coincidence, between the two historians, must be ascribed to the existence of some ancient traditions in Phoenicia.

I

Hence we consider, that the writers, who explain this fragment by Scripture, have wasted much unnecessary learning, in supporting an objectionable system, Being biassed by particular studies, they have sacrificed truth and consistency, in maintaining preconceived opinions. At different times, as it suita their purpose, Sanchoniatho is made to follow Moses, the traditions of his country, or is inextricably involved in mystery and fable. To remove the difficulties resulting from such different modes of explanation, characters as opposite as the elements are made to agree, with scarcely an imaginary resemblance. Else how is it possible, that Fourmont could boldly assert the identity of Saturn and Abraham, on the supposition alone, that Saturn's sacrifice of his son to Uranus was Abraham's sacrifice of Isaac, and his circumcision the circumcision of the patriarchal family? Our scepticism, we confess, is too great to be removed by such chimerical resemblances; for before we admit an identity of person, we must be satisfied of some identity of character. Who therefore can believe, that a rebel and a parricide, the invader and robber of his father's kingdom, a monster, whose crimes were scarcely equalled by the human sacrifices at his altar, is the same person with Abraham, the peaceable stranger in the land of Canaan? But when we are required,

O rem ridiculam, Cato, et jocosam!

to recognise the haughty and vindictive Juno in the gentle Rebecca, the lewd features of Astarte, the Phoenician Venus, in the modest and amiable Rachel,3 we suspect that madness is too frequently the effect of learning. The folly of the Jesuit, who gravely concluded, that the Americans were descended from the Greeks, because they danced at their festivals, is nothing to the audacity of Fourmont, in deducing the Phoenician gods from the family of Abraham. The most trivial circumstance is sufficient to establish an identity; and conclusions are urged with such disregard of probability, that if the principle on which they are founded is admitted, we may expect to find in some future mythologist, that an assumption to heaven identifies Elijah and Romulus.

But as we have objected to the systems of Cumberland and Fourmont, it is necessary, before we conclude, to recommend a different method of explaining the Phoenician and Chaldæan

Fourmont, Reflex. Crit. &c. lib. ii. * Id. tom. i. p. 97.

p.

67.

3. Id. tom. i. p. 160.

cosmogonies. If this method affords no scope for ingenuity and learning, it neither assumes too much, nor proposes an objectionable hypothesis. In most cases, however, it will prove successful in developing the fables, whose origin must be sought in the corruption of primitive traditions. We would, therefore, explain these ancient cosmogonies, partly as physical, and partly as historical fables. As historical fables, they contain some truth intermixed with falsehood. In rejecting the falsehood, we must carefully preserve the events, with which the truth is connected for when these events are known, it is easy to account for the allusions to the operations of nature interwoven with historical facts. Having separated the allusions to the operations of nature, i. e. the physical explanations of the author, from the historical facts, we must next determine, whether the former are real or allegorical. If real, they are simply the philosophical notions of the author; and if allegorical, the agents, unless a divine power is clearly implied, must be resolved into the active and passive causes of nature.

The application of these principles to Sanchoniatho's cosmogony will prove, that its value, as collateral testimony to the truth of Scripture, is comparatively insignificant. For if we subject it to a close analysis, we shall find, that the historical facts are few, or involved in fable. The beginning of the world, for instance, and the existence of animals devoid of feeling or intelligence before the production of man, are truths derived from the primitive traditions preserved by Moses. The latter event, in the book of Genesis, immediately precedes the creation of man: "And God made the beast of the earth after his kind, and every thing that creepeth on the earth after his kind." Accordingly, the creation of man may be alluded to under the production of Zophasemin, or observers of heaven. Hence we are inclined to think that the history of Æon and Protogonus, who were begotten by the wind Colpias, is another, but more accurate tradition; and consequently, Sanchoniatho, being ignorant of the relation of these two traditions to each other, has recorded them as distinct and unconnected events.

But if the traditions are few and obscure, the physical explanations of Sanchoniatho will enable us to judge with certainty of the state of philosophy in Phoenicia for being real and not allegorical, they prove, that the Phoenicians were ignorant of a supreme intellectual governor of the world. The final cause, in their opinion, was love, or that property in nature, by which the generation of plants and animals was begun and continued. A wind of infinite duration and extent, being excited by this

first cause, produced desire, i. e. a disposition in matter to generate. Hence the active causes in the production of nature were love, wind, and a disposition in matter to generate. The passive cause on the other hand was a chaos, also of infinite duration and extent; consequently, the Phoenicians maintained the eternity of matter. The joint influence of wind, and a disposition in matter to generate, having caused the harder and softer substances to unite, the chaos became a liquid mass, to which the world and all its creatures owe their production. Hence, as a presiding reason is excluded in the formation of the world, the present system of nature resulted from a combination of qualities accidentally distributed in matter, but influenced by an inherent disposition to generate. If, therefore, this interpretation is correct, it is difficult to conceive how authors of distinguished learning could infer from this cosmogony, that the knowledge of the true God' was not extinct among the Phoenicians. For our part, we can find no grounds for this conclusion, when the superstitions of this idolatrous people are impartially examined. But as this inquiry would lead us into a dissertation of unusual length, we shall endeavour to prove in some future Number, that the worship of the true God was extinguished among ancient nations; and but for its miraculous preservation among the Jews, it must have remained so, in spite of the utmost efforts of human reason.

BIBLIOTHECA SUSSEXIANA; a Descriptive Catalogue, accompanied by Historical and Biographical Notices, of the Manuscripts and Printed Books contained in the Library of H. R. H. the DUKE OF SUSSEX, in Kensington Palace. By T. J. PETTIGREW, F.R.S., F.L.S., F.A.S., &c. &c. &c. Vol. 1. Parts 1. and II. Imperial 8vo. and Royal 4to. London, Longman.

THE reigning taste for library-making, now cultivated with so much emulation amongst our higher orders, has undoubtedly its weak side; and collectors must always expect to encounter a

Meiners, Hist. Doctr. de vero Deo, p. 63 sq.

not undeserved ridicule, while they dwell with childish ecstasies on uncut leaves, large paper copies, wide margins, and even the precious blunders that stamp a factitious value on some unique or rare, but otherwise worthless book. With all their foibles, however, they are at the same time effecting a great and a permanent good, which will redeem the character of their pursuit in the estimation of the liberal and the wise. We do not refer solely to the encouragement which literature in general derives from their patronage, or to the credit and high repute into which learning is brought by their example. Even these, the perhaps too fugitive results of a mutable and uncertain caprice, are still not to be despised; and as the luxury is both too costly and too refined ever to descend to the vulgar, or rather as it may be said to devulgarise all that it touches, it will probably retain its vogue beyond the brief term of a mere fashionable whim, and long constitute one of the most honorable distinctions of wealth and rank. But our view of the benefit accruing from it extends beyond the contracted horizon of the present. We look forward to the effects of the impulse thus given to a long inert and useless mass; we discern the remote consequences of the keen and active search which is now going forward amongst hitherto concealed stores of early manuscripts; we anticipate the use that will be made of the as yet much neglected fruits of foreign study; we foresee the eventual diffusion of that knowlege which time will extract from the hidden sources of information thus laid open; and we calculate on the effectual assistance which will be afforded to inquiring minds in their fearless pursuit and patient development of historic truth. This subject is at the present moment so highly important and interesting, that a few remarks on it may be not inappropriately introduced here, to preface our examination of the Catalogue, in which Mr. Pettigrew has described a part of that valuable and truly princely library, formed by His Royal Highness the Duke of Sussex.

That the world is beginning to be conscious of having long taken too much for granted, on the authority of those who have pretended to be its instructors, is a truth which every day renders more clearly apparent. It is almost impossible to fix on a portion of ancient history, which, when thoroughly investigated, we can satisfactorily declare that we believe in the form in which it has been transmitted to us. Even those events which we have been accustomed to regard as most indubitable, have been so disguised by fable, and so colored either by national pride or party prejudice, that, without the nicest discrimination,

their genuine and undistorted features can never be ascertained. The modern teachers of mankind have given the name of classics to a certain set of old books, which they have agreed to exalt as standards of perfect excellence; they have made them the basis of all knowlege, and the mere ability to read them the sum of a good education. Erroneous as many of the statements in these works must necessarily be from their very nature, and questionable as they are rendered, either by the circumstances under which they were originally drawn up, or by the manner in which they have been handed down to later times, still they have been generally admitted, not only without hesitation, but even with religious acquiescence, as credible and trustworthy records. So much indeed has this been looked on as matter of course, that rarely has there been found a preceptor who deemed it necessary to point out to his disciples the fallacies, the incongruities, and the contradictions of the narratives which he placed in their hands. Critical inquiry into the facts detailed was held to be superfluous; the active fancy and ardent enthusiasm of youth were left to expatiate among them, undirected and unrestrained: a classical quotation, like a text of holy writ, confirmed, elucidated, sanctioned, every thing; and if at any time philosophical reflections were indulged, implicit faith in the transactions described was the preliminary ground on which they invariably proceeded. Religion alone could set bounds to this credulity: no manifestations of supernatural power could be admitted ever to have taken place, without weakening the authority and the basis of the Christian church. Hence arose an obvious necessity for subverting the authority of the miracles of heathenism, or at least for giving the character of natural occurrences to all the legendary exploits of its deified heroes and immortal gods. Yet so powerfully has the force of habit or the influence of education prevailed in some minds, that there have not been wanting instances of Christian writers, who are still regarded as learned men and eminent divines, who have gravely argued for the truth of some even of these miracles, and have maintained that on such occasions the Supreme Being has actually interfered, in order to vindicate, for the sake of true religion, even the violated sanctity of pagan rites.1 With this exception, the evidence of classical

A remarkable assertion of this doctrine closes Dr. Prideaux's account of the destruction of the Gauls who attacked the Delphian temple. "Thus was God pleased," he says, "in a very extraordinary manner, to execute his vengeance on these sacrilegious wretches for the sake of religion in general; how false and idolatrous soever that