
his own; but Sarai his wife bore him no children.
She, however, had a handmaid, an Egyptian, Hagar
by name, whom she gave to Abram her husband as a
second wife or concubine, saying to him: “ Go in
unto my maid, I pray thee, that I may obtain children
by her.”
This was a somewhat extraordinary and hazardous
proceeding on the part of Sarai ?
To modern notions, but not, it would seem, to such
as prevailed among the ancient Hebrews. Sarai may,
perhaps, have been curious to know whether the
“ effect defective ” lay with her or with her husband.
Abram, however, consents to the proposal F
He is nothing loth ; and Hagar conceives by him.
But when Hagar knew that she was with child by
Abram she despised and probably was insolent to her
barren mistress Sarai, who complains to Abram of
her handmaid’s behaviour.
Abram interposes manfully, of course, between the
barren Sarai and the fruitful Hagar, who has now his
own child under her heart ?
He does nothing of the kind. As he has already
shown himself cowardly and untruthful in presence
of Pharaoh and Abimelech, Abram now shows him
self both unjust and without natural compassion for
his concubine, for he says to the envious Sarai:
“ Behold thy maid is in thy hand ; do with her as it
pleaseth thee.” In her spite, although all had come
to.be as it was through her own suggestion, Sarai, as
said, “ dealt hardly with Hagar
who, terrified,
flees from her face into the wilderness.
What befalls her there ?
She is speedily reduced to extremity, of course, but
is found by a well of water in the desert by the angel
of Jehovah (who here, as in so many other places of
the Old Testament, turns out to be Jehovah himself),
and is admonished to return and submit herself to
�58
The Pentateuch.
her mistress. By way of inducement to do so (and
persuaded, doubtless, also by the strait in which she
found herself), she receives most liberal promises of
an ample posterity through the son whom she is in
formed she will bear. She therefore returns, and in
due season is delivered of a son, whom Abram calls
Ishmael, the name which Hagar had received for him
from the angel of Jehovah in the wilderness.
What is the next remarkable incident recorded in
this extraordinary history ?
When Abram is. ninety-nine years old, Jehovah
appears to him and announces himself as El-Schaddai—
the mighty El or God; orders him to change his
name from Abram to Abraham—father of many
nations, and his wife’s name Sarai to Sarah—Prin
cess ; “for,” says the narrative, “ I will make nations
of thee, and kings shall come out of thee.”
The covenant already made with Abram is thus
again, but with additions and more solemnly, renewed
with Abraham ?
It is, and as its seal and testimony for ever the rite
of circumcision is commanded : “ Every male child
among you,” says the text, “ shall be circumcised ; he
among you that is born in the house or is bought
with money of the stranger, that is eight days old,
shall be circumcised; the uncircumcised man-child
shall be cut off from his people—-he hath broken my
covenant.”
. What may be the meaning of the rite of circum
cision thus formally and forcibly announced ?
To think of it for a moment as ordered of God
were absurd : God sends his work fit for its end into
the world; it needs no interference of man to make
it so. Among the Semitic tribes, of whom the
Hebrews were one, human sacrifices appear to have
prevailed universally in early times : the first-born
of man and beast—or as the Old Testament scrip
tures have it, all that opened the womb—belonged to
�Genesis: Abraham.
59
the God of the tribe, however named—El, Bel, Baal, or
Molech—and through countless ages was undoubtedlysacrificed to him by fire. But as time ran on, as
civilisation advanced and more humane ideas were
engendered, the barbarous practice was seen in its
true light, and a substitute for the sacrifice of the
whole was sought for, and believed to have been
found, in the sacrifice of a part.
The rite of circumcision has significance in another,
though closely allied, direction ?
It has. Besides its symbolical character of sub
stitute, it is intimately connected with the worship
paid to the reproductive principle in nature, of which
the symbol was the Phallus. The Egyptian priests,
priests of the gods of increase—Osiris, Isis—were
necessarily circumcised, as the priests of the deities of
decay among other peoples—Attys, Cybele, &c. were
emasculated. In Egypt the priest appears to have
been consecrated to his office by circumcision,—the
commonalty of the country were not as a rule sub
jected to the rite. The Israelites, however, as a people
holy to Jehovah, were as matter of course and neces
sity circumcised : on the eighth day instead of being
presented as a burnt offering on the altar of his God,
as in the olden time he would have been had he hap
pened to be the first-born, every son of Israel in later
days had, and still has, the foreskin of his private
member solemnly resected by the priest and con
sumed in the fire, an offering, disguise it as they may,
to the fire-king Melek or Moloch whom their fathers
worshipped, and on whose altars they had been used
to offer up the first-born of their sons and daughters,
of their flocks and herds.
How does Abraham receive the intimation that a
son will be born to him by his wife Sarah, that she
shall yet be the mother of nations and that kings of
peoples shall be of her ?
Not so reverently as might have been expected.
�6°
The Pentateuch.
He fell on his.face, indeed, but he laughed incredulous,
and said in his heart: Shall a child be born unto him
that is an hundred years old; and shall Sarah that
is ninety years old bear ! He therefore entreats God
for his son Ishmael. But God says to him : “ Sarah
thy wife shall bear thee a son indeed, and thou shalt
call his name Isaac, and with him and his seed after
him will I establish my covenant everlastingly. And
as for Ishmael, him I have blessed, and he shall be
fruitful;. twelve princes shall he beget, and I will
make , him a great nation ; but my covenant will I
establish with Isaac which Sarah shall bear unto thee
at this set time of the year.”
There is as usual a second account of this mira
culous engendering of a son by persons respectively
one hundred and ninety years old ?
There is, and from the Jehovist, as that which pre
cedes is in great part from the storehouse of the
Elohist in great part, we say, for interpolations in
its course are readily detected by the attentive
reader. In the second account “ three men ” appear
to Abraham in the plains of Mamre, as he sat in the
tent door in the heat of the day. Abraham addresses
them as “My Lord,” invites them into his tent, has
water fetched to wash their feet, entertains them with
the flesh of a calf “tender and good,” with cakes
baked on the hearth by Sarah, and with butter and
milk a sumptuous Arab shiek’s repast, in short, and
himself stands by them under the tree as they eat.
What say the three men thus hospitably enter
tained ?
They ask after Sarah, and “ he ” (the singular
now taking the place of the plural) informs Abraham
that Sarah his wife shall bear him a son. Sarah,
‘ old and well stricken in years, with whom it had
ceased to be after the manner of women,” hears the
announcement and laughs at the notion of her and her
lord being old also ” having a child between them.
�Genesis: Abraham.
61
Sarah’s laugh and implied incredulousness does
not pass unobserved ?
No. “ Jehovah (the name now changed from
Elohim) said unto Abraham, Wherefore did Sarah
laugh, saying : Shall I of a surety bear a child which
am old I Is anything too hard for Jehovah ” ?
What answer makes Sarah when challenged with
her incredulous laughter ?
Not being of a perfectly truthful disposition, as we
know already, we are not surprised when we find her
denying that she had laughed : “ I laughed not,”
says she, “ for she was afraid. But Jehovah said :
Nay, but thou didst laugh.”
What are we to think of such tales, and of such
conceptions of the Deity as are implied in them ?
That the tales are the conceits of men with the
minds of children, and the preservers of them, and
above all the believers in them as records of veritable
events, involving matter either interesting or edifying,
are to be held as ignorant, credulous, superstitious,
and incompetent persons.
To the query : Is anything too hard for Jehovah,
what answer must be given ?
That God the Lord, Supreme Cause, Rule and Ruler
of the Universe, never contravenes the laws which are
his essence—cannot be in contradiction with himself.
Having ordained that when it ceases with a woman
to be after the manner of women she shall no longer
bear children, we may safely and with all reverence
say that God had verily made it too hard for him to
have Sarah become a mother. But the Jews had no
conception of a universe ruled by General, Invariable,
Necessary Law, nor any other idea of Jehovah than
as a sovereign prince and ruler, doing and undoing at
his arbitrary will and pleasure, having the earth alone
of all his works, and the children of Israel alone of all
the people upon it, as objects of his fatherly care and
consideration.
�62
The Pentateuch.
The , narrative proceeds, informing us that the
men
(the plural again) rise up and look towards
Sodom, Abraham going with them to bring them on
their way. As they go, Jehovah (now it is the sin
gular) is represented as deliberating with himself
whether he ought not to impart to Abraham the pur
pose he had conceived of destroying Sodom and
Gomorrah because of the wickedness of their inha
bitants, and is here made by the writer to say :
Because the cry of Sodom and Gomorrah is great
and their sin is very grievous, I will go down now and
see whether they have done altogether according to
the cry of it which is come unto me; and if not I
will know.” The Jews evidently thought of their
Jehovah as we think of a person in authority who
needs to make inquiry as to the truth or falsehood of
the reports that reach him : he came down to look
after the builders of the Tower of Babel and confound
their language, and he comes down again to take the
measure of the sinners of Sodom and Gomorrah? and
punish them according to their demerits.
The men turn their faces towards Sodom, but
Abraham, it is said, “stood yet before Jehovah.”
The use now of the plural and then of the singular in
this extraordinary narrative will give the candid
reader a sufficient hint of the composite character of
the Pentateuch. The narrator must have had more
than one of the legendary tales that were still floating
in his day before him when he wrote (and he could
not have written until after the times of more than
one of the Jewish kings), and has here, as in so many
other places, performed his task of editor indifferently.
Abraham left alone with Jehovah, what takes place
between them ?
The notable parley in which the man Abraham
tries to turn his God Jehovah from his purpose of de
stroying Sodom and Gomorrah. “ Wiltjthou destroy
the righteous with the wicked ?” asks the Patriarch
�Genesis : Abraham.
6J
of the Lord. “Peradventure there be fifty righteous
within the city ; far be it from thee to slay the right
eous with the wicked,—and shall not the judge of all
the earth do right ?” “ If I find fifty righteous in
Sodom, then will I spare all the place for their sake,”
replies Jehovah, according to the Hebrew scribe.
. Abraham would make still better terms for the
city, and continues perseveringly, saying :
“ Peradventure there shall lack five—ten—twenty
forty of the fifty and Jehovah says : “ I will not
destroy it for ten’s sake.” “ And Jehovah went his
way as soon as he had left communing with^Abra
ham.”
What are we in the present day, with our ideas of
the immanent ubiquity and necessarily impersonal
nature of God, to think of such a tale as this, and of
words bandied in such a way between man and the
Deity ?
The tale is doubtless another of the myths or legends
transmitted orally from remote antiquity and pre
served by an over-scrupulous editor from the oblivion
it so well deserved, if by its means it were intended
to convey any true or possible idea of God’s proce
dure in his dealings with mankind and the world.
Man does not bandy words with God ; neither does
he attempt to fix the Supreme on the horns of a
dilemma by a series of Socratic questions, each reply
to each succeeding query leaving the respondent more
m the wrong than he had been before. God’s acts
are not in time, but from eternity; they are not con
sequences, whether in advance or in recall of ante
cedent purposes. . God, moreover, does never in any
human sense punish, neither by condoning misdeed
does he ever forgive the guilty. [Are there ten
guilty persons in a great city, they suffer for them
selves, if their guiltiness be through violation of anv of
God s laws ; and ten thousand guiltless persons, their
fellow-citizens, would not save them from paying the
�64
The Pentateuch.
penalty of their sin. Unhappily the opposite does
not hold; for one reckless and guilty person violating
a natural law may cause the death of many,—a truth
of which terrible illustrations are offered in the explo
sions that so frequently occur in coal mines and
powder mills.
Proceeding with the tale as delivered, we now find
“ two angels,” two of the “three men” presumably
who had been entertained by Abraham, going on to
Sodom, where they are met and waited on by Lot
much in the same way as they had been by his
brother Abraham. What next befals ?
The narrator, as if to show how well the doomed
city deserved its impending fate, presents us with
such a picture of the state of morals and customs pre
vailing among its inhabitants as it seems impossible
in these our days even to imagine; Lot and his
family, the parties excepted from the ruin hanging
over their homes, by their after-doings appearing in
scarcely a more favourable light than their detestable
fellow-townsmen.
Must not the nineteenth chapter of the Book of
Genesis be regarded by us as a most extraordinary
element in a volume said by ecclesiastics, and gene
rally believed, to be given by God to the world for
its edification in morals and furtherance in religious
knowledge ?
Looked at with the eye of reason, it can be seen in
no other light. So gross and offensive ar e most of
the particulars it contains, that they cannot here be
mentioned openly. But to proceed: Lot and his
family forewarned, escape from Sodom and flee to
Zoar, and then, the sun being risen upon the earth,
Jehovah rained upon Sodom and Gomorrah brimstone
and fire from Jehovah out of heaven, and overthrew
these cities, and the plain, and all their inhabitants,
and all that grew upon the ground—the innocent with
the guilty consequently—infants and young children,
�Genesis: Sodom and Gomorrah.
6$
as well as the grown men and women, all wicked
alike, for among them, from what is said, there conld
not have been found ten that were innocent, else had
the cities been saved. The destruction was indiscri
minate, and the Jewish God Jehovah himself its
agent! Lot, however, has escaped with his family to
Zoar, where he did not long remain, but quitting the
little town, he went and dwelt with his daughters in
a cave—hard by, we may presume.
What happened there ?
That of which it shames us to speak. The daugh
ters, as though the destruction of Sodom and Gomor
rah had been attended with effects as far reaching as
the flood of Noah, are made to speak as if their father
were the only man left alive in the world. To satisfy
a brutal appetite, they are said in this book of the
Jewish law, accepted by Christian men and women
as inspired by God, to have made their father drunk
with wine, and to have sought his bed in succession,
the consequence of which is that they both conceive
and bear sons, who respectively become in after years
the progenitors of the Moabites and Ammonites,
What may be the possible meaning of this foul tale ?
The Moabites and Ammonites — cognate Semitic
tribes, speaking the same, or dialects of the same, lan
guage as the Hebrews, were among the number of
those whom the Israelites dispossessed of their lands
and reduced to slavery, when they did not take their
lives. A vile and unnatural origin had to be devised
in after times by way of excuse for the ills which
these unfortunate peoples were made to suffer in an
age gone by. The daughters of Lot were little worthy
of the favour shown them in their escape from Sodom
reduced to ashes; but they were wanted by the writer
as parts in the machinery of his story.
The wife of Lot escaped with her husband and
daughters from the burning, but came to an extraor
dinary end nevertheless ?
�66
The Pentateuch.
She, according to the veracious historian, for having
looked back upon the burning town, was turned into
a pillar of salt upon the plain, where, if we may be
lieve the traveller who has an eye for the marvellous,
she is still to be seen I The transformation, inflicted
for a natural and innocent impulse, was as severe as
it was extraordinary, no parallel to which, we may
believe, has since occurred ; though men do still look
fondly back upon the homes they are leaving, when
sad necessity or prescriptive tyranny—worse than
fire from heaven—devotes them to destruction. But
the tale of Sodom and Gomorrah is a myth—an idea
furnished with accessories and embodied in language.
Were such towns ever in existence, as they may well
have been, and destroyed in the manner described, it
could only have happened by the eruption of a volcano
now extinct, like those outbursts of Vesuvius which
desolated Pompeii and Herculaneum in more recent
times, and of other burning mountains which still
bring desolation and loss of life over many parts of
the earth’s surface. But the Jews, as we have already
had occasion to observe, ascribed every event in both
natural and human history to the immediate agency
of their God Jehovah, believing as they did that all
the calamities which befel nations as well as indivi
duals were punishments for acts displeasing to him.
Assuming Sodom and Gomorrah to have been over
whelmed by a volcanic eruption in very remote times,
therefore, was it said, must their inhabitants have been
a wicked and abominable race; and further, as the
lands of the Moabites and Ammonites were usurped
by the children of Israel, so were the Moabites and
Ammonites the spawn of the incestuous intercourse
detailed.
We have additional evidence of this Jewish view of
the special providential ordering of things by Jehovah,
immediately after the story about Sodom and Gomor
rah, and about Lot and his daughters, have we not ?
�Genesis: Abraham and Isaac.
67
It is now that we meet with the tale of Abraham’s
second denial of Sarah as his wife,—on this occasion
to Abimelech, King of Gerar ; and we learn that
Jehovah “ visited Sarah, as he had said, and did unto
her as he had spoken,” Jehovah being thus made, as
it were, the immediate agent in the matter, for now
it was that Sarah “ conceived and bare a son to Abra
ham in his old age.”
Abraham was mindful of the terms of the covenant
entered into with him by Jehovah ?
He was : when his son was eight days old he was
duly circumcised and named Isaac by his father,
on the day on which all that opened the womb
according to more ancient custom were sacrificed on
the altar of burnt offering. Seven days was the first
born, whether of man or beast, to be with the mother
or dam ; on the eighth it must be given, as his due for
the increase and as the price of future favours of the
like kind, to the Reproductive Principle in Nature
conceived as Deity.
Circumcision was not all that was required in the
case of mankind in after times, when the religious
system of the Israelites came to be formulated, and a
priesthood established ?
Then had the first-born of man, besides parting
with his foreskin, to be further redeemed by a certain
price in money. The first-born of beasts might be
sacrificed or redeemed at the option of those into
whose herds or flocks they were born, with the single
exception of the ass, which was on no account to be
offered on the altar, but in case it was not redeemed,
was to be put to death by having its neck broken,—
that is, by being thrown from a height and killed.
The single exception of the ass as unavailable for
sacrifice on the altar of the Hebrew God, and the
peculiar mode in which it is ordered to be put to
death, seem to require explanation ?
Which may be found in the fact that the ass, both
�68
The Pentateuch.
in Ancient Egypt and Palestine, was looked on in the
light of an animal at once sacred and accursed. In.
Palestine he long supplied the place of the horse, and
was in regular use for the saddle as well as beast
of burthen ; but in Egypt he was sacred to Typhon,
the brother and enemy of Osiris, and was the victim
especially devoted to him, the mode of his sacrifice
being that which is commanded in the Hebrew Scrip
tures. Typhon himself, generally figured in Egyp
tian sculptures with the head of the swine, is some
times also met with having the head of the ass ; and
among the Egyptian drawings there is a very singular
one in which Horus has Typhon with the ass’s head
by the ear, and is belabouring him with the staff he
has in his hand—z.e., the early Spring or Summer Sun
has vanquished his enemy Winter.1
The system of redeeming by money instead of con
suming by fire was certainly a mighty step in advance,
and, once entered on, was likely to be vigorously en
forced in view of the revenue it brought to the priest
hood. But there must have been a certain reluctance
on the part of Abraham’s God to forego his ancient
right to the first-born of the patriarch’s posterity ?
It would seem so by the record, at all events. Isaac
had certainly a narrow escape from sublimation by
fire, and being sent in the way of a sweet savour as
food to the God of his father.
What says the tale ?
After his departure from Abimelech of Gerar,
Elohe, it is said, did tempt Abraham, saying: “Take
now thy son, thine Only (Jahid, Hebrew, used as a
noun), whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land
of Moriah, and offer him there for a burnt-offering
upon one of the mountains which I shall tell thee of.”
1 See Moyers: Die Phoenizier, B. I. See also a Paper by
Herr Hirt in Abhand. der Histor-Philolog. Klasse der Acad,
d. Wissensch. zu Berlin aus den Jahren, 1820—21. S. 165.
�Genesis : Abraham and Isaac.
6g
Does Abraham express surprise at this extraordi
nary command of his God Elohe ?
. Not any; he rises up early in the morning, saddles
his ass, cleaves wood for the burnt-offering, and sets
out on the journey. After three days’ travel he sees
the place of the sacrifice afar off, bids the attendants
he had with him remain with the ass where they
were, whilst he and the lad should “go yonder and
worship, and come again to them.” Abraham then
lays the wood for the burnt-offering on his son ; takes
fire in his hand and a knife, and they go on together.
Is Isaac passive whilst all this is done ?
Not entirely: he sees the fire and the wood and
the knife, but not the lamb for the sacrifice. His
father assures him, however, that Elohe will provide
himself a lamb for the burnt-offering. Arrived at
Mount Moriah, Abraham builds an altar, lays the
wood in order upon it, binds his son Isaac, lays him
on the pile, and raises the knife to complete the
sacrifice. But the angel of Jehovah (it is no longer
Elohe) calls to him out of heaven, and bids him
not to lay his hand upon the lad; “ for now,”
proceeds the angel, who,.as in other instances, is
seen to be Jehovah himself, “I know that thou
fearest. Elohe, seeing thou hast not withheld thy
son, thine only son from me.” Lifting up his eyes,
Abraham discovers a ram caught by the horns in a
thicket behind him, which he takes, slays, and pre
sents as a burnt-offering in the stead of his son.
This is an extraordinary story ! Can we, as reason
able and passably pious men, believe that God ever
tempts mankind,—ever commanded a father to make
a burnt-offering of his son ?
God? in bestowing on man the wonderful power of
paternity, has also put such feelings of tenderness
into his heart as makes the entertainment of such an
idea abhorrent to his nature. He who should now—
and, it is not unfair to presume, in the day also when
�7o
The Pentateuch.
the tale was written—imagine that he had received
an order from God to slay and make a burnt-offering
of his son would be treated as a madman, and merci
fully taken care of by his friends. Possessed of our
faculties and masters of ourselves, we are not mas
tered by distressing dreams and phantoms of the
night.
Isaac, however, as we see, was not sacrified, although
Abraham had received the express commands of his
God to make a burnt-offering of his son ?
No ; and this putting God in contradiction with himself, and the angel of Jehovah calling out of heaven,
relegates the story of the Temptation of Abraham to
its proper place among the myths and legends of hoar
antiquity. Our advanced conceptions of the nature of
Deity forbid us to think of God as tempting mankind,
as commanding and countermanding in a breath, as
calling out of heaven in any sense, or using human
speech otherwise than mediately through the mouth
of man.
What farther comment may be made on this tale ?
Had child-sacrifice lain outside the sphere of Hebrew
religious rites, as the modern Jews and bible-commen
tators all show themselves so eager to show that it
did, in face of Jehovah’s express order to sanctify to
him all that opened the womb both of man and beast,
such a commandment as that said to have been given
by God to Abraham could never have been imagined.
Had not human sacrifice been familiar to the Jewish
mind, as it undoubtedly was up to the time of the
Captivity, the Patriarch would have been depicted
rejecting the order to slay his son as the command
ment of a lying spirit.^
May not the tale have been contrived in relatively
modern times—after the Babylonian Captivity, for
instance—to declare that God had ceased to require
k Vide Vatke, Biblische Theologie, § 22, S. 276.
�Genesis: Abraham and Sarah.
71
the human victims as burnt-offerings to which he
had been so long accustomed, and that the will might
henceforth without offence be substituted for the
deed ?
The story of the temptation of Abraham has many
unquestionable marks of recent composition. It cer
tainly does not date from the period to which the
incidents among which it appears are referred; and
could indeed only have been invented in times when
the better spirits among the Jews had made the dis
covery that God delighted not in the blood of bulls
and rams, and still less in that of human beings.
Much has been made by modern theologians, in
connection with the Christian system, of the accre
dited command of God to Abraham to make a
sacrifice of his son ?
Very much. But God, as we have said, never com
mands his creatures to do aught that is not for their
own good, or the good of others; and the dogma
(entirely foreign to the spirit of the theistic morality
taught by Jesus of Nazareth) which makes of this
holy personage a sacrifice to satisfy Divine Justice,
assimilates the great God of Nature, the father of all
flesh, with the Phoenician El-Saturnus, Chronos, or
Molech, who was said himself actually to have sacri
ficed Jeud his only son—Jeud or Jehud—another
form of Jahid, Only.
Returning to the family affairs of the Patriarch,
we do not find that Sarah, blessed with a son of her
own, shows herself any way better disposed towards
Hagar, her handmaid, than she had been when she
was barren and childless ?
It is Sarah’s turn now to mock Hagar, the
Egyptian. “ Cast out this bond-woman and her
son,” she says to Abraham, “ for her son shall not
be heir with my son, even with Isaac.”
Abraham does not surely yield to this cruel sug
gestion of the spiteful and ungrateful woman ?
�72
The Pentateuch.
Although the thing, as said, was very grievous in
his sight, because of the lad, and because of the bond
woman, nevertheless, and as the story goes, having
God’s sanction for what he did, he yields to Sarah;
and charging Hagar with some bread and a bottle of
water, he turns her and her son—his own son, too—
Ishmael, out into the wilderness to perish, as he must
have known, and. where, but for the discovery of a
well of water when she and her child were reduced
to extremity, she must inevitably have died.
Hagar, however, is again succoured in time,
although how or by whom—unless it were by the
mythical angel of Jehovah as before, we are not in
formed. But Ishmael and his mother, after this,
disappear from the scene, and the whole interest is
concentrated on the Patriarch of the Hebrew people
and his son Isaac. There is an incident now men
tioned, which enables us, with the lights we possess,
to see Abraham as no more the exclusive worshipper
of the God El or El-schaddai of his forefathers than
he is of the more recently introduced Jehovah ?
He plants a tree by the well Beer-sheba, and there
calls on the name of Jehovah.
What may be the meaning of this ?
The word usually translated Grove in our English
version of the Hebrew Scriptures mostly signifies a
tree or a pillar of wood, when it does not mean the
divinity of whom the tree or pillar was the symbol—
the Aschera, Astarte, or Ashtaroth of Phoenicia, the
Mylitta of Babylonia, the Aphrodite of Greece, the
Venus of Rome, the Syria Dea of Lucan, personifica
tion of the passive element in the reproductive
principle of nature, usually associated with Baal the
Sun-God or active generative principle and object of
adoration with all the peoples of the ancient world.
Abraham, in planting a tree by the well of Beer-sheba,
the well itself significant of fertility, made an offering
to the God of Increase; and meets us here, as he must
�Genesis : Isaac and Rebekah.
73
have been in fact, if hot wholly mythical, as the Arab
Shiek, the worshipper of the Gods of his Fathers, not of
the Jehovah of post-Davidic times, when the Thora or
Code of Law ascribed to Moses had been compiled,
and the Temple of Jerusalem declared the only shrine
at which offerings acceptable to the Deity could be
brought.
-Sarah dies when she is a hundred and twenty-seven
years old, according to the record; and Abraham
buys of Ephron the son of Zohar, one of the sons
of Heth, the cave of Machpelah as a burying place
in the land of Canaan where he is sojourning. Well
stricken in years himself, Abraham is now anxious to
see his son Isaac settled with a wife; but, unwilling
to have a daughter of the land of Canaan advanced to
this honour, he despatches a trusty servant, whom he
binds by an oath, to Mesopotamia, his native country,
there, from among the number of his own kindred,
to find a helpmate for his son. The servant departs
with a handsome retinue of camels and attendants.
He entreats Jehovah-Elohim, the God of his master
Abraham, for good speed in his mission, and asks him
to let it come to pass that the one among the maidens
■who comes to draw water from the well, outside the
city of Nahor, by which he might halt, and to whom he
should say : “ Let down thy pitcher, I pray thee, that
I may drink,” and who should reply: “Drink, and I
will give thy camels drink also,” should be she whom
he—Jahveh-Elohim—had appointed for his servant
Isaac, “and thereby,” adds the envoy, ‘‘shall I know
that thou hast showed kindness to my master.” What
happens ?
Among others who come out to draw from the well
is Rebekah, daughter of JBethuel, son of Milcab,
Abraham’s brother Nahor’s wife, blood relation of
Isaac, consequently twice removed; and on Rebekah
it is that the choice falls ; for, asked for a draught
from her pitcher, she immediately repeats the words
�74
The Pentateuch.
which the envoy had resolved should be a sign from
Jehovah of his approval,—the Jews imagining that
their God interested himself even in the selection of
their wives !
The messenger enquires of Rebekah whose daughter
she is, and if there were room in her father’s house
where he and his troop might be lodged. Being in
formed that she is the daughter of Bethuel, and
assured that there was straw and provender and
lodging-room in her father’s house, he presents her
with the mystical gold ring, prototype of the gold
ring of the marriage ceremony among ourselves, and
having a significance then which it has no longer;
and beside the ring, he also presents her with brace
lets of price for her arms. What does Rebekah, on
the unexpected address of the stranger and the
presents she receives ?
She hastens home, informs the family of what has
passed, shows the ring and the bracelets, and
despatches her brother Laban to bid the stranger
welcome, and lead him • to the house. In short, the
parties speedily come to an understanding, and matters
are forthwith satisfactorily arranged, as though they
had been subject of anxious discussion long time
before. Rebekah by and by departs with the messen
ger as bride elect of Isaac, who meets her as with
her escort she draws near his father Abraham’s
tents, brings her to his late mother’s tent, where he
instals her; makes her his wife, loves her, and is com
forted after his mother Sarah’s death. What infor
mation have we now that seems to remove Abraham
out of the category of possible historical personages ?
He is said to have taken a second wife, Keturah
by name, and by her to have had a family of five
sons—of daughters, who may have been as many, no
mention is made—and only to have given up the ghost
when he was a hundred and seventy-five years old!
Is this credible ?
�Genesis : The Age of Man.
75
If we acknowledge the laws of nature, which are
the unimpeachable ordinances of God, to be changeless
as their author, we answer without misgiving : No,
it is not possible, and so is not credible.
What may be said of the extreme ages to which
men are said to have attained in these prehistoric
times—in these long by-gone ages of the world?
That the tales which transmit them are myths
which never had any foundation out of the imagina
tion of their inventors. Instead of getting shorter
and shorter as we come down the stream of time, it is
certain that human life has become longer and longer.
Savages and barbarous tribes are surrounded by num
berless conditions and circumstances adverse to life
that are mitigated in almost every instance, and in
many entirely removed, as progress is made in civili
sation and as appliances are discovered that minister
to the comfort and security of existence. There is
not only no prima facie likelihood that primaeval and
prehistoric man lived longer than the men of the
present day, but every presumption that life in by
gone ages of the world was much shorter on the
whole than it is now.
Have not certain recent scientific enquiries of un
questionable weight, resting on no fond imaginations
of poets, but on physiological grounds, definitively
settled the question, not only of the age that may
possibly be attained, but of the age that has ever been
attained, by man ?
We can now speak positively and say that, whilst
the life of man may possibly extend in rare and ex
ceptional instances to a hundred years, and even to
one, two, or three years beyond that term, the few of
all the millions born into the world who attain to
what all now agree in calling extreme old age, finish
their career between the limits of three-score and ten
and four-score and ten years.
So much for the men and women of the present
�The Pentateuch.
age, but what of those who lived in ages gone
by?
Neither are we without reliable records of the ages
at which they who flourished in these finished their
course on earth. The skulls of individuals taken
from the tombs of Sakara in Egypt, who died and
were buried some sixteen centuries before the date
assigned to the Deluge, or about the time when,
according to the Jewish accounts, the world was
created, show the same conditions of bone-structure
and dentition as the skulls of the men and women
who die at ages familiar to us at the present time.
The sutures of these old Egyptian crania are found to
approach obliteration in different degrees and to pre
sent other marks of age in exact conformity with
what is seen in the crania of persons who are known
to have died at certain ages among ourselves:—in
the younger heads the sutures are distinct, in the
older they are obliterated more or less completely,
and in the very old they are effaced. In the younger
heads, again, the teeth are more or less perfect, in the
older they are decayed or gone, precisely as among
ourselves in persons who die at every age between
childhood and seventy, eighty, or ninety years.
Have we not authentic information on this subject,
of even much higher antiquity than any imparted, by
Egyptian tombs, though their mummified occupants
lived so long ago as the second Dynasty of the
Pharaohs, or some centuries before the flood ?
We have; in the skulls that have of late years
been recovered from the drift, and dug out of caves
from under loads of stalagmite and breccia, whose
owners trapped and contended with the woolly rhino
ceros and mammoth, and disputed possession of their
sorry dwelling places with the cave bear and hysena—
all extinct at the present time. Carefully examined
and compared with recent crania, these skulls of indi
viduals who lived during the quaternary and towards
�Genesis : Esau and Jacob.
77
the close of the last great glacial period in the earth’s
history, so marvellously preserved through so many
thousands or hundreds of thousands of years, present
the same essential characters as those of the men and
women who die at the usual ages in the present day ;
and assure us that if they lived as long, they certainly
lived no longer than their descendants, the miners and
iron-workers of Belgium, who now people the soil
which once they trod.1
Returning to our story,-—what comes of the mar
riage of Isaac and Rebekah ?
As many of the incidents in the sacred writings of
the Hebrews are so commonly repeated in connection
with each new personage who comes upon the scene,
we might almost have anticipated that Rebekah, like
Sarah, would prove barren at first, but fruitful after
wards ; and so it falls out. Isaac, it is said, “ entreated
the Lord for his wife Rebekah,” so that she conceived
at last, and in due season brought forth twins—Esau
and Jacob.
What is there notable about these ?
Esau, the first born, it is said, was “ a red and
hairy man and became a cunning hunter; ” Jacob,
again, was “ a plain man, a dweller in tents, or living
much at home; ” and whilst Esau was loved of his
father, because of the venison he found him in the
chase, Jacob was loved of his mother.
What came of this unlike disposition in the youths^
and different likings of their parents ?
Returning faint and weary from hunting on a
certain occasion, Esau begged some of the pottage of
lentils which Jacob had sod and now got ready. But
the selfish Jacob, instead of sharing with his brother
and ministering to his wants, will only part with his
mess in return for Esau’s birthright as the elder born.
“Behold,” says Esau, “lam at the point to die, and
1 See Professor Owen’s admirable essay on Longevity in
Fraser s Magazine for February, 1872.
�78
The Pentateuch.
what profit shall this birthright do to me.” So he
bartered his birthright to Jacob for the lentil broth.
It was surely neither kind nor brotherly in Jacob
to profit by his brother’s state, faint for want, and
weary from the field ?
It certainly was not, but was of a piece with the
rest of Jacob’s character and procedure, as we
shall see.
What happens next ?
Isaac, grown old and his eyesight dim, calls his
eldest son Esau and bids him go into the field and
take him some venison, that he may have savoury
meat once more and find fitting occasion to give him
his blessing before he dies.
Whilst he is gone on this filial errand, what does
Rebekah, and to what iniquity does Jacob lend him
self?
Rebekah conspires with her favourite Jacob to
cheat the blind old man, her husband, and to rob
Esau, her first-born, of his father’s blessing. “ Go
now to the flock,” says Rebekah to her son Jacob,
“,and fetch me two good kids of the goats, and I will
make them savoury meat for thy father, such as he
loveth; and thou shall bring it to thy father that he
may eat and that he may bless thee before his
death.”
Does Jacob consent to this unfair suggestion of his
mother, or does he not rather object ?
He makes no objection, and is only fearful that the
plot may miscarry : “Behold,” says he, “Esau my
brother is a hairy man, and I a smooth man ; my
father peradventure will feel me, and I shall seem to
him as a deceiver, and I shall bring a curse upon me
and not a blessing.”
What answer makes Rebekah to this ?
She says: “ Upon me be the curse, my son, only
obey my voice and fetch me the kids.” This he does
forthwith, and she makes the savoury mess of the
�Genesis : Isaac and "Jacob.
79
kid’s meat such as old Isaac loved. She then takes
the goodly raiment of her elder son Esau and puts it
on Jacob, covers his hands and the exposed part of
his neck with the skins of the kids, and gives the
mess of meat and the bread she had prepared into his
hand. Thus disguised and furnished forth, Jacob
comes to his father and says : “ My father ! ” and he
says : “ Here am I, who art thou, my son ? ”
Jacob, conscience-stricken because of the unworthy
part he is playing, must surely answer truly now, and
say he is Jacob his father’s youngest son ?
No such thing. On the contrary, he lies egregiously,
and says: “ I am Esau, thy first-born; I have done
according as thou badest me. Arise, I pray thee;
sit and eat of my venison that thy soul may bless me.”
What answer makes Isaac ?
How is it, he asks, that thou hast found it so
quickly, my son ?
Jacob, for very shame, must needs now own the
imposition so far carried on successfully ?
By no means ; he plays the hypocrite now, as he is
playing the deceiver and has already proved himself
the liar, and answers his father’s question in these
solemn words : “ Jehovah, thy God, brought it to me.”
This is shocking ! Old blind Isaac, nevertheless,
seems to have had some misgivings about the party
who is addressing him, for he says: “ Come near me,
that I may feel thee, my son, whether thou be my
very son Esau or not. And Jacob went near to his
father, and he felt him and said : The voice is Jacob’s
voice, but the hands are the hands of Esau; and he
discerned him not, and so he blessed him.”
In spite of having gone so far, Isaac cannot yet
have been altogether satisfied of the identity of the
son before him ?
No; for he asks again: “Art thou my very son
Esau ?” and he (Jacob) said, “ I am.”
This reiteration of the lie seems to satisfy all the
�8o
Phe Pentateuch.
misgivings of the old man, for he now eats of the
mess prepared for him, and drinks of the wine set
before him, does he not ?
_ He does ; and bidding his son come near, he blesses
him saying: God give thee of the dew of heaven,
and the fulness of the earth, and plenty of corn and
wine; and let people serve thee, and nations bow
down to thee; be Lord over thy brethren, and let thy
mother s sons bow down to thee; cursed be every
one that curseth thee, and blessed be he who blesseth
thee.”
How fares it with Isaac when Esau returns from
the chase, brings his savory mess of venison to his
father, bids him arise and eat, and asks for his
blessing p
Isaac, it is said, trembled with a great trembling
and said : “ Who is he that hath taken venison, and
brought it to me, and I have eaten of -all before thou
earnest, and have blessed him ? ”
And Esau P
When he heard the words of his father he cried
with a great and exceeding bitter cry, and said—
“ Bless me, even me also, 0 my father! ”
Isaac yields to this passionate and natural appeal ?
Nay, indeed! Blessing in the olden time seems to
have been restricted to one ; for the old man replies :
“Thy brother came with subtilty, and hath taken
away thy blessing.”
Is Esau content ?
How should he! he says: “ Hast thou but one
blessing, my father ? bless me, even me, 0 my father,
and he lifted up his voice and wept.”
Esau was surely unfairly and cruelly dealt with in
all this ?
According to modern moral notions he was cheated
of his right; and common sense and justice alike
would now have required the thief to restore what
he had stolen. What motive can we imagine for
�Genesis : Isaac and 'Jacob.
8i
the story as it is told ? A mythological meaning, as
with many other parts of the Old Testament, has been
connected with the repeated supercession we encoun
ter of the elder by the younger born. As Night,
esteemed the eldest born of things, gave place to Day,
so it has been surmised is Cain superseded in his
sacrifice by Abel, Esau by Jacob in his birthright
and blessing, Ephraim by Manasseh, Aaron by Moses
in command, &c.
But Esau is said further to have been the progenitor
of the Edomites, a cognate tribe, and enemies of long
standing of the Jews; the poet or fabulist therefore
makes Esau sell his birthright for the mess of pottage
when he was hungry as a prelude to letting him of
his father’s blessing, in order that it might fall on
Jacob, from whom the Israelites themselves were
reputed to have sprung. The preliminary barter of
the birthright was doubtless held by the narrator,
as it has since been held by apologists for all the right
and wrong, the good and evil, that lie within the lids
of the Bible, as adequate to cover the subsequent
villanous artifices by which the blessing is filched
away; for it seems impossible, on simple moral apart
from prescriptive religious grounds, to conceive the
most consummate impersonation, whether of Jewish,
Christian, or Pagan selfishness and dishonesty, ap
proving the act of Jacob, or condoning the means
by which his object was accomplished.
The Jews would seem to have held that something
of a preternatural character pertained to a blessing,
which was not nullified by the means, however dis
honest, employed to obtain it ?
It appears so. Old Isaac himself, when he dis
covers that he has been imposed on, speaks not of
recalling his blessing, but says : “ I have blessed him
(Jacob), yea, and he shall be blessed.” But the
Jews believed, as we have already had occasion to
observe, that their God took a particular interest,
G
�82
Phe Pentateuch.
not only in them as a people at large, but in every
individual, and in the acts of every notable indi
vidual more especially, among them. They did
nothing, never entered on any undertaking, or came
to any conclusion, without “asking Jehovah,” -i.e.,
without drawing lots, consulting the Ephod or
Teraph im—domestic idols of which every household
appears to have had one or move, and receiving an
answer in approval. On the most solemn occasions
of all they seem to have referred the case to the High
Priest, who then had recourse to the Urim and Thummim he carried on his breast, and to the Sevenbranched Candlestick which was so important a part
of the furniture of the Altar, and in constant requisi
tion in casting nativities and other kinds of divi
nation.
Is not he who deceives his blind old father and filches
his brother’s birthright and blessing a villain, deserv
ing of present punishment and failure in his after
enterprises, rather than worthy of God’s peculiar
favour, of man’s approval, and of success in all he
purposes or puts his hand to ?
Morally judged he is so undoubtedly, but men
judge mostly by the success or failure that follows
action; and God is not truly, as he is commonly
thought to be, a kind of celestial potentate or chief
magistrate, with powers of prison and gibbet at com
mand. Jacob himself puts the legitimacy of the con
spiracy in which he engages with his mother on the
sole footing of its success, “ Peradventure,” says he,
“ my father will feel me, and I shall seem to him a
deceiver, and I shall bring a curse upon me and not
a blessing.” But he who acquires or gains his end,
no matter what it is, does so by conforming to the
natural law of acquisition, which has no bearing on
moral principles. The accumulator may be the most
heartless and unprincipled of mortals; but if he
steadily pursue his selfish ends and his purpose of
�Genesis: Jacob.
83
gathering to himself regardless of others, God will
not only not interfere to hinder him of success, but,
it may be said, will assuredly favour him in his ob
ject ; neither will his fellow-men say aught against
him if he but grow rich and keep on the safe side of
the statute law ; nay, they will not only say nothing
against, but will even fawn on and flatter him; per
chance even speak of raising a statue to him.
The Jews, far from seeing anything dishonourable
in the conduct of Jacob, even vaunt themselves on
their descent from the unbrotherly, untruthful, and
deceitful man ?
They do ; and making God a party to their ap
proval, they have always spoken of their tutelary
Deity Jehovah as the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and
of Jacob; so that successful selfishness and untruth
have sanctified to them the unrighteous means by
which the headship of the family was obtained.
Esau, wroth with his brother, hates him in his
heart, and old Isaac having now been gathered to his
people, he says : “ When the days of mourning for my
father are over, I will slay my brother Jacob.” Does
he take any steps to make good his threat ?
We have no information of any. But Rebekah has
overheard the rash words, and sends her darling Jacob
to Padan-Aram out of the way, until the easy Esau’s
anger should be abated, and he had forgotten, or shall
we say forgiven, the wrong that had been done him.
What befals Jacob on his way to Padan-Aram ?
He has a wonderful dream.
About his unbrotherly and unfilial conduct, doubt
less ; and the bad part he has played being brought
home to him, he resolves to make amends and restitut on to the extent in his power ?
Nothing of the kind! The sun having set, and the
night coming on, he makes a pillow of one of the
stones where he is, and lays him down to sleep.
And he dreams that he sees a ladder set on the earth
�84
’The Pentateuch,
■with its top reaching to heaven, up and down which
the angels of Elohim come and go, Jehovah himself
standing above and over all.
What then ?
Jehovah speaks and informs the dreaming man
that he is Jehovah, the God of Abraham and of Isaac
his father; that he will give the land on which he
lies to him and to his seed, which should be as the
dust of the earth, and prove a blessing to all the
families of the earth ; “ and,” continues the narrative,
“I am with thee and will keep thee in all the places
whither thou goest, and I will bring thee again into
this land, and will not leave thee until I have done
that which I have spoken to thee of.”
Jacob awakes ?
And says : “ Surely Jehovah is in this place and I
knew it not. This is none other but the house of
God, and this is the gate of heaven.” He then sets
up the stone on which he had pillowed his head as a
pillar, pours oil on its top by way of consecrating it
and calls the spot Beth-El—House of God, the name
of the place having at first been Luz (Lux, Light).
What may be the meaning of Jacob’s act ?
Stones, as enduring things, appear to have been
almost universally objects of reverence and worship
with men in the long-continued infancy of the human
mind. As pillars they had a special significance, and
were then looked on as typical of the instrument
efficient in the wonderful faculty possessed by living
creatures of reproducing their kind. The stone
column or token set up by Jacob was neither more
nor less than the Phallic emblem, before which he
and his forefathers were wont to prostrate themselves.m
And the oil he poured on its top was a further offerm Et verisimiliter semen eorum Numini sub symbolo phallico
culto proferre, sicut mos adhuc hodie est apud indigenos Ter
rarum Bengalensium.—Conf. Levit. xviii. 21, and xx. 2.
�Genesis: Jacob.
85
ing to the divine power it represented for fertility and
increase.
Has this respect or reverence for the stone pillar
as symbol of the reproductive principle in nature yet
died out from among men ?
By no means. The Jews through the whole of their
history, even to the time when the Temple of Solomon
was built, erected pillars of wood and stone to the
gods they worshipped—to Baal and Aschera in espe
cial, before which they presented their sacrifices, and
at the feet of whose altars they poured the blood of their
victims and their drink offerings. Nor can it be said
that the sacred stone, disguised as column, obelisk, or
steeple, has yet gone out of date, though its meaning
is no longer understood. The obelisk in front of St
Peter’s at Home and the spires of our churches are
emblematic of the same thing as the stone which
Jacob set up, as the columns erected on the “ high
places ” to Baal and Aschera, and as those that stood
before Solomon’s Temple. In certain districts of India
—the country that gave birth to so many of the reli
gious ideas and to all the philosophy of the world—
at the present time every village has its sacred stone
usually set up under the shade of'a Tree, upon which
newly-married and barren women come and seat them
selves after pouring a libation of ghee or oil on its
top. Neither was the sacred stone left out of the
reckoning by our own forefathers in the olden time.
The King was not held as duly installed in his office
unless he were seated on a stone, hence our Saxon
King's-stone still to be seen railed about in the town
of Kingston-on-Thames; the Scotch King’s-stone car
ried away from Scone by Edward III., and now
preserved in Westminster Abbey under the rude chair
which served for a throne; London-stone still notable
in Gannon Street; and, to go farther afield, the black
stone of the Gaaba of Mecca, to prostrate themselves
before which come the thousands of Moslems annually
�86
The Pentateuch.
from their distant homes, there to have the seal affixed
as it were to their title-deed to heaven. Nor is the
anointing in many instances omitted; the consecra
tion of the king and priest is not held complete with
out the application of the chrism or holy oil; and the
poorest adherent of the Church of Rome has extreme
unction at last by way of passport for the journey from
which there is no returning. These are all plainly
lingering remnants of a symbolical worship that was
once universal in the world, and of which the mean
ingless traces might now, as it seems, advantageously
disappear from among us.
Having set up and consecrated his token, Jacob
vows a vow ?
Saying : “ If Elohe will be with me, and keep me
in the way I go, and give me bread and raiment so
that I come again to my father’s house, then shall
Jehovah be my God, and this stone which I have set
up for a token shall be God’s house.” Jacob’s God,
we are therefore to conclude, had heretofore been El,
Elohe or El-shaddai; but, were his prayer granted,
he would then take Jehovah in his stead. Here it is
impossible to overlook the hand of the late Jehovistic
writer. Jehovah was the peculiar Deity of the postexilic reforming party among the Jews, and it could
not but be of the highest moment to him and to them
to exhibit their chief patriarch as a worshipper of their
God. But Jacob, if there ever really lived such a
personage, could never have heard of the Jewish
Jehovah; El, El-Shaddai, or some other of the El
compounds was the name of the God he worshipped.
Jacob, in fact, bargains with the Supreme Being as
he had bargained with Esau for the mess of pottage
in lieu of the birthright ?
He is made to do so, at all events. If God will do
so and so, then will he, Jacob, on his part do so and
so in return. To conciliate Jehovah, the God of the
writer, Jacob is presented to us as ready to give up
�Genesis; Jacob.
87
his own old familiar God or Gods, El or Elohim.
Jacob always meets us as a dealer or bargain-maker;
but shows himself ready in the present instance to
give an equivalent, or what he seems to have thought
was an equivalent, for the benefits he expected him
self to receive. “ Of all that thou shalt give me I
will surely give the tenth unto thee,” is the con
cluding item in the compact he enters into with his
God—a clause added, we cannot doubt, by a still later
hand, one of a brotherhood who never lose sight of
their own interest.
The terms do not seem over liberal ?
As regards God the giver of AU they have no
meaning; as regards the priesthood, who here stand
for the Thou and the Thee, they are even more than
liberal.
Do tithes, of which so much has since been made,
appear to have been originally bestowed for the pecu
liar benefit of the priesthood, or the church they
represented ?
By no means. The tithe of the corn and oil and
wine which the land produced, and of the flocks and
herds of the year, was to be solemnly eaten by the
people themselves in the holy place, that they might
learn to fear Jehovah. Tithe was, in fact, to be dedi
cated to rejoicing and merry-making. Were the place
too far off which J ehovah should choose for the festive
occasion, the tithe of all was then to be turned into
money, and the money spent “on whatsoever their
souls lusted after.” (Deut. xiv. 22, et seq.) The
widow, the fatherless, and the stranger also were to
share, and the Levite, as having no possessions, was
not to be forgotten. But none of the tithe was to be
expended on occasions of mourning, nor was aught of
it to be given for the dead (Deut. xxvi. 14); i.e., it
was not to be spent on the articles of meat and drink
with which the dead among so many peoples in the
olden time were provided for the journey to the dis-
�88
Phe Pentateuch.
taut land, the place of disembodied spirits. Taking
the last quoted text for a guide, the clergy of the
Church of Rome might possibly see the impropriety
of levying contributions on their flocks for masses
and prayers for the dead.
Jacob proceeds on his journey and comes to Haran,
where he makes acquaintance with his kinsfolk on
the mother’s side, having halted by a well, precisely
as Isaac’s messenger had done. As with Rebekah,
so now with Rachel, the younger of Laban’s two
daughters, who comes to the well to water her father’s
sheep. Jacob is smitten with the damsel, falls in
love with her as matter of course, is presented to
Laban her father, and agrees (another bargain) to
serve seven years with him for Rachel as his wife.
This he does fairly and truly, but he is deceived by
Laban at the end of the term, he substituting his
elder daughter Leah for Rachel the younger, the be
trothed, on the bridal night. What happens when
Jacob discovers that he has been imposed on ?
He complains to Laban of the trick that has been
played him, and says : “ Did not I serve with thee for
Rachel ; wherefore then hast thou beguiled me ? ”
What says Laban to this ?
He replies that the younger must not be given in
marriage before the first-born ; but he adds : “ Fulfil
her (Leah’s) week and we will give thee this (Rachel)
for the service which thou shalt serve with me for
yet seven years.”
Jacob accepts the terms ?
He does ; fulfils his week manfully with Leah, and
Laban then gives him his second daughter to wife
also.
The Jews of old must have been less fastidious in
such matters than folks of the present day ; where in
all civilised communities a man may not only not have
two wives, and still less two sisters as wives, living
with him at the same time—which the Jews them-
�Genesis: Jacob.
89
selves in later days did not allow,—conditions all of
them reasonable enough; but a man may not now
marry the sister of a deceased wife,—a prohibition
altogether unreasonable; for not only is there no
consanguinity between the man and the woman
here which might prove a legitimate bar to their
union, but there is the strong and natural tie between
the living sister and the children—if children there
be—of her who has prematurely passed away. What
is the upshot of the double marriage ?
Leah, who has been imposed on Jacob, naturally
enough is not loved by him as he loves Rachel; but
“when Jehovah,” according to the text, “ saw that
Leah was hated, he (in requital) opened her womb ; ”
but Rachel, like Sarah, the mother of Isaac, and
Jacob’s mother Rebekah, is barren at first—for there
is incessant iteration of like incidents in these
mythical and legendary tales—and only, like the re
markable women referred to, fruitful at length.
Rachel, barren herself for a time, and envious of
her fruitful sister, in imitation of Sarah with Hagar,
doubtless, gives her handmaid Bilhah to her hus
band as a concubine or third wife, and she conceives
and bears Jacob two sons in succession.
There is more of this, is there not ?
. Plenty; Leah having ceased bearing, as she ima
gined, after having given Jacob four sons, follows her
sister’s example, and gives her handmaid Zilpah as
a second concubine or fourth wife to her husband;
and she too, like Bilhah, presents the Patriarch with
two sons one after- the other.
What farther ?
It were neither edifying nor seemly to proceed with
particulars; for the tale is now of Jacob cohabiting
with one and then with another of his wives or con
cubines, and next of Leah—fruitful again through
eating mandrakes, it is said, found for her in the
wheat-field by her son Reuben, so that she adds a
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The Pentateuch.
fifth and a sixth son. and a daughter to the four she
had already presented to her lord.
And Rachel F
All in good time ! As Jehovah by our text had seen
that Leah was hated and had opened her womb by
way of return, so does he now remember Rachel in
her yearnings for offspring: “ Give me children or else
I die,” she had said to Jacob in her passion; and
though Jacob’s anger is kindled against her, and he
has said : “ Am I in God’s stead who hath withheld
from thee the fruit of thy womb F ” he continues to
cohabit with her, and she, having partaken of her
sister’s mandrakes, becomes a mother at last, bears a
son whom she calls Joseph, and exclaims in her joy :
“ God hath taken away my reproach ; ” for the Jews
held barrenness in woman to be a sign of imperfection
and incapacity, if not even of the divine displeasure.
What is the mandrake which Reuben found for his
mother Leah, and to which such virtue is ascribed F
The Hebrew word translated mandrake in our ver
sion, is rendered “Mele mandragora” by the Greeks,
and is commonly said to be the love apple or tomato ;
but this is probably a mistake. The mandrake was a
tap-root plant of some sort; and the name is still
given by our unlettered herbalists to the root of the
white bryony—a drastic purgative, however, not cal
culated, as it might seem, to provoke appetite or aid
conception, as the Jews believed.
Jacob having now secured his wives and concubines,
and with a numerous offspring rising about him,
grows weary of his servitude to Laban and notifies
his desire to be gone—what says Laban to this F
Laban would have him tarry, and bids him name
his own terms if he will consent to do so.
What says Jacob to the offer F
He boasts of the advantage his service has already
proved to Laban : “It was little thou hadst when I
came, and now it is increased into a multitude,” is the
�Genesis : Jacob.
gi
prelude io his proposition for payment not in money
but in kind : those among the goats that were already
or that should be born ring-streaked, speckled or
spotted, and those among the sheep that were brown,
were to be for his hire.
Laban consents ?
He does : the flocks are shed and Jacob’s parti
coloured lots are driven off under the care of his sons,
three days’ journey from Laban’s white or self
coloured cattle.
What device does the artful Jacob practise now ?
He peels him white streaks in green rods of poplar,
hazel and chesnut, which he sets up in the watering
troughs of the sheep and goats; and so arranges
matters that the females shall only conceive when
they come to drink, the consequence of which is, as
said, that the young produced are mostly ringstreaked, spotted and speckled.
Jacob, the wily, does yet more than this ?
He does; and always with an especial eye to his
own advantage and something like his father-in-law
Laban’s disadvantage : he only puts his peeled rods
in the watering-troughs when the strongest of the
cattle are about to become pregnant; “ when the
cattle were feeble he put them not in,” says the text,
which continues : “ and so the feebler were Laban’s,
and the stronger Jacob’s.”
This does not seem over and above honest in Jacob ?
It is everything but honest; it is shamefully and
barefacedly dishonest. It may be condoned, indeed,
by referring to the old Jewish law of an eye for an
eye, a tooth for a tooth, for Laban had unquestionably
imposed on Jacob, and Jacob may be said to have but
paid him back in his own coin: “If my father cheat
me, I shall cheat my father,” said, or is said to have
said,, a distinguished member of the Jewish com
munity among ourselves, dealing largely in foreign
securities, in days not long gone by.
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The Pentateuch.
There is another version of this notable story, as
of so many more in the Hebrew Scriptures ?
There is, and with different, circumstances; for
Jacob is now absolved of any need to have recourse
to craft or to play the part of dishonest herdsman.
Here Jacob complains to his wives Leah and Rachel,
the sisters, that their father Laban had withdrawn
his countenance from him, had changed his wages
ten times, saying now that the speckled, and then,
that the ring-streaked cattle should be his portion;
“ but the God of my father,” he proceeds, “ has been
with me, and suffered him not to hurt me ; for if he
said : the speckled shall be thy wages, then all the
cattle bare speckled ; and if he said thus : the ringstreaked shall be thy share, then bare all the cattle
ring-streaked; and thus God hath taken away the
cattle of your father and given them to me.”
This is surely making too familiar a use of God’s
presumed interference in the affairs of men ?
It is in strict conformity, however, with antique
Jewish notions that God took immediate part in even
the most minute and intimate relations of their lives;
and, farther, that the Supreme had favourites, irre
spective of merit, among the children of men. The
old J ewish writers had no conception of a world, and
of man as one of its elements, ruled by great universal,
eternal, and necessary laws, expression to the culti
vated mind of to-day of the power and true providence
Jacob has a dream besides, that may have put him
on the natural way of securing ring-streaked and
speckled cattle for himself without having recourse
to the questionable procedure of the peeled rods ?
The angel of Jehovah, he tells his sister-wives,
spake with him in a dream, saying : “ Jacob ! and I
said : Here am I. And he said: See, all the rams
which leap the cattle are ring-streaked, speckled and
griseled, and I have seen all that Laban doeth unto
�Genesis• Jacob.
93
thee ; I am the God of Beth-El, where thou anointedst
the pillar and vowedst a vow unto me. Now, arise ;
get thee out from this land, and return into the land
of thy kindred.”
Eave we any fact that might help to explain the
myth of the peeled rods used by Jacob in securing
the increase of his part among the flocks ?
It is not uninteresting to observe that the figure
of the man who holds the scales with one hand in
the sign of Libra on some of the oldest of the Zodiacs
has a streaked rod or rule in the other. Now, Sep
tember, the month in which the sun entered Libra in
former times, is that also in which the ewes begin to
conceive; whence it has been conjectured that the
Hebrew writer was taking hints from the pictorial
calendar for the composition of his story.
What say the wives to the communication of
Jehovah, which may, nevertheless, very well reflect
Jacob’s own waking thoughts and aspirations ?
Seeing, as they say, that they “ have no longer any
portion or inheritance in their father’s house and are
counted of him as strangers, for he hath sold us and
quite devoured also our money; for all the riches
which God hath taken from our father is ours and our
children’s ; therefore whatsoever God hath said unto
thee, do.”
Laban certainly has not shown himself a strictly
honest man in his dealings with the husband of his
daughters ; but they in turn seem to show little of the
love and devotion naturally to be looked for in chil
dren to their parent ?
This is true: they forget the long years' through
which their father fed and housed and clothed them.
In conformity with the notions of their age, however,
they are made to ascribe the increasing poverty of
their father to the displeasure, and the growing
wealth of their husband to the favour of their God.
The device of the rods, were God like the impar-
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The Pentateuch.
tial judge we look for among ourselves, would have
brought punishment on Jacob, not yielded him re
ward ?
Premeditated and deliberate dishonesty is the
worst of dishonesties, and selfishness is a mean and
sorry vice ; but the punishment and the reward are
with man, not with God, save as he is represented by
man.
Jacob hearkens to the counsel of his wives ?
He does forthwith: setting his family on camels
and stealing away without a word to his father-inlaw Laban, who has gone sheep-shearing and hears
nothing of the flight for several days, he turns his
face towards Gilead with all he has, and there arrived
he pitches his tents.
Beside what might be called her own, has not
Rachel taken some things that did not rightfully
belong to her ?
She has “ stolen the Images that were her
father’s.”
Images in the possession of Laban, descendant in
the direct line from Nahor Abraham’s brother, father
of Leah and Rachel the wives of Jacob, the son of
Isaac, the son of Abraham ! This is unlooked for in
formation. The man must have been an Idolater ?
The story seems plainly to say as much. But were
ever the Hebrews, either then or for centuries after
wards, anything but Fetish worshippers ?
They declared emphatically in later times that they
were the chosen people of Jehovah, their God; and
their descendants, exiles from the land that was pro
mised to them as an inheritance for ever, and scattered
over the face of the habitable globe, still believe them
selves to be so. This is wonderful enough, all things
considered; but still more wonderful is the fact, that
the European communities have continued so long to
take them at their word, and to look on them as wor
shippers of the One God.
�Genesis: Jacob.
95
Laban, absent from home, hears nothing of the flight
of Jacob and his wives for three days ; but informed
of it at length, and missing his property and his house
hold gods, he sets out in pursuit seven days’
journey, intending recovery doubtless of the things
abstracted, if not more serious reprisals. Before
coming up with the fugitives on Mount Gilead, how
ever, he has a communication from Elohim—God.
God, it is said, visited Laban the Aramaean in a
dream by night, and admonished him to speak neither
good nor bad to Jacob, so that when he overtook him
at length, heonly ventured to reproach him with having
stolen away with his daughters as captives taken with
the sword, and adds : Though thou wouldst be gone,
because thou sore longedst for thy father’s house, yet
wherefore hast thou stolen my gods ?
Jacob, unaware of this particular theft, denies it:
“With whomsoever thou findest thy gods,” he says,
“ let him not live.” So Laban searches for his gods
throughout the encampment, but in vain; for Rachel,
the thief, has secreted them in the camels’ furniture
and sat down upon them ; and as she excuses herself
from rising because of a certain natural visitation—
the nature of which she is not so delicate as not to
explain—the gods cannot be found.
This gives Jacob an opportunity to turn round on
Laban, and to be wroth with him ?
An opportunity he is not slow to improve : “ What
is my trespass,” says he, “ what is my sin that thou
hast so hotly pursued after me.” Boasting of his long
and faithful service, he says roundly to his father-inlaw : “ Except the God of my father, the God of
Abraham and the fear of Isaac had been with me,
thou hadst surely sent me now empty away. God
hath seen my affliction and the labour of my hands,
and rebuked thee yester-night.”
How could Jacob know this ?
There is no difficulty, the familiar terms considered
�96
The Pentateuch.
upon which the Patriarchs were with their God, who
may have informed him !
Laban is appeased, and says to Jacob: Now there
fore, let us make a covenant, I and thou, and let it be
for a witness between me and thee. What does
Jacob ?
He takes a stone and sets it up for a pillar, and the
two parties, heaping stones about it, call it Galeed
and Mizpah, for it is to be at once a witness and a
landmark between them, Laban stipulating for good
treatment for his daughters, and that no other wives
should be taken by Jacob to afflict them, and both
agreeing that neither he nor Jacob should pass
beyond the heap to do each other harm. Laban then
kisses his sons and his daughters, blesses them, and
returns to his place, whilst Jacob offers sacrifice upon
the mount where he is encamped.
What is the next interesting incident in the history
of the patriarch Jacob ?
Proceeding on his way and meeting “ the angels
of_, God ” in a place he calls Mahanai'm, he thence
dispatches messengers to his brother Esau whom he
had so grievously wronged, then dwelling in Seir in
the land of Edom, and bids them say “ unto my Lord
Esau” that “ his servant Jacob ” is in his territory
and hopes to find grace in his sight.
Well ?
S
The messengers return to Jacob and report to him
that . his brother Esau, informed of his coming, is
on his way to meet him with a great retinue of men,
four hundred in number.
And Jacob ?
Conscience-stricken and fearing his brother’s anger,
when he hears of the great attendance, he divides his
people and his flocks into two ; lest Esau coming with
hostile purpose smite the one company, then the other
should escape.
What more ?
�Genesis : Jacob and Esau.
gj
He prays to his God, as men mostly do in straits
and difficulties ; reminds him of the promises already
made and of the order to return into his own country
now in course of being obeyed, and owns himself un
worthy of all the favour shown him. “ With my
staff,” says he, “ I passed over this Jordan, and now
I am become two bands; deliver me, I pray thee,
from the hand of my brother Esau, for I fear him,
lest he come and smite me and the mother with
the children. And thou saidst I will surely do thee
good, and make thy seed as the sand of the sea which
cannot be numbered for multitude.”
Jacob must needs think that his God required to
be reminded of his promises ?
It plainly enough appears so ; but Jacob’s idea of
God was very different from that of the enlightened
of the present day ; although not very different per
haps from that still entertained by the vulgar and
uninformed.
To conciliate his brother Esau, Jacob makes ready
a handsome present in conformity with oriental
usage ?
A very handsome present, indeed, which he sends
on before, he himself following at the head of the
train with the handmaids and their children
in the van, Leah and her children next, Rachel
and Joseph last of all—the least cherished there
fore in front, the dearest in the rear, lest Esau
should prove hostile.
How does Jacob comport himself in presence of his
brother ?
Lifting up his eyes and seeing Esau coming on
with his numerous escort, be advances and “ bows
himself seven times to the ground as he draws neai’
his brother.”
And Esau ?
“Esau ran to meet his brother Jacob” who had
bargained away from him his birthright and stolen
H
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The Pentateuch.
from him his father’s blessing, “ and embraced him,
and fell upon his neck and kissed him, and they
wept.”
Esau must have been of a kindly and forgiving
nature ?
Surely he was so, or he is made to appear so by
the writer who tells the tale ; generous too, was Esau,
and open and honourable. “ Who are all these
belonging to thee,” he inquires of his brother ; and
his brother answers : “ The children which God hath
graciously given thy servantand they all bowed
themselves ; and after came Rachel and Joseph, and
they bowed themselves. And he inquired further :
“ What meanest thou by all this drove which I met ?”
And Jacob answered : “ These are to find grace in the
sight of my lord.”
And Esau, to the cringing and fair-faced show of
his brother ?
Answers : “ I have enough, my brother, keep that
thou hast unto thyself.”
To which Jacob ?
Replies : “ Nay, I pray thee ; if now I have found
grace in thy sight then receive my present at my
hand ; for I have seen thy face as though I had seen
the face of God, and thou wast pleased with me—
take, I pray thee my present (not blessing as in our
English version) that is brought to thee ; God hath
dealt graciously with me, and I have all things. And
he urged him, and he took it.”
Jacob belords his brother still further, does he not?
After putting his brother on a level with his God
there was little room for' further flattery, yet he uses
such phrases as these : “ My lord knoweth ; ” “ Let
my lord, I pray“ Let me find grace in the sight
of my lord.”
The brothers part good friends and reconciled ?
They do; Esau returns to Seir ; and Jacob wending
on his way comes to Shalem in the land of Canaan,
�Genesis: 'Jacob wrestles with Elohe.
99
■where he buys part of a field and erects a Pillar
which he calls El-Elohe-Israel—a compound of the
names by which the God of the primitive Semitic
tribes possessing Palestine was known.
There is a notable and most extraordinary incident
met with in the middle of the narrative of the meeting
between Jacob and Esau, but connected with the
name of Israel, which we have just seen applied to
the pillar erected by Jacob ?
A very notable and to modern apprehension extra
ordinary incident indeed. As Jacob is journeying
towards Seir to meet his brother, he is “ left alone ;
and there wrestled a man with him until the breaking
of the day; and when the man saw that he prevailed
not against Jacob, he touched the hollow of his thigh,
so that the hollow of Jacob’s thigh was out of joint
as he wrestled with him ; and he said: Let me go, for
the day breaketh ! And Jacob said : I will not let
thee go unless thou bless me. And the man said:
What is thy .name; and he said Jacob. And the
man said: Thy name shall be called no more Jacob,
but Israel (Prince of God), for as a prince hast
thou power with God and with men, and hast pre
vailed.”
Does not Jacob also question his opponent as to
who or what he is ?
Jacob says: “ Tell me, I pray thee, thy name,” and
his adversary answers: “Wherefore is it that thou
dost ask after my name ?” But Jacob’s question was
most pertinent; for in days when there were believed
to be many gods it was very necessary to know who
the One was with whom intercourse was had ; and
this could best be done through the name and title of
the individual.
Jacob’s opponent does not tell his name nor say
who he is ?
He does not; but owning himself in some sort
worsted in the encounter, only escaping from Jacob’s
�IOO
The Pentateuch.
grip indeed by touching a tender part of his body,
he blesses Jacob, who calls the place where the en
counter happened Peniel (the face of God) ; for says
he : “I have seen God face to face and my life is pre
served.” Jacob’s opponent would, therefore, seem to
have been no man, as said in the text, but El, Elohe,
or God himself in person.
. What interpretation can be put upon this strange
and obviously mythical tale ?
More than one has been attempted ; but its sense
has mostly remained to orthodox expositors as dark
as the darkest of the night in which the wrestling
match is said to have occurred. From the narrative,
Jacob evidently supposes that it was his God El with
whom he had been striving, though to our modern
notions the idea of man struggling with God in flesh
and blood seems even too extravagant to have been
possibly entertained. Jacob, however, does say that
he had seen God face to face ; so that on this point
there can be no question. It is then to be noted that
the opponent desires to be let go when “ the day
begins to break ; ” and that “ the sun rises ” on Jacob
as he passes over Peniel halting, yet with a blessing
from the encounter. These particulars, aided by a
small amount-of mythological knowledge, give a key
to the mystery involved in the tale : It is allegorical
of the struggle between Light and Darkness, i.e.,
between the beneficent and the adverse aspects of
Nature, combined in the Hebrew conception of the
Deity. The tale is probably a fragment of a larger
document, dissevered from the rest of the record which
told of the Light or Sun, Moon and Planet worship
followed by the far-off forefathers of the Hebrew race,
before they had swarmed away from the hills and
valleys of the high lands of Armenia and Mesopo
tamia. It has no connection, save by inference, with
anything that has gone before, nor with anything that
comes after in the Hebrew Scriptures—not even with
�Genesis: Jacob the Wrestler.
ioi
the change of Jacob’s name, for that had been men
tioned already.
The hollow of Jacob’s thigh is said to have been
put out of joint in one part of the narrative (xxxii.
25) ; in another (v. 32) it is a sinew which is said
to have shrunk—“the sinew which is upon the hollow
of the thigh ; therefore,” it is added, “ the children
of Israel eat not of the sinew which shrank unto this
day.”
The meaning of this, too, must be allegorical ?
No doubt of it. The part which the children of
Israel “ eat not unto this day” is neither the great
sciatic nerve, as is sometimes said, nor any tendon
connected with a muscle.
Have we not a story akin to this in what is called
the Pagan Mythology ?
We have—in the myth of the wrestling bout that
takes place between the Tyrian Heracles and Zeus, in
which Heracles, like Jacob, comes off halting with a
dislocation of the thigh. But why the story here
should be characterised as pagan and called mytho
logical and incredible, whilst the Hebrew tale is
looked on as sacred and held worthy of belief, is
not so obvious. The two myths have doubtless a
common origin. The Tyrian hero, the god in his
favourable aspect, contends with the Father of gods
and men in his adverse aspect, precisely as Jacob—
Israel the wrestler, assumed as symbolical of light,
contends with Elohe in his quality of darkness, or the
night. But Phoenicians, Tyrians, Canaanites, Israel
ites, &c., were all alike children of the same Semitic
stock, spoke closely allied dialects of the same lan
guage, and in their religious ideas, rites and ceremo
nies were at one.
There is another version of the wrestling match
between Hercules and an adversary, which throws
additional light on the Hebrew fragment ?
It is that in which Hercules contends with Antaeus.
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The Pentateuch.
The sun—Hercules, wrapt in the lion’s skin, had
his domicile in the zodiacal sign Leo; Anteus had
his in that of Aquarius. But Leo is the sign in which
the sun is supreme, and summer is in the ascendant;
Aquarius the sign in which the sun is at the lowest
point of his annual course, and winter rules the year.
Hercules’ adversary is aptly named Antaeus, Opponent,
-—his opposite or other self, in ceaseless contention
with whom he is alternately the victor and the van
quished, the light now getting the better of the dark,
the dark in turn becoming superior to the light, but
each destined ere long again and in endless succes
sion to yield to the other.
What happens after the brothers Jacob and Esau
have taken their several ways ?
Dinah, the daughter of Jacob by Leah, is violated
by Shechem, son of Hamor the Hivite, who, however,
inconsistently as it seems, then makes suit through
his father to Jacob to have the damsel to wife.
Does Jacob agree to the proposal ?
We have no account of his objecting, but his sons
are wroth with Shechem when they hear of the wrong
he has done to Dinah their sister. Nevertheless, to
the proposals made for reparation by marriage, they
answer deceitfully, and say they cannot give their
sister to one that is uncircumcised, but if every male
of the Hivites will consent to circumcision, then say
they we will give our daughters to you, and we will
take your daughters to us, and we will dwell with you
and become one people.
The Hivites agree to the terms; do Jacob and
his sons keep faith with them ?
Far from it; there is small account of good faith
between man and man in the legendary and mythical
accounts we have of these early times. On the third
day, when the circumcised Hivites are sore from the
operation, Simeon and Levi, two of Jacob’s sons,
“ take each man his sword and come upon the city
�Genesis : 'Jacob and the Hivites.
103
boldly and slay the males,” despoiling and carrying
off all it contained in the shape of cattle and other
wealth, and leading the women and their little ones
into captivity.
Deception and cruelty seem to have been very
much at home with Jacob and his family ?
So it plainly appears. Jacob, however, is not alto
gether satisfied with the daring act of his sons. But
it is not with their faithlessness and barbarity that he
quarrels; it is because by what they have done they
have made him “ to stink ” among the inhabitants of
the land, the Canaanites and Perizzites; and “ I,
being few in number (he says), they will gather
themselves together against me and slay me and my
house.”
* There is happily an air of improbability about this
story which seems to take it out of the sphere of his
tory, is there not ? .
There is, and not only of improbability, but of im
possibility. Two men, even with every advantage of
arms, could scarcely enter the smallest hamlet, slay
all the males, load themselves with the spoil, drive off
the flocks and herds, and carry away the women and
children with impunity. There are two accounts,
moreover, of this business in the same chapter of
Genesis, one of which may be read complete without
a word of the slaughter and spoil which figure in the
other; and, as that seems to be the older record, let
us also trust that it is the more truthful of the two.n
What incidents worth noting occur in Jacob’s on
ward journey ?
Ordered by his God to go up to Beth-el and there
to erect a pillar, he commands his household and all
who are with him to put away the strange gods that
are among them.
u See Bernstein’s Origin of the Legends of Abraham, Isaac,
and Jacob for a new and probably correct explanation of this
fable.
�104
'The Pentateuch.
This is an extraordinary order !
How should
Jacob, the familiar of his God and father of the
Israelites, have suffered strange gods in his family ?
But they obey ?
They give Jacob all the strange gods that were in
their hand, and their rings also, and he buries them
under the Oak that was by Shechem ?
Jacob and his family would seem from this to have
been, like Laban and his daughters, idolaters ?
That they were and did long continue to be so there
can be no doubt. The strange gods were, of course,
household images of small size, such as Rachel had.
stolen from her father Laban.
But the rings were not gods ?
No ; but rings of all kinds—ear-rings, nose-rings,
finger-rings, bracelets, anklets—were amulets dr
fetiches, emblematic of the Yoni or female element
in the reproductive power of nature—of which
the cosmical snake—the symbol of eternity—
with its tail in its mouth, was the prototype. The
Egyptian divinities are always represented with what
is called the Key of the Nile in one hand—a circle or
loop with a cross below—the circle, sign of eternity,
the cross significant of the four great epochs in the
flight of time, or of the moments when the sun, in
his annual round, crossed the equator at the vernal
and autumnal equinoxes, and attained his highest
summer and lowest winter meridian altitudes.
The place where the strange gods and the rings
are buried has also its significance, has it not ?
No doubt it has; they were buried under the Oak
as a propitiatory offering to the life-giving principle
in nature, universally typified among the earlier
races of mankind by trees.
Jacob comes to Padan Aram, and there God, as it
is said, appears to him again, informs him that he is
El-Scliaddai — God the mighty ; tells him that his
name shall not any more be Jacob, but Israel; bids
�Genesis: 'Jacob.
I05
him be fruitful and multiply • says that a nation and a
company of nations should be of him, and that kings
should come out of his loins, whilst the land that had
been promised to Abraham and Isaac should be con
firmed to him and to his progeny for ever. “ And
then,” continues the narrative, “ God went up from
him in the place where he talked with him.”
Have we not had much of this story already, with
certain strange accessories ?
Certainly; where we had the account of the
wrestling match that took place in the night season,
and only ended with the dawning of the day; when
Jacob’s name was changed to Israel, &c.
Can man,*reasonable and cultivated man, really
and truly accept such tales as inspired revelations
from God, or as guides to piety and purity of life ?
They are, undoubtedly, accepted as revelations, and
still believed in as actual occurrences, though the end
to be served by them in the direction indicated is not
so obvious. To the emancipated from superstitious
beliefs, however, it is inconceivable how they should
still pass current in the world, or be received as sup
plying examples that are not rather to be shunned
than followed. Had not men determined beforehand
that they had come from sacred and inspired sources,
their details and tendencies would assuredly never
have led to the conclusion that they had had any such
hallowed origin as that ascribed to them.
Reading the Hebrew Scriptures as thus, with
unsealed eyes, and by the light of collateral know
ledge, mythological and other, are we not forced on
conclusions as to the origin, worth, and real signifi
cance of these ancient writings, very different from
such as are generally entertained ?
So much follows of necessity; and we are then
left at liberty, from the book of nature and our own
minds, to form nobler and more worthy conceptions
of God and his Providential rule of the world than
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The Pentateuch.
any that are to be gathered from Hebrew sources;
and, further, to think that better books than the Bible
may be found to aid in the education of the young. ■
Journeying from Beth-el, what happens ?
Rachel is taken in labour, and dies in giving birth
to her son Benjamin; then there is a foul tale of
Reuben in connection with Bilhah, one of his father’s
wives or concubines; lastly, Jacob visits his father
Isaac in Hebron, where the old man dies at an in
credible age, and is buried by his sons Jacob and
Esau. Jacob then continues to dwell in the land of
Canaan, in which his father was a stranger, and
Joseph, his son by Rachel, now seventeen years old,
tends the flocks of his father along with his brothers,
the sons of Leah, Bilhah and Zilpah.
Joseph is not liked by his brothers ?
No,; Joseph as the elder-born of Rachel, Jacob’s
first love, and because he was the child of his old age,
“ was more loved by Israel than all his children.”
This naturally begat jealousy and dislike among the
others ; and then, as we are told that Joseph “ brought
to their father evil reports of his brothers,” this
assuredly would not make them love him any the
more.
Joseph has a dream besides that still further
inflames the dislike of his brothers ?
He dreams that as he and his brothers were binding
sheaves in the field, his sheaf stood upright, and all
his brothers’ sheaves stood round about and made
obeisance to his sheaf.
Has he not yet another dream P
He dreams further that the sun, moon, and eleven
stars made obeisance to him ; and when he tells this
dream to his father he is rebuked by his parent, who
says, identifying himself, Rebekah, and his eleven sons
with the sun, moon, and stars of the dream : “What
is this dream that thou hast dreamed ? Shall I and
thy mother and thy brethren indeed come to bow
�Genesis: yose'ph.
107
down ourselves to thee ?” Jacob, nevertheless,
“observes the saying,” and Joseph is naturally hated
more than ever by the other members of the family.
The Jews of old thought more of dreams than do
men of culture in the present day ?
Than men of culture, certainly, though dreams still
puzzle and terrify the ignorant and superstitious
vulgar. The Jews of old thought that “ dreams
were from God;” they generally interpreted them
literally, though sometimes also allegorically; and
the great bulk of their presumed communications
from God appear to have been receivedin dreams and
visions of the night, a mode of communication little
trusted at the present time, wherein men rely more
and more advantageously on knowledge and waking
thoughts than on sleeping fancies.
The further account, leading to the catastrophe
that is in preparation, informs us that Israel sends
Joseph to Shechem as a spy upon his other sons : “ Go,
I pray thee,” says Jacob, “ see whether it is well
with thy brothers, and well with the flocks, and
bring me word again.” A delegate of the kind
would not be apt to be over well received ?
Hardly; and the brothers, when they saw him afar
off, even before he came near them, conspired against
him to slay him. “ Here cometh this man of dreams,”
say they; “ and now let us slay him and cast him into
one of the pits, and we will say some evil beast hath
devoured him, and we shall see what will become of
his dreams.”
Reuben, however, interposes, and bids the rest
“ shed no blood, but cast him into a pit,” intending
thus, it would seem, to save his life and restore him
to his father ?
According to a second account it is Judah who
interferes : “ What profit,” says he, “ will it be if
we slay our brother and conceal his blood; come let
us sell him to the Ishmaelites (a troop of whom,
�io8
Phe Pentateuch.
going towards Egypt, have come in sight) ; let not
our hand be upon him, for he is our brother.”
There appear to be two accounts of this bad busi
ness, drawn.from different documents, and jumbled
together, as in so many other parts of the Jewish sacred
writings. In one it is Reuben who saves Joseph
alive ; in another it is Judah. Here it is Judah and
the brethren who sell Joseph to Ishmaelites, there
it is Midianitish merchants who draw him out of the
pit and sell him to Ishmaelites, who carry him to
Egypt; and again it is Midianites who sell him
in Egypt to Potiphar, an officer of Pharaoh; and
yet again it is Ishmaelites who effect the sale.
What inference may be drawn from such diversity
of statement ?
That the idea of supernatural inspiration' in con
nection with the Jewish Scriptures ought to be aban
doned, and the matter seen as it must needs be in
fact—viz. : that the compiler or editor is here, as
elsewhere, drawing now from one document or tradi
tion, and then from another, and that with the super
stitious respect for the letter which characterised the
Jews of old, and without a show of critical discrimi
nation, he mixes up the several accounts into what he
intended should be a continuous and consistent nar
rative.
Reuben, who is not made a party to the sale of his
brother, returns to the pit, and “behold, Joseph was
not there ! and he rent his clothes and came to his
brethren and said : The child is not, and I, whither
shall I go I ” The brothers take little heed of his
wailing, but proceed as they had purposed ?
They take Joseph’s coat of many colours, and
having killed a kid, they dipped the coat in the blood,
and brought it to their father, who knows it, and in
his grief exclaims: “It is my son’s coat; an evil
beast hath devoured him I” So he rends his clothes,
puts sackcloth on his loins, mourns for his son many
�Genesis : Judah and Tamar.
109
days, and refusing to be comforted, says : “ I will go
down into the grave unto my son mourning.” A true
and beautiful picture of natural affection sorely tried,
and doubtless from the hand of one among the earliest
of the true poets whose writings have come down to
us 1
We have several particulars now related, not always
of the most delicate and moral kind when viewed in
the light of the more advanced ideas of delicacy and
morality of the present day ?
Particulars which, nevertheless, are interesting from
an antiquarian and ethnological point of view, and
important as marking intervals of time, and showing
how little faith is to be attached to many of the nar
ratives in the Hebrew Bible as embracing historical
truth's.
What are these ?
Joseph is seventeen years old when he is sold into
Egypt; and as Leah bears Issachar and Zebulon be
tween the birth of Judah and that of Joseph, Judah
must have been about twenty-four years of age at this
time. Judah now takes Shuah to himself as wife,
and she bears first one son, Er, then another, Onan,
and yet a third, Shelah. Er, Judah’s first-born, is
old enough to have a wife given him—Tamar; Er
dies (he is said to have been “ wicked in the
sight of the Lord, and so the Lord slew him”).
Judah desires his second son Onan to take his late
brother’s wife to himself, in conformity with the usage
of the country, and raise up seed to his brother. But
Onan does not like the match; and though he obeys
his father in so far as the union went, he resolves,
and so acts, as to raise no seed to his brother. This,
it is said, “ displeased the Lord, and he slew him also.”
Tamar, for the second time a widow, ought now to
have been given in marriage to Shelah, Judah’s third
son; but she had proved so disastrous a bargain to
Er and Onan, that Judah must have hesitated to ven-
�I IO
The Pentateuch.
ture on her with his sole remaining son. Tama? was
dissatisfied when she sees that Shelah, though grown
to man’s estate, is not given to her as her husband ;
and she, the widow of two of his sons, resolves to
seduce Judah himself. With this view she casts off
her widow’s weeds, veils herself, shows herself in an
open place as an harlot, and is addressed by Judah.
“ What wilt thou give me?” says Tamar to Judah
when solicited by him. “ I will give thee a kid from
the flock,” he replies. “ Give me a pledge till thou
send it.” “ What pledge shall I give thee ?” “ Thy
signet and thy bracelets, and the staff that is in thine
hand.” And he gave her all. Immediately after her
incestuous intercourse with Judah, Tamar resumes
her weeds, and when Judah sends the kid by his mes
senger desiring to have back the pledges he had left
with her, she is nowhere to be found.
What does Judah ?
He desires the kid to be disposed of, or given
away, nevertheless, “lest,” as he says, “he should be
shamed.”
What next in this edifying story ?
Judah is by and by informed that Tamar has
played the harlot, and is with child; and be says :
“ Bring her forth and let her be burnt.”
What does Tamar ?
When brought forth she shows the pledges she had
had, and says : “ By the man whose these are am I
with child; discern, I pray thee, whose are these—
the signet, the bracelets, the staff.”
And Judah ?
Acknowledging the pledge, he declares that she has
been “ more righteous than himself, because that he
had not given her to wife -to Shelah his son.”
Can we as moral beings conceive accounts of pro
ceedings such as these to have been written under
the inspiration of God for the instruction and im
provement of mankind ?
�Genesis: Joseph.
Ill
It is impossible.
Or that God has in especial favour the men who
are guilty of doings such as these, and the race who
think them not unworthy of a place among their
sacred annals as a people ?
This, too, even on the vulgar showing, is impos
sible.
Or that we do well in putting the book which con
tains such foul tales into the hands of our children as
a means of furthering them in a knowledge of that
wherein virtue and propriety of conduct consist r
It is only brutal ignorance, blind bigotry, and gross
superstition that can say it is well to do so. God
has no favourites among his creatures, or, if he has,
they are such alone as conform themselves to his laws
—physical and moral. Through the understanding
and higher moral nature wherewith man is endowed,
God proclaims his condemnation of acts that are only
worthy of the beasts of the field. But these tales are
from the traditions of ages barbarous and long gone
by, and only committed to writing in much more
modern times,—traditions descending, it may be, from
the Stone Age of the world, when men had no better
tools than such as were poorly supplied by chipped
flints, when they ate one another, and grilled and
split the long bones of their sires for the marrow they
contained. '
Joseph is brought to Egypt by the merchants or
slave dealers, and sold to an officer of the Pharaoh,
Potiphar by name, whose favourable opinion he forth
with secures. by his good conduct and intelligence.
Attempted to be seduced, and in her anger falsely
accused by Potiphar’s wife, however, he falls into
disgrace and is thrown into prison. Here, again, the
propriety of his demeanour wins him the notice and
confidence of the keeper of the prison; and having
successfully interpreted the dreams of two of Pharaoh’s
servants who had been put in ward for some offence,
�I 12
The Pentateuch.
he is brought under the notice of Pharaoh as a seer,
Pharaoh himself having dreamed a two-fold dream,
which none of the magicians or wise men of Egypt
could interpret. Summoned to the presence, the
Pharaoh tells his dream to Joseph, and he, from- its
tenor, interprets it as a notice from God of the coming
on of seven years of plenty, to be followed by seven
years of dearth. Joseph is careful to take no credit
to himself for his dream-interpreting powers ; in con
formity with Jewish ideas, he says he had but given
“ the answer of peace which he himself had received
from God.”
The Pharaoh accepts Joseph’s interpretation of his
dream ?
He does, and is so much pleased with the inter
preter, that he takes him into his counsels ; appoints
him as head over his house; takes the ring from his
own finger, and puts it upon Joseph’s ; arrays him
in fine linen; hangs a gold chain about his neck ;
gives him to wife Asenath, daughter of the Priest of*
On, and makes him ruler over all the land of Egypt.
“ Only in the throne will I be greater than thou,”
adds the confiding sovereign ruler of the land.
This is a great and sudden rise ?
A great and sudden rise, indeed; and all on the
faith of the still untested truth of the interpretation
of a dream ! Needful, however, as an introduction to
the narrative that follows, viz.: The arrival of Israel
and his family in Egypt, in consequence of the famine
that conveniently prevailed at this time in the land of
Canaan; the touching incidents of the meeting of
Joseph with his unnatural brethren, and the retri
butive justice which the writer would show to wait
on evil, and the reward that follows well-doing.
The years of plenty, succeeded by the years of
famine, as predicted by Joseph from the Pharoah’s
dream, follow, of course ?
Of course they do; and Joseph gathers store of
�113
Genesis: 'Joseph.
Corn, as the sand of the sea, into all the granaries of
Egypt'; so that, when the years of famine arrive,
though dearth prevails in all the neighbouring lands,
there is bread in Egypt. When the famine begins to
be felt, Joseph unlocks his stores, and is liberal enough
to sell, not only to the natives of the country, but, in
aid of the story, to strangers also. Hearing that
there is corn in Egypt, Jacob says to his sons, “Why
look ye one upon another ? Behold, I have heard
that there is corn in the land of Egypt; get ye down
thither, and buy for us from thence that we may live
and not die.”
The sons depart ?
Ten of them ; for Jacob will not part with Benja
min, his youngest son, “ lest, peradventure, mischief
befall him.” They arrive in Egypt; and Joseph
“knew his brethren, but they knew not him.” They
bow themselves with their faces to the earth before
the great Governor of Egypt; and Joseph, remember
ing his dreams, when he "sees them in this position,
and, doubtless, not entirely forgetting the cruel usage
he had had at their hands, then speaks roughly to
them, asks them whence they came, and says to them,
“ Ye are spies ; to see the nakedness of the land are
ye come.”
They excuse themselves ?
“ Thy servants are no spies,” say they, “ but twelve
brethren, the sons of one man in the land of Canaan;
and, behold, the youngest is this day with our father,
and one is not.”
“ By the life of Pharaoh,” answers Joseph, “ ye
shall not go hence, except your youngest brother come
hither. Send one of you,” according to one version
of the tale (for here we have two as usual—“ let one
of you be bound in prison,” says the other version),
“ whilst the rest carry corn for the famine of their
houses, but bring your youngest brother to me, so
shall your words be verified, and ye shall not die.”
I
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The Pentateuch.
Then come the compunctious visitings upon the
brethren for what they had done to Joseph ; and still,
in the presence of the Governor, and speaking in their
own tongue, they accuse one another of their hardbeartedness, notwitting that Joseph understood them,
“for he spake to them by an interpreter.”
Simeon is bound as hostage, and the rest depart
with provision for the way, their sacks full of corn,
and the money of each returned, tied up in the mouth
of his sack. They reach home, and narrate to their
father all that has befallen them ?
And communicate the conditions on which Simeon
is to be released ; but Jacob refuses absolutely to part
with Benjamin: “ My son shall not go down with
you; for his brother is dead, and he is left alone; if
mischief befal him by the way, then shall ye bring
down my grey hairs with sorrow to the grave.” But,
the famine continuing, when they had eaten up the
corn they had brought out of Egypt, Jacob bids them
go again and buy a little food.
The sons consent to go ?
Only on condition that Benjamin is suffered to go
with them : “ Slay my two sons,” says Reuben to his
father, “ if I bring him not to thee again.” “ Send
the lad with me,” says Judah, “ and we will arise and
go; that we may live and not die, both we and thou
and our little ones ; I will be surety for him ; of my
hand shalt thou require him.”
Jacob yields to their entreaties, and to sore
necessity ?
“ If it must be so now,” says the old man, “do this :
take of the best fruits in the land, and carry down
the man a present,—a little balm, and a little honey,
spices and myrrh, nuts and almonds; and take double
money in your hand; the money that was brought
again in the mouth of your sacks carry again in your
hand ; peradventure it was an oversight; take also
your brother, and arise, go again unto the man, and
�Genesis : Joseph.
115
God Almighty give you mercy before him, that he
may send away your other brother and Benjamin : if
I am bereaved of my children, I am bereaved ! ”
They depart, and stand a second time before
Joseph. When he sees Benjamin among them, he
orders the ruler of his house to bring his brethren
home, and to slay and make ready; for these men,
says he, shall dine with me at noon ?
Brought into Joseph’s house, they are much afraid,
because of the money they had found returned in
their sacks ; they excuse themselves to the steward;
inform him of the money they had found, and show
both this and that which they had now brought to
buy more corn.
The steward consoles them ?
Saying : “ Peace be to you ; fear not; your God
and the God of your father hath given you treasure
in your sacks. I had your money; and he brought
Simeon out unto them.”
They make ready the present they had provided
for Joseph, and bow themselves to the earth before
him, when he comes home. Joseph asks kindly alter
their welfare, and says: “ Is your father well, the old
man of whom ye spake, is he yet alive ?” “ Thy ser
vant our father is yet alive, he is in good health.”
And lifting up his eyes, and seeing Benjamin, his
mother’s son, he asks : “ Is this your younger brother
of whom ye spake ? And he said, God be gracious
unto thee, my son ! And he made haste, for his
bowels yearned upon his brother; and he sought
where to weep • and he entered into his chamber and
wept there. And he washed his face and went out
and refrained himself.”
Prosperity and his wonderful rise in the world had
not hardened Joseph’s heart, as so often happens ?
Joseph is an impersonation of goodness and for
giveness, drawn by a master’s hand in simple and
beautiful words. But it is a tale such as belongs not
�116
The Pentateuch.
to the age of the world with which the name of
Joseph,. the son of Jacob, is connected. It is the
conception of an Isaiah or a Micah, or of a mind
more delicate and refined than either of these-—a
beautiful and touching story, unsurpassed in its
treatment and its pathos; a story over which our
eyes were wont to fill whiles we were children, as
they fill now, after seventy years and more, perhaps,
have passed over the heads of the men !
Joseph would seem to have taken some little plea
sure in frightening his naughty brothers ; for he bids
his steward put their money into the sacks of all as
before, and his own silver drinking-cup, beside the
money, into the sack of the youngest, so as to make
it appear that the cup had been stolen. Dismissed
on their way homewards, and outside the city gates,
Joseph says to his steward : Up, follow after the men ;
and when thou dost overtake them, say unto them :
Wherefore have ye rewarded evil for good ? Is not
this the cup in which my lord drinketh, and whereby
indeed he divineth ?
Joseph, it would therefore seem, was not only an
interpreter of dreams, but a diviner in other ways ?
Fortune-telling from the cup is still practised—
more, perhaps, in jest than in earnest—among our
selves. It is no golden jewelled goblet, however,
such as we must presume Joseph’s to have been, with
beads and rivulets of precious liquor stealing down
its sides, that is now in use by our gossips. It is the
homely tea-cup and the grounds adhering to the
bottom and sides which are the hieroglyphics that
prompt the Pythia in her responses.
Accused of having purloined the cup, the men, in
conscious innocence, rebut the charge; but are con
founded when, on the sacks being undone, the cup of
my lord the Governor of Egypt is found in the sack
of Benjamin. They rend their clothes, relade their
asses, and return into the city. Joseph would then
�Genesis : Joseph.
117
detain his brother Benjamin beside him, whilst the
rest returned to their home; but Judah pleads
■ touchingly against the Governor’s purpose : “ Oh,
my lord,” says he, “let thy servant, I pray thee,
speak a word in my lord’s ears. My lord asked his
servants, saying: ‘ Have ye a father or a brother ?’
and we said unto my lord, ‘We have a father, an old
man, and a brother, a child of his old age; and his
brother is dead, and he alone is left of his mother,
and his father loveth him. Now, therefore, when I
come to thy servant, my father, seeing that his life is
bound up in the lad’s life, it shall come to pass, when
he seeth that the lad is not with us, that he will
die, and thy servants shall bring down the grey hairs
of thy servant, our father, with sorrow to the grave ;
for thy servant became surety for the lad unto my
father, saying, ‘ If I bring him not unto thee, then
I shall bear the blame unto my father for ever.’ Now,
therefore, I pray thee, let thy servant abide instead of
the lad, a bondsman to my lord, and let the lad go up
with his brethren.”
Joseph can hold out no longer: “ Cause everyman
to go out from me,” he exclaims; and, turning to his
brethren, he says : “I am Joseph; come near me, I
pray you ; I am Joseph your brother whom ye sold into
Egypt. And doth my father yet live ? Now, therefore,
be not grieved nor be angry with yourselves that ye
sold me thither, for God did send me before you to
preserve life. Haste ye then and go to my father,
and say unto him : Thus sayeth thy son Joseph :
God hath made me Lord of all Egypt; come down
to me, tarry not. And ye shall tell my father of all
my g^ry in Egypt, and ye shall haste and bring
down my father hither. And he fell upon his brother
Benjamin’s neck and wept, and he kissed all his
brethren and wept upon them.” The good Joseph 1
and the sweet poetic mind that still makes our hearts
to throb in sympathy with its own as it wove the
�118
The Pentateuch.
tale, though it has been stilled so many hundred
years !
The brothers return home and tell the wondrous
story to their father, whose heart faints within him
at first, for he scarce believes them. But seeing the
presents with which they are loaded his spirit revives,
and he says : “ It is enough ; Joseph my son is yet
alive ; I will go and see him before I die.” He takes
his journey accordingly with all belonging to him ?
With his sons and daughters and his son’s sons and
daughters, their cattle and all the gear they had gotten
in the land of Canaan, they move away, three score
and six in all, making up with Joseph, his wife
Asenath and the two sons she had borne him, the
three score and ten persons—the mystical number
seventy—connected with Jacob who come out of the
land of Canaan into Egypt.
The wealth, in cattle especially, said to have been
possessed by Jacob and his sons in the land of Canaan
might seem to make removal to Egypt on account of
famine unnecessary ?
So we might suppose ; with their flocks and herds
they could have been in no want of animal food; and
if the land was in a state to produce “ balm and
honey, nuts and almonds, spices and myrrh ” as pre
sents for the Governor of Egypt, it was also in a con
dition to yield corn for Jacob and his sons, and
herbage for their cattle ?
So we might fairly suppose. But continued peace
ful settlement in the land of Canaan would not have
enabled the Jewish scribes to exhibit their people in
any peculiar or very striking way as the special
favourites of their God Jehovah. Neither would he
have had the occasion required to show the many
strange signs and wonders they describe in proof of
his almighty power and his superiority over the gods
of Pharaoh and the Egyptians. Neither indeed would
such a course have left any excuse for the cruelties so
�Genesis : Jacob in Egypt.
119
wantonly committed against the Egyptians, or the
invasion of Palestine and the indiscriminate slaughter
of its inhabitants, accounts of which are laid up in
the Hebrew annals as acts approved—nay commanded
by God, meritorious in themselves and worthy of imi
tation by posterity.
But the famine, as foretold by Joseph to the Pha
raoh ; and, presumed to have extended to Palestine, is
the cause which led immediately to Jacob’s removal
with his family from the land of Canaan to Egypt?
The famine, too, must be a myth—part of the ma
chinery brought into play by the writer. Occasional
droughts with consequent dearths have, doubtless, at
all times prevailed in Palestine, as in other lands
within the variable latitudes, but the geographical
position of the country and all we know of its climate
forbid us to believe that drought and dearth for seven
successive years are within the sphere of possibility.
Egypt, again, not depending on its local rainfall for
the productiveness of its soil, but on the waters of the
Nile, whose source is more than a thousand miles away,
is as necessarily inundated once a year and fertilised,
as winter and summer come alternately over the
northern and southern halves of the globe. Total
failure of the crops in Egypt, even for one year, may be
said not to be possible. The rise of the river in one year
being more than in another, and the acreage effec
tually irrigated and cultivated being in consequence
less or more, there may in different years be relative
abundance or dearth, but never entire failure of the
land’s increase, never even scarcity for such a period
as seven years in succession.
Jacob and his son’s wealth consisting in cattle of
different kinds, the land of Egypt, so wholly agri
cultural, would not seem the most advantageous con
ceivable for the location of neat-herds and shep
herds ?
This difficulty is got over by Jacob and his family
�120
The Pentateuch.
being settled by Joseph, with the Pharaoh’s approval,
in the land of Goshen, a district on the northern
borders of Egypt adapted to grazing, but which will
be looked for in vain upon the map of such extent as
might suffice to support the population that is said
finally to have possessed it.
There was a special objection, moreover, to the set
tlement of Jacob and his kindred in the land of Egypt
proper ?
Besides the first and most obvious objection that
presented itself to the writer’s mind—the impossi
bility of having herds and flocks among the polders
and canallated fields of the great valley of the Nile,
shepherds are said to have been an abomination to
the Egyptians.
What may be the meaning of this ?
An obscure epoch in the history of Egypt is pro
bably referred to, when the country was invaded and
for a time dominated by a barbarous people called
Hyksos or Shepherds, of whom little that is not con
jectural is known—a wild Arabian tribe in all pro
bability of the same Semitic stock as the Hebrews—
who broke in upon peaceful Egypt out of the neigh
bouring desert and made themselves masters of the
country for a season—how Ion git is impossible to say—
but who were finally either absorbed into the general
population, or, as the ruling class, were got the better
of and exterminated or expelled.
Jacob however takes his journey with all he has,
and as in his other significant moves does not fail to
have a fresh vision and communication from the God
of his father Isaac ?
God, says the text, speaks unto Israel (Jacob) in a
vision of the night, and announces himself as the God
of his father, bids him not fear to go down into Egypt;
for, adds his interlocutor : “ I will go down with thee,
and will bring thee up again and make of thee a great
nation.”
�Genesis: Jacob in Egypt.
121
A long time elapsed, however, as we learn from
another page of these scriptures, before God redeemed
the repeated pledges he is said to have made to the
Patriarchs ?
Four hundred and thirty years, according to one
of the accounts, between the promise now made to
Jacob and the Exodus from Egypt, when the first
steps may be said to have been taken which, after
forty years more of wandering in the desert, were to
lead to fulfilment of his engagements. But it is man
who makes promises and enters into covenants ; God
makes and enters into none, save in the eternal,
changeless laws which are his essence, and these are
not in time but from eternity.
And, then, were the Jews ever a great nation;
numerous as the stars of heaven or the sands of the
sea shore ?
Never. They did not even at any time obtain
entire possession of the land they believed had been
promised to them, and were alternately tributaries to
the Moabites, Philistines, Phoenicians, Egyptians,
Assyrians, Babylonians, Greeks, and Romans, by all
of whom they were at different times conquered,
amerced as tributaries, or led into captivity as slaves.
The promises made them, therefore, can only have
been in their own imaginations ?
They certainly cannot have been from God, for they
were never kept.
But to return—Jacob on his arrival in Egypt is
dutifully met by Joseph in his chariot, and by him is
presented to the Pharaoh. Inquired of by the sove
reign how old he is, what answer makes he ?
“ That he is an hundred and thirty years oldand
rather ungratefully and untruly, as it seems, from all
we know of his history, he adds : “ Few and evil have
been the days of the years of my life.”
Can we fancy the successful superseder of his elder
brother and filcher of his father’s blessing, the un-
�122
'The Pentateuch.
vanquished wrestler with Elohe himself, and the
prosperous possessor of herds and flocks, and a nume
rous progeny, to have given such an answer ?
Not if he were speaking in sober seriousness. His
own life had been prosperous; the evil in it had all
fallen upon others.
The famine continuing in the land of Egypt, how
does Joseph proceed ?
W arily and with a view to aggrandise the ruler,
harshly and so as to impoverish and break the
people ; for he first gathers into his own hand all the
money in the country by the sale of his hoarded corn ;
then he says, “ Give me of your cattle if money fail
and the year coming to an end with no abatement of
the scarcity, he finally buys up all the land, every
man selling his field for bread, and removes the
people into the cities from one end of Egypt to the
other.
Does he not make one exception in this getting
possession of the soil ?
He does : “ The land of the priests bought he not,”
a piece of information which enables us surely to
divine what he was who tells the story.
A priest ?
Undoubtedly. Nor was Joseph yet at an end with
his hard conditions to the people. In return for
the seed they received to sow their fields, he made
it a law over the land of Egypt unto this day that
Pharaoh should have the fifth part of the produce,
except of the land of the priests, which became not
Pharaoh’s.
Another exception in the same line, and with the
phrase “unto this day,” assuring us not only of the
probable calling of the narrator, but of the compara
tively late period when he lived and wrote ?
It does so assure us, very certainly. The children
of Israel, however, prosper in the land of Goshen,
having no hard conditions imposed on them by the
�Genesis : Jacob in Egypt.
123
Governor; and Jacob, we are told, lived for seventeen
years thereafter among his children.
The longest life, however, comes to an end at last,
and we have more than one account of the incidents
attending Jacob’s death ?
It appears so. In the first that meets us he calls
Joseph to his side and engages him by the oath held
most sacred among the Jews to dispose of his body in
the way he desires : “ Put, I pray thee, thy hand
under my thigh (admove manum tuum testibus meis)
and deal kindly and truly with me; bury me not in
Egypt, but I will lie with my fathers, and thou shalt
carry me out of Egypt and bury me in their buryingplace.” In the second account given of the patriarch’s
end Joseph is told of his father’s sickness, and taking
his two sons, Ephraim and Manasseh, in his hand, he
visits his parent, who on his part is told of his son’s
arrival, when he “ strengthens himself and sits upon
the bed.” Seeing Joseph’s sons he asks who they are,
for his eyesight is dim. Being informed, he says,
“ Bring them, I pray thee, unto me, and I will bless
them.”
He blesses them ?
He does ; but imitates his own father Isaac in so far
that, though he blesses both of the lads, he gives for
no imaginable reason the preferential blessing with
the right hand to the younger son. In this second
account he says nothing about desiring to be buried
out of Eygpt, but having blessed Joseph he adds,
“ I die, but God will bring you again into the land of
your fathersy
Jacob, therefore, speaks of the land of Canaan as
his own country and the country of his fathers ?
He does so; and when we read of the ample pos
sessions of Abraham and of Jacob and of Esau, called
Duke of Seir, it is impossible not to see that the land
of Canaan had already been given by God to the Pa
triarchs and their seed; for they could not have be-
�124
The. Pentateuch.
come proprietors of hundreds of camels, of thousands
of oxen, and of hundreds of thousands of sheep and
goats, had they not also been lords of the soil.
Such considerations as these might lead us to infer
that the first coming of the Israelites into Egypt was
due to another cause than the famine at home, the
one assigned ?
It seems more likely, from the context and other
parts of the imperfect history we possess, to have
been owing to'the fortune of war,—the truth in al
likelihood being that a body of them was carried to
the land of the Pharaohs as captives at some period un
named in their history, they having been deported, in
conformity with ancient usage, from their own homes
to those of their conquerors, and by them treated as
slaves. The Hebrew Scriptures indeed are silent as
to any Egyptian captivity similar to the captivities of
Assyria and Babylon'; but when we discover the
Jewish physiognomy among the trains of captives de
picted in the temples, we are authorised to conclude
that the position of the children of Israel in Egypt
was never anything other than that of slavery. This
would better account for the hard usage they are said
to have suffered at the hands of their masters in after
times, which led to revolt and flight, than the reason
assigned in the record. The posterity of Jacob, after
a peaceful residence for centuries in Goshen, could
not have been looked on as intruders and to be feared,
nor treated with harshness, more than any of the other
inhabitants of the laud of Egypt.0
° Movers refers to a curious passage in ‘The Birds’ of Aris
tophanes, to show that the Israelites in early times must have
been slaves in Phoenicia as well as in Egypt. The Cucku
arrived in Phoenicia at the time of the wheat and barley har
vest, and his call interpreted by the Greek comic writer is to
this effect: Circumcised to the field! The Israelites must
therefore have been the bondmen, field labourers to their more
civilised and powerful neighbours.—Die Phoenizier,’ ii. 314.)
�Genesis : 'Jacob's Heath Song.
125
Jacob distinguishes Joseph from, his other sons ?
He does by the legacy he leaves him. After giving
him his blessing, he adds : “ Moreover I have given to
thee one portion above thy brethren which I took out
of the hand of the Amorite with my sword and with
my bow.” In no part of the Scriptures, however, is
there any mention made of early feuds between the
descendants of Abraham settled in Canaan and their
neighbours, nor of any feat of arms performed by
Jacob against the Amorites in particular. Jacob, on
the contrary, is characterised at the outset of his his
tory as a plain or peaceful man, so that the verse here
may be an after-thought of the writer for the greater
exaltation of Joseph, although Jacob’s boast may lead
us to suspect that we have by no means the history of
the Hebrew people complete.
Jacob blesses or addresses some words of farewell
to his other sons before he dies ?
He does; but what he says can be less interpreted
as blessing than as prophecy : “ Gather yourselves to
gether (he says) that I may tell you what will befal
you in times to come; gather yourselves together and
hearken, ye sons of Jacob, hearken to Israel your
father I”
He then addresses each in succession, saying first
to Reuben as his eldest—
“ Reuben, thou art my first-born, my might, the
beginning of my strength! * * * * Unstable as
water, thou shalt not excel; because thou wentest up
to thy father’s bed, then defiledst thou it.”
We have had the story of Reuben’s transgression
already, which seems so unnatural and abominable
that an allegorical interpretation has been sought not
only for it, but for the whole of the 49th chapter of
Genesis, to which our survey has now brought us.
What may be the nature of this interpretation ?
.We have already seen Jacob assuming that he, his
wife, and his other sons were the sun, moon, and
�126
The Pentateuch.
eleven stars of Joseph’s dream, and there can he littTe
doubt of the twelve tribes of Israel having been con
stituted as representatives of the twelve signs of the
zodiac through which the sun passes in his annual
circuit round the earth, as understood by all the
nations of antiquity. Antiquarian writers of the
highest authority are further agreed in concluding
that the several tribes (in much later times than the
age of Jacob, however) carried banners with devices
distinctive of each upon them, these being, in fact, no
other than the figures of animals, men or things to be
found, with little variety, on the planispheres or
zodiacs of the Indians, Egyptians, Greeks, Romans,
and ourselves.
What is the interpretation given to the Patriarch’s
address to Reuben in conformity with this, which may
properly be spoken of as the enigmatical and astro
logical meaning that underlies the language of this
as of so many other parts of the Hebrew Scriptures ?
The tribe of Reuben is believed to have carried the
sign of Aquarius on its banner. Now the sign of
Aquarius is typified by a human figure with a pitcher
or urn out of which water is flowing : hence Reuben
is unstable as water; he defiles his father’s bed when
he cohabits with the Patriarch’s concubine Bilhah,
and so forfeits his birthright as eldest born, which is
given to Joseph. And oriental astronomers designate
one of the asterisms in the sign of Aquarius by the
name of Bulha, which rises when the sun is yet in
Capricornus,—the house of Saturn, the star of Israel,
—and sets at the precise time when Aquarius also
dips under the horizon head foremost, and by re
versing his urn was held by the ancients to cause the
overflow of the Nile.
This is certainly curious and is not usually adverted
to by commentators on the Hebrew Scriptures,
although it has great semblance of probability for
its truth. What says the Patriarch further ?
�Genesis: Jacob's Death Song,
127
“ Simeon and Levi are brethren ; instruments of
cruelty are in their habitations ; in their anger they
slew a man,” &c. Now the sign allotted to them was
Pisces, the fishes, a sign held of specially malignant
influence by the old astrologers ; for whilst the sun
is in Pisces all the constellations that were considered
adverse are seen above the horizon ; and with his
setting in this sign the disasters of the reign of
Typhon, i.e. of winter, begin ; for then it is that Orion
sets and is feigned to die from the sting of the veno
mous scorpion who rises, and that Osiris is entrapped
and slain by Typhon. In their self-will these brethren
are further said to dig down a wall—the Hebrew,
more correctly translated, meaning to maim, or it may
be to emasculate a bull; and in the Mithriac monu
ments in particular, when the sun in Pisces sets, the
scorpion is represented gnawing the genitals of the
vernal bull—i.e., the reproductive power of nature
falls into abeyance, and the destructive principle
asserts its power.
What is said to Judah ?
“ Judah is a lion’s whelp ; his hand is in the neck
of his enemies, and his father’s children bow down
before him.”
The interpretation of which is ?
That the sun having in the olden time attained his
highest northern meridian altitude in Leo, the cog
nisance of the tribe of Judah, all the other constella
tions are beneath or may be said to have become
subject to him; hence, the hand in the neck of ene
mies, and the father’s children bowing down before
him.
The sceptre it is said shall not depart from Judah
nor the ruler’s rod (not lawgiver as in the English
version) until he come to Shiloh and the people obey
him. How may this be interpreted ?
The constellation Cepheus, as King of Ethiopia, is
still seen on our celestial spheres with a crown on his
�1-18
The Pentateuch.
head and a sceptre in his hand. This constellation
rises towards the end of July under Leo, as it were,
and continues the paranatellon or concomitant aster
ism of Leo until the sun enters Scorpio. Cepheus,
the King, sets about the time Scorpio rises, and then
ceases as it seems to attend upon Leo; the brighter
of two of the most conspicuous stars in Scorpio, called
Shuleh by Arabian astronomers, then making its ap
pearance on the visible horizon.
What may be the meaning of the sentence where
Judah is said to bind his ass’s colt to the vine and to
wash his garments in wine ?
It probably alludes to the influence of the sun in
bringing to maturity the fruits of the earth, those of
the vine in especial, whose noble product, wine, glad
dens the heart of man.
Zebulon, says the Patriarch in continuation, shall
dwell at the haven of the sea, and shall be for a haven
for ships. How may this be interpreted ?
The standard of Zebulon was Capricornus ; and on
turning to a celestial globe we observe that the ship
Argo, with the most brilliant star in the southern
heavens—Canopus—visible in Egypt, by us unseen,
sets as Capricornus rises.
Issachar is the next in order ?
Issachar is a strong Ass couching between two
burthens ; and Issachar bore on his banner the sign
of Cancer, in which are the stars called the Asses.
Had the sun had the turning point in his course as
now in Cancer, instead of Leo as at the time the
zodiac was designed which the writer of Jacob’s
death-song must have had before him, we should find
no difficulty in interpreting the couching as between
the burthen of the past and the burthen of the future.
But the translation of the Hebrew by the English
word burthens, seems to be erroneous, the proper ren
dering being partitions (Drummond), Viehlvurden—
cattle hurdles (De Wette). Issachar saw that rest
�Genesis ; Jacob's Death Song.
x.
129
was good, yet bowed his shoulder to bear—he couched
at the turning point of the summer half of the year.
Dan it is said shall judge his people as one of the
tribes of Israel. Dan shall be a serpent by the way,
an adder in the path, that biteth the horse’s heels so
that his rider shall fall back ?
A sentence which finds its ready interpretation in'
the fact that the tribe of Dan bore the sign of Scorpio
on its banner. This was one of the accursed signs
according to the ancient astrologers; for with the
entrance of the sun into Scorpio commenced the reign
of Typhon, the death of Orion, and the emasculation
of the vernal bull. Close to Scorpio we see the
serpent Ophiucus,—the adder that bites the horse’s
heels,—the head of this serpent ascending along with
the feet of the Centaur, or Hippocentaur, to obtain
the element of the horse, the heels of which are said
to be bitten by the reptile. It is not without interest
to note that in the record of the doings of the tribe
of Dan elsewhere recorded (Joshua, ch. xix.), we
read of their taking the city of Leshem and giving it
the name of their chief or father, Dan. Now, the
bright star in Scorpio which we call Antares was
called Leshat by the Chaldeans and Lesos by the
Greeks, so that the astrological significance of what
is said of Dan is not doubtful.
Of Gad it is said a troop shall oveiyjome him, but
he shall overcome at the last ?
In Capricornus there is a cluster of stars called
variously Gadia and Gadi by the Chaldeans and
Syrians, Giedi by the Arabians. It might be pre
sumed at first sight, therefore, that Gad must have
had Capricornus for its cognisance. But the cogni
sance of Gad was Aries, the Ram, in which sign the
sun crossed the equator in the olden time, as in times
still older he made the passage in Taurus, and from
the inferior mounted triumphantly, victorious as it
were, over the inferior signs, in the lowest of which,
K
�130
Phe Pentateuch.
Capricornus, comprising the cluster or troop of stars
called Gadia, he was feigned to have been born at the
winter solstice: pressed on symbolically by a troop
at one time, the sun advancing in his course prevails
over it at last.
Out of Ashee the bread shall be fat, and he shall
give the dainties of the King (De Wette).
Libra was the sign carried on the banner of Asher,
and when the sun had reached this sign the happy sea
son of the year had come, with skies still mild and the
earth burthened with the load of ripened and ripening
fruits which under the fostering influence of the God
of Day it had produced. Hence the allusion to the
big loaf and the dainties for a King.
Naphthali is a hind let loose; he giveth goodly
words.
Tradition allots Virgo to Naphthali. The word
translated IxiniL had probably a different signification
in the original, and what is implied by the goodly
words he gave it is not easy to conjecture.
Joseph is a fruitful bough, even a fruitful bough
by a well, whose branches run over a wall.
The writer compares Ephraim, who assumed the
standard of his father Joseph, to a young bull, and
tradition assigns Taurus to the tribe of Ephraim—
Taurus, the sign in which the vernal equinox occurred
in very ancient times, and when the vegetable world
was starting into life. Hence the allusion to the
fruitful bough, spreading abroad in its luxuriant
growth. “ The archers have sorely grieved him, and
shot at him and hated him ; but his bow abode in
strength, pliant the power of his hands, made strong
by the hand of the mighty Jacob ” (De Wette), con
tinues the text. Now' it happens that immediately
after the sun has passed into Sagittarius, the head of
Taurus begins to set, whence we can easily conclude
as to the archer who shoots at him in hate. But the
whole of the matter here can only be satisfactorily
�Genesis ; 'Jacob''s Death Song,
iji
explained by referring to the Mithriac monuments,
delineations of several of which are given by Hyde in
his classical work, ‘Veterum Persarum et Medorum
Religionis Historia.” In these, Mithras the sun in
Taurus is represented on the back of a Bull, whose
side he pierces with a dagger, and its blood, the
symbol of life, flows down to vivify and fertilise the
earth, whilst a flying arrow is seen directed against
■ the breast of the animal, and the scorpion is observed
gnawing his genital organs.
“ Benjamin shall ravin as a wolf; in the morning
he shall devour the prey, and at night he shall divide
the spoil.”
This tribe bore the wolf on its banner, and one of
the ancient eastern symbols of the sign Gemini is the
wolf. Further, Gemini was the sign in which the
god with the dog or wolf’s head, Anubis, had his
station, who, besides announcing the rise of the Nile,
was also the planet Mercury, which changes alter
nately and so rapidly from an evening to a morning
and from a morning to an evening star, whence the
possible allusion to the prey and the spoil in connec
tion with the night and the morning P
In concluding his death song, Jacob commands his
sons assembled around him, precisely as he had com
manded Joseph individually in the first account we
had of the death-bed scene, not to bury him in Egypt,
but with his fathers in the cave that is in the field of
Machpelah, which Abraham bought with the field of
Ephron the Hittite for a burying-place. Having
made an end of commanding his sons, he brought his
feet together on the bed and departed, and was
gathered to his people.
p.The .writer mainly followed in the above astrological ex
position is Sir W. Drummond, in his ‘ CEdipus JudaicuS;’ with
some hints from Nork’s ‘ Biblische Mythologie.’ Where the
Scripture texts given differ from the accredited English ver
sion, De Wette’s unrivalled translation of the Bible has been
followed.
�132
The Pentateuch.
What is the conclusion now come to by the abler
and better informed of the critical exponents of the
Hebrew Scriptures in regard to the prophetical death
song of J acob ?
That it is a poetical prophecy after the event, largely
interlarded with allegorical and astrological matter,
and not composed, in all probability, until after the
epoch of the Kings of Judah. Dr Davidson agrees
with those critics who think it may have been written
by Nathan (vide ‘ Introduction to Old Testament,’ i., p.
198). “ The Deity,” says this ripe scholar, able critic,
and liberal theologian, “ did not see fit, so far as we
can judge, to impart to any man like Jacob the know
ledge of future and distant events. Had he done so,
he would not have left him to speak on his death-bed
like an Arab chief of no higher blessings to his sons
than rapine and plunder, and without the least refer
ence to another and better state of existence on which
he believed he should enter, and on which he might
counsel his sons to act continually.” That the death
song is allegorical is obvious enough to us, and
if it have the astrological meaning assigned to it by
such scholars and thinkers as Kircher, Jablonski,
Dupuis, Drummond, and Nork, it seems as if it could
only have been produced after the Babylonian cap
tivity, when the Jews had received a lesson in the
astrological lore of the Chaldeans ; they themselves
up to the time of the exile appearing to have been
profoundly ignorant of all beyond the fact that there
were lights in the sky—sun, moon, planets, and fixed
stars, which influenced them as they fancied in their
estates, and were set in heaven, moreover, for their
peculiar advantage.
Joseph and his brethren, now reconciled, like
dutiful sons, carry out their father’s injunctions in
regard to the burial ?
Joseph commands his servants the physicians to
embalm the body of his father Jacob, and having the
�Genesis:
Joseph.
ijj
Pharaoh’s leave of absence he sets out with all the
adult members of his father’s house for the land of
Canaan, where, after a grievous mourning, charac
terised in the text as “ the mourning of the Egyptians,”
he buries his father. He then returns to Egypt with
his brethren, who fearing that Joseph would now hate
them, their father being dead, and requite them for
the evil they had done him, send a messenger to him
and entreat forgiveness for their trespass and their
sin.
Joseph, as we know him, does not deny them ?
“ Fear not,” he says ; “for stand I not under God ?
Ye thought evil against me, but God turned it to
good, to bring it to pass as it is this day, to save
many people alive. Now therefore fear ye not; I will
care for you and for your children. And he com
forted them and spake kindly to them.” (Eng. vers,
and De Wette.)
Joseph lives long in Egypt, and sees the children
of the third generation of Ephraim his son; the chil
dren also of Machir, the son of Manasseh his own son,
were brought up on his knees—this implies a long
life ?
Joseph, according to the text, lives a hundred and
ten years and then dies. Before being gathered to
his fathers, however—and we might say as matter of
course and in emulation of his father Jacob—he says
to his brethren : “ God will surely visit you and bring
you out of this land unto the land which he swore to
Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob.” He also takes an
oath of his kinsmen binding them to carry his bones
from Egypt to the ancestral burying-place in the land
of Canaan. His life at an end, his body is embalmed
and put into a coffin in Egypt.
�APPENDIX.
(a.) genesis of the earth.
The elements and their compounds probably ex
isted at first in states far different from those in
which they now present themselves : water as oxy
gen and hydrogen; the saline, earthy, and metallic
oxides, carbonates, chlorides, &c., in the form of their
constituent elements. A vast amount of heat must
also have been set free whilst the atmosphere and
crust of the earth were undergoing condensation and
consolidation from the gaseous and vaporous into the
liquid and solid states in which they now exist, which
could not all have been dissipated in space, and so
lost to the earth. Concentrated into mighty flashes of
lightning—electric sparks of portentous power,—it
was probably used in bringing into play the elective
affinities of the elements or simple substances, and so
producing the compounds in which we now meet with
them, the heat itself from sensible becoming latent in
these.
(b.) the confusion of languages.
Can any reasonable explanation be given of the
myth of the Tower of Babel ?
From its geographical position on the Euphrates—
now a sedge-grown stream creeping sluggishly along
among sand-banks and over shallows, but in former
ages rolling a much mightier tide to the sea—Babylon
�Appendix.
135
lay in the direct line of communication between the
East and the West. This naturally brought men of
different tongues together, and after the wars of
Nebuchadnezzar and his deportations from the con
quered countries it became a kind of centre in which
numerous different races of the human family were
made to congregate. Hence, such the diversity of lan
guage said to have prevailed that the inhabitants of
one quarter of the great city did not understand the
tongue of those of another. The inventor of the
mythical tale may have been one of the deported
Israelites, and well acquainted with the confusion of
tongues that prevailed in Babylon.
(C.) TEMPTATION OF ABRAHAM.
Have we not parallels in the old mythologies of
like intended but interrupted sacrifices of children by
their fathers ?
We have already referred to one at least where the
sacrifice is said to have been completed: Kronos,
arrayed in his royal robes, to stay a pestilence, offered
up his son Jehud to his father Uranos. But Athamas,
King of Iolchos, about to sacrifice his son to Jupiter
Laphystius, in fulfilment of the terms on which he
held his kingdom, like Abraham, wras prevented, the
god considerately substituting a golden-fleeced ram
for the son; Iphigenia, about to bleed on the altar of
Diana, was replaced by a hind, &c.
�
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Victorian Blogging
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A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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Conway Hall Library & Archives
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2018
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
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The Pentateuch in contrast with the science and moral sense of our age. Part III: [Thora - the Law]
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Willis, Robert
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Place of publication: London
Collation: 135 p. ; 18 cm.
Notes: "By a Physician". Author believed to be Robert Willis. From the library of Dr Moncure Conway. Includes bibliographical references.
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Thomas Scott
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1873
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CT125
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Bible
Judaism
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07
THE PENTATEUCH
IN CONTRAST WITH
THE SCIENCE AND MORAL SENSE
OF OUR AGE.
By
A
PHTSICIAN.
PART II.
“Zufallige Geschichtswahrheiten konnen der Beweis von nothwendigen
Vernunftswahrheiten nie werden ” — Contingent historical truths can never be
demonstration of necessary rational truths.—Lessing.
PUBLISHED
BY
THOMAS
SCOTT,
NO. II THE TERRACE, FARQUHAR ROAD, UPPER NORWOOD
LONDON, S.E.
1873.
Price Sixpence.
��THE BOOK OF EXODUS.
MOSES—THE FLIGHT FROM EGYPT—THE
WILDERNESS—LEGISLATION.
HE descendants of Jacob, sur named Israel,
called Israelites and children of Israel, increased
amazingly, according to the text, “ multiplying and
waxing exceeding mighty, so that the land was
filled with them,” the effect of which is said to have
been— ?
That the jealousy of the Egyptians their masters
was roused, and the Pharaoh, or king, fearing that,
in case of war with a neighbour, they might join the
enemy, fight against him, and so “ get him out of the
land,” therefore were taskmasters set over them to
afflict them, and make their lives bitter with hard
bondage in brick and mortar and service in the fields ;
the straw held needful in brick-making, among other
things, being finally withheld, whilst the tale of bricks
made was required to be the same as before.
Bricks and mortar, we may presume, from their
being particularly mentioned, were the materials
employed by the Egyptians in their buildings ?
The great structures of Egypt, nevertheless, appear
to have been invariably built of stone without mortar.
The temples and palaces of Babylon and Nineveh,
however, were uniformly built of brick and mortar.
In the hard bondage in brick and mortar of the text
we have, therefore, one of the many traits to be had,
when they are looked for, of the age and authorship
T
L
�138
The Pentateuch.
of the Pentateuch • the compiler of which was neither
Moses nor any contemporary of his, but one who
must have lived after the Babylonian Captivity, and
had had, as it seems, occasion to learn something of
the art and mystery both of brick-making and brick
laying—arts little practised either in alluvial Egypt
or rocky Palestine, but pursued as a principal industry
around Babylon and Nineveh on the clay bottoms of
the Euphrates and Tigris.
The Pharaoh of Egypt is said to have fallen on
what seems an extraordinary device to keep down
the numbers of the now obnoxious Israelites?
He speaks to the Hebrew midwives—Shiphrah
and Puah—the names of these women, strange to
say, having survived the wreck of ages ! and orders
them, when they do their office by the Hebrew
women, to kill all the male children, but to save
the females alive.
A most unkingly command; no less unkingly than
unlikely ever to have been given. In a despotic
country like Egypt, however, the midwives would have
nothing for it but to obey ?
So we should have thought; but they, according to
the text, set the king’s order at defiance: “They
feared God,” it is said, and spared the lives of both
the male and female Hebrew children.
Pharaoh would punish the midwives, as matter of
course, for their contempt of his royal commands ?
So might we also fairly have supposed that he would;
but the midwives plead in excuse that “ the Hebrew
women are lively, and are delivered ere the midwife
can come in to them.”
This needed not to have hindered them from carry
ing out the Pharaoh’s orders F
Certainly not; for the new-born child must have
come immediately into their hands—the first moment
under any circumstances at which they could have
obeyed the ruler. But, as if the tale were made to
�Exodus : Israel in Egypt.
139
bear witness to its own. absurdity, we learn that not
only did Pharaoh not punish the contumacious mid
wives, Shiphrah and Puah, but even rewarded them
by building houses for them !
Failing to enlist the two midwives—two midwives
for the service of a people who must have been mil
lions in number, if every part of the narrative be true
—what is said to have been the Pharaoh’s next move
against his obnoxious slave-subjects, the children of
Israel?
He charges them, saying : “ Every son that is born
ye shall cast into the river, and every daughter ye
shall save alive;” transferring his orders, set at
nought by the midwives, to the parents of the children
themselves.
Such an order is surely as little likely as the one that
goes before it, either to have been given by a king to
any section of his subjects as it was to be obeyed by
them ?
No command of the kind is recorded in the annals
of any other policied or even semi-savage community.
More than this, the Nile was a sacred stream, furnish
ing the sole water-supply of the country; and the
signal progress the Egyptians had made in civilisation,
even at the early date to which the records we are
discussing refer, assures us that all pollution of the
river by dead bodies and the like must have been for
bidden. The dead were not even buried in the soil
of the cultivated lands of Egypt, but, being em
balmed, were stowed away beyond the reach of the
inundation.
Looking at the Hebrew scriptures in the way we
do, as ordinary literary compositions, what might we
say was the writer’s object in the narrative before us ?
That it is contrived, all unartistic as it is, by way
of prologue to the story of the wonderful manner in
.which the life of the male child Moses was preserved.
The future leader and legislator of the chosen people
�140
The Pentateuch.
could not be left with the uneventful entrance into
the world that is the lot of ordinary men. His life
must be in danger from his birth, and miraculously
guarded; he must be the nursling and adopted son of
a queen or of a king’s daughter at the least. And so
it all falls out. Born of parents of the house of Levi,
as it is said, the mother of the future leader conceals
his birth for three months, and then exposes him in
an ark or cradle of bulrushes which she lays among
the flags by the river’s brink. The daughter of
Pharaoh comes down “ to wash herself at the river,”
and, seeing the cradle, she sends her maid to fetch it.
There she finds the infant; presumes that it is one of
the Hebrews’ children, and, instead of ordering it to
be thrown into the river, as a dutiful daughter would
have done, in obedience to her royal father’s orders,
she procures a nurse for it, who turns out to be its
own mother, and gives it the name of Moses—the
saved from the stream—because, as she says, “ I
drew him out of the water.”
With such a nurse the child was likely to do well ?
He throve, grew up, and became as a son to Pha
raoh’s daughter—no inquiry being made, we must
presume, by the princess’s father or mother how she
came by such a treasure !
The first incident recorded in the independent life
of Moses grown to man’s estate is of a somewhat
compromising nature ?
Seeing an Egyptian smiting an Hebrew, one of his
brethren, and looking this way and that, to make sure
that he himself was seen of none, he slew the Egyp
tian and hid his body in the sand.
This was surely murder, against the laws of God
and man ?
It was no less ; but it is not so characterised, and
is not meant to be so considered, in the narrative,
nor has it wanted apologists among modern writers.
Murder, however, as the saying is, will out, and the
�Exodus : Moses at Horeb.
14-1
deed must have got wind; for, seeing two of his own
people contending on the very next day, and saying
to him who began the fray: Why smitest thou thy
fellow ? he is met by the counter question: Intendest thou to kill me as thou killedst the Egyp
tian ? Learning by this that what he had done was
known, he had to seek safety in flight from the justice
of the country. He flies, therefore, and comes to the
land of Midian, where he abides, as shepherd, appa
rently, with Beuel, the priest of the country, one of
whose daughters, Zipporah by name, he by-and-by
receives to wife.
The next incident in the life of Moses that is re
corded is a very remarkable one ?
Whilst keeping the flock of his father-in-law (now
called Jethro) in the desert by Horeb, the mountain
of God, the angel of Jehovah appears to him in a
flame of fire out of the midst of a bush, which burned
yet was not consumed. Astonished at the appear
ance of a bush on fire yet not consumed, he turns
“ aside to see the great sight why the bush was not
burnt,” and is then addressed by a voice calling to
him out of the midst of the bush, saying: Moses!
Moses ! and Moses answers, “ Here am I.” Ordered
to put off his shoes from his feet, for the ground on
which he stood was holy ground, he is then informed
by the speaker that he is the God of Abraham, of Isaac,
and of Jacob; that he had seen the affliction of his
people in Egypt, and was come down to deliver them
out of the hand of the Egyptians, to bring them into
a land flowing with milk and honey, and to settle
them there in place of the Canaanites, Horites,
Hittites, Amorites, and others already in possession
of the country. “ Come, now, therefore,” proceeds
the narrative, “ I will send thee unto Pharaoh that
thou mayest bring my people the children of Israel
’ out of Egypt.”
To this extraordinary intimation, so delivered,
Moses makes answer— ?
�142
The Pentateuch.
“ Who am I,” says he, “ that I should go unto
Pharaoh, and that I should bring forth the children
of Israel out of Egypt ? When I say to them that
the God of their fathers had sent me to them and
they ask me his name, what shall I say ?”
“ Thou shalt say I am that Am hath sent me. More
over, thus shalt thou say : Jehovah, the God of your
fathers, appeared unto me, saying: I have considered
you and what is done to you in Egypt; and I will
bring you up out of the affliction of Egypt unto a
land flowing with milk and honey; and they shall
hearken to thy voice; and thou shalt come, thou and
the elders of Israel, unto the King of Egypt, and
ye shall say unto him: Jehovah Elohim, the God
of the Hebrews, hath met us; and now let us go,
we beseech thee, three days’ journey into the wilder
ness that we may sacrifice to Jehovah our God.”
How can we, with the views of our age, conceive
God addressing man in human speech, or imagine
Moses asking God for his name, and God answering
first in abstract terms, and then more definitely, as if
he were but one among a number of gods, and the
particular God of the Hebrew people ? How, indeed,
think of Moses—scion, as said, of the house of Levi—
not knowing by what name the God of his kindred and
country was called ? The designation, I am that
Am, would scarcely have got him credit with his
people; and the name Jehovah now imparted to him,
far from helping, would only have earned him mis
trust ; for El, Elohe, Chiun, or Baal, in so far as we
know, appear to have been the names by which
God or the gods were known to the times in which
Moses is reputed to have lived ; neither he nor they
who for ages came after him having ever heard of
Jehovah. How, further, imagine God dealing deceit
fully with Pharaoh and ordering his messenger to sue
for leave to go a three days’ journey into the wilder
ness to offer sacrifice, when it was his purpose that the
�Exodus : Moses and Jehovah.
143
people should escape from Egypt altogether ? How,
Still further, and to go back, bring our minds to con
template the Supersensuous Infinite Cause we call
God as limited in space and hidden in a bush that
burned yet was not consumed ? How, in fine, believe
that God bade Moses put off his shoes from his feet,
for the ground he stood on was holy, as if any one
foot-breadth of earth were holier than another ?
How, indeed I But so stands it written in the text.
Something, however, may be said for the bush that
burned yet was not consumed ?
In so far as we know that Light and Fire were the
symbols of Deity to the whole of the ancient policied
world, and the Hebrews were scions of the Semitic
stock, the Light and Star worshippers of Chaldea
and Mesopotamia.
Determining to deliver his people, Jehovah would,
of course, smooth the way for their going by dis
posing the heart of Pharaoh favourably towards
them ?
So might we reasonably have expected; on the
contrary, however, he is made to say that he is sure
the King of Egypt will not let them go.
This seems strange to modern conceptions of God’s
providential dealings with the world. What may
have been the writer’s motive in ascribing such
words to God ?
To give him an opportunity, doubtless, of showing
his God, in conformity with the notions of unenlight
ened men, setting at nought the laws we now recog
nise as constituting the very essence of the Godhead,
“smiting Egypt with the wonders he would do in
their midst, getting him honour on the Egyptians,
and giving them to know that he was the Lord.”
God get him honour by smiting the Egyptians ! Do
we read aright ?
So says the text as well here as in several other
places yet to be considered.
�144
The Pentateuch.
God is also made by the scribe to give particular
instructions as to what the people are to do when at
length they find themselves at liberty to depart F
They are not to go empty, but are to borrow of
their neighbours jewels of silver and jewels of gold
and raiment, which they are to put upon their sons
and their daughters, and so spoil the Egyptians I
This is an extraordinary injunction made to come
from God F
It is no less; and the writer must have believed
that Jehovah had no more respect for the m&mn and
tuurn than he could have had himself when he put
such an order into the mouth of his Deity.
What happens when Moses, not taking the word
of his God of the burning bush as sufficient creden
tials to his countrymen, suggests that they will not
believe him, and will say that Jehovah had not really
appeared to him ?
Jehovah asks : What is that in thy hand F And he
said, a rod. Cast it on the ground, says Jehovah ; and
he cast it on the ground and it became a serpent, to his
horror, for he fled from it; but being commanded to
take it by the tail, it forthwith became a rod as
before.
And this was to satisfy the people that the God of
their fathers had appeared to him, Moses, and given
him his commission to them ! What would be thought
nowadays of the man who should say that God had
personally appeared to him, given him an important
commission, and as guarantee for the truth of his
statement performed a feat of the kind before an
assembly of people F
He would be regarded either as a madman or a
juggling impostor, most certainly as no ambassador
from God.
There is more of this preliminary miraculous, or
rather—and not to speak it irreverently—conjuring
matter F
�Exodus : Moses and Pharaoh.
145
Much : Moses is bidden in addition, and as a further
assurance to himself that it is Jehovah-God who
speaks with him, to put his hand into his bosom, and
when he takes it out again it is “ leprous as snow; ”
but returning it to his bosom and then withdrawing
it, “ it is as his other flesh.”
Do any of the diseases known to us by the name of
leprosy come and go in such sudden fashion ?
Several diseases now pass under this name, but
they are all alike of slow growth and generally of
difficult cure when they are not altogether incurable.
These signs, however, Moses is to exhibit to the
people in case of their proving incredulous of his
mission to them; and when he returns to Egypt,
should they not be convinced by such signs and
induced to hearken to his voice, he is then to take
water from the river and pour it on the land when it
should become blood. Furthermore, being slow of
speech himself, he is to prompt Aaron his brother,
“who can speak well,” and make of him his mouth
piece in his efforts to have Pharaoh grant their
petition. “ But I will harden his heart ” says Jehovah,
“ that he shall not let the people go; ” and so all
must necessarily prove in vain.
Moses from the above showing would seem to have
been of a somewhat sceptical temper, hard of belief,
Hot easily satisfied ?
As every reasonable man ought to be when extra
ordinary courses are prescribed, to him, and contra
ventions of the common course of nature are adduced
as evidence of a divine commission or command. But
God is far more indulgent to the doubts of Moses
than men in after times have commonly shown them
selves to the misgivings and questionings of their
brothers.
Pharaoh’s heart being hardened by Jehovah so that
he must refuse to let the people go, Moses is next to
say to him— ?
�146
The Pentateuch.
“ Israel is my son, my first-born ; let my son go ;
and if thou refuse to let him go I will slay thy son,
even thy first-born.”
What! in spite of the hardening the man’s heart
has undergone at the hands of Jehovah, which must
needs make him incapable of yielding ? And is it
possible to think of God threatening retaliation in any
event—retaliation above all for non-compliance with
an order which he himself has made it impossible
should be obeyed, and upon the unoffending first-born
of the land because of its ruler’s obstinacy ?
To the simple moral sense of intelligent man it is
indeed impossible to form such incongruous and un
worthy ideas of God and his dealings with the world.
The tale as it stands is no less irreverent than absurd.
It is not God who hardens the heart of man, but man
who is faithless to his better self when he yields the
sway to his animal appetites and passions, and turns
a deaf ear to the suggestions of his reason and higher
moral nature. Neither does God, like a spiteful man,
retaliate in any human sense for non-compliance with
his behests. Pharaoh by the usage of his age and in
virtue of ordinances propounded in these ancient
writings as from Jehovah himself was entitled to exact
all he required of his slave-subjects the Israelites.—But
to proceed, we have now to note an extraordinary in
terruption of the narrative at this place by the inter
polation of a few verses, the significance of which has
sorely tried the ingenuity of bible-expositors. “ By the
way, in the Inn,” it is said, “ Jehovah came upon him
(Moses) and sought to kill him; and Zipporah took
a knife and cut off the foreskin of her son and cast it
at his feet, and said : A bloody bridegroom art thou to
me I And he let him go. She said : blood-bridegroom,
because of the circumcision.” (De Wette.)
What meaning can we possibly attach to this piece
of information. What is to be thought of Jehovah
coming upon Moses and seeking to kill him ?
�Exodus: Moses and Jehovah.
147
In any literal sense it is impossible to say,—the
words have no meaning : had God sought to kill
Moses, he would not assuredly have failed of his
purpose.
And what farther of Zipporah circumcising her son,
casting the foreskin at “ his ” feet, and calling him a
blood or bloody bridegroom to her ?
Also impossible to say ; for the reason given : “ she
called him a bloody bridegroom because of the cir
cumcision,” does not help to any solution of the diffi
culty.
What yet farther of the phrase: “ So he let
him go ” ?
Still beyond our power to conjecture ; unless it
were said that Jehovah, propitiated by Zipporah’s act,
abandoned his purpose of killing Moses.
Has any other explanation of this episode in the life
of Moses been suggested ?
A learned writer conceives that Jehovah’s seeking
to kill Moses may be significant of a serious illness
that befel him at a certain time: and farther that his
recovery was only wrung from his God by the sacri
fice of more than the foreskin of his son; whence the
passionate exclamation of Zipporah.
*
Such an interpretation seems scarcely warranted by
anything in the text as it stands ?
It is not; but the text of the old mythical tale is
obviously imperfect; made so, it may be, by its modern
editor, who, finding matter in it offensive to the ideas
of the times in which he lived and wrote, has substi
tuted circumcision for sacrifice. The interpretation of
the German writer is fully borne out by the whole of
the blood-stained ritual of the Hebrew religious
system, the sacrifice of the first-born of man and beast
which so long formed one of its most essential
* See ‘Ghillanij Ueber den Menschen Opfer der alten
Hsebraaer : On the Human Sacrifices of the Ancient Hebrews,’
p. 683.
�148
The Pentateuch.
features, and the conclusion now generally come to
in regard to the rite of circumcision as signifying a
sacrifice to the reproductive principle in nature of
a small but significant part in lieu of the holocaust
of former days. The epithet bridegroom used by
Zipporah may find its explanation in a custom said
to have prevailed among Jewish mothers in a later
age, whilst stilling their newly circumcised sons, of
speaking to them as their little bridegrooms.
*
So improper and unprofitable a tale as that of God
seeking to kill a man and failing in his purpose, and
of a woman performing a painful and needless opera
tion on her child and then rating her husband and
calling him or her son her bridegroom, cannot surely
be presumed to come by the inspiration of God for
the guidance of mankind in morals and religion ?
Most assuredly it cannot. And so we may fancy
that the tale of Moses threatened to be slain is
given as a pendant to the one in which Jacob is said
to have been met in the dark by a man, who
turns out to be Jehovah himself, with whom he has
a wrestling bout; for each succeeding hero in the early
Hebrew records is more or less a copy of one who
has gone before. But it is more difficult in the present
instance to find a satisfactory interpretation of the
story than it was to elicit a meaning in conformity
with known mythological ideas for the other.
Moses and his brother Aaron, now associated with
him and fully instructed, proceed from Midian to
Egypt on their mission to the Pharaoh, with whom
they have an interview ?
They inform him that they have met with the God
of the Hebrews and petition for leave to “go three
days’ journey into the wilderness to sacrifice to their
God, lest he should fall on them with pestilence or
the sword.”
* See Dozy, 4 Die Israelite!! zu Mekka.’
S. 99.
�Exodus: Moses and Pharaoh.
149
But their God had not threatened anything of the
kind ?
He had not; but the pretext is notable as the first
instance on record in which Religion is made the
cloak to cover an ulterior design.
Pharaoh’s heart being hardened by Jehovah, he of
course refuses the suit ?
As matter of course, and it may be said of neces
sity. “Who is Jehovah,” asks Pharaoh, “that I
should obey his voice and let the people go ? I know
not Jehovah ; neither will I let Israel go.”
Pharaoh indeed could not have known anything of
Jehovah ?
No more than Moses himself, according to the tale ;
for it is only whilst receiving his commission that
he learns from the speaker of the burning bush that
it was he who had appeared to Abraham, Isaac and
Jacob as El-Schaddai, God the mighty, but by his
name Jahveh was he not known to them. Neither
indeed could Pharaoh have spoken of his Hebrew
slave-subjects as a people and by the name of Israel,
the title being of much more modern date than the
period referred to : Pharaoh’s Hebrew subjects were
his slaves.
Pharaoh, reasonably enough, therefore does not
credit the envoys, and in pursuance of the gist of the
story proceeds to impose yet heavier tasks on the
Israelites. What does Moses on the Pharaoh’s refusal
of his petition ?
He returns into the land of Midian, we must
presume, for the Hebrew God was not ubiquitous,
and reproaches him with having sent him on an use
less errand : “ Lord,” says he, very irreverently as
it seems, “why hast thou so evil entreated this
people ? why is it that thou hast sent me ? for since I
came to Pharaoh to speak in thy name, he hath done
evil to this people ; neither hast thou delivered them
at all.”
�150
The Pentateuch.
Does not Jehovah take Moses to task for this dis
respectful and reproachful address ?
By no means; he merely says to him : “ Now shalt
thou see what I will do to Pharaoh. Through strength
of hand shall he let them go, and by strength of hand
shall he drive them out of his land; return ye there
fore to Pharaoh, and when he asks for a sign saying :
Show a miracle for you, then thou shalt say unto
Aaron : Take thy rod and cast it before Pharaoh, and
it shall become a serpent.”
Returning to Egypt and doing as directed, the sign
ordered by Jehovah will, we may presume, have a
notable effect on Pharaoh ?
Strange to say, however, it has none. He calls the
magicians of Egypt, his own wise men, and they with
their enchantments do as much as the delegates of
Jehovah ; they do more, in fact, for they every one cast
down their rods, and each rod turns into a serpent!
But the serpent of Jehovah’s men proves itself
superior to the serpents of Pharaoh’s conjurors ?
By swallowing the whole of them !
And details of such jugglery as this are presented
to us in evidence of God’s power and purpose, through
the minds of inspired men, to guide and inform us ?
The writer, no doubt, believed in magic and con
juring, and so makes his God a magician and con
juror. The serpent-feat of Moses and Aaron, how
ever, paralleled by the court magicians, is not striking
enough to induce Pharaoh to let the Israelites go;
and, indeed, how should it ? His heart is hardened
by Jehovah, and he cannot yield; neither is it in
tended that he should. Moses is therefore to address
him again; and, as it is foreseen that he will still
hold out, the envoy is to turn the water of the Nile
into blood by striking it with his magic wand, the
effect of which will be that the river shall stink, the
fish die, and the water become unfit for the people to
drink.
�Exodus : Moses and Pharaoh.
151
So formidable a visitation, unless immediately re
dressed, must have proved universally destructive,
and not to the fishes only in the stream, but to the
whole of the living creatures ou its banks—to man
and beast, oppressors and oppressed alike, and must
needs have forced the Pharaoh instantly to relent ?
We learn, nevertheless, that it does not; neither
do we discover that the water of the country turned into
blood, stinking and destructive to the fishes, has any
ill effect on the people or their cattle, as if fishes
alone of living things must have water! The Pha
raoh persists in his refusal—a course in which he is
encouraged by his magicians, who with their en
chantment do again precisely what Moses and Aaron
are said to have done; for they, too, says the narrative,
turned all the water of the country into blood;—
whence the water came on which they practised we
are not informed.
The inhabitants and animals of a country cannot,
however, live without water ; and the dilemma into
which the writer has fallen by cutting off the supply
from the river being seen by him, he makes the
people dig wells to meet their wants. But could
they have found water by their digging ?
They could not; for the river being the sole source
whence the water of Egypt is derived, if it were
turned into blood the wells which it fed must have
furnished blood also.
Can water be turned by any process, natural or
magical, into blood ?
We throw the magic overboard, and say that God,
by his eternal laws, has declared that it cannot.
Water is a simple binary compound of the two che
mical elements, oxygen and hydrogen; blood a com
plex quaternary compound of oxygen, hydrogen, car
bon, and azote—the elements, moreover, here existing
in a peculiar state of molecular arrangement not seen
in the inorganic realm of nature. But art is incom
�I52
The Pentateuch.
petent to create chemical elements, or to force such
as exist into combinations out of conformity with
natural law. Water is water in virtue of one of the
great all-pervading laws of the inorganic world, and
blood only makes its appearance when the organising
force inherent in nature comes into play and living,
sensient, self-conscious creatures rise into existence.
The turning of the waters of Egypt into blood
must therefore be an impossibility ?
It is no less, in virtue of laws consentient with the
existence and definite properties of matter.
The next move made by Moses and Aaron will
, surely induce Pharaoh, in spite of the hardening of
heart he has received at the hands of Jehovah, to
relent ?
Although the river has been turned into blood, has
become stinking, so that all the fishes have died, and
the people cannot drink of it, he still persists in his
obstinacy. Moses is then commanded by Jehovah to
say to Aaron : Stretch forth thine hand with thy rod
over the streams, the rivers, and the ponds, and cause
frogs to come up over the land of Egypt.
The writer would seem here to be drawing after
what he saw in Palestine, his native country, where
there are the Jordan and numerous smaller streams
and rivulets; in Egypt there is one great river, but
no secondary streams, though, doubtless, there were
then as now innumerable ditches for irrigation and
ponds for supply. The frogs, however, come up in
spite of the circumstances that must have made it as
impossible for them as for the fishes to live; for the
river has been turned into blood, and we have not
had it restored to its natural condition.
They come up and cover the land of Egypt, making
their way into the houses, the beds, the kneading
troughs, and even the ovens !
The feat of the frogs would surely be found to
exceed the powers of the magicians to imitate ?
�Exodus: Moses and Pharaoh.
153
It is said not; they too brought up frogs over the
land-—small thanks to them!—for by so doing they
could only have made matters worse, if worse may
be imagined.
So formidable a nuisance so increased must have
brought Pharaoh to his senses and induced him to
relent ?
For a while it seems to have had this effect; but
only for a while. “Intreat Jehovah,” says he be
seechingly to Moses and Aaron, “ that he may take
away the frogs from me and my people, and I will
let the people go, that they may sacrifice to Jehovah.”
Moses improves the occasion with this show of
relenting on the part of Pharaoh ?
He is not slow to do so, and says: Resolve me
when I shall intreat for thee and for thy people the
removal of the frogs—in the river only shall they
stay. To which Pharaoh meekly and oddly enough
replies : “ To-morrow,” instead of to-day ! “ Be it
according to thy word,” rejoins the envoy, “that
thou mayest know that there is no God like unto
Jehovah our God.”
Moses is made to speak here as if he acknowledged
the existence of other gods besides Jehovah ?
He is made to speak as, doubtless, the writer be
lieved the fact to be: Jehovah, to Moses and the
early Hebrews, was no more than one, albeit the
greatest, among the gods. He is the God of Miracle
also, opposed to the God of Law, and so assuredly
not the true God.
Intreated by Moses, Jehovah causes the frogs to
die out of the houses and fields, and they are gathered
into heaps, so that the land stank. Pharaoh, we may
presume, will now keep his word and suffer the people
to depart ?
The respite he obtains makes him give signs of
yielding; but the wonder-working powers of Jehovah
through his agents not being yet sufficiently shown
M
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The Pentateuch.
forth, he is made by the writer to relapse into his
hardness of heart. The dust of the ground, conse
quently, is now smitten, and is turned into lice
{kinnim, properly gnats), which crawl over man
and beast, and now only is it that the Egyptian
conjurors are found wanting. They cannot imitate
the Hebrew wonder-workers : they did with their
enchantments try to bring forth lice, says the text,
but they could not—very happily, we may be per
mitted to add—and they say to Pharaoh : This is the
finger of God. But Pharaoh’s heart being hardened
by Jehovah, he heeded them not. Why they should
have found it harder to turn dust into lice than
rods into serpents or water into blood, and to call up
swarms of frogs from the ditches at the word of
command, does not appear. And how the despotic
Pharaoh of Egypt should have been so indulgent as to
suffer Moses and Aaron to afflict his people with such
a succession of scourges, instead of throwing them
into prison or shortening them by the head, is surely
as much of a miracle as any of those we have had
detailed.
How are frogs and lice produced under God’s own
natural law ?
Frogs once a year, on the return of spring, from
spawn that has been maturing in the body of the female
parent from the same period of the preceding year;
lice from eggs called nits, which are attached to the
hair and clothes of the lousy, and are hatched at all
seasons of the year; frogs and lice being alike the
product of pre-existing kinds, male and female, and
alike requiring a certain time before they can be
hatched ; frogs, moreover, having to pass some weeks
in the tadpole state previous to appearing in their
proper definite shape.
Do we in the present day ever see any such pro
duction of living creatures, whether of higher or
lower type in the scale of being, as is here said to
have taken place ?
�Exodus: Moses and Pharaoh.
155
We do not; but we are privileged to see what, by
a metaphor, may be spoken of as the finger, and far
more appropriately as the mind, of God, in the har
monious and invariable sequences of nature; and
seeing so much, we are bound to acknowledge neither
interruption nor contravention of the all-pervading
laws—expressions of the Godhead—that rule the
universe in its measureless immensities as in its
individual atoms.
But Pharaoh, when he finds his wise men at their
wits’ end, and referring the production of the lice to
the finger of God, will give in and let his bonds
men go ?
Not yet; though with the plague of flies which
has now to be endured he yields so far as to say to
Moses that he and his people were at liberty to sacri
fice to their God, so as they did it in the land. But
this did not suit the views of Moses, who answers :
Lo, it is not meet to do so; for we shall sacrifice
the abomination of the Egyptians unto Jehovah
our God.
What may be understood by the objection made
by Moses ?
The text does not help us to any interpretation of
its meaning. There is no hint in any preceding
part of the book that the Hebrews were ever inter
fered with by the Egyptians in their religion—we
know nothing, indeed, of the religion of the Israelites
during the long period of their servitude in Egypt—
or that they were required to conform to the religious
system of their masters. Neither is Moses’ objection
taken so much to any sense he may have entertained
of the impropriety of the sacrifice referred to in itself,
as to the danger to the Israelites that might accom
pany its performance, for he says: Lo, shall we
sacrifice the abomination of the Egyptians before
their eyes and will they not stone us ? What the
abomination of the Egyptians may have been we are
�i$6
The Pentateuch.
not informed. Shepherds are said to have been an
abomination to the Egyptians, but not sheep; they
are reputed, indeed, to have objected to mutton as
food, but they sacrificed rams to their god Amun.
Pharaoh again shows signs of relenting. Twill let
you go, says he now, that ye may sacrifice to Jehovah
your God in the wilderness ; only ye shall not go
very far away ; intreat for me, adds the sorely-tried
and singularly submissive sovereign. So Moses
intreats Jehovah, and the plague of flies is abated.
But Jehovah, according to the record, having other
and more terrible wonders in store whereby he should
further “ proclaim his power and make his name
known throughout all the earth,” Pharaoh’s yielding
is only for a day.
_ Among the number of new plagues inflicted in this
view we find enumerated— ?
A murrain, which killed all the cattle of the Egyp
tians, but spared those of the Israelites, not one of
these being lost; an epidemy of blotches and blains
upon man and beast, to bring about which we for the
first time find certain physical means prescribed by
Jehovah : Moses is to take handfuls of ashes from the
furnace and scatter them toward heaven, the effect of
which would be that wherever the dust fell there
should follow boils and blains upon the flesh.
Would casting cart-loads of furnace ashes into the
air cause blotches and blains upon the men and cattle
of a country a thousand miles and more in length ?
It were absurd to suppose that it would; wood
ashes, used as directed, could only have caused in
flammation of the eyes among such as were somewhat
near at hand. To abrade the skin, wood-ashes must be
mixed with quicklime and applied moist to its surface.
What further plagues or calamities do we find
enumerated ?
A grievous hailstorm, such as had not been seen in
Egypt since its foundation, with thunder and light-
�Exodus: Moses and Pharaoh.
157
ning and fire that ran. along the ground and smote
everything that was in the field—man and beast, herb
and tree, flax and barley; only “ in the land of
Goshen, where the children of Israel dwelt, was there
no hail; ” next we have
of locusts that came
up with an east wind—another physical agency—and
ate up all that had been spared by the hail; and then
a thick darkness in all the land for three days, so
thick that people “ saw not one another, even dark
ness that could be felt,—but the children of Israel
had light in their dwellings.”
Jehovah, the God of Moses, as pictured by the
Jewish writer, shows himself utterly ruthless in this ?
No doubt of it; but the writer’s purpose was to
show Jehovah, as patron God of the children of Israel,
superior to the gods of Egypt. His visitations must
obviously have affected the individual Pharaoh much
less than his subjects, whose hearts had not been
hardened for the occasion, like that of the ruler. To
have punished Pharaoh at all, indeed, when he was
only exercising his prescriptive rights, and must be
presumed to have lost all power of self-control—his
heart having been expressly hardened by Jehovah—
was manifestly unjust; and to make Jehovah spread
desolation over the land of Egypt, when he was him
self the author of its ruler’s obstinacy, can only be
characterised as derogatory to the Idea of God that
must be entertained by rational man, and at variance
with the goodness and mercy always associated with
the essential nature of Deity.
Considerations these which seem satisfactorily to
dispose of the Plagues of Egypt as occurrences
founded on fact ?
Effectually. And then murrain and pestilence and
the light of the sun make no distinctions, but by pre
existent eternal ordinances affect all that live alike.
The narrative, interrupted at this point, gives us
an opportunity of asking what we, as reasonable men,
�!58
The Pentateuch.
gifted with understanding and moral consciousness,
assured moreover of the changeless nature of God and
his laws, are to think of the long array of unavailing
miracles thus far detailed with wearisome prolixity,
and of the motive assigned for their exhibition ?
On such grounds we can but think of them as tales
of Impossibilities — Myths, Embodiments in language
of Ideas belonging to a rude and remote antiquity, and
worthy henceforth of notice only as records of erro
neous conceptions of the attributes of God and the
nature of his dealings with mankind and the world of
things. The means brought into requisition prove
inadequate to satisfy Pharaoh of the superiority of the
Hebrew wonder-workers over the magicians of his own
country, or of their God over the God whom he and
his people adore. JDid we think of God using means
to ends at all, which our philosophy forbids—purpose,
or end, mean and act being one in the nature of God,
and not distinct from one another, or sequences in
*
time —it were surely falling short of a worthy con
ception of The Supreme to imagine him making use
of any that were inadequate to the end proposed.
What is to be said of the reiterated allegation that
God so hardened the heart of Pharaoh that he would
not suffer the Israelites to be gone ?
That it is not only derogatory to the name of God,
but in contradiction with his avowed purpose, which
was from the first that the children of Israel should
quit Egypt and settle in the land of Canaan as his
peculiar people, in fulfilment of contracts entered
into with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the last of
them made some four hundred and thirty years before
the time at which Moses is believed to have appeared
on the scene ; for so long, according to the record,
was the interval between the date of Jacob’s arrival
in Egypt and that of the Israelites leaving it.
* See ‘ Dialogue by Way of Catechism,’ Part II. page 35.
�Exodus: Moses and Pharaoh.
159
Bu.t we have no information about the children of
Israel during the four hundred and thirty years of
their reputed sojourn in Egypt?
We have not a word of or concerning them through
the whole of this long time.
How then believe that we should have such par
ticular intelligence about Adam and Eve, Cain and
Abel, Noah and the flood, Lot and his daughters,
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, Joseph and his brethren,
&c. &c., comprising a period of a thousand years and
more, according to the computations of our Bible
chronologists ?
How, indeed, unless we assume that it reaches us
through the imaginations of writers who lived during
and after the era of the kings, the Babylonian Cap
tivity, and still later periods in the history of Judah
and Israel.
Pitiless as he has hitherto appeared, Jehovah will
now interpose, soften the heart of Pharaoh, and so
spare the unoffending Egyptian people from further
disasters ?
Not yet. Mercy, with the object the writer has in
view, must still be made foreign to the nature of his
God. Pharaoh does indeed now call Moses, and says :
Go ye; serve Jehovah ; only let your flocks and herds
be stayed. But Moses answers that they must have
the means of sacrificing to Jehovah their God. “ Our
cattle,” continues he, in the haughtiest tone, “ shall
go with us; there shall not a hoof be left behind.”
Jehovah, however, continuing to harden Pharaoh’s
heart, he will not suffer them to go. “ Get thee from
me,” says the now indignant and sorely-tried so
vereign ; “ take heed to thyself; see my face no more ;
for in the day thou seest my face thou shalt die.”
Moses, we may presume, will be more cautious in his
communications with such a threat hanging over him ?
So we might have expected; but he is more arro
gant and outspoken than ever, for he replies : “ Thou
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The Pentateuch.
hast spoken well—I will see thy face no more.” Yet
he does ; for, as the writer now makes Jehovah say :
“Yet will I bring one plague more upon Egypt;
afterwards he will let you go,” Moses has to return
to the presence with the following message : “ Thus
saith Jehovah : About midnight will I go out into the
midst of Egypt, and all the first-born in the land of
Egypt shall die, from the first-born of Pharaoh that
sitteth on the throne even unto the first-born of the
maid-servant that is behind the mill, and all the first
born of beasts. And there shall be a great cry
throughout all the land of Egypt, such as there was
none like it nor shall be like it any more. But against
any of the children of Israel there shall not a dog
move his tongue.”
Threatened with such calamities as the death of
his own first-born son, and the death of the first-born
of man and beast throughout his dominions, taught,
moreover, by the experience of preceding plagues,
Pharaoh will now assuredly take security against the
threatened visitation by laying hands on Moses,
whom he has already doomed to die did he venture
again to come before him ?
So might we reasonably have expected; but this
would not have tallied with the end the writer has
in view. Pharaoh is therefore made to forget his
purpose of putting Moses to death, and very incon
siderately, as it seems, to treat the announcement just
made as an idle threat. The envoy, consequently, is
left at large, and even goes out from the Pharaoh’s
presence “ in a great anger.” And so it comes to
pass, as had been predicted, that at midnight Jehovah
smote all the first-born both of man and beast in the
land of Egypt.
The wholesale slaughter of the Egyptians and their
cattle accomplished—by what means we are not in
formed, unless we take the text literally as it stands,
and assume Jehovah himself to have been the agent—
�Exodus : Egyptians and Israelites.
161
we learn that against the children of Israel not even
a dog was to move his tongue. The ground for the
distinction is plain enough: the Israelites were the
cherished, the Egyptians the hated, of Jehovah; but
there is a particular reason given for the heavy visi
tation which had now befallen the Egyptians ?
The reason assigned is this: “ That it might be
known how Jehovah had put a difference between
the Egyptians and Israel.”
What difference had God —and here we add, not
the Jewish Jehovah—really put between the Egyp
tian people and the children of Israel ?
God had made the Egyptians, as the superior race,
the masters; and the Israelites, as the inferior race, the
slaves. He had given the Egyptians the valley of the
Nile for an inheritance, and the ingenuity and industry
needful to turn it into “ the garden of the Lord,”
which it was; he had further made them astronomers,
architects,, engineers, sculptors, painters, inventors of
the loom and of paper; contrivers of more than one
system of writing, and familiar, besides, with many
of the most useful and elegant arts of settled and
civilised life—workers in gold and silver and precious
stones, &c. Morally and religiously, moreover, he
had enabled them to approximate to the idea of the
Oneness of Deity though seen under various aspects
—here propitious, there adverse—and led them to
the great conception of Duty or Responsibility for
their doings in the present life to be answered for in
a life to come.
And the Hebrews or Israelites ?
God had left in the lower grades of neat-herds,
shepherds, labourers in the fields; settlers by suffer
ance if not by compulsion in an outlying district of
their masters’ territory, ignorant of astronomy,
architecture, mechanics, sculpture, and of every one
of the arts that “put a difference” between the
nomad barbarian or savage and the policied citizen of
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The Pentateuch.
the settled State : he had conferred on. them no fine
sense of the distinction between the mine and the
thine ; and to conclude, had left them without the
conception of a judgment and immortality beyond
the present state of existence.
The first-born of man and beast in the land of
Egypt, then, are smitten, and Jehovah has now,
according to the veracious writer, had sufficient
opportunity of displaying his power over the Gods of
Egypt and the Egyptians themselves. The Israelites
may therefore at length be suffered to depart ?
Brought to his senses at last, — or shall we say
taught by the terrible calamities that had befallen his
people, yielding to the pressure of circumstances and
getting the better of the hardness of heart imposed
on him by Jehovah, Pharaoh is now as urgent with
the Israelites to be gone as he had hitherto been reso
lute to keep them from going. Rising up in the
night and summoning Moses, he says: “ Get you
forth from among my people both you and the chil
dren of Israel, and go and serve Jehovah, as ye have
said ; take also your flocks and your herds and be
gone.” The Egyptians too were urgent upon the
people that they might send them out of the land in
haste, for they said: “We be all dead men.”
The Israelites on their part, though the permission
to depart must have come on them unexpectedly, are
not slow to take Pharaoh at his word or remiss in
yielding to the urgency of their masters ?
They pack up their kneading troughs at once in
their clothes with the dough that is in them; but
they do not neglect the order they had received to
borrow of their neighbours jewels of silver and jewels
of gold and raiment, with which and their own be
longings they set off immediately on their journey
towards the promised land.
Can we imagine the Egyptians ready to lend their
jewels of silver and gold and their garments to
�Exodus : The Israelites quit Egypt.
163
people—their slaves—whom they were driving out of
their country with as little prospect as wish ever to
see them again ?
It certainly is not easy under the circumstances to
imagine any such favourable disposition on the part
of the Egyptians.
When men borrow, it is still with the understand
ing that they are to make return, as when they lend
that they are to have return made ?
There appears to have been no such understanding
in the present instance, on one side at all events.
Jehovah, it is even said, “ gave the people favour in
the sight of the Egyptians, so that they lent them all
they required, and they spoiled the Egyptians.”
But this makes Jehovah an aider and abettor in
the theft ?
No doubt of it. But the Jewish writer believed it
not only lawful but meritorious to spoil the enemies
of his people, and he does not scruple to make his
God of the same mind as himself. But the tale is
libellous and false; for God, the universal father,
emphatically forbids theft through the sense of the
mine and the thine implanted in the mind of man—
not to allude to the express commandment which a
later and more conscientious writer in the Hebrew
Bible sees fit to put into the mouth of his God when
he makes him say : Thou shalt not steal!
The Israelites fly or are driven out of Egypt at
last ?
The first-born of the land both of man and beast
being dead, there was no longer any ground for delay.
What extraordinary and utterly incomprehensible
means were used to accomplish the discriminating
slaughter of the first-born of the people and their
cattle in the course of a single night we are not in
this place informed; and the reason given for the sin
gular despite in which Jehovah is presented to us as
having held the Egyptians—the hard service in brick
�164
The Pentateuch.
and mortar imposed on the Israelites, to wit—
does not accord with the flourishing state in which
they meet us at the moment of the Exodus, millions
as they must have been in numbers, if they could
bring six hundred thousand able-bodied men into the
field with arms in their hands, possessed besides of
flocks and herds innumerable, and enjoying such
credit with the native people that they lent them
freely of all they had.
The slaughter of the first-born of Egypt must
therefore be another of the mythical tales contrived
by the writer to exalt and glorify in his own mis
taken way the tutelary God of his people, Jehovah ?
Let the candid reader, with any conception which
he as living in this nineteenth century of the Chris
tian era can form of the nature of God, answer the
question for himself by yea or by nay.
The narrative provokingly enough and on the very
eve of the Exodus is interrupted to speak of a change
to be made in beginning the year ; and, in immediate
connection with this change, of the institution of
the Passover and the dedication to Jehovah of the
first-born of man and beast among the children of
Israel?
Jehovah, says the record, now speaks to Moses and
Aaron in the land of Egypt, saying: <l This month
shall be to you the first month of the year,” without
naming the month. But we by-and-by discover that
it is Nisan, called Abib of old, that is meant; this
being the month in which the Exodus is believed to
have taken place, as it is known to be the one in
which the vernal equinox occurred in ancient times.
The notification, however, is prefatory and subordi
nate to the order for the celebration of the Passover,
which the writers of the Hebrew scriptures show
particular anxiety to connect with the escape from
Egypt,—which they would present in fact as a feast
commemorative of this event in the legendary annals
�Exodus : The Passover.
165
of their people, the whole procedure as set forth being
made to harmonise with this intention.
The rites connected with the celebration of the
Passover were peculiar and solemn ?
On the tenth day of the first month the head of each
house, or where the families were small, the heads of
two or more houses, were to take a lamb or kid, a
male of the first year, without spot or blemish, and
sever it from the flock until the evening of the four
teenth day, when it was to be killed. With a bunch
of hyssop dipped in the blood the lintels and door
posts of the houses were to be struck, and no one was
to leave his home until the morning. The carcase was
to be eaten in the night with unleavened bread and
bitter herbs, and it is particularly ordered that the
flesh shall not be eaten raw, nor sodden with water,
but roast with fire. The meal is farther to be de
spatched in haste, the people having their loins girded,
their shoes on their feet, and their staves in their
hands.
This is plainly enough an account by a relatively
modern writer of the way in which he imagines the
feast of the Passover might have been kept by his
forefathers on the eve of their flight from Egypt, and
so of the way in which it was ever after to be observed
in memory of that event. “ And it shall come to
pass,” says the record, “ when your children say unto
you : what mean ye by this service, that ye shall say :
It is the sacrifice of Jehovah’s passover, who passed
over the houses of the children of Israel in Egypt,
when he smote the Egyptians and delivered our
houses.”
The Passover, however, could not have been cele
brated in any such way by the Israelites on the eve
of their flight ?
There was no possibility of its having been so cele
brated, for they fled in such haste that they had no
time to leaven the dough that was in their kneading
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The Pentateuch.
troughs, much less to bake it. A family feast, more
over, is turned by the writer into a Sacrifice to Jehovah,
in every indispensable element of which it is wanting.
The reason for striking the lintels and door-posts
of the Israelites’ houses with the blood is not very
satisfactory ?
Being done to guide Jehovah in his visitation to
slay the first-born of Egypt, it meets us as a poor
contrivance of the writer : “ When I see the blood,”
says he in the name of his God, “ I will pass over you,
and the plague shall not be upon you to destroy you
when I smite the land of Egypt.” Jehovah must,
therefore, as he imagined, have required an outward
and visible sign to guide him in his acts of mercy as
of vengeance.
The colour of the blood may have had something
to do with the act enjoined ?
Red was the proper colour of the Sun-God, among
the ancients generally; and with the Egyptians came
into special use in the spring of the year for the
decoration of their dwellings, as well as the statues
of their Gods. The Hebrew writer would therefore
seem, after a play upon the word Pass or Passover
(Pesah in Hebrew, with which our word Transit
corresponds exactly), to be substituting red blood, for
the red paint of the Egyptians, Phoenicians, and other
cognate peoples, and using, as a safeguard for the
children of Israel, a sign which the Egyptians, from
time immemorial, had been wont to employ with a
view to ornament and propitiate their gods.
In immediate connection with this unsatisfactory
account of the institution of the Passover, we have
the dedication to Jehovah of the first-born among
the children of Israel themselves. He had slain the
first-born of the Egyptians, and must, as it appears,
have the first-born of the Israelites also ?
“ Sanctify to me all the first-born; whatsoever
openeth the womb among the children of Israel, both
�Exodus : Dedication of the First-born.
167
of man and beast, it is mine,” are the terrible words
in which Jehovah is made to announce his will.
It seems singular that the Jewish writers of the
Bible should manifest the same desire to connect the
sacrifice of their first-born with the most awful of the
incidents said to have accompanied the flight from
Egypt, as they show to associate the Passover with
this event ?
“ It shall be,” says the text, “ when thy son asketh
thee in time to come, saying : What is this F that thou
shalt say to him : By strength of hand Jehovah
brought us out from Egypt, from the house of
bondage; and it came to pass when Pharaoh would
hardly let us go that Jehovah slew all the first-born
in the land of Egypt, both the first-born of man and
the first-born of beast; therefore I sacrifice to Jehovah
all thatopeneth the matrix, being males ”—the words
being males must have been added, the requisition in
several other places being general.
Such a reason for such a sacrifice is surely neither
logical nor satisfactory. Because Jehovah slew all
the first-born of Egypt, therefore were the Israelites to
sacrifice all that opened the womb both of man and
beast among themselves ! They were to pay a much
heavier tax, in fact, than that exacted of the
Egyptians ; for the sacrifice of their children by the
Israelites was to be in perpetuity, whilst that of their
old oppressors had been required but once. How
should such an event as the escape from slavery,
only to be thought of as subject of rejoicing, be fitly
associated with the tears and heart-wringings of
parents that must needs accompany the immolation
of the first-born of their children ?
The dedication to Jehovah of the first-born of man
and beast can scarcely therefore have any connection
with the mythical slaughter of the first-born of Egypt,
the legendary flight from the country, or the feast of
the Passover ?
�i68
The Pentateuch.
There can be little question that it has none. The
consecration or making Clierem implying the neces
sary sacrifice to their God of all that opened the
womb is not so associated in other parts of the
Hebrew Scriptures. “ Sanctify to me all the first
born ; whatsoever openeth the womb among the
children of Israel, both of man and beast, it is mine,”
says the text already quoted (Exod. xiii. 2). “ The
first-born of thy sons shalt thou give to me,” says
another (Tb. xxii. 29). “All that openeth the
matrix is mine,” yet another (lb. xxxiv. 19). In
every instance, therefore, without reference to Egypt,
the Exodus, or any other event. The requirement is
absolute, unconnected with any historical or quasihistorical incident. The sacrifice of the first-born of
man and beast was in truth a custom sanctioned by
general usage among the whole of the Semitic tribes
or peoples and their colonies inhabiting Western Asia
and the shores of the Mediterranean Sea.
But the first-born of man are ordered to be re
deemed ?
Not as the ordinance stands where it is first met
and has not been tampered with, and as the custom
of child-sacrifice is repeatedly referred to in other
places, more especially by the prophetical writers.
The redemption clauses are all interpolations by later
hands; they had no place in the text even so late as
the time of Ezekiel; and then there is the positive
ordinance concerning things Cherem or devoted to
Jehovah, which puts redemption out of the question.
“None devoted, which shall be devoted of men shall
be redeemed, but shall surely be put to death ”
(Levit. xxvii. 29).
May not the Passover also have been a festival
having no connection with the Exodus from Egypt ?
There can be as little doubt of this as of the sacri
fice of the first-born of Israel having no reference to
the slaughter of the first-born of Egypt. The festival
�Exodus: The Passover.
169
galled Pesach by the Jews is a much older institu
tion than the notice we have of it in the Book of
Exodus. Its Hebrew name is exactly rendered as
said, by the English word Transit; and the transit
celebrated was no passage of Jehovah over the
Egyptians to destroy, or over the Israelites to spare,
but of the Sun over the Equator at the epoch of the
vernal equinox—a season of rejoicing that may be
said to have been universal among all the policied
peoples of antiquity, and that is still observed with
fresh accessories and under a new name in the world
of to-day; for the Easter of the present age is in
reality no other than the Pascha, Neomenia, and
Hilaria of the old world—a tribute Deo Soli Invicto.
Mounting from the inferior or wintry signs, trium
phant as it were over darkness and death, the Sun
then appears to bring back light and life to the
world; and the God he symbolized seems to have
been held entitled in return to a portion at least of
the good things so obviously and immediately de
pendent on his presence. Hence the offerings in the
spring of the year of the first fruits of the fields, the
sacrifice of the firstlings of the flocks and herds, and
at length, and as the influence of the offering on the
God was believed to rise in the ratio of its worth to
the giver, of the first-born of his sons by man—victim
of all others the most precious to him, and so thought
to be the most potent of all to propitiate the God.
The Passover may, therefore, have been truly a
solar festival, and by no means peculiar to the Israel
ites ?
The period of the year at which it was celebrated
suffices of itself to proclaim it a feast in honour of the
Sun, and the universality of its celebration over the
whole of the ancient world shows that the Israelites
only followed suit in its observance. But the great
Spring festival of the year has been obscured by the
miraculous and mythical wrappings in which it has
N
�V]O
The Pentateuch.
been presented by the Jewish post-exilic Jehovistic
writers, seeking to hide its meaning by turning this
among other Pagan observances of their age and
country into institutions appointed by their God
Jehovah through the agency of his servant Moses.
The Jewish writers, however, are not even agreed
as to the grounds they assign for the observance of
the Passover ?
In one place it is to be kept as a memorial feast
because the Israelites were spared the visit of the
destroying angel when the first-born of Egypt were
slain ; in another it is to be observed in memory of
their delivery from Egyptian bondage. But it was in
the spring time of the year that the barley harvest of
the East occurred ; and with the bringing of the first
sheaf as an offering to the Sun-God at the season of
his awakening from his death-like wintry sleep, and
the season of rejoicing’ then universally observed, was
by and by associated the legendary escape in exagge
rated numbers of the Israelites from Egypt and the
veritable sacrifice of the first-born of their sons.
The Jewish Passover is often said to have been
derived from the Egyptians ?
That the Israelites had various festivals in common
with the Egyptians and other ancient peoples is cer
tain. That they borrowed so much from Egypt as it
is often said they did is very questionable. Such a
conclusion would seem rather to be grounded on
assuming the large amount of influence which a people
so far advanced in civilisation as the Egyptians must
have had on the rude descendants of Jacob, than on
any strong resemblance between the social, political,
and religious ideas and doings of the Egyptians and
Israelites. To unprejudiced minds the Israelites, when
they meet us on the eve of the Exodus, and for ages
afterwards, appear as having profited so little by their
contact with the Egyptians that additional doubt is
thrown over the whole story of their relationship with
�Exodus: The Flight from Egypt,
171
the land of the Nile. For some ages after the reputed
epoch of the Exodus we never see the Israelites save
as a horde in quest of a settled home, at war with all
around them, and but little, if at all, removed from
utter barbarism.
Having spoiled the Egyptians to the utmost of the
borrowing and lending powers of the two parties, the
Israelites set off, a mixed multitude with flocks and
herds, “ even very much cattle.” We are not without
data from which their aggregate number may be
computed F
We have such in the “ Six hundred thousand on
foot that were men ” (Ex. xii., 87) ; “ six hundred
and three thousand five hundred and fifty from twenty
years old and upwards, all able to go forth to war in
Israel.” (Numb, i., 46.)
Such a number of able-bodied men, harnessed or
armed, as said, implies a gross population approach
ing three millions of souls ?
Something like that of the great city of London or
the whole of Scotland a few years ago !
And this vast multitude quit their homes in a single
night and betake themselves to the desert with no
other preparation iii the shape of supplies than the
dough that is in their kneading troughs ?
“ They were thrust out of Egypt, neither had they
prepared for themselves any victual.” (Ex. xii., 39.)
Without a word of the first requisite for even a
single day’s journey in the burning desert—water ?
There is nothing said about water.
What of the means of transport for the sick and
infirm, who must have numbered ten thousand at
least; for the three hundred women busy in bringing
children into the world, and something like the same
number of men and women going out of it—for so
many are ever thus engaged in a population approach
ing three millions in number during each day of the
year ?
�172
The Pentateuch.
There is nothing said of the sick and infirm, of the
parturient and the dying.
Then must the story in its proportions be a fable
involving contradictions innumerable and impossi
bilities in the nature of things. The whole population
of the valley of the Nile, from Nubia to the Mediter
ranean, did not probably at any time in its most
palmy days of old amount to so many as the Israelites
are said to have been when they fled, were driven out,
or were brought out from Egypt with a high hand, so
various are the words used in the accounts we have
of the way in which the Exodus was effected. Six
hundred thousand and odd able-bodied men with
arms in their hands needed to have asked no leave of
the Pharaoh of Egypt either to go or to stay. Instead
of fleeing to the desert on the faith of promised settle
ments in a land, even though reported to be flowing
with milk and honey, they would have been apt to
think that the fertile land of Egypt, watered by the
mysterious river which rose and fell no man knew
how, was possession preferable and enough. Instead
of consenting to the expulsion, they are allowed in more
than one place to have suffered, from the soil where
they had lived so long and grown to such a multitude,
they would most assuredly have either expelled or
enslaved where they had not slain their oppressors.
Instead of robbing them of their jewels of silver and
jewels of gold and fine raiment, anl stealing away like
thieves in the night, they would have installed them
selves in their masters’ places and taught them in
turn what it was to make mud bricks without
straw !
But this would have interfered with Jehovah’s pro
vidential arrangements for the settlement of his chosen
people in the land of Canaan ?
The providence of God is over all his works in
differently and alike. God was then as now the Father
of the Egyptian as of the Jew; more partial as parent
�Exodus: The Flight from Egypt.
173
to the Egyptian than to the Jew, indeed, were his love
to be truly tested by the Hebrew standard—the mea
sure of temporal good enjoyed.
The Jews did not think, and have not yet learned
to think, that God is verily the impartial parent of
mankind ?
No; they were, and still are, presumptuous enough
to fancy themselves the objects of their Jehovah’s
peculiar care; and the world may be said, in spite of
its persistently cruel treatment of their race, to have
been complacent enough to take them at their word.
Lately, however, there has been something like an
awakening out of this baseless dream; a suspicion has
at length got abroad in the world of the possibility of
its having been mistaken. With the recent discovery
of the Vedas and Zendavesta, the Buddhistic scrip
tures, and the Chinese moral writings, we have come to
know that other more ancient, more moral and better
policied peoples than the Israelites had also their sacred
books, though none of them presume, as do those of
this people, to make God the mouthpiece of some few
good and reasonable, yet of many bad, barbarous,
childish, objectionable, and indifferent ordinances, and
the immediate agent in innumerable cruel and un
justifiable acts.
The Israelites, however, escape or are driven out of
Egypt at last, and in such numbers, it is said, as plainly
appears impossible. Have we any clue to the way in
which the exaggerated multitude of the fugitives may
have been arrived at ?
.Curiously enough we have. In one of the latest
Midraschim—Hebrew Commentaries or Expositions of
the Law we possess (Jalkut Thora, 386), there is a
passage to this effect: “ God said to Moses : Number
the Israelites. Then said Moses: They are as the
sands of the sea ; how can I number them ? God
said : Not in the way thou thinkest of; but wouldst
thou reckon them, take the first letters of their tribes
�!74
The Pentateuch.
and thou hast their number.”* And sure enough, if
the numerical values of the initial letters of the names
of the twelve tribes be added together, the sum
that comes out is five hundred and ninety-seven
thousand ; to which if the three thousand slain on
occasion of the worship of the golden calf which
Aaron made be joined, the exact number of the men
in arms, as first given, six hundred thousand, is
obtained.
This, however, is not the only number of ablebodied men that is mentioned ?
Elsewhere (Ex. xxxviii., 26, and Numb, i., 46) it is
set down at “ six hundred and three thousand five
hundred and fifty men.”
There may perhaps be some recondite and not very
obvious way in which this number too may have been
arrived at ?
It tallies exactly with the number of bekahs or
half shekels said to have been produced by the
capitation tax imposed for erecting and furnishing the
Tabernacle. The whole amount collected is stated to
have been 100talents 1,775 shekels, = 301,775 shekels,
which x by two gives 603,550 shekels, the precise
number of the able-bodied men of the second Census.f
Once on their way, whither do the Israelites go ?
If it were towards the promised land they certainly
took a very roundabout road to reach it. Elohim,
it is said, led them not by the way through the land
of the Philistines, although that was near ; for Elohim
said : “ Lest peradventure the people repent when they
see war and they return to Egypt.” Elohim there
fore led them through the way of the Wilderness of
the Red Sea, from Rameses, whence they set out, to
Succoth and Etham in the edge of the Wilderness;
* Comp. ‘ Popper Der biblische Berichtuber die Stiftshiitte ;
ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der Composition und Diaskeuse des
Pentateuch.’ S. 196. 8vo. Leipz., 1862.
f ‘ Popper.’ Op. cit. P. 196.
�Exodus : The Flight from Egypt.
17 5
Jehovah (it is no longer Elohim) going before them
as a pillar of cloud by day, as a pillar of fire by night
to guide and light them on their way. But Moses
must have thought that a native of the country would
be a good addition as a guide through the trackless
waste ; he would not trust entirely to Jehovah’s pillar
of cloud and of fire—for he says to his brother-in-law,
Hobab the Midianite : “ Come thou with us ; thou
mayest be to us instead of eyes ; and it shall come to
pass, if thou wilt go with us, that what goodness
Jehovah shall do unto us the same shall we do unto
thee.” (Numb, x., 29-32.)
Jehovah, we might have imagined, as miracles were
so much in course, would have steeled the hearts of
the Israelites and made the hearts of all opposed to
them like wax, as he is said to have done on other
and later occasions. Why he did not see fit so to do
at this time, when it would have spared so much toil
and suffering, we are not informed. But where are
the places mentioned—Barneses, Succoth, and Etham ?
Rameses, a town and district on the Nile; Succoth,
a station (now unknown), presumably northward
from Rameses, in the direction of Palestine ; Etham,
a place east from Rameses, between thirty and forty
miles away, and not far from the northern extremity
of the western head of the Red Sea. Instead of
advancing from this, however, and nearing their
final destination, the Israelites are strangely enough
now ordered to turn and encamp before Pihahiroth,
between Migdol and the sea, over against Baalzephon on the opposite coast.
What extraordinary reason is given for this diver
gent course, and, in the event of any pursuit by the
Egyptians, ill-chosen position in a strategical point
of view ?
It was, according to the text, that Jehovah might
get him honour on Pharaoh and let the Egyptians
know that he was the Lord. “ For Pharaoh will say
�iy6
The Pentateuch.
of the children of Israel: They are entangled in the
land—the wilderness hath shut them in; and I will
harden the heart of Pharaoh that he shall follow after
them, and I will be honoured upon Pharaoh and
upon all his host.”
Pharaoh pursues the fugitives, to bring them back
we must presume, though he and his had lately been
so eager to be rid of them. They are sore afraid when
they see his host behind them, and turn upon Moses
and reproach him for having led them out of their bon
dage. “ Were there no graves in Egypt, say they,that
thou hast taken us away to die in the Wilderness?
Better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in
the Wilderness.”
But Moses encourages the faint-hearted crew ?
He bids them not to fear ; for Jehovah shall fight
for them. He has but to lift up his rod and stretch
out his hand towards the neighbouring sea to have
its waters divide and part asunder, so that the people
shall go through on dry ground. “ And I will harden
the hearts of the Egyptians,” the narrative proceeds,
Jehovah himself being now brought in as speaker,
“ and they shall follow after; and I will get me
honour upon Pharaoh and his host and his chariots
and his horsemen; and the Egyptians shall know
that I am the Lord.”
The pillar of cloud which had hitherto headed the
column of fugitives is made to interpose between
them and their pursuers at this point ?
It moves most accommodatingly from the front to
the rear, coming between the camp of the Israelites
and that of the Egyptians, and as there was now an
opportunity for another miracle, or violation of a
physical law, we are told that, “ Whilst it was a
cloud of light to the fugitives, it was a cloud of dark
ness to the pursuers, so that the one came not near
the other all night.”
And Moses— ?
�Exodus: The Flight from Egypt.
177
Stretches out his hand over the sea, and it is driven
back by a strong east wind which blew all night, so
that the children of Israel advanced on dry land,
“ the waters being as a wall unto them on their right
hand and on their left.”
A wind of the sort, however, would not have piled
the waters of the Red Sea to the right and left,
but have swept them clean away ?
It would had it blown hard enough; so that the
writer had better have left all to the magic rod, and
not had recourse to any natural agency that would
have failed of the effect described.
The Egyptians pursue ?
As arranged by the narrator—“ Even all Pharaoh’s
horses, his chariots, and his horsemen into the midst
of the sea.”
Jehovah now interferes actively ?
“ Looking out through the pillar of cloud and fire
in the morning watch, he troubles their host; and
takes off their chariot wheels, so that they drave
heavily ! ” And now had the moment for the dis
comfiture and destruction of the enemy arrived:
“ Stretch out thine hand over the sea,” says the re
vengeful man speaking in the name of his God, “ that
the waters may come again upon the Egyptians 1 ”
“ And the sea,” it is said, “ returned in his strength
and covered the chariots and the horsemen and all
the host of Pharaoh: there remained not one of
them.”
The great work of immediate deliverance and de
struction thus accomplished— ?
Moses and the children of Israel sing a grand song
of triumph to Jehovah; and Miriam the Prophetess,
the sister of Aaron, and all the women, with tim
brels in their hands and with dances, answer them in
chorus : “ Sing ye to the Lord, for he hath triumphed
gloriously; the horse and his rider hath he thrown
into the sea.”
�178
The Pentateuch.
Though we miss any word of thanksgiving for
their deliverance by the Israelites in this song of
triumph, we meet with phrases that point conclu
sively to the late period of its composition ; for we
discover that the people have been already “ guided
in the strength of the Lord to his holy habitation; ”
the meaning of which is that they are dwelling in
the city of Jerusalem conquered by King David from
the Jebusites, and having the Temple on Mount
Moriah built by King Solomon as the habitation of
their God. And we see farther that the peoples
of Palestine, the Dukes of Edom, the mighty princes
of Moab, and the natives of Canaan, have all already
had cause “ for trembling and amazement,” according
to the words of the poem.
What in brief may be said of the account we have
of the Exodus from Egypt ?
That the story in so far as the accessories are
concerned—the serpent charming, the river turned
into blood, the frogs, the gnats or lice, the flies and
the locusts—must be the work of a writer who had
some acquaintance with Egypt and its natural his
tory : the river in the beginning of the inundation
coming down of a red colour; frogs abounding in a
land so thoroughly irrigated as Egypt; gnats and
flies swarming at particular seasons of the year, and
locusts invading occasionally and devouring all before
them. The thunder and lightning and hail, though
not impossible, must still have been extremely rare
in Egypt. The receding of the Red Sea from its
northern shores, moreover, by the action of the tides,
was known to the writer. At complete ebb the sea
became fordable (or was so before the cutting of
the Great Canal) for a short time, twice in the
twenty-four hours, at the new and full of the moon.
The writer used facts in the natural history of Egypt
in his narrative ; but possessed of a love of the mar
vellous and a fine spirit of exaggeration, he has turned
�Exodus : The Flight from Egypt.
179
the natural into the supernatural, and, it may be, the
actual into the impossible, for the purpose of display
ing the power of his God Jehovah, not only over the
Gods of the Egyptians, but over the domain of the
true God—the world and the laws that inhere in it,
and all to favour the escape of a party of thankless
slaves from their fetters !
Is it either reasonable or reverent to think of God
“ getting him honour” by the destruction of the
beings who can only have come into existence through
conformity with his natural laws ?
It is both against reason and reverential feeling to
entertain such thoughts of God.
Or to hold that the men were inspired by God who
formed such ideas of his nature and attributes, as the
words they presume to ascribe to him, and the acts
they make him do, proclaim them to have enter
tained ?
It is not merely unreasonable, but verily impious to
believe that they were.
Or that they could have been inspired by the holy
spirit of truth associate with knowledge, who make
God say at one time that he brought the Israelites
out of Egypt with a high hand, and at another, that
they were driven out of the land after having been
ordered by their Deity to rob the natives of their
jewels of silver and jewels of gold and fine raiment ?
Inspiration from God can only be fitly spoken of
as coming through the mind of man, and in harmony
with the right and the reasonable in his nature,
never with the irrational in thought and the repre
hensible in deed.
Or that between the dusk and the dawn, a popula
tion approaching three millions in number, with
flocks and herds innumerable, could have crossed an
arm of the sea, were it but a mile in breadth, laid dry
by the receding tide for half-an-hour or less ?
The thing is physically, andso absolutely, impossible.
�180
The Pentateuch.
Pharaoh and his host effectually disposed of, the
Israelites we must presume will now proceed on their
way towards the land reported as flowing with milk
and honey ?
Most singular to say, however, they do not; thev
even turn clean away from it, advance along the
eastern shore of the Red Sea towards the southern
extremity of the Sinaitic peninsula and come, it is
said, into the wilderness of Shur.
Where is Shur ?
Not where the Israelites could have been at this
time, if it was on the way to Shur that Hagar was
found by the Angel of Jehovah when she had been so
ruthlessly driven from his tent by Abraham, then
encamped in the land of Canaan. The desert of
Shur is on the east side of the Dead Sea towards its
northern extremity.
The first stage of the fugitive Israelites after
leaving Rameses is farther said to have been Succoth.
Succoth, we should consequently conclude, must be
within an easy march of Rameses ?
Yet the only Succoth of which we read elsewhere
in the Old Testament is the one to which Jacob came
on his way from Mahanaim after his interview
with his brother Esau, Lord of Seir, in Moab, some
hundreds of miles away from Rameses in Egypt and
the Red Sea. It is, therefore, impossible that the
children of Israel could have reached the Succoth and
Shur mentioned in the histories of Abraham and
Jacob; and as neither desert nor camping place is
known on the borders of Egypt by these names, the
only conclusion possible is, that the redactor of the
part of the Pentateuch which now engages us must
have had two documents before him, severally de
tailing incidents pertaining to different periods in the
earlier nomadic wanderings of the Hebrews in search
of better feeding grounds or more settled homes.
The confusion in the account of the Exodus as we
�Exodus: The Flight from Egypt.
181
have it, and the impossibility of following the Israel
ites in their course by the names of the stations or
camping places given, has even led to the suggestion
that the Misr, translated Egypt, from which they are
described as having escaped was not the Misr of the
Nile, but an outlying district of Phoenicia called
Goshen (see Josh, x., 41 and xi., 16), in which they
had been slaves ; and farther, that the sea they are
said to have crossed dry-shod was not the Red Sea at
all, but an inland lake characterised in the original as
the reedy, rushy, or sedgy sea (Schilf Meere, De Wette),
a title totally inapplicable to the briny Arabian Gulf
on whose shores reed or rush never grew.
*
The Israelites, however, in the account we possess,
have made great speed in reaching the east coast of
the Red Sea after quitting Rameses in Egypt ?
They seem to have spent but a few days—three
days ?—if we may judge by the narrative, in getting
thus far.
What is the distance from Rameses to Suez on the
western head of the Red Sea ?
About thirty-five English miles.
How long would it take a column of men, women,
and children, approaching three millions in number,
burthened with all their belongings in the shape of
furniture, baggage, tents for shelter, &c. &c., to say
nothing of sick and infirm, hampered besides by
numerous flocks and herds, to march in the most
perfect order—impossibility under the circumstances
indicated—from the borders of Egypt to the coast of
the Red-Sea?
A satisfactory answer will be found in the Bishop
of Natal s exhaustive work, ‘ The Pentateuch and
Book of Joshua.’ Very many days, at all events—■
if not even weeks, or, by possibility, months!
* Vide ‘ Badenhausen, Die Bibel wider die Glaube.’ 8vo.
Hamb., 1865. Also ‘ Goethe : Zum West-Ostlichen Divan •
Israel in der Wiiste,’ Bd. vi., S. 158 Stuttg. and Tubing, 1828 ’
�182
The Pentateuch.
Yet the Exodus is said to have been effected in the
course of a single night ?
Between midnight and the next morning, as we
read the account; Etham, on the coast of the Red
Sea, being reached by the following day at farthest;
how much longer it was before Pi-hahiroth, between
Migdol and the sea, was attained we do not learn.
Surely this was impossible ?
On natural grounds certainly. But the process of
evacuation is to be seen as it presented itself to, or
rather as it was elicited from, the writer’s imagina
tion—viz., as miraculous ; which, being interpreted,
means against nature, therefore against God, and so
impossible. For, with our faith in the changeless
laws of nature, expressions, as we perforce apprehend
them, of the power and attributes of God, we acknow
ledge no reported interferences with the necessities
they impose as other than fables devised by ignorance
in view of particular ends—the end in the case before
us being to show forth the superiority of the Jewish
God Jehovah over the Gods of Pharaoh and the
Egyptians, and the peculiar favour in which he held
the children of Israel.
What befals the fugitives next ?
They come to Marah, where the water is found so
bitter that it cannot be drunk, and the people murmur
against their leader.
But the bitterness of the water is said to have
been removed or remedied ?
Jehovah is said to have showed Moses a tree,
which, being cast into the water, made it sweet.
Does the knowledge we now possess of the chemical
nature of the salts which cause brackishness in water,
and of the principles which give plants their special
properties, warrant us in believing that any tree
grows, or did ever grow, capable of neutralising or
eliminating the alkaline and earthy chlorides and
sulphates which commonly embitter and make water
undrinkable ?
�Exodus: The Flight from Egypt.
183
It does not. On the contrary it enables us to
speak positively, and to say that no such tree did
ever grow or could ever have grown. Distillation
alone is competent to make bitter or brackish water
sweet and wholesome; and the art of distillation,
though it came from Arabia, could hardly have been
known in the days of Moses and Aaron, or, if it were,
it is not said, at all events, that it was called into
requisition.
The Israelites next reach Elim, where there are
said to be twelve wells, and threescore and ten
palm-trees. Suppose a mixed multitude of nearly
three millions of men, women, and children—to say
nothing of cattle—how many would there be to a
well ?
Two hundred and fifty thousand.
And if thirty of these may be supposed to have
drunk in the course of every hour of the twenty-four,
and each to have had access to the well twice a day,
how long would it be before all could have quenched
their thirst ?
A very long time—the reader who is curious to
know the exact number of hours, days, weeks, months,
and years may amuse himself by making the calcu
lation.
And reasonable men are still asked to give credit
to so impossible a tale as that of the Exodus of the
Israelites from Egypt—that some two and a-half or
three millions of men, women, and children, several
thousands of sick, infirm, parturient, dying, and dead,
besides vast herds of kine, sheep, and goats, left their
homes in a single night and subsisted for forty years
in a desert that does not furnish food for the four
thousand souls with a few camels and goats who now
possess it ?
They are, indeed, and have it propounded to them
as part of a revelation from the God of Reason for
their guidance in learning to know something of him
�184
The Pentateuch.
and the nature of his agency in the world they
inhabit.
Does not the exaggeration in regard to the num
bers of the Israelites who leave Egypt find its
corrective subsequently ?
Elsewhere we learn that the Israelites were not
chosen by Jehovah “ because they were more in
number than any people, for they were the fewest of
all people ” and truly when the history of the tribe
is perused with unbiassed mind, such an indifferent
reason is seen to be as good as, or possibly better
than, any other that could be given for the choice
—all things else considered. The population of
Palestine—Phoenicians, Syrians, Edomites, Moabites,
Israelites, &c., did not at any time of old amount to
the numbers said to have left Egypt under the
leadership of Moses in a single night.
*
The palm-trees need not detain us, for, as the
Exode is said to have taken place in the spring of
the year, their fruit could not have been ripe; and
had it been so, what would the fruit of threescoreand-ten palm-trees have been among three millions
of hungry human beings, the produce of each tree
having to be divided between 42,857 mouths ! Food,
as well as water, failing, and supplies being indis
pensable, how says the record they^were furnished ?
Flesh meat by means of a flight of quails which
* An excellent authority estimates the population of
Palestine never to have exceeded two millions (Movers ‘ Die
Phoenizier,’ B. ii,, S. 303); and the inhabitants of the Sinaitic
Peninsula, in which the children of Israel, approaching three
millions in number, are said to have wandered and found sub
sistence for themselves and flocks for forty years, do not now,
and probably never did, exceed four thousand souls, who are
not even dependent on the produce of the land for their means
of living, but on the wages they earn in forwarding merchan
dise and travellers through the desert they inhabit; food and
necessaries of every kind reaching them from Egypt and
Palestine. See Robinson’s ‘ Travels in Palestine.’
�Exodus: The Eduth.
185
covered the camp, and bread by a fall of manna from
the skies. Of the latter every man was to gather, or to
have gathered for him, an omer by measure. Did he
gather more on any working day, it was found next
day to stink and to have bred worms ; but, that
wonders might not cease, and as it was unlawful in
the writer’s mind to do any work on the Sabbath,
two omers were to be gathered on the preceding
day, and the one reserved was found to keep sweet
and good, as if there had been a preservative or
antiseptic quality in the air of the Sabbath.
There was also an omer ordered to be gathered
and kept for a memorial and a witness to coming
generations of the wonderful way in which the
chosen people had been fed in the Wilderness. This
omer of manna, like that gathered on the eve of the
Sabbath, was also miraculously preserved from stinking and breeding worms, and is ordered to be laid
up first before Jehovah—the Lord (xvi., 83), and
then before the Eduth—the Testimony (lb., 34).
What may the object be which is thus designated
indifferently Jehovah and Eduth ?
The Hebrew word Eduth, here met with for the
first time and translated Testimony with us, is com
monly understood to signify the Law or Tables of the
Law. But the Law had not yet been delivered to
Moses; the stones on which it was written were still
in the quarry, and the ark in which it was kept was
in.the tree, so that the word Eduth must mean some
thing other than the Law, though it may have the
sense of Testimony.
The literal meaning of the Hebrew word Eduth
might lead us to the sense in which it is here used ?
The word among other meanings implies brightness,
and as the type of all splendour is the Sun, and the
Sun was the chief God of all the ancient peoples, so
the Eduth has been held by some learned mythologists to signify either an Image of the Sun-God, or
0
�18 6
The Pentateuch.
a Symbol of the Deity in one of his most notable
attributes.
Is there anything in the Hebrew Scriptures that
countenances such an interpretation ?
Hadad, Hadod, or Adod was a Phoenician name for
the Sun-God; and the passage from this to Edud or
Eduth is easy. Jehovah, in the text quoted above,
is spoken of by the name of Eduth, and Eduth is
used as synonymous with Jehovah.
*
Journeying through the Wilderness of Sin there
is no water, and the people chide with Moses for
bringing them out of the land of Egypt to kill them
and their children and their cattle with thirst in the
desert. This gives occasion to another great miracle ?
To the notable one, so much made of by painters
and poets in later times, where Moses strikes the
rock with his wonder-working rod, and water flows
for the people to drink.
What are we to think of this ?
As of the report of a miracle, i.e., a statement im
plying contravention of an eternal and changeless
Law of God.
No more possible therefore than that a touch of the
same rod could have turned the water of the Nile into
blood and the dust of the ground into gnats or lice ?
Certainly not; unless we are prepared to give up
our trust in the changeless nature of God and his
Laws, and to live in a state of chaos in which, as the
poet has it: “ Function is swallowed in surmise and
nothing is but what is not.”
Does not the mention of a Wilderness of Sin and
a Meribah, or bitter well, in connection with the early
tale of the Exodus and the southern extremity of
the Sinaitic peninsula, arouse suspicions of the trust
worthiness of the record ?
* See, farther on, what is said about the contents of the
Sacred Arks or Coffers of the Ancients.
�Exodus: Encounter with Amalek.
187
It certainly does so, coming as we do by and by
upon a Wilderness of Sin and a Meribah on the
borders of Palestine, when the spies are sent out by
Moses to report on the land,—the long-looked for
goal of all the desert toils.
Passing over this difficulty, ascribable to the writer
having different documents before him and drawing
from one or other without critical tact or discrimina
tion, we find that the Israelites as they advance come
in contact with some of the desert-dwelling tribes by
whom they are met and opposed ?
And first by the Amaleks in Rephidim, against
whom Joshua as Captain is ordered out, whilst Moses
with the rod of God in his hand takes his stance on
a hill overlooking the field. “ And it came to pass,”
says the story, “ when Moses held up his hand that
Israel prevailed, and when he let down his hand
Amalek prevailed.”
Observing this, what do Aaron and Hur who have
conveniently accompanied the leader to the hill-top ?
They set him on a stone, and one on either side
stayed up his hands until the discomfiture of Amalek,
which was only completed with the going down of
the sun.
Can we conceive any connection between a rod in
the hand of a man on a hill-top and the success of
one of the parties engaged in a skirmish on the plain
below ?
It is impossible to imagine any: force is force, and
courage is courage, and the greater force and the
greater courage by the law of necessity, which is ever
the law of God, prevail over the less : the Israelites,
braver, more numerous, better armed or better led’
defeated the Amalekites.
What does Moses after the battle ?
He builds an altar and calls it by the name of
Jahveh-Nissi, notin thankfulness for his victory, how
ever, but because “Jehovah hath sworn that'he will
�i88
The Pentateuch.
have war with Amalek from generation to genera
tion.”
Is this, according to our modern notions, a seemly
oath to have been ascribed to God ?
To God, conceived of as the impartial parent of
the universe, and in the light of the ideas of our day,
it certainly is not; though it perfectly accords with
such notions of Deity as might be entertained by a
presumptuous, barbarous, cruel, and ignorant people,
or of a later writer, with a dramatic turn of mind,
throwing himself into the ideas and feelings of his
rude progenitors.
The name which Moses gives his altar has a sin
gular affinity with that of one of the principal Gods
of the ancient world ?
Jahveh-Nissi is not far from Jao-Nissi (Ja or Jao,
being the name of a Phoenician deity), nor this from
Dio-nissi or Dionysos, the God of fertility and increase
of the Greeks and other ancient peoples. The Israelites,
with all their exclusiveness, cannot be supposed to
have remained through the whole of their history
uninfluenced by surrounding nations—Phoenicians,
Egyptians, Assyrians, and Medo-Persians, their pre
decessors in civilisation and so much better policied
and more powerful than themselves.
Moses is now visited by Jethro his father-in-law,
who brings him his wife and children ?
He is ; and in the interlude here introduced we meet
with another of those simply natural and purely
human incidents artistically used which lend so many
parts of the mythical and legendary history of the
Hebrews the charm and imposing aspect of reality.
Jethro or Beuel, the priest of Midian, Moses’ fatherin-law, hearing of all that God had done for Moses
and for Israel his people, takes Zipporah, Moses’ wife,
and her two sons, and with them comes to him in the
Wilderness where he was encamped by Horeb the
Mount of God; and says to him : “I, thy father-in-
�Exodus : Jethro counsels Moses.
189
law Jethro, am come unto thee, and thy wife, and her
two sons with her.” “ And Moses went out to meet
his father-in-law, and did obeisance, and kissed him ;
and they asked each other of their welfare ; and they
came into the tent.”
Jethro tenders his son-in-law some sensible advice ?
“ Now I know,” says he, “ that Jahveh is greater
than all the Gods ; for in the thing wherein they dealt
proudly he was above them.” But Jethro sees that
no single man can do the whole of the work which
Moses has imposed on himself, sitting from morning
Until evening with the people standing about him,
judging between them and making them to know the
statutes of God and his laws. “ This thing,” says he,
*l is too heavy for thee ; thou art not able to perform
it thyself alone. Now hearken to my voice. Be thou
for the people to God-ward, that thou mayest bring
the causes unto God ; but provide out of all the people
able men, such as fear God, men of truth, hating
covetousness, and place such over them, to rule them
and to judge them at all seasons ; and it shall be that
every great matter they shall bring to thee, but every
small matter they shall judge; so shall it be easier for
thyself, and thou shalt be able to endure.”
Moses hearkens to Jethro’s reasonable counsels ?
He does, and in so doing shows us that all is not
effected by immediate divine agency and miraculous
means in this legendary narrative. Jethro’s inter
ference here, however, may fairly be held to be im
pertinent. A God-commissioned man must be pre
sumed competent for every emergency and neither to
need nor to take advice from another. In hearkening
to Jethro Moses descends from his eminence as Envoy
and Agent of his God, and so brings suspicion on all
that is ascribed to him as leader of the children of
Israel. Jethro, a Midianitish priest, has a clearer
vision of human capabilities than Moses himself, the
chosen of Jehovah. But the recommendation of
�190
The Pentateuch.
Jethro is by a modern writer, and is inserted in this
place to countenance a favourite assumption of the
later Jews that their Sanhedrim dates as an Institution
from even so far back as the age of Moses !
Having now—a few weeks we must presume—after
quitting Egypt, come to the desert of Sinai and pitched
before the mountain, God, it is said, calls to Moses
therefrom, bids him remind the people of all that had
already been done for them, and say that if they will
obey the voice of Jehovah and keep his covenant, they
shall be a peculiar treasure to him above all people,
—a kingdom of priests and a holy nation ?
Promises greatly calculated to foster pride and
exclusiveness as regards themselves, contempt, hate,
and uncharitableness as regards other peoples, to give
a colour, moreover, to proceedings for which rapine
and murder are the only appropriate names.
The people on their part declare their readiness to
obey in all things ?
Of course they do; the people are ever as ready to
pledge their word as they are careless to keep it. Not
Moses only but Jahveh-Elohim himself, according to
the record, had at all times a heavy handful in trying
to keep the wayward and stiff-necked people they had
led out of Egypt in something like order, a task,
indeed, in which it may be said that neither God nor
man ever completely succeeded, as we shall find in the
course of our exposition.
A great event is now impending and an imposing
prelude is required ?
What is called the delivery of the Law from Sinai,
preceded by injunctions for the people to sanctify
themselves, to wash their clothes, and be ready
against the third day, when Jehovah will come down
in sight of all the congregation on Mount Sinai.
This great event takes place ?
Wrapt about by a thick cloud, amidst thunder
and lightning and trumpet sounds exceeding loud,
�Exodus; Delivery of the Law.
191
Jehovah comes down, as said, and Mount Sinai is
“ altogether on a smoke, and quakes greatly, because
Jehovah descends in fire.” After the trumpet has
sounded long and waxed ever louder and louder—by
whom it was blown we do not learn—Jehovah speaks
to Moses by a voice, and calls him up to the top of
the Mount. There he is ordered to go down and
charge the people that they break not through and
many of them perish; he and Aaron are alone to
come up; the people and the priests—of whom we
have heard nothing till now—are not even to set foot
on the sacred mountain, “ lest Jehovah break out on
them.”
This is a strange materialistic exhibition and
derogatory statement to be connected with the
supersensuous, ubiquitous power conceived by civi
lised man as Immanent Cause in Nature, and by us
in these parts personified and called God ?
Of whom as one and sole in any sense now under
stood, in spite of all that has been said to the con
trary, the Hebrew people until a very late period in
their history had not a notion. The representation
here is only in harmony with the jealous, irascible,
partial, and ruthless human impersonation of the
greatest among the Gods, their own peculiar God who,
until after the era of the kings and the captivities,
they continued to apprehend under various names at
different times—Chiun, Chamos, El-Schaddai, IsraEl, &c.,. to whom they gave the title of Melek-—King,
turned into Moloch, the God to whom they sacrificed
the first-born of their sons and their cattle, and who
was in truth no other than the Kronos or Saturn of
neighbouring cognate tribes and peoples.
The people and the priests, it is said, are not to set
foot on the mountain lest Jehovah break out on them
and consume them ?
We have as yet had no intimation of the existence
of priests among the Israelites. Aaron is still no
�192
The Pentateuch.
more than the subordinate of Moses, though his
brother, and no priest as the word came afterwards
to be understood. The mention of priests is conse
quently a slip of the pen of the late compiler of this
part of the Pentateuch.
The thundering, smoking, quaking, and trumpet
sounds having ceased, the delivery of the Decalogue
or Ten Commandments follows ?
Prefaced by the important announcement that
“ God spake these words saying : I am Jehovah thy
God, thou shalt have no other Gods before me.”
What is to be understood by the words: “ God
spake ? ”
“ When God is described as speaking to man,”
says a learned and pious divine, “ He does so in the
only way in which He who is a Spirit can speak to
one encompassed with flesh and blood ; not to the
outward organs of sensation, but to the intelligence
that is kindred to himself.”* Not in human
language, consequently, as if God were a man, having
the parts essential to articulate utterance, but by and
through the mind of man, whose activities, aroused
by impressions from without, and as emotions and
thoughts proceeding from within, find expression by
the instrumentality of his vocal organs in words as
various as the races that people the earth.
The Decalogue is generally associated in a more
especial manner with the name of Moses ?
It has long been customary so to connect it.
By the concurring testimony of the scholar and
critic, however, the Decalogue has of late been
recognised as an Eclectic Summary made in times
* Davidson (S.), D.D., ‘Introd, to Old Test.,’ I., 233. See
also our ‘ Dialogue by way of Catechism,’ pt. I., p. 13. It is
strange and unaccountable to us to find Spinoza saying that
he thinks it was by a “ real voice that God revealed to Moses
the Laws he desired should be given to the Jews.” Tract.
Theologico-Politicus, pp. 34 and 38, English Version.
�Exodus: The Decalogue.
193
very much, later than the age of Moses, and only
derived in part from the earlier documents that
■underlie the Pentateuch in its present form. A little
study and reflection indeed suflice to show the
ordinary reader, that the Decalogue in the compact
form in which it meets us in Exodus (xx., 1-17)
must be the work of a' relatively modern hand. Some
of the ordinances here artistically grouped have no
bearing on the concerns of a tribe but just escaped
from slavery and wandering in the Wilderness as
Nomads. Several of them again exist among a great
variety of others that are often not only objectionable,
but indecent, or positively iniquitous in character,
scattered throughout the next two or three chapters
of the Book, which have an unmistakable air of much
higher antiquity than the first seventeen verses of
the twentieth chapter, and give us glimpses of a
state of things among the early Hebrews that is
never suspected when the polished summary pre
sented under the ten heads of the Decalogue is alone
Considered.
The Decalogue being held of such high signi
ficance, everything connected with its delivery, we
are to presume, must be beyond the sphere of question
or of doubt F
Unfortunately this is not the case. The original
delivery of the Ten Commandments is not connected
with any tables of stone on which they are subse
quently said to have been written ; they are delivered
viva voce by Jehovah himself amid thunder and
lightning, and it is not until we come to the twenty
fourth chapter that we meet with a word about
Tables of the Testimony, interpreted as Tables of the
Law, which are ordered to be laid up in the Ark of
th© Covenant. By and by again, when we hear of
two Tables of Testimony having been given to Moses
(xxxi., 18), their contents are not specified; and the
account in the next succeeding chapter (xxxii., 15,16),
�194
The Pentateuch.
where two Tables of Testimony are again spoken of,
leads to the idea that it must have been some more
lengthy document than the Decalogue that was
engraved upon them ; for they are now said to have
been written on both their sides by the finger of
God,—a fact, however, if it could by possibility have
been a fact, of which the writer could by no possi
bility have known anything. It is not in fine until
we come to the thirty-fourth chapter that the
words said to have been in the first Tables are
promised to be rewritten in the second : “ Hew thee
two tables of stone like unto the first, and I will
write upon these tables the words that were in the
first which thou brakedst,” says the writer in the
name of Jehovah.
We have no absolute assurance consequently as to
the contents of these Tables of the Testimony ?
None whatever. For when we look on to the four
teenth and following verses of the thirty-fourth chap
ter, we find several of the Commandments included
among the ten side by side with a number of others,
which are not there to be found. Here the text runs
thus in brief : “ Thou shalt worship no other Gods,
for Jehovah is a jealous God ; thou shalt not make a
covenant with the inhabitants of the land, and go a
whoring after their Gods; thou shalt not take of their
daughters to thy sons ; thou shalt make thee no
molten Gods; the feast of unleavened bread shalt
thou keep ; all that openeth the matrix is mine; six
days shalt thou work, but on the seventh day thou
shalt rest; thou shalt observe the feast of weeks;
thrice in the year shall all your men children appear
before Jehovah Elohim, the Elohim of Israel; thou
shalt not offer the blood of my sacrifice with leaven ;
the first fruits of thy land thou shalt bring into the
house of Jehovah thy God ; thou shalt not seethe a
kid in its mother’s milk.” This enumeration of acts
to be done and left undone concludes with these
�Exodus: The Decalogue.
195
words : “ And Jehovah said unto Moses, write thou
these words, for after the tenor of these words I have
made a covenant with thee and with Israel. And
he, Moses, was with Jehovah forty days and forty
nights; he did neither eat bread nor drink water ; and
he wrote upon the tables the words of the covenant,
the Ten Commandments.” Besides the change in the
Tenor of the words as here delivered, we have, there
fore, Moses as the writer and not Jehovah, in oppo
sition to the statement elsewhere made. The confu
sion that reigns in connection with the delivery of the
Decalogue points not only to a variety of hands en
gaged on the text, but to much uncertainty of the
commandments that were really at different times
comprised in the summary. Each writer doubtless
followed the tradition of his day or of his ken ; and
would have his readers infer, as he himself believed,
that something in the shape of the then accredited
Decalogue was that which was engraved upon the
stone tables.
So much of the thirty-fourth chapter as refers to
the Decalogue has a marked paraphrastic and supple
mentary look about it ?
It certainly has. But it is • not the only chapter
bearing on the Decalogue that meets us in the same
way; for, turning to the nineteenth of Leviticus, we
find a repetition in varied terms of many of the old
ordinances, with sundry additions, some of them, in
all probability, from an ancient document, but others
unmistakably from one of the most modern of all the
editors of the Pentateuch.
The late writer of the Book of Deuteronomy, how
ever, says positively that the tables were inscribed
with the Ten Commandments, and the still more recent
writer of the Books of the Kings (I. Kings, viii,,
7-9) informs us that when the Ark of the Covenant
was “ brought into its place under the wings of the
Cherubim ” within the Temple of Solomon, “ the two
�196
The Pentateuch.
tables of stone which Moses put there at Horeb ”
were still to be seen. As this must have been done,
hard upon five hundred years before the writer’s day
(he having lived some time after the destruction of
Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar), and he shows himself
familiar with the Mosaic Saga, he can only be held
as giving expression to the popular belief; and else
where we learn that when the ark was examined
at a later period it was found empty; the mythical
stone tables writ by the finger of God, had they
ever been there, as well as everything else,—the
Agal/ma tou Theou, fyc., which we believe had been
there, had disappeared.
Looking narrowly into these Ten Commandments,
of which so much is made, we ask first on what
authority they rest ?
On that of the immediate spoken word of God,
says the text. “ Elohim spake these words,” is preface
to the first of the versions we have of them (Ex. xx.) ;
“ These words Jehovah spake,” is the introduction to
the second (Deut. v.). But we have determined the
sense in which these statements can alone be taken:
they are the utterances of men, not the words of God ;
for God never speaks, and never spoke in words to
man.
The two versions, we must presume, will be found
to agree ?
In every essential particular they do, save one : the
reason given for the observance of the seventh day of
the week as a Sabbath or day of rest.
The religious sense, the moral sense, and the reason
of man we may farther presume will be efficiently
met and appealed to in the ordinances of the
Decalogue ?
Inasmuch as with a single exception they are
entirely negative in their character, the important
elements in the nature of man now named may be
said to be left uncared for. The entire domain of
�Exodus : The Decalogue.
197
D#ty, or of acts to be done, is untouched in the
Decalogue, and reason and intelligence are left wholly
out of the question.
The words, “I am Jehovah thy God,” meet us at
the very outset as an announcement that could fitly
have come from the tutelary God of the Jews only ?
And never from the God of humanity at large.
The next clause again, “ Thou shalt have no other
Gods before me,” was assuredly not wanted; for
there are no other Gods, but One God only ; a truth,
however, which the writer could not have known, or
he would have guarded himself from speaking as he
does.
“ Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image
or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above
or in the earth beneath ; thou shalt not bow down to
them nor serve them, fori Jehovah am a jealous God.”
The writer makes God speak in terms of his own
apprehension, little dreaming that the heaven abooe
him now became a heaven below him by and by ! The
injunction here is obviously enough directed against
practices long familiar to the countrymen of the
writer, and still followed in the late times in which he
lived. Through by far the greater part of their his
tory the Hebrews were mere idolaters; they made
images of the sun and moon, and of their own pecu
liar star Baal-Chiun (Saturn) ; they burned incense,
and poured out drink offerings to the Queen of
Heaven (the Moon), as their fathers, their kings,
their chiefs, and they themselves had done in the
cities of Judah and the streets of Jerusalem ; and they
had had plenty to eat, and were well, and saw no
evil so long as they continued to do so. “ But since
we left off to burn incense to the Queen of Heaven,
and to pour out drink-offerings to her, we have
wanted all things, and have been consumed by the
. sword and by famine ; and as to the word that thou
hast spoken to us in the name of Jehovah, we will
�198
The Pentateuch.
not hearken unto thee,” say the people in reply to
Jeremiah’s exhortation to them to forsake the Queen
of Heaven and their other Gods for Jehovah (Comp.
Jerem. xliv., 15-19).
*
The Hebrews undoubtedly
worshipped many Gods, even into late periods of
their history, and under a variety of emblems, from
the unhewn stone block to the sculptured column ;
from figures of the Serpent and the Tree, to those
of the Bull, the Goat, and, we may safely conclude,
the nobler image in human form enthroned between
the Cherubim upon the mercy-seat, and present as
part of the furniture of every house under the title
of Teraphim or Ephod.
Observing such discrepancy between commandment
and practice, it is not easy to conceive the writings
in which the Commandments are set forth as being
in any sense inspired by God, or as dating from any
remote period, such as the age of Moses ?
God trusts his eternal ordinances neither to stone,
to parchment, nor to paper, but implants them in
the nature of things and the mind of man.
We should conclude, then, against the inspiration
of which these disjointed, mythical, legendary, and
contradictory Hebrew records are held up as evi
dence ?
And say that it had no existence out of the imagi
nation of those who proclaim it.
Moses could then have been no God-inspired man?
Had he been so, the writings ascribed to him could
be none of his. Of the life and laws of Moses we
have, in fact, but “ a few scattered and unconnected
* “ Is it not,” says Professor Dozy, “ as if we had here the
Romans speaking in times when the Empire had become the
prey of the Barbarians ? Eor to the neglect of the Old Reli
gion they, too, ascribed all the misfortunes that had come upon
them ; Christianity, in their opinion, being to blame for the
disruption of the State, which the Old Gods had so well and
truly protected.”—Dozy, ‘Die Israel, zu Mekka,’ 162.
�Exodus: The Decalogue.
199
fragments; and even these, for the most part,
obscured and altered by the tamperings of later
times.”* The idolatry that prevailed through the
period of the Judges, and for ages after this, suffices
to prove that the Commandment against making and
worshipping graven images is of relatively modern
date.
Jehovah is made to announce himself as “a jealous
God ”—and we naturally ask of what in heaven or
earth might God, body and soul of the universe in
one, be jealous ?
Of other Gods, doubtless, according to the Jehovistic writer whose work we have before us. Of
them, indeed, might the Jewish Jehovah well be
jealous, for his service was constantly deserted for
theirs,—was never popular, indeed, until more than
one of the few pious and respectable kings ever
boasted by Judah had lived and died, and the
country, at war with itself, was verging to its fall.
“Visiting the iniquities of the fathers on the
third and fourth generation”—proceeds the tale.
But God does not visit the sins of parents upon
children in any sense intended in the text, a truth
which a later writer than the compiler of the Deca
logue, and at variance with him, announced when he
said : “ The fathers shall not be put to death for the
children, neither shall the children be put to death
for the fathers : every man shall be put to death for
his own sin.” (Deut. xxiv., 16.)
“ Showing mercy to thousands of them that love
me and keep my commandments.”
Surely God is merciful to all who study to know
and faithfully obey his laws, written as they are, and
far more at large, in the great open book of Nature
* “Profecto non nisi fragmenta Vitse et Legum Mosis
supersunt pauca, dissipata disjectaque, et hsec ipsa pleraque
•temporum seriorum injuria denuo obscurata et turbata.”—
Ewald, in ‘ Comm. Soc. Gotting,' vol. viii., p. 176.
�200
The Pentateuch.
than in the Hebrew of Exodus or Deuteronomy;
even as they who know them not, or knowing who
neglect them, assuredly bring penalties upon them
selves.
“ Thou shalt not take the name of Jehovah thy
God in vain.”
The name of their God Jehovah was held of such
sanctity by the Jews in later times that they believed
it could not be spoken by man without sin. The
high priest alone was authorised to utter it aloud,
and that once only in the course of the year, on the
great day of atonement. It is to enforce this usage
that we have the story of the man born of an
Israelitish mother by an Egyptian father stoned to
death for having blasphemed the name of Jehovah—
by which we are to understand nothing more than
having dared to take the sacred name into his un
hallowed lips (Levit. xxiv., 10-14). The verses here
are plainly interpolated, and the text of verse sixteen
that follows has been tampered with. In reading
the scriptures aloud the name was at all other times
either slurred so as to be inarticulate, or a title was
substituted for it, Adonai,—Lord, being the one
that first came into use, though this, too, was by and
by esteemed so holy that it must not be pronounced
articulately. Ha Schem—the name—is the word that
is now spoken in the synagogue instead of either
Jahveh or Adonai.
“ Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy (£as
Jehovah thy God hath commanded thee,’ ” adds the
Deuteronomist, referring doubtless to the text of
Exodus) ; “ six days shalt thou labour and do all thy
work, but the seventh day is the Sabbath of Jehovah
thy God, in it thou shalt not do any work, thou,
nor thy son, nor thy daughter,” &c. And here
occurs the important difference between the texts of
Exodus and Deuteronomy:—“ In six days,” says the
former, “ Jehovah made heaven and earth, the sea
�Exodus: The Decalogue.
201
and all that in them is, and rested the seventh day ;
wherefore Jehovah blessed the Sabbath day and
hallowedit.” “ Remember that thou wast a servant
in the land of Egypt, and that Jehovah thy God
brought thee out thence .... therefore Jehovah thy
God commanded thee to keep the Sabbath day,” says
the latter. The reasons given for the observance of the
seventh day as a day of rest are as plainly at variance
with one another as the writers of the several texts
are seen to be at a loss for any reason for the Sabbath
observance that might prove entirely satisfactory. The
late writer of Deuteronomy may have seen the absurdity
of having God, like a man foredone with the labour
of six days, resting on the seventh day; and so
have shifted the ground for its special observance
from God to the Exodus. A priest, he may farther
have seen that men might possibly be better kept to
the religious observances enjoined them, and so made
more submissive, by having these relegated to one
day of the week rather than spread over the seven.
The Semitic races do not appear, like the Aryans, to
have held each day of the week dedicated to a par
ticular divinity—the first to the Sun, Sunday, the
second to the Moon, Monday, &c. But their seventh
day has, nevertheless, the same significance as the
Saturn’s day of the Phcenicians, Greeks, and Romans,
even as their Chiun, El, Bel, Baal, Ja, and Jahveh
have their type in the Kronos-Saturnus so familiar
to us through our classical studies. The planet
Saturn was The Star of the Hebrew people, and to
the God it typified also belonged the seventh day of
the week. The Sabbath, however, may be said to
have lost its religious significance when God was
conceived of as One and Sole, when all days were
declared to be alike in his sight—as most assuredly
they are—and when charity between those who
thought one day holier than another and those who
looked on all days as holy alike came to be enjoined.
p
�202
The Pentateuch.
Is it not likely that neither in the Decalogue of
Exodus nor of Deuteronomy have we the Originals
of the Ten Commandments ?
It is not only likely, but may be said to be certain
that we have not. The Decalogue, as already said,
is an eclectic summary by a late writer of certain
ordinances scattered among many others over the
books of Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers, which he
held of the highest import and significance. The
Commandment concerning the Sabbath, in particular,
is to be met with as often as three times in different
chapters of Exodus, in close proximity with the one
which contains the Decalogue, and in what may be
safely assumed as earlier forms than that in which it
meets us there. “ Six days shalt thou work, but on
the seventh day thou shalt rest,” says the text, that
is probably the earliest of any (Exodus xxxiv., 21).
“ Six days shalt thou do thy work, and on the seventh
day thou shalt rest, that thine ox and thine ass mav
rest, and the son of thy handmaid [concubine] and
the stranger [slave] may be refreshed,” says another
version, somewhat amplified and having a purely
human motive for the observance of the day appended
(Exodus xxii., 12). “ Six days may work be done,
but the seventh is the Sabbath of rest, .... for in
six days Jehovah made heaven and earth, and on the
seventh day he rested and was refreshed,” says the one
that appears to be followed most closely in the Deca
logue (Exodus xxxi., 15-17). Such are the different
forms in which the order, as well as the reason for
observing the seventh day of the week as a day of
rest are delivered, the last quoted being in all likeli
hood from the hand that gave the Commandments
final shape in the Decalogue of Exodus.
Have we any clue to the probable composer of the
Decalogue ?
In him the lynx-eyed criticism of modern times
thinks it sees the writer to whom so much of the
�Exodus: The Decalogue.
203
Pentateuch in its present shape can be fairly ascribed
—“ Ezra the Priest, the Scribe, even a scribe of the
words of the Commandments of Jehovah and of his
statutes to Israel.”*
With the final triumph of Jehovism, the Jewish
scribes could not suffer the seventh day to continue
sacred to Baal-Saturn, the old tutelary God of the
country; neither could they have the Tabernacle and
Ark dedicated to the same Divinity. The day holy to
him and the Tent and Ark in which he dwelt had,
therefore, to be given to the modern God Jehovah.
“ In the veiled sagas of the Pentateuch,” says an able
writer, “ we discover many elements of the idolatrous
worship which prevailed so long among the Israelites.
The mass of the people honoured Saturn as their
national God; they carried about with them in a
Tent his Image in the form of a Bull, as it seems ; to
him they sacrificed the first-born of their sons, and to
his service they devoted the seventh day of the
week.”f Until the time of the exile, says another
accomplished scholar, the Jews were without a pass
able religious motive for the observance of the seventh
day of the week as a Sabbath. It was Ezra who
found for them the one that came finally to be
adopted ; for without misgivings may we assume that
it was he who wrote the Persian story of the Creation
and Paradise as it exists in the beginning of Genesis.
And who, indeed, had such opportunity of learning
something of the Persian sagas as he who lived so
long in exile in the kingdom of Persia, and was
finally sent by its king to Judea “ with the Law of
his God in his hand”—we venture to add; and
with what was not in his hand, in his head. J
The Sabbath, as a day of rest, must have been
much more a matter of necessity in times when all
* Ezra vii. 11 and 14.
f Vatke, ‘Bibl. Thcologie’ I., 201.
I Comp. Dozy, op. eit 34, 35.
�204
The Pentateuch.
below the ruler and the land-owning classes were
slaves, as they appear to have been among the
Israelites, as among the nations of antiquity
generally ?
Then, indeed, was the day of rest a most humane
and beneficent institution. Imposed m religious
grounds, it stood between the arbitrariness that so
commonly comes of wealth and irresponsible power
and the impotency that inheres in dependence. At
the present time, the Sabbath as a religious institu
tion has lost much of its significance : slavery no
longer exists in the civilised world, and, in trading
and manufacturing communities, the labouring classes
give it little heed. They no longer look forward to
one especial day of rest in the week, but make several
Sabbaths in its course ; in many cases they even
dictate the terms on which they will consent to work
at all, and make the accumulated fund of the
capitalist available for profit. Unhappily they do
not commonly use their power aright, turning the
two or three days of the week in which they
do no work into days of idleness and dissipation,
instead of using them for the cultivation of the higher
and nobler elements in their nature. But with our
faith in the possible limitless advance of man in
science and morals, and our belief in the influence of
education freed from the trammels of Churches and
the blight of dogmatic indoctrination, we have no
doubts of the brighter phase of humanity that will in
the course of ages make its appearance.
“Honour thy father and thy mother (‘ as Jehovah
thy God hath commanded thee,’ adds the Deuteronomist, referring again to the version of the
Decalogue he found in Exodus) that thy days may
be long upon the land which Jehovah thy God
giveth thee.”
�
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The Pentateuch in contrast with the science and moral sense of our age. Part II: [Exodus]
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Willis, Robert
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Collation: 138-204 p. ; 18 cm.
Notes: "By a Physician". Author believed to be Robert Willis. From the library of Dr Moncure Conway. Includes bibliographical references.
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Thomas Scott
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1873
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CT124
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Bible
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Bible. O.T. Pentateuch
Conway Tracts
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CT
m
THE PENTATEUCH
IN CONTRAST WITH
THE SCIENCE AND MORAL SENSE
OF OUR AGE.
By
A
PHYSICIAN.
“ Zufallige Geschichtswahrheiten konnen der Beweis von nothwendigen
Vernunftswahrheiten nie werden ”—Contingent historical truths can never be
demonstration of necessary rational truths.—Lessing.
'
PUBLISHED
BY THOMAS
SCOTT,
NO. II THE TERRACE, FARQUHAR ROAD, UPPER NORWOOD,
LONDON, S.E.
1873.
Price Sixpence.
�LONDON!
PRINTED BY C. W. RBYNELL, 16 LITTLE PULTENEY STREET,
HAYMARKET, W.
�Exodus: The Decalogue.
205
“Honour thy father and thy mother”:—a com
mandment natural, beautiful, good and proper in itself
assuredly, but unhappily immediately marred by the
context which adds : “ that thy days may be long in
the land, which the Lord thy God giveth thee;” as if
there were no finer sense of duty or moral obligation in
question, and the merely selfish or animal element in
the nature of man were the only ground of appeal
for its observance ! The commandment, as it stands,
is not unconditional, as it ought to be, but is weighted
with a motive, and so meets us in guise of a compact
or bargain, much of the same kind as that which
Jacob proffers for the acceptance of his God when
he sets up the stone Pillar at Beth-El, and vows
a vow, saying, “ If God will keep me in the way
that I go, and will give me bread to eat, &c., then
shall Jehovah be my God.” (Gen. xxviii. 20, 22).
“ Thou shalt not kill.”
“ Thou shalt not commit adultery.”
“ Thou shalt not steal.”
Respect for life, respect for that which is won by
industry and thrift—property in the proper sense of
the word ; and respect for the sanctity of the hearth
and all that pertains to it,—these the Hebrew writer
sees as the foundations on which human society rests.
Propounded in this place as coming immediately
from God, these laws, comprised as they are in the
primary nature of man, are in complete accordance
with the necessities and contingencies amid which he
lives. More than one of them, indeed, appears to
obtain even among certain of the sociable lower
animals. Unhappily they are not all, and at all
times, so carefully observed among ourselves as they
deserve to be. How little they were regarded
by the early Hebrews, is seen throughout the whole
course of their history,—from the murderous invasion
of Palestine and the rapine that accompanied it; the
treachery of Simeon and Levi when they slew the
Sechemites; the terrible order of Moses to the
Q
�206
The Pentateuch.
Levites to consecrate themselves to Jehovah and
earn a blessing by slaying their sons, their brothers,
and their neighbours ; the wholesale murders perpe
trated by such heroes as Samson, Gideon, Samgar,
and the rest; the individual homicides of Moses and
Phinehas, and Jael and Judith ; the incestuous acts of
Reuben and Amnon; the cruelty, vindictiveness,
unforgiveness, and adultery of David, &c., &c.
“ Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy
neighbour.”
Nothing, undoubtedly, can be imagined more im
moral and reprehensible in itself, or more adverse to
the security of settled life, than false witness-bearing.
Such a commandment, however imperative in a
policied state of society, could obviously have had
little application among nomads in the wilderness.
Its place in the Decalogue consequently gives us
another assurance of the late date at which this
summary was composed and promulgated.
“ Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s house, thou
shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife, nor his man
servant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his ass,
nor anything that is thy neighbour’s.”
The injunction against covetousness in general is a
decided advance, in a moral point of view, on all that
had gone before, and may be said to anticipate the
high tone of feeling presumed possible in humanity
by Jesus of Nazareth when he said that whosoever
lusted unlawfully had already committed the sin in
his heart. But it may not be impertinent to observe
that the commandments against false witness-bearing
and covetousness are not propounded as of universal
application. It is his neighbour alone that the Jew
is to have in respect. It was even held lawful to
spoil the Egyptians; was it not, perchance, lawful
also to swear falsely against them, and to covet their
men- and maid-servants, their asses and their oxen.
The Israelites are repeatedly enjoined to keep these
commandments ?
�Exodus: The Decalogue.
207
Repeatedly, but never on the ground of moral pro
priety or unconditional necessity. It is always in
prospect of some material advantage or return : that
they may have long lives, that they may have a
numerous progeny, that they may be victorious over
their enemies, that they may escape Jehovah’s anger,
and not become victims of pestilence, famine, or the
sword. The Decalogue, however, comprised but a
very small part of the Hebrew legislation. Almost
every particular in the life of the Jewish people, even
to its most private and intimate relationships, is
touched upon and regulated; practices being in
several places denounced that proclaim a state of
morals to have prevailed among the people which
shocks the higher and more delicate feelings happily
current in these our days.
Slavery is one of the subjects particularly referred
to ?
Slavery was an authorised institution among the
Jews, as it continues to be among so many other bar
barous and half-civilised peoples at the present time;
notable, however, in the case of the chosen seed, as
countenanced and regulated by their God. What is
remarkable, too, is this : That Jewish slaves were not
only obtained from abroad, but were purchased from
among themselves. Parents were even authorised to
sell their sons and daughters into slavery. The native
Hebrew slave, however, had privileges of his own,
for when he had served six years he recovered his
freedom. Had he fallen into slavery having neither
wife nor child, he then went out as he had come ; but
had he married and had had sons and daughters born
to him during the term of his servitude, the children
went not with him : they were the master’s property,
and—hard measure—the husband and father only ob
tained permission to remain with his wife and children
by vowing himself to slavery for the rest of his life!
Resolving to share their fate, a particular ceremony
was gone through ?
�20 8
The Pentateuch.
The man being brought before the judge, and, we
may presume, a declaration made and implemented,
his ear was then bored through with an awl against
the door-post, to signify his ascription to the house
for ever, and the ceremony was complete.
The Israelites were in the habit not only of selling
their daughters as slaves, but as concubines ?
“ If a man sell his daughter to be a maid-servant
[concubine, as appears by the context], she shall not
go out as the men-servants [slaves] do,”—to labour
in the fields, doubtless. She is to do the indoor-work
of the house and be her master’s bed-fellow. If she
pleased not her master, however, “who hath betrothed
her to himself,” or if she ceased to find favour in his
eyes, she might be redeemed [euphemism for bought]
by another ; or she might be handed over to the
owner’s son; but she was not to be sold to one of a
strange nation. Did her owner, notwithstanding his
disgust, continue to keep her, having taken to himself another wife, he was to provide her with food
and raiment, and still to comport himself towards her
in all things else as a husband. .Failing in any of
these particulars, the woman was free to go ; but it
was to be “ without money,” i.e., without a provision
from the man to whom she had been as a wife. An
easy way, therefore, lay open to the peculiar people of
ridding themselves of disagreeable wives or concu
bines : they had but to neglect to be quit of them.
Did a man smite another so that he died, the
offender was to be put to death ?
So it is said, but with important reservations; for
if the smiter had not lain in wait for his enemy, but
“ God had delivered him into his hands,” that is, had
he come upon him unawares and slain him, then was
he to have a place of refuge to flee to, Jehovah himself
being held in this case to have thrown the obnoxious
party in the slayer’s way, and given him the required
opportunity to wreak his vengeance on his enemy.
�Exodus: Domestic Legislation.
209
“ If, in striving together, one man smite another
with a stone or his fist, and he die not, but keep his
bed, if he rise again and walk abroad upon his staff,
then he that smote him shall be quit; only he shall
pay him for loss of time and his healing ”—surely an
equitable law, though something more might possibly
in many cases have been required.
Did a man smite his servant or his maid (his male
or female slave) with a rod, and he or she died
under his hand, then was the smiter to be surely
punished ; but, did the servant or the maid “ continue
fora day or two,” he was not to be punished, for the
servant or maid “ is his money.”
A notable distinction this between a cause im
mediate and a cause a little more remote, and made
on grounds that excite our wonder in the present day
when met with in a book still believed by so many to
be the word of God to man ; to have been composed
under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, whatever
meaning is attached to the phrase, and to be used as
among the prime and indispensable instruments in
the education of the young.
The slave, however, was not even thus indifferently
protected, save when his life was endangered ?
Did a man smite the eye of his servant, or the eye
of his maid, says the inspired text, so that it perish,
he shall let him go free for his eye’s sake ! Worse we
are to understand might have befallen the unhappy
slave, and he was, therefore, to be well content that
he had only lost an eye.
The same pleasant award is made in case the loss
were the minor one of a tooth ?
Did the owner smite out his man-servant’s tooth,
or his maid-servant’s tooth, he shall let him go free
for his tooth’s sake I
Did a man strive with and hurt a woman with
child, so that her fruit departed from her, and no far
ther mischief followed, he was to be surely punished
�210
'The Pentateuch.
as the woman’s husband should lay upon him, or, “ he
shall pay as the judge determines,” but if other mis
chief followed—if the woman died, then should life
be given for life.
This paying of like with like was a general prin
ciple in the ancient Israelitish legislation ?
Not carried out to the letter in every case, however,
as we have seen above, still it is said : Eye for eye,
tooth for tooth, burning for burning, wound for
wound, stripe for stripe,—the Zea? tdlionis, in a. word,
was the rule. But the savage nature of the precept,
though delivered as from God, and the evils to which
it necessarily led, were seen through by more than
one of the later Prophets, and the moral teacher of
Nazareth expunged it from the code of humanity for
ever when he said : “It was said of old, an eye for
an eye, a tooth for a tooth ; but I say unto you, do
good to them that hate you,” &c. (Matt, v.) If we
perchance see that this is carrying matters somewhat
far, we are still within the pale of our proper humanity
when we abstain from returning evil with the like.
Among these ancient ordinances or laws ascribed
to Moses, though a few of them only can be presumed
to date from of old, there is one that is completely
in harmony with what seems natural right, though
entirely ignored by modern legislation ?
That which says in these terms : “ If a man entice
a maid that is not betrothed and lie with her, he
shall surely endow her to be his wife” (Exod. xxii.
16.) Were such a law now on the statute book there
would certainly be less seduction practised, and fewer
bastard children brought into the world. If union of
bodies be the sole bond of marriage, as it is acknow
ledged to be by our laws—ceremonies and parchments
going for nothing, but being mere shams or makebelieves, would it not be logical were the fact of such
union having taken place to be constituted legal
marriage in every instance ?
�Exodus : General Legislation.
211
Such being God’s or Nature’s law, there can be but
one consistent answer to the question.
An ordinance follows those we have on matters
connubial which had long a most disastrous influence
on human society ?
That which says: “ Thou shalt not suffer a witch
to live.”
A witch ! what is a witch ?
An old woman presumed to be possessed of super
natural power of a wicked or maleficent kind.
We have no such personage among us now ?
The kind became extinct when physical science was
born. The last reputed English witch was judicially
murdered by a learned but credulous judge about
two centuries ago—'Warning for all time that pre
scriptive learning and legal eminence are no
safeguards against superstition and its offspring
inhumanity.
The learned judge in the instance referred to, as in
others—and they are legion—that had gone before,
only followed in all simplicity and blind sincerity the
injunction he found in his Bible, and administered
the law of the land, based, like his belief, on its text ?
No question of this. But the bad law has been
abrogated, and the judge is now pitied for his cre
dulity ; the belief in witches and witchcraft having
died out from among the cultivated, though it still
lingers among the imperfectly educated and the
vulgar, kept alive as it is by the authority of the book
which the clergy and ignorant laity alike continue to
force on the world as inspired by God, and as the
absolute guide in morals and religion, which the
open-eyed see that it most assuredly is not.
There is another ordinance among these reliques of
old and barbarous times that must have wrung the
hearts of parents, and brought mourning into the
homes of men through countless ages of the ancient
world ?
�212
The Pentateuch.
The one we have seen attempted to be particularly
connected with the escape from Egypt and the insti
tution of the Passover, which says : “ The first-born
of thy sons shalt thou give unto me, likewise of thine
oxen and thy sheep; seven days it shall be with his
dam, on the eighth thou shatt give it unto me.” Of
the terrible meaning hidden in these words we have
already had occasion to speak, and found it not
doubtful that “ giving to the God ” in ancient times
meant sacrifice upon his altar. And it is to be noted
that the ordinance as it stands in this—one of the
least manipulated parts of the Hebrew Scriptures,—
makes no provision for redemption by substitution or
by money : the first-born of man and beast, by the
oldest Hebrew statute we possess, was Glierem to
the God ; and that which was cherem could not be
redeemed, but must surely be put to death. The
word in the original which is softened down in the
English version into “ set apart,” means burned :—
the blood as the life was poured out about the altar,
and the body burned upon its fire as an offering of
a sweet savour to the El God,—Baal (Saturn), or
Molech. So late as the days of the prophet Ezekiel,
the redemption clause made no part of the text; it
was interpolated after his day.
*
Sacrifice we know, by the universal practice of
ancient peoples, to have been among the oldest, as it
was also believed to be the most potent of all the
means possessed by man of propitiating the God he
feared as having power to do him good or ill ?
It was so unquestionably, especially among the
Semitic tribes that peopled Western Asia, and the
more precious the offering, whether in itself or to
the giver, the higher rose the claim upon the God for
favour through its means. But the life of a human
being was obviously of far more’ worth than that of a
�Exodus: Human Sacrifices.
213
beast, and the life of a man’s own child priceless to
him in comparison with any other human life.
Hence the value attached to human sacrifice in
general, but, above and beyond all other, to the
sacrifice of a son by his father.
Ideas of the same nature appear to have continued
to influence men’s minds and their acts up to
relatively recent epochs in religious history ?
That they have done so is as unquestionable as that
they continue to do so at the present hour. Ecclesi
astical Christianity has no other foundation. The
“ crowning sacrifice,” as the death of their Christ is
characterised by the churches, has been well said by
an able and learned writer to perpetuate an ancient
rite in its most appalling form, making of a merciful
God a ruthless demon, and giving to the purely moral
doctrine of Jesus of Nazareth the character of a
religion of Molech.
*
In the later periods of the Jewish History, however,
as we have it, the first-born of men were ordered to
be redeemed ?
They were so, and Jehovah is even made by one of the
later prophets to repudiate the claim to all that opened
the matrix which is put into his mouth by the earlier
writer: “ They caused their sons and daughters to
pass through the fire to Molech, which I commanded
them not.” (Jerem. xxxii. 35). Such a rite as the
ever-recurring sacrifice of a new-born babe, the first
of its parents, wore too terrible an aspect to continue
as an institution after some little progress had been
made from utterly barbarous to more civilised life.
Substitution was, doubtless, the first step taken in
favour of the human victim, and among the Hebrews
may even be supposed to have preceded the circum
cision, or partial sacrifice, and the money price that
were finally paid to the priest in its stead. But it
Mackay, 1 Progress of the Intellect,’ ii., 460.
�214
The Pentateuch.
was not among the Israelites alone that redemption
of the human subject from immolation to the God by
means of a substitute or a payment in money came
at length to be effected. We have evidence of a like
advance in ideas leading to like results in practice
among other ancient peoples. If in the Hebrew
legends we have the ram caught in the thicket as a
substitute for Isaac on the point of being sacrificed
by his father Abraham—a tale of very modern inven
tion, as has been hinted, the name of Abraham not
*
having been known to the Jews before the days of
David—in those of Greece we find Athamas spared
the trial of sacrificing his son Phrixos, the divinity
in his now more placable aspect consenting, like
Jehovah, to receive a ram instead of the youth.
Iphigenia, too, in some of the myths, escapes her
impending doom by the goddess at whose shrine she
was to have bled, accepting a hind in her place.
Belonging to still earlier periods, perhaps, there is,
further, the myth of Jupiter Laphisteus, to whom
Rhea presents a stone in swaddling bands instead of
the customary new-born child,—Jupiter Laphisteus, in
whom we not only recognise the Chronos and Saturnus of the Aryan race, but the El-Elijon, the Chijun,
Chamos, Baal, and Molech of the Semites under
another name. In the Egyptian records, still farther,
we have the story of the Three Candles burnt to the
Sun God in his temple at On, in lieu of the Three
Men who, from immemorial times, had been the daily
sacrifice at his shrine.
These legendary and mythical tales all proclaim
the advance that may have been made somewhat
simultaneously among the better policied and more
civilised peoples of the ancient world in their ideas of
what might be truly acceptable to their gods ?
Very possibly : Substitution—an animal for a human
* Vide Our Genesis, page 70-71.
�Exodus : Human Sacrifices.
215
being; Circumcision—Sacrifice of a small but signifi
cant part for the whole ; Presentation at the shrine
with an Initiatory rite of no more moment than the
sprinkling with a little water—still practised in these
days, and a Money payment to the priest—still also
part of the ceremony.—Such, in all likelihood, were
successive steps, proclaiming advances in the Religious
Idea, due, undoubtedly, to progress in the knowledge
of Nature, as well as in civilisation and general refine
ment among mankind.
Human victims, however, long continued in ancient
times to be offered to the Gods on extraordinary
occasions ?
No longer presented as the rule, they nevertheless
continued to be offered occasionally and exceptionally.
In entering on their wars, some of the ancient peoples
seem to have thought that an oblation of the kind to
the God of Slaughter was a due and necessary pre
liminary. Achilles, as we read in the Iliad, offered
up a number of his Trojan captives to Ares ; and
Themistocles, in less mythical times, sacrificed three
distinguished Persian prisoners to Dionysus on the
eve of the battle of Salamis. After his victory over
Antony, Augustus, to propitiate the manes of the
deified Caesar, sacrificed three hundred victims of
senatorial and equestrian rank upon his altar. Commodus offered up a human victim with his own hand
in the Mithriac mysteries to which he was attached ;
and Heliogabalus, two centuries after the Christian
era, had the sons of some of the most distinguished
families of Italy brought to Rome and sacrificed in
the Syriac mysteries which supplied the fashion of his
religious clothing. In the Hebrew history we have
the story of Mesha, King of Moab, besieged in his
capital and sorely pressed by the Israelites, sacrificing
his son and heir, dressed in the royal robes, upon the
wall in sight of the besiegers, and with such effect
that they, indignant, alarmed, and satisfied that no
�2l6
The Pentateuch.
further effort on their part would now avail them—
the God being necessarily propitiated by so distin
guished a victim—raised the siege and departed
home. Is it needful, in fine, to allude to the great
sacrifice which the successors of the Jewish sect
having Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph, for
their teacher, believe to have been offered to Jehovah
as a propitiation for the sins of mankind; or to
speak of the fiery deaths of heretics and so-called
blasphemers in modern times, as other than offerings
to appease the offended majesty of God ?—Ordinary
criminals were beheaded or hanged; they to whom
heresy or blasphemy was imputed were done to death
by fire.
What may be said to be the general character of
the many commandments or ordinances that now
follow in the book of Exodus ?
That many of them are good and humane, some of
them childish, and a few positively wicked. But all
obviously are not by the same hand ; numerous inter
polations in favour of the Levitical caste and the
priesthood being especially conspicuous. There is
further such incongruity between so many of the
commandments and the circumstances of the times
in which they are generally presumed to have been
promulgated, that it is easy to see they cannot all
date from the days of Moses. They are, indeed,
mostly and very distinctly adapted to a people
policied in a certain sense, settled in fixed homes,
and having the culture of the soil for their principal
occupation, not to a multitude wandering in the
wilderness, destitute of everything, and only kept
from perishing of hunger and thirst by reiterated
miraculous interpositions—a multitude who could not
possibly have brought ripe fruits and fermented
liquors, the produce of carefully tended vineyards
and fields, nor consumed in smoke upon the altars of
their God holocausts of the bullocks, sheep, and
�Exodus : Sources of the Legislation. 217
goats which, had they had them, were so much
wanted for their own subsistence. What lands,
among other items spoken of in the legislation, could
they have had at this time either to till or to leave
untilled ; with what were they to hold high festival
three times in the year, when they had neither
leavened nor unleavened bread to eat; what could
they have sown, what reaped in the waterless wilder
ness ; and how could they have appeared otherwise
than empty-handed at all times before Jehovah ? Let
us cease to think of these ancient writings as con
temporaneous with the still more ancient times and
circumstances they pretend to portray !
All, indeed, seems plainly enough to imply that the
legislation ascribed to Moses or referred to his age
must have been the product of much more modern
times ?
Such a cenclusion is inevitable. There is, never
theless, so much that is old in the 21st, 22nd, and
23rd Chapters of the Book of Exodus that they have
together been referred in the main to ancient docu
ments, believed to have been extant in the time of
the authors of the text in its present form.
*
Moses is now called up into the mountain along
with Aaron, Nadab, and Abihu, and seventy of the
Elders of Israel; but Moses alone is admitted to the
presence of Jehovah, the rest being ordered to worshp
afar off. In spite of this, however, and very incon
sistently as it seems, we are by and by informed that
the Elders of Israel saw God and he laid not his
* Compare particularly Dr Davidson’s Introduction to the
Old Testament: ‘Authorship and Composition of the Penta
teuch,’ Vol. I., p. 1—134; Knobel’s ‘ Kurzgefasstes Exegetisches Handbuch zum alten Testament—Die Bucher Exodus
and Leviticus,’ 8vo, Leipz. 1857; Kuehnen, ‘Hist, critique
des Livres de l’Ancien Testament,’ Trad, de l’Hollandais par
M. A. Pierson, .Torn. I.; the Bishop of Natal’s exhaustive
work, ‘The Pentateuch and Book of Joshua,’ and the learned
Dr Kalisch’s ‘ Commentaries on Exodus and Leviticus.’
�218
The Pentateuch.
hand on them; they saw God and yet did eat and
drink!
Saw God ! What man has ever seen God, save in
the manifestations made of his Being and Agency in
the things of heaven and earth, and in their various
properties or aptitudes ? If we are not informed in
so many words that it was an Image of their God
that was seen by the Elders, the context seems to
show that it could have been nothing else; for,
under his feet, it is said, “they saw as it were a
paved work of sapphire stone, and as it were the
body of heaven in his clearness ”—the similitude of
the God, in a word, relieved by the clear blue sky.
Or, did the Elders of Israel perchance see more of
the Infinite body of God than appears in the expanse
of heaven—called Dyaus by our far off Aryan
Ancestors, Zeus and Deus by their descendants, the
Greeks and Romans ? If it was not an Image on
which they looked they certainly saw no more of God
—the Infinite, the Eternal—than meets man’s eye
when he gazes on the depths of endless space. But
this is not what is meant in the text. The ancient
Hebrews, like modern Christians, thought of God as
a Person, and so, perforce, possessed of parts and
proportions, as well as of the intellectual and moral
endowments they owned themselves.
The Elders see Jehovah, however, as said, and sur
vive the sight; but Moses alone is allowed to come
into his immediate presence. And there upon the
mountain, shrouded by a cloud, he remains according
to the record for forty days and forty nights, without
meat or drink—a long time if we measure it by what
we knpw of aught that passed between his God and
him.
Jehovah, it is said, bids Moses speak to the chil
dren of Israel and order them to bring offerings of
gold, silver and brass, of blue, purple and scarlet fine
linen, of goats’ hair, rams’ skins dyed red and badgers’
�Exodus : The Ark of the Testimony. 219
skins, of shittim wood, oil for the lights, spices for
the anointing oil, ingredients for sweet incense, onyx
stones for the Ephod, and precious stones for the
breastplate of the priest. “ And that I may dwell
among ye,” proceeds the narrative, making Jehovah
the speaker, “ let them make me a Sanctuary after
the pattern of the Tabernacle, two cubits and a half
long, a cubit and a half broad, and a cubit and a half
high, to be overlaid with gold within and without;
and a Mercy Seat of pure gold two cubits and a half
high, a cubit and a half broad; and two Cherubims
of beaten gold, one at either end with wings covering
the Mercy Seat, their faces looking towards one
another,” &c.
This Ark or Sanctuary was a highly-important
piece of furniture with the ancient Hebrews ?
As with several others among the peoples of the
old world—Egyptians, Phoenicians, Assyrians, &c.
Upon the proper ark or coffer, the seat or throne, de
signated Mercy Seat in the Old Testament, is ordered
to be placed, where the God was to be found for con
sultation by the priest; and within it the object
entitled Eduth was commanded to be kept. The ark
itself, in some sort the symbol as containing the
symbols of Deity, was believed to be possessed of
supernatural powers ; for it was death to touch or
attempt to look into it, and the power and counte
nance of the tutelary God was supposed to accompany
it wherever it went.
We have already had the Eduth mentioned inci
dentally in connection with the miraculous manna of
the wilderness, when we found the word translated
Testimony, and used now as if it were Jehovah that
was meant, and again, as if the Law or Tables of the
Law were the thing signified; the word Eduth, in
deed, is always translated Testimony in this sense in
the English version of the Bible. But when the con
text is taken into account, it seems as if it cannot
�210
The Pentateuch.
always have such a meaning. It constantly meets us
as if it could only apply to an image or symbolical
figure of some sort.
The Israelites, however, were emphatically for
bidden to make molten or graven images, or the like
ness of anything in heaven or earth ?
At an advanced period of their history as a people;
certainly not before the age of Solomon. But neither
in the days of this Sybarite king, nor even in much
later times, do the Jews appear to have known, or, if
they knew, to have given any heed to the prohibition.
We have but just seen figures of Cherubim ordered
by Jehovah himself for the covering of the Ark; and
an empty seat would have been an indifferent object
for consultation by the priest when he entered the
holy of holies to ask advice. The seat must have been
occupied, therefore, and doubtless by the Image or
Symbol of the God. If neighbouring tribes and
peoples had images and emblems of their Gods, we
may be very certain that the early Hebrews also had
theirs :—They had borne for forty years in the wilder
ness the “ Tabernacle of their Chiun, their idol, the
Star of their God which they had made,” says one
of the earlier prophets whose writings have escaped
mutilation by modern editors (Amos v. 26). The
golden calf set up by Aaron in the Wilderness and the
golden calves erected by Jeroboam at a subsequent
period, as the God and the Gods who had brought
them out of Egypt, could have been no novelties to
the Israelites. On the contrary, they were the old
familiar forms under which Deity was conceived and
approached with offerings by their fathers as by them
selves. The interdict against molten and graven
images came from the advanced Jehovistic party of
the kingdom of Judah, about the time of Hezekiah
probably, if it were not even so late as that of Josiah,
when the leading minds among the Jews had attained,
to the conception of the all-pervading, or so-styled,
�Exodus: The Ark of the Testimony. 221
spiritual nature of the Godhead, which as Infinite and
Ubiquitous can be fitly represented by no “similitude.”
The Eduth may, therefore, have been an image,
if not of any such specific Divinity as was conceived of
under the names of El, Eloha, Chiun, Chemosh,
Baal, Melkart, Molech, or Jahveh, yet of the emblem
that was once universally held typical of the repro
ductive power inherent in Nature or the Nature God ?
There are hints in various places of the Hebrew
sacred writings that have escaped the expurgating
hands of their latest editors which necessarily lead to
the conclusion that the seat in the sanctuary was
not unoccupied, but was verily filled by an image of
the God himself, carefully secluded, however, in later
times at least, from the prying eyes of vulgar curiosity.
Aaron, on entering the inner veiled compartment of
the shrine, was to take a censer full of live coals from
the altar of burnt offerings, to sprinkle incense there
on, and “ raise a cloud before Jehovah.” The prophet
Isaiah must have seen something more than an empty
stool when he exclaimed that he was undone, for that
he “ a man of unclean lips had seen the king (Melek,
Molech), the Lord of Hosts (Jahveh-Tzabaoth)
vi. 5. Ezekiel, indeed, does not hesitate to fill the
throne which he saw with the “likeness of the
appearance of a man ” (i. 26), a roundabout way of
saying an image of Jehovah; and then we have
Jehovah’s own orders for the construction of the
sanctuary in which he promises to dwell among his
people. But God the Infinite and Eternal can have
his dwelling-place in no sanctuary made by the hands
of man. It was his similitude, therefore, or his
symbolical representation that was to be seen on the
lid of the Sacred Coffer between the Cherubim ; and,
when not there displayed, that was laid up with other
sacred apparatus in its interior, the coffer being of the
precise dimensions calculated to receive the life-size
seated figure of a man.
R
�222
The Pentateuch.
The ancient Hebrews were not, as already hinted,
the only people who had a sacred ark or coffer, in
which articles held holy, or apparatus employed in
their religious rites were stored ?
By no means. The ark of the ancient Egyptians,
as we see it in their paintings and sculptures, bears
the most exact resemblance to that of the Hebrews as
described in their records. It has the mysterious
figures of the cherubim with wings on its cover, and
between them the Truncated Cone, symbol of the
generative or reproductive principle immanent in
nature. Among the peoples of the ancient world the
Ark or Sacred Coffer appears to have been more
especially connected with the worship of Dionysus—
the Sun, in his character of regenerator. In the one
said to have been found in the citadel of Troy, when
taken by the Greeks, the image or emblem of
Dionysus—AyaXpa Azorovaov (ayaX/za simulacrum,
res auro ornata, an Image, a gilded Something), is
the article that is particularly mentioned as having
been found within it; and from an old writer, Cle
ment of Alexandria, we learn that in the heathen
arks or sacred coffers, generally, the article laid up
was tov Atovovoov Aibotov (atboia pudenda ab aibws').
These references may help us to a conclusion as to
what the Eduth really was which was stowed away in
the Hebrew Ark of the Covenant, and so carefully
concealed from all eyes save those of the priest. Is
not the Greek word AzJws, in fact, the Hebrew word
Eduth ? *
* On the Hebrew Ark of the Testimony see Spencer, De
Legibus Hsebrseor. Ritualibus, Lib. iii. Diss. v. Singularly
enough the word Eduth is not mentioned in that mine of
learning and interesting information, Winer’s Biblisches
Realworterbuch (3tte. Aufl., 2 vols., 8vo, Leipz., 1847). To
suppose that Winer was ignorant of what is said above were
absurd. He knew it all; but the theologian could not face the
conclusion to which the scholar and critic must necessarily
have come. See also Movers, Die Phoenizier i., chaps. 2 and 3.
�Exodus : The Seven-light Candlestick. 223
There are several other articles connected with the
Hebrew ritualistic worship which require more than
a passing notice ?
The Seven-light Candlestick in particular, with its
arms—three on either side, to hold as many lamps ;
its shaft, branches, bowls, knobs, flowers, and even
the accessory tongs and snuff dishes being all alike
ordered to be “ one beaten work of pure gold, after
the pattern that was shown thee in the mount.”
The lavish expenditure of gold and precious stones,
and of such costly stuffs as purple, blue and scarlet
linen, &c., might lead to the conclusion that the
fugitives had spoiled the Egyptians more effectually
than it is easy to imagine them willing to lend. But
the whole tale is a fiction, involving as it does childish
or worse conceptions of the Deity, and containing
injunctions so utterly impossible of execution under
the circumstances, that there needs no more than a
hint to satisfy every reasonable person not blinded by
a foregone conclusion, that it must date from days
when Jerusalem was the capital of the kingdom of
Judah, with the first or even the second Temple
already in existence, and serving as a model from
which the writer drew.
The gold candlestick with its seven lights, so par
ticularly described in the text, must be presumed to
have had a special significance, symbolical or other
wise ?
That it was symbolical, may be safely assumed, of
the Sun, Moon, and five known Planets—Mercury,
Venus, Mars, Jupiter and, high and far removed over
all, Saturn, the peculiar star of the ancient Hebrew
race—the star of their God by whatever name known
to them at different epochs of their history—Chiun,
Chamos, El, Israel, Baal, Molech, or Jahveh.
This costly piece of furniture it has been surmised
Was not for ornament only or even for giving
light ?
�224
The Pentateuch.
Besides its symbolical significance and every-day
uses, it appears to have been in constant requisition,
in conformity with the astrological notions of anti
quity, for purposes of divination, and especially in
casting nativities. The arms of the candlestick being
in sockets and moveable, the lamps they carried,
severally representing a planet, were probably
arranged by the priest in fanciful accordance with
the relative positions in the heavens of the sun, moon,
and wandering stars at the moment of a birth, and
a forecast thus obtained of the fate that was to befal
the future man or woman.
*
Such forecasts or predictions, however, must have
been constantly falsified by events ?
No doubt; but in spite of this the belief in Judicial
Astrology has either had such tenacity of life in itself,
or continues to possess such attractions for the super
stitious and uninformed, that it cannot be said even
now to have wholly died out from among us. Though
no use is ever made, in so far as we know, of the
information obtained, and the end for which it was
once so eagerly sought after is not even surmised, the
precise moment at which every child born among us
comes into the world is still regularly noted by the
gossips who hold high festival in the Lying-in room.
There are other remnants of the old sun, moon,
and star worship, and of the beliefs once universal in
planetary influences that still linger in the world ?
The general and genial merry-making at the winter
solstice—Dies nctlalis Solis, of the ancient world
the brief period of mourning followed, by rejoicings
at the vernal equinox—Easter (A® Orienie Lux)- of
which we have already had occasion to speak ; the
Beal-fires (El, Bel, Baal), still danced about and
leaped through with shouts and exclamations by the
Breton and Irish peasantry at the summer solstice ;
See Landseer, ‘ Sabsean Researches,’ 4to, Lond., 1823.
�Exodus: The Altar; the Priest's Robes. 225
the sacrifice of the goats, one to Jehovah, another to
Asazel, by the Israelites on Soul-Affliction Day, and
the weeping of the women of Northern Palestine for
Tammuz, in the olden time, at the autumnal equinox,
are all alike reminders or relics of the Sun, Moon,
Star, and Time or Season worship that once prevailed
so extensively over the ancient world; a form of
worship, however, implying a considerably advanced
epoch in the history of human society ; for Astrologism proper could have formed no element in the reli
gious system of the primitive races of mankind. Among
these the mere sense of A Something beyond them
selves, accredited with power to do them good or ill,
would seem to have constituted, as it still continues
with the Savage to constitute, the ground and the
substance of all religious belief and observance.
Particular instructions are given for the fashion
and quality of the altar, or altars,—for there were
two, one for burnt offerings, another for incense ?
The sacrificial altar in earlier times was of the
simplest possible construction, consisting of nothing
more than a heap of earth or a circle of twelve unhewn
stones—one for each month of the year—set up on
level ground. At a later period it seems to have con
sisted of a grating of brass, resting at the sides on
supports, and approached by a number of steps.
The Priest’s robes are also objects of most minute
instructions to Moses ?
They are so indeed; he was to speak to such as
were “ wise-hearted and filled by the Lord with the
spirit of wisdom; ” and they, with the directions he
should give them, were to make a robe and broidered
coat, an ephod and girdle, all of gold, and of blue
and purple and scarlet fine twined linen, with cunning
work; a cap or mitre for the head ; two chains of
pure gold of wreathen work for the neck, hung from
two onyx stones on the shoulders, set in gold and
engraven with the names of the twelve tribes of
�226
The Pentateuch.
Israel. Besides which, there was to be a “ Breast
plate of Judgment,”—Choschen,—four-square, with
four rows of precious stones, three in each row,
engraven with the names of the twelve tribes, and
attached to the Ephod by means of gold chains ; and
another article that has been the subject of much
discussion with Bible expositors and commentators,—
the “ Urim and Thummim.”
What was the Urim and the Thummim ?
The text says no more than this :—“ Thou shalt
put in the breast-plate of Judgment the Urim and
the Thummim; and they shall be upon Aaron’s heart
when he goeth in before Jehovah.”
This would make the Urim and Thummim distinct
from the breast-plate of Judgment:—something to
be put into or contained within it ?
It would so according to the rendering of the
original usually followed. But the Hebrew may as
well be translated put upon as put into. The Urim
and Thummim has consequently been thought by
competent critics to be nothing more than the com
plete breast-plate under another name—a conclusion
which has much to recommend it. By one distin
guished scholar and historical writer, however
(Michaelis, Mosaisches Recht), it is believed to have
consisted of two or more precious stones, cut as dice,
which were used in “ asking Jehovah by Lot ”—a
mode of essaying to look into futurity of which we
find such frequent mention in the Hebrew Scriptures,
although the lots or means used are nowhere named.
The learned Spencer (De Legibus Hsebrzeorum
Ritualibus, Lib. iii. Diss, vii.), following the LXX.,
and assuming the words to signify Manifestation and
Truth, after a disquisition extending over one hun
dred and ninety-three quarto pages ! opines that the
Urim and Thummim were Teraphim or sacred
domestic images of the God or Gods! Great
obscurity, therefore, manifestly hangs over the sub-.
�Exodus : The Urim and Thummim. 227
ject of the Urim and Thummim. But when we
think of the many hands through which the Hebrew
Scriptures have passed, the numberless manipulations
they have undergone, and the interest later editors
had in keeping everything like Idolatry and Sabeeism
out of sight, we shall not wonder that so little is left
us by which we may positively know what the Urim
and Thummim signified in itself, or how it was
used for purposes of divination, in which, as its
designation, Breast-plate of Judgment, implies, it
was undoubtedly an important instrument.
The thing called Urim and Thummim is ordered
to be composed of twelve precious stones, which are
said to have been—
A Ruby, a Topaz, a Carbuncle,
an Emerald, a Sapphire, and a Diamond;
a Ligure or Cornelian, an Agate, an Amethyst,
a Beryl, an Onyx, and a Jasper ?
Assuming the stones to be rightly named, the first
series of six is seen to consist of such as are of a
lustrous or brilliant character ; the second series, like
in number, of others that are generally opaque or
lustreless. To the first series it must have been that
the epithet Urim (Ur, Or, Light) was applied ; as to
the lustreless set of six, it was that the title Thummim
was given (Tumas, Sanskrit, Darkness). Ordered to
*
be engraved with the names of the Twelve Tribes of
Israel, the twelve stones upon the High Priest’s Choschen certainly also typified the twelve signs of the
zodiac, which, besides symbolizing the months of the
year, were likewise held to be the houses of the planets
and of several of the more remarkable among the
fixed stars, whose rising and setting marked the
seasons. The brilliant stones were doubtless repre
sentatives of the signs when the sun, in the ascendant
in the northern hemisphere, was pouring light and
* Nork, Biblische Mythologie, i. 175, note.
�228
The Pentateuch.
life upon the world ; the dark or lustreless stones,
again, stood for the inferior signs, when the power of
the sun is in abeyance, and darkness, symbolical of
night and death, dominates the hour.
The composition of the Urim and Thummim seems,
therefore, to proclaim the astrological or divining
nature of the instrument ?
That it was consulted through the priest as an
oracle, and referred to at times in learning the will
of Jehovah, is certain. It is to be presumed that
the aspect of the heavens and the places therein of
the planets and principal fixed stars having been
noted at the time action in any contingency was
proposed to be taken, the Urim and Thummim was
then consulted by the priest in conformity with the
rules of the diviner’s art, and an answer in affirmation
or negation of the purpose in question obtained.
We have instances in the Hebrew Scriptures in
which the Urim and Thummim was used in this
way ?
When Joshua, the son of Nun, was chosen by
Moses as his successor, he was set before Eleazar the
priest, and the congregation of Israel, and the priest
is ordered at all times to “ ask counsel for him after
the judgment of the Urim before Jehovah” (Numb,
xxvii. 21). Saul enquiring of Jehovah on a certain
occasion after he had fallen out of favour with
Samuel the priest, through non-compliance with his
behests, “ received no answer, neither by dreams,
nor by Urim, nor by the prophets,” i.e., the sooth
sayers (1 Sam. xxviii. 6). The Teraphim, or house
hold gods, of which the Ephod was one of the forms
most familiar to the chosen people of Jehovah in
historical times, appears to have been frequently sub
stituted for the Urim and Thummin : “Bring hither
the Ephod,” says King David, the man according to
God’s own heart—by credit and report, to Abiathai’
the priest, upon a certain occasion; and addressing
�Exodus: The E'phod an Idol.
229
the Idol he says : “ 0 Jehovah God, will the men
of Keilah deliver me up into his (Saul’s) hand ? ”
And Jehovah said: “They will deliver thee up”
(1 Sam. xxiii; 9). Another time the same pious and
exemplary monarch—according to the Bible and the
clergy—says : “ Bring me hither the Ephod,” and he
“ enquires of Jehovah, saying, shall I pursue after
this troop P ” and is answered : “pursue” (lb. xxx.
7). The Urim and the Ephod, or Gilded Image of
Jehovah, were therefore used indifferently as means of
ascertaining the will and pleasure of their God by
the Hebrew people.
But the children of Israel are always credited with
having been worshippers of the one only God, and to
have known nothing of idolatry ?
Let the reader conclude for himself on the above
showing what they were in fact, and begin, if by
possibility he may, to read the Bible with his eyes
unsealed and his reason as his guide.
Returning to the prescriptions for the priest’s
robes, a certain part called Ephod, is particularly
described ?
It was to be made in fashion of a habergeon, or
cape, having a hole in the upper part for the head to
pass through. Its hem, however, was elaborately
ornamented with figures of pomegranates of blue, and
purple, and scarlet, having gold bells interposed.
. The pomegranate had a particular symbolical sig
nificance in the religious mysteries of the ancient
world ?
It was a special emblem of fertility, and an element
in the cult of the Reproductive Principle inherent in
Nature, with which, as with Sabmism, the Hebrew
system, when seen with the eyes of the understanding,
is found to assimilate in so many particulars.
The word Ephod has, therefore, two different
meanings in the Hebrew scriptures ?
In one we have seen it applied to the Image of
�230
The Pentateuch.
Jehovah, used by King David as an oracle ; here we
find it applied to a part of the priest’s robes.
The High Priest was further to have his special
title or designation engraved on a plate of gold
fastened to the front of his mitre or cap ?
A title expressed in these solemn and significant
words: Holy to Jehovah (Holiness to the Lord
*
Eng. vers.).
What might this imply ?
More than appears at first sight. The High Priest
—Aaron—was “ to bear the iniquity of the offerings
hallowed by the children of Israel in their giftsi. e.
Aaron, as High Priest and consecrated to Jehovah, in
receiving the offerings of the people at the door of the
Sanctuary was presumed to concentrate on himself
the essence of their expiatory powers, and in virtue
of his office was liable to be called on at any moment
to enact the part of substitute and make atonement
in his individual person for the sins of the people at
large. And we shall find sufficient reason by and by
for concluding that Aaron was actually required, at a
critical moment in the progress of the Israelites to
wards the Promised Land, to make good the terms of
the contract or understanding on which he held his
office.
Aaron’s sons, solemnly consecrated as his assistants
in the priestly office, and so devoted to Jehovah, are
also furnished with clothing according to special
patterns ordered by their God ?
They are to have coats, breeches to cover their
nakedness, caps of a certain fashion, &c.
Can we, living in this 19th century of the Christian
aara, believe that any orders for the clothing of Aaron
and his sons ever came from God ?
The Infinite all-pervading Essence or Spirit con
ceived by us as Cause, and called God, sends man
into the world naked enough, but furnished with the
senses which induce, and the ingenuity which enables
�Exodus : Consecration of Aaron & his Sons. 231
him to clothe himself for decency, for comfort, and
even for what he intends as ornament—whence not
only the loin-band, and the blanket and skewer, but
the embroidered coat, the chignon, and the bustle—
all according to patterns he devises for himself; cer
tainly after none devised for him by God.
The ceremonies by which Aaron and his sons are
consecrated to their office are also matters of particular
instruction to Moses from Jehovah ?
Besides anointing with consecrated oil, a bullock
and two rams are to be sacrificed before the taberna
cle of the congregation. The fat, kidneys, and caul
of the bullock are to be burned on the altar of sacri
fice, but the rest of the carcase is to be consumed with
fire outside the camp. The blood, as Jehovah’s most
peculiar portion, was to be streaked upon the horns
of the altar, and poured out about its base.
And the rams—how were they to be disposed of ?
One of them was to be sacrificed, like the bullock,
but the whole carcase was to be burned upon the altar
as an offering to Jehovah ; the bullock, doubtless, was
seen as too bulky to be conveniently dealt with in
this way. The other ram, having been slaughtered,
its blood was to be put on the tip of the right ear of
Aaron and his sons, on the thumbs of their right
hands and the great toes of their right feet severally,
their robes being at the same time sprinkled with
anointing oil and blood ; and whilst the fat and kid
neys, the rump and right shoulder were burnt on the
altar as Jehovah’s portion, the rest of the carcase was
to be seethed in the holy place, and there eaten by
Aaron and his sons.
This eating of the victims sacrificed in view of the
expiation of sin was held to be an indispensable part
of the religious rite ?
Without it the act of atonement was not believed
to be complete. As the Life had gone to Jehovah in
the blood, and certain parts, sublimated by fire, been
�232
The Pentateuch.
presented to him for a sweet savour and for food, so
was it by the flesh of the victim, hallowed through
Jehovah’s acceptance of his share, entering the bodies
of the priest and the assembly, that they were pre
sumed to be sanctified and their sins forgiven them.
Like other old observances grounded on speculative
notions, the custom of offering an imaginary sacrifice,
eating the imaginary flesh, drinking the imaginary
blood of an imaginary victim, and so obtaining for
giveness of their sins—oftener real than imaginary—•
is still kept up by communities boasting of the ad
vances they have made in reason and refinement.
Can we in the present age of the world, and with
the lights we have through our cultivated under
standing and accumulated knowledge, believe that
God ever gave such instructions as we have but just
perused—ever ordered the fashion of the priest’s
garments—ever, as a means of consecration to his
service, commanded his ministers to be anointed with
spiced oil; to be touched on the tips of their ears,
their thumbs, their great toes, and to have their
clothes sprinkled with the blood of a sheep ?
It is impossible to do so any longer.
Or that forgiveness for his sins and shortcomings
can be had by man through eating and drinking,
were it even the body and blood of the God he
worshipped ?
Let every man answer this query for himself. If
he have not been crippled in his capacity to judge
aright by a vicious education, or have not naturally
a soft part in his head, he will only be able to answer
it in one way. The more advanced among the Jews
themselves indeed must, in later times, have come to
the conclusion at which all reasonable men, whether
Jew or Gentile, have now arrived, when we find one
of their more advanced writers addressing them in
such words as these :—“ For what, 0 man, does
Jehovah require of thee but to do justly and to love
�Exodus: The Sacrifices.
233
mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God ” (Micah
vi. 8).
Can we, however, suppose that God gives command
ments at one time which he abrogates at another ?
God is the changeless and eternal: the same yester
day, to-day, and for ever. It is man who changes,
makes and unmakes, orders and annuls, not knowing
his mind from one hour to another.
What, then, conclude as to these minute command
ments about slaying and burning, anointing with oil
and sprinkling with blood, roasting, seething, and
eating in the holy place, &c., &c. ?
That very certainly they never came from God;
and that the men who maintain that they do are either
possessed of the moral and intellectual obliquity of
vision that leads astray, or are chargeable with the
blindness that comes of wilfulness.
Certain ordinances follow concerning the various
kinds of sacrifice that were to be offered, and the
times and seasons at which particular rites were to be
observed ?
A bullock is ordered to be offered daily for a sin
offering and for an atonement; two lambs also, day
by day throughout the year, one in the morning, the
other in the evening; these last being presented ap
parently as a kind of daily ration to Jehovah : Anthropomorphosing God, man imagined that God must be
fed like himself.
In this case flesh meat required the addition of
bread ?
Which is not forgotten any more than a measure
of wine to flavour the repast. Twelve cakes of un
leavened bread baked of wheaten flour, with olive oil
seasoned with salt and spice, were to be duly laid with
each recurring Sabbath morn upon the table which
stood beside the altar of sacrifice, the stale cakes
being then removed for the use of the priests, whose
perquisite they were.
�234
The Pentateuch.
There is also a special altar of Incense, the Jewish
Jehovah being held to delight in other and to human
nostrils sweeter scents than the smell of burning fat,
flesh, and blood ?
This altar, ordered to be overlaid with pure gold,
was to stand by the Ark of the Testimony, before the
Mercy Seat. On it Aaron was to burn sweet incense
every morning when he dressed the lamps, and at even
also, when he lighted them; for there it was that
Jehovah was to be met with and “ give the children
of Israel to know that he was Jehovah their God, and
that he dwelt among them.”
Are we not to think that God is the God of All the
inhabitants of the earth, and that he dwells not here
or there, in a tent or tabernacle, seated on the lid of
a coffer, but has his habitation in the universe ?
Our reason and philosophy assure us of so much ;
but the children of Israel and their teachers did not
think so ; and they who accept their annals as from
God are bound in consistency to agree with them ; an
obligation, however, with which we see the world
feeling it every day more and more difficult to comply.
“ When thou takest the sum of the children of Israel,
says the text, then shall every man give a ransom for
his soul (life) unto Jehovah, that there be no plague
among them.” The price to be paid as insurance of
their lives against pestilence being ?
Half a shekel of the sanctuary, the rich giving no
more, the poor no less.
Such an ordinance must surely point to a time when
the Israelites were a settled community, not to one
when they were wanderers in the wilderness, and at
starvation point ?
No doubt of it; and the order, now seen in this
light by every competent and candid critic, proclaims
the relatively modern date not only of the writing,
but of the institution of the festival itself; for neither
in Exodus (xxiii. 14), nor in Deuteronomy (xvi.),
�Exodus: Temple Furniture.
235
where the festivals of the year are particularly
commanded, do we find any mention made of
an atonement festival. It cannot even have been
known to Ezekiel (xlv. 18), the festivals of the
Seventh month of which he speaks being mere
repetitions of those of the First month, and the
word Atonement does not occur in his text. The great
day of the year to the Jews of Post-Exilic times, con
sequently, was unknown to the Israelites who lived
before the Babylonian Captivity.
Is it reasonable, however, to suppose that man can
ransom his life-, atone for his sins, or make an offer
ing to God by means of a piece of money ?
It is most unreasonable to think that he can. Man
can approach God in no way save by studying to
know and religiously obeying his laws. The money
price was a recent tax for the support of the religious
establishment of the country : “ thou shalt take the
atonement money of the children of Israel, and shalt
appoint it for the service of the tabernacle of the
congregation.” There could obviously be neither
numbering nor taxing of a horde wandering in the
wilderness, and having no tabernacle of the congrega
tion with numerous attached officials to maintain.
There were to be lavers of brass for the ministering
priests to wash in—furniture most essential, con
sidering the bloody work in which they were habitu
ally engaged. The oil used in anointing or conse
crating was also to be prepared in a particular
manner with oil olive, myrrh, and cassia; it was a
holy anointing oil, not to be imitated nor put upon
a stranger under penalty of death. The confection
for burning on the altar of incense also, composed of
sweet spices and frankincense, was to be prepared
after the art of the apothecary, and was to be ac
counted holy to Jehovah; whosoever should make
any like it, or who should even “ smell thereto,” was
to be cut off from his people.
�236
The Pentateuch.
Can we, we ask yet again, as reasonable beings,
believe that instructions for such trifles as these
were ever given by the great God of Nature to
mankind ?
No, no, no!
Or that he should threaten death to the man who
smelled at a compound of spice and frankincense ?
Never!
And can the book in which such commandments
are propounded as coming from God either be, or by
possibility be conceived to contain, the word of his
will to man ?
It is impossible to think that it can, when viewed
in connection with the Idea we are now privileged to
form of God. All that is said in the book before us
on the topics in question is, however, in perfect con
formity with the Idea which the legendary Moses,
and generations long after Moses and his age, may
be presumed to have entertained of their God, who
was in no wise the impartial parent of the universe,
but the partial God of the children of Israel; not the
God who makes the sun to shine and the rain to fall
on the just and the unjust alike, but a capricious
despot who guided the sunbeam and the shower at
his arbitrary will and pleasure on those he favoured
or had in despite.
How could the Israelites, so lately slaves to the
Egyptians, be supposed to have had among them
workmen possessed of skill to prepare the materials
and execute the details of the apparatus ordered for
use in the worship of their God ?
We can only conceive them short-handed in this
respect; still Jehovah, according to the text, informs
Moses that he had called Bezaleel, the son of Uri, and
filled him with the wisdom to contrive cunning works
in silver, and gold, and brass, in cutting and setting
precious stones, and in carving timber, and had given
him Aholiab, of the tribe of Dan, to help him, beside
�Exodus: Moses in the Mount.
237
others, wise-hearted, though unnamed,, and filled with
the wisdom necessary to make all as commanded.
It is somewhat difficult, nevertheless, to imagine
gold- and silver-smiths, lapidaries and engravers in
jasper and calcedony, carvers, gilders, weavers, up
holsterers, and the like, at work in the midst of a
starving multitude of fugitives from slavery, locked
in by a howling wilderness, and in want of the merest
necessaries of life ?
It is certainly difficult to think of arts that only
belong to settled and peaceful communities being
carried on under such circumstances.
Whence we conclude ?
That all these instructions are the work of rela
tively modern times, and that so much of the Penta
teuch as embodies them, as it cannot be from Moses,
so neither can it be from any document derived from
his age. The writer lived after the age of Solomon
and had the temple as a model from which he drew,
and the skilled Phoenician artizans who built and
ornamented it—Hirom of Tyre and his assistants, as
types of Bezaleel, the son of Uri, and Aholiab of the
tribe of Dan. Even in times when the Chaldmans
and Assyrians were policied peoples—astronomers,
artizans, &c., and using engraved cylinders as seals
in their dealings with one another, the intaglio of the
cylinder is not cut by the lapidary’s wheel of later
days, but by scratching with some point harder than
jasper or cornelian.
*
Moses must have been some considerable time
away whilst receiving all the minute instructions
said to have been given him by Jehovah on the
mountain ?
He was absent, according to the record, for forty
days and forty nights, and is said neither to have
eaten bread nor drunk water during all that time—
* See Landseer, ‘ Sabasan Researches.’
S
�238
The Pentateuch.
a statement sufficient of itself to stamp the entire
narrative as mythical; for as by God’s eternal fiat
man must eat and drink that he may live, so fasting
from solid and liquid food cannot be continued for
more than a very few days without serious derange
ment to the health, and, if persisted in for any much
longer term, without death ensuing as the penalty.
A very notable incident occurs during the absence
of Moses in the Mount ?
The people come to Aaron and say : Up ! make us
Gods to go before us ; for as for this Moses who brought
us out of the land of Egypt we wot not what has
become of him.
Is this a style of address likely to have been made
to Aaron the Priest, the brother of Moses, the leader
of the people ?
A late writer might be supposed to speak in such
terms—more respectfully couched, however,—for the
information of his public ; but the people about Aaron
could scarcely have thought it necessary to remind
him that it was Moses who had brought them out of
Egypt; and they could not but have known that
their leader was up in the mountain, in conference
with Jehovah.
Aaron, however, remonstrates with the foolish
people, and bids them think of all the wonders done
for them by Jehovah, who still dwelt amid the cloud
which only hid Moses from their sight upon the
mountain ?
He does nothing of the sort; assenting at once to
the reasonableness of their clamour apparently, and
familiar, as it might seem, with the worship of God
under the figure of a Bull, he bids them bring him
the rings of their wives and of their sons and
daughters; and having made a molten calf of the
gold, and fashioned it with a graving tool, he presents
it to the people as the God who had brought them
out of their Egyptian bondage 1 He does even more
�Exodus : The Golden Calf.
239
than this; he builds an altar before the Image of
the Bull-calf he has fashioned, and makes procla
mation for the morrow of a feast “ to the Lord! ”
This is most extraordinary—altogether incom
prehensible and incredible ! Would the man who
had witnessed and even taken an active part in the
performance of the extraordinary wonders said to have
been wrought in Egypt, and who could not but have
felt assured of the continuing countenance of Jehovah,
have acted as Aaron is now reported to have done ?
It is impossible to believe that he would.
Would a brave man, a truly pious man, who put
his trust in God through simple natural instinct, have
done anything of the kind ?
He would have suffered himself to be torn in pieces
by the rabid multitude first. '
What then conclude concerning the tale of the
golden calf?
Either that it is a fabrication, contrived for a
purpose which the writer has in view, or that Aaron
is inadvertently allowed to appear as he probably was
in fact—no priest of Jehovah, the spiritual conception
of the late writer of the Pentateuch, but the minister
of the God—El, Baal, Chiun, or Chamos, the true
deity of the ancient Hebrew and other cognate Semitic
tribes—the God of Times and Seasons and Repro
duction ; the God who ceaselessly begetting ceaselessly
devours his offspring, and whose visible image in
the early ages of the world struggling from darkness
into light was the Stone, the Tree, the Serpent, the
Bull, and the universally recognised symbol of the
reproductive power inherent in nature—the Phallus.
The mythical Aaron, we must conclude, either pre
sented the people with the image of the God with
whose worship they were already familiar ; or the
late writer whose work we have before us—one of
the Jehovistic Reformers, a priest of Judah, and
living in or after the reign of Hezekiah—may have
�240
The Pentateuch.
invented the tale of the Golden Calf of the Wilder
ness for the purpose of proclaiming how abhorrent to
Jehovah, the God of the Jews, was the Calf worship
established by Jeroboam as the religion of his realm
of Israel, which he had rent from the kingdom of
Judah.
The people are well content with the Idol which
Aaron has provided, and the feast he has promised ?
They rise up early in the morning, and having
made burnt and peace offerings to their Calf-God,
they sit down to eat and to drink, give themselves
up to merriment and the rites hallowed in the
worship of the Nature-God, upon the particular
character of which it is not necessary to speak
more at large in this place.
What, according to the text, says Jehovah to
Moses on the Mount, whilst all this is going on
below ?
“Get thee down,” says he, “for the people have
corrupted themselves ; they have turned aside quickly
out of the way I commanded them; they have made
them a golden calf, and have worshipped it, and made
offerings to it, and said: This is thy God, 0 Israel,
which has brought thee out of the land of Egypt! ”
It is Aaron the priest, however, who has just said
so ; but what more ?
“ Behold, this is a stiff-necked people; now, there
fore, let me alone that my wrath may wax hot against
them and that I may consume them.”
Jehovah would, apparently, have Moses restrain
him from breaking out upon the people and con
suming them. What answer does Moses make ?
He beseeches Jehovah, and asks him why he should
be wroth with the people and give the Egyptians
occasion to say :—He brought them out for mischief,
to slay them in the mountain and consume them from
the face of the earth. “ Turn from thy fierce wrath,”
he continues, “ and repent of this evil against thy
�Exodus : Moses and the Golden Calf. 241
people. Remember Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, to
whom thou swearedst by thine own self and saidst, I
will multiply thy seed as the stars of heaven, and this
land I have spoken of I will give to your seed to
inherit it for ever.”
What reply is the Jewish writer’s Jehovah—gene
rally accepted by Christians as the Omnipotent
Creator of the Universe—made to give to this friendly
remonstrance and reminder of the man Moses ?
It certainly is not the God of Philosophy and
Enlightened Piety who replies; it is the redactor of
this Hebrew legend who speaks when he makes his
God say that he “repents of the evil he thought to
do to his people;” for God is not a man that he
should repent, as a later and more advanced writer in
the same heterogeneous collection of books and frag
ments of books has said of the Deity whom he, in
better days, conceived.
Moses comes down from the mountain with the two
tables of the law in his hand, the writing, we are in
formed, being on both sides, and the handy work of
God himself. Coming near he hears shouting and
uproar in the camp, which Joshua, who seems now to
have joined him—although we have heard nothing of
this before—mistakes for sounds of discord or war,
but which Moses, with a truer ear and the intelligence
he had from Jehovah, interprets as no sounds of strife
but of mirth and rejoicing. Reaching the camp, he
sees the Calf and the dancing; his anger is roused,
and in his passion he casts the tables out of his hand
and breaks them in pieces beneath the mount.
This last act was surely unbecoming in a great leader,
as showing a lack of self-control, although his anger
was natural enough. What does he with the Calf ?
That, it is said, he burns in the fire, grinds to
powder, strews it on water which he makes the
people drink, and so compels them to swallow the
God that Aaron had made for them.
�242
The Pentateuch.
Can Gold be burned into ashes in the fire, and
strewed on water so that it may be drunk ?
Gold is unchangeable in any heat short of that
which is centred in the electric spark, by which, if in
leaf, it is dissipated in vapour. Gold, however, may
be beaten out into leaves and then broken up into
particles so fine as to be diffusible through liquids;
but it cannot be reduced to powder by burning in a
furnace; neither, indeed, can it be melted and cast
into an image of any description save wTith means and
appliances such as Aaron could not have commanded
in the wilderness.
So much at least of the story must, therefore, be a
product of the writer’s imagination; even as must
the information he gives, whereby we learn that the
tables which Moses brake in his vexation were written
on this side and on that by the finger of God himself,
a fact—if by possibility it could have been a fact, and
as involving an absurdity we unhesitatingly declare
it could be none, the Supreme Cause not having
fingers like a man—which the narrator could by no
possibility have known ?
So much presents itself as certain to the unpreju
diced mind.
Moses will, of course, be wroth with Aaron his
brother for what he has done ?
So we should have expected; but there is little
show of anger in the remonstrance he makes.
“What,” says he, in the mildest terms imaginable,
where the most severe would have been so much in
place, “ did this people unto thee that thou hast
brought this great sin upon them ? ” A question to
which Aaron can find no better reply than by begging
my Lord, his brother, not to be angry with him, repeat
ing the particulars of his reprehensible act, and declar
ing that, having cast the gold given him by the people
into the fire “ there came out this calf;” a miracu
lous image, therefore, that fell out of the fire, like
�Exodus : Slaughter of the People.
243
those we read of in Greek and Roman legends which
fell from heaven ! After this the subject is dropped
in so far as Aaron, the chief offender, is concerned.
But not as regards the ignorant people who, by
their doings, have roused the anger of Jehovah, and
the still more significant wrath of their leader ?
No, truly ! For Moses seeing that the people were
naked—“ Aaron having,” as it is said, “ made them
naked to their shame ”—scant clothing or nothing on
being the proper costume in the religious orgies of
the earlier ages of the world—he takes his stand in
the gate of the camp and says : “ Who is on Jehovah’s
side, let him come unto me; when all the sons of Levi
gathered themselves to him.”
What order is given-them in the name of Jehovah,
the God of Israel ?
A very terrible order indeed ! “ Put every man
his sword by his side,” says he, “ and go in and out
from gate to gate throughout the camp, and slay
every man his brother, and every man his companion,
and every man his neighbour.”
What! in spite of his having persuaded Jehovah
to repent of the evil he had intended against his
people ?
So it appears by the report, which, though we may
cling to the hope that it never had any foundation in
fact, is nevertheless not entirely out of keeping with
Other horrible practices of barbarous man—the custom
of the West Coast of Africa at the present time for
example. “ On that day it is said there fell of the
people three thousand men ! for Moses had said :
‘ Consecrate yourselves to-day to Jehovah, even
every man upon his son and upon his brother, that
he may bestow a blessing upon you this day !!! ”’
And there are men with open eyes and accessible
understandings among us who still maintain that
human sacrifices were not only never offered to their
God by the early Hebrews, but that they were even
�244
The Pentateuch.
abhorrent to the old Jewish mind ; that the firstborn
of the sons and daughters of Israel were at all times
redeemable by presentation at the Tabernacle to the
priest and payment of the petty sum of five silver
shekels of the sanctuary ?
Many men whose soundness of understanding,
scholarly acquirements, critical acumen and candour
can be implicitly relied on in all other directions,
halt in this one, and become false to themselves and
the great task they undertake of bringing light and
proclaiming the truth. And how shall we, living
near the end of this nineteenth century since Jesus
of Nazareth, our brother, and Epictetus, and Anto
ninus, and Seneca, and Marcus Tullius, and so many
others spoke their words of reason and of love and
mercy to the world, imagine that God could ever
have ordered the men who lived in any age to conse
crate themselves and earn his blessing by the wholesale
murder of naked, defenceless men, their sons, their
brothers, their neighbours, and their friends ; or how
continue to receive the record of such atrocities as
the revealed word of God ?
How, indeed I But such stories begin at length
to be questioned even by the many; the few—the
really educated, the well informed, the rational, the
merciful—have long rejected them as blasphemies, if
there be any such 1 against every conception which
reasonable man can form of the Supreme Not our
selves of a pious writer of the present day, by us
called shortly God.
What have we in the way of assurance that the
tale of this massacre cannot be founded on fact—
cannot be true ?
The certainty that the Levites did not exist as a
priestly caste—and the priestly character is implied
in the sacrificial part they are here made to enact—
in the age of Moses. Though pains are taken by
the late writers and editors of the Pentateuch to refer
�Exodus : Moses remonstrates with Jehovah. 245
the connection of the Levites with sacred matters to
the age of Moses, the Levitical Priesthood is satis
factorily ascertained to have been a relatively modern
institution—certainly not to have existed until after
the age of Solomon.
God, therefore, we must believe, never gave orders
to Moses of the kind detailed ?
God speaks not and never spoke in human speech
to man. We know not what amount of barbarity
had place in the mind of the mythical Moses, but an
order to slay ignorant men for yielding to the blind
instincts of their nature and conforming to the usages
of their forefathers very certainly never came from
God.
What does Moses now ?
He tells the people that they had sinned a great
sin, and full sorely have they been made to know and
to pay for it; but he adds that he will now go up to
Jehovah and peradventure make atonement for their
sin-—-speaking as if none had already been made
through the three thousand lives sacrificed by his
own orders !
What says Moses to Jehovah ?
Oh ! this people have sinned a great sin and made
them gods of gold ; yet now, if thou wilt forgive
their sin [and here there seems to be a gap in the
narrative, the terms Moses would make for the sin
ners being wanting], and if not, blot me, I pray thee,
out of thy book which thou hast written.
What answer does he receive ?
“ Whosoever hath sinned against me, him will I
blot out of my book,” is the curt reply.
This surely cannot be the God whom men in the
present day conceive and speak of as the loving father
of all, ready to forgive the sin of whosoever repents
and amends his ways ?
Certainly not; he is the God of a still earlier age
'of the world even than that of the Jehovistic writer
�246
The Pentateuch.
whose work we have before us,—a God delighting in
blood-stained altars, best pleased of all with human
sacrifices, requiring the first-born of man and beast
as burnt-offerings to himself, having his preferences
and partialities, commanding the extermination of
the peaceful and less powerful inhabitants of lands
no longer in his gift, and making lavish promises of
dominion, never attained, to a horde of barbarians
arrogating to themselves the title of his peculiar
people.
Jehovah, too, is represented as keeping a sort of
debtor and creditor account against mankind, after
the manner of things on earth ; but we find no notice
of the unwarranted use that had just been made of
his name, and of the slaughter of the three thousand
defenceless men in defiance of his own resolution, on
remonstrance made to him, to abstain from the evil
he had purposed against his people. Moses’ order to
the murderous Levites, however, was surely a crime
of a far deeper dye than the people’s sin—admitting
for a moment that the worship of their God under
the form of the Bull was a sin rather than an act of
ignorance, harmless in itself, sanctioned by the high
priest, and in conformity with immemorial usage
among themselves ?
There is no mention of anything of the kind;
neither is Moses taken to task for having himself
presumed to order the act of vengeance from which
he had diverted his God. He is merely commanded
to lead on towards the promised land. Jehovah,
however, still angry! with his people, will not accom
pany them in person as usual; he will not trust him
self among them, “ lest he break forth on them and
consume them by the wayhe will only send his
angel with the host in his stead.
This cannot surely be any likeness of the one God,
ruler of heaven and earth, with the conception of
whom the Jews are generally credited ?
�Exodus: Jehovah plagues the People. 247
It is much rather the portrait of an irascible mortal
not over-much possessed of self-control. It certainly
has nothing in common with the Idea of the Infinite,
Ubiquitous Cause, which men of culture now appre
hend under the name of God.
Though represented as not breaking out on the
people at once, and consuming them on the spot, the
Jehovah of the writer, we soon find, does not really
forego his purpose of revenge; he does not truly
keep his word to Moses, and “ repent of the evil he
had purposed against his peoplehe rather, as it
appears, abides by his resolution to blot them out of
his book; for in striking contrast with his merciful
purpose as previously announced, he now assures
Moses that “ the sins of the people shall be visited
upon them.” And the threat is not idle; for even as
if nothing had already been done in the way of expia
tion or amends by the slaughter of the three thousand,
Jehovah, we now learn, visits the people with a
plague “ because of the Calf which Aaron made.”
Do not the poor people appear to us in these
days rather to have needed instruction than merited
plaguing for yielding to the error of their age and
worshipping, under the form of a Calf or Bull, the
unknown Something beyond themselves which their
intuitive nature led them to divine, but which the
knowledge of their age did not permit them to con
ceive aright ?
As simply compassionate and considerate men we
should assuredly say so. And there is indeed excuse
as ample for the efforts of early man by personification
to obtain something like a definite conception of his
Deity as there is now nothing to be said for those
who still insist on speaking of God as a Person.
Modern theologians do, in fact, fall into the same
error as the ancient Hebrews when they speak of a
personal God; for a Person is an Entity among other
entities, limited in space, having length, breadth,
�248
The Pentateuch.
and thickness,—in other words, having a Form
of some sort. But figure God as he may, and in
the noblest fashion he can imagine, man’s Image of
God must still be as far from having any similitude to
the Supreme as was the golden Calf of the idolatrous
Israelites.
Referring to the later history of the Jewish people
—the split that took place between the kingdoms of
Judah and Israel, their mutual jealousies, animosities,
disastrous wars, and the coarsely expressed hostility
of the Jehovistic religious party of Jerusalem to the
worship of any other than the conception of Deity
under the name of Jehovah, to which the leading
minds among them had attained,—may we not infer
a motive for the invention of such a story as that of
the Golden Calf and the slaughter that followed its
worship ?
The tale may almost certainly be said to have been
composed after the reign of Solomon, its purpose
being as certainly to show the terrible consequences
that followed the desertion of Jehovah, the God of
Judah, for such Gods as Jeroboam, King of Israel, set
up for his subjects in Sechem and Dan.
*
Jehovah, then, all in renewing his promises of
giving the people possession of the land flowing with
milk and honey, having driven out its present occu
pants the Amorites, Hivites, Hittites, and others
from before them, will not trust himself to go in their
midst as heretofore, lest enraged by their perversity
and stiff-neckedness he break out and consume them
by the way—how does Moses proceed ?
He pitches the Tabernacle without the camp, and
whilst all the people stand at their tent doors, he him
self enters the structure, and it comes to pass, says
the text, that the cloudy pillar descends and stands
* See Bernstein : ‘ On the Origin of the Legends of Abra
ham, Isaac, and Jacob,’ one of Mr Scott’s series of papers, of
great interest.
�Exodus : Moses and Jehovah.
249
at the Tabernacle door. “And Jehovah talked with
Moses,” speaking to him “face to face as a man
speaketh unto his friend.”
How could so vast a multitude as the Israelites are
said to have been, have stood at their tent doors
within sight of the Tabernacle, and seen Moses enter
it to have a colloquy with Jehovah ?
How, indeed, seeing that they were millions in
number. But have we the matter of the conversation ?
We have—from the writer, understood. Moses
entreats Jehovah not to desert them, and reminds
him (!) that the people are his people. “ Is it not in
that thou goest with us that it shall be known that
I and thy people have found grace in thy sight, and
so are separated from all the people that are on the
face of the earth ? ”
Does Jehovah yield to the remonstrance of the
man ?
He does. The foolish mortal whose words we have
here, presuming to speak in the name of his God, pro
ceeds : “I will do this thing also that thou hast spoken;
for thou hast found grace in my sight, and I know thee
byname.”
Moses, presuming apparently on this compliant
mood of his God, makes another request as a kind
of personal favour : “ I beseech thee,” he says, “ show
me thy glory.” To which Jehovah, according to the
text, replies : “ I will make all my goodness pass before
thee; I will proclaim the name of Jehovah before
thee, and will be gracious to whom I will be gracious,
and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy
but “ thou canst not see my face; for there shall no
man see me and live. Behold there is a place by
me; thou shalt stand upon a rock; and it shall come
to pass, while my glory passeth by, that I will put
thee in a cleft of the rock, and will cover thee with
. my hand while I pass by; and I will take away my
hand, and thou shalt see my back parts.”
�2^0
The Pentateuch.
All this is worse than childish—it is absurd—alto
gether unworthy even to have been imagined, much
more to have been reduced to terms by man gifted
with reason. How shall the Omnipresent God, im
manent in the yet farther than the farthest of the fixed
stars plunged in the depths of endless space as in
the point therein that is filled by the mote on which
we dwell, be conceived of as shrunk to the limits of
a person, communing in human speech with an in
quisitive man as with his fellow, and showing him his
back parts ? God, let us be well assured, hides not
his face, though it have no feature in common with
the face of man, from him who reverently seeks to
know and to hold communion with him. In the uni
verse of things is God ever to be clearly seen, and in
the changeless laws by which the wondrous fabric is
upheld are his power and his providence ceaselessly
made known. Perusing these man dies not, but rises
ever into newness of life.
Have we not something analogous to this tale of
Moses’ curiosity in wishing to see the face of Jehovah
in what is called the heathen to distinguish it from the
Hebrew mythology ?
We have. Hercules, urgent with Jupiter to be
allowed to see his face, is long denied by the Father
of Gods and men. But, yielding at length, Jove slays
a Ram, wraps himself in the fleece, puts the head of
the animal over his own as a mask, and so meets the
Hero. Whilst it is extremely difficult to connect a
meaning with the Hebrew myth, it is not difficult to
read the mystery involved in the one we have from
the Greeks. Herakles, the Sun, in his annual course
through the Zodiac, is eager to arrive at the vernal
equinox, whose sign in the olden days was the Ram,
when, emerging from the inferior to the superior
signs, he escapes from his wintery impotence to his
summer power—from seeming death to renovated
life. This old astrological myth, the later Jewish
�Exodus: Jehovah and Moses.
251
writer, without understanding its meaning, has in all
probability transferred to his pages, but so travestied
as to leave it without the symbolical and poetical
significance it had in its original shape.
After his interview with Jehovah in the Tabernacle
and the vision he has whilst ensconced in the cleft of
the rock, Moses receives fresh instructions ?
He is commanded to hew two tables of stone like
the first, on which, says Jehovah, “ I will write
the words that were in the first tables which thou
breakedst; and be ready in the morning and come up
unto Mount Sinai ? ”
Moses does as he is commanded ?
With the two tables of stone in his hand he ascends
the mountain, and Jehovah, on his part, descends in a
cloud and proclaims himself as “ Jahveh-Elohim, mer
ciful and gracious, long-suffering and abundant in
goodness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands,
forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin, and that
will by no means clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity
of the fathers upon the children and upon the chil
dren’s children unto the third and fourth genera
tion.”
The former and the latter clauses of this communi
cation do not very well agree ?
Certainly they do not, and herein we have fresh
assurance of the composite character of the text—
evidence of the manipulation it has undergone and
of the additions that have been made to it at different
times. The merciful idea of one, and he, we may
presume, the later writer, is utterly opposed to the
revengeful and merciless conception of the other and,
let us believe, the older hand. God the absolute, had
he ever spoken—and we venture to say again that
God never did speak in articulate sounds to man—•
could not in one breath have so mixed up mercy with
far-reaching vengeance. We know the world is so
'constituted that all things with their being have in-
�2^2
The Pentateuch.
herent aptitudes which fit them for their states; and
it is in the exercise of these that sentient beings enjoy
their lives, and that what is called the goodness of
God finds its expression ; as, on the other hand, it is
in contravention of the laws of Nature, which are the
laws of God, that they bring down pains and penalties
on themselves, and that that which must be held to
be the righteous justice—never to be spoken of as the
vengeance—of God is displayed.
God does not surely visit the sins of the fathers on
their children ?
Never, in the sense in which the statement in the
text is made and is meant to be understood. In con
formity with the laws of hereditary descent, however,
the children of vicious and immoral parents, as well
as of those who have injured their health by indul
gence and excess of any kind, are apt to be vicious
and immoral, sickly and short-lived.
Jehovah renews the covenant he has already made
at several times with Moses and the patriarchs, and
declares his purpose of doing marvels such as have
not been done in the earth before. He will drive out
the inhabitants of the land to which he is leading his
people, and they, on their part, are to destroy the
altars of the natives, to break in pieces their images,
and cut down their groves [Aschera—wooden pillars,
typical of Astarte]. They are to worship no God
other than Jehovah, “for Jehovah, whose name is
Jealous, is a jealous Godto make no covenant with
the inhabitants of the land; to make no sacrifices to
their gods ; not to take of their daughters as wives or
concubines for their sons; to make no molten gods ;
to keep the feast of unleavened bread; and much
besides, though it is mostly repetition of what has
gone before, even to the seething of the kid in its
mother’s milk; the injunction as regards the first
born of man and beast being here accompanied by
the interpolated clause authorising its redemption, in
�Exodus: Moses and Dionysos.
253
contravention of the positive order elsewhere imple
mented, that it was Jehovah’s unconditionally, and
that whatsoever was ch&rem or devoted to Jehovah
“was' surely to be put to death.” How long does Moses
remain in the mountain on this second visit ?
Forty days and forty nights, of course, forty being
the sacred number; and under the same impossible
conditions as before, without meat or drink during
all that time.
There is something remarkable about Moses when
he comes down from the mountain ?
“ The skin of his face shone,” it is said, “ though
he wist it not.” The people being afraid to come
near him, he puts on a veil whilst speaking with
them, which he only removes when he goes in to
commune with Jehovah.
What may be the meaning of this ?
It were hard to say, unless it be that Moses is
occasionally made to take the place of his God, as he
certainly at times shows himself the more placable
and considerate of the two,-—-than which nothing can
be conceived more absurd; or it may be that, coming
from the great presence in which he is said to have
stood, he is represented as shedding physical as well
as metaphysical light; whence the shining of his face
and the need of the veil; hence, too, the horns, typical
of rays of light, with which the sculptor and painter
have felt themselves authorised to ornament his brow.
These extraordinary particulars appear to turn
Moses into a wholly mythical personage ?
Assimilating him as they do in so remarkable a
manner with the Dionysos, or Bacchus, of the Pagan
Mythology. He, as well as Moses, is born in Egypt,
and the birth of each is concealed for a time, to
escape the hostility of a royal personage. Both are
exposed in an ark or cradle on the Nile, and are alike
rescued by a king’s daughter. Both lead a host to
victory—Dionysos in India, Moses in Palestine—
T
�254
The Pentateuch,
with a rout of women and children among them.
Both walk dryshod through seas and rivers, which
part at the word of command; and both draw water
from the rock by striking it with a magic rod. Both
have one of their names, at least, from Water—Mow,
in Egyptian, signifying water,—the Hebrew leader
being called Mouses, and the heathen god Myses.
Dionysos, moreover, like Moses, has the predicate
Legislator, Thesmophoros ; and both are represented
as horned,—Dionysos being characterised as Taurokeros, Bull-horned, and Moses, as just said, being
familiarly represented with horns upon his forehead.
As the heathen god, to conclude, was styled Luaios
and Liber, the Free, the Freer, so is Moses the De
liverer ■ and if Dionysos have several proper names,
so has Moses,-—Manetho informing us that he was
known as Osarsiph and Tisithes ; Osarsiph being no
other than Osiris, and Tisithes, i.e. Seth, the sacred
name of Sirius, the star whose heliacal rising regu
lated the Egyptian year and symbolised its God.
Is there not something like inconsistency in the
circumstances amid which the Tables of the Law are
at length delivered to Moses, and the fact that the
Law itself—in so far, at least, as the decalogue is
concerned—has been already imparted, with every
possible impressive adjunct,—Mount Sinai quaking
and being all of a smoke, thunder bellowing, lightning
flashing about its crown, and loud and long-breathed
trumpet-blasts coming out of the cloud that hung
about it ?
It might be said, with great show of truth, that the
account we have of the delivery of these Tables is but
another version, and by another hand, of the delivery
of The Law at large—many of the heads of the Deca
logue following in the part of the text that is now
before us, such as the commandment to have no God
but Jehovah, to make no molten images, and to rest
on the seventh day. To these, however, are appended
�Exodus: Legislation.
255
many other injunctions, some momentous, many in
different, but all alike left out of the Eclectic Sum
mary under the Ten heads which we presume we
owe to the more practised and much later writer of
the Twentieth Chapter. Among the number of these
additional commandments is the order to keep the
feasts of unleavened bread and of weeks, of firstfruits and the in-gathering of the year’s increase
at the year’s end; to appear thrice in the year before
Jahveh-Elohim, the Elohim (God) of Israel; not to
offer the blood of his sacrifices with leaven ; to leave
nothing of the feast of the passover until the morn
ing; and not to seethe a kid in its mother’s milk—a
procedure that must have had a significance to the
Israelites which we fail to discover.
Besides these, there is the important reminder that
all that opens the womb, whether of man or beast, ox
or sheep, that is a male, is Jehovah’s ; the firstling of
an ass, however, being ordered exceptionally either to
be redeemed 'with a lamb or to be put to death by
having his neck broken. What Jehovah’s objection
to receive the firstling of the ass may have been we
do not learn from the Hebrew scriptures. Erom
other sources of information, however, we know that
the ass was one of the animals sacred to the Egyptian
Typhon, the God in his adverse aspect; and that the
mode of sacrifice of the animal to him was that pre
cisely which is commanded in the Hebrew text,—it
was thrown down from a height, and so killed or had
its neck broken. The first-born son of the human
kind, is now ordered to be redeemed, and none are
to appear before Jehovah empty.
The redemption clauses, where they occur, we have
already seen reason to conclude, must have been
added subsequently to the original requisition for the
first-born ?
When we observe that the text in several other
places has nothing about redemption, that this is in
�256
The Pentateuch.
direct contradiction to antecedent positive require
ments, and that denunciations against the practice of
child-sacrifice are of frequent occurrence in the writings
of the later prophets, we shall find no reason to doubt
*
that inasmuch as the first-born of man, being males,
are now ordered to be redeemed, so were they in
former times, and as the rule, sacrificed on the altar
of El, Bel or Baal-Molech, the proper God of the
early Hebrew people and no other than Saturn, the
chief God of the Semitic race.
So much for the Book of the Exodus; all that fol
lows after the thirty-fifth chapter, to which we have
now arrived, containing little or nothing but repe
titions of what has been already minutely set forth in
the chapters from the twenty-first to the thirty-fourth
inclusive.
The whole of this concluding part of the Book has
been held by two esteemed Jewish critics and scholars
to be the composition of a writer who lived not earlier
than from the 270th to the 260th year before the
Christian sera.f The text of these chapters, how
ever, being referred by Kuehnen to the Book of the
Origins, and given by Dr Davidson to the Elohist,
may, possibly, be as old as the earlier portions
of the Book which treat of the same matters.
But questions of age and authorship do not greatly,
and at every turn, interest us here, engaged as we
chiefly are with the moral aspects of the subject, and
* To quote a single instance from the Prophets: “ They
built the high places in Tophet, in the valley of the sons of
Hinnom, to burn their sons and their daughters in the fire.”
(Jerem. vii. 31.) The restriction of the sacrifice to males
appears even to have been a late addition. All that opened
the matrix, whether male or female, was doubtless the original
form.
+ See Kalisch, ‘ Hist, and Crit. Comment, on the Old Testa
ment : Exodus and Leviticus; ’ and Popper, ‘ Die biblische
Bericht fiber die Stiftshiitte.’ 8vo. Leipz. 1862.
�Exodus: Composition of the Book.
257
the possibility of receiving it as the veritable word of
God to man. That Exodus comprises some of the most
ancient records of the Hebrew myths and legislative
enactments that have reached us, is unquestionable.
Down to the thirty-fifth chapter it is, in the main, very
certainly older than every part of the Book of Genesis,
and has been presumed to have been compiled and put
together about the beginning of the seventh century
before Christ—a thousand years after the age of Moses,
but both added to and altered in still more recent
times. How can we, in truth, as reasonable men,
imagine Moses surrounded by the Israelites in the
desert calling to him Bezaleel and Aholiab, and others,
cunning workers in gold and silver and precious
stones, weavers, dyers, embroiderers, tanners, with
a host of artificers besides, and setting them to
carry out the minute instructions he is said to
have received from Jehovah for making the Tent
or Tabernacle, the Ark of the Testimony, the Altars
of burnt offering and Incense, the Table of the Show
bread, &c., &c.,—the surfaces of these last being
ordered to be overlaid with pure gold (when they are
not to be wholly composed of this precious metal),
the cherubim all of beaten gold, the seven-light lamp
stand with its knobs, branches, lamps, snuffers and
snuffer dishes, all also of pure gold; the hangings of
fine twined linen—scarlet, purple, and blue—inter
laced with gold, fastened to pillars having chapiters
overlaid with silver by means of hooks of the same
precious and, in the olden time, little known metal,
&c., &c.,—as we find matters set forth with wearisome
prolixity and iteration in this concluding part of the
book of Exodus ?
It is not possible to do so. The people, according
to the record, were only kept from starving by mira
culous showers of manna (which we feel certain never
fell from heaven, though it may then have been, as it
still is, scantily produced at a particular season by
�• 258
The Pentateuch.
the thorny mimosa that lives a dwarfed existence in
many parts of the desert), and flights of quails, which
still arrive in Egypt, Palestine, and other lands at
certain times of the year. How could a community
so circumstanced have had the apparatus-furnaces,
crucibles, moulds, lathes, looms, saws, planes, dye
stuffs, tan-pits, and the hundred other implements
and appliances indispensable to workers in wood,
metal, and precious stones, in wool, flax, and leather ?
The Israelites were never mechanics or mechanicians.
So late as the age of Saul they had not a blacksmith
among them, but sent their ploughshares and coulters
to their neighbours, the Philistines, to be sharpened.
If this be true their early battles could have been
fought with no better arms than clubs ; in the days
of the Judges, Samgar is said to have used an ox
goad, and Samson so primitive a weapon as the jaw
bone of an ass, in the mythical combats in which so
many hundreds or thousands of the enemy compla
cently suffered themselves to be slaughtered by these
heroes of the imagination—even so late as the age of
Solomon artificers had to be brought from Tyre to
plan and build the Temple ! The whole of the tales
about Moses’ laws and constructions are beyond all
question the creation of writers who lived long, very
long, after the age of the great leader—men who had
seen settled life, and must be presumed to have had
not only the First but the Sqcond Temple as the
model from which they drew.
It was not very long, according to the record, after
the Exodus, before the Tent or Tabernacle, the Ark
and Altars, with their furniture complete, were set up
and ready for inauguration ?
No more than a year : “ On the First day of the
First month of the Second year after quitting Egypt,”
all being in order, the ceremony of Inauguration was
performed. The lamps having been lighted, incense
sublimated, and burnt offerings presented, “a cloud,”
�Exodus : Composition of the Book.
259
it is said, descended and covered the Tent, and the
Glory of Jehovah filled the Tabernacle.
This is but a short time, all things else considered ?
Were so much accomplished by the end of the first
year or beginning of the second, it becomes by so
much the more difficult to imagine what the Israelites
could have been about during the remaining thirty
eight or rather thirty-nine years said to have been
spent by them as wanderers in the wilderness. From
the inauguration of the Tabernacle the history of
the people is a blank until we meet with them making
an attempt, in which they were foiled, to penetrate
Palestine proper on the side of Moab. Forty years,
however,—forty being the sacred number and indis
pensable in the narrative—had to be got over, and
the historian—or shall we say the poet—uses them in
a series of marchings and counter-marchings, to and
fro, from one imaginary station or camping-place to
another, with ever-recurring miraculous interpositions
of Jehovah to keep the people from dying of hunger
and thirst, and repeated murmurings and rebellions
on their part, not without good reason as it seems ;—•
eight or nine-and-thirty years are consumed in
getting over ground that, with every allowance for
contingencies in the shape of delays, difficulties,
necessary halts, &c., could easily have been left
behind in something less than eighteen months after
quitting Sinai, by a horde numerically great as it
is possible to imagine the Israelites to have been, if
they managed to live even for a year in the wilder
*
ness.
The Book of the Exodus ended, and the apparatus
for the ceremonial worship of the sons of Israel com
plete, we now come to the minute instructions for
* Goethe—Nihil quod non tetegit, &c.—has discussed this
subject in a very complete manner in his notes to the better
understanding of his West-East Divan: Zum bessern Verstandniss des West-Ostlichen Divan : Israel in der Wuste.
�26o
The Pentateuch.
carrying it into practice, these being especially com
prised in the next Book of the Series—Leviticus—
although many points have already fallen under our
notice in the book that engages us. The ceremonial
worship of the Jews, however, interests us little in
the present age ; it had even in most particulars ceased
to interest the better minds among themselves some
considerable time before their disruption and disper
sion as a people. Its practice has long since and
necessarily been abandoned in many of its most im
posing elements by the modern Jew, the dweller in
every inhabited land beneath the sun where there is a
living to be made by petty or more liberal traffic,
money-dealing, and the like. The record of such a
system of religious observance, the outcome of the
blind religious sense, indeed, could have no real
interest apart from the tale it unfolds of the childish
beliefs and barbarous acts mistakenly held good and
acceptable to God in an early age of the world’s
history, were it not for the influence it has had on
the religious ideas and religious practices of the most
civilised among the peoples of the earth. There is now
no longer any slaughter of bullocks and rams, goats
and turtle-doves, before the Image of Jehovah at the
door of the Tabernacle or Temple, no burning of fat
and flesh to make what was regarded as a sweet
savour to Jehovah, no longer the lamb at morning and
at evening as his daily ration, nor the show-bread as
its complement and the measure of wine as the
indispensable drink offering ! The terms of the later
Jewish legislation may even be said to have made the
continuance of the sacrificial and ceremonial system
of earlier days, entitled Mosaic or Levitical, impos
sible. By the modern reformed code sacrifice could
only be performed in one, place, and that Jerusalem,
and at one altar—that of the Temple—an ordinance
which may have been devised in view of the Jewish
people scattered over the face of the globe, and
�Exodus : Conclusion.
261
announced as a means of getting rid of the blood
stained rites of the earlier system.
The worship of God by the descendants of the
ancient Hebrews has indeed been long purified from
almost everything that can offend the reasonable reli
gious views of the cultivated in the present age; and
it might even seem that there was a possible future
for the Jehovism professed by the most advanced and
enlightened of their later writers. Could the Jews
but abandon the insolent and indefensible idea of their
being, or ever having been, in any sense, the peculiar
people of God; discard the barbarous rite of circum
cision as a necessity of their initiation ; cease to think
of any kind of wholesome aliment as otherwise than
clean, and of bullocks and sheep as food unfit for them
unless slaughtered in a certain way by one of them
selves, they would have done away with almost all
that keeps them Parias in the midst of the enlightened
among European communities. The last named silly
prejudice in particular given up, one great bar to a
good social understanding between Jew and Gentile
would be removed ; and until it is removed no per
fectly good understanding can be come to between
them, for must not my brother eat of the same
mess and drink of the same cup as myself I
If so much be ever accomplished, the descendants
of the ancient Hebrew stock will have made a
greater stride in the Religious Idea than did their
fathers when they forsook the worship of BaalPeor, Moloch, and Astarte, gave up eating with
the blood (eating raw flesh) on High-places, and
ceased to celebrate the orgies of the Phoenician Venus
in booths and under the shade of green trees. Com
porting themselves in all respects as reasonable
beings, they would possibly find that, instead of
being looked on as subjects for the proselytising zeal
of ignorant, bigoted, and presumptuous men and
women to wreak itself hopelessly upon, they might,
�262
The Pentateuch.
without themselves coming under the influence of
any such bad passion, discover that adherents to the
simple theism they professed were to be won from
among their uncircumcised neighbours, more piously
minded than the mass, but lacking the capacity to
believe that God had ever cursed the world, or con
trived matters so indifferently as to make its redemp
tion necessary by appearing in human shape to be a
propitiatory sacrifice to himself. The people of Eng
land spend a million a-year in missions and futile
efforts to convert the Jew and the heathen to Christi
anity,-—-whence may the mission come that shall con
vert them from the unworthy ideas of the Supreme
they entertain, and teach them the eternal laws he has
ordained for the rule of their lives, of the earth they
inhabit, and of the infinite Universe of which they
and it are so small and insignificant a part!
�
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Victorian Blogging
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A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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Conway Hall Library & Archives
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2018
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
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Title
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The Pentateuch in contrast with the science and moral sense of our age.
Description
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Place of publication: London
Collation: 205-262 p. ; 18 cm.
Notes: "By a Physician". Author believed to be Robert Willis. From the library of Dr Moncure Conway.
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Willis, Robert
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1873
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Thomas Scott
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Bible
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English
Bible
Conway Tracts
-
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Text
NATIONAL SECULAR SOCIETY
kJ 05^
THE
JOINT EDUCATION
OF
YOUNG MEN AND WOMEN
IN THE
AMERICAN SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES.
BEING A LECTURE DELIVERED BEFORE THE
SUNDAY LECTURE SOCIETY,
On 27th
of
April, 1873,
BY
MARY E. BEEDY, M.A.,
Graduate of Antioch College, U.S.
LONDON:PUBLISHED
by the
SUNDAY LECTURE SOCIETY.
1873.
Price Threepence.
�SUifoerttsentent.
SUNDAY LECTURE SOCIETY,
To provide for the delivery on Sundays in the Metropolis, and
to encourage the delivery elsewhere, of Lectures on Science,
—physical, intellectual, and moral,—History, Literature,
and Art; especially in their bearing upon the improve
ment and social well-being of mankind.
THE SOCIETY’S LECTURES
ARE DELIVERED AT
ST GEORGE’S HALL, LANGHAM PLACE,
On SUNDAY Afternoons, at FOUR o’clock precisely
(Annually—from November to May).
Twenty-four Lectures (in three series), ending 3rd May,
1874, will be given.
Members’ LI subscription entitles them to an annual ticket
(transferable and admitting to the reserved seats), and to eight
single reserved-seat tickets available for any lecture.
Tickets for each series (one for each lecture), or for any
eight consecutive lectures, as below :
To the Shilling Reserved Seats—5s. 6d.
To the Sixpenny Seats—2s. being at the rate of Three
pence each lecture.
For tickets apply (by letter) to the Hon. Treasurer,
Wm. Henry Domville, Esq., 15 Gloucester Crescent, Hyde
Park, W.
Payment at the door
One Penny
Sixpence ■—and
(Reserved Seats) One Shilling.
�JOINT EDUCATION
OF
YOUNG MEM AND WOMEN.
HE American colonists carried with them their
practical English tendencies.
They were
impressed with a deep sense of the advantages of
education, but it had to be got at the least expense.
In the towns and cities they could have schools
for boys and schools for girls, but in the sparselypopulated rural districts separate schools were
impossible. It was almost more than the farmp.rs
could do to pay the cost of one. All the boys and
girls within a radius of two or three miles met
together in the same school. They were companions
and rivals in their pastimes, and it probably did not
occur to any one to consider whether there could
be any danger in continuing this rivalry in their
lessons. In the rapid growth of the population
some of these rural centres gradually became vil
lages and towns, but the joint education of the
girls and boys went on.
Iwo leading principles in school economy are, to
secure the smallest number of classes, and the
greatest equality of attainment between the pupils
in each class; and these principles favour large
schools rather than numerous schools. Schools
affording a higher grade of instruction, and known
T
�4
"Joint Education of
as academies, sprang up here and there. These
were private enterprises, and the commercial aim
was to furnish the best educational advantages
for the largest number of pupils at the least ex
pense. The teacher wanted to make as much money
as he could, and the parents had in general but little
to spend for the education of their sons and daughters.
The same economical views made these joint schools :
fewer teachers were required. These academies,
with the district schools I have before mentioned,
met almost the entire educational demands of the
rural and village population. A few of the more
ambitious boys went from these academies to the
universities, and a few of the girls went to young
ladies’ boarding-schools; but these were exceptional
cases.
You probably know that we have no men of
wealth and leisure living in the country. The soil
is owned by the men who work it, and the rich
men live in the cities. And I suppose you also know
that in any generation of American men the large
majority of those who lead in commerce, in politics,
and in the professions are the sons of farmers^
who in their boyhood worked on the farms and'
went to these rural schools in the leisure season;
the wives of these men having had for the most
part the same rural training. You can readily
see from this that the peculiarities of our rural
life, the circumstances that gave these men and
women the energy to bring themselves to the front
Tank of society, were likely to mefit with approval.
However, joint education was simply looked upon
as one of the necessities of our youthful life till
about twenty years ago. Men who rose to positions
of wealth and honour upon the basis of the educa
�Young Men and Women.
5
tion received in these schools did not praise joint
education any more than they praised the other
natural and frugal habits that attended their rural
life. No one had philosophised upon this system,
and there was no occasion to think of it. It had
simply been the most natural means of meeting a
great need. In both the district schools and in the
academies the boys and girls did about the same
work. They liked. to keep together. Now and
then a boy went a little farther in mathematics
than the girls did, in the prospect of a business
career and a life in the city; or he learned more Latin
and Greek in preparation for the university. There
was no question about difference of capacity or
difference of tastes between boys and girls; there
was nothing to suggest it. They liked to do the
same things, and the one did as well as the other.
Forty years ago, in one of the academies near Bos
ton, a number of girls went with a set of their school
boy-friends through the entire preparation for Har
vard University. The girls knew mathematics and
Greek as well as the boys did, and formed a plan for
going to the university with them. I cannot say
whether the plan grew out of a keen zest forknow
ledge, or out of an unwillingness to break off the
very pleasant companionship. Probably from both.
The girls did not think there could be much objection
to admitting them at the university. They thought
the reason there were no girls at the universities
was that none had wanted to go, or had been pre
pared to go. They proposed to live at home; so there
would be no difficulty on the score of college resi
dence. However, as their request was new, it
occurred to them that a little diplomacy might be
required in presenting it; so they deputed the most
�6
J
’ oint Education of
prudent of the party to do the talking, and imposed
strict silenee upon the youngest and most impulsive
one, from whom I have the story. The girls called
upon old President Quincy ; they told him what they
had done in their studies,—that they had passed
the examinations with the boys, and wished to be
admitted to the university. He listened'to their
story, and evinced so much admiration for their
work and aims that they at first felt sure of success.
But President Quincy seemed slow in coming to the
point. He talked of the newness and difficulties of
the scheme, and proposed other opportunities of
study for them, till at length this youngest one,
forgetting in her impatience her promise to keep
silent, said, “Well, President Quincy, you feel sure
the trustees will let us come, don’t you ? ”
0, by
no means,” was the reply :“ this is a place only for
men.”' The girl of sixteen burst into tears, and
exclaimed with vehemence, “ I wish I could anni
hilate the women, and let the men have every
thing to themselves! ”
This, so far as I know, was the first effort made
by women to get into an American university, but
the incident was too trifling to make any impression,
and I narrate it only as marking the beginning of
the demand for university advantages for women.
About the same time Oberlin College was founded
in Northern Ohio. It grew out of a great practical
everyday-life demand. There was a wide-spread
desire on the part of well-to-do people for larger
educational advantages than the ordinary rural
schools provided. They could not afford the expense
of the city schools : besides, they wanted their sons
and daughters to go on together in their school work ;
they were unwilling to subject either to the dangers
�Young Men and Women.
7
of boarding-school life without the companionship
and guardianship of the other. Oberlin College was
founded on the strictest principles of economy. It
was located in a rural village in the West, where the
habits were simple and the living inexpensive. In
the third year of its existence it had 500 students,
and since the first ten years it has averaged nearly
1,200, the proportion of young women varying from
one-third to one-half. There was a university
course of study for the young men, and a shorter
ladies’ course for the young women, which omitted
all the Greek, most of the Latin, and the higher
mathematics. It was not anticipated that the
young women would desire the extended university
course, but so far as the two courses accorded the
instruction was given to the young men and the
young women in common. But the young women
were allowed to attend any of the classes they chose,
and at the end of six years a few of them had pre
pared themselves for the B.A. examination, and
were allowed upon passing it to receive the degree.
The college authorities did not seem to consider
that B.A. and M.A. were especially masculine
designations. They regarded them only as marks of
scholastic attainments, which belonged equally to
men and women when they had reached a certain
standard of scholarship. Not many Women could
stay, or cared to stay, long enough to get these
degrees. The “ ladies’ course ” required nearly two
years’ less-time, and contained a larger proportion of
the subjects that women are expected to know. The
number of women who have received the university
degrees from Oberlin is still less than a hundred,
making an average of only two or three for each
year. Oberlin sent out staunch men and women.
�"8
"Joint Education of
Wherever these men and women went it was ob
served that they worked with a will and with effect.
The eminent success of Oberlin led many parents
in different parts of the country to desire its advan
tages for their sons and daughters. But Oberlin was
a long way off from New England and from many
other parts of the country; besides some thought
it an uncomfortably religious place; negroes were
admitted, and it was altogether very democratic,
much more so than many people liked. So parents
began to say, 11 Why can’t we have other colleges
that shall provide all the advantages of Oberlin and
omit the peculiarities we dislike.” Now began the
discussion upon the real merits of this economical
system of joint education. It had sprung up like
an indigenous plant. It had met a necessity remark
ably . well, and it was only when, its advantages
becoming recognised, it began to press itself into
the cities and among people where it was not a ne
cessity, that it evoked any discussion. This was a
little more than twenty years ago. People who had
observed the working of the joint schools were alto
gether in favour of them. The wealthier people in
the towns and cities, who were accustomed to having
boys and girls educated apart, preferred separate
schools, and thought joint education would be a dan
gerous innovation ; that in the institution adopting
it the girls would lose their modesty and refinement,
and the boys would waste their time. Leading edu
cators were divided upon this question: „ those who
were familiar with the joint schools were the most
uncompromising advocates of that system; those
who had known only the schools where girls and
boys were educated apart for the most part preferred
separate education, where it could be afforded. Not
�Young Men and Women.
9
all, however, for many had developed the theory of
joint education out of an opposite experience. In
girls’ schools they had felt the want of adequate
stimulants for thorough work. They had seen the
strong tendency in girls to fit themselves for society
rather than for the severer duties of life ; they be
lieved that if girls were associated with boys and
young men in their studies, they would not only be
better scholars, but that they would remain longer
in school, that they would have less eagerness to
get out of school into society. And many who
were familiar with boys’ schools felt the dangers
attendant upon the absence of domestic influence,
and saw that it might be very largely supplied by
the presence of sisters and schoolfellows’ sisters.
They saw too that the tendencies to a coarse
physical development, which are found in an ex
clusive- society of men, might be counteracted by
the presence of women. In short, all who were
acquainted with joint education gave it their most
unqualified approval; while those who knew only
the system of separate education were for the most
part disposed to favour that, though many of these
saw the need of something in girls’ schools which the
presence of boys would introduce, and something in
boys’ schools which the presence of girls would sup
ply. The advocacy of joint education was valiantly
led by Horace Mann, the greatest American educator,
the man who stands with us where Dr Arnold
stands in the hearts of English people.
About this time Antioch College was founded in
Southern Ohio, and Mr Mann was invited to take
charge of it. Its object was to provide educational
facilities as nearly equal to those found at the best
New England universities as possible, and it
was
�io
Joint Education of
founded avowedly upon the principle that joint
education per se was a good thing; that it was
natural; that it was a great advantage to have
brothers and sisters in the same school; that girls
were both more scholarly and more womanly when
associated with boys, and boys were more gentle
manly and more moral when associated with girls ;
and that both girls and boys come out of joint
schools with juster views of life, and a larger sense
of moral obligation.
Other new colleges followed the example of
Antioch, and some of the old ones began to open their
doors to women. To-day the national free schools
and public schools in most of the cities of the North
educate boys and girls together. In some of the older
cities, particularly Boston, New York, and Phila
delphia, the schools are for the most part conducted
on the original plan of separate schools. The school
buildings are not arranged for the accommodation of
boys and girls together, and there is still a strong
sentiment against the plan, though it is gradually,
and I may say rapidly, giving way. In tire Western
cities, Cincinnati, Chicago, and St Louis, the boys
and girls study together throughout the entire
course, that is, till they are ready to go to the
universities ; though in St Louis, and perhaps in
the other two cities, there are a few of the grammar
schools where they are still apart, the buildings not
being arranged for the accommodation of both.
The system prevails in the rural schools almost
without exception, and almost as generally in the
public schools' of the towns and cities, with the
exceptions that I have mentioned ; there are now
over thirty colleges and universities that offer univer
sity degrees to women on the same conditions as
�Young Men and Women.
11
to men. On the other hand, there is still a large
number of private schools in the towns and cities
which are generally either boys’ schools or girls’
schools. They are for the most part schools esta
blished for teaching the children of some pai-ticular
religious denomination, for fitting boys for a com
mercial career, or for giving especial drill for the
universities; or, in the case of girls’ schools, for
giving especial training for society: but the public
schools are rapidly drawing into them the children
of the best educated families, for the simple reason
that they are the best schools of the country.
The oldest universities and colleges still keep
their doors shut against women. Harvard, within
the last year, has appointed a committee to consider
the demand made by women, but their report was
adverse. The committee recognised the success of
the system elsewhere, but thought it not wise to
attempt the change in Harvard.
Michigan University, a free state university,
which stands second to none in educational advan
tages, except Harvard and Yale, and has double the
number of students of either of these, admitted
women three years ago. And Cornell University,
which has as good prospects as any in the country,
has just received its first class of women.
I heard it announced with great gravity in the
British Association a year-and-a-half ago in Edin
burgh, that girls had no difficulty in learning arith
metic, and no one smiled. So completely is this
question settled with us, that I think such .an
announcement would have been received by a
public assembly in America with a derisive laugh.
Joint schools and colleges have settled the question
whether girls can learn not only arithmetic, but
�12
'Joint Education of
also the higher mathematics, logic, and metaphysics;
and have established beyond a doubt in the minds
of American educators, that in acute perception,
in the ability to grasp abstruse principles, the
feminine mind is in no wise inferior to the mascu
line. But the question is still open, whether
women have the physical strength to endure the
continuous mental work requisite for the greatest
breadth and completeness of comprehension. This
can be determined only by experiments which shall
extend through a longer series of years devoted to
study. The records at Oberlin indicate that the
young women are no more likely to break down in
health than the young men are. The records of
the city schools do not seem to be quite the same
upon this point, but the same difference would
doubtless appear if the girls were not in school; and
this failure in health cannot be attributed to the
school work, but rather to the more indoor life of the
girls. The Oberlin statistics also indicate that the
women who have taken the university degrees have
not diminished their chance of longevity by this
severe work in their youth. Women have less phy
sical strength than men have, but there seems to be
in them a tendency to a more economical expendi
ture of strength. Their energy is less driving, and
there is, in consequence, less waste from friction.
In regard to the social morality at these schools
the results are equally satisfactory. At the rural
schools boys and girls. have almost unrestricted
companionship; they have just the same freedom
in their home intercourse, but improper or even
objectionable conduct is a'thing unknown at the
schools, and almost equally unknown in the associa
tion outside the schools. Brothers and brothers’
�Young Men and Women.
13
friends guard the sister, and sisters and their friends
o-uard the brother. In cases where it is necessary
for the pupils to reside at the school there is more
love-making, but it is mostly repressed by want of
time; besides, there are few occasions for meeting,
except in the presence of the class, and where there
is an acquaintance with so many on about equal
terms an especial regard for one is less likely to be
formed. The admiration of the boys is suie to
centre upon the girls who are nearest the head
of the class; but these girls have not time to return
it and keep their position, and to lose their position
would be to lose the admiration; and the same is
true with the boys.
I am sure it would be surprising to any one who
is not familiar with these schools to observe to what
very practical and common-sense principles all these
otherwise romantic and illusory relations are sub
jected. In this mutual intellectual rivalship the
conjectural differences between the sexes, and the
fancied charms of the one over the other, are sub
mitted to very practical tests. A disagreeable boy
is not likely to be considered a hero in virtue of his
assumed bearing and physical strength; nor is a
silly girl, by* dint of her coquettish airs likely to
be thought a fairy with magical gifts. Girls know
boys as boys know each other; and boys know girls
as girls know each other. Hence the subtle charms
that evade human logic find little opportunity to
blind and mislead in the constant presence of unmistakeable facts.
In all the time I was at Antioch College no word
of disreputable scandal ever came to my ears, and
in recent years I have repeatedly heard from young
men who were there when I was, that in their whole
�14
Joint Education of
five or six years they never heard the faintest shadow
of imputation against any young woman in the
institution. And so stern was the morality, that
smoking, beer-drinking, and card-playing were
all considered crimes,, and banished from the
premises.
You have now heard my statement respecting the
effectiveness of joint education, and, though it is
made from a very extended and thorough acquaint
ance with the system, I shall not ask you to accept
it without the support of other and authoritative
testimony. Abundant confirmation of my state
ment will be found in all Official Reports and in
treatises that review this system, while no testi
mony of a contrary character is anywhere to be
found. I will first quote from the published
. Report of Mr Harris, Superintendent of the Public
Schools in St Louis. He is well known to the
leading students of German philosophy in all the
countries of Europe, and I think I may say in
his own country is recognised as standing in the
front rank of American educators. No other man
has brought so much philosophical insight to the
study of dur public school system. I quote from
Mr Harris’s Report of 1871 a condensed summary
of the results- of this system of joint education as
they have developed themselves under his observa
tion and direction. He says :—
- “ Within the last fifteen years the schools of St Louis have
been remodelled upon the plan of the joint education of the
sexes, and the results have proved so admirable that a few
remarks may be ventured on the experience which they
furnish.
. “ I-—Economy has been secured, for, unless pupils of widely
different attainments are brought together in the same classes,
�Young Men and Women.
15
the separation of the boys and girls requires a great increase
in the number of teachers.
“II.—Discipline has improved continually by the adoption
of joint schools ; our change in St Louis has been so gradual
that we have been able to weigh with great exactness every
point of comparison between the two systems. The joining
of the male and female departments of a school has always
been followed by an improvement in discipline ; not merely
on the part of the boys, but with the girls as well. The rude
ness and abandon which prevails among boys when separate
at once gives place to self-restraint in the presence of girls,
and the sentimentality engendered in girls when educated
apart from boys disappears in these joint schools, and in its
place there comes a dignified self-possession. The few schools
that have given examples of efforts to secure clandestine asso
ciation are those few where there are as yet only girls.
“ HI.—The quality of instruction is improved. Where the
boys and girls are separate, methods of instruction tend to
extremes, that may be called masculine and feminine. Each
needs the other as a counter-check. We find in these joint
schools a prevalent healthy tone which our schools on the
separate system lack—more rapid progress is the conse
quence.
“ IV.—The development of individual character is, as
already indicated, far more sound and healthy. . It has been
found that schools composed exclusively of girls or boys
require a much more strict surveillance on the part of the
teachers. Confined by themselves and shut off from inter
course with society in its normal form, morbid fancies and
interests are developed which this daily association in the
class-room prevents. Here boys and girls test themselves
with each other on an intellectual plane. Each sees the
strength and weakness of the other, and learns to esteem
those qualities that are of true value. Sudden likes, capri
cious fancies, and romantic ideas give way to sober judgments
not easily deceived by mere externals. This is the basis of
the dignified self-possession before alluded to, and it forms a
striking point of contrast between the girls and boys edu
cated in joint schools and those educated in schools exclu
sively for one sex. Our experience in St Louis has been
entirely in favour of the joint education of the sexes, in all
the respects mentioned and in many minor ones.”
�16
Joint Education of
I give Mr Harris’s statement as representative of
the sentiment of those who are engaged in public
school instruction in America. As I said before, in
some of the older cities, where the public schools
were earliest organised, the joint system has been
accepted as yet only partially, and the teachers, who
are only familiar with the separate system, gene
rally prefer it. But a very large proportion of
the public schools of the country are joint schools,
and a still larger proportion of the instructors and
managers of public schools favour the system of
joint education. Mr Harris’s testimony applies to
city schools, when the pupils reside at home.
I now quote to you from another authority, addi
tionally valuable inasmuch as it represents the
results of this system of education upon young men
and women who reside at the school and away from
the guardianship of parents.
In 1868 a meeting was called of all the College
Presidents of the country, to discuss questions
relating to college discipline and instruction. As
Oberlin was the oldest college that had adopted
the system of joint instruction, a strong desire
was felt to secure a critical and comprehensive
statement of the results of the system there. Dr
Fairchild, the present President of Oberlin, was
deputed to make the Report. He had at that
time been connected with Oberlin seven years
as a student and twenty-five years as professor,
and has long had the reputation of being the most
accomplished scholar and acute thinkei' among the
Oberlin professors. His statements may therefore
be accepted as absolute in point of fact, and as
wholly representative of the opinion of those who
have conducted the instruction and discipline at
�Young Men and Women.
!7
Oberlin. But my chief reason for selecting this out
of the accumulated published testimony is that it
.seems to me the best digest of the subject that I
have seen.
Dr Fairchild says :—
“ 1st.—On the point of economy In the higher depart
ments of instruction, where the chief expense is involved,
the. expense is no greater on account of the presence of the
ladies.
“ 2nd.—Convenience to the patrons of the school:—It is a
matter of interest to notice the number of cases where a
brother is followed by a sister, or a sister by a brother. This
is an interesting and prominent feature in our work. Each is
safer in the presence of the other.
“3rd.—The wholesome incitements to study, which the
system affords :—The social influence arising from the consti
tution of our classes operates continuously and upon all.
Each desires for himself the best standing he is capable of,
and there is no lack of motive to exertion. It will be observed,
too, that the stimulus is of the same kind as will operate in
after life. The young man going out into the world does
not leave behind him the forces that have helped him on.
They are the ordinary forces of society.
“ 4th.-—The tendency to good order that we find in the
system :—The ease with which the discipline of so large a
school is conducted has not ceased to be a matter of wonder
to ourselves. More than one thousand students are gathered
from every State in the Union, from every class in society, of
every grade of culture, the great mass of them bent on im
provement, but numbers are sent by anxious friends with the
hope that they may be saved or reclaimed from every evil
tendency. Yet the disorders incident to such gatherings are
essentially unknown among us. Our streets are as quiet
by day and by night as in any other country town. This
result we attribute greatly to the wholesome influence of the
system of joint education. College tricks lose their attrac
tiveness in a community thus constituted. They scarcely
appear among us. We have had no difficulty in reference to
the conduct and manners in the college dining-hall. There is
an entire absence of the irregularities and roughness so often
complained of in the college commons.
“ 5th.—Another manifest advantage is the relation of the
B
�18
Joint Education of
school to the community. A cordial feeling of goodwill and
the absence of that antagonism between town and college
which in general belongs to the history of universities and
colleges. The constitution of the school is so similar to that
of the community that any conflict is unnatural; the usual
provocation seems to be wanting,
“ 6th.—It can hardly be doubted that people educated
under such conditions are kept in harmony with society at
large, and are prepared to appreciate the responsibilities of
life, and to enter upon its work. If we are not utterly de
ceived in our position, our students naturally and readily find
their position in the world, because they have been trained in
sympathy with the world. These are among the advantages
of the system that have forced themselves upon our attention.
The list might be extended and expanded, but you will wish
especially to know whether'we have not encountered disad
vantages and difficulties which more than counterbalance
these advantages.
“ As to the question whether young ladies have the mental
vigour and physical health to maintain a fair standing in a
class with voung men, I must say, where there has been the
same preparatory training, we find no difference in ability to
maintain themselves in the class-room and at the examina
tions. The strong and the weak scholars are equally distri
buted between the sexes.
“ Whether ladies need a course of study especially adapted
to their nature and prospective work ?—The theory of our
school has never been that men and women are alike in
mental constitution, or that they naturally and properly
occupy the same position in their work of life. The educa
tion furnished is general, not professional, designed to fit men
and women for any position or work to which they may pro
perly be called. The womanly nature will appropriate the
material to its own necessities under its own laws.' Young
men and women sit at the same table and parta.ke of the
same food, and we have no apprehension that the vital forces
will fail to elaborate from the common material the osseous,
fibrous, and nervous tissues adapted to each frame and
constitution.
.
<£ Apprehension is felt that character will deteriorate on
the one side or the other,—that young men will become
frivolous or effeminate, and young women coarse and mas
culine.
�Toung Men and Women.
T9
“ That young men should lose their manly attributes and
character from proper association with, cultivated young
women is antecedently improbable and false in fact. It is
the natural atmosphere for the development of the higher
qualities of manhood—magnanimity, generosity, true chivalry,
and earnestness. The animal man is kept subordinate in the
prevalence of these higher qualities.
“We have found it the surest way to make men of boys
and gentlemen of rowdies.
“ On the other hand, will not the young woman, pursuing
her studies with young men, take on their manners, and
aspirations, and aims, and be turned aside from the true ideal
of womanly life and character ? The thing is scarcely con
ceivable. The natural response of woman to the exhibition
of manly traits is in the correlative qualities of gentleness,
delicacy, and grace.
“ It might better be questioned whether, the finer shadings
of woman’s character can be developed without this natural
stimulus ; but it is my duty not to reason, but to speak from
the limited historical view assigned me.
“You wish to know whether the result with us has been a
large accession to the number of coarse, strong-minded women,
in the disagreeable sense of the word; and I say, without
hesitation, that I do not know a single instance of such a
product as the result of our system of education.
“ Is there not danger that young men and young women
thus brought together in the critical period of fife, when the
distinctive social tendencies act with greatest intensity, will
fail of the necessary regulative force, and fall into undesirable
and unprofitable relations ? Will not such association result
in weak and foolish love affairs ? It is not strange that such
apprehension is felt, nor would it be easy to give an a priori
answer to such difficulties ; but if we may judge from our
experience, the difficulties are without foundation. The
danger in this direction results from excited imagination,
from the glowing exaggerations of youthful fancy, and the
best remedy is to displace these fancies by every-day facts
and realities.
“Theyoung man shut out from the society of ladies, with
the help of the high-wrought representations of life which
poets and novelists afford, with only a distant vision of the
reality, is the one who is in danger. The women whom he
sees are glorified by his fancy, and are wrought into his day
�io
Joint Education of
dreams and night dreams as beings of supernatural loveliness.
It would be different if he met them day by day in the class
room, in a common encounter with a mathematical problem,
or at a table sharing in the common want of bread and butter.
There is still room for the fancy to work, but the materials
for the picture are more reliable and enduring. Such associa
tion does not take all the romance out of life, but it gives as
favourable conditions for sensible views and actions upon
these delicate questions as can be afforded to human nature.
“ But is this method adapted to schools in general, or is the
success attained at Oberlin due to peculiar features of the
place, which can rarely be found or reproduced elsewhere,
and can it be introduced into men’s colleges with their tradi
tional customs and habits of action and thought ? Might not
the changes required occasion difficulty at the outset and
peril the experiment ? On this point I have no experience,
but I have such confidence in the inherent vitality and
adaptability of the system that I should be entirely willing to
see it subjected to this test.”
I am sorry not to give you a more lengthened
account of Dr Fairchild’s Report, but the time warns
me to hasten.
Respecting economy, school discipline, social
order, and the improved character of both young
men and young women, and the high scholar
ship attained by young women, you see that Dr
Fairchild’s statement fully corroborates my own
and that of Mr Harris. He agrees with us that
the grade of scholarship of the young men is in no
wise lowered by this joint work, but, on the con
trary, that the average is higher.
To be definite upon this point, my own opinion
is that those marvellous feats of scholarship that
sometimes occur in boys’ schools are not so likely to
occur in a joint school, where a little more of the
domestic and social element is found. On the other
hand, from a long and close observation, I feel fully
justified in saying the average scholarship is higher.
�Young Men and 'Women.
21
There is a more general stimulus for good scholar
ship. The standard of respectability is somewhat
different from what it is in a school exclusively for
boys. A boy may secure the respect of his boy
associates by being an adept on the playground or
generally a good fellow, but as he is known to the
girls only through his class work, he feels more
especially bound to make this creditable.
I should like to accumulate authority upon these
points, but I must ask you to accept my statement
that the opinions I have' given you are those held
by the very large majority of the educators of the
country.
In this system of joint education you see that
the difficulty of getting funds to establish schools
scarcely appears as an obstacle to the higher edu
cation of women. It requires so little more to edu
cate girls along with boys than it does to educate
boys alone, and lack of the masculine incentive to
study is largely supplied to the girls by class
rivalry. The girls like to remain at school, and
they like to do as much work and as good work as
the boys do; and the boys are equally eager to keep
the companionship of the girls, and to keep up the
competition in all the departments of the work.
There is a mutual rivalry which both enjoy, and
the girls work with zest, without thinking whether
there is to be any reward beyond the simple enjoy
ment of their work, without considering whether it
will ever bring them any farther returns.
The work of the girls in the joint schools has
done much to force up the standard in the exclu
sively girls’ schools. These schools could not afford
the disparaging comparison. So the teachers intro
duce the same studies as are found in the joint
�22
Joint Education of
schools, and do the best they can to get as good
work from their girls. But in most of the girls’
schools I have ever visited, the work will not com
pare with the work of girls in the joint schools.
When Dr Fairchild says he does not know a '
single instance in which a coarse, strong-minded
woman, in the disagreeable sense, has been the pro
duct of the Oberlin system of education, it must not
be understood that there have been no women of that
type at Oberlin, for there have been, and Oberlin
lias done much to soften them and refine them,
but it could not wholly change their natures and
previously-acquired habits. Upon this point there
is a pernicious popular delusion, and I am at a loss
to account for its origin. It is not association with
men that developes this type of character. The
reverse of this is the case, as Dr Fairchild has
indicated. It is true that many highly-intellectual
and highly-educated women have been peculiar,
have developed peculiarities or idiosyncrasies of
character or habit which lessened their companion
able and womanly attractiveness, but these women
have generally worked by themselves, away from
society, apart from the companionship of men.
Joint schools are the most complete corrective of
these tendencies. Whatever elevates women in the
eyes of men they are disposed to cultivate in the
presence of men, and whatever elevates men in the
eyes of women they cultivate in the presence of
women. There is little danger of careless toilet
with young women who are constantly meeting
young men; little danger of angular movement, of
unamiable sharpness, of egotism, and pronounced
self-assertion.
The disagreeable women, the women contemp-
�Toung Men and Women.
23
tuously called strong-minded, are women who have
not known a genial social atmosphere. Crotchety
men and crotchety women are the product of isola
tion from society, and formerly women could not
mount the heights of knowledge except in isolation.
The attractive women, the women who seem to have
a genius for womanliness, are the women who have
been much in the society of men,—women at court,
women in political and diplomatic circles, women
who are familiar with the thought and’ experience
of men, women who talk with men and work with
men.
Social intercourse at these joint schools is not of
course left to chance. Girls and boys need and get
as careful attention at school as in their homes.
Usually they enter and leave the school building
by different doors, and indeed meet only when they
are receiving instruction from the teachers, where
they occupy separate forms on different sides of the
room. Among the older pupils, at all times, except
at the lecture hours, the girls usually have their own
rooms and the boys theirs,'and no communication
between them is possible, except as the teachers
choose to grant permission, which is not asked with
out explaining the occasion. The boys do not
appear to care very much to talk to the girls, at
least they would not be willing to have it seen that
they did. At the boarding-schools the young men
and young women usually have their private apart
ments in different buildings, but meet in a common
dining-hall in the building occupied by the young
■ women. Here they arrange themselves as they
like, the size of the company and the presence of
teachers being quite sufficient to exclude objection
able manners. At the times allowed for recreation
�24
.•
Joint Education of
the arrangements are such as to preclude for the
most part opportunities for young men and young
women to meet, though there are very frequent
receptions at .the homes of the professors or at the
general parlours, when they meet as they would at
any ordinary social party. At a few of the smaller
boarding-schools much more freedom, of intercourse
has been allowed, and with very admirable results ;
but this requires great wisdom and care on the part
of the teachers, more than they are generally able
to give in a large school. Where the pupils live at
home no very especial care is required on the part
of the teachers, further than would under any
circumstances be necessary to secure general good
order.
This system of education developes self-reliance
and a sense of responsibility, to such a degree that,
as I quoted from Dr Fairchild, it is a constant sur
prise to see how little direction they need. A good
many times while I was at Antioch College, young
men who had got into disgrace, or had been dis
missed from young men’s colleges, were sent there
to be reclaimed from their bad habits, and it is
surprising what effect this home-like association
had upon them.
I have already mentioned Michigan University
as the best institution that has as yet opened its
doors to women. This was done three years ago.
For ten years the question had been pending before
the trustees. A letter was addressed to Horace
Mann, asking for minute information concerning
the working of Antioch, and seeking counsel in
reference to the advisability of attempting the
tame plan at the Michigan University. Mr Mann
replied, that though he was an ardent advocate
�Toung Men and Women. '
25
of joint education and was satisfied with the
results achieved at Antioch, he should be afraid
to attempt the plan in a large town, where college
residence was not required. This ‘letter settled
the matter for the time. The trustees said:—
“ We cannot, endanger the morality of our students,
and the reputation of our institution, to accommo
date the few women who wish to come. We give
them our sympathy, but can at present do nothing
more.” But every now and then, with the change
of trustees, the question was revived. The men of
this new rich State felt ashamed to do so much less
for their daughters than for their sons, and they
were particularly sensitive to the argument that the
privileges of the institution could be extended to
the young women with almost no increase in the
expenses. Three years ago the opposition found
itself in the minority, and a resolution was passed
admitting women to all the classes of the university.
The dangers Horace Mann feared have not, and
in all probability will not come. Even the young
men, who in anticipation dreaded an invasion of
women into their realm of free-and-easy habits,
now unite in the most cordial approval of the plan.
They find a genial element added to their college
life in place of a chafing restraint.
The first year only one woman came into the
Arts-classes. This bold venturer was the daughter
of a deceased professor, by whom she had been
trained up to a point a good deal in advance of the
requisites for entrance. This enabled her to step at
once into the front rank of the class of two hundred
young men, who had been in the university a year
before her. No sooner was she there than the
dread and anticipated restraint on the part of the
�26
*
'Joint Education of
young men were forgotten, and the most chivalric
feeling sprang up in its place.
For a whole year Miss Stockwell was alone in
the Arts-classes among seven or eight hundred young
men, yet nothing ever occurred to make her feel in
the slightest degree uncomfortable. She took her
B.A. degree last summer as the first Greek scholar
in the university. There are now a hundred young
women or more in the various departments of
the university. The Professor of Civil Engineer
ing has been in the habit of giving to his class
every year a particular mathematical problem,
a sort of pons asinorum, as a test of their
ability. Not once during fifteen years had any
member of the class solved it, though the professor
states that during that time he has propounded it
to fifteen hundred young men. Last year, as usual,
the old problem was again presented to the class.
A Miss White alone, of all the class, brought in the
solution. The best student in the Law school last
year was a woman.
I could tell you many other stories of the suc
cesses of women in these joint schools, but it would
not be safe to conclude from these accounts that the
young women in America are superior to the young
men ; for, as you would naturally suppose, the few
women who at present avail themselves of university
training, in opposition to the popular notion of what
is wise and becoming, are for the most part above
the average of the women of the country. I think
I may say, however, that girls are a little more
likely to lead the classes in the schools than boys
are. They are, perhaps, a little more conscientious
in doing the work assigned them, and have a little
more school ambition.
�Toung Men and Women.
27
I quote the following from the Annual Report of
the Michigan University for the year ending 1872 :—
■ “ In the Medical Department the women receive instruc
tion by themselves. In the other departments all instruction
is given to both sexes in common.
“ It is manifestly not wise to leap to hasty generalisations
from our short experience in furnishing education to both
sexes in our university. But I think all w’ho have been
familiar with the inner life of the university for the past
three years will admit that, thus far, no reason for doubting
the wisdom of the action of the trustees in opening the uni
versity to women has appeared.
“Hardly one of the many embarrassments which some
have feared have confronted us. The young women have
addressed themselves to their work with great zeal, and have
shown themselves quite capable of meeting the demands of
severe studies as successfully as their classmates of the other
sex. Their work, so far, does not evince less variety of apti
tude or less power of grappling even with the higher mathe
matics than we find in the young men. They receive no
favour, and desire none. They are subjected to precisely the
same tests as the men. Nor does their work seem to put a
dangerous strain upon their physical powers. Their absences
by reason of illness do not proportionably exceed those of the
men. Their presence has not called for the enactment of a
single new law, nor for the slightest change in our methods of
government or grade of work.
“If we are asked still to regard the reception of women
into our classes as an experiment, it must certainly be deemed
a most hopeful experiment. The numerous inquiries that
have been sent to us from various parts of this country, and
even from England, concerning the results of their admission
to the university, show that a profound and wide-spread
interest in the subject has been awakened.”
I can say for myself, that I have never known
any one who has spent a few days at one of these
colleges who has not become a convert to the
scheme.
There is in America a strong and constantly
growing conviction, that the best plan for educating
.
�28
"Joint Education of
both boys and girls is for them to reside at home
and attend day schools; that this avoids the defects
attendant upon the system of governesses and
tutors, and also the dangers that are inherent in
the congregated life of boarding-schools; and as
American families seldom leave home for, at most,
more than a few weeks in midsummer, this plan is
easily carried out. In accordance with this con
viction, the citizens of Boston have recently erected
and endowed a large university in the centre of
their city, although the time-honoured Harvard
stands scarcely two miles beyond their precincts.
The Boston University, which starts with larger
available funds than those of Harvard, will be
opened this autumn, and as a second step in the
direction of the popular educational sentiment, the
trustees have decided to offer its advantages and
honours to young women on the same conditions as
to young men.
There is evidently a disposition in America to
open all lines of study to women, and a few women
have entered each of the three learned professions,
but the time is too short and the number too small
for us to be able as yet to generalise upon the fitness
of women for professions, or their inclination to
choose them.
Most of our women—I think I may almost say
all of our women—expect to marry, and most of
them do marry. We have not that redundancy of
women to trouble and puzzle the advocates of
domesticity that you have here; and as fortunes are
more easily made, men are not timid in incurring
domestic responsibilities. As a consequence of this,
the industrial occupations that women seek, other
than domestic, are expected to be only temporary,
�Young Men and Women.
ig
and are such as may be entered upon without
much especial professional training, and may be
given up without involving much sacrifice of pre
vious study or discipline. I think I may say there
is a very general disposition to seek those that will
especially contribute to their fitness for domestic
life.
This brings me to a peculiar feature of American
education—the prevalence of women teachers. In
the public schools of St Louis there are forty men
teachers and over four hundred women teachers;
only about one-twelfth of the whole number are
men, and this I think would be about the general
average for the cities of the north. The primary
schools are taught exclusively by women—most of
the grammar schools have only a man at the head of
them, and in the high schools there is about an
equal number of men and women.
In two of the most successful grammar schools in
St Louis there are only women teachers. Recent
experiments in placing women at the head of several
of the grammar schools in Cleveland, Ohio, give
still stronger confirmation of the marked governing
power of women as contrasted with men.
Women teachers have been employed in the
schools in preference to men as a matter of economy,
but underneath this cloak of economy an unex
pected virtue has been found. It is now pretty
well settled that with equal experience and scholarly
attainments women teach better than men do, and
that they manage the pupils with more tact; that
is, they succeed in getting from the pupils what
they want, with more ease and less disturbance of
temper.
Where women do precisely the, same work as
�jo
Joint Education of
men in teaching, they get less pay. Wages have
followed the law of supply and demand. The guar
dians of the public school treasures have generally
not felt at liberty to offer more than the regular
market prices for work. But I am glad to say the
more enlightened public feeling is beginning to make
a change in this respect. A few women are paid
men’s wages—are paid what they ought to have,
rather than what they could command in an open
market.
Teaching in America, as I have indicated, is for
the most part a temporary occupation ; it is chiefly
done by young people between the ages of eighteen
and thirty who have no intention of making it a
profession. The women marry and the men enter
other occupations. How much the schools lose by
the immaturity and inexperience of the teachers it
is difficult to estimate accurately; but that they
gain much by the freshness and enthusiasm of these
young minds is unquestionable. Young teachers
get into closer sympathy with pupils, and can more
readily understand the movements of their minds
and apprehend their difficulties.
The plan of teaching for a few years is very
popular among young people, from the general
belief that it furnishes the best possible discipline
for a successful life. This experience in teaching is
considered valuable for young men, but still more
valuable for young women, and many young women
who have no need to earn money teach for a few
years .after leaving school, sometimes from their
own choice, but much oftener from the choice of
their parents, who wish to supplement the daughter’s
education with the more varied discipline that
teaching affords.
�Toung Men and Women.
31
Thus the teaching of women is encouraged from
four considerations :—
First. According to the present arrangement of
wages it is economical.
Second. Women seem to have an especial natural
aptitude for the work as compared with men.
Third. The general welfare of society demands
that wage-giving industries shall be provided for
women.
Fourth. Of all the employments offered to women,
teaching seems the best suited to fit them for
domestic life, the life that lies before the most of
them, and so positive are its claims in this direction
that it is being sought as an employment with that
single end in view.
A few years of teaching forms so prominent a
feature in the education of leading American
women, that I could not omit it in any general
consideration of this subject.
Note.—The Times of' January 3rd, 1874, gives the following
extracts from “Circulars of Information,” just published by the
United States Bureau of Education:—The total number of
degrees conferred in 1873 by the Higher Colleges was 4,493, and
376 honorary. One hundred and ninety-one ladies received
degrees. Illinois has thirteen Colleges, in which women have
the same or equal facilities with men ; Wisconsin has four, Iowa
three, Missouri four, Ohio ten, and Indiana nine; New York has
seven, and Pennsylvania, seven.
PRINTED BY C. W. REYNELL, LITTLE PULTENEY STREET, HAYMARKET.
��
Dublin Core
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Title
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Victorian Blogging
Description
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A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
Creator
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Conway Hall Library & Archives
Date
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2018
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
Text
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Pamphlet
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
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The joint education of young men and women in the American schools and colleges : being a lecture delivered before the Sunday Lecture Society, on 27th of April, 1873
Creator
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Beedy, Mary E.
Sunday Lecture Society
Description
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Place of publication: London
Collation: 31 p. ; 18 cm.
Notes: Advertisement for Sunday Lecture Society on p.[2], delivered at St George's Hall, Langham Place. Printed by C.W. Reynell, Haymarket, London. Part of the NSS pamphlet collection.
Publisher
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Sunday Lecture Society
Date
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1873
Identifier
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N058
Subject
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Education
Rights
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<a href="http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /></a><span> </span><br /><span>This work (The joint education of young men and women in the American schools and colleges : being a lecture delivered before the Sunday Lecture Society, on 27th of April, 1873), identified by </span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk"><span>Humanist Library and Archives</span></a><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span>
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application/pdf
Type
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Text
Language
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English
Coeducation-United States
Education
NSS
Women