and a taxing and censorship when Kyrenius was governor of Syria, was not made till several years after the date alleged by Matthew as that of the birth of Christ. We have seen both the narrators meet in the mythic idea of their old nation that the Messiah must be born in "Bethlehem of Judah ;" and that they thus bring him, in the legendary spirit, to Bethlehem. No sooner have they agreed in naming the mythic place of his birth, however, than we see them diverge again, with the true characteristics of the legendary spirit. Luke introduces a chorus of angels chaunting the advent of the Messiah to shepherds, who go and visit the child, and spread abroad what they have seen, praising and glorifying God; the child is circumcised, and the days of purification (40) are fulfilled, and Simeon and Anna publicly testify to the child's Messiahship in the temple ;-and, 'when all things are fulfilled,' its parents go down quietly to reside at Nazareth, coming up to the annual feasts; and we hear no more expressly about the Divinely-begotten child until he discourses with the doctors at twelve years old. Luke's mythical idea we saw was that the Messiah must fulfil the whole law from a child-and his legend is worked out in perfect fidelity to that idea.

But we saw that Matthew was guided by another set of Myths-these being so plentiful in the old literature of his nation, and the tendency of his people being so strong to form secondary senses of the old writings, that they made passages to bear upon the Messiah which a nation living out of their class of ideas could not have thought of applying to him. The angels talked of in Luke, and all the spreading abroad of the good news by the shepherds, although Bethlehem was not three hours' distant from Jerusalem,-had not carried the news of the Messiah's appearance to Jerusalem, inasmuch as, by Matthew's account, the Magi's enquiry caused Herod the king to be "troubled, and all Jerusalem with him," and after assembling his counsellors, and obtaining from them a guess from prophecy that the search must be made in Bethlehem, he had to direct the Magi to "go and search diligently for the young child." The miraculous star that went and "stood over where the young child was"-the Massacre of the Innocents-the Flight into Egyptthe Return, and successive Divine warnings-until the going down to dwell at Nazareth, which city Matthew had never mentioned before-were utterly adverse to Luke's story, and had their origin in another set of mythical ideas.

We were so far from calling these contrary accounts the records of plenary inspiration,' that we saw,-both by their structure, and the forced and inapplicable texts from the Old Testament brought to support them,-that they were plainly and palpably legendary, and deserving of no more credit as facts, than the fables of King Arthur and Merlin the Prophet.

At a second stage of our enquiry, we were again compelled to reject as legendary much that seemed to be related for fact-such as the descent of the Divine spirit in the form of a dove at the Baptism-the heavenly voice--the testimony of John the Baptist to the Messiahship of Jesus-and the wildly imaginative story of the Temptation by the Devil.

We thus enter on the third, and more important series of investigation, with no encouragement to expect an absence of legend. Yet, for the Miracles' related to have been performed by Christ, we have an incontestable right to demand the clearest historic evidence. It is affirmed and held to be a sacred truth in the land of our birth, that the truth of the Redeemer's Divine mission rests upon them. The 'Miracles' are, therefore, the bulwarks of orthodox belief, and should be impregnable to fair criticism. A sense of their im portance, according to the shewing of orthodox divines themselves, must compel us to examine these accounts of supernatural events with a strictness we

should scarcely feel it necessary to apply to any other relations ever made by man. At every step, Reason must demand-Who are the witnesses? What is their warrant for credibility? What is the accordance of their testimony? If the Gospel records give an unsatisfactory answer to these rational, fair, and honest questions-who will dare to say that rational, fair, and honest enquirers ought to receive present censure and everlasting punishment, as a consequence of rejecting what to them is not proved? Whatever may be the result of our enquiry and, from the diversity of minds it cannot be expected to be alike in all-let us, however, enter on this examination rationally, fairly, and honestly. And, for the advantage of order and distinctness, let us, first, examine that class of miracles in which Jesus is described as operating supernaturally upon human beings. Following the classification of Strauss, these will be-1. Demoniacs; 2. Lepers; 3. The Blind; 4. Paralytics; 5. Involuntary cures; 6. Cures at a distance; 7. Cures on the Sabbath; 8. Resuscitations of the Dead. The remaining Miracles' will be of a mixed character: 1. Those relating to the Sea; 2. The multiplication of the loaves and fishes; 3. The turning of the water into wine; 4. The cursing of the barren fig-tree. (To be continued in next number.)

Reviews.

Educational Economy; or State Education Vindicated from the Objections of the Votaries of Voluntaryism. By THOMAS EMERY.

Prize Essay: The Causes of Crime; its Prevention and Punishment.

the same Author.

By

I BEG to recommend the perusal of these essays-the production of the promising young thinker mentioned in the notice of the Prize Essay last week-to all thoughtful working men. The treatise on 'State Education,' is, to my mind, most unanswerable. I shall make no extracts from it-for it ought to be read entire. The following passages from the "Causes of Crime" will give my readers an additional taste of our author's quality :— "Some parties ascribe the commission of crime to the recklessness and improvidence of criminals. What is crime under such circumstances but the manifestation of anxiety to provide for wants, either real or fictitious, in an ignorant and unprincipled manner? Others in going a step further assert that recklessness, improvidence, and crime are only other manifestations of that depreciated self-respect and indifference to public good, engendered by bad national government and the deprivation of political and social rights. And what is bad government, but palpable, self-imputative evidence against the assumed 'collective wisdom' of a country? and what is political and social serfdom, but proof positive of the absence of that mental stamina which, if possessed, would assert its own dignity, and morally enforce its own claims. Another class of reformers assume that indifference to public good, loss of self-respect, recklessness, improvidence, and criminality, are mainly attributable to the drinking customs of society; whereas, drunkenness is a secondary evil, arising from a mistaken method of obtaining pleasurable excitement. Look at the subject of crime from whatever point we may, we shall find it resolvable into some mental aberration, moral deficiency, or individual incompetency-in fact, we shall be led to the conclusion that, 'ignorance is the parent of crime.'

"In asserting that ignorance is the primary cause of crime, I mean not merely an ignorance of the rudiments of education, but an incapacity to appreciate the true interest of humanityan unacquaintance with the philosophy of every-day life."

"The punishment of crime is a subject of considerable difficulty. Various opinions prevail upon the purposes and utility of punishment. Punishment is an appeal to the fears of the individual through the infliction of pain. It most probably first arose from the blind desire of an injured party to cause his antagonist to feel the same pain he had inflicted. But punishment in this sense is absurd, for supposing it possible that such antagonist could experience precisely the same pain, how could the punishment thus inflicted affect or alter the pain

previously experienced by such injured party? If the punishment of an antagonist is not the result of a desire to deter him or others from like conduct, we may call it the satisfaction of justice,' but it is nothing more nor less than revenge. Punishment abstractedly considered is an absurdity. Strictly speaking, mere punishment cannot be justly included in judicial tactics. If punishment has no intelligent reference to consequences, it is a barbarous infliction of injustice; and the infliction of injustice, in any degree, and by any authority, will not be barren of injurious results. Punishment is a miserable substitute for reason. It is too immediate and summary in its operations. It deals with the last manifestation of conduct, and separates such conduct from all antecedents. Punishment too often disregards consequences, and, in the mind of the inflicter, it ends where it began, in a revengeful feeling. The child beats the table which has bruised its head-the plebeian satisfies his measure of justice by a pugilistic encounter-the 'gentleman of honour' seeks mortal combat-and government, finding it incompatible with anything approaching to order to allow these 'justice' satisfying proceedings to be carried on individually, takes upon itself the wholesale disposition of differences. And what reason does government give for the punishment it inflicts, apart from the evidence of its superior power to inflict such punishment? What does government prove itself in the conduct of this business more than a Fighter-General, a champion of physical force for society?"

"Discussions upon mere prison discipline are only attempts to shift the difficulty-not to remove it. Our course, for the present, should be in another direction. The prime energies All of society should now be directed to the prevention of crime by educational measures. available means should be employed to discipline the rising generation in intelligence and virtue. I know it may be objected that the effects of such efforts are remote from realization. Is not this a characteristic of all important and permanent improvements? Is there a shorter cut to the good time' of virtue and happiness than by the steady march of mind? If reform by education is slow and distant, demonstrate the ameliorative means which are quicker and surer? What plan or project is there susceptible of general adoption, which ignores intelligence as a condition of our progress, and which repudiates reason as the arbiter of our moral, social, and political destiny? Those who repine at the remoteness of prospect should look at the inevitableness of the question. There is no escape from the evils of crime, but by the enlightenment of the masses; and the public enlightenment can only be accomplished by time, appliance, and perseverance, Small strokes fell great oaks,' and 'a grain of wisdom is worth a ton of folly.' I say again-diffuse knowledge-promote education-extirpate that monster-evil, ignorance; and crime, with a train of intermediate, causative evils-recklessness, drunkenness, improvidence, poverty, political and social injustice-will be immensely diminished, progress will be accelerated, and an advanced state of civilization attained; in which the rare victim of criminality will receive other treatment than vindictive violence, and sanguinary execution."

The Working Man's Journal, and Free Enquirer.

THIS is a weekly penny periodical, published in the Staffordshire Potteries; and has now reached its 32nd number. Many of the articles are interesting chiefly to local readers; and the wrongs under which the working men of the great Pottery district frequently labour are fearlessly dragged to light, and shewn up by the writers in this spirited paper. But several of the articles are of general interest, and are also ably written-such as those entitled "Workshop Education"-" Knowledge"-"Self-Government"-" Government and Governors;" as well as the papers by Benjamin Glover, Veritas, Anti-Bullion, Cannon, and others.

The spreading intelligence in this district must be indubitably proved to the oppressors resident in it, by the publication of this working man's Let paper-for it is conducted and supported solely by working men. other districts learn a lesson by their example! Why should not every populous locality have its own weekly periodical, conducted and supported on the same principles, and by the same means?

Eastern Life, Present and Past. By HARRIET MARTINEAU. THE enlightened Committee of the Mechanics' Institute, in the wise town of Burton-on-Trent, have burnt this book, for its immorality! Of course, these Men of Gotham will help the sale of the work. 'Immorality,' in their

vocabulary, simply means heterodoxy. Miss Martineau's vigorous mind cannot receive the contradiction contained in the doctrine of the Trinity, or the legend of the Incarnation, for fact: she sees, in old Egypt, the source of these, and other mythical parts of the orthodox creed of Christendom, -and speaks out her thoughts! Let all lovers of Truth honour her for it; and let the sapient Burtonians do their little, auto-da-fé after their own pious way, poor things!

Passing by much stirring description of the country, the first deeply reflective piece of thought we have in the book, discovers to us the source of the Egyptian doctrines of the Good Power and the Evil; and how they have pervaded the creeds of other nations. Few modern books contain thoughts so valuable to the determined seeker after Truth, or so nobly expressed :-

"If I were to have the choice of a fairy gift, it should be like none of the many things I fixed upon in my childhood, in readiness for such an occasion. It should be for a great winnowing fan, such as would, without injury to human eyes and lungs, blow away the sand which buries the monuments of Egypt. What a scene would be laid open then! One statue and sarcophagus, brought from Memphis, was buried one hundred and thirty feet below the mound surface. Who knows but that the greater part of old Memphis, and of other glorious cities, lies almost unharmed under the sand! Who can say what armies of sphinxes, what sentinels of colossi, might start upon the banks of the river, or come forth from the hill sides of the interior, when the cloud of sand had been wafted away! The ruins which we now go to study might then appear occupying only eminences, while below might be ranges of pylons, miles of colonnade, temples intact, and gods and goddesses safe in their sanctuaries. What quays along the Nile, and the banks of forgotten canals! What terraces, and flights of wide shallow steps! What architectural stages might we not find for a thousand miles along the river, where now the orange sands lie so smooth and light as to show the track,-the clear foot print-of every beetle that comes out to bask in the sun!-But it is better as it is. If we could once blow away the sand, to discover the temples and palaces, we should next want to rend the rocks to lay open the tombs: and heaven knows what this would set us wishing further. It is best as it is; for the time has not come for the full discovery of the treasures of Egypt. It is best as it is. The sand is a fine means of preservation; and the present inhabitants perpetuate enough of the names to serve for guidance when the day for exploration shall come. The minds of scholars are preparing for an intelligent interpretation of what a future age may find: and science, chemical and mechanical, will probably supply such means hereafter as we have not now, for treating and removing the sand when its conservative office has lasted long enough. We are not worthy yet of this great unveiling: and the inhabitants are not, from their ignorance, trustworthy as spectators. It is better that the world should wait, if only care be taken that the memory of no site now known be lost. True as I feel it to be that we had better wait, I was for ever catching myself in a speculation, not only on the buried treasures of the mounds on shore, but on means for managing this obstinate sand.

And yet, vexatious as is its presence in many a daily scene, this sand has a bright side to its character,-like everything else. Besides its great office of preserving unharmed for a future age the records of the oldest times known to man, the sand of the desert has, for many thousand years, shared equally with the Nile the function of determining the character and the destiny of a whole people, who have again operated powerfully on the characters and destiny of other nations. Everywhere, the minds and fortunes of human races are mainly determined by the characteristics of the soil on which they are born and reared. In our own small island, there are, as it were, three tribes of people, whose lives are much determined still, in spite of all modern facilities for intercourse, by the circumstance of their being born and reared on the mineral strip to the west,-the pastoral strip in the middle,-or the eastern agricultural portion. The Welsh and Cornwall miners are as widely different from the Lincolnshire or Kentish husbandmen, and the Leicestershire herdsmen as Englishmen can be from Englishmen. Not only their physical training is different; their intellectual faculties are differently exercised, and their moral ideas and habits vary accordingly. So it is in every country where there is a diversity of geological formation: and nowhere is the original constitution of their earth so strikingly influential on the character of its inhabitants as in Egypt. There everything depends-life itself, and all that it includes-on the state of the unintermitting conflict between the Nile and the Desert. The world has seen many struggles; but no other so pertinacious, so perdurable, and so sublime as the conflict of these two great powers. The Nile, ever young because perpetually renewing its youth, appears to the inexperienced eye to have no chance, with its stripling force, against the great old Goliath, the

Desert, whose might has never relaxed, from the earliest days till now; but the giant has not conquered yet. Now and then he has prevailed for a season; and the tremblers whose destiny hung on the event have cried out that all was over: but he has once more been driven back, and Nilus has risen up again, to do what we see him doing in the sculptures,-bind up his water-plants about the throne of Egypt. These fluctuations of superiority have produced extraordinary effects on the people for the time: but these are not the forming and training influences which I am thinking of now. It is true that when Nile gains too great an accession of strength, and runs in destructively upon the Desert, men are in despair at seeing their villages swept away, and that torrents come spouting out from the sacred tombs in the mountain, as the fearful clouds of the sky come down to aid the river of the valley. It is true that in the opposite case, they tremble when the heavens are alive with meteors, and the Nile is too weak to rise and meet the sand columns that come marching on, followed by blinding clouds of the enemy: and that famine is then inevitable, bringing with it the moral curses which attend upon hunger. It is true that at such times strangers have seen (as we know from Abdallatif, himself an eye-witness) how little children are made food of, and even men slaughtered for meat, like cattle. It is true that such have been the violent effects produced on men's conduct by extremity here;-effects much like what are produced by extremity everywhere. It is not of this that I am thinking when regarding the influence on a nation of the incessant struggle between the Nile and the Desert. It is of the formation of their ideas and habits, and the training of their desires.

From the beginning, the people of Egypt have had everything to hope from the river, nothing from the desert; much to fear from the desert, and little from the river. What their Fear may reasonably be, any one may know who looks upon a hillocky expanse of sand, where the little jerboa burrows, and the hyæna prowls at night. Under these hillocks lie temples and palaces, and under the level sands, a whole city. The enemy has come in from behind, and stifled and buried it. What is the Hope of the people from the river, any one may witness who, at the regular season, sees the people grouped on the eminences, watching the advancing waters, and listening for the voice of the crier, or the boom of the cannon which is to tell the prospect or event of the inundation of the year. Who can estimate the effect on a nation's mind and a character of a perpetual vigilance against the desert; (see what it is in Holland of a similar vigilance against the sea!) and of an annual mood of Hope in regard to the Nile? Who cannot see what a stimulating and enlivening influence this periodical anxiety and relief must exercise on the character of a nation? And then, there is the effect on their ideas. The Nile was naturally deified by the old inhabitants. It was a god to the mass; and at least one of the manifestations of deity to the priestly class. As it was the immediate cause of all they had, and all they hoped for,-the creative power regularly at work before their eyes, usually conquering, though occasionally checked, it was to them the Good Power; and the Desert was the Evil one. Hence came a main part of their faith, embodied in the allegory of the burial of Osiris in the sacred stream, whence he rose, once a year, to scatter blessings over the earth.-Then, the structure of their country originated or modified their ideas of death and life. As to the disposal of their dead;-they could not dream of consigning their dead to the waters, which were too sacred to receive any meaner body than the incorruptible one of Osiris: nor must any other be placed within reach of its waters, or in the way of the pure production of the valley. There were the boundary rocks, with the hints afforded by their caves. These became sacred to the dead. After the accumulation of a few generations of corpses, it became clear how much more extensive was the world of the dead than that of the living and as the proportion of the living to the dead became, before men's eyes, smaller and smaller, the state of the dead became a subject of proportionate importance to them, till their faith and practice grew into what we see them in the records of the temples and tombs, -engrossed with the idea of death and in preparation for it. The unseen world became all in all to them; and the visible world and present life of little more importance than as the necessary introduction to the higher and greater. The imagery before their eyes perpetually, sustained these modes of thought. Everywhere they had in presence the symbols of the worlds of death and life;-the limited scene of production, activity and change;-the valley with its verdure, its floods, and its busy multitudes, who were all incessantly passing away, to be succeeded by their like; while, as a boundary to this scene of life, lay the region of death, to their view unlimited, and everlastingly silent to the human ear.-Their imagery of death was wholly suggested by the scenery of their abode. Our reception of this is much injured by our having been familiarised with it first through the ignorant and vulgarised Greek adoption of it, in their imagery of Charon, Styx, Cerberus and Rhadamanthus: but if we can forget these, and look upon the older records with fresh eyes, it is inexpressibly interesting to contemplate the symbolical representations of death by the oldest of the Egyptians, before Greek or Persian was heard of in the world; the passage of the dead across the river or lake of the valley, attended by the Conductor of souls e god Aunbis; the formidable dog, the guardian of the mansion of Osiris, (or the divine