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ELEMENTS 

OF  TU£ 

fcRITIGAL    PHILOSOPHY 

CbNtAlNlNa 

A  CONCISE  ACCOUNT    OF   ITS    ORIGIN  AND  TENDENCY  J 
A  VIEW    OF    ALL   THE    WORKS  PUBLISHED  BT  ITS  FOUNDER, 

PROFESSOR  IMMANUEL  KANT; 

AND  A  GLOSSART  FOR  THE  EXPLANATION  OF  TERMS  AND  PHRASES^ 


TO  WHICH  ARE  ADDED  *. 

THREE  PHILOLOGICAL   ESSAYS; 

Chiefly  tranflated  from  the  German  of 
John  Christopher  Aceluno  } 

Ablic  Counfellor  and  Firft  Librarian  to  the  Ekiflor  of  Saxony. 

A.  F.  M.  WILLI  CH,  M.  D. 


LONDON: 

pRiNTiD  FOR  T.  N.  LONGMAN, 
No.  39.  Paternoster-Row. 

1798* 


OBntereb  in  ©tationerjer  !|>afl. 


b 

To 


The  Ri^Kt  Honourable 
SIR  WILLIAM  MILLER  of  Glenlee,  Bart. 
One  of  the  Senators  of  the 
,     College  of  Jufticc 
}n  Scotland  ; 


T<^ 


To   • 

The  REV.  JAMES  FINLAYSON,  F.  R.  S.  ?. 

Prof,  of  Logic  and  Metaphylks 
in  th^  Univerfity  of  Edinburgh  ; 

And 
fhe  REV.    JAMES   MILNE, 

ProfeQbr  of  Moral  Philofophy 
in  the  Univerfity  of  Glafgow  ; 
Thefe  Elements 

are 
very  refpedlfully  infcrihcd 

Their  moft  obliged  and  humble  Servai* 

Itie  AUTHOR  and  TRANSLATOR. 


P    R    E    F    A    C    £l 


HE  talk  of  writing  prefaces  is  none  of  the  mof^ 
grateful ;  efpecially  when  a  variety  of  circumftances  con- 
cur, to  impofe  it  as  a  duty  upon  one,  who  is  in  a  man- 
ner, partly  the  author,  and  partly  the  franflator  of  a 
new  work,  on  a  new  fubjeft. 

It  has  now  become  the  frequent  pradice  of  certain 
ttanflators,  to  iffue  their  mangled  produftions  into  the 
world  as  their  own  manufacture  ;  though,  upon  com- 
parifon,  they  do  not  even  deferve  the  charadler  of  being 
accurate  tranflations  from  the  German  j  a  language, 
with  which  our  modern  tranflators,  in  general,  are  but 
very  imperfedly  acquainted. 

To  obviate  a  charge  of  this  nature,  and  to  acknow- 
ledge my  obligations  to  thofe  meritorious  friends  of 
literature  in  Germany,  from  whofe  labours  I  have  de- 
rived very  confiderable  affiftance  in  the  compofition  of 
this  work,  I  mull  mention,  in  the  firfl  place,  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Staeudlin,  Professor  of  Divinity  at  Goet- 
TiNGEN.  His  claflical  performance,  "  On  the  Spirit  and 
Hi/iory  of  Scepticifm,  in  two  Volumes,  odavo,  1794/'  has 
afforded  me  the  materials  of  the  '  Hi-storical  Intro-^ 
dUction/— In  reliance  upon  a  charader  of  fo  much 

worth 


k  PREFACE. 

worth  and  eminence,  as  that  of  Dr.  Staeudlin,  I  have  not 
hefitated,  pp.  23  and  24,  to  record,  with  due  praife  and 
refpecl,  a  work  written  by  Mr.  Adam  Weishaupt. 
Without  entering  upon  an  inquiry  into  Mr.  Weishaupt*s 
tnoral  chara^er,  I  can  fafely  aver;  that  his  literary  works 
have  been  received,  upon  the  Continent,  with  almoft  uni- 
verfal  approbation.  In  this  aflertion,  I  am  fupported  by 
the  Condudors  of  the  firft  German  Reviews  in  gene- 
ral, and  particularly  by  the  refpe£lable  evidence  of  Prof. 
Staeudlin  himfelf,  as  well  as  by  that  of  the  celebrated  Prof. 
Eberhard  of  Halle;  both  of  whom  have  ranked  Mr. 
"Weishaupt*s  writings  ampng  the  firft  philofophical  com- 
pbfitions  of  Germany.  And  as  he  has  lately  publiflied 
the  third  volunie  of  his  work  '*  On  Truth  and  Motal 
Perfection;  Regensburg,  1796;"  as  likewife  another 
work  entitled^  '*  On  the  fecret  Art  of  Governing; 
Frankfort  on  the  Main,  1795  ;"  I  muft  leave  Mr  Weis- 
haupt to  defend  his  private  chara£ler  in  Britain,  as  well 
as  he  has  done  it  to  the  fatisfa£tion  of  his  learned  friends 
in  Germany. 

For  the  concifenefs  of  the  '  Synopsis,*  which  con- 
tains  the  ftatement  and  general  folution  of  Five  connected 
Problems,  I  need  niake  no  apology ;  as  the  terms  oc- 
curring in  this  part  of  the  '  Elements*  are,  I  hope,  fuf- 
ficietjtly  explained  in  the  Glossary.  Without  this  expe- 
dient, I  rtvight  have  extended  the  Synopfis  alone  to  a 
length,  far  exceeding  the  whole  of  the  prefent  work. 

In  the '  Chronological  Analysis,'  perhaps,  I  have 
been  in  fomfe  parts  too  prolix,  while  others  might  have 

beent 


J>  R  E  F  A  C  i.  in 

been  enlarged   upon  with  Advantage.     But  it  is  not  an 
eafy  mattet  to  keep  within  proper  bounds,  in  the  difcuf- 
fion  of  abftrad  metaphyfical  fubjeds.     Nor  dare  I  flatter 
myfelf,  that  I  am  fufficiently  acquainted  with  the  idiom 
of  the  Englifli  language,  to  exhibit  the  moft  abftrufe  in- 
quiries of  the  human  mind,  in  a  luminous  point  of  view. 
In  this  refped,  1  can  offer   no  better  apology  than  that 
given  by  my  great  mafter,  whofe  own  words  I  have 
quoted  in  page  9.  of  the  Introduction. — Altholigh  I  had 
the  good   fortune  to  attend  Prof.  Kant's   Ledtures  be^ 
tween  the  years  1778  and  1781,  during  my  refidence  at 
the  Univerfity  of  Koenigfberg ;  and  again  heard  feveral 
of  his  Ledures  in  furamer  1792,  when  Irevifited  my  na- 
tive country ;  yet  I  muft  confefs,  that  my  other   profef- 
fional  labours  have  not  permitted  me  to  devote,  to  the 
ftudy  of  the  Critical  Syilem  of  Philofophy,  that  portion 
of  time  and  clofe  application,  which,  in  more  favourable 
circumftances,  I  fhould  have  been  happy  to  beflow  upon 
this  important  branch  of  human  knowledge. 

Relying,  howev^,  on  the  candour  and  impartiality' of 
the  learned  in  this  country,  I  truft  they  will  not  decide 
upon  a  work  offo  comprehenfive  a  nature  as  the  prefent, 
from  partial  views ;  nor  do  I  entertain  the  lead  appre- 
henfion,  that  they  will  be  deterred  from  a  thorough  exa- 
mination of  it,  by  any  paradoxical  pofitions,  or  eVen  appa- 
rent  contradidions,  that  may  occur  in  the^r/l  perufal.^— 
A  nation,  which  has  produced  a  Bacon,  a  Newton,  a 
Locke,  a  Hume,  and  fo  many  other  profound  inquirers, 
cannot  be  fuppofed  to  have  a  tafle  merely  for  the  lighter, 

(or 


iv  PREFACE. 

(or  what  are  vulgarly  czWed) popular  purfults  of  litera- 
ture. Valuable  and  ufeful  as  thefe  are  to  the  commu- 
nity at  large,  no  man  of  any  penetration  will  deny,  that 
metaphyfical  fpeculations,  or  inquiries  vaxofirji  truths, 
are  equally  beneficial  and  honourable  j  though  they  mufl 
ever  remain  the  property  of  the  few,  whofe  genius  leaves 
the  beaten  track,  and  fearches  for  higher  principles  than 
fuch,  as  are  barely  deduced  from  the  world  of  fenfe,  or 
experience.  * 

To  thofe,  therefore,  who  are  both  able  and  difpofed  to 
become  acquainted  with  the  fpirit  of  the  Critical  Syftem, 
I  beg  leave  to  addrefs  myfelf  in  the  words  of  the  worthy 
Professor  Will  of  Altdorf,  who  gives  his  pupils  the 
following  excellent  advice : 

I.  "  Not  to  prejudge  and  decry  the  works  of  Kant,  as 
being  too  fubtle  and  abflrufe,  as  being  couched  in  unin- 
telligible terms,  as  breathing  innovation,  and  produdive 
of  confufion  in  philofophy  : 

2, "  Not  to  complain  of  the  want  of  that  plainnefs, 
which  is  neceifary  to  render  a  book  palatable  to  popular 
readers  ;  fmce  difficulty  of  apprehenfion  appears  to  be 
peculiar  to  the  inquiries,  that  form  the  objeft  of  the 
*  Critique  ;* 

3,  "  Not  to  appeal,  according  to  the  prevailing  fafliion 
of  the  age,  to  the  decifion  of  the  multitude,  whenever  an 
abftrad  propofition  occurs,  which  cannot,  at  firft  view, 
be  clearly  underftood  from  the  fimple  operations  of  Corn- 
mon  Senfe  i*  for  Metaphyfics  do  not  acknowledge  the 
exchifive  competency  of  this  tribunal  : 

4. 


PREFACE.  V 

'4,  To  abftracl  from  all  other  Metaphyfical  Syftems,  in 
ftudying  the  Critical,!,  e.  not  to  make  any  other  Syftem 
the  flandard,  by  which  the  merits  of  the  prefent  are  to 
be  tried : 

5,  To  ftudy/r/?  the  general  aim  of  the  work,  by  fuc- 
ceflively  examining  every  foluticn,  which  the  Critique  of 
Kant  aiFords  in  regard  to  the  live  principal  problems 
(contained  in  the  '  Synopfis')  :  and  laftly, 

6,  As  the  inquiries  forming  the  objeQ:  of  Kant's  Cri- 
tique are  merely  of  a  fpeculative  nature,  to  proceed  like- 
wife  in  the'profecution  of  them  merely  upon  fpeculative 
grounds,  and  to  abftain  carefully  from  all  partial  views 
of  any  intereft  whatever.  For  the  refult  of  found  fpecu- 
lation  can  never  be  prejudicial  to  the  true  interefls  of 
human  nature." 

With  refpe£l:  to  the  Glossary,  I  mud  refer  the  read- 
er to  the  few  obfervations  premifed  at  the  head  of  it ; 
and  if  I  have  not  fucceeded  in  rendering  the  fubje£l  it- 
felf  more  intelligible,  by  the  definitions  given  of  thofe 
terms,  in  the  ufe  of  which  Kant  differs  from  his  cotem- 
poraries,  I  can  only  plead  the  good  intention,  and  the 
patient  induftry,  with  which  I  collected  and  arranged  the 
materials. 

The  '  Three  Philological  Essays*  have  been  ad- 
ded to  thefe  *  Elements*  by  way  of  Appendix  ;  in  or- 
der to  relieve  the  reader,  in  fome  degree,  from  the  ar* 
duous  tafk — and  fuch  it  undoubtedly  is — of  refleding 
upon  fo  great  a  variety  of  abftraft  fubjeQs.  And  as  thefe 
EfTays  are,  in  a  manner,  unconnefted  with  the  Philofophy 

of 


yi  PREFACE. 

of  Kant,  they  have  been  at  the  fame  time  feparately 
printed,  in  a  form  fomewhat  different  from  the  prefent ; 
in  order  to  accommodate  thofe,  who  might  wifti  to  poE* 
fefs  them  as  a  dilHndl  work. 

Finally,  the  flyle  and  compofitlon  of  this  work,  I  am 
fenfible,  require  more  than  common  apology.  Unfortu- 
nately, however,  it  is  a  matter  of  no  fmall  difficulty  to 
make  good  apologies,  efpecially  in  a  foreign  language, 
Whatever  the  execution  may  be,  ibr  the  anxiety  of  my 
wifhes  I  can  confidently  appeal  to  the  teftimony  of  thofe 
literary  friends,  who  have  occafianally  lent  me  their  ai4 
in  correding  the  grammatical  part  of  both  the  Elements 
and  the  Eflays.  They  well  know  my  eager  and  fincere 
defire  of  improvement  in  Englifli  compofition ;  and  if 
any  material  errors  fhould  occur  in  the  courfe  of  fuch  a 
diverfity  of  fubjeds  as  the  prefent,  I  befeech  the  judicious 
reader  and  the  candid  critic  to  confider,  that  I  have' ven- 
tured into  a  field  of  inquiry,  of  which  but  a  fmall  pj^rt 
has  hitherto  been  explored. 

The  indulgence,  which  I  claim,  will  not  be  withheld' 
ty  thofe,  who  have  tried  their  ftrength  in  tranflating 
from  a  foreign  into  their  own  language  :  and  I  appre- 
hend Itil]  lefs  feverity  from  the  few  individuals,  who  have 
attempted  to  write,  or  to  tranflate  into,  a  foreign  lan- 
guage, which  they  had  an  opportunity  pf  acquiring, 
merely  by  reading  and  converfation. 

IsovEMBj^R,  1797. 

•  CONTENfS 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 


fTiJiorical  IntroduBion,  containing  a  JuccinB  account 
efthe  origin  and  tendency  of  the  Critical  Philofophy,  i 

Elementary  View  of  the  Philosophy  of  Kant  : 
J^reparatory  Remarks ,  -  -  .  24 

I.  Synopsis, 

A.  Definition  and  Dimijion  of  "Philofophy J  -  38 

B.  Problems  and  Solutions  X  Exordium,  -  43 

Problem  Firft,  -                 -                  -         43 

Problem  Second,  -                  -                 -      44 

Problem  Third,  ..             -         ■    -             -      4^ 

Problem  Fourth,  -             •             i»         f.        49 

Problem  Fifth,  -             -             -             -51 

II.  Chronological  Analysis  :  Exordium,  ^'i^ 
I,  Refleftions    upon  the   true  computation  of  living 

powers;  1746,  -  -  -  <^^ 

II. — XVI.  A  Lift  of  fifteen  different  works,  which  the 
author  has  J)ublifhed  between  the  years 
1755  and  1764,  -  -  -        60 

XVII.  (i)  i)^  Mundi  fenfihilis    at  que  intelligihilis  forma 

et  principiisi  I'j'jo,  -  -  -  62 

XVIII.  (2)  Critique  of  Pure  Reafon  ;  1781,'  -         64 
XIX.  (3)  Introduftory  obfervations   with  refpeft  to 

every  future  Syftem  of  Metaphyfics  Sec.  1784,  80 
XX.  (4)  Refleftions  upon  the  foundation  of  the  powers 

and  methods  &c.  1784,  -       83 

XXI.  (5)  Fundamental  Principles   of  the  Metaphyfics 

of  Morals;   1785,  -  -  ibid. 

XXII.  (6)  Metaphyfical  Principles  of  Natural  Philo- 

fophyj  1786,  z  1  -  93 

3i:xni. 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

XXIII.  (7)  Fundamental  Principles  of  the   Critique  of 

Tafte;   1787,  -  -  -       99 

XXIV.  (8)  Critique  of  Praaical  Reafon  ;  1788,  ibid. 
XXV.  (9)  Critique  of  the  Judging  Faculty  ;   1790,  103 

XXVI.  On  a  certain  difcovery,  &c.  1790,  -  I13 

XXVII.  (10)  Religion  confidered  within  the  bounds  of 

mere  Reafon ;   1793,  -  -       114 

XXVIII.  Project  for  a  Perpetual  Peace  ;  1795,  121 

XXIX.  (ii)  Metaphyfical  Elements  of  Jurifprudence  ; 

1797,  -  -  -  127 

XXX.  (12)  Metaphyfical  Elements  of  Ethics;  1797,      134 

A   Lift  of  fourteen  Eflays,    on  various   fubjefts,  pub- 

lifliedby  the  author,  between  the  years  1777  and  1794*    136 

GLOSSARY  :  from  139,  to  183 


m»^< 


Corrigenda. 

p.  16, 1.  11  for  direfts,  read  deferts. 

p.  19, 1.  20,,  for  Propedeutic,  read  Propaedeutic. 

p.  32, 1.  2^,  for  clofe,  read  thofe. 

p.  83, 1.  i^ffor  inherent  to,  read  inherent  in. 

Note :  The  terms  intuition  and  intuitive  have,  by  inadvert- 
ency, fometimes  been  ufed  inftead  of  the  words,  cqg- 
nitiqn  and  cognitive,  particularly  in  No.  XVIII.  (2) 
of  Kant's  works,  or  between  pp.  64.  and  80.-— The 
reader  is  therefore  requefted  tp  attend  to  this  cir- 
cumftance,  efpeclally  in  places,  where  the  promif- 
cuous  ufc  of  thefe  terms  might  occafion  feme  am- 
biguity. 

Elements 


ELEMENTS 

OF  THE 

CRITICAL  PHILOSOPHY,  &c. 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION. 


j^N  Germany,  two  circumftances  in  particular  have  contri- 
buted to  bring  about  a  revolution  in  philofophy,  and  to  di- 
minifli  the  eftimation  in  which  the  dogmatical  fyjiem  of  WoLr 
was  formerly  held :  the  ftudy  of  the  writings  of  the  later 
Englifli  and  French  philofophers  ;,  and  the  appearance  of  a 
philofophic  prince  upon  the  throne  of  Pruffia.J 

The  former  circumftance  made  the  German  philofophers 
acquainted  with  many  objections  that  had  been  ftarted  againft 
the  dogmatical  fyftem  of  Metaphjrfics,  gave  rife  to  a  turn  for 
popularity  in  philofophical  inquiries,  and  awakened  a  fpirit  of 
emulation  among  them.  Seleftions  were  made  from  various 
fyftems  ;  and  the  learned,  now  for  the  firft  time,  began  to  con- 
vey information  with  elegance  and  tafte.  There  arofe  a  fort 
oi  EcleBicifm,  which  difcouraged  party-fpirit,  and  recommend- 
ed philofophical  difcretion  ;  but  which  was,  at  the  fame  time, 
attended  with  fome  injurious  efFedls  ;  for  incoherent  fyftems 
were  thus  formed,  inconfiftent  fyftems  were  mingled  together, 
and  philofophy  became  ftill  more  wavering  and  flimfy,  and 
was  ftill  farther  removed  from  the  perfeftion  of  a  fcience. 

The  hiftory  of  philofophy  was  now  inveftigated  with  great- 
er attention,  and  more  generally  ftudied  than  it  had  formerly 

A  been : 


a  HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION. 

been  :  With  many,  the  ftudy  of  philofophy  was  converted  in- 
to that  of  its  hiftorj  ; — a  clear  proof,  how  much  the  turn 
for  dogmatifm  had  declined,  and  how  little  hope  was  enter- 
tained of  forming  a  fyftem,  at  once  ftable  and  fuited  to  the 
fpirit  of  the  age. 

Frederic  the  Great  collefted  a  number  of  foreign  philo- 
fophers  round  him,  who,  in  a  great  meafure,  merely  to  pay 
adulation,  and  from  felfifli  views,  openly  profeffed,  like  him, 
infidelity  and  fcepticifm.  This  circumftance,  from  the  novelty 
of  the  thing,  and  from  the  admiration  in  which  the  character 
of  Frederic  was  held,  had  an  almoft  magical  influence  on  all 
the  opinions  of  the  age.  It  would,  however,  be  equal  to  ingra- 
titude towards  the  manes  of  this  furprifing  monarch,  to  o- 
mit  mentioning  in  this  place,  that  the  fyllem  of  his  own  prafti- 
cal  philofophy  has  been  held  out,  both  by  divines  and  laymen, 
as  complete  and  downright  Atheifm  ;  whei  eas  it  is  now  clear 
and  imiformly  admitted  by  found  and  unprejudiced  inquirers, 
that  it  amounted  to  nothing  more  than  limple  Deifm. 

Among  the  philofophers  who  furrounded  Frederic,  no  one 
declared  hinifelf  fo  exprefsly,  and  fo  openly,  in  favour  of  fcep- 
ticifm as  d'ARGENS,  the  author  of  the  "  Philofophy  of  good 
**  fenfe,"  which  is  written  in  a  fuperficial  manner,  with  a 
view  of  gaining  popularity,  but  which  is  not  even  calculated 
for  the  Fair  Sex  and  Gentlemen  of  fafliion,  for  whofe  ufe  it 
was  originally  defigned ;  though  it  abounds  in  erudition  and 
abftraft  fpeculation.  D'Argens  there  endeavours  to  fhow  the 
uncertainty  of  Hiftory,  (and  this  is  the  befl:  part  of  the  work) 
of  Logic,  of  Phyfics,  of  Metaphyfics,  and  of  Aftronomy,  with- 
out advancing,  in  oppofition,  any  new,  or  genuine,  philofo- 
fhical  principles.  It  does  him,  neverthelefs,  fome  honour 
that,  with  regard  to  the  morality  of  life,  he  obferves  a  refpeft- 
ful  filence.     His  fcepticifm  is  direfted  more  againft  the  ufual 

pre. 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION.  3, 

pretcafions  of  the  fchools,  and  the  learned  in  particular,  than 
againft  human  knowledge  in  genera). 

It  is  more  remarkable,  though  lefs  known,  that,  in  the  fame 
country,  a  celebrated  and  profound  Divine  declared  himfelf  in 
favour  of  an  almoft  unlimited  Pyrrhoni/m, — M.de  Beausobre, 
in  his  "Pyrrhonifme  raifonablc,"  called  it  rational,  becaufe  he 
allowed  certain  probabilities,  both  in  kind  and  in  degree,  and 
maintained   certain  firll  principles,    which  did  not  admit  of 
doubt.  The  work  is  written  in  a  lively  fceptical  humour,  and 
affords  pleafure  in  the  perufal.  It  contains,  indeed,  many  new 
and  unexpefted  remarks  ;  for  it  is  an  alfault  upon  all  fyftems, 
efpecially  upon  that  of  Wolf.  "  Aristotle,"  the  author  fome- 
where  fays,  "had  numerous  followers  for  many  centuries.  The 
**  time  of  his  fall  is  now  come  ;  and  Descartes  has  given  him 
**  the  laft  blow.     The  fame  of  the  French  philofopher  was  of 
"  fhorter  duration,   becaufe  people   now   poffeffed  more  un- 
'*  derftanding   and    leiis   pedantry.     Leibnitz  came  ;  Wolf 
**  was  his  fucceffor  :  At  prefent  philofophers  are  in  a  fort  of 
**  anarchy  ;  they  wait  for  a  man  who  is  bold  enough  to  build 
"  upon  the  ruins  of  former  Syftems,  new  opinions,  and  confe- 
**  quently  new  errors."     No  where  does  Beaufobre  attack  re- 
ligion and  revelation,   but   rather  refpeftfuUy  affirms   their 
certainty.  The  following  paffage  is  worthy  of  attention :  **  Al- 
**  though  it  be  difficult  to  prove  the  exiftence  of  GoD  by  the 
*'  light  of  reafon,  yet  even  this  light  is  fufficient  to  convince 
**  us,  that  the  proof  of  the  contrary  is  impoflible.     How  can 
**  we  fatisfadorily  prove  the  oppofite,  if  we  have  no  clear  idea 
**  of  the  fubjeft  which  we  wifli  to  call  in  queftion  ?  Although 
"  I  could  bear  in  my  mind  no  fufficient  proof  of  the  exiftence 
"  of  God,  yet  the  advantage  which  attends  the  belief  of  this 
"  truth,  the  impoffibility  of  comprehending  the  nature  of  an 
"  infinite  Being,  and  the  reflexion  that  this  truth  is  both  the 
"  jnoft  rational  and  ufeful  of  all  others,  would  be  fufficient  to 

A  z  .       <*  induce 


4  [HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION'. 

**  induce  any  thinking  perfon  to  give  his  alTent,  nay  even  tft 
'*  determine  me." 

But  after  this  we  are  aftoniflied  to  find  him  confidering  all 
morality  as  uncertain.  His  chief  reafon  is,  "  that  the  good- 
*'  nefs  of  actions  depends  upon  their  confequences,  which  man 
**  cannot  forefee,  nor  accurately  afcertain."  This  argument, 
maturely  confidered,  is  obvioufly  Ihallow,  becaufe  it  proceeds 
upon  falfe  ideas  of  morality  :  But  the  following  objeftions 
are  of  greater  importance  :  "  That  we  are  fo  little  acquainted 
**  with  the  motives  from  which  we  aft,  and  in  general  with 
**  our  palTions,  that  we  know  not  how  far  our  prejudices, 
**  and  our  weaknefs,  can  juftify  our  aft  ions  ;  and  that  the  in- 
**  terference  and  eollifions  of  our  different  duties  are  inexpli- 
**  cable  to  mofl  men,  nay  fome  of  them  inexplicable  to  all.'* 
The  remark  at  the  end  of  this  work  is  not  lefs  ftriking.  '*  The 
**  uncertainty  of  our  knowledge  fliould  not  render  us  diflatis- 
*'  fied  ;  its  advantage,  or  difadvantage,  will  not  thereby  be 
"  much  aflfefted.  Certainty,  with  refpeft  to  usi  is  not  even 
**  the  moll  ufeful  quality  of  our  knowledge.  The  difficulty 
**  of  acquiring  accurate  knowledge,  is  an  admonition  of  nature, 
**  which  reminds  man  of  his  weaknefs,  and  of  the  caution  he 
"  ought  to  obfcrve." 

The  inclination  to  Scepticifm  fliowed  itfelf  alfo  in  other 
parts  of  Germany,  in  different  writings.  It  appeared  mani- 
feftly,  for  inftance,  in  the  **  Phyfical  Caufes  of  Truth,"  by 
Lossius,  and  in  the  firft  edition  of  Platner's  "  Philofophical 
"  Aphorifms."  In  the  fyflems  of  Logic  and  elementary  books 
alfo,  much  more  regard  was  paid  to  it  than  formerly ;  in  proof 
of  which  I  fliall  only  mention  the  excellent  difcuffions  in 
"  Lambert's  Organum,"  and  in  the  elementary  publications 
of  Feder. 

But  no  author  had,  on  the  one  hand,  paid  more  attention  to 
the  objeftions  of  the  Sceptics,  and  the  diftinguiftiing  charafter- 

iftic 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION.  j 

Iftie  of  the  poffible  fyftems ;  and  on  the  other,  inveftigated  more 
profoundly  the  faculties  of  the  Human  Underftanding,  and, 
indeed,  of  the  whole  Human  Conflitution,  than  Tetens,  in  his 
*'  Philofophical  Inquiries  concerning  Human  Nature,  and  the 
"  developement  of  it,"  which  were  publiflied  in  two  volumes, 
in  the  year  1777.  It  is  not  our  bufinefs  here  to  mark  mi- 
nutely the  excellencies  or  defefts  of  this  work;  we  take 
notice  of  it  on  this  account  chiefly,  becaufe  that  profound 
philofopher  was  the  firft  among  the  Germans,  who  examined 
fome  of  the  ideas  of  Hume,  with  an  acutenefs  worthy  of  fuch 
an  opponent ;  and  he  has  inveftigated  the  dodlrines  of  ohj'Bive 
truth,  and  of  the  objeftive  exiftence  of  things,  more  deeply 
and  more  precifely  than  had  been  done  before.  Againft  the 
explanation  given  by  Hume,  of  the  idea  of  Caufation,  he  ob- 
jefted  with  juftice,  that  it  did  not  exhauft  the  fubjeft  ;  for 
we  underftand  by  it  not  merely  a  connexion,  but  alfo  a  de- 
pendence of  one  thing  upon  another.  He  remarked  that  we 
perceive  in  ourfelves  ideas  in  a  neceffary  fucceflion,  and  that 
this  is  properly  our  notion  of  a  caufe,  or  connexion  :  he 
pointed  out  inftances,  in  which  the  fubjeftive  connexion  of 
ideas  arifes  from  a  neceffary  operation  of  the  underfl  anding, 
and,  aftually,  has  another  foundation  than  the  affociation  of 
ideas  formed  by  experience ; — cafes  where  we  explain  a 
compound  effedl  from  compound  caufes  ;  and  where  the  idea 
of  the  complex  effecSt  has  never  been  before  affociated  with 
that  of  the  complex  caufe,  but  where  the  conne£lion  is  the 
work  of  refledion  :  in  fine,  he  has  pointed  out  the  operations 
of  the  mind,  by  which  we  deduce  one  truth  from  another. 
He  maintained,  therefore,  that  the  idea  of  Caufation  is  ab- 
Ilrafted  from  certain  affociations  of  ideas,  in  which  we  remark 
fomething  more  than  mere  fucceflion  and  combination. 

Although  this  explanation  is  not  altogether  fatisfaftory,  yet 
it,  in  a  great  mcafuxe,  holds  good  againft  Hume's  idea.  Tetens 

admits 


6  HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTIOISr, 

admits  that  fenfations  afford  the  materiab  for  all  ideas  j  but 
he  contends  that  their  form  depends  upon  the  mind,  or  the 
power  of  thinking.  After  having,  in  a  very  profound  manner, 
iUuftrated  the  origin  of  our  knowledge,  from  the  objedive  ex- 
iftence  of  things,  he  next  examines  the  truth  of  objedive 
knowledge.  According  to  his  acceptation  of  the  terms,  our 
knowledge  is  called  objeftivcly  true,  in  Co  far  as  objeds  muft 
be  perceived  by  every  other  being,  in  the  fame  manner  in 
which  we  reprefent  them  to  ourfelves  ; — a  being  who  has  fuch 
a  mind  as  we  have  :  and  in  lo  far  as  the  relations,  which  we 
remark  in  our  external  perceptions,  correfpond  with  thofe  of 
every  other  being,  whofe  underftanding  is  fo  conftituted,  that 
it  thinks  of  the  objeds  in  queftion,  as  we  do. .  The  neceffary 
rules  of  thought,  according  to  which  the  mind  proceeds,  are, 
with  him,  not  only  fuhjeSiive  rules  of  our  thinking  faculty, 
but  of  every  reflecting  principle  ;  and  the  general  truths  of 
reafon  ar>e  not  only  truths  with  refpedt  to  us,  but  to  every 
reafoning  being.  We  cannot  conceive  an  underftanding  which 
is  capable  of  thinking  againft  the  principle  of  contradiftion,  or 
in  other  words,  of  difputing  the  admiffibility  of  that  principle  : 
hence  this  is  juftly  confidered  as  an  objeftive  principle. 

Tetenshere  contradifts  whatLoflius  had  laid  down;  and  what 
Defcartes  had  indeed,  pretty  diftiu£lly  before  explained :  That 
truth  is  only  a  relation  with  refped  to  the  being  who  thinks  of 
it,  and  that  the  con  tradition  is  incapable  of  being  an  object 
of  thought,  only  with  refpeft  to  our  underftanding.  Thus 
Tetens,  with  many  others,  proceeded  in  reafoning  upon  fub- 
jedive  neceffary  principles.  He  appealed  to  the  fad,  that 
when  we  apply  theories  to  real  qbjeds,  we  always  fuppofc 
that  the  reality  is  fo  conftituted,  as  the  general  ideas  repre- 
fent it.  But  here,  argues  he,  the  mind  proceeds  according  to 
laws  which  we  muft  confider  as  the  laws  of  every  reafoning 

being  j . 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION.  7 

being  ; — confequently  the  truths  which  are  here  admitted,  or 
fuppofed,  are  objedlive  truths. 

With  refpeft  to  the  objefts  of  fenfe,  the  knowledge  of  them, " 
indeed,  is  often  only  an  obje6tive  appearance  ;  but  the  necef- 
farjjaws  of  thought  lead  to  this  conclufion,  that  other  think- 
ing beings,  in  fimilar  circumllances,  reprefent  thefe  objefts  to 
themfelves  in  a  fimilar  manner  ;  that  thefe  objeds,  with  cer- 
tain conformations,  exift  without  us,  and  that  certain  proper- 
ties of  the  impreffions  which  we  experience,  are  alfo  the  pro- 
perties of  the  obje£ls  themfelves. — A  Sceptic,  however,  with- 
out going  out  of  his  way  in  queft  of  far-fetched  arguments, 
might  eafily  find  a  good  deal  to  objefl  againfl  this  deduftion. 

The  work  of  Tetens  had  not  the  elFed:  of  promoting  a  folid 
philofophic  fpirit,  and  of  bringing  about  a  falutary  revolution 
in  the  fl;udy  of  philofophy,  wKich  might  other  wife  have  been 
expe6ted.  But  this  was  not  merely  the  confequence  of  the 
circnmftances  of  the  times ; — but  alfo  of  a  ftile,  not  fo  much 
•  obfcure,  as  languid,  prolix  and  afFefted ;  as  well  as  of  a  flaviih 
dependence  upon  the  Empiiicifm  of  Locke,  which  is  infufficient 
for  the  explanation  of  the  mofl:  important  problems. 

What  this  work  did  not  accomplifh,  another  did. — Kant, 
who  by  various  compofitions  upon  philofophical  fubjefts^  had 
long  ago  announced  himfelf  as  an  original  genius,  and  an  ex- 
cellent philofopher,  publiflied  in  the  year  1781,  the  "  Critique 
of  Pure.  Reafon,"  which  promifed  a  total  and  beneficial  reform 
in  every  philofophical  department.  For  a  long  time,  however, 
after  its  publication,  it  had  been  imaccountably  neglefted,  or, 
at  leaft,  mifunderllood.  This  was  furely  not  in  confequence 
of  the  difficulties,  with  which  the  flaidy  of  it,  as  well  as  of 
every  metaphyfical  fubjeft,  is  neceflarily  attended  ;  but  of  a 
certain  indifference  to  philofophy,  and  of  a  rooted  tafte  for 
iliallow  and  popular  difcuflions,  which  Kant  directly  oppo- 
fcd.    But  as  foon  as  the  work  was  more  fludied  and  invefti- 

gated 


5  HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION. 

gated,  and  had  found  feveral  fuccefsful  Commentators,  at  once 
a  revolution  in  philofophy  commenced.  It  foon  met  with 
numerous  admirers  and  friends,  and  even  its  opponents  could 
not  with-hold  their  admiration  from  this  mafterly  produftion, 
Thej  faw  themfelves^  every  where,  driven  from  their  llrong 
holds,  and  obliged  to  ere£l  new  fortifications  for  the  defence  of 
thofe  philofophical  tenets  which  they  wiihed  to  maintain. 
Nay,  many  of  the  enemies  of  this  fyllem  became  its  friends  ; 
sm.d  the  invaluable  part  of  it,  which  treats  of  morals,  met 
with  an  almofl  univerfal  approbation.  All  the  different 
branches  of  Philofophy  were  examined  with  greater  ardour, 
and  new  fources  of  knowledge,  which  formerly  had  fcarcely 
been  conceived,  were  now  expofed  to  view.  The  limits  of 
the  fcience  were  more  accurately  defined,  and  the  laudable 
refearches  after  liable  and  fimple  principles,  and  after  a  rigid 
method,  gave  to  philofophical  inquiries  a  certainty,  and  an  in- 
terefl,  which  for  a  long  time  they  had  not  pofTelTed.  Long  be- 
fore this  period  doubts  had  arifen,  in  reflefting  minds,  con- 
cerning the  fyftems  of  Leibnitz,  Wolf  and  Locke  ;  but  thefe 
had  never  been  unfolded  with  fufficient  clearnefs,  nor  a  better 
fyflem  fubllituted  in  the  place  of  that  which  was  to  be  re- 
linquiihed.  Here  all  fyflems  were  examined  with  critical 
acumen,  and  a  folid  foundation  was  laid  for  a  new  one.  This 
New  Philofophy,  in  a  jQiort  time,  was  attended  with  an  almoft 
magical  influence  upon  all  the  Sciences.  It  found  friends  and 
adherents,  even  among  ranks  of  people  who  had  not  devoted 
themfelves  to  Science,  or  leail  of  all,  to  Metaphyfics.  It  excited 
in  Germany,  a  found,  philofophic  fpirit  of  inquiry,  of  which 
the  prefent  age  was  fcarcely  deemed  capable.  It  contains  fuch 
an  immenfe  flore  of  new  ideas  and  views  that,  hitherto,  only 
a  fmall  part  of  thefe  materials  can  be  confidered  as  digefled, 
and  even,  in  a  diflant  age,  new  branches  of  knowledge  may 
fiioot  forth  from  it. 

The 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION.  9 

The  work  itfelf  is  arranged  with  alyftematicfpirit,  and  writ- 
ten with  a  noble  philofophic  impartiality.  The  ftyle  is  Ibme- 
what  obfcure  *,  the  conftruftion  and  arrangement  of  the  pe- 
riods, in  many  places,  ungraceful,  heavy,  and  over- loaded  ;  but 
a  reader  who  has  a  tolerable  underftanding,  and  an  interell  for 
truth,  is  fufliciently  recompenfed  by  the  originality  of  thought, 
and  by  the  new  und  ftriking  images  in  which  it  abounds-  The 
celebrated  author  difcovers  all  the  talents  requifite  to  a  re- 
former of  philofophy,  efpecially  in  our  age  : — not  merely  an 
admirable  acutcnefs,  and  a  rare  talent  of  making  himfelf  the 
objeft  oiljis  refleftion,  but  alfo  a  knowledge  in«Mathematics  and 
Natural  Philofophy,  of  which  he  had  formerly  given  proofs  : 
a  nice  fenfibility  of  the  Beautiful  and  Sublime  ;  and  in  ge- 
neral^ a  cultivated  manly  tafle,  a  thorough  acquaintance  with 
the  different  Syfteras  of  philofophy  that  prevailed  before  his 
time  ;  and  a  refinement  of  feeling,  which  is  truly  honourable. 

It  is  not  my  defign  hercy  to  defcribe  minutely  the  fyflem  of 
this  philofopher,  which,  befides  the  work  already  mentioned, 
is  explained  in  the  "  Prolegomena  to  every  future  Syftem  of 
Metaphyfics,"  publifhed  in  1783  ;  in  the  *'  Fundamental  Prin- 
ciples of  the  Metaphyfics  (Theory)  of  Morals,"  in  1785  ;  in 
the  "  Metaphyfical  Principles  of.  Natural  Philofophy,"  in 
1786;  in  the  *'  Critique  on  Praftical  Reafon,"  in  1788  ;  in 
the  "  Critique  on  Judgment,"  in  1790  ;  and  in  the  "  Religion 
within  the  limits  of  Pure  Reafon,"  in  1793:  And  which 
Syftem  has  found  in  Reinhold,  Schulz,  Schmid,  and  others, 
friends  and  commentators, — men  who  themfelves  were  quali- 

B  fied 

*  "  I  am  not  very  confclous,"  fays  Kant,  in  his  preface  to  the  ad  edition  of  the 
Critique  of  Pure  Reafon,  p.  43  ."  that  I  poffefs  the  talent  of  exliibiting  an  abftratfl 
philofophical  fubjeft  in  a  luminous  point  of  view :  I  trUfl  that  the  occafional  de- 
fe(5l  of  ftyle  will  be  further  fupplied  by  the  writings  of  thofe  dcfcrving  c^aradlen 
who,  -together  with  a  folid  judgment,  are  in  the  poffeflion  of  that  talent.  For, 
this  being  the  cafe,  there  is  no  danger  of  being  refuted,  but  rather  of  beinj;  mif 
vnderfotds 


xo  HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION. 

fird  to  advance  fcience.     The  following  abftraft  will  be  fuffi- 
cient  for  our  prefent  purpofe. 

Kant  begins  with  doubting,  whether  Metaphyfics,  in  gene- 
4  ral,  be  capable  of  being  ftudicd  as  a  fcience.  He  remarked 
that,  hitherto,  this  branch  of  knowledge  could  not  lay  claim 
to  the  appellation  of  a  fcience  j  although  it  was  older  than  all 
the  others,  and  befides,  bj  the  intereft  it  excited,  always  ' 
obtruded  itfelf  upon  our  attention.  Two  circumllances  led 
him  to  difcoveries,  which  were  to  bring  about  a  revolution  in 
Metaphyfics,  and  fecure  to  them  the  rank  of  a  fcience  ; — the 
obfervation,  by  what  means  Mathematics  and  Natural  Philo- 
fophy  had  become  fcicnces  ;  and  Hume's  inquiries  concerning 
the  idea  of  caufation.  We  begin  with  the  latter,  and  fliall 
make  Kant  himfelf  give  the  account  of  it. 

**  Since  the  Eflays  of  Locke  and  Leibnitz,  or  rather  fince 
**  the  origin  of  Metaphyfics,  as  far  as  their  hiftory  extends,  no 
*'  circumftance  has  occurred,  which  might  have  been  more 
*'  decifive  of  the  fate  of  this  fcience,  than  the  attack  which 
*'  David  Hume  made  upon  it.  He  brought,  indeed,  no  light 
*'  into  this  department  of  knowledge,  but  he  ftruck  a  fpark 
"  which,  if  it  had  fallen  among  combullible  materials,  and  had 
**  been  carefully  fanned,  ipight  have  been  eafily  kindled  in- 
**  to  a  blaze.  Hume  proceeded  upon  a  fingle  but  important 
**  idea  in  Metaphyfics,  the  conne£lion  of  caufe  and  effect,  and 
**  the  concomitant  notions  of  power  and  aftion  :  he  challenged 
*'  reafon  to  anfwer  him,  what  title  flie  had  to  imagine,  that  any 
*'  thing  may  be  fo  conftituted  as  that,  if  it  be  given,  fomething 
**  elfe  is  alfo  thereby  inferred :  for  the  idea  of  caufe  denotes 
**  this.  He  proved  beyond  contradidlion,  that  it  is  impofilble  for 
*'  reafon  to  think  of  fuch  a  connection  a  priori,  and  out  of 
*'  its  own  ideas  ;  for  it  contains  neceffity  j  but  it  is  not  pof- 
**  fible  to  perceive  how,  becaufe  fomething  is,  fomething  elfe 

"  mufl 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION.  it 

"  muft  alfo  neceflarilj  be  ;  nor  how  the  idea  -  of  fuch  a  con- 
**  nedlion  can  be  introduced  a  priori." — 

"  Hence  he  concluded,  that  reafon  entirely  deceives  herfelf 
"  with  this  idea,  and  that  fhe  erroneoufl  j  conliders  it  as  her  own 
**  child,  when  it  is  onlj  the  fpurious  offspring  of  imagination, 
**  which  imagination,  impregnated  by  experience,  has  brought 
••  certain  ideas  under  the  law '  of  affociation,  and  fubftituted  a 
**  fubjedlive  neceffity,  thence  arifing,  that  is  habit,  for  an  ob- 
"  jedive  one  derived  fiom  perception.  Hence,  again,  he  con- 
"  eluded  that  reafon  had  no  title  to  think  of  fuch  connexions, 
"  even  in  a  general  manner  ;  becaufe  then  all  her  general  ideas 
•*  would  be  merely  fiftions,  and  all  her  pretended  notions, 
*'  ftamped  a  priori,  would  be  nothing  elfe  than  counterfeited 
*'  ordinary  leffons  of  experience  :  which  is  juft  faying,  there  is 
"  no  fcience  of  Metaphyfics  at  all,  and  there  can  be  none." 

"  However  hafty  and  unwarrantable  Hume's  conclufion 
•*  might  appear,  yet  it  was  founded  upon  inveftigation,  and  this 
**  inveftigation  well  deferved,  that  fome  of  the  philofophers  of 
"  his  time  fliould  have  united  to '  folve  more  happily,  if  pof- 
**  fible,  the  problem  in  the  fenfe  in  which  he  delivered  it :  a 
"  complete  reform  of  thfc  fcience  might  have  refulted  from 
*'  this  folution.  But  it  appears  to  have  been  the  unavoidable 
**  deftiny  of  Metaphyfics,  that  he  fhould  not  be  underftood  by 
*♦  his  cotemporaries.  For  it  is  a  mortifying  refleftion,  that  his 
"  opponents,  Reid,  Beattie,  Oswald,  and  laftly  Priestlet 
**  himfelf,  totally  mifunderftood  the  tendency  of  his  problem. 
**  Always  admitting  as  granted,  what  he  never  had  called  in 
"  queftion,  they  fo  mifunderftood  his  aim  at  improvement,  that 
*<  every  thing  remained  in  the  fame  ftate,as  if  nothing  had  been 
**  done. — The  queftion  was  not,  whether  the  idea  of  caufe  be  in 
•*  itfelf  proper,  and  indifpenfible  to  the  illuftration  of  all  natural 
"  knowledge  ;  for  this  Hume  had  never  doubted  ;  but  whe- 
5*  ther  this  idea  is  »n  objeft  of  thought  through  reafoning  a 

B  2  priori ', 


1%  HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION. 

<•  priori ;  and  whether,  in  this  manner,  it  poflefs  internal  evi- 
"  dence,  independently  of  all  experience ;  confequentlj,  whe- 
"  ther  it  be  of  fuch  «xteafive  utility,  as  is  not  limited  to  objects 
**  of  fenfe  alone — It  was  upon  this  point  Hume  expefted  an 
♦*  explanation. 

"  The  opponents  of  this  celebrated  man,  in  order  fatisfac- 
•*  torily  to  folve  his  problem,  would  have  been  under  the  ne- 
**  ceffity  of  penetrating  more  profoundly  into  the  abftradl  na- 
**  ture  of  reafon,  in  fo  far  as  it  is  employed  in  finre  thought  ; 
*'  an  inquiry  to  which  they  were  little,  if  at  all,  difpofed. — 
*'  Hence  they  contrived  a  more  convenient  method  of  difplay- 
•*  ing  their  malignity,  without  fubjefting  themfelves  to  the 
*'  trouble  of  making  further  refearches  ;  namely,  the  appeal 
**  to  the  common  fenfe  of  mankind. — It  is  indeed  a  great  gift  of 
**  Heaven,  to  poflefs  a  plain  and  unbiaffed  underftanding  ; — 
*'  but  we  mull  manifeft  it,  and  eftabliih  ourfelves  in  this  pof- 
*'  feffion,  by  fa£ls,  by  refleftion,  and  by  reafon,  by  what  we 
*'  do  and  fay ;  not  by  appealing  to  it  as  an  oracle,  when  we 
**  can  produce  no  rational  arguments  to.juftify  the  claim.— . 
**  When  obfervation  and  fcience  are  put  to  the  laft  fliift,  then, 
**  and  not  fooner,  is  it  time  to  appeal  to  common  fenfe. — • 
*'  Tilts  is  one  of  the  fubtle  contrivances  of  modern  times,  by 
*•  which  the  Ihallow  prattler  affumes  a  right,  boldly  to  chal- 
•'  lenge  a  man  of  profound  erudition,  and  frequently  main- 
<*  tains  the  conteft.  As  long,  however,  as  there  is  any  roonj 
**  left  for  difcovery,  we  fliall  do  well  to  beware  of  having  re- 
^*  courfe  to  this  laft  expedient.  And,  in  truth^  this  appeal  is 
^'  nothing  elfe  than  a  fubmiffion  to  the  judgment  of  the  mul- 
**  titude,  a  reference  at  which  the  Philofopher  blufhes,  but  iu 
*'  which  the  filly  witling  triumphs  and  exults. — I  ftiould 
**  think ,  too,  Hume  might  have  laid  claim  to  a  found  un- 
f^  derftanding,  as  well  as  Beattie  ;  and  befides,  to  what  the 
♦?  letter  certainly  did  not  poffefs,  to  a  critical  acquaintance  with 

«  that 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION.  i^ 

*<  that  fpecies  of  reafoaing,  which  keeps  common  fenfe  within 
*'  due  bounds,  and  prevents  it  from  lofing  itfelf  in  fpecula- 
<*  tions  }  or  what  is  more  to  the  prefent  purpofe,  which  hin- 
*-*  ders  it  from  deciding  upon  any  fubjecl,  becaufe  it  knows  not 
**  how  to  juftify  its  mode  of  proceeding  upon  its  own  prin- 
**  ciples  ;  a   reflraint,  without   which  ^an  underllanding  wiU 

♦'  not  long  remain  found -The  chiflel  and  the  mallet  may  do 

**  well  enough  for  Ihaping  a  piece  of  timber,  but  the  ra- 
**  dius-needle,  a  nicer  inftrument,  muft  be  employed. for  en- 
it  graving. — In  the  fame  manner,  a  found  and  plain  under- 
**  {landing,  as  well  as  a  fpeculative  one,  are  each  of  ufe  in 
f*  their  turn  j  the  former,  when  we  are  converfant  about 
*'  judgments  that  are  immediately  applicable  to  experience  ; 
*'  the  latter,  when  we  are  about  forming  general  judgments 
"  from  mere  abllraft  ideas,  as  in  Metaphyfics,  where  the  un- 
"  derftanding,  termed  found  or  plain,  but  often  erroneoufly  fo 
**  denominated,  cannot  afford  any  alliftance. 

**  I  freely  own,  the  fuggeftions  of  David  Hume  were,  what 
*'  firil,  many  years  ago,  roufed  me  from  my  dogmatical  flum- 
**  ber,  and  gave  to  m^  inquiries  quite  a  diiferent  direction  in 
*'  the  field  of  fpeculative  Philofophy. — I  was  far  from  be- 
**  ing  carried  away  by  his  conclufions,  the  fallacy  of  which 
"  chiefly  arofe  from  his  not  forming  to  himfelf  an  idea  of  the 
**  ivhole  of  his  problem  ;  but  merely  inveftigating  ^  part  of  it, 
**  the  folution  of  which  was  impoffible,  without  a  comprehen- 
**  five  view  of  the  whole. — :When  we  proceed  upon  a  well 
<*  founded,  though  not  thoroughly  digefted  thought,  we  may 
"  expeft,  by  patient  and  continued  reflexion,  to  profecute  it 
*'  -farther,  than  the  acute  genius  had  done,  to  whom  we  are  in- 
**  debted  for  the  firft  fpark  of  this  light. — I  firft  enquired, 
**  therefore,  whether  Hume's  objeftion  might  not  be  a  general 
**  one,  and  foon  found,  that  the  idea  of  caufe  and  efFeft  is  far 
•*  from  being  the  only  one,   by  which   the  underftanding  a 

priori 


14  HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTIOlSr. 

*•  priori  thinks  of  the  connexion  of  things  ;  but  rather,  that 
*'  the  fcience  of  Metaphyfics  is  altogether  founded  upon  thefe 
**  connexions. — I  endeavoured  to  afcertain  their  number,  and 
"  as  I  fucceeded  in  this  attempt,  upon  ^Jingle  principle,  I  pro- 
**  ceeded  to  the  deduftion  of  thofe  general  ideas  which,"  I  was 
•*  now  convinced,  are  not,  as  Hume  apprehended,  derived 
**  from  experience,  but  arife  out  of  the  pure  underftanding. 
**  This  deduftion,  which  feemed  impoffible  to  my  acute  pre- 
*'  deceflbr,  and  which  nobody  befides  him  had  ever  conceived, 
"  although  every  one  makes  ufe  of  thefe  ideas,  without  alking 
"  himfelf,  upon  what  their  objeftive  validity  is  founded  ;  this 
**  dedudion  was,  I.fay,  the  moft  difficult  which  could  have  been 
"  undertaken  for  the  behoof  of  Metaphyfics.  And  what  was 
**  ftill  more  embarraffing,  Metaphyfics  could  not  here  offer  me 
«'  the  fmallell  affiftance,  becaufe  that  dedu£lion  ought  firft  to 
«*  eftablifli  the  poflibility  of  a  fyftem  of  Metaphyfics.  As  I 
*'  had  now  fucceeded  in  the  explanation  of  Hume's  problem, 
"  not  merely  in  a  particular  inftance,  but  with  a  view  of  the 
"  whole  power  of  pure  reafon,  I  could  advance  with  fure, 
"  though  tedious  fleps,  to  determine  completely,  and  upon 
'*  general  principles,  the  compafs  of  pure  reafon,  both  what 
*'  is  the  fphere  of  its  exertion,  and  what  are  its  limits  :  which 
"  was  all  that  was  required  for  erefting  a  fyftem  of  Meta« 
**  phyfics  upon  a  proper  and  folid  foundation." 

Kant  remarked,  that  Mathematics  and  Natural  Philofophy 
had  properly  become  fciences  by  the  difcovery,  that  reafon 
a  priori  attributed  certain  principles  to  objefts  ;  and  he  in- 
quired, whether  we  could  not  alfo  fucceed  better  in  Meta- 
phyfics by  taking  it  for  granted,  that  objeds  muft  be  accommo- 
dated to  the  conftitution  of  our  mind,  than  by  the  common 
fuppofition,  that  all  our  knowledge  muft  be  regulated  accord- 
ing to  external  objedls.  The  following  are  the  elements  of  his 
**  Critique  of  pure  reafon," — the  firft  of  Kant's  fyftematical 

works., 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION.  1 5 

tvorks,  and  the  moft  remarkable  for  profound  reafoning,  and 
the  flriking  illuftrations,  with  which  it  throughout  abounds. 

"  We  are  in  pofleffion  of  certain  notions  a  priori,  which 
"  are  abfolutely  independent  of  all  experience,  although  the 
**  obje£ls  of  experience  correfpond  with  them  ;  and  which  are 
**  diftinguifhed  by  neceffitj  and  ftrift  univerfalitj.  To  thefe 
"  are  oppofed  empirical  notions,  or  fuch  as  are  only  poffible  a 
**  pofteriori,  that  is,  through  experience.  Befides  thefe,  wc 
"  have  certain  notions,  with  which  no  objedls  of  cxpe- 
**  rience  ever  correfpond,  which  rife  above  the  world  of 
**  fenfe,  and  which  we  confider  as  the  moft  fublime,  fuch  as 
*'  God,  Liberty,  Immortality.— -There  are  analytical  and  Jyn- 
*'  tbetical judgments  a  priori;  the  former  are  merely  illuftra- 
"  tive,  and  depend  upon  the  principle  of  contradi6lion  ;  the 
"  latter  are  amplijicatory,  i.  e.  they  enlarge  our  knowledge, 
**  and  are  eftabliflied  upon  another  (ajQTertoryJ  principle.  The 
**  laft  are  peculiar  to  the  icience  of  Metaphyfics  ;  although  it 
"  alfo  contains  analytical  judgments.  Befides,  there  are  con- 
"  tained  in  all  theoretical  fciences  of  reafoning,  purely  fyn- 
"  thetical  judgments  a  priori  as  principles,  namely,  fuch  as 
**  amplify,  or  enlarge  our  knowledge  of  objcdls,  without  im- 

*'  mediate  perception Mathematical   judgments  are  altoge- 

*•  ther  fynthetical.  The  Mathematician  may  by  his  pofition 
**  always  give  fomething  material,  or  empirical ;  but  there  is 
**  always  fuppofed  in  it  a  pure  perception  a  priori,  a  form  of 
**  the  fenfitive  faculty,  viz.  Space  and  Time.  This  form  firft 
"  renders  every  adlual  appearance  of  objedls  poffible.  Thus 
**  pure  Mathematics  are  poffible,  and  can  be  reduced  to  a  fci- 
*♦  entific  form — Natural  Philofophy  alfo   contains  fynthetical 

**  judgments   a  priori,  as    its    principles By  the   fenfitive 

**  faculty  we  are  able  to  form  perceptions  :  by  the  under- 
**  ftanding  we  form  general  ideas.  By  the  fenfitive  faculty 
*'  we  experience  impreffions,  and  objects  are  given  to  us  :  by 

the 


16  HISTORICAL  TNTRODUCTIOlSr. 

"  the  underftanding  we  bring  reprefentations  of  thefe  objccls 
**  before  us  ;  we  think  of  them.  Perceptions  and  general 
**  ideas  are  the  elements  of  all  ouj  knowledge.  Without  the 
"  fenfitive  faculty,  no  obje<9:  could  be  given  (propofed  to) 
'*  us :  without  the  underftanding,  none  could  be  thought  of 
*'  bj  us.  Thefe  two  powers  are  really  diftinft  from  one  ano- 
**  ther  ;  but  neither  of  the  two,  without  the  other,  can  pro- 
**  duce  a  notion^  (^Erkenntnifs)  In  order  to  obtain  a  diftin^l 
**  notion  of  any  one  thing,  we  muft  prefeiit  to  our  general  ideas, 
**  objefts  in  perception,  and  reduce  our  perceptions  to,  or  con- 
•*  ne£l  them  with,  thefe  general  ideas. — \s  the  fenfitive  fa- 
*'  culty  has  its  determined  forms  ;  fo  has  our  underftanding, 
**  likewife,  forms  a  priori.  Thefe  may  be  properly  termed 
**  Categories. ;  they  are  pure  ideas  of  the  underftanding,  which 
**  relate,  a  priori,  to  the  objecls  of  perception  in  general.  The 
"  objecls  of  experience,  therefore,  are  in  no  other  way  pof- 
**  fible  ;  they  can  in  no  other  way  be  thought  of  by  us  ; 
**  and  their  multiplied  diverfity  can  only  be  reduced  to 
*'  one  aft  of  judgment,  or  to  one  aft  of  confcioufnefs,  by 
**  means  of  thefe  Categories  of  fenfe.     Hence,  the  Catego- 

**  ties    have  objeftive  reality. They  are  either  Catego- 

*'  ries  of  I.  ^lantity  ;  as  unity,  number,  totcdity :  or  2.  of 
**  Quality  ;  as  reality,  negation,  limitation  :  or  3.  of  Rela- 
**  tion,  as  fubftance  and  accident,  caufe  and  eiFect ;  or  the  re- 
**  ciprocal  operation  between  agent  and  fufFerer  :  or  4.  of 
**  Modality ;  as  pofllbility  and  impoffibility,  exiftence  and 
*'  non  exiftence,  neceflity  and  contingency. — The  judgm^t  is 
♦*  the  capacity  of  applying  the  general  ideas  of  the  under-  ^ 
**  ftanding  to  the  information  of  experience.^*)  The  objefts  of 
"  experience  are  regulated  according  to  thefe  ideas  ;  not,  vice 

*'.  verfa 

''  *  Hence  we  obferve  in  thofewho  are  deprived  of,  or  deficient  in,  this  important 
faculty,  that  they  are  unable  to  determine  between  good  and  bad,  between  danger 
and  fafcly,  and  fo  forth. 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION.  17 

*"*  vcrfa,  our  ideas  according  to  the  objefts.  We  can  attain  no 
**  knowledge  of  an  objed,  as  a  thing  in  itfelf,  but  only  fo  far 
**  as  it  is  an  objeft  of  our  fenfitive  perception,  or  a  phenome- 
•*  non  ;  though  we  muft  be  capable  of  conceiving  objefts  as 
**  fubftances,  and  likewife  of  admitting  their  reality  ;  becaufe 
*'  our  internal  experience,  the  confcioufnefs  of  our  own  ex- 
**  iftence,  is  only  poffible  on  the  fuppofition  of  external  expe- 
**  rience,  or  by  the  perception  of  other  things  without  us. 
**  As  foon  as  we  pretend  to  confider  the  objedls  of  fenfe,  as 
**  things  in  themfelves,  reafon  falls  into  a  contradiflion  \Cith 
*'  itfelf,  into  oppofite  principles  which  it  cannot  unravel,  fo 
**  that  as  much  can  be  faid  for  one  pofition,  as  for  its  oppofite. 
*•  Our  kno^vledge,  then,  is  wholly  confined  to  the  objects  of 
"  experience,  without  which  the  pure  abflradt  ideas  of  the 
"  u^nderftanding  are  of  no  value,  and  confequently  they  are 
**  no  longer  of  ufe,  when  we  abandon  the  regions  of  t\\&fe?i/i~ 
"  ble  world.  Liberty,  God,  and  Immortality  are  ideas  which 
**  are  exalted  above  all  fenfitive  faculties  \  they  are  not  ob- 
"  jefts  of  fenfitive  knowledge,  nor  of  objeftive  certainty,  but 
•'  of  necejfary  thought  and  belief.  Speculative  reafon,  when  it 
*'  confiders  any  thing,  as  to  what  it  is  in  itfelf ^  direfts  us  here, 
**  or  leads  us  into  conjefture  and  contradidlion  ;  but  praBical 
**  reafon,  when  it  confioers  that  which,  fh all  hcy  by  clear  ex- 
V"  preflions  announces  to  us  truths,  than  which  nothing  can 
*•  be  more  important.  It  declares  us,  as  moral  beings,  to  be 
*♦  free  agents,  who  are  not  fubjeded  to  the  mechanifm  of  na- 
'*  ture  :  it  holds  out  to  us  an  ideals  moral  perfe6lion,  which 
"  we  ought  to  attain,  but  which  we  can  attain  only  by  an 
«  endlefs  progreflion,  and  therefore  enjoins  us  to  chefifli  a  be- 
*<  lief  in  immortality.  By  the  idea  of  a  mofl:  perfeft  flate,  it 
**  fatisfies  that  inftlndive  defire  of  happlnefs,  which  is  a  con- 
"  flitucnt  part  of  our  fenfitive  nature  ;  and  while  it  holds  out 
«  to  us  the  idea  of  ^.vsxo'iiperfeB  harmony,  in  which  liappineTs 

C  «'  and 


i8  HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION. 

«  and  virtue  muft  one  day  be  united  j  it  teaches  us  to  believe 
*'  in  the  exiftence  of  that  Being,  who  alone  can  eflablifh  this 
"  harmony." 

This  imperfe£l  account  will,  at  leaft,  ferve  the  purpofe  of 
Ihewing,  how  this  fyftem^  on  the  one  hand,  fets  limits  to  the 
Scepticifm  of  Hume ;  while  it  refutes  and  overturns  Mate- 
rialifniy  Fatalifm,  Atheifm^  as  well  as  Fanaticifm  and  Infidelity. 
— Kant  does  not  attack  the  dogmatical  procefs  of  reafon  em- 
ployed in  pure  (abftraft)  notions,  but  rather  enjoins  fo  far  a 
more  ftridl  dogmatifm  than  formerly  prevailed,  while  he  raifes 
Metaphyfics  to  the  rank  and  folidity  of  a  fcience  :  he  combats 
that  arrogant  dogmatifm,  which  fets  out  with  its  hypothetical 
notions,  without  previous  enquiries,  whether,  and  how  far 
reafon  is  intitled,  by  its  peculiar  judging  powers,  either  to  ad- 
mit, or  to  rejedt,  thefe  notions.  *'  This  critical  work  of  mine," 
he  fays,  **  is  not  written  with  a  view  of  encouraging  prat- 
"  tling  fhallownefs,  under  the  arrogant  name  of  popularity, 
"  nor  for  the  purpofe  of  fupporting  fcepticifm  which,  as  well 
*'  as  the  former,  is  rather  an  excrefcence,  than  an  ornament  of 
"  the  fciences.  The  Critique  is  the  previous  preparation  for 
**  the  advancement  of  a  well-founded  fyftem  of  Metaphyfics, 
**  as  a  fcience  which,  neceffarily  dogmatical,  and  in  the  ftrift- 
•*  eft  fenfe  fyllematic,  muft  be  formed  according  to  fcientific 
"  rules,  not  merely  adapted  to  the  vulgar." — Upon  Scepticifm, 
its  value,  its  limits,  its  relation  to  the  Critical  Philofophy, 
Kant,  in  another  part  of  his  inquiry,  has  made  excellent  re- 
marks.— Jacob,  another  German  Philofopher,  has  fince,  in  a 
ipore  diredl  and  comprehenfive  manner  than  Kant  himfelf,  em- 
ployed the  Critical  Philofophy  for  the  confutation  of  Scep- 
ticifm in  general,  and  that  of  Hume  in  particular. 

Not  long  after  Kant's  Critique,  there  appeared  a  <work,  by 
an  ingenious  and  liberal  author,  *'  upon  the  dodrine  of  Spi- 
noza, in  Letters  to  Mofes  MendellTohn,  1785^  which  accidental- 

l7» 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION.  19 

ly,  in  many  inftances,  confirmed  the  doftrines  of  the  Critique,   r 
The  author   defined  belief  to  be  immediate  certainty,  which  \ 
required  no  fupport  by  arguments,  fuperfeded  all  proofs,  as  it  - 
refted  upon  a  revelation,  and  contained  the  elements  of  human  I 
knowledge  ;  he  maintained,  that  reafoh  only  leads  to  doubts  \ 
and  errors  in  the  moft  important  objefts  of  thought,  that  Spi-   \ 
nozifm  is  ftill  the  moft  coherent  fyftem  of  reafoning,  but  it  ef-    | 
tablifiies  downright  atheifm ;  and   that  in  general,   according    | 
to  the  expreffion  of  Paschal,  "  Reafon  expofes  the  Dogmatiji 
tojhamdy  and  nature  itfelf  refutes  the  Sceptic ^ — As  little  how- 
ever,   as  his  doftrines  of  belief  agree  with  the  principles   of 
Kant,  fo  much  were  his  opinions,  of  Scepticifm  and  Spinozifm, 
a  ftrong  corroboration  of  Kant's    afl*ertions  ;  that  fpeculativt  \ 
reafon  teaches  us  nothings  with  demonftrative  certainty,  upon  . 
the  exiftence  of  God,  and  the  objedls  beyond  the  world  of  fenfe.  i 
—Soon  after  this,  in  1787,  the  worthy  fon  of  a  truly  philofo- 
phical    father,  Joh.  Albr.   Heinr.  Reimarus  of  Hamburgh^ 
publiflied  a  work  "  upon  the  foundation  of  human  knowledge, 
and  natural  religion,"  in  which  he  examines  the  different  doc- 
trines of  Jacob  and  Kant,  and  which  here  deferves  honourable 
mention,  as  it   contains  many  valuable  hints,  together  with 
happy    illuftrations     of  interefting,  though  abftrufe,  fubjedls. 
In  the  mean  time  Kant's   fyftem,  or  rather  his  elementary 
Propedeutic  for  a  fyftem,  acquired  ftill  greater  reputation,  and 
gained  every  where  friends  notwithftanding  feveral  accidents 
of  fo  ferious  a  nature,  as  to  threaten  its  fubverfion.    The  fyf- 
tem of  Locke,  that  of  Leibnitz,  a  fpecies  of  Eclefticifm,  and 
finally  the  Philofophy  of  Common  Senfe,  were  alternately  op- 
pofed  to  it.  Some  imagined  they  faw  in  it  a  concealed  infidelity  j 
others  an  over  credulous  religious    and  moral    Myjiicifm  ;  a 
third  party  maintained,  that  it  led  to  Scepticifm  ;  and  a  fourth, 
that  it  contained  nothing  new.     All  thefe  obftacles  could  not 
retard  the  rapid  progrefs  it  was  daily  making,  almoft  without 
exception,  in  the  Protcftant  Univerfities  of  Germany  :  in  ma- 

C  a  nj 


ao  HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION. 

nj  of  the  Catholic  [Schools,  too,  it  obtained  decifive  vI£loric^ 
over  the  fyftems  of  Ariftotle  and  Defcartes. 

But  however  much,  from  conviction,  enlightened  minds 
were  inclined  to  befriend  this  philofophj,  yet  with  a  mode- 
rate acquaintance  with  the  hiftory  of  Ethics,  it  was  eafy  to 
forefee,  that  even  Kant's  Syftem,  notwithftanding  all  the  evi- 
dence and  ftrength  of  its  principles,  could  fcarcely  withftand 
the  furious  attacks  of  Pyrrhonifm,  or  rather  the  pyrrhonic 
art,  by  which,  without  difcrimination,  every  thing  is  called 
in  queftion  ;  Mathematics  and  Natural  Philofophy  itfelf  not 
excepted.  Without  doubt,  many  of  the  opponents  of  the  New 
Philofophy,  long  ago  rematked  this  ;  but  they  helitated  to 
make  the  pyrrhonic  experiment  with  Kantianifm  ;  becaufe 
every  other  poffible  fyflem,  that  could  be  fubftituted  in  the 
room  of  the  Critical,  might  in  like  manner  be  rendered  wa- 
vering and  uncertain  ;  and  becaufe  fuch  a  pyrrhonifm,  in  ge- 
neral, either  leads  to  no  end  at  all,  or  it  is  attended  with  con- 
fcquences  detrimental  to  morality  and  happinefs. — Further, 
this  attack  would  only  have  ferved  to  place  the  ftrength  of  the 
fyftem  attacked,  in  a  more  ftriking  point  of  view. — But  a 
more  moderate  fceptlcifm  might  have  been  ealily  and  advan- 
rageoufly  employed  againft  certain  principles  of  the- Critical 
Philofophy,  if  its  opponents  had  been  aware  of  denying,  or 
calling  in  queftion,  fome  fafts  of  confcloufnefs,  to  which  Kant 
neceffarily  appeals.  It  was  not,  therefore,  a  matter  of  fur- 
prife  that,  after  repeated  attacks  in  our  times,  this  fpecies  of 
fceptlcifm  alfo  fliould  be  employed  againft  the  Critical  Philo- 
fophy. 

The  author  of  '*  Aenefidemus,"  or,  on  the  foundation  of  the 
*'  Elements  of  Philofophy,  publiflied  by  Prof.  Reinhold,  in 
•*  Jena  ;  together  wkh  a  defence  of  Scepticifm,  againft  the 
"  pretenfions  of  the  Critical  Philofophers,  1792,"  has  en- 
deavoured tp  prove,  that  the  fceptical  dbftrines  of  Hume  are 

not 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION.  «i 

tiot  in  the  leaft  confuted  by  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reafon.  The 
■work,  here  mentioned,  is  written  with  uncom;non  perfpicuity, 
acutenefs,  and  refped  towards  the  Father  of  the  Critical  Phi- 
lofophy.  The  anonymous  author  directs  his  objedions  againft 
the  chief  pillars  of  Kant's  Syftem,  the  derivation  of  necelTary 
fynthetical  judgments  from  the  mind,  and  the  reference  of 
thefe  to  the  perception  of  empirical  objects.  He  allows,  that 
there  are  neceflary  fynthetical  judgments  in  human  knowledge, 
that  they  form  an  indifpenfible  part  in  it,  and  that  the  neceffity 
which  takes  place  in  the  connection  of  the  predicate  with  the 
fubjeft,  in  thefe  judgments,  can  be  derived  neither  from  pre- 
exiftence,  from  frequent  repetition,  nor  from  the  conformity 
of  a  certain  number  of  fafts.  But  he  maintains,  that,  in  the 
i*  Critique  of  Pure  Reafon,"  the  mind  is  held  out  as  the  real 
ground  of  thefe  necelTary  judgments,  that  from  our  being  able 
to  think  only  of  the  power  of  rej^refentation  (or  conception)  as 
the  foundation  of  neceflary  fynthetical  judgments,  a  conclufion 
is  drawn,  that  the  mind  mitjl  aBually  he  the  foundation  of  thefe. 
Now,  argues  he,  what  Hume  called  in  queflion,  is  here  plain- 
ly taken  for  granted  ;  namely,  ifl,  that  for  every  thing  we  per- 
ceive, there  is  objectively  pre-exifting  a  real  ground,  and  a 
really  diftindt  caufe  of  it,  fo  that  the  pofition  of  the  fuf- 
ficient  ground,  in  general,  depends  not  only  upon  the  reprefen- 
tations  and  their  fubjedtive  aflbciation,  but  dlfo  upon  things  in 
them/elves,  and  their  objective  connexion  :  2dly,  that  we  are 
intilled,  from  the  conftitution  of  a  fomething  in  our  conception, 
to  form  conje^ures  refpefting  the  conftitution  of  that  Some- 
thing without  us — Kant,  continues  this  Sceptic,  has  not  pro, 
yed,  that  our  mind  alone  can  be  the  ground  of  fynthetical 
judgments  ;  for  the  confcioufnefs  of  neceffity,  which  accompa- 
nies thefe  judgments,  is   not  an  infallible  criterion   of  their 

origin  a  priori,  and   from   the  mind That  we  cannot  now 

think  of,  pr  explain  fomething  otherwife  but  in  a  certain  man, 

ner; 


24  HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION. 

ner  ;  this  circumftance  bj  no  means  proves,  that  we  could  not 
have  thought  of  it  in  any  other  way.  Another  origin  of  thefe 
judgments  is  conceivable,  than  from  the  mind  ;  namely,  from 
the  operation  of  real  objefts,  and  their  various  modes  of  af- 
fe£ting  us.  It  might,  therefore,  be  eafily  conceived,  that  re- 
prefentations  and  general  ideas,  which  exift  in  us  a  priori,  are 
ftill  in  another  way  referable  to  real  obje£ls,  than  merely  by 
the  circumftance,  that  they  exhibit  to  us  the  conditions  and 
forms  of  the  objefts.  Thefe  reprefentations  and  ideas  a  priori, 
might  ;aifo  relate  to  the  objedlive  conftitution  of  things  with- 
out tis,  by  means  of  a  pre-eftablifhed  harmony  between  thefe, 
and  the  operations  of  our  underftanding ;  and  agreeably  to 
this  harmony,  fomething  might  be  reprefented  to  the  mind  by 
aneans  of  perceptions  and  general  ideas  a  priori,  which  fhould 
not  only  have  objective  validity  in  our  underftanding,  but  alfo 
correfpond  with  the  conftitutions  of  things  in  themfelves,  and 
be  the  means  of  reprefenting  them. — The  Critical  Philofophy, 
he  adds,  proves  the  origin  of  neceflary  fynthetical  judgmejits 
from  the  mind,  by  making  fuch  ufe  of  the  principle  of  caufa- 
tion,  as  is  contrary  to  its  own  principles  in  the  application  of 
the    Categories ;  whether    we  underftand   by   mind    a  NoU'- 

menojiy  a   thing  in  itfelf,  or  a   tranfcendental  idea To  thefe 

doubts,  feveral  of  which  were  formerly  propofed  by  Flatt 
and  Brastberger,  the  friends  of  the  Critical  Philofophy 
have  already  anfwered.  Whether^the  fcepticifm  of  this  author 
agrees  with  that  of  Hume,'"  whether  it  does  not  contain  in  fome 
refpefts  more,  in  others  lefs  than  the  laft,  I  ftiall  not  venture 
to  determine. 

Plattner,  that  excellent  Anthropologifty  .who,  in  a  rare  in- 
ftance,  to  a  profound  knowledge  of  medicine,  joins  extenfive 
erudition  .in  philofophy,  and  peculiar  penetration,  and  who  de- 
ferves  to  be  ranked  among  the  firft  philofophers  of  Germany, 
has  employed  rational  fcepticifm  againft  the  Kantian  Syftem, 

ia 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION.  '      23 

in  an  elementary  treatife,  defigned  chiefly  for  academical  in- 
ftruftions,  and  has  even  declared  himfelf  in  favour  of  this  mode 
of  thinking  in  general,  with  refpe6l  to  all  philofophical  fub- 
jefts.  *'  Would  not  a  well  underftood  fcepticifm,"  fays 
he  among  other  things,  "  be  the  moft  natural  way  '  to  a- 
*'  void  all  metaphyfical  controverfy,  and  at  the  fame  time  the 
"  moft  rational  means  for  calming  all  dogmatical  and  critical 
**  paffions  ?  What  can  be  our  aim  under  the  titles  of  Logic, 
"  Metaphyfics,  Critic  of  Reafon  ;  what  elfe  can  be  our  objed: 
"  under  the  general  title  of  Philofophy  than,  after  admitting 
"  the  unqueftionable  reality  of  our  reprefentations,  to  Iketch 
"  faithfully  the  hiftory  of  them  ;  and  then  to  prove  what 
•'  is  true  and  certain  with  refpedt  to  them  ;  and  what  in  the 
**  human  mind  (whether  it  be  the  lower,  or  more  exalted  part 
*'  of  it)  carries  the  conviction  of  truth  and  certainty  along 
**  with  it  ?" — ^This  philofopher  wiflies  the  whole. of  his  work 
to  be  confidered  merely  as  xhefuhjeBive  conviction  of  a  Sceptic, 
and  defcribes  the  fceptical  mode  of  thinking  more  accurately 
than  has  been  done  by  any  of  his  predeceflbrs.  In  oppofition  to 
the  Critique  of  Kant,  he  has  ftarted  a  number  of  queftions,  fome 
of  which  are  completely  in  the  fpirit  of  the  old  Pyrrhonifts. 
— Upon  thefe  doubtful  points,  likewife,  anfwers  have  already 
been  publilhed  by  the  friends  of  the  Critical  Syftem.  However 
conclufive  fuch  refutations  may  appear  to  the  party,  on  whofe' 
behalf  they  were  attempted,  it  ftill  remains  to  be  willied, 
though  there  is  now  little  hope  left  for  this  profpeCt,  that  the 
aged  Father  of  Rational  and  Critical  Dogmatifm  may  deign  to 
defend  himfelf  againft  the  attacks  of  Plattner,  and  thofe  of  the 
New  Aenelidemus. 

With   pleafure  I  proceed,  by   oppofing  to    thefe   fceptical 
writings  a  work  written   with  noble  intentions.     Although  it  • 
deviate  in  fome    refpeds  from  the  principles  of  Kant,  yet  it 
fnpports,  [with  energy,  the  truth   and   certainty  of    human 

knowledge. 


44  HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION. 

knowledge,  and  at  the  fame  time  places  the  intereflmg  nature 
of  thefe  quellions  in  a^clear  point  of  view. — The  treatife,  here 
alluded  to,  is  "  On  Truth  and  moral  perfection ;  by  Adam 
Weisiiaupt,  1793." 

All  the  writings  of  Sceptics,  it  is  fincerely  to  be  hoped,  will 
never  totally  deprive  man  of  the  belief  in  objeftive  truth  ;  and 
the  Sceptic  himfelf  will  never  be  capable  of  abandoning  it  com- 
pletely. For  it  is  of  the  utmoft  importance,  that  we  fhould 
admit  fomething  objeftive,  for  the  fake  of  morality  and  reli- 
gion, both  of  which  muft  lofe  their  value,  and  their  exiftence, 
as  foon  as  they  are  confidered  merely  as  fomething  fubjedlive 
and  relative.  Philofophers  ought,  therefore,  rather  to  juftify 
the  belief  in  objeftive  reality,  than  reprefent  to  us,  that  there 
is  no'other  but  fubjedlive  convidlioa,  which  they  hold  out  as 
the  higheft  ftep  of  philofophical  and  confiftent  thought — We 
cannot,  indeed,  proceed  beyond  the  power  of  compreheniion,- 
and  all  conviction  merely  refts  on  our  Hate  of  mind  ;  but 
could  it  be  otherwife  ?— -It  is  fufficient  that,  in  our  confciouf- 
nefs,  clear  traces  are.  given  us  of  objeftive  truth  5  that  it  is 
in  our  power  to  diltinguifh  objedlive  and  fubjeftive  truth  from 
one  another  ;  and  that  from  the  whole  mode  of  our  thought 
and  a£lion,  and  from  the  ideas  of  duty  exalted  above  all  ne- 
ceility,  we  muft  reafonably  zdmit  Jhmething  objeSively  true. 

Philofophical  Scepticifm,  which  is  not  merely  pretended,  or 
•affefted,  and  which  does  hot  flow  from  an  impure  fource,  has 
as  yet  found,  and  ever  will  find,  but  a  few  genuine  fupporters  : 
but  when  it  is  taught  and  extolled  in  writings,  and  in  public 
places  of  inftruCtion,  it  may,  in  a  great  number  of  individuals, 
gradually  produce  a  Ihallow  mode  of  fceptical  realoning,  de- 
ftroy  the  fpirit  of  inquiry,  and  ultimately  promote  immora- 
lity. Perhaps,  Philofophy  would  foon  fall  into  difrepute,  and 
the  public  fpirit  among  mankind,  as  well  as  the  general  utility 
«f  the  learned;  would  fufFer  extr£mely,  were  our  attention  con- 
*  fined 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION.  25 

fined  merely  to  the  defcription  of  the  phenomena  that  occuf 
in  the  mind,  and  to  the  limited  confideration,  of  what  is  fub- 
je6live  alone,  without  placing  any  value  upon  what  is  ob- 
je£live. — It  would  be  rafli  and  irrational,  to  obtrude  our 
maxims,  opinions,  and  conviftions  upon  others  ;  though  eve- 
ry one  wifiies  to  cultivate  what  alone  is  liable  in  us,  our 
reafon  ;  and  to  try  by  gentle  and  fuitable  means,  to  bring  to 
the  clear  confcioufnefs  and  convidion  of  others,  what  our  fair 
and  candid  examination  teaches  us  to  be  uniformly  true  and 
good.  We  wifli  not,  individually,  to  confider  ourfelves  as  in- 
fulated  creatures  that  live,  each  of  us,  in  our  own  world  of 
ideas  ;  but  to  believe,  that  we  all  have  a  claim  upon  a  certain 
number  of  truths,  and  that  it  depends  upon  our  own  exertions, 
to  get  pofleflion  of  thefe. 

In  our  times,  it  might  be  more  dangerous  than  many  ima- 
gine, to  reprefent  the  Scepticifm  of  Hume  as  incontrovertible, 
or  incapable  of  folution  ;  for  the  greater  number  of  fuperficial 
readers  might  thus  be  induced  to  furrender  their  weak  minds 
to  the  moll  dangerous  apathy,  to  fhun  every  mental  exertion, 
to  fearch  for  no  further  difcoveries  in  the  department  of  philo- 
fophy,  and — ^by  gradually  returning  to  the  age  of  barbarifm — 
to  leave  every  thing  in  this  deplorable  fituation,  in  which  they 
themfelves  ultimately  fall  victims  to  infidelity,  or  fanaticifm. 

There  prevails  at  prefent,  in  almoft  every  civilized  country, 
a  very  Ihallow  and  dangerous  fcepticifm,  extending  its  influence 
over  the  moft  important  objects.  It  has  affumed  a  fyftematic 
form,  to  which  people  readily  fubfcribe  ;  becaufe  it  is  more 
difcreet,  and  lefs  intolerable,  than  the  profejfed  mode  of  think- 
ing, which  characterizes  almoft  every  philofophic  fe£t.  This 
fpecies  of  fcepticifm,  in  the  greater  number  of  individu- 
als, aflumes  the  appearance  of  an  indolent  and  irrefolute 
difpofition  of  mind  j  and  in  many,  that  of  a  wild,  fanatical 

D  ficklenef$ 


!25  HISTORICAL   INTRODUCTION. 

ficklenefs  ;  a  ficklenefs,  with  which  one  partj,  bj  way  of  ir-' 
taliation,  ufuallj  reproaches  the  other. 

The  caufes  of  this  fingular  propenfitj,  it  is  not  difficult  to 
trace  :  an  inclination  for  fenfual  indulgence  is  every  where 
ihanifeft  ;  the  intereft  in  pure  intelleBual  truth  is  univerfally 
weakened  ;  the  old  philofophical  and  theological  fyftems  have 
been  fliaken  in  their  foundations,  while  the  new  ones  have  as 
yet  been  able  to  procure  but  little  public  r-eputation. 

Prof.  STiEUDLiN  diflinguilhes  with  accuracy  the  different 
fpecies  of  fcepticifm,  and  he  endeavours  to  afcertain  their  true 
origin. — As  a  fpecimen  of  his  mafterly  method  of  inquiry,  I 
conclude  this  IntroduBion^  with  a  faithful  extract  from  his 
Treatife  "  On  the  Sources  and  Origin  of  Scepticifm." 

**  There  is,"  fays  he,  "  a  certain  kind  of  fcepticifm  which 
deferves  to  be  ftiled  the^Z>z7o/oj&^/rfl!/,  and  which  arifes  near- 
ly in  the  following  manner.  Men  of  vigorous  minds,  in 
whom  a  lively  intereft  for  every  important  truth  is  joined  to 
an  uncommon  degree  of  penetration  and  activity,  begin  to 
think,  and  to  inquire  for  themfelves :  fuch  men  diveft  them- 
felves  of  their  juvenile  opinions  and  prejudices,  at  a  much 
earlier  period  of  life,  than  others.  Their  propenfity  to  pecu- 
liar and  original  ideas  exhibits  every  thing  in  a  fufpicious 
light,  which  formerly,  either  from  mere  cuftom  or  authority, 
had  formed  a  part  of  their  creed.  The  conftant  defire  of  dif- 
covering  truth  ;  the  ftrong  confoioufnefs  of  their  own  powers 
to  fearch  for  it  •,  the  bold  profpeft  of  opening,  perhaps,  new 
views  in  philofophy,  continually  induce  them  to  inquire  into 
every  fource,  from  which  truth  may  be  derived: — thus  they, 
are  impelled  by  a  kind  of  philofopbic  enthufiafm." 

"  That  remarkable  epoch  of  human  life,  in  which  fome- 
times    the  painter,  fometimes  the  poet,  as  if  by  infpiration, 
feels  in  himfelf  the  genius  of  his  art ;  this  epocha  has    been 
frequently  obferved  by  men  whom  nature  had  defigned  for  ce- 
lebrity. 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION.  27 

icbrltj.  The  philofophic  genius,  not  unfrequcntly,  difcovers 
a  fimilar  period,  in  which  the  views  he  directs  to  his  intellec- 
tual nature,  the  manner  in  which  he  refle£ls  upon  the  whole 
created  fabric,  and  the  refearches  he  makes  into  the  writings 
of  the  ancient  philcfophers,  fill  his  mind  with  a  pleafing  anxie- 
ty, with  a  lively  energy,  and  lead  him  to  augur  his  future 
deftiny  :  but  this  exertion  of  evolving  talents  not  rarely  termi- 
nates infcepticifm.  His  mind  trefpalTes  upon  regions  unknown, 
and  far  remote  from  human  conception  ;  he  is  firfl  indued,  and 
that  moft  frequently,  to  Hart  queftions  which,  to  men,  are  al- 
together UHanfwerable.  Unfortunately,  tod,  he  begins  with 
the  mofl  difficult  fubje£ls  of  inquiry  ;  for  the  more  eafy  pro- 
politions  appear  to  him  beneath  his  dignity.  The  latter  he 
treats  with  contempt ;  and  grafping  principally  at  the 
former,  he  is  continually  difappointed  by  the  tranfient  hopes 
of  difcovering  myfteries,  which  lie  concealed  behind  >an  im- 
penetrable gloom.  The  unfuccefsful  efforts  made  upon  that 
which  is  difficult,  foon  render  him  fufpicious  of  what  is 
both  eafy,  and  within  his  horizon.  He  wanders  from  one 
fyftemto  another  iii  order  to  find  the  philofopher's  flone  ; 
(or,  as  it  is  very  forcibly  expreffi^d  in  the  original)  to  folvs 
ths  riddle  of  the  world.  He  alternately  pays  homage  to  the 
different  fyftems,  which  engage  his  attention  ;  fo  that  at  one 
time  the  adherents  of  Locke,  at  another  thofe  of  Leibnitz, 
at  another  thoie  of  Descartes,  and  at  length  thofe  of 
Rousseau  are,  with  him,  the  reprefentatives  of  truth.  Some- 
\  times, ,  he  creates  fyllems  of  his  own  ;  but  they  are  as  quick- 
ly deftroyed,  as  they  were  erefted." 

*'  He  is,  finally,  led  to  invefligate  the  foundation  of  all  hu- 
man knowledge  and  evidence,  as  well  as  to  inquire  into  the 
poffibility  of  an  ohjc6iivc  truth.  Here,  where  he  was  in 
fearch  of  a  certain  refting  point,  a  boifterous  ocean  of  uncer- 
(.aiatie^,  at  once,  appears  in  view.     In  vain  he  attempts,  af- 

D--  ter 


^S  HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION. 

ter  the  moft  accurate  fcrutiny  of  his  intelleftual  powers,  t<> 
difcover  the  general  and  neceflarj  characters  of  truth.  His 
fenfations,  every  where,  appear  to  inform  him  of  things, 
not  in  unifon  with  his  reafon ;  and  upon  the  moll  important 
concerns,  which  infpire  his  heart  with  hopes  and  defires,  his 
reafon  is  filent ;  or  it  torments  him  with  fuch  doubts  and  ap- 
prehenlions,  as  are  fufficient  to  blaft  his  moil  fanguine  ex- 
peftations.  In  vain  he  endeavours  to  reconcile  that  at  leall, 
in  which  the  opinions  of  all  men  coincide,  with  the  general 
characters  of  truth.  With  indignation  he  obferves  the  con- 
tradictory opinions  of  the  greatefl  philofophers  of  all  ages  ; 
with  furprife  he  fees,  how  frequently  he  had  already  imagin- 
ed himfelf  in  the  poffeffion  of  truth  ;  and  how  frequently  he 
had  alfo  been  obliged  to  reje£t  it,  as  illufory.  The  moll  op- 
pofitc  judgments  of  men,  even  in  common  life  ;  the  operation 
of  phyfical  caufes  ;  the  influence  of  the  paffions,  of  authority, 
and  of  the  moll  incidental  circumllances,  as  affecting  thefc 
judgments, — now  excite  the  whole  of  his  ■  attention.  The  ob- 
ferraticn,  that  innumerable  muhitudes  had  from  the  begin- 
ning of  time  lived  happy,  and  found  the  moll  complete  con- 
vidtion  in  fpeculative  fancies  and  errors ;  this  obfervation 
makes  him  defpair  of  difcovering  certainty  in  any  fubjefl 
whatever.  With  a  compaffionate  fmile  he  beholds  the  dog- 
matill,  bold  and  decifive,  proud  and  felf-fufficient,  propofing 
his  opinions,  in  which  he  difcovers  little  more,  than  proofs 
of  ignorance,  or  of  arrogance  and  diffimulation.  At  lall,  he 
forms  the  refolution  of  renouncing  all  difcoveries  tending  to 
ellablilh  abfolute  truth  ;  of  deducing  in  every  inllance  no 
other  than  doubtful  refults  ;  and  of  obtruding  his  judgments 
as  little  upon  any  man,  as  he  would  be  inclined  to  adopt  them 
from  others.  But  as  he  feels  in  himfelf  an  irrefillible  pro- 
penfity.  Hill  to  adopt /oz^f  things,  and  to  lay  down  for  himfelf 

fome  rules  of  conduft,  not  being  able  to  aft  altogether  with- 
out 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION.  ic^ 

entjixed  principles  ;  there  is  no  wonder  that  he  beftows  his  ap- 
probation upon  fome  fentiments  and  judgments  ;  yet  he  does 
this  with  the  conftant  rellridion,  that  thefe  are  by  no  means 
abfolutCf  and  that  they  are  true  only  as  to  himfelfy 

"  The  philofophical  fcepticifm,  the  origin  and  progrefs  of 
which  we  have  here  defcribed,  is,  however,  extremely  rare. 
We  meet  more  frequently,  particularly  in  the  prefent  age, 
with  other  fpecies  of  it,  which  arife  from  very  different  fources, 
and  which  may  with  more  juftice  be  termed  premeditated pyr- 
rhonifmy  or  a  decided  propenfity  of  the  mind  to  univerfal 
doubt." 

**  Scepticifm,  alfo,  frequently  derives  its  oiigin  from  in- 
dolence and  ignorance.  Some  people  acquire  a  fuperficial 
knowledge  of  the  hiflory  of  philofophical  opinions  ;  they  are 
perhaps  informed,  that  there  has  been  a  fet  of  men  who  doubt- 
ed every  thing ;  they  are  fond  of  claiming  the  name  of  philo- 
fophers,  who  are  not  blind  followers  of  others,  and  who  rife 
above  the  common  fet  of  men.  Inftead  of  inftitutiag  profound 
inquiries  into  the  nature  of  the  human  faculties  for  acquiring 
knowledge ;  inftead  of  calmly  and  patiently  comparing  the 
opinions  of  philofophers ;  they  raife  a  hoft  of  doubts  upon 
every  fubjedt,  that  requires  acute  refledlion  :  thus  they  ftudy 
the  art  of  contriving  endlefs  objeftions." 

**  It  is,  indeed,  much  eafter  and  more  convenient  to  frame 
objeftions  againft  every  conclufion,  than  to  draw  the  refult 
from  laborious  refearches,  and  to  defend  this  refult  againft  the 
objeftions  of  others.* — When  a  fubjeft  is  only  in  part  under- 
ftood,  doubts  muft  fpontaneoufly  arife,  which  may  confound 

the 

*  Bayle,  in  his  letter  to  Minuteli.i;  "  Oeuvret  div.  IV.  p.  537."  very 
ju.ftly  remarks :  "  En  vcrite,  il  ne  faut  pas  trouver  etrange,  que  tant  de  gf ns 
"  aient  donne  dans  le  Pyrrhonifme :  car  c'eft  la  chofc  du  monde  la  plus  commode. 
"  Vous  pouvez  impunenxcnt  dlfputer  centre  tous  venans,  ei  fans  craindreccs 
"  arj^umens  ad  hominem,  qui  font  quelque-fois  tant  de  peine.  Vous  craigncz 
^  poLit  la  retorfion ;  puifque  ne  I'outcnant  ricn  vous  abandonnez  dc  boa  coeur  a 

"  tous 


50  HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION. 

the  cleareft  propofition.  Among  this  clafs  of  ignorant  an<! 
fhallow  fceptics,  we  frequently  meet  with  the  ftrangeft  com- 
pounds of  fcepticifm,  credulity  and  dogmatifm.  They  are 
apt  to  believe  the  groflelt  abfurdities,  provided  that  the  ob- 
jefts  be  very  contiguous  tc  their  light,  and  require  no  acute 
inveftigation  :  but  they  entertain  doubts  concerning  the  de- 
Hion/lrative  evidence  of  miathematics,  and  the  reality  of  moral 
law." 

**  Ambition^  a  fondnefs  for  paradoxes  and  novelty,  are,' 
with  many,  the  principal  fprings  of  fcepticifm.  It  is  feme- 
thing  fo  very  uncommon  to  doubt  every  thing  ;  it  difcovers 
fo  much  boldnefs,  fuperiority,  acutenefs  and  liberality,  fo 
much  art,  to  combat  every  opinion  that  enters  into  the  common 
creed.  On  the  other  hand,  it  appears  fo  very  modell,  when 
in  imitation  of  Socrates — the  fceptical  genius  pretends  to 
know  nothing  ;  nay,  he  goes  even  farther,  in  confeffing,  that 
he  is  not  quite  certain  of  this  I  Such  is  his  modefty,  produced 
by  a  ftill  greater  impulfe  of  felf-denial." 

Nil  fciriquifquis  putat,  id  quoque  nefcit 

An  fciri  poffit  quo  fe  nil  fcire  fatetur.  v 

LucRET.  IV.  471. 

^*  It  is  a  peculiar  fatlsfadtion,  to  triumph  over  that  pedan- 
tic dogmatifm,  which  arifes  fometimes  from  ignorance,  fome- 
times  from  an  abundance  of  knowings  but  not  of  real  knowledge. 
It  is  a  pleafing  refleflion,  to  behold  the  ardent  conteft  of  opi- 
nions, and  to  look  on  this  dangerous  and  tempeftuous  paffage 
upon  the  fea  of  human  uncertainties,  with  a  calm,  perhaps  af- 
fefted,  relignation." 

Suave  marl  magno  turbantibus  xquora  ventis 
E  terra  magnum  alterius  fpecSare  laborem, 
Non  quia  vexan  qiicmquam,  eft  jucunda  voluptas, 
Sed  quibus  ipfe  malis  careas,  quia  cerncre  fuave  ell. 

*'  Wc 

• "  tous  les  fophifhies  et  a  tons  les  raifonnemens  de  la  terre  quelque  opinion  que  ce 
"  loit.  En  un  mot  vous  conteftez  et  vous  daubcz  fur  toutes  chofes  tout  votrc 
' '  liaoul,  fans  craindre  de  peine  du  taiion." 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION.  ^x 

*<  We  find,  in  the  records  of  philofophical  hillory,  many 
celebrated  charadlers  who  were  profeffed  fceptics,  and  who,  in 
that  hiftory  ftill  Ihine  as  luminaries  :  though,  by  the  moderns, 
configned  to  obfcurity.  Is  it  not  honourable,  to  rank  among 
men  of  fuch  celebrity  ? — This  atnbitious  fcepticifm,  certainly, 
arifes  from  immoral  fources  :  it  is  produftive  of  frequent 
mifchief,  both  in  the  moral  charafter  of  thofe  who  profefs  it, 
and  of  thofe  who  liften  to  this  deception.  Its  progrefs,  in  the 
prefent  age,  is  very  confiderable. — As  the  modern  fyftem  of 
toleration  is  frequently  the  moll  intolerant,  this  modern  fcep- 
ticifm alfo  frequently  appears  in  the  highcit  degree  fanatical 
and  magiflerial.  By  means  of  this  delufive  art,  men  of  a  cer^ 
tain  dejcription  endeavour  to  render  emery  thing  doubtful^ 
which  is  believed  by  the  generality  of  mankind ;  to  deflroy 
without  mercy,  all  the  antiquated  forms  and  fpecies  of  belief, 
and  to  impofe  upon  us  the  inventions  of  their  own  brain,  in 
the  naoft  infinuating  and  decilive  tone.  Unhappily,  they  find 
cafy  accefs,  through  the  vices  and  paffions  of  man,  fo  that 
great  moral  and  political  revolutions  have  been  frequently  pro- 
duced, in  confequence  of  metaphyfical  fpeculations  which,  at 
finr,  feemed  to  have  little,  orno  influence,  upon  the  pradlice  of 
life." 

"  Avoid  thofe — fays  the  Vicar  of  Savoy  to  the  youtig  man, 
to  whom  he  delivers  his"  confeffion  of  faith — "  who,  under 
*'  the  pretext  of  expounding  nature,  fill  the  heart  of  men  with 
•*  inert  dodlrines,  and  whofe  apparent  fcepticifm  is  infinitely 
**  more  decifive  and  dogmatical,  than  the  pofitive  tone  of  their 
**  adverfaries.  Under  the  ambitious  pretence,  that  they  alone 
*'  are  enlightened,  veracious  and  fincere,  they  imperioufly 
**  fubjedl  us  to  their  deflru£live  decifions,  v/hiie  they  afFe£l 
**  to  communicate  to  us  the  true  principles  of  things,  by* 
*'  means  of  thofe  unintelligible  fyftems  which  are  the  produc- 
"  tions  of  their  own  fancy.    Hence,  they  fubvert,  deflroy,  and 

*'  trample 


32  HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION. 

*«  trample  under  foot,  every  thing  that  is  venerable  to  man 
**  in  fociety  ;  they  deprive  the  affli£led  of  the  lall  comfort  in 
*'  their  calamities  ;  the  rich  and  powerful  of  the  only  bridle 
**  of  their  paffions  ;  they  fnatch  the  flings  of  confcience  from 
**  the  receffes  of  the  heart  ;  their  propitious  hopes  from  the 
**  virtuous  ;  and  withal,  they  ftill  boaft  of  having  been  the 
**  benefactors  of  the  human  race.  Never,  they  fay,  is  truth 
"  pernicious  to  man.  I  believe  this,  as  well  as  they  ;  but 
**  this  very  circumftance  is,  in  eny  opinion,  a  ftrong  proof, 
**  that  their  doctrines  cannot  claim  the  charadler  of  truth." 
^  Luxury  and  degeneracy  of  manners  are  perfedlly  confif- 
tent,  as  well  with  each  other,  as  with  a  partial  illumination 
and  improvement  of  the  mind.  If  we  negledl  to  unfold  the 
mental  faculties ;  if  the  intereft  which  ties  us  to  the  intellec- 
tual and  invilible  (not,  vifionary)  world  gradually  vanilhes ; 
then  this  immoral  and  ftiallow  fcepticifm  eafily  arifes,  and  in- 
fefts  even  numerous  clafles  of  fociety.  It  carries  along  with 
it  the  appearance  of  cultivation  and  enlargement  of  mind  ; 
but,  at  the  fame  time,  it  opens  an  extenfive  field  to  every  fel- 
fifii  defire. 

Legion  is  the  number  of  the  deluded,  who  are  in  fearch  of 
illumination  of  mind,  chiefly  by  difputing  and  cavilling  upon 
clofe  lubjedls  of  intelle6lual  inquiry,.-  which  were  formerly 
held  to  be  mod  true  and  worthy  of  veneration.  Thofe  for- 
tunate travellers,  whofe  objedl,  in  vifiting  the  reputed  Capitals 
of  Europe,was  not  amufement  alone  ;  they  mull  have  the  clear- 
efl  proofs,  how  much  that  fiimfy  mode  of  reafoning  now  pre- 
vails, and  how  certain  it  is,  that  it  arifes  from  the  fourccs 
here  mentioned.  The  authors  of  the  moft  enlightened  nations 
of  Europe  agree  that,  many  new  philofophical  produc- 
tions,  as  they   are   called,  are  nothing    but  the  offspring  of 

this  crude  and  unphilofophical  fcepticifm.* 

Many  , 

*  Vid.  for  inflance  "  Letters  of  Literature,  by  Robert  Hcfon ;  London,  1 785." 
^•a  ftrang  nisdiey  of  undigelted  thoughts. 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION.  33 

Manj  remarkable  events  of  the  prefent  age  may  be  Confi- 
dered  as  the  confequences  of  a  philofophy — without  having 
the  leaft  claim  to  that  dignified  name — which  undermines  the 
pillars  of  every  ufefiil  inftitution,  but  rears  no  fabric  ;  which 
leaves  man  in  a  ftate  of  indolence  and  indifference  with  rdjpedl 
to  his  moft  important  concerns  ;  and  which  converts  him  in- 
to a  fenfual  and  felfilh  being,  that  is  determined  folely  by 
time,  accident,  and  circumftances  j  and  that  is  tofled,  to  and 
fro,  on  this  fea  of  life,  without  a  rudder  or  compafs,  without 
a  fure  rule  for  his  conduft  or  belief,  without  any  fixed  objeft, 
to  which  his  future  profpeds  and  hopes  can  be  rationally  di- 
rected. 

Placed  on  this  ifthmus  of  a  middle  ftate, 
A  being  darkly  wife  and  rudely  great : 
With  too  much  knowledge  for  the  fceptic  fide, 
With  too  much  weaknefs  for  the  Stoics  pride^ 
He  hangs  between  ;  in  doubt  to  a6l,  or  reft  j 
In  doubt  to  deem  himfelf  a  God  or  beaft  j 
•     In  doubt,  his  mind  or  body  to  prefer  ; 
Born  but  to  die,  and  reas'ning  but  to  err  j 
Alike  in  ignorance,  his  reafon  fuch. 
Whether  he  thinks  too  little,  or  too  much  : 
Chaos  of  thought  and  pafilon,  all  confus'd. 
Still  by  himfelf  abusM,  or  difabus'd  ; 
Created  half  to  rife,  and  half  to  fall ; 
Great  lord  of  all  things,  yet  a  prey  to  all  j 
Sole  judge  of  truth,  in  endlefs  error  hurl'd  : 
The  glory,  jeft,  and  riddle  of  the  world. 

Pope. 

E  ELEMENTARY 


ELEMENTARY    VIEW 


OF    THE 


PHILOSOPHY    OF    KANT. 


1 8  e  c<ix-<eSEa»l^^»»« 

Preparatory  Remarks, 

JjEFORE  we  enter  upon  this  arduous  tafk,  it  may  be  of  fome 
importance  to  premife  a  few  neceirary  obfervatlons  on  the  me- 
thod which  has  been  adopted  in  the  execution  of  it ;  and  on 
the  various  obitacles  which  the  ftudent  of  every  new  Syilem, 
particularly  of  Ethics,  muft  unavoidably  encounter. 

It  appeared  to  me,  at  a  very  early  period  of  my  ftudies,  that 
the  principal  diffenlions,  and  fubfequent  divifions  iu  philo- 
fophy,  have  arifi^n  chi^y  from  the  following  obvious  fources. 
— Every  fyilematic  writer  on  fubjeiSls,  which,  from  their  na- 
ture, do  not  admit  of  demonftrative  certainty,  nor  of  any  fuch 
proofs  as  are  manifell  from  oljeBive  reality ^  is  almoll  invo- 
luntarily led  to  employ  new  terms  and  phrafes,  in  order  to 
exprefs  the  different  opinions  he  broaches  among  his  cotem- 
poraries.  It  Is  of  little  confequence  to  himy  whether  the  ideas, 
which  gave  rife  to  thefe  opinions,  be  alfo  new.  For,  though 
the  latter  may  be  already  germinating  in  the  feeds  fown  by  his 
great  predeceflbis,  or  may  only  have  been  differently  explain- 
ed, he  is  equally  certain  of  finding yor^f  adherents,  who  pride 
themfelves  upoa  difcovering  a  new  fenfe,  or  perhaps  a  new  ap- 
plication pf  the  fenfe,  in  which  his  terms,  the  definitions  of 
them,  or  the  fcientitic  divifions,  are  now  more  clearly,  or  more 
obfcurely,  underllood.     This  has  uniformly  h.ppened,  I  could 

almoft 


ELEMENTARY  VIEW,  Sec.  35, 

almoft  fay,  fince  the  beginning  of  philofophical  fpeculations  : 
hence  the  ahfolute  neceffitj  of  giving,  in  every  inftance,  the 
clearefl  pofllble  definitions  of  words,  muft  be  obvious  to  every 
novice  in  philofophy.  But  this  I  confider  as  a  tafk,  xh^Jiri6i 
performance  of  which,  from  the  very  imperfeft  ftate  of  lan- 
guage, has  been  (and  probably  will  never  ccafe  to  be)  on#  of 
the  many  human  dejiderata.  Hence,  the  immortal  Bacon,  when 
the  fame,  or  at  leail  a  limilar  idea  pervaded  his  comprehenfive 
mind,  was  induced  to  exprefs  himfelf  upon  this  fubjeft,  in  the 
following  excellent  words  :  "  Prceterea  ut  bene  /per ent,  Injlau-' 
rationem  nojlram  ut  quiddam  infinitum  et  ultra  mortale  fingant^ 
et  animo  concipiont  j  cum  reverafit  infiniti  erroris  finis  et  ter- 
minus legitimus." 

Were  it,  however,  poflible  to  define  «//  philofophical  terms 
with  that  degree  of  precilion  which  we,  fometimes,  obferve 
in  the  works  of  a  Bacon,  a  Newton,  and  a  Kant  ;  yet  we 
could  alfo  fuggeft  the  remark — a  remaik  which  is  by  no  means 
in  favour  of  human  perfeftion — that,even  thefe  illuftilous  cha- 
radlers,  in  their  own  elementary  works,  not  rarely  deviate 
ffom  the  original,  or  primary,  definitions  of  terms.  Thofe, 
who  are  converfant  in  fpeculative  inquiries,  will  readily,  and 
within  proper  limits,  underftand  this  aflertion  ^  and  fuch  read- 
ers as  might  extend  the  meaning  of  it  further  than  I  am  incli- 
ned to  admit,  I  only  remind  of  the  logical  difficulties  attending 
every  long  demonflration.  It  would,  therefore,  be  rafli  in  the 
extreme  to  charge  thefe  eminent  charadlers  with  incongruity 
of  thought,  or  rcafoning  ;  as  the  more  minute  deviations,  in 
terms,  are  chiefly  owing  to  the  unfettled  ftate  of  language  in 
general ;  and  as  the  very  term,  perfeBiony  when  fpeaking 
of  human  beings  provided  with  human  organs,  is  only  rela- 
tive. 

A  long  and  dear-bought  experience  in  teacliing  has  firft  in- 
duced me  to  entertain  thoughts  upon  this   important  theme, 

E  2  which 


3^  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

which  may  not  find  manj  fupportcrs.  Yet  I  think  myfelf 
juftified  in  afferting,  that  the  moft,  if  not  all,  Syftems  of 
Grammar  and  Rhetoric,  as  well  as  the  Di6lionaries  of  lan- 
guages, are  compiled  upon  mechanical,  wavering  and  un* 
tenable  principles  ;  *  for  they  are,  more  or  lefs,  liable  to  the 
following  ferious  objeftions  : 

ift.  That  the  rules  contained  in  Grammars,  generally  ad- 
mit of  a  greater  number  o£  exceptions,  Xh^n  oi  pojitive  deter- 
minations, 

2d.  That  the  inflexions  of  nouns  and  verbs  are  not  accom- 
modated to  the  etymology  of  words,  but  are  chiefly  taken  from 
analogy  ; — a  circumftance  produftive  of  endlefs  miftakes  and 
confufion  in  the  grammars  of  modern  languages. 

3d.  That  fo  far  from  improving  the  phrafes  and  idioms  of 
languages,  grammarians  feem  to  labour  hard  to  render  them, 
if  poffible,  more  perplexed  and  inconfiftent ;  f — by  daily 
adopting  new  idioms  in  one  language,  which  are  borrowed 
from  another ;  by  ufing  words  in  a  figurative  fenfe,  which 
cannot  be  thus  employed  without  impropriety ;  by  transferring 
words  from  the  phyjlcal  to  the  moral  fenfe,  and  vice  verfa, 
when  there  is  no  other  neceffity  for  this  outrage  upon  good 


*  Whether  the  Elementary  Grammar  of  the  German  Language,  which  I  propofe 
to  puhlifll,  together  with  an  Identical  DiBionary  of  the  German,  Englijb,  French 
and  Latin  languages,  will  be  liable  to  the  charges  which  my  predeceffors  have  in- 
curred, I  am  not  confident  enough  to  aver.  The  Ihort  fpccimen  given  of  the  latter 
at  the  end  of  this  work)  which  accompanies  the  third  "  Effay,  On  the  merits  and 
demerits  of  Johnson's  Englifti  Didlionary,  on  language  in  general,  &c.  by  Ade  ■ 
LUNG,"  will  ferve  as  a  tolerable  criterion  of  the  execution  of  the  whole. 

•|-  If  it  be  objedted,  that  this  is  no  fault  of  Grammarians,  fince  language  is  form- 
ed and  modelled  by  a  whole  people,  I  fliall  briefly'  anfwer ;  that  tradition  and 
cuftom  alone  do  not  appear  to  have  any  fuch  tendency,  as  to  make  a  whole  nation 
fpeak  and  write  jargon,  or  nonfenfe,  for  ever  ;  and  confequently,  that  errors  and 
aiiftake*  ought  not  to  be  perpetuated  in  ekmentary  books  of  inftrudion. 


KANT'S  WORKS.  73 

fenfe^  than  tlie  fancy  or  caprice  of  the  fpeaker,and  fubfequent- 
I7,  that  of  the  writer  *. 

4th.  That  inftead  of  giving  a  fyntax  of  fpeech,  or  fentences 
arranged  in  the  moft  natural  order,  and  ftill  conformable  to 
the  premifes,  as  well  as  to  the  fubfequent  conclufions,  they 
adhere  to  the  oppofite  extieme  ;  by  negle£l:ing  the  general^ 
and  giving  Xh^fpecial  conftru6lion  of  the  individual  parts. — ■ 
This,  indeed,  is  of  itfelf  a  ufeful  piece  of  labour,  if  the  rules 
■were  not  too  jnuch  crowded  upon  the  tyro ;  but  it  by  no  means 
deferves  the  name  of  z  fyntax,  for  its  object  is  merely  the  in- 
flexion of  nouns  and  verbs,  as  preparatory  to  a  Ge?ieral  Syn~ 
tax  f . 

5th.  That  no  Grammarian,  or  Lexicographer,  excepting 
perhaps  Adelung,  has  accurately  and  uniformly  diftinguiflied, 
both  the  moral  and  phyftcal  fenfe  of  words — however  eaCy  this 
may  appear  at  firfl  fight — nor  the  ohjeBive  zxid.  fuhjeBive  ap- 
plication of  terms  and  phrafes  %• 

As 


,  *  This  chaKge  cannot,  in  juftice,  be  levelled  at  the  captivating  efFufions  of 
Poetry ;  an  art  which,  from  its  nature,  and  the  frequent  good  effe<fts  it  produces 
in  roufing,  like  mufic,  the  palGed  organs  of  mortals,  deferves  more  deference,  than 
any  of  the  liberal  arts  ;  as  it  is  likewife  underftood  to  poffefs  a  much  greater  la- 
titude, than  all  the  filler-arts. 

f  Upon  accurate  inveftigation,  it  mufl  flrike  even  the  novice  in  grammar,  that 
there  can  be  only  two  parts  in  the  nature  of  fpeech,  which  being  the  regulators  of 
all  the  Data  involved  in  the  reft,  produce  that  change  of  place,  or  fituation,  which 
we  exprefs  by  the  term  Syntax  :  thefe  two  unqueftionably  are  the  nominative  of 
the  Noun,  with  its  corrcfponding  FerB.— AW  other  parts  of  fpeech  arc,  in  my 
opinion,  liable  to  the  fame  modifications,  or  changes,  which  characterize  a  nu- 
merous progeny,  whofe  father  and  mother  alone  are  liable  and  fixed. 

^  The  immortal  author  of  the  «  Critique  of  Pure  Reafon"  was,  among  the 
Germans,  without  exception  the  firft,  who  perceived  the  abfolute  neceflity  of  this 
diflindlion  in  philofophical  inquiries  — In  juftice  to  the  high  rank  held  by  the 
F.nglifii  5nd  French  philofophers,  however,  I  muft  frankly  own,  (what  I  have,  in 
jrart,  already  declared  in  the  Preface)  that  I  have  not  been  fo  happily  fituated  ss 
IQ  examine,  with  critical  accuracy,  their  refpeftive  iwmendutures.    But  if  I  may 

rtly 


3?  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

As  Kant*s  Critique  of  Pure  Reafon  is  the  principal  ele- 
mentary work,  upon  the  pillars  of  which  the  whole  of  his 
Syftem,  together  with  all  the  works  that  illuftrate  it,  muft 
either  Hand,  or  fall,  we  fliall  firft  explain  its  aim  and  moral 
tendency  J  hy  giving  Kant's  peculiar  definition  and  divifion  of 
philofophy,  accompanied  with  Jive  conneBed  problems ;  and 
in  the  next  place,  it  will  be  ufeful  to  laj  down  the  particular 
contents  of  «//his  works.  The  former  we  ftiaU  exhibit  in  the 
Synopfis  :  *  the  latter  muft  be  the  feeble  eflFort  of  a  literal,  not 
elegant,  tranflation;  and  we  propofe  to  comprife  them  in  the 
fubfequent  Chronological  Analyjis, 


I.  Synopsis. 

A.    Definition  and  Division  of  Philosophy. 

Pbilofophy  is  the  fyftem  of  all  philofophical,  i.  e.  difcurjive 

knowledge  derived  from  bare  ideas,  or  notions This  is  the 

fcholaftic  definition  ;  but,  in  a  cofmological  fenfe,  it  is  the 
fcience  concerning  the  relation  of  all  our  knowledge  to  the 
cflcntial  purpofes  of  human  reafon,  (teleologia  rationis  hu- 
mange)  and  the  philofopher  is  not  an  archited:  of  reafon,  but 
<»  the 


rely  upon  'the  information  of  that  learned  and  fagacidus  pupil,  who  conde- 
fcended  to  tranflate  the  Synoptical   Problems  here  ftated,  with  their  folutions,  as  a 

fpecimen  of  his  progrefs   in  the  German, Dr  Riid,  of  Glafgow,  was  the 

firft  among  the  Britifh  Philol'ophers,  who  diftinguiflied  clearly  between  the  objec~ 
tive  znAfubjeSiive  life  of  the  words,  which  are  employed  to  exprefs  the  immediate 
objedls  oifenfation  zndf  erception. 

*  Originally  digefted  by  Mr  John  SrtiuLzr,  an  eminent  Divine  and  Court- 
Chaplain  at  Kosnigfberg  ;  a  particular  friesd  of  Kant's  who,  on  that  occafion, 
congratulated  him  i^on  having/«//y  entered  into  the  fpirit  of  the  CRiTiqui ;  and 
J)eftowed  upon  him  every  mark  of  approbation. 


KANT'S  WORKS. 


39 


the  law-glver  of  it.     We  cannot,  hence,  learn  philofophy  it- 
felf ;  it  is  philofophizing  which  ought  to  be  our  ftudj. 


I.  Philofophical  Knowledge 

a.)  is  difcurjtvcy  as  derived  from  ideas,  and  oppofed  to  ma- 
thematical intuitive  knowledge,  derived  from  the  con- 
ftrudlion  of  ideas, 
b.)  isjto  be  underftood  objeSiively  : 

I. — as  the  prototype  for  judging  upon  all  the   attempts 

of  philolophizing. 
2. — as  a  bare  idea   of  a  poffible  faience,   which   is  no 
where  given  in  concreto  :  for  where  is  it  ?  who  is  in 
the   pofleffion  of  it  ?  and  bj  what  means  maj  it   be 
diftinguiflied  from  others  ? 
c.)  confiders  particulars  only  in  the  general ;  while  mathe- 
matical knowledge  coniiders   general  fubjedls  in  the  par- 
ticular, nay,  even  in  tlie  individual. — Thofe   who   pre- 
tend, that  quality   is  the  objeft  of  philofophy,   quantity 
the  obje£t  of  mathematics,  have  erroneoufly  adopted  the 
effedt,  inftead  of  the  caufe. 

2.  T\i&  fcholajlic  definition  of  philofophy  denotes  a  fyflem  of 
knowledge,  which  we  puifue  only  with  a  view  of  reducing 
it  to  fcientific  rules,  without  ?ny  other  aim,  than  that  of 
attainingto  a  logical  perfeftion  of  knowledge. — Thus  philo- 
fophy is  merely  confidered  as  one  of  th6fe  arts,  which  may 
be  applied  to  certain  arbitrary  purpofes  ;  and  in  this  fenfe 
the  philofopher  is  an  architeft  of  reafon. 

3.  The  cofmological  idea  of  philofophy  implies  that,  which  ne- 
celTarily  concerns  every  individual. — In  this  view  the  phi- 
lofopher is  the  legiflator  oj  human  reafon. 

4.  Among    the   effcntial  purpofes  of  human  reafon^  one  is  the 

final 


40  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

final   purpofe,  and  this  is    the  complete  deftination  of  tnaf*. 
The  philofophy  which  has  this  purpofe  for  its  object,  is  cal- 
led Ethics.     Hence    the  ancienis   alwajs  underftood  by  the 
name  philofopher,  at   the  fame  time,  and  principally,    the 
Moralift,  the  Stoic,  or  him  who  can  govern  himfelf. 
c.  To  Philofophi%e y  means  to  exercife,  by  certain  plain  expe- 
riments, the   talent  which  reafon  difplays  in  judging  con- 
formably to  its   general   principles. — According  to  Kant's 
Syftem,  philofophy  is  divided  into,  and  confidered  as 
ift.  formal  (methodiczV)  p/jilofophy,  which  concerns  merely 
the  form  of  the  underftanding  and  reafoning  faculties,  as  well 
as  the  general  rules  of  thought,  throughout  independent  of  the 
objefts  :  hence  Logic,   Canon  for  underftanding  and  reafoning. 
2d.  material  philofophy,  fuch    as    is  employed  in  reflecting 
upon  any  one  obje61,  and  again  is 

A.  the  pure,  or  the  philofophy  of  pure  reafon,  which  de- 
pends upon  fundamental  principles  and  notions  a  priori. 
This  is,  ^' 

a.  Propedeutic,  or  Critique,  which  inquires  into  the  fa- 
culty of  reafon  with  refpeft  to  all  its  pure  know- 
ledge a  priori  j 

b.  Mctaphyfics  in  a  more  extenfive  fenfe,  the  fyflem  of 
pure  reafon  ;  or  the  coUeftive  philofophical  know- 
ledge from  pure  reafon,  in  fyftematic  connexion, 
whether  real,  or  imaginary. — This  again  compre- 
hends 

a.)  Metaphyfics  of  Nature  ;  Metaphjrfics  in  a  more 

limited  fenfe,  that  of  the  fpeculative  ufe  of  pure 
reafon,  which  confines  its  inquiries  to  what  ac- 
tually is,  or  exifts.  Its  component  parts  are  the 
following  four  : 

aa.  Ontology y   the  fyflem  of  all  ideas  and  princi- 
ples 


KANT'S  WORKS.  41 

pies,  which  relate  to  fubje£ls  in  general,  with- 
out propofmg  any  obje£ts  of  perception. 
hb.  Rational  Phyfiology y    which  inveiligates    na- 
ture, i.  e.  the    complexus  (compafs)    of  fub- 
jefts  ;  whether  thej  be  exhibited  to  the  fenfes, 
or    to    anj    other     perceptive     faculty.      It 
comprepcnds     ift.   Rational  (not    empirical) 
Phyjicsy  treating  of  material  obje£ls,  and  in- 
cluding every    thing  that  may  be  known  by 
means  of  the  external  fenfes  ; — 2d,    Ratio?ial 
Pfychology^    which  confiders    the    fubje6l   of 
the  internal  fenfe,  mind  ;  and,  according  to  its 
■  fundamental  notions,    the  refledling  capacity 
in  general, 
cc.  Rational  Cofmologyy  which  employs  itfelf  with 
the  internal  combination  of  the  objefts  of  ex- 
perience ;  but   which    proceeds    beyond     the 
poffibility    of   experience  ;  general  hiowledge 
of  the  world,  by  which  nature  is  considered  as 
»n  abfolute  Univerfum. 
ddi  Rational  T^beology,     which    invefligates    the 
conne£lion  fubfifting  between   Nature  and  a 
Supreme  Being, 
b.)  Metaphyjics  of  Morals,  ■  or  the  practical   ufe  of 
pure  reafon,  which  attends  to  the  laws,  according 
to  which  every  thing  happens  in  this,  and  no  o- 
ther,  manner  ; — pure  morals.  Ethics. 
B.  The  experimental,  praBical  Philofophy,  which  is  altoge- 
ther eflablifhed  upon  experience,  and  again  confifls    of 
three  principal  divifions,  viz. 

1.  Phyfics,  the  experimental   doftrine  of  tlie  material 

world. 

2,  Pfychologyy  the  experimental  do6lrine  of  mind. 

F  3. 


^i  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

3.  Jnthropology,    the  pra£lical   doflHne  of  free-a£ling 
man,  derived  from  experience,      j 

Corrolarta, 

1 .  Material  Philofophy  is,  therefore,  divided  like  Mathematics, 
-   into  pure  and  applied  (praftical). 

2.  There  are,  originally,  only  t'uoo  principal  divifions  of  phi- 
lofophy. Logic  and  Metaphyjics  ;  or,  according  to  the  plan 
of  the  ancient  Greeks,  three  j  namely.  Logic y  Phyficsy  and 
Ethics. 


B.  Problems  and  Solutions. 

,  Exordium. 

Tlie  aim  of  Kant's  Critique  is  no  lefs,  than  to  lead  Rcafoii 
to  the  true  knowledge  of  itfelf ;  to  examine  the  titles,  upon 
which  it  founds  the  fuppofed  pofTeflion  of  its  m^etaphyfical 
knowledge,  and  by  means  of  th'is  examination  to  mark  the 
true  limits,  beyond  which  it  cannot  venture  to  fpeculate, 
without  wandering  into  the  empty  region  of  pure  fancy  ; — 
an  attempt,  the  bare  idea  of  which  fufficiently  difcovers  the 
philofophic  fpirit  of  its  author. 

In  order  to  acquire  a  correal  notion  of  the  term  Pure. 
ReafoTiy  we  muft  coiifider  it  in  this  point  of  view. — Every 
aft  of  judgment,  which  is  not  mingled  with  any  heterogeneous 
ingredients,  is  called  pure.  But  particularly  every  piece  of 
comparative  knowledge,  which  is  unmixed  with  any  expe- 
rience, or  fenfation,  and  which  confequently  is  poffible  altoge- 
ther a  priori, defer ves  the  name  oi ahfolutely  pure  ;  v.  g.  Liberty ^ 
Qody  Lmmortulity Reafon,  then,  is  that  faculty,  which  af- 
fords to  us  the  principles  of  comparative  knowledge  a  priori. 

Hence 


KANT'S  WORKS.  ^n 

Hence  pare  reafm  contains  the  principles  of  judging  upon  any 
thing  abfolutcly  a  priori.  The  whole  compafs  of  thofe  prin- 
ciples^ conformably  to  which  all  pure  judgments  a  priori  can 
be  acquired  and  carried  into  effeft,  might  be  called  an  Orga- 
non  of  pure  reafon.— The  whole  Critique  of  pure  reafon, 
therefore,  is  eftabliflied  upon  this  principle,  (not  poJlulatCy 
nor  petitio  principii^  but  the  refult  of  an  appeal  to  aBs  of 
confcioufnefs)  that  there  is  a  free  Keafon  independent  of  nil  eX' 
perience  and  fcnfatioti  *. 

Reafon,  as  the  organ  of  mind  in  concrete,  muft  be  confidered, 
both  fubje£tively,  and  objedively.  SuhjeBive  reafon  is  capable 
of  perpetual  increafe,  by  approximation  to  the  ohjeBive  ftate 
^f  it,  viz.  to  the  perfect  model,  (flandard). 


Problem  FiRst. 


To  determine  the  nature  of  the  Senfitive  Faculty  and  its  di- 
ftinBion  from  Underflanding. 

I.  The  Senfitive  Faculty  confifts  in  the  capacity  of  our  Soul 
to  receive  immediate  reprefentations  of  objects,  merely  froni 
being  affefled  by  them  in  this  or  that  way. 

^.  The  reprefentations,    which  the  Senfitive  fdculty  affords 

to  us,  are  therefore  referred  to  the  obje£t  which  affe£t3  us,  i.  e. 

they  are  Perceptions. 

1^2  3. 


•  Although  M.  Selle,  one  of  Kant's  opponents,  has  endeavoured  to  prove, 
in  an  Eflay  publiftied  in  the  Berlin  Monthly  Magazine,  for  December  1784,  "  that 
there  are  no  pure  ideas  of  the  reafoning  faculty,  independent  of  experience  ;"  yet  I  think 
it  neceflary  to  remind  the  reader,  that  all  fuch  negative  proof,  as  arife  from  the 
ful>Je£ii-ve  convidion  of  an  individual,  fay  as  little  againft  the  validity,  or  liability, 
of  a  philofophical  propofition  vrhich  altogether  depends  on  the  manner  of  exhi- 
biting it  to  the  mind,  as  the  failure  of  converting  the  Turks  and  Jews  to  the 
Chriilian  Religion,  can  furnilh  any  argument  to  the  difadvantage  of  the  latter. 


44  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

3.  All  our  Perceptions  have  a  twofold^  form,  Space  and 
Time,  as  reprefentations  which  relate  to  objefts,  and  which 
are  thenjfelres  Perceptions,  pure  Perceptions  that,  a  priori, 
previous  to  all  a£tual  fenfation,  are  difcoveiable  originally  iti 
tlie  reprefenting  capacity  of  our  Soul,  and  lie  already  at  the 
foundation  of  all  our  actual  fenfations,  as  neceffary  conditions 
of  their  pollibility. 

4.  Hence  Space  and  Time  are  not  fomething  attached  to  ob- 
je6ls  themfelves,  but  mere  fubje6live  reprefentations  in  us. 
The  Being  in  Space  and  Time,  confequently  extenfion,  impe- 
netrability, fucceflion,  change,  motion,  &.c.  are  therefore  not 
qualities  which  belong  to  objects  w/  themfelves,  but  reprefen- 
tations in  our  minds,  which  attach  barely  to  the  nature  of  our 
Senfitive  Faculty.  In  other  words,  the  motion  of  matter  does 
not  produce  reprefentations  in  us,  but  is  itfelf  mere  reprefen- 
tation. 

5.  Hence  alfo  we  know  things  merely  as  they  appear  to  us  ; 
that  is,  we  know  only  the  impreffions  which  they  make  on 
our  Senfitive  Faculty  ;  but  what  they  may  be  in  themfelves, 
and  for  other  reafonable  Beings,  is  altogether  unknown  to  us. 

Problem  Second. 
To  invejligate  the  whole  Jiore  of  original  notions  difcoverahle 
in  our  Underjlanding\  and  which  lie  at  the  foundation  of  all  our 
knowledge  ;  and  at  the  fame  time  to  authenticate  their  true  de^ 
fceiit^  by  fjjowing  that  they  are  not  derived  from  experience^  hut 
are  pure  produBlons  of  the  underflanding. 

1.  The  perceptions  of  objefts  contain,  indeed,  the  matter  of 
knowledge,  but  are  in  themfelves  ^/?W  and  dead,  3.nd-  not 
knowledge  :   and  our  foul  is  merely  paffive  in  regard  to  them. 

2.  If  thefe  perceptions  are  to  furnilh  knowledge,  the  Under- 
flanding muft  think  of  them,  and  this  is  poffible  only  through 

notions   (conceptions),  which  are  the   peculiar  Form  of  our 

Under- 


KANT'S  WORKS.  45 

Underflanding,  in  the  fame  manner,  as  Space  and  time  ate  the 
Form  of  our  Senfitlve  Faculty. 

3.  Thefe  notions  are  adive  reprefentations  of  our  nnder- 
llanding-faculty  ;  and  as  they  regard  immediately  the  percep- 
tions of  obje£ls,  they  refer  to  the  objeds  themfelves  only  me- 
diately. 

4.  They  lie  in  our  Underflanding,  as  pure  notions  a  pri- 
ori, at  the  foundation  of  all  our  knowledge  :  they  are  neceffa- 
ry  forms,  radical  notions,  Categories,  (Predicaments)  of  which 
all  our  knowledge  muft  be  compounded :  and  the  Table  of 
them  follows. 

^lantity  :  Unity,  Plurality,  Totality. 
Quality  :  Reality,  Negation,  Limitation. 
Relation  :  Subftance,  Caufe,  Reciprocation. 
Modality  :  Poflibility,  Exiftence,  Neceffity. 

5.  Now  to  think  zTiA.  to  judge  is  the  fame  thing;  confe- 
quently  every  notion  contains  a  particular  form  of  jndgment 
concerning  objefts  There  are  four  principal  genera  oi Judg- 
ments :  they  are  derived  from  the  above  four  poffible  funftlons 
of  the  Underflanding,  each  of  which  contains  under  it  three 
fpecies^  namely  with  refpedl  to 

Quantity y  they  are  univeffal,  particular,  fingular  '\ 

Quality y    affirmative,  negative,  infinite  I  % 

Relationy  -        —  cathegorical,  hypothetical,  disjunftive  :  I 
Modality y problematical,  affertory,  apodiftlcal    J  ? 

6.  And  thus  not  only  the  whole  power  of  our  underflar.d- 
ing  is  fathomed  out  of  its  own  nature,  and  therefore  per- 
feftly  a  priori  ;  but  alfo,  at  the  fame  time,  the  jpure  defcent  of 
our  notions  from  the  Underflanding  ;  and  their  perfe6l  inde- 
pendence on  all  experience,  is  proved. 

PrPblem  Third. 

Tojhew  in  what  manner  xvc  are  entitled  to  afcribe  ohjeBive 

reality 


46  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

reality   to  thofe  notions^  which  are  merely  fomething  fuhjeSiivt 
in  us  ;  or  in  other  words,  tojhew  how  the  underjlanding  is  juf- 

'  tijied  in  going,  as  it  were,  out  of  itfelf,  and  in  transferring  its 
notions  to  things  which  are  external  to  it,  that  is,  to  refer  theni 
to  obJeBs. 

I .  Space  and  time  are,  as  pure  perceptions  a  priori,  merely 

fuhjeBive  ;  but  2.%  forms  of  our  Senjitive  Faculty,  they  have  a 
neceflary  relation  to  objeds  of  fenfe, — -are  neccffary  Predicates 
of  whatever  can  be  an  objeft  of  fenfation  ;  and  therefore  the 
following  fynthetical  principles  a  priori  are  eftabliflied : 

a.  Every  thing  that  can  be  an  obje<9;  of  our  exernal  fenfesj 
fo  as  to  be  perceived  or  felt,  is  in  Space  ;  and  all  the  pre- 
dicates of  fpace,  extenfion,  divifibility,  &c.  neceffarily  be- 
long to  it. 

b.  Every  thing  that  can  be  an  objedt  of  out  fenfes  in  gene- 
ral, whether  external  or  internal,  is  in  'Time  \  and  there- 
fore, all  the  predicates  of  time,  fimultaneity,  fucceffion,  See. 
alfo  of  necejjity  belong  to  it. 

1.  In  like  manner,  all  pure  notions  a  priori  are,  indeed^ 
fomething  merely  fuhjeBive  in  our  Underflanding ;  but  as 
forms  of  our  Thought  (of  the  Thinking  Faculty),  they  mufl 
likewife  relate  to  all  objedls  of  our  Senfitive  Faculty.  Hence 
the  following  univerfal  fynthetical  maxim,  a  priori,  is  efta- 
.blifhed. 

Every  thing  which  can  be  an  objeft  of  poflible  experi- 
ence, mull  not  only  be  in  Space  and  Time  ;  but  to  it  alfo 
mull  belong  one  of  each  clafs  of  the  pure  notions  of  the  un- 
derftanding. 

3.  Our  notions,  therefore,  receive  relation  to  objecfls,  or 
ohjeElive  reality,  only  through  a  third  mediating  reprefenta- 
tion  a  priori,  which  has  fomething  in  common  with  the  per- 
ception, as  well  as  with  the  notion,  and  by  means  of  which, 
therefore,  the   union  of  the  Notion  with  the  Obje6l  becomes 

pofuble. 


KANT'S  WORKS.  47 

pofTible.     This,  in   reality,  is   Timey   which   Kant  calls  the 
Schema  of  Notions  *  ;  for  it  has  fomething  common  with  ill 

per- 


*  The  Schemata  are  indeterminedfenfualizedreprefentationswhicl^k 
the  imagination  places  under  pure  notions  of  the  Under/landing  j  and 
conformably  to  the  Number  of  the  Categories,  they  maybe  exhibit- 
ed in  the  following  Table  : 

1.  QiiANTiTY,  i.  e.  Series  of  time. 

Number. 

2.  Quality,  i.  e.  things  contained  in  time. 

Reality^  i.  e.  exiftence,  fenfation  in  time,  time  filled. 
Negation,  i.  e.  non-exiftence,  abfence   of  feeling,   va- 
cuum in  time. 
Limitation,  i.  c.  tranfition  from  feeling  through  its  va- 
rious degrees,    till  it  has   vanifhed,  or  vice 
verfa. 

3.  Relation,  i.  c.    arrangement  in  time,  relation  of  feelings  to 

each  other  in  time. 
Suhjlantialiiy,  i,  e.  the  real,  in  fo  far  as  it  is  permanent 

in,  and    with,  time^the  fubftratum  of   all 

changes  :   and  accidents,  i.   c.  the  real  io  fo 

far  as  it  changes. 
Cafiiality,  i.  e.  fucceflion  of  different  feelings  in  time, 

conformably  to  a  rule. 
Community^  i.  c.  fimultancity  of  feeling,  according  to 

rule. 

4.  Modality,!,  e.the   modes,  in  which  an  obj eft  belongs   to 

time. 
Tojfthility,   I.  -e.  the  reprefentation    of  a   thing,  con- 
formably to  the  conditions  of  any  one    time 
~in  general, 
ABuality,  i.  e.  the  reprefentation  of  a  thing,  in  a  de- 
terminate time. 
Necejfity,  i.  e.   the  reprefentation   of  a   thing   at  all 
times. 
-  (Finis) 


48  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  pF ' 

perceptions,  becaufe  it  is  itfelf  a  perception  a  priori,  and  it  has 
fomething  common  with  all  notions  a  priori  ;  becaufe  it  is 
a  Form  of  all  Senfations  and  Reprefentations  a  priori.  The 
uniting  of  a  pure  Notion  with  aa  objeft  is,  therefore,  poffible 
merely  through  time  as  its  Schema. 

4.  Through  means   of  this  Schema,  according  to  the  Table 
given  in  the  preceeding  note,  all  fjnthetical  axioms   may  now 
be  exaftly  deteirniried  a  priori,  and  they  are  the  following  : 
Axiom  of  ^^antity ^  {ox  of  perception).  "  All  phenomena  in 
perception   are  exhibited  under  the  notion  of  exten- 
fion." 
Axiom  of^^uality^   (or    of  the    anticipation    of   obfervation), 
**  In  all  phenomena,  fenfation,  and  the   reality  which 
correfponds  to  it  in  the  objeft,  have  intenjiiie  quantum^ 
or  a  degree  ;  that  is,    evary  reality    can,  through  in- 
finite gradations,  become  lefs  and  lefs,  till  it  be  =  o." 
Axioms  of  Relation,  (or  Analogies  of  experience). 

a.  "  In  all  phenomena   there    is  fomething  perma- 

nent, i.  e.  Subftance ;  and  fomething  fliifting,  or 
accidents." 

b.  Every  event  has  a  caufe. 

c.  All  fubftances,  fo  far  as  they  are  co-exiflent,  fland 
in  reciprocation  with  each  other. 

Axioms  of  Modality,  (or  Poftulates). 

a.  That  which  agrees  with  the  form  of  experience 
(according  to  Perception  and  Notion)  is  poffible 
really,  not  merely  logically. 

b.  That  which  is  connefted  with  the  matter  of  expe- 
rience, i.  e,  with  fenfation,  is  adlual. 

c.  That  which  is  conneded  with  what  is  a6:ual,  a- 
greeably  to  the  univerfal  conditions  of  experience, 
is  (exills)  neceflary. 

Problem 


KANT'S  WORI^.  4f 

Problem  Fourth. 

'To  determine  by  thefe  means  the  true  hounds  of  human  reafotiy 
confequently  to  explain  pojitively^  how  far  our  reafon  can  reach 
through  mere  fpeculation^  where  ;  on  the  contrqryy  our  proper 
knowledge  ceafes,  and  nothing  but  faith  and  hope  remain. 

1.  All  the  elementary  notions,  of  which  our  Underftanding 
is  capable,  are  exaftly  thofe  which  the  foregoing  Table  of 
them  indicates,  fo  that  there  are  neither  more  nor  lefs  of  them 
in  number. 

%.  All  thefe  elementary  notions  are  applicable  merely  to 
fenfible  objefts,  and  hence  they  ferve  only  for  determining  die 
neceffary  predicates  of  every  poffible  perception.  From  this 
the  following  confequences  refult. 

a.  We  caniiot  apply  our  notions  to  the  mofl  perfe£t 
Being  ;  confequently  we  cannot  prove  that  he  has  cxten- 
fion,  or  qualities  ;  that  he  is  a  fubllance,  a  caufe  of  other 
things  ;  that  he  is  poffible  or  a<5tual,  or  neceffary. 

b.  Even  as  to  the  objefts  of  our  fenfitive  faculty,  all  our 
elementary  notions  can  teach  us  none  of  the  predicates  that 
belong  to  them  in  t;Jiemfelves,  that  is,  to  their  Effence  j 
but  all  predicates  which,  through  thefe  notions,  can  be 
afcribed  to  them,  concern  merely  their '^perception,  and  the 
union  of  the  X'^arieties  in  it,  confequently  the -way  merely, 
in  which  they  appear  to  us.  Things  in  refpe<51:  of  what 
they  are  in  them£blves,  are  no  objedls,  either  of  our  fenfes 
or  of  our  underftaading. 

c.  Hence  the  three  cofmological  queftions  are  mere  chi- 
meras, viz.  '  V 

Whether  the  world,  in  point  of  fpace,  be  finite   or  in- 
finite ? 

Whether  it  has  had  a  beginning,  or  has  exifled  from 
eternity  ? 

.       G  Whether 


50  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

Whether  the  number  of  parts,  of  which  matter   con- 
fifts,  be  finite  or  infinite  ? 

d.  But  as  the  undcrftanding  cannot  aflert,  or  prove,  any 
thing  of  objects  that  come  not  under  the  cognizance  of  the 
fenfes,  as  little  can  it  deny,  or  refute  them,  by  any  argu- 
ment that  has  even  the  appearance  of  validity.  And  hence 
arifes  the  (fublim?)  prefuppofition  and  belief  of  a  Supreme 
Being,  and  of  an  immortality  of  the  Soul ;  becaufe  there 
are  certain  neceflfary  purpofes  of  human  nature,  moral 
laws,  which  require  this  prefuppofition. 

e.  Yet  though  we  have  fufllicient  JuhjeBi've  grounds  for 
prefuppofing  and  determining  certain  fuperfenfible  objects  ; 
we  have  not,  through  fuch  grounds,  the  leafl  knowledge, 
how  thefe  objedls  may  be  fconftituted  in  themfelves  ;  but 
we  try  to  determine  them,  only  by  analogy. 

3.  All  the  Synthetical  Axioms  of  our  Underftanding,  by 
means  of  which  we  are  able  to  judge  of  objedls,  are  exaBly 
thofe  which  the  foregoing  Table  of  them  indicates,  and  we 
know,  therefore,  a  priori,  the  whole  foundation  of  all  the 
knowledge  of  which  our  Underftanding  is  capable. 

4.  But  all  thefe  axioms  of  cur  Underftanding  have  objective 
validity,  only  fo  far  as  the  pofiibility  of  experience  depends  on 
them  ;  and  they  ferve  merely  to  determine  the  neceflary  con- 
nexion of  fenfible  things  with  each  other.  It  may  hence  be 
juftly  faid,  that  our  Underftanding,  inftead  of  firft  learning  its 
axioms  from  nature,  rather  through  them,  a  priori,  prefcribes 
laws  to  nature  ;  and  that  on  this  account  it  is  the  true  legijla" 
ture  of  nature y  fo  that,  without  thefe  axioms  of  our  Under- 
i!anding,  all  regularity  and  order  among  the  objefts  of  fenfe, 
confequently  the  pofiibility  of  experience  itfelf,  would  ceafe. 
Hence,  too,  as  foon  as  we  wifli  to  rife  with  the  axioms  of  our 
Underitanding  to  fuperfenfible  objects  beyond  nature,  we  al- 
ways make  an  unjuftifiable  ufe  of  them, 

5- 


KANT'S  WORKS.  51 

■  5.  And  as  oux  Underjlanding  can  neither  form  a  notion  of 
fuperfenfible  obje£ls,  nor  judge  of  them;  as  little  can  our 
Reafon  difcover  by  inference  any  fuperfenfible  objedt ;  confe- 
quently,  no  Syllogifm  can  lead  us  to  new  objefts,  which  lie 
without  the  fphere  of  poffible  experience. 

6.  All  notions  which  our  reafon  can  form  of  fomething,  that 
is  abfolutely  unconditiotiate,  are  therefore  mere  IdeaSy  whofe 
objedive  validity  can  be  proved  through  no  fpecies  of  Syl- 
logifm. 

7.  Hence  the  Axiom,  '*  If  the  conditionate  thing  be  given, 
the  abfolutely  unconditionate  thing  is  alfo  given,"  is  nothing 
but  a  fubje£live  logical  Maxim  of  Reafon,  i.  e.  a  Maxim  which 
regulates  the  train  of  reafoning  in  the  Mind  itfelf. 

8.  As  now  the  whole  of  fpeculative  Cofmology,  Pfychology 
and  Theology  entirely  refts  on  this  Axiom ;  thefe  three  Sciences, 
as  far  as  concerns  their  fpeculative  parts,  are  nothing  but  Syf- 
tems  of  fallacies  *.  Ontology,  alfo,  completely  fails,  and  muft  be 
changed  into  a  bare  Analyfis  of  the  notions  of  our  Underftand- 
ing. — The  whole  body  of  Metaphyfics,  then,  muft  be  confined 
to  the  Metaphyfics  of  Nature. 

Problem  Fifth. 

To  folnje  the  riddle y  why  our  Reafon  is  fo  irrejijiibly  inclined 

to  'Venture  with  its  fpeculations  beyond  the  bounds  of  pojjible 

G  2  knowledge  ; 


•  From  what  is  here  faid,  the  reader  may  be  led  to  fuppofe,  that  Kant  alto- 
gether denies  the  pofliibility  of  proving  the  exiftence  of  a  Supreme  Being,  the  im- 
mortality of  the  Soul,  &c.  This  fuppofition,  however,  would  be  ill-founded ;  for 
Kant  diftindlly  and  repeatedly  admits  the  exiftence  of  thefe  fuperfenfible  ob- 
jccfts ;  but  maintains,  that  we  arrive  at  the  knowledge  of  them  through  a  procefs 
of  pradical,  not  fpeculative,  Reafon.  This  procefs  he  endeavours  to  vindicate  and 
illuftratc,  by  the  moll  appropriate  examples,  in  his  Critique  of  PraSlical  Reafon^  the 
contents  of  which  the  Reader  will  find  in  our  Chronolooical  Anai.tsis. 


5^  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

knowledge  ;  arid  hence  to  deteEi  the  fallacy ^  by   which  it  is  in 
this  rcfpeB  involuntarily  deceived. 

1.  The  ground  of  this  irrefiftible  bias  lies  in  the  nature  of 
of  our  Reafon  itfelf .  Reafon  cannot,  be  fatisfied  with  the  ori- 
ginal Notions  and  Axioms  of  the  Underflanding  alone  ;  but 
through  categorical,  hypothetical  and  disjunftive  conclufions, 
it  attains  to  the  Idea  of  a  fimple  fubftance,  of  an  abfolute 
Univerfum,  of  an  abfolute  exiilent  perfcftion  in  the  number 
of  real  parts  of  matter,  of  an  abfolute  perfection  in  the  feries 
of  caufes,  of  an  abfolute  necelTary  Being,  and  of  a  Subftance 
that  poflefles  all  realities. 

2.  Confequentlj  the  Idea  of  the  abfolutely  unconditionate 
thing  has  indeed  ^^ri^di  fuhjeEiive  validity,  and  is  in  no  man- 
ner an  arbitrary  fidlion  :  Reafon  forces  it  on  us  neceflarily. 
But  hence  it  does  not  follow,  that  this  Idea  has  alfo  objeBive 
validity.  Reafon  commits  a  very  concealed,  indeed,  but  un- 
deniable fophifm,  when  from  mere  Notions  it  forms  the  fyn- 
thetical  Axiom,  *'  that,  if  the  conditionatc  thing  be  given,  fo 
mufl  be  alfo  the  abfolutely  unconditionate." 

3.  As  the  Idea  of  abfolutely  unconditionate  obje£ls  is  in- 
difpenfibly  required  by  our  Reafon,  it  is  very  natural,  that 
even  the  acuteft  philofopher  fhould  not  only  feel  in  himfelf  an 
unavoidable  bias  to  fuch  fallacious  conclufions  ;  but  alfo,  that 
it  mull  be  very  difficult  for  him  to  difencumber  himfelf  froin 
them  completely,  though  lie  be  fortunate  enough  to  difcover 
the  deception. 

Scholion* 

Thus,  tlirough  the  CRiTi<iUE  of  Kant,  all  thefe  five  pro- 
blems, concerning  the  poffibility  and  the  limits  of  pure  rational 
difcoveries,  have  been  thoroughly  folved,  but  in  a  way  which 
perhaps  no  philofopher  had  fuppofed.    According  to  the  refult 

oi 


KANT'S  WORKS.  53 

of  this  Critique y  the  poffibility  of  pure  latlonal  knowledge, 
fuch  as  Metaphyfics  can  furnifh,  has  been  eftabiiihed.  Eut 
that  kncJWledge  extends  no  further,  than  to  the  world  of  fenfe, 
confequentlj  only  to  the  univerfal  and  iieceffary  laws  of  nature. 
A  demonftrably  certain  Syftem  of  Metaphyfics  is  indeed  pof- 
fible,  but  a  very  different  one  from  what  we  have  had  hither- 
to, which,  as  its  name  indicates,  fets  out  with  propofitions  for 
judging  dogmatically   upon   things   difcoverable  beyond    the 

region  of  Phyfics,  i.   e.   without  the  limits   of  Nature. If 

the  principles  above  delineated  be  juft,  the  only  po£ille  Me- 
taphyfics, fo  far  as  we  are  entitled  to  proceed  dogmatically, 
are  the  Metaphyfics  of  Nature — Confequently  the  Critique 
of  Kant  confiders  all  the  Metapnyfical  Syftems,  which  have 
been  hitherto  propofed,  as  falfe  ware,  and  maintains  that  we 
have  as  yet  no  juft  Metaphyfics.  His  own  work  is  important 
and  profound,  and  deferves  to  be  carefully  examined  by  thofe 
who  are  converfant  in  fuch  fludies.  Whatever  the  refult 
of  this  examination  may  be,  philofophy  will  undoubtedly  gaia 
by  it :  aud  although  the  Critique  of  Kant  fhould  not  ftand  the. 
teft  of  future,  perhaps  more  fuccefsful  refearches,  it  will  ne- 
verthelefs  form  a  remarkable  epoch  in  the  hiftory  of  Meta- 
phyfical  Science. 

11.  Chronological  Analysis. 

Exordium, 

In  venturing  upon  this  eflential  part  of  the  Elements,  which 
are  defigned  to  afford  a  concife,  though  comprehenfive  view  of 
the  diverfified  labours  of  Kant,  I  deem  it  a  duty  incumbent 
upon  me  to  ft  ate  that,  both  his  fyftematic  works  *,  as  well  as 

thofe 


*  That  thefe  may  be  more  cafily  diftinguiflicd  from  Others,  I  have   arranged 
Uicm  by  a  fccond  nunibtr  euclofed  in  (    ). 


54 


ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 


thofe  which  treat  upon  general  fubjedls  of  philofoph  j,  are  here 
fuccejjively  fubmitted  to  the  confideration  of  the  reader. 

I  ir\ufl  however  remark  that,  confiftent  with  the  plan  and 
extent  of  thefe  Elements^  the  review  of  fo  great  a  variety  of 
fubjedls  cannot  abound  in  Criticifm ;  but  I  hope  it  w^ill  be 
found  the  more  complete  in  the  analytical  part  of  it,  compre- 
hending emery  fubjeft  *  treated  by  the  illuftrious  author,  during 
a  period  now  exceeding  half  a  century. 

Though  my  abilities — the  limited  compafs  of  which  is  bell 
known  to  myfelf — were  adequate  to  do  the  works  of  Kant 
that  juftice  in  reviewing  them  critically,  to  which  they  are 
certainly  entitled  ;  I  would  ftill  hefitate  to  engage  upon  an 
undertaking,  obviouily  not  the  moll  grateful,  and  in  my  rela- 
tive fituation,  as  a  former  pupil  to  the  mofl.  renowned  Pro- 
feflbr  in  Europe,  perhaps  unbecoming.  Hence  I  ihall  content 
myfelf  with  the  humble  province  of  briefly  commenting  upon 
the  aim  of  every  individual  publication,  and  then  of  exhibiting 
the  contents  of  each  through  a  precife  tranflation. 

The  difficulty  of  underflanding  the  peculiar  terms  and  ex- 
preffions  of  Kant  mull,  I  have  reafon  to  hope,  in  great  mea- 
fure  vanilh ;  if  the  reader,  in  every  inilance,  with  patient  and 
diligent  application,  reforts  to  the  Glojfary. 

In  order  to  chara6lerize  the  early  genius  of  the  author, 
who,  in  the  twenty- fecond  year  of  his  age,  publilhed  an  ElTay 
upon  one  of  the  moil  abflrufe  fubje£ls  of  inquiry,  I  ihall  con- 
clude thefe  preliminaries  with  the  lingular  Motto  prefixed  to 
this  juvenile  production  : 

Nihil 


*  Thofe  ECays,  which  have  not  been  feparately  printed,  andtlic  moft  of  which 
■were  publilhed  in  the  Monthly  Magazine  of  Berlin,  I  could  not  procure  from  Ger- 
many ;  but  I  have  ftill  introduced  them  in  this  review,  merely  for  the  fake  of  com- 
pletensfs,  T.pon  the  authority  of  Prof.  WitL  of  AltJorf  and  Prof.  Sciimid  of  Jw«, 


KANT's  WORKS.  S5 

Nihil  magis  praeftandum  eft,  quam  ne  pecorum  ritu  fequa-. 
Bfiur  antecedentium  gregem,  pergentes,  non  gua  eundum 
eft,  fed  qua  itur. 

Seneca  de  vita  heata  ;  Cap.  I. 


I.  Gedanken  von  der  wahren  Schat%ung  der  lebcndigen 
Krafte. — Refledlions  upon  the  true  computation  of  living 
(moving)  powers.  Konigfberg,  220  pp.  large  8vo.  with 
two  plates,   1746, 

After  having  paid  handforae  and  due  compliments  to  his  me- 
ritorious countrymen  Leibnitz,  Wolf,  Herrmann,  Bernoulli, 
BuLLFiNGER,  and  many  other  eminent  philofophers,  the  young 
author  examines  the  different  theories  and  proofs  advanced  "  on 
the  living  (inherent)  powers  of  bodies,"  and  endeavours  to  (hew, 
that  their  notions  on  this  intricate  fubjeft  were  far  fi;om  being  cor- 
*  re£l,  and  that  the  dilTentions  prevailing  among  them  arofe  chiefly 
from  having,  each  of  them,  confidered  the  fubjedl  in  a  different  point 
of  view.  Thus  their  underftandings  were  mifled  by  paying  an  undue 
regard,  partly  to  the  obftacles  overcome  by  lueigl.t',  partly  to  matter  as 
a£ied  upon,  or  moved,  by  weight  j  partly  to  the  prejjure  fuffered  by 
elqflic  bodies  j  and  finally  to  the  velocities  arijing  from  compound  mo- 
tion.— He  attacks  Leibnitz  moft  feverely,  while  he  enters  upon  a 
fundamental  inquiry  infj  the  origin  of  his  theory  concerning  the  mo- 
ving powers.  It  appears  obvious  to  Kant,  that  Leibnitz  bad  been 
led  to  this  theory,  by  implicitly  proceeding  on  the  known  rule 
from  which  Descartes  explains  the  nature  of  the  lever.  Prior 
to  Leibnitz,  the  world  had  admitted  the  fimple  propofition 
of  Descartes,  "  that  the  mere  velocity  of  bodies,  even  fuch  as  are 
in  adlual  motion,  ferves  as  a  rule  for  afcertaining  their  power." 
But  Leibnitz  fuddenly  roufed  the  reafoning  powers  of  man,  by 
propofing  a  new  law  which,  flnce  that  period,  has  offered  rich 
materials  for  difcuflion  to  the  moft  learned  and  acute.  Descartes 
had  computed  the  powers  of  bodies  in  motion  by  mere  velocity. 
But  Leibnitz  adopted  ihtfjuare  of  velocities  in  this  computation. 

Whateve» 


5^  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

IVJjatever  merit  may  be  due,  from  this  Chronological  Analysis, 
to  the  Recorder  of  Kant's  Collective  Works,  and  from  ha- 
ving engaged  in'  a  tajk — psrhaps  the  mojl  toilfome  in  life  \ — / 
have  flill  to  lament  the  impojjibility,  or  rather  the  impraBicahility 
of  giving  the  refpeBive  contents  of  each  work  at  full  length  ;  efpe- 
cially  when  I  conjider,  both  the  limited fi'ze  of  thefe  Elements,  and 
the  almojl  boundlefs  region  oflLkST''sfpeculations. 

Nothing,  therefore,  but  the  well  founded  hope,  that  no  reafonable 
tnan  will  expeB  to  firfd  in  thefe  Contents  more,  or  lefs,  than  I  have 
promifed, — canfupport  me  in  this  laborious  undertaking.— 

Contents, 

Chapter  First.  Of  the  po-wer  of  bodies ,  in  general.  §  l.  Every  mechanical 
body  pofieires  an  eff^niial  power,  a.  This  power  of  bodies  Leibnitz  expreffed 
by  the  common  name,  effeBive  poiver.  3.  It  ought  to  be  called  -vis  matrix  (moving 
power).  4.  On  the  method  of  explaining  motion  from  the  efFeftive  powers  in 
general  5.  Of  the  difficulties  arifing  from  the  theory  of  reciprocal  operation  of 
body  and  mind,  if  we  attribute  to  the  former  no  other  power,  than  the  vis  motrix. 
6.  Of  the  obftacles  thence  arifing  in  the  explanation  of  the  manner,  in  which  the 
mind  afrc<3:s  the  body ;  of  the  method  of  removing  them,  if  we  adopt  a  common 
vh  aBi'va.  7.  There  may  exift  things,  the  prefence  of  which  cannot  be  at  all  de- 
monftrated.  S.  It  is  not  improbable,  in  a  ftridl  metaphylical  fenfe,that  there  may 
be  more  than  one  world,  9.  If  bodies,  or  fubftances,  had  no  power  to  operate  cxter- 
»a//v,  there  would  be  neither  extenjlon  nor /pace.  10.  The  triplt  dimenfion  of  fpace 
is  probably  derived  from  the  law,  according  to  which  the  powers  of  fubftances  af- 
feft  each  other.  11.  Of  the  condition  which  renders  the  exiftence  of  a  plurality  of 
worlds  probable.  12.  Some  Metaphyficians  maintain,  chat  bodies,  by  means  of  their 
(peculiar)  powers,  incline  towards  motion  in  all  diredlions  13,  14.  Two  objec- 
tions againft  this  opmion  :  a.)  That  the  rfioving  body  does  not  advance  in  an  equal 
ratio  with  the  body  moved ;  b.)  That  tlie  effort  towards  motion,  which  fubftances 
manifeft  in  all  diredlions,  muft  have  a  certain  degree  of  intenfity ;  for  it  cannot  be 
infinite,  and  a  finite  (limited)  exertion,  without  a  certain  degree  of  effort,  involves  a 
contradiction.  15.  Motion  muft  be  confidered  to  be  of  t7.io  different  kinds.  16. 
Motion  o{  ihefif  kind  is  analogous  to  dead  (inert)  prefTure.  17.  18.  19.  Mo- 
tion of  the  fecond  kind  prcfuppofes  a  power,  which  correfponds  with  the  fquare  of 
velocity. 

Chapter  Seco,ND,  Inquiry  into  the  principles  ^  upon  ivhich  the  adherents  rfLzm- 
KiTZ  explain  the' living  poivers.  §  20,  21  Buelfinger's  advice  in  fettling  dif- 
ferences between  par^jes  22  Leibnitz's  and  Di:scam  e»'s  method  of  computing 
powers.    23.  i''/>y?errorof  Leibnitz,  in  aflerting  "ifabody  is  in  adlual  motion, 

it! 


KANT'S  WORKS.  57 

i?s  power  is  equal  to  the  fquare  of  its  velocity."     24.  AAual  motion  is  that,  which 
is  not  merely  at  the  point  of  beginning,  but  during  which  a   certain  time  has 
clapfed.     This  intermediate  time,  between  the  begimiing  of  motion  and  the  mo- 
ment in  which  the  body  moves,  properly  conftitutes  what  is  called  aSiual  motion^ 
35.  Second  error  of  Leibnitz,  "  that  the  time  confumed  during  motion  is  the  true 
and  only  character  of  hving  power,  and  that  from  this  alone  the  difference  of  com- 
puting dead  and  living  powers  muft  refult."     a6.  ^Further  proof  againft  Leibnitz, 
from  the  law  of  continuity.     27.  The  time  elapfed   during  motion,  confequently 
the  reality  of  motion,  is  not  the  true  criterion  of  computing  the  Hying  power  of 
bodies.     a8,  29.  iVIathematics  cannot  prove  the  reality   of  living  powers.     30. 
Leibnitz  was  firft  mifled  in  the  computation  of  living  powers,  by  Defcartes's  ex- 
planation of  the  lever.    31.  Herrmann's  affertion,  that  the  powers  are  in  pro- 
portion to  the  heights,  to  which  they  may  rife.    3z.  Refutation  of  this  affertion. 
33.  The  followers  of  Defcartes  commit  the  fame  error.     34,  ^s.  Lichtscheid's 
doubts  upon  this  head  removed.    36.  37.  38.  An  inftance  which  proves,  that  in 
the  computation  of  power  arifing  from  weight,  time  muft  be  neceffarily  taken  in- 
to account.     39.  Summary  of  all  the  proofs  derived  from  the  motion  of  elaftic 
bodies.     40.  The  Leibnitzians  refute  their  own  conjedlures,  through  the  Syftems 
of   Mechanics   which  they  eftablifh.     41.    Herrmann's    ftatement,     refpeding 
the  repulfion    of  three  elaftic  bodies,   examined.    4a,  43.   The   origin  of  the 
fallacy  .in  the  reafoning,  by  which  he  eftablilhed  his    concliifion.     44.  This 
condufion  was  unknown  to  Mad.  de  Chastelet.  4^,  46,  47.  Jurin's  objedlion 
concerning  the  reciprocal  pulfion  of  two  elaftic  and  unequalbodies ; — Bernouilli's 
anfwer  to  this  objeiftion,  in  comparing  it  with  the  preffure  fuffered  by  elaftic  bo- 
dies ; — his  ideas  on  the  fubjed;  are  refuted  by  his  oitin  premifes,  which  con- 
firm Kant's  opinion.     48.  Defence  of  the  living  powers,  fupported  by  the  con- 
ilant  balance  of  power  in  the  world.     49,  50.  Two  different  ways  of  explaining 
this  affertion.    51.  The  fource  of  Leibnitz's  hypothefis  relative  to  the  preferva- 
tion  of  a  uniform  power,  with  propofals  for  fettling  this  controverfy,  and  a  con- 
clufive  anfwer  to  bis  affertion.    53.  According  to  the  law  eftabliftied  by  Leib- 
nitz, the  power  exercifed  in  the  touch,  between  a  fmall  and  a  larger  elaftic 
body,  is  the  fame  before  as  after  this  contaft.    5$.  The  fallacy  of  this  obfervation 
itfelf  refutes  the  theory  of  the  living  powers,  as  maintained  by  the  Leibnitzians. 
54.  Tliis  appears  ftill  more  obvious,  by  inverting  the  cafe ;  if,  namely,  a  lirgcr 
elaftic  body  is  brought  into  contadl  with  a  fmaller  one.    jj.  Calculation  affords 
proofs  of  the  Cartefian  law,  that  "  if  a  larger  body  touches  a  fmaller  one,  there  re- 
mains an  equal  proportion  of  power."     56.  The  power,  with  which  a  fmaller  bo- 
dy recoils  from  a  larger  one,  is  called  minus.     57.  Mad.  de  Chastelet  has  very 
improperly  ridiculed  this  determination,  which  M.  de   Mairan  firft  propofed. 
58.  The  Leibnitzians  fhrink   from  the  inquiry    into  the  living  powers,  by  means 
of  the  pulfion  obferved  in  untlajlic  bodies.    59.  The  latter  is  more  dccifive  in  de- 
termining the  living  powers,  than  the  refiftance  of  elaftic  bodies.    60,  6j.    Ths 
Leibnitzians  give  a  frivolous  anfwer  to  thefe  objetftions,  by  faying,  that  "  in  the 
repulfion  of  unelaftic  bodies,  one  half  of  the  power  is  confumed  in  the  imprefiion 

H  made 


58  ELEMENTARY  VIE'W  OF 

made  upon  the  parts  of  thefe  bodies."  6a.  Reply  firfl :  becaufe  this  is  a  mechanf 
cal,  not  a   mathematical  cfFeA  of  bodies.     63.  Reply  ftcond :  becaufe  we  have 
right  to  call  a  body  unelaftic,  tho'  it  be  perfedly  hard.     64.  Reply  third:  the  im- 
preffion  made  upon  the  parts,  offers  no  argument  for  afferting,  that  a  part  of  the 
power  of  unelaftic  bodies  is  Ifift;  by  the  refiftance  exerted  on  their  fide.     65.  ^'t- 
f\y  fourth;  the  degree  ofhardnefs  in  unelaftic  bodies,  and  the  degree  of  power 
exerted  in  the  contaA,  muft  yet  be  determined  by  the  Leibnitzians.     66.  The  re- 
Hftance  of  unelaftic  bodies  entirely  deftroys'the   living  powers.     67 — 70.  (General 
proof,  that  the  concuftion  of  elaftic  bodies  muft,  in  every  inftance,  evince  the  fal- 
fity  of  fuppofing  living  powers  ; — that  in  the  percuflion  of  elaftic  bodies  v/e  oaght 
to  confider  only  the  Incipient  velocity  of  the  hodj  percn  feJ.     71=77.  Examina- 
tion of  the  proofs  of  the  living  powers  derived  from    compound  motion  :  particu- 
larly BuEi  finger's,  which  is  refuted  in  feveral  ways.     78.  The  ftraight  power  irf 
the  diagonal  line  does  not  correfpond  with  the  amount  of  power  exerted  towards 
the  latei"al  parts.     79.  In  the  computation  of  power  by  Lkibnit7.,  the  amount  of 
it,  in  an  oblique  dircftion,  is  equal  to  the  diagon:.!  power  ;  but  in  that  by  Descar- 
tes., the  former  frequently  is  infinitely  greater  than  the  latter.     80=83.  A  newr 
cafe  towards  the  refutation  of  living  powers;  viz.  "  that  a  body  moving  in- a 
circle  produces  the  fame  effecSl,  with  refpeft  to  gravity,  as  if  it  reclined  upon  an 
obliqtie  furface^j- — and  that   a  circular  moving  body,  in  every  finite  nieafure  of 
riOTf,  produces  the  efteffl;  of  a  finite /low^r,  even  againft    the  obftacle  s  of  ^;vjt»/*)'. 
84.  Descartes  removes  this  difficulty  by  his  method  of  computing  power.     85. 
Another  contradi<Sion  in  this  computation   by  the  fquare  ;  for  every  one  agrees 
"  that  the  computed  power  of  velocity  refulting  from  the  multiplication  with  it- 
felf,  according  to  the  right  angle,  muft  have  infinitely  more  force,  than  that  which 
i«  fimply  exprefi'ed  by  the,  meafure  of  velocity;  and  that  it  has  the  fonic  relation 
to  this,  as  the  furface  has  to  the  line."     86.  The  cafe  ftated  by  Bernooilli, 
concerning  the  elajiic  ^ower  of  /our  fimilar  fprings,  is  here  refuted.     87=90. 
Mairan's  objedion  againft  the  ftafement  of  Herrmann;  the  utility  of  the  me- 
thod adopted  by  the   former  ;  its  tendency  to   prevent  certain  palpable  miftakes, 
which  haye  long  remained  concealed.     91.  Buklfinger's  diftinclions,  by  which 
he  endeavours   to  elude  the  objetSlion  of  Mairan,  are  fettled  by  this   method. 
92,^3.  A  fingular  compound  cafe  by  Leibnitz,  which  refts  upon   fallacious 
reafpning.  ■* 

•'  As  Bernouji-li,  Htrrsiann  and  Wolf,  the  admirers  of  Leibnitz,  have 
"  not,  in  the  ufual  m.anner,  informed  us — that  nothing  equals  this  proof- in  point  of 
"  invention  and  (apj)arent)  ftrength.— I  am  inclined  to  think, '  fays  Kant,'  that 
"  fo  great  a  man  as  Leieniti  could  not  err,  without  gaining  reputation  by  the 
i'  very  idea,  that  miflcd  hun  into'this  error."  I  cannot,  upon  this  occafion,  forget 
"  the  words  of  Hector  iii  Virgil  : 

Si  Pergama  dextra 

Defend;  poffent,  ctiani  hac  defcnfa  fuiffent. 

Virg.  AennJ, 
94,9;.  The  power,  which  the  body  A  has  acquired  liy  the  arrangenoent  of » 

machine 


KANT'S  WORKS.  59 

«>achine,-is  not  the  effcdl  of  power  produced  by  the  body  B.  96.  The  fame  is  con- 
firmed from  the  law  of  continuity.    97.  The  whole  extent  of  the  fujjicient  tea/on  in 
tlic  preceding  poQtion.     98.  The  only  difficulty,  that  ftill  preyails  in  the  Leib- 
nitzian  argument,  is  anfwered.  99.  Papin's  evafive  objeftion  is  weak  and  unte- 
nable, viz.  "  ^omodo  autem  fer  tranjlationtm  totius  pvtentia   corporis  A  in  corpus  B, 
■uxia  Cartejium,  oLtineri  pujpt  motus  perpetuus  cuijentijfims  dtmonjlrat,  atque  ita  Carte" 
fianos  ad  abfurdum  reduBos  arhitratur.     Ego  autt-m  et  ixoiutn  perpetuum   abfurdum  ej^e 
faleor,  tt  CI.   Fir.  demonjlrationem    ex  fuppofsta  tranjlatione  ijfe  legitimam.'^     And  af- 
ter having,  in  ihii  pojti-ve  manner,  declared  himfelf  again  ft  that  important  pofition 
of  Descartes,  he  fcelts  for  flielter,  in  difputing  the  premifes  of  his  adverfary ; 
and  in  challenging  him,  to  folve  this  Gordian  knot.    The  following  words  difcover 
his  opinion  :   Scd   Hypothefts  ipfius  pojjihililatem   tranjlationis  nimirum  toiius  potentije 
/■x  corf  ore  A    iH  corpus   B  pernego,  etc.  fA^.  Erudit.  1691.   page  9  )— IOO=IOI. 
Leibnitz's  reply  to  Papin  is  equally   inconfiflent,  and  Ka n  r  believesthat  the 
former  has  written  thefe  words  in  good  earneft :  "  Cum  Florentla  effem,  dedi  amlco 
mliam  adhnc  demonjlrationem,  pro  pojjibiltiate  tranjlationis  virium  dctalium,    tjfc.  coipon 
majore  ii>  minus  quiefcens, prorfus  ajfinem  iis  ipfis,  quo  CI,  Papinus  ingenuujijfime  pro  mt 
juvaadi  e}'XOgita-bit,pro  qui ''us  gratias  dcbeo,  imo  et  ago,Jinccritatc  ejus  digitus. "—l?rooi, 
that  a  quadruple  body  may  communicate  to  a  fmgle  body  four  degrees  of  velocity 
by  means  of  percuflioh  upon  a  lever  ; — how  Pa  pin  ought  to  have  reafoned  againfl 
i-EiBNiTz  ;  all  the  arguments  for  proving  the  entity  of  living  powers  againft  the 
computation  of  Defcartes  have  failed  ;  no  hopes  are  left  to   to  reconcile  them. 
\Q%.  The   principal  arguments  of  the  Leibnitzians  refuted    103,  104.  WoLr'g 
argument,  and  his  principal  axiom  :  «'  if  a  body  has  jsiffed  through  the  fame  ip-^Xv.-, 
it  has  alfo  produced  the  fame  innocuous  ejf^d."     105.  Another  a:ujm  of  the  JVol- 
fan   Scbediafma  :  "  As   fpaces  (objects   of  fpace),  in  the  a>ft  of  uniform,  motion, 
bear  a  compound  relation  to  the  velocities  and   times  ;  fo  the  innocuous  eJeSis  cor- 
refpond  with  the  mafl'es,  times,  and  velocities  of  bodies."  Upon  thisa.'ciom,  Wolb 
eflabliflies  the  following   erroneous  theorem :   Aiiiones  quiuxs  idem  ejfeBus  prcdw 
eitur-, flint  et  celerilaia.     lofr.  We  are  not  yet  in  the  pofl>;llion  of  a  Syftm  of  Bynw 
micks,     107,  108.  The  argument  of  MuscSenukoeK  examined;     109.  Anew 
cafe  for  ihe  confirmation  of  the  Cartefian  method  of  computing  powers,     no. 
The  doubts  of  Leibnitz  folvtd  by  Jurin.     in,  112.  Mad.de  Chaftelet's  frivo- 
lous ol)je<Slion  againft  Jurin's  argument  expofed.     113.    Richier's    objetftions 
fliare  the  fame  fate. — The  author  concludes  this  Chapter  withfomc  fupplemcntary 
notes  and  illuftrations,  in   which  he  unfolds  the  following  particulars  :    (a)  Why 
the  undetermined  idea  of  fiiiite  time,  alfo  includes   the  portion  of  time  inlinitcljf 
fniall  ?  (b)  Leibnitz's  mpthed  of  computing  powers  cannot  even  be  admitted  mi- 
der  the  condition  of  finite  (limited)  velocity,     (c)   Why  time  muft  nccellarily  en- 
ter into  the  computation  of  the  obltacles  occafioned  by  gravity. 

CllAPTIrll  'i'niKD.  A  -vieit)  of  a  neiv  Atcfbod  of  computing  tie  living  poiv.^ls ;  ii- 
ing  ^e  iPtly  tnti  miafure  of  natural po-uits.-^—^  1 14.  That  kw,  which  has  been  fooad 
inapplicable  in  Mathematics,  may  neverthclefs  apply  to  Natural  Philofophy.  iij. 
piftiUiSliw  bfi^ween  mathematical  itiA  natural  bodies,  and  between  the  la'vvs  relative 

Hi  to 


6o  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

to  both.  ii6.  Velocity  affords  no  juft  idea  of  power,    117.  There  would  be  no 
jiowcr,  if  there  were  no  effort  to  preferve  the Jlatus  in  fe ;  illuftration  of  the  idea 
oiinUnfion.     1 18.  If  intenfion  be  comparable  with  a  point,  power  refembles  a' 
line,  namely  that  of  velocity.     119.  If  intenfion  be   finite,  i.  e.  like  a  line, /"otf^r  is 
comparable  With  ^fqi'are.     no.  A  body,  that  manifefts  an  internal  effort  to  pre- 
ferve its  motion  free  and  conftant,  has  a  power  analagous  to  the  fquare  of  velocity. 
xti.  A  body  cannot  acquire  its  living  power  from  without.     122.  There  is  an 
infinite  number   of  intermediate  degrees  between    dead  and  living  power  ; — the 
latter  can  arife  or'y  in  a  finite  time,  after  the  beginning  of  motion.     123.  That 
flate,  in  which  the  power  of  bodies  is  not  yet  li-ving  (evolved^,,  but  is  in  a  pro- 
greflive  crifis,  Kant  terms  the  i)i-vification.     124, 125.  According  to  a  new  eftima- 
,tion  of  powers,  a  body  that  preferves  its  velocity,  in  free  motion,  in  infinitum  undi- 
miniflied,  poffeffes  living  power,  i.  e.  fuch  a  power  as  can  be  edimated  by  the  fquare 
of  velocity.  126.  As  there  are  free  motions,  there  are  likewife  living  powers. — Ma- 
thematics admit  no  free  motions.     127.  Aneafier  method  of  applying  thefe  re- 
flcdtions  to  advantage.     128.  Bernocilli  was  not  unacquainted  with  thefe  ideas, 
"    fis  vii)a,"_  fays  he,  "  i:/l  aliquid  reaU  et  fubjlantiale,  quod  per  fefubjijlit,  et  quantum 
in  fetji,  non  dtpindit  ab  alio  :  — -— — — ^—  Vis  mortua  neii  efl  aliquid  abfolutumet 
perfedurdns,  S<.c.    129*.  The  living  powers  are  of  an  accidental  nature.  '130,131. 
Experience    confirms  the  ixxcctSivt-vivif cation.     132,  133.  Vivification  is  not  ap- 
plicable to   all  velocities  in  general ; — application  of  this  rule  to  motion,  in   a  re- 
fifting  medium.  134, 135.  Whether  vivification  and  free  motion,  in  all  the  higher 
degrees  of  velocity,  are  poffible /■«  infinitum.     136 — 138.  The   living  power  may 
in  part  vanifh,  without  having  produced  any  effeft.     139,  140.  The  phenomena 
of  thofe  bodies  which  overcome  gravity,  neither  manrfeft  any  living  power,  nor 
do  they  militate  againft  it.     141.  Soft  bodies  do  not  operate  with  their  colledive 
power.     142,  143.  Query :  whether  the  effed  of  bodies,  without  diftindlion,  is 
proportional  to  the  mafs  of  their  living  power.     144,  145.  The  mafs,  ia  which  a 
body  can   produce  effedls  proportional  to  its  living  power,  muft  be  determined ; 
fmaller  maffes,  under  a  certain  fize,  cannot  produce  that  effect.     146,  147.  Fluid 
bodies  operate  in  proportion  to  the  fquare  of  velocity.     148 — rji.  ■■  The  motions 
of  elalUc  bodies  are  inconfiflent  with  the  computation  of  Leibnitz,  but  they  agree 
with  that  of  Kant.     152,  I53.  Mechanical  proof  of  the  living  powers,  by  Mus- 
CHENBRbEK.  154,  155.  A  fpririg   of  equal  elafticity  comniunicates  a  greater  de- 
gree of  power  to  a  larger  body  than  to  a  fmalier  one.     156 — 158.  Whence  the 
fquares  of  velocities  of  cylinders  are  in  an  inverfe  ratio  to  the  maffes.     I59 — 161. 
In  the  effe<S  of  gravity,  time  ought  te  be  com.puted ; — ^foft  fubftances  are  of  a  very 
different  nature.     162.  The  force  of  refiftancc  of  foft  matter  takes  place  with  finite 
velocity; 

p.  Allgemeine  Naturgefchichtej  oder  'Theorie  des  Himmels, 
nach  Newtonifcben  Grundsdtzen.  A  general  hiflory  of  na- 
ture, or  theory  of  the  heavens,  upon  Newtonian  principles. 
8vo.  Koenigjberg.  1 755. 


KANT'S  WORKS.  §t 

yil.  Principiorum  metaphyjicorum  nova  dilucidatio.  4to.  1 755. 
iV.  Dijfertatio  de  principiis  primis  cognitionis  humance.     410. 
Regiomonti'   1755. 

V.  Monadologia  phyjzca.  4to.  1756. 

VI.  Ge/chicbte    der  merkwurdigsten  Vorfdlle    des  Krdhehens, 
welches  am  Ende  des  1755  sten  ^ahres  einen  grojjen  'Theil  der. 

Erde  erfch'iittert  hat Hiftorj  of  the  moft  remarkable  e- 

vents  produced  by  the  earthquake,  which  convulfed  a  great 
part  of  the  globe,  towards  the  end  of  the  year  1755.  4to. 
Koenigsbe7-g,  1756. 

VJI.  Neuer  Lehrhe griff  der  Bewegung  und  Ruhe^  und  der  da~ 
mit  verknupften  Erfahrungen  in  der  Naturiviffcnfchaft. — 
New  theory  of  motion  and  reft,  together  with  an  account  of 
the  experiments  relative  to  them  in  Natural  Philofophy, 
4to.  Koenigsherg.     1758. 

VIII.  Betrachtungen  uber  den  Optimifmus Reflexions  upon 

Optjmifm.  4to.  1759. 

IX.  Entwurf  und  Ankilndigung  eines  Collegii  der  phyjljchen 
G  eographie,  nehjl  einer  Unterjuchung :  oh  die  Wejlwinde  in 
vnjern  Gegenden  darum  feucht  Jind,  weil  Jie  iiher  ein  grojfes 
Mee^Jlreichen  ? — A  iketch  and  annunciation  of  a  courfe  of 
lectures  on  phyfical  geography  ;  together  with  an  inquiry 
whether  the  wefterly  winds  are  for  this  reafon  moid  in  our 
climate,  becaufe  they  blow  over  a  great  fea,  4to.  Koenigs- 
herg.   1739. 

X.  Eriveis  der  falfchcn  Spit^findigkcit  der  vier  fyllogijlifchen 
Figuren. — ^"riie  fali'e  fubtleties  of  the  four  fyllogiftical  figures 
proved.  8vo.  1762. 
^I.  Verjuchy  den  Be  griff  der  negativen  Groffcn  in  die  tVe/f- 
iveijheit  einzufiihren, — An  attempt  towards  introducing  the 
idea  of  negative  magnitudes  into  philofophy.  1763. 
^I.  Einzig  moglicher  Beweisgrund   "zu    einer   Demonjiration 

des 


6»  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

des  Dafeyns  Gottes.     The  only  poflible  method  of  proving 
the  exiftence  of  the  Deity.     8vo.  Koenigjberg.  \']6'^. 

XIII.  Beobachtungen  iiber  das  Gefiibl  des  Schbnen  und  Erhu' 
bcnen.  Obfervations  upon  the  effedl  of  the  Beautiful  and 
Sublime.     8vo.  Koenigsberg.  1764.     2d  Edit.  1:770. 

XIV.  Traume  eines  Geisterfehers,  erldut^rt  durch  Trdume  der 
Metaphyfik.  Dreams  of  a  Fanatic,  illuftrated  by  dreams  in 
Metaphyiics.  8vo,  1764. 

XV.  Abhandlung  iib^r  die  Evident  in  Metaphyjischen  Wijfen' 
Jchaften  ;  die  bey  der  Koffiglicben  Akademie   der  Wijfenjchaf- 

ten  das  AcceJJit  erhalten  haty  und  mit  Mofes  Mendelfohri's 
Preifschrift  viugleich  erfchienen  iji.  A  Treatife  on  Evidence 
in  Metaphyfical  Sciences,  &.C.  ^vo.  Berlin.   1764. 

XVI.  AtiTnerkungen  %iir  Erlduterung  der  Theorie  der  VVinde. 
Remarks  ferving  to  illuflrate  the  theory  of  the  winds.  4to. 

1765- 

Of  thefe  work*,  the  reader  will  fcarcely  require  a  detailed  ac^ 
count  J  for  the  mod  of  them,  though  feveral  times  reprinted,  have 
become  very  fcarce.  They  are  indeed,  in  feme  degree,  conne6led 
with  the  following  fyftematic  works  of  the  author  j  but  as  Pro- 
feffor  Kant  has  not  llriftly  adopted  that  method  of  deinonftration, 
which  he^/y?  propofed  in  the  publication  ftated  under  No.  XII. 
viz.  **  The  only  poflible  method  of  proving  the  exiftence  of  the 
!Peity,"  I  confide^ed  it  as  an  unprofitable  talk  to  tranflate  the  In- 
dexes belong^g  to  thefe  refpc^live  works  j  though  it  were  in  my 
power  to  procure  them  from  Germany.  For  the  fame  reafon,  I 
prefume,  Mr.  Nitsch  has  remarked  in  his  late  excellent  publica- 
tion, "  A  general  and  introductory  view  of  Prof.  Kant's  principles 
concerning  man,  the  world,  and  the  Deity  j"  that  the  work  above 
alluded  to,  No.  XII,  does  not  conftitute  any  part  of  the  Kantean 
Syftem,  as  the  firft  edition  of  it  was  publiftied  ten  years(^  or  from 
the  firft  Edition  of  it,  eighteen  years)  before  that  fyftem  was  com- 
pleted. 

XVII.  (1)    De    Mundi  fenj%ilis  at  que   intelligibilis  forma  et 
principiis.     Diflertatio   pro   loco  profeffionis  Log.  et   Me- 

taph. 


KANT'S  WORKS.  6^§ 

tapli.  ordinaria;   rite  fibi '  vindicando ;  quam    exlgentibus 

ftatutis  academicis    publice   tuebitur    Immanuel  Kant 

Regiomonti ;  in  auditori   maximo,  horis   matutinis  et  po- 
meridianis  confuetis  j  Die  XX.  Aug.  MDCCLXX. 

Sectio  I.  De  notione  mundigeneraUm.-~-M.oment9y  in  mundi  de- 
finitione  attendenda,  hsc  funt :  i  Materia  (^in  scnfu  tranfcenden- 
tali)  h.  e.  partes,  quae  hie  fumuntur  effe  fubjlantice.  2.  Forma 
quae  confiftit  in  fubHiantiarum  coordinatiotie,  non  fubordinatione.  3. 
Univerjitas  quae  eft  omnitudo  compartium  abfoluta. 

Sectio  II.  De  fenfibilium  atque  inteUigibilium  dlfcrimine  getter a- 
tim. — Senfualitas  eft  receplivitas  fubjefti,  per  quam  poflibilc  eft,  ut 
ftatus  ipfius  repraefentativus  objedi  alicujus  przfentia  certo  modo 
afficiatur.  IntclHgentia  (rationalitas)  eft  facultas  fubjefti,  per 
quam,  quae  in  fenfus  ipfius  per  qualitaterft  fuam,  incurrere  non  pof- 
funt,  fibi  repraefentare  valet. 

Sectio  III.  Depr'incipiis  formce  MunJtfenJibilis.—Del^zu?o%.z. 
7.  Idea  Temporis  non  oritur  {t^fupponitur  a  fenfibus.  2.  Idea  Tetn- 
poris  eft  Jingularis,  non  generalis  :  Tempus  eriim  quodlibet  noa 
cogitatur,  nifl  tanquam  pars  unius  ejufdem  temporis  immenfi.  3. 
Idea  itaque  temporis  eft  intuJtus^  et  quoniam  ante  omnem  fenfa- 
tionem  concipitur,  tanquam  conditio  refpcftuum  in  fenfibilibus  ob- 
viorum,  eft  intuitus,  non  fenfualis,  (edpurus.  4.  Tempus  t&quan- 
turn  continuum  et  legum  continui  in  mutationibus  univerfi  princl- 
pium.  5.  TcmpUi  non  eji  objeBimim  aliquid  et  reale,  nee  fubftantia, 
nee  accidens,  nee  reiatio,  fed  fubje£tiva  conditio  per  naturam  men- 
tis hvtmanae  neceffaria,  quaelibet  fenfibilia,  certa  lege  fibi  coordinan- 
di,  et  intuitus  purus,  6.  Tempus  eft  conceptus  veriflimus,  et,  per 
omnia  pofflbilia  fenfuura  objefta,  in  infinitum  patens,  intuitivae  re- 
prasfentationis  conditio.  7.  Tempus  liAqne  t^  principium  formale 
Mundi  fenjibilis  abfoiute  primum. — -De  Spatio.  A.  Conceptus 
fpatii  non  abftrahitur  a  fenfationibus  externis.  B.  Conceptus  fpa- 
tii  eft  fingularis  reprefentatio  omnia  in  fe  comprehendens,  Ron/ub 
fe  continens  notio  abftrarfta  et  communis.  C.  Conceptus  fpatii 
itaque  eft  intuitus  purus  j  cum  lit  conceptus  fingularis,  fenfationi- 
bus non  coniiatus,  fed  omnis  fenfationis  externae  forma  fundamen- 
talis.  D.  Spatium  non  ejl  aliquid  objeElivi  et  realis,  nee  fubftan- 
tia, nee  accidens,  nee  reiatio  j  fed  fiAbjedivum  et  idcale  et  a  ua- 

tura 


64  '  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

tura  mentis  flabili  lege  proficifccns,  veluti  fchenia,  omnia  ommnO 

externe  fcnfa  fibi  coordinandi.     E.  Qaanquam  conceptus  f^atii^  ut 

obje6livI  alicujus  et  realis  entis  vel  afFeftionis,  fit  imaginarius,  ni- 

hilo  tamcn  fecius,  refpeBive   ad fenjibiha  quceciinque^  non  folum  eft 

veri^mus,ic6.  etomnis  vetitatis  in  fenfualitate  externa  fundamentum. 

Sectio  IV.  De principioformce  mundi  intelligib'dls. 

SECtio  V»  Dc   tnslhodo  circa  fen jitiva  et   intelleBualia  in    Meia^ 

phyficis. 

Concerning  the  lad    two  Se(rTions,    I  cannot  omit  mcntioningj 
that   an  abftraft  of  them  could  not  be  rendered  intelligible  to  th? 
reader,  without  ftating  likewife  the  illuftrations  of  the  different  po- 
iltions,  at   full  length.     Of   this   detail,    the  prefent  fketch   will 
not  admit  \  efpecially   as  the  principles,  refulting  from  the  difqui- 
fitions  contained  in  thefe  two  Seftions,hai'e  been  already  expound- 
ed in  the  ^x;^/)ro^/£';«j-,  which   conftitute    the  principal  part  of  the 
prefent  Elements  j   and  which,  I    have  reafon  to  hope,   will  afford 
a  comprehenlive,  though  fuccindl,  view  of  Kant's  Critique. — No 
further  apology  will  be  required  by  the  learned,  that  the  preceding 
extraft  from  the  author's  Inaugural  Di/lertation  has  been  given  in 
his  own  words,  in  the  original  Latin }  for,  to  tranfiate  this  into 
Englifh,  might  be  confidered  as  an  infult  offered  to  the  literati  of 
this  country. — V^ith    ref  lecEt  to  the    fubfequent  works,  it  muft  be 
remembered,   that  our  objcdl  is  merely  to  exhibit  the  contents  of 
thofe,  which  could  be  procured  from  Germany,  during  the  limited 
intercourfe   with  that  country,  and  to  define  the  mofi:  difficult  and 
abftrufe  terms  in  tire  Glojfury,  which  concludes  this  publication. 

XVIIL  (2)  Kr'itik  der  reinen  Vernunft.  Critique  of  Pure 
Reafon.  Svo.  Kiga.  1781.  Second  Edition  improved,  17S7. 
Third  Edition  1790.  Fourth  Edition,  1794.  pp.  884,  and. 
xliv  pages  Preface. 

Table  of  Contents. 

Introduction.  I.  Of  the  diftinclion  between  pure  and  empliicai 
knowledge.  II.  We  are  in  the  poffeffion  of  certain  intuitions 
(truths)  a  priori,  and  even  common  fenfe  never  is  without  them. 
III.  Philofophy  demands  a  fcience,  which  may  determine  the  pof- 
fibility,  the   principles,   and  the  extent  of  our  intui'aons  a  /'■/':"•/. 

IV- 


KANT'S  WORKS.  65 

IV.  Of  the  diflinftlon  between  analytical  and  fynthetical  judg- 
ments. V.  In  all  the  theoretical  fciences  of  reafoning  we  meet 
with  fynthetical  judgments  a  priori,  which  are  contained  in  them 
as  principles.  VI.  General  problem  of  Pure  Reafon.  VII.  Plan 
and  divifion  of  a  particular  fclence,  under  the  name  of  a  Critique 
of  Pure  reafon. 

I.  Transcendental  elementary  Doctrine.  Part  I.  Tranfcen- 

dental  Aefthetic.  SeSi.  I.  Of  fpace.  II.  Of  time Part  II.  Tran- 

fcendental  Logic.  Introd.  J)efinitIon  of  tranfcendental  Logic,  r. 
Of  Logic  in  general.  2.  Of  tranfcendental  Logic.  3.  Of  the 
divifion  of  general  Logic,  into  Analyfis  and  DIale61ic.'  4.  Of  the 
divifion  of  tranfcendental  Logic,  into  tranfcendental  Analyfis  and 
Dialedlic. 

Division  I.   Tranfcendental  AnalyJis.-—'EooY;,  I.  Analyfis  of  no- 
tions. Chap.  I.  Of  the    method  of  difcovering  all  purely  intellec- 
tual notions.     Se£1. 1.  Of  the  ufe  of  Logic  in  general.     II.  Of  the 
logical  funftlon  of  the  intelled,  in  judgments.     III.   Of  the  pure- 
ly intelleftual  notions  or  Categories.     Chap,  II.  Of  the  dedu^flion 
of  the  purely  intelleftual  notions.     Se6i.  I.  Of  the  principles  of  4 
tranfcendental  dcdu61ion   in  general.     II.  Tranfcendental  deduc* 
tion  of  the  purely  intelle61ual   notions.     Book.   II.  Analyfis  of 
principles  (tranfcendental  doftrine  of  the  judging  faculty). — Irf. 
trod.  Of  the  tranfcendental  judging  faculty  in  general.  Chap.  I.  Of 
the  fchema  of  the  pure  notions  of  the  int'ellcft.     II.  Syftem  of  all 
the  principles  of  the  pure  intellect.     SeB.  I.  Of  the  fupreme  prin- 
ciple of  all  analytical  judgments.     II.  Of  the  fupreme  principle 
of  all  fynthetical  judgments.     III.     Syftematic  exhibition   of  al| 
fynthetical  principles  of  the  pure  intelleft.     i.  Axioms   of  per- 
ception.    2.    Anticipations    of    apperception    (obfcrvation).     3. 
Analogies  of  experience,  a.)  The  principle  of  continuity  of  fub- 
ftance.     b.)  The  principle  of  fucceflion  in  time,     c.)  The  princi- 
ple of  coexiflence. — 4.  Poftulates  of  empirical  thought  in  general. 
Chap.  I.  Of  the  ground  of  diftln^llon  between  all  objefls  in  gene- 
ral, into  phenomena  and  noumena. — Of  the  ambiguity  arifing  in  the 
ideas  of  refleftion,  by  confounding  the  empirical  ufe  of  the  intel- 
left with  thatof  the  tranfcendental. 
DiTisiON  II.  Tranfcendental  Diale^ic,    l>itrod.  I,  Of  tranfcen- 

I  dcnta'^ 


66  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

(qfental  illufion.     II.  Of  Pure   Reafon  being   the  feat  of  tranfcen- 
dental   illufion.     a.)  Of  Reafon  in  general,     b.)   Of  the  logical 
ufe  of  reafon.     c.)  Of  the  pure  ufe  of  reafon.     Book  I.  Of  the 
■    notions  afforded   by  Pure  Reafon.     Se6i.  I.  Of  ideas  in  general. 
II.  Of  tranfcenuental  ideas.     III.  Syftem  of  tranfcendental  ideas. 
Book  II.  Of  the  dialeftic  conclufions  of  Pure  Reafon.  Chflp.  I.  Of 
the  faife  cQncluiions  of  Pure  Reafon,  refpefting  their  form  {para- 
Lgifmi).  Of  the  antinomy  of  Pure  Reafon.     Se£i.  I.  Syftem  of  the 
cofmological  ideas.     II.  Antithefis  of  Pure  Reafon.     Ill,  Of  the 
intereft  of  reafon  in  this  conteft  with  itfelf.     IV.  Of  the  tranfceo- 
dental  problems  of  Pure  Reafon,  in  fo  far  as  they  muft  neceffarily 
be  folvcd.     V.   Sceptical  exhibition  of  the  cofmological  queftions, 
through  all  four  tranfcendental  ideas.     VI.   Tranfccndental  Idea- 
lifm,  being  the  key  to  the  folution  of  cofmological  Diale£lic.  VIT. 
Critical   deciiion  of  the  cofmological  conteft,   into  which  reafon 
falls  with  itfelf.    VIII.  Regulative  principle  of  Pure  Reafon,  with 
rcfpeft  to  the   cofnKilogical  ideas.     IX.  Of  the  empirical  ufe  of 
the  regulative  principle  of  reafon,  with  refpeft  to  all  cofmological 
ideas. — I.  Solution  of  the  cofmological  idea  refpefting  the  totali- 
ty of  the  compofition  of  the  phenomena  of  a  whole  univerfe.     2. 
Solution  of  the  cpfmological  idea  refpefting  the  totality  of  divifion 
f»f  a  given  Tyhole  in  perception. — Concluding  remark  on  the  folu- 
tion of  the   tranfcendental    ideas   in   Mathematics  j  and  previous 
remark  on  the    folution  of  the  tranfcendental  ideas  in  Dynamics. 
3.   Solution  of  the  cofmological  ideas  refpedling  the  totality  of  de- 
riving the  events    of  the  world  from  their  caufes. — On   the  pof- 
iibility  of  caufaliiy  by  the    idea  of  liberty,  as   combined  with  the 
general  law  of  phyfical  neceffity.i — Illuftration  of  the  cofmological 
idea  of  a  liberty,  that  is  connecled  with  the  general  laws  of  pliyfi- 
cal  neceffity.     4.  Solution  of  the  cofmological  idea  refpe6ling  the 
totality    of  the  dependence  of  the  phenomena,   according  to  the 
veality  of  their  exiftence  in  general.     Chap.  III.  The  Prototype  of 
Pure  Reafon,  i.  e.  an  idea  of  reafon  in  concreto.    Seel.  I.  Of  the 
prototype  in  general.     II.  Of  the  tranfcendental  prototype.    III. 
Of  the  arguments  of  fpeculative  reafon,  to  conclude  the  exiftence 
of  a   higheft  Being.     IV.  Of  the  impofiibility  of   an    ontological 
proof  of  th?  ejcifteuce  of  God.     V.  Of  the  irnpofllbility  of  a  cof- 
mological 


KANT'S  WORKS.  6^ 

tnological  proof  of  the  exiftence  of  God.  VI.  Of  the  impoflibility 
of  a  phyfico-theological  proof.  VII.  Critique  of  all  Theology 
from  fpeculative  principles  of  reafon. — -Of  the  final  purpofe  of  the 
natural  Dialeftic  of  human  reafon. 

II.  Transcendental  DocTrink  of  Method.  CBa/».  I.  The  Dlf- 
clpline  of  Pure  Reafon.  Se^.  I.  With  refpe£l  to  its  dogmatical 
ufe.  IL  With  refpeft  to  its  polemical  ufe.  III.  With  refpe6l 
to  its  hypothefes.  IV.  With  refpeft  to  its  pioofs.  Cha/>.  II.  The 
Canon  of  Pure  Reafon.  St'SI.  I.  Of  the  ultimate  purpofe  of  the 
pure  ufe  of  Reafon.  II.  Of  the  prototype  of  the  higheft  good,  as 
being  the  fundamental  caufe  of  determining  the  ultimate  purpofe  of 
pure  reafon.  Ill,  On  the  exprefiionS,  *'  to  be  of  opinion  j  to 
know  J  and  to  believe."  Cbap.  III.  Of  the  Architeflonic  of  Pure 
Reafon.     Cbn/t.  IV.  The  hiftory  of  Pure  Reafon. 

Although  we  have  already  given  the  fubftance  of  this  work  in 
the  Prob/emr,  which  ate  exhibited  in  the  foregoing  part  of  ihefe 
Elements  ;  yet  in  a  matter  of  fuch  importance  as  the  ptefcnt  at- 
tempt of  Kant  aftually  is,  we  do  not  hefitate  to  infert  here  ano- 
ther expofition  of  his  principles^  fo  that  the  reader  may  acquire  a 
complete  analytical  view  of  their  origin; 

In  order  to  trace  the  principles  of  all  human  knowledge  and 
judgment,  froni  what  fource  both  may  arife,  Kant  deemed  it  in- 
cumbent upon  the  enquirer,  to  inftitute  an  accurate  analyiis  of  the 
intuitive  faculty  of  man.  The  chief  objedl:  of  this  inquiry  was,  i, 
to  fcparate  the  notion  we  have  of  the  intuitive f acuity ^  from  all  other 
notions  connefted  with  it  j  2,  to  lay  afide,  or  to  abftraftfroraj  the 
concomitant  and  accidental  characters  of  it,  and  to  retain  in  this 
notion  merely  thofe  charafters^  without  which  no  intuitive  faculty 
can  at  all  be  conceived  :  thus  he  obtained  a  general  notion  of  the 
intuitive  faculty  of  man,  i.  e.  fuch  as  conQlls  of  no  foreign 
ingredients.  This  faculty  is  the  attribute  of  every  man,  it  is  given 
him  in  his  own  perfonal  confcioufnefs,  and  the  reality  of  it  cannot 
be  proved  otherwife  than  by  an  appeal  to  this  confcioufnefs. 
The  exiftence  of  fuch  a  fiiculty  has  never  been  called  in  queftioo, 
it  is  granted  by  all  parties,  and  hence  it  is  to  be  confidered  as  a 
fair  point,  from  which  the  philofopher  may  begin  his  inquiries. — 
To  premife  a  UeHniiion  of  the  intuitive  faculty,  is  by  no  means  ne- 

I  3  ceffary  j 


(58  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

ccffaryj  for  its  reality  will  be  fufficiently  proved,  If  the  con- 
Aituent  parts  and  cnarafters  produced  of  it,  be  of  fuch  a  nature  as 
can  be  difcovered  in  every  individual,  who  has  the  requifite  capa- 
city and  inclination  of  reflefting  upon  the  fucceffive  operations  of 
his  mind.  Of  infinitely  greater  inoportance  we  ftiall  find  the  cor»- 
j'lete  analyfis  of  this  faculty  ;  fince  the  definition  of  fomething, 
the  truth  of  which  cannot  be  difcovered  otherwife  than  by  the 
preceding  operation,  can  be  of  no  pofitive  advantage. 

Kant  ferioufly  difcovered,  that  the  intuitive  faculty  of  man  is  a 
compound  of  very  diflimllar  ingredients  j  or,  in  other  words,  that 
it  confifts  ef  parts  very  different  in  their  nature,  andeach  of  which 
performs  funftions  peculiar  to  itfelf  j  namely  the  Senfitive  Faculty^ 
and  the  Under/landing.  The  former  reprcfents  the  matter  of  things, 
fo  as  it  is  affe£ted  by  them  ;  the  latter  connefts  the  variety  of 
thefe  materials  into  a  whole.  Thefe  two  operations  muft  always' 
j>tecede,  if  there  fliall  take  place  a  reprefcntation  or  intuition  of  a 
detcrtained  object.  Both,  therefore,  are  cffentlal  conftituents  of 
the  intuitive  faculty  of  m^n,  and  both  muft  be  aftive,  at  the  fame 
<ime,  in  every  intmiion. 

Leibnitt;,  indeed,  had  likewife  remarked  the  diftlnftion  fubfifting 
between  the  Senfitive  Faculty  and  the  Underftanding  j  but  he  en- 
tirely overlooked  the  effential  difference  between  their  funftions, 
:ind  was  of  opinion,  that  both  faculties  were  different  from  one 
another  only  in  degree,  while  he  fuppofed  the  Senfitive  Faculty 
to  be  only  a  weaker  degree  of  the  Intuitive,  which,  when  opera- 
ting in  a  flronger  degree,  was  called  the  Underftanding  :  both,  ac- 
cording to  him,  rcprefented  the  fame  objefts,  fave  that  the  Senfitive 
Faculty  exhibited  thofe  obje£ls  in  a  confufed  and  obfcure  manner, 
which  the  Underftandipg  precifely  and  clearly  apprehended.  Eut 
this  diftin^lioa  is  altogether  falfe  and  yfithout  foundation.  The 
Underftanding,  as  far  as  we  can  explore  this  faculty,  ftill  remains, 
even  in  its  weakeft  d-egree,  effentially  different  from  the  Senfitive 
Faculty,  and  the  moft  pcrfeft  functions  of  the  latter  can  never  fup- 
j..]y  the  functions  of  the  Underftanding.  For,  while  the  fenfes  re  • 
■'cive  the  matter  of  the  objedls,  the  Underftanding  combines  the 
variety  in  that  matter,  and  forms  a  determined  reprefcntation  of 
-;i  objeft,  or  an  intuition.  The  former  may  reci.ive  clear  or  ob- 
fcure 


,       KANT'S  WORKS.  dp 

fcure  impreffions  j  the  latter  may  alfo  combine  In  a  diftinft  or  con* 
fufed  manner.  Clearncfs  and  obfcurity,  diftinftnefs  and  confufion, 
may,  therefore,  be  common  to  both  j  nay,  what  is  clearly  per- 
ceived by  the  fenfes,'  may  yet  be  obfcurely  apprehended  by  the 
Underftanding ;  and  what  the  former  exhibit  in  z  confufed  and  ob- 
fcure  manner,  may  neverthelefs  be  very  clearly  coriceived  by  the 
latter.  The  Underftanding  may  even  form  a  clear  notion  of  things, 
that  never  can  become  obje£ls  of  fenfe  j  and  vice  verfa,  the  fenfes 
may  perceive  things,  which  the  underftanding  cannot  reprefent, 
cither  clearly  or  obfcurely  j  although  it  is  impoflible  to  have  an 
intuition  of  any  one  objcft,  unlefs  both  facuUies  are  aSively  con- 
cerned in  the  fame  obje(9t.  For  inftance,  to  think  of  God,  liberty, 
virtue,  and  immortality,  cannot  yet  be  called  to  recagnife  or  to 
have  an  intuition  of  the  objeils,  different  from  their  ideas  5  and 
to  perceive  fpaccs  and  times,  and  fenfible  objefls  of  all  kinds,  can 
likevrrfe  not  be  faid  to  have  intuitions  of  them.  For,  to  acquire 
the  latter,  we  muft  reduce  the  objedls  to  ideas,  and  combine  them 
according  to  certain  laws.  The  fenfes  can  do  nothing  further 
than  perceive,  i.  e.  reprefcnt  the  given  thing  immediately ;  and 
tha  underftanding  only  can  think  of  it,  i.  e.  combine  the  thing  per-* 
ccived,  or  exhibit  the  given  thing  by  mediately  connedling  it  into 
one.  The  reality  of  the  obje(5l,  that  is  conceived  by  us  in  an  idea, 
can  be  reprefented  only  by  the  fenfes,  fince  the  objeft  itfelf  is  ei- 
ther perceived  through  the  fenfation  occafioned  by  it,  or  it  muft 
neceffarity  be  combined  with  any  one  perception,  according  to  the 
laws  of  pofiible  experience. 

In  the  works  of  the  Englifh  and  French  phllofophers,  we  find 
this  cffential  diftinftion  between  the  fenfitive  and  the  intelleSual 
faculties,  and  their  combination  toivards  producing  one  fynthetlcal 
intuition,  fcarcely  mentioned.  Locke  only  alludes  to  the  acciden- 
tal limitations  of  both  faculties  ^  but  to  inquire  Into  the  eiTential 
difference  prevailing  between  them,  does  not  at  all  occur  to  him. 
It  is,  however,  obvious,  that  from  this  negle£l  there  have  arifen 
many  fallacious  conclufions,  which  for  a  long  time,  at  leaft  inlheir 
confequences,  have  been  hurtful  to  found  philofophy. 

This  diftin£lion  then,  between  the  fenfitive  and  intelleftual  fa- 
£ulti6s,  forms  an  effential  feature  in  the  philofophy  of  Kant ;  it  is 

.  the 


70  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

tte  bafis,  upon  which  the  moft  of  the  fubfequent  Inquiries  are  efla- 
biifhed.  It  mud  neverthelefs  be  remembered,  that  Kant,  in  dif- 
tingulfhlng  thefe  two  faculties,  does  not  fpeak  of  real  fubftances, 
different  from  one  another.  His  intention  merely  is,  to  point  out 
what  every  refle£\ing  mind  may  ealily  obferve  within  himfelf,  if  he 
stte,nds  to  what  precedes  an  intuition,  and  how  the  onderftandlng 
combines  every  aft  of  perception.  Now,  fince  the  ground  or 
fource  of  thefe  two  faculties  obvioufly  difcovers  two  diftinft  pow- 
ers, it  is  both  rational  and  neceffary,  to  denote  their  functions  by 
diftinft  names  j  though  their  effentially  different  operations  (hould 
b«  formed  in  one  and  the  fame  fubftance.  We  cannot  attend  here  to 
an  inference,  that  may  be  drawn  from  this  identity  of  origin,  againft 
the  difcrimination  of  powers,  that  are  in  themfelves  as  diftir.ft  as 
the  motion  of  a  clock,  is  from  that  of  the  hammer,  which  flrikes 
the  bell,  though  by  the  fame  mechanJfm,  that  moves  the  pendulum 
and  the  hands.  In  this  very  contrivance,  we  may  find  the  moft  con- 
vincing inftance  of  the  aftual  difference  between  the  exerclfe  of 
the  fenfitive  and  Intelleflual  faculties,  if  we  coniider  it  both,  in  an 
vbjeBive  vnA  fubjedive  view.  In  the  former,  we  behold  no  more 
than  a  machine  that  moves,  at  certain  equal  diftances,  the  hands 
which  are  attached  to  it  5  and  he,  who  is  unacquainted  with  the 
purpofe  for  which  it  is  defigned,  will  view  it  with  the  aftonlihment 
and  fear  of  the  Swifs  peafant,  who  formerly  deftroyed  a  time-piece 
dropped  by  a  traveller,  becaufe  he  apprehended  mifchief  from  the 
noife  that  accompanied  its  motion.  But,  if  this  untutored  fon  of 
nature  had  been  informed  of  the  great  utility  of  that  machine,  by 
the  conftrufllon  of  which  mankind  have  contrived  to  meafure  time 
apparent,  his  intelleftual  faculty  might  thus  have  been  enlarged, 
and  lie  would  have  acquired  \.h.t  fuhje6iive  view  of  a  watch.  With- 
out having  had  any  previous  experience  of  the  defign,  with  which 
the  motions  of  a  time-piece  are  arranged  in  fpaces^  he  could  now 
conceive,  a  priori^  the  neceiTary  refult  of  this  arrangement,  by  di- 
viding the  duration  of  the  day  into  hours,  minutes,  and  fecond*  > 
although  experience  would  a  pojieriori  confirm  this  intuitive  no- 
tion, and  give  it  ohjeBive  reality.  This,  indeed,  cannot  be  obtain- 
ed in  any  other  way  than  by  means  of  the  fenfes  j  for  the  quedion, 
here,  is  not  of  the  laft  and  abfulute  ground  or  fubftance  of  the 
intuitive  faculty,  but  concerning  the  intuilive  faculty  as  an  appeal 

to 


KANTs  WORICS.  71 

to  this  laft  fubftratum,  that  is  determined  by  its  operations. — Thus 
CopERNicos  acquired  demonftrativc  certainty  upon  what  he,  at  firft, 
had  conceived  only  as  an  hypothcfis  j  for  the  central  laws  of  the 
motions  of  celeftial  bodies  at  the  fame  time  proved  the  reality  of 
that  invifible  power  of  attraftion,  which  fupports  the  fabric  of  the 
univerfe,  and  which  Newton  never  could  have  difcovered,  if  the 
former  had  not  ventured  to  go  beyond  the  limits  of  poflible  ex- 
perience, and  to  fearch  for  the  ground  or  caufe  of  the  motions  ob- 
ferved,  not  in  the  objefls  of  the  celeftial  bodies,  but  in  the  eyes  of 
the  fpcdlator. 

Kant,  therefore,  prevloufly  analyfed  the  Senfitlve  Faculty,  and 
endeavoured  to  difcover  the  neceffary  conditions,  without  which 
our  Senfitive  Faculty  cannot  perceive  any  objefls  whatever.  Af- 
ter having  cautioufly  feparated  all  that,  which,  in  the  phenomena 
exhibited  by  the  fenfes,  either  Is  merely  accidental,  or  is  owing  to 
the  fun£lion  of  the  intelleft,  he  difcovered,  that /wo  conditions  only 
remain,  without  which,  every  where,  neither  our  Senfitive  Facul- 
ty, nor  Its  objects,  are  conceivable.  Thefe  conditions  are,  Space 
and  Time.  They  have  ever  been  the  fturabling  block  of  all  me- 
taphyflcians,  and  the  fpurce  of  endlefs  difpiites.  Kant  confiders 
them  In  fuch  a  manner  as  will  afford  fatisfaftlon  to  every  cool  and 
unbiaffed  enquirer  after  truth,  fince  none  but  the  moft  inveterate 
Sceptic,  or  the  obftinate  Syftematic,  can  withhold  their  affcnt.  He 
(hows  namely, 

I,  That  both  thefe  reprefentatlons  are  the  immediate  produc- 
tions of  the  fenfes,  and  confequently  admit  of  no  further  derivar 
tion.  Hence  It  was  a  fruitlefs  attempt  of  Lfibnitz,  who  endea- 
voured to  explain  their  origin  from  Intelleftual  notions.  The  Un- 
derftanding  has,  Indeed,  the  power  of  arranging  Space  and  Time 
with  their  modifications,  under  the  Ideas  of  order,  unity,  and  fo 
forth,  but  it  cannot  derive  either  of  them  from  thefe  Ideas  j  It  can 
unfold  and  explain  their  contents,  but  it  cannot  conceive  the  pof- 
fibillty  of  their  origin,  any  further  than  that  they  are  fomething 
given  us  by  the  Senfitive  Faculty  Itfclf. 

2,  They  mufl  be  thought  of  as  the  fubftratum  of  all  fenfible  ob- 
jefts,  I.  e.  as  the  forms  of  all  phenomena.  But  they  are  not  real 
Qbje£ts    and  felf-fubfiftent,    as   Clarke   imagined ;    their  reality 

wholly 


»!%  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

vrhoUy  depends  upon  thofe  things,  which  can  be  obfcrved  in  them  : 
abftraftly  confidered,  they  are  the  bare  forms  of  our  Senfitive  Fa- 
culty J  forms,  through  ^ich  we  are  enabled  to  determine,  that 
all  real  obje£ls  of  fenfe  are  conformable  to  them,  or  that  thefe 
objefts  mull  of  ueceiTity  be  given  in  them.-t-It  is  by  this  manner 
of  reprefentation,  that  we  can  explain  all  the  predicates  of  Space 
and  Time,  as  that  of  infinity,  continuity,  uniformity,  &c.  without 
incurring  thofe  difficulties,  which  have  been  produftlve  of  the 
greateft  donfufion  in  philofophy,  and  which  have  involved  Mathe- 
roatlcs  and  Metaphyfics  Into  perpetual  dliTenflons. 

3,  Finally,  Kant  alfo  fhows,  that  fpace  and  time,  being  the 
forms  of  our  Senfitive  Faculty,  muft  confequently  be  conceived  as 
the  forms  of  thofe  objefts  only,  of  which  we  can  attain  Intuitions  : 
thus  they  are  merely  forms  of  phenomena,  and  not  the  forms  of  all 
things  in  general,  that  are  the  objeds  of  knowledge.  Nay,  It  is 
even  conceivable,  that  the  things  exhibited  to  us  in  fpace  and 
time,  abflraftly  confidered,  may  be  viewed  or  perceived  by  other 
thinking  beings,  under  very  diflferent  forms  j  although  it  is  not  in 
pur  power,  either  to  determine  more  preclfcly  this  difference,  or 
%o  afcertain  the  real  poffibillty  of  it,  by  any  arguments  favourable 
to  this  conje£lure. 

From  the  preceding  flatement,  the  reader  will  be  able  to  form 
a  general  Idea  of  the  manner.  In  which  the  univerfal  truths  of  Ma- 
thematics may  be  demonftrated  upon  the  principles  of  the  Critical 
philofopher,  and  how  thefe  principles  may  be  employed,  to  deter- 
jnlnc  thereby  the  objefts  of  the  world  of  fenfc.  For,  fincc  fpace 
and  time  are  apprehended  Immediately  through  the  nature  of  our 
fenfitive  faculty,  it  is  now  conceivable  j  how  we  can  perceive  all 
their  relations,  compare  them  with  one  another  through  the  under- 
ftanding,  and  deduce  general  principles  from  thefe  fources.  And 
ss  all  the  objefts  of  fenfe  neceffarily  appear  In  thefe  forms,  the  ex- 
planation I5  felf-cvldent,  that  all  the  relations  apprehended  a  pri- 
pri,  muft  alfo  neceffarily  be  difcovered  in  all  thefe  phenomena.  It 
llkewlfe  follows  from  this  illuftratlon,  that  all  Mathematics  con- 
fift  in  ^a  fclence,  relating  only  to  objefts  of  fenfe,  and  admitting 
of  no  application  whatever,  to  thofe  of  an  oppofitc  nature. 

After  having  fatisf^dlorily  proved,  that  there  are  neither  more 

nor 


KANTs  WORKS.  .     73 

nor  fewer  of  the  neceffary  conditions  of  perception  in  the  SenfitiVe 
Faculty,  than  Space  and  ^ime,  Kant  proceeds  to  the    inveftiga- 
tion  of  the  Underftartding,  as  the  fecond    principal  conflituent  of 
the  intuitive  Faculty.     He  remarks,  that  all  the  operations  of  the 
underftanding  may  be  ultimately  reduced  to  the  aSi  of  judging,  and 
he  concludes  from  this,  that  the  different  modifications  in  a  judg- 
ment, in  general,  are  the  principles,  according   to  which  the  pure 
notions  of  the  intelleft    muft  be  determined.     Upor  this  ground, 
he  previoufly  unfolds  all  the  fimple  and  pure  notions  of  the  intel- 
left, and  exhibits  them,  in  a  complete  and  fyflematic  manner,  as 
the  ultimate  elements  of  all  judgments. — It  is  well  known,  how 
much  the  fimple  notions  or  firft  principles  have  interefted  the  Mc- 
taphyficians  of  all  ages  ;  it  is  alfo  known,  that  they  never  could 
agree  with  refpeft   to  their  number  ;  whether,  among  the  fimple 
or  primary  notions,  tbere  had  not  be€n  included  fome  of  a  com- 
pound nature  j  whether  thofe  confidered  as  original  ones  were  not 
at  the  bottom  merely  derivatives  j  whether  there  is  no  chance  of 
difcovering  in  future  a  greater  number  of  fimple  notions,  or  of  re- 
ducing thofe  already  difcovered  to  a  fmaller  number.     All  thefe 
doubts  and  difputes,  Kant  has    now  terminated,  by  difcovering  a 
principle,  from  uhich  it  appears  evident,  that  there  can  be  nei- 
ther more  nor  fewer   than  tviehe  *  originally  pure  notions  of  tlie 
underftanding. 

The  way,  In  which  Kant  difcovers  thefe  Categories  or  primary 
notions,  and  how  he  proves  their  completenefs  and  validity,  can- 
not be  detailed  nor  abridged  in  this  general  retrofpeft  of  the  Cri- 
tique J  but  I  {hall  briefly  remark,  that  the  categories  exa<^ly  com- 
prife  thofe  notions,  without  which  the  underftanding  is  unable  to 
conceive  any  obj efts  whatever,  i.  e.  to  judge  of  them.  Hence 
fhey  exprefs  nothing  furthet  than  the  mode  or  manner,  how  the 
Underftanding,  by  the  laws  of  its  conftitutlon,  muft  neccffarily 
combine  the  varities  in  perception,  whenever  it  attempts  to  judge 
upon  objefts.  But  the  forms  of  objefts  naturally  lie  in  the  under- 
ftanding, and  as  fuch  they  have  always  been  inveftlgated    and  de- 

K  termine4 


*  Sec  the  Categories,  r-45>  and  compare  them  with  the  definitions  in  the  G/o^,. 
ary. 


74  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

tertnined  in  Logic.  Thus  the  Logicians  have  long  ago  taught  us, 
from  the  nature  of  the  Underftanding,  that  every  judgment  muft 
be  determined  by  its  extent  and  compafs,  as  well  as  by  its  relation 
to  fynthetic  unity  and  confcioufnefs  j  or  that  it  muft  have  a  certain 
quantity,  quality,  relation,  and  modality.  But  that,  through  this 
procefs  alone,  the  conceivable  objefts  are  determined,  that  con* 
fequently  the  forms  of  judgment  are  carried  over  to  the  objefts  of 
thought,  and  can  be  predicated  of  them  a  priori,  this  neccffary  in- 
ference has  been  lefs  attended  to,  by  former  philofophers.  For, 
though  they  have  not  failed  to  make  ufe  of  the  notions  thus  a- 
rifing,  in  order  to  determine  the  objefts  a  priori,  yet  the  peculiar 
fource  of  thefe  notions  has  hitherto  remained  undifcovered. 

From  this  fource,  Kant  derives  all  our  notions  a  priori,  and 
jnakes  them  the  predicates  of  general  principles,  which  through- 
out, become  the  laws  relative  to  objefts  of  experience  a  priori '^  for 
they  do  not  contain  a£lual  experience  itfelf,  but  the  general  con- 
ditions, that  render  experience  poflible,  between  the  nature  of  man 
and  things.  Thefe  laws  are  fyftematically  exhibited  in  the  Cri- 
tique, agreeably  to  one  principle,  fo  that  the  reader  is  convinced, 
that  there  are  neither  more  nor  fewer  of  the  general,  neccffary, 
and  elementary  principles,  than  are  unfolded  thi;ough  this  inquiry. 
But  thefe  principles  are  likewife  the  axioms  of  a  phyfical  fcience, 
fo  far  as  nature  confifts  of  nothing  elfe  but  the  whole  complex  of 
experimental  objects ',  and  confequently,  from  this  idea  of  nature, 
we  not  only  conceive,  very  perfeftly,  the  pofllbility  of  reducing 
Phyfics  to  a  fcientific  fyftem,  but  likewife  this  fyftem  itfelf  is,  in 
its  pure  or  tranfcendental  part,  thus  actually  formed. 

Having  ftated  in  the  preceding  outlines,  how  our  Underftandin|f 
mjjft  reprefent  to  itfelf  given  objefts,  or  how  an  intuition  of  them 
becomes  poffible  through  it,  I  can  now  proceed  to  the  particular 
analyfis  of  the  intelleftual  faculty  in  forming  conclufions,  which 
Kaqt  denominates  theoretical  reqfon.  This  branch  of  the  intellec- 
tual faculty,  by  virtue  of  its  conftitution,  produces  certain  notions, 
to  which  no  objefts  whatever  correfpond  in  experience,  although 
they  are  conne£led  with  it  in  fucceiTion,  and  are  both  influenced 
and  determined  by  experience.  It  is  namely,  in  general,  the  idea 
of  the  unconditional  or  abfolute^  that  is  immediately  conncfled  with 

the 


KANT'S  WORKS.  ri 

Ihe  ttatUre  of  Rcafori,  and  through  which,  according  to  the  differ-- 
ent  form  of  rational  contlufions,  the  ideas  of  an  abfolute  fubjeft  or 
mini/,  of  an  abfolute  caufe  or  liberty,  and  of  an  abfolute  totality  of 
all  that  is  pofliblc,  i.  e.  the  idea  oi  God,  take  their  refpeftive  ori- 
gin. The  further  dedu£lion  of  thefe  notions,  abftrafled  from  pure 
Reafon,  muft  be  ftudied  from  Kant's  Critique^  it  forms  one  of  the 
ttioft  eJccellcnt  parts  of  that  work.  We  learn  from  it,  not  only  to 
underftand  completely^  hoXv  all  mankind,  immediately  after  the 
evolution  of  their  mental  faculties,  attain  thefe  ideas  j  but  we 
likewife  conceive,  how  the  reprefentations  formed  concerning  the 
objcfts  of  thefe  ideas^  appear  under  fo  great  a  variety  of  afpefts, 
as  fooh  as  we  venture  to  determine  the  objefts  beyond  the  nature 
of  the  ideas  founded  upon  human  reafon  :  nay»  we  can  even  ge- 
nerally underftand,  how  varioufly  thefe  determinations  may  be  mo- 
dified. We  further  learn,  that  thofe,  who  endeavour  to  derive 
every  thing  concerning  religion,  from  habit,  education)  and  other 
accidental  circumftanccs,  judge  with  the  partiality  and  fallacy  of 
others,  who  confidcr  their  incidental  opinions  as  incontrovertible 
principles,  which  are  deduced  frotn  the  eiTence  of  tranfcendental 
objcfts  themfelves,  or  to  which  they  fondly  would  give  the  ap- 
pearance of  infallibility,  by  appealing  to  the  authority  of  a  divine 
infpiration.  We  alfo  fee,  how  eafily  the  accidentai  may  be  con- 
founded with  the  necejfary,  the  fubjeBi'Oe  with  the  ohjeBive,  the 
natural  with  the  artificial'.,  unlefs  we  are  acquainted  with  the 
fources,  from  which  all  thefe  obje61s  flow,  not  only  fo  far  as  their 
primary  origin  extends,  but  alfo  with  their  minuteft  difference.-— 
Without  being  enraged  againft  thofe  writers,  who,  from  their  af- 
fertions,  appear  to  have  formed  the  artful  deiign  of  depriving  maa 
of  every  thing,  that  is  valuable  and  inteielling  to  him  as  a  rational 
being,  we  canwithout  difficulty  conceive,  that  it  is  only  a  different 
intereft  or  motive  of  our  reafon,  which  incites  men  to  propagate 
irreligious  doftrines  j  that  it  is  not  entirely  their  immoral  will, 
but  rather  their  too  extenfive  views,  encouraged  by  the  weak- 
ncfs  of  thcfr  adverfaries,  that  induce  them  to  expofe  the  argu- 
ments employed  in  favour  of  the  moft  interefting  principles  of  re- 
ligion, while  they  flatter  themfelves  with  the  profpeft  of  contro- 
verting all  the  opinions  of  their  opponents. 

K  a  The 


76  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

The  Critique  of  Kant  holds^  out  the  profpeft  of  a  moft  conr- 
plete  vidory  overjall  the  enemies  of  Religion,  and  I  ftiall  now  ftatc, 
in  what  manner  the  principles  of  Religion  are  fecured  againft  all 
the  attacks  of  its  adveifaries,  and  how  religion  is  fortified  againft 
ai')itrary  and  accidental  additions.  After  having  (howny  that  the 
ground  of  the  idea  concerning  Mind,  Liberty,  and  the  Deity,  is 
to  be  met  with  in  the  nature  of  Rcafon  itfelf,  and  that  every  ra- 
tional being  is  involuntarily  led  to  the  formation  of  thefe  ideas, 
the  author  endeavours  to  prove,  and  he  does  this  very  fatisfa£lo- 
lily,  "  that  the  Intuitive  Taculty  of  man  has  not  the  poiuer  of  appre- 
hending ohjeBs  in  a  determined  manner^  or  of  pointing  out  chara&ers 
of  theviy  which  are  derived  from  immediate  perception ?"*  He  de- 
xnonltrates,  that  we  can  indeed  think  the  objefts  of  thefe  ideas, 
but  that,  at  no  time  whatever,  we  are  able  to  apprehend  them 
theoretically.  For,  to  acquire  a  theoretical  id«a  of  things,  we 
muft  not  only  predicate  of  them,  that  they  arc  conformable  to  the 
laws  of  our  Underftanding,  or  that  they  are  not  fomething  con- 
trary to  them,  but  we  mull  likewife  be  enabled  to  point  out  de- 
terminate and  real  predicates,  which  are  taken  from  the  thing  it- 
felf under  apprehenfion.  But  the  real  predicates  of  a  thing  can- 
not be  conceived  in  any  other  manner,  than  through  fenfible  per- 
ception j  whether  this  take  place  by  immediately  perceiving  the 
thing  itfelf,  or  mediately  through  fome  other  objefl^  which  has 
certain  real  properties,  in  common  with  that  to  be  apprehended. 
Hence  it  follows,  that  we  are  unqualified  to  apprehend  the  real 
predi#ates^  or  the  tranfcendental  properties  of  thofe  things,  which, 
by  their  n^ature,  neither  ii;!  part  nor  in  the  whole,  can  ever  become 
objects  of  fenfible  peicleption.  We  are  altogether  deficient  in  a 
faculty  defigned  for  that  purpofe  \  hence  we  are,  for  inftance,  un- 
able to  determine  pofitively  the  nature  of  mind,  according  to  its 
internal  conftitution.  We  can  Indeed  predicate  of  it^  with  cer- 
tainty, that  it  is  not  of  itfelf  an  obje£l  of  fenfe,  confequently,  not 
£(  phenomenon  j  but  whatever  predicates  of  reality  may,  in  other' 
refpe£ts,  belong  to  it  •,  how  its  cxiitencc  may  be  conftitutcd,  whe- 
ther it  be  a  firaple  fubltance,  and  different  fiom  the  internal  ab- 
lolute  grounds  of  matter  j  how  the  Idea  of  liberty  is  evolved  j 
what  properties  belong  to  the  Deity  la  a  tranfcendental  view,  atid 

the 


KANT'S  WORKS.  H 

the  like  •  all  thefe  problems  could  be  folved  only  tKrou^  the  per- 
teptlon  of  fuperfenfible  objcfts.  And  as  we  are  provided  with  no 
faculty  for  the  cxercife  of  fuch  a  funfllon,  we  cannot  at  all  deter- 
mine the  real  charafters  of  thefe  things-,  nay  we  do  not  even  un- 
dcrfland  the  real  importance  of  the  term  "  exifterice;"*  when  wc 
apply  it  to  fuperfenfible  objefts.  I^or,  with  refpeft  to  the  objeas 
of  fenfe,  the  expreflion,  "  foriiethin^  exifts^''  fignifics  no  more  than 
that  it  aflFefts  our  fenfes,  by  producing  a  fenfation,  as  foon  as  it  is 
placed  in  proper  connexion  with  them.  But  the  idea  of  exiftence 
cannot  imply  the  fame  meaning  with  refpeft  to  fuperfenfible  ob- 
je£ts  J  for  the  term  "  exiftence"  is  not  to  be  defined  in  its  bare 
relation  to  our  Intuitive  Faculty,  but  as  an  inttrnal  property.  Yet 
the  impoflibility  of  giving  fuch  a  definition  is  obvious,  not  rnereiy 
from  the  failure  of  all  the  attempts  hitherto  made  for  that  pur- 
pofe,  but  likewife  from  theinveftigation  of  the  fourccs,  from- which 
fuch  a  determination  ought  to  be  derived.  ' 

Although  we  cannot  comprehend,  through  perception,  the  ob- 
je£ls  of  thofe  ideas,  which,  in  their  nature,  lie  beyond  the  world  of 
fenfe  j  and  though  we  cannot,  on  that  account,  obtain  any  thco*- 
rttical  intuition  of  them  j  we  can  difcover  anether  fource,  frorA 
»vhich,  however,  we  derive  no  intuitive  knowledge  of  the  objefti 
themfelves,  but  a  praftical  and  fubje6li:e  knowledge  of  their  re- 
lations to  the  nature  of  man.  Though  our  views  of  the  nature  of 
thefe  objects  be  not  thereby  enlarged,  that  knowledge  affords  us 
fufficicnt  groimds,  upon  which  we  may  fafely  cftablilh  rules  for 
our  conduft,  and  convince  ouvfelvesof  the  reality  of  that  ultimate 
defign,  which  our  Reafon  cannot  confillently  call  in  queftion. 

The  chief  point  of  this  inquiiy  is,  to  difcover  a  fufficient  ground 
for  the  reality  of  thofe  ideas,  and  to  open  a  fource,  from  which  thfc 
determinations  of  their  objeds,  relative  to  our  pradlical  advantage, 
fliall  be  derived  with  fafety  and  without  ambiguity.  This  fource, 
then,  according  to  Kant,  lies  in  the  nature  of  our  own  fubjcft, 
1.  e.  the  mind,  and  is  actually  that,  which  we  underftand  by  the 
term  moral  fenfe.  This  alone  is  a  fafe  Intuitive  ground  for  deter- 
mining the  reality  of  the  ideas  concerning  Liberty,  God,  and  Ia>. 
mortality  j  and  this  alone  eftabllflies  the  true  relations,  in  which 
we  can  form  digrufitd  conceptions  of  the  Deity. 

Kant 


^8  '  ELEMENTARY  VltW  OF 

Kant  admits  it  as  a  matter  of  fa£t,  that  we  arc  tnoral  beings,  and 
confequently  this  moral  fenfc  it  an  eflfential  pait  of  human  nature  5 
that  reafon  places  the  higheft  value  of  man,  folely  and  cxclufively, 
in  his  moral  feelings  J  and  that  it  reduces  all  his  power  and  pro- 
fperity  to  thcfe  feelings,  and  values  thfe  whole  of  the  former  ac- 
tording  to  effe£ls  produced  Upon  the  latter.  Aftet  having  de- 
monftrated  the  effential  difference  fubfifting  between  the  moral  and 
fenfitive  nature  of  man,  and  having  analyzed  the  different  laws,  by 
which  both  arc  governed  refpeftivcly  j  he  now  proceeds  to  provc» 
3,  That  the  reality  of  Liberty  is  neceffarily  conne£led  with  the 
tnoral  nature  of  man,  and  that  the  latter  is  wholly  inconceivable 
without  the  former  j  that  confequently  our  Reafon  forces  us  to  ac- 
knowledge Liberty  as  a  certain,  though  unaccountable,  faft  rela- 
tive to  man  J  becaufcj  without  doing  this,  we  would  be  obliged  to 
renounce  all  claims  to  Reafon,  and  to  confider  it  as  perfcftly  ufe- 
lefs  J  2,  That  the  reality  of  a  being,  which  cotitains  the  fufficient 
ground  of  a  thorough  moral  order,  muft  be  conceived  equally  com- 
bined with  the  Deity,  as  it  is  with  the  moral  nature  of  man,  fo  that 
the  immortality  of  the  foul  muft  be  confidered  as  a  neceffary  con- 
ftituent  of  this  moral  order.  Reafon,  however,  being  the  fupreme 
tribunal,  to  which  man  may  appeal,  perfuades  us  to  receive,  not 
only  thefe  ideas,  but  alfo  their  objefts  as  founded  upon  truth  j  we 
are  therefore  juftified  in  relying  upon  the  juftnefs  of  our  Reafon, 
provided  that  we  do  not  prefume  to  determine  with  regard  to  the 
internal  nature  and  eflence  of  thefe  obje£ts  j  a  determination, 
which  can  be  made  only  through  the  immediate,  though  impofli- 
ble,  perception  of  them.  Hence  we  are  utterly  incapable  of  af- 
certainingthe  nature  of  a  free  fubje6t,as  an  independent  fubftance  j 
the  pofitive  conftitution  of  mind,  by  which  immortality  be- 
comes poflTible  J  and  finally,  the  manner  in  which  the  Deity  has 
accomplifhed  a  moral  connexion  between  man  and  the  world. 
We  only  know,  that  thofe  obje£ls,  which  we  conceive,  through 
general  ideas,  at  the  caufes  of  certain  cffefts,  arc  reclaimed  by 
our  reafon  as  the  neceffary  conditions  of  our  moral  deftination  j 
and  that  ground,  on  which  we  muft  admit  them,  or  believe  their 
reality,  lies  in  our  fubjeft,  namely  in  our  moral  fenfe,  which  partly 
as  an  intuitive  principle,  partly  as  a   practical  motive,  generates 

and 


KANT'S  WORKS.  79 

and  fupports  the  belief  iiv  the  fandamental  truths  of  religion. 
Since,  then,  the  intuitlve'principle  refpeding  the  reality  of  thefe 
tranfcendental  objcfts,  or  of  religions  truths,  is  perfeAly  confident 
with  Reafon,  not  from  the  immediate  perception  of  objefts  (the 
reality  of  which  requires  no  proof),  but  from  a  certain  qualifica- 
tion of  our  own  fubjeft,  as  connefted  with  the  real  (late  of  thefe 
objefts  J  a  ftate,  the  exiftcnce  of  which  is  far  from  being  imagi- 
nary only  y  Kant,  confequently,  oalls  this  a  JuljeBive  ground  of 
convlftion,  in  contradiftinftion  to  an  objeBive  ground,  which  is 
derived  from  the  perception  of  the  objefls  themfelves. 

In  reprefenting  the  Kantian  doftrine  of  morals,  every  thing  de* 
pcnds  upon  our  being  cbnfcious  of  a  moral  law,  confcious  of  right 
and  wrong,  of  good  and  bad,  fo  that  the  intuitive  ground  of  moral 
principles  be  rendered  independent  on  all  theology  j  for  the,  doc- 
trines of  the  Deity  and  Immortality  muft  be  deduced  from  pure 
morals  j  or  the  latter  muft  be  the  intuitive  ground  of  all  religion. 
And  this  is  liUewife  the  aSual  and  neceffary  refulliof  his  princi- 
ples. Morality  refts  upon  its  own  bafis  j  and,  in  the  fublime  view 
which  Kant  prefents  of  it,  all  other  things  relative  to  man,  muft 
be  decided  by  that  ftandard.  It  is  principally  in  Ethics,  we  learn, 
to  confider  the  things  of  this  world  as  purpofes  )  and  by  colle6live- 
iy  employing  them  as  the  means  of  attaining  one  ultimate  pur- 
pofc,  we  introduce  unity  among  them.  Thus  we  difcover  their 
fubordlnate  laws,  agquirc  fyftematic  unity,  and  produce  a  pcrfeft 
harmony  throughout  the  whole  fphere  of  the  intuitive  knowledge 
of  man.  Yet,  through  all  the  illuftrations  afforded  by  EthicS}  we 
do  not  learn  to  comprehend  the  poflibility  of  the  things  them- 
felves J  we  only  acquire  intelligence  refpefting  the  poflibility  of 
our  deftination  in  general.  Hence  the  intuitions,  which  we  de<r 
rive  from  morals,  do  not  enlarge  our  penetration  into  the  nature 
of  the  things  themfelves,  but  they  render  our  reafon  confiftent 
with  itfelf,  and  reftore  harmony  between  the  moral  laws  and  other 
intuitions  and  thoughts ;  an  operation,  which  is  attended  with 
no  theoretical,  but  certainly  with  great  practical,  advantage. 

This  view  of  morals,  however,  if  it  fhall  ferve  as  the  bafis  of 
religion,  muft  be  extremely  different  from  that,  which  we  find  ip 
the  "  Syjlemt  de  la  ^ature^  in  the  writings  of  Helvktids,  and  fci 


8o  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

vera]  o'iher  reputed  philofophers,  who  fpeak  indeed  much  of  Hu- 
man Nature,  but  have  penetrated  lefs  into  its  effence  than  they 
themfclves  affure  us  :  and  though  thefe  inquiries  conftantly  appeal 
to  experience,  they  make  ufe  of  principles  very  different  from 
thofe,  w:hich  experience  can  furnifli. — To  dcfcribe,  at  length,  the 
Moral  Syftem  of  Kant,  which  affords,  at  once,  folldity  and  con- 
fiflency  in  that  of  Religion,  would  require  a  feparate  publication. 
But  we  fliall  exhibit  the  outlines  of  this  fyftem  in  reviewing  ano- 
ther work  of  Kant's,  treatin^r  particularly  of  that  fubje£l,  which 
the  reader  will  find  mentioned  under  No.  XXI.  (5)  of  this  ana- 
lytical retrofpeft. 

XIX.  (3)  Prolegomena  zu  einer  jeden  Jiunftigen  Metaphyfihy 
die  ah  Wiffenfchaft  wird  auftreten  hmnen.  Introdudlory 
pbfervations  with  refpcft  to  every  future  Sjflem  of  Meta- 
phyfics,  that  may  deferve  the  name  of  a  fcjence.  8vo.  RigOj 

In  the  preface  to  this  work,  the  author  explains  his  pirn  at  con- 
vincing thofe  who  employ  themfelves  in  metaphylical  inquiries  ; 
that  it  is  indifpenfdbly  neceflfary  to  fufpend  their  labours  for  fome 
time,  to  confider  every  thing  hitherto  done  as  undone,  and  above 
all  things  to  propofe  the  queilion,  "  whether  there  is  any  profpeft 
qf  eftablifliing  every  where  fuch  a  fciencc  as  Metaphyfics  ?" 

*  If  it  is  a  fcience  already,  how  does  it  happen,  that  it  has  nof, 
like  other  fciences,  obtained  general  and  lading  reputaJion  ?  If  it 
is  none,  how  is  it  permitted  continually  to  boaft  of  the  illufory 
name  of  a  fcience,  and  to  uphold  the  human  underflanding  with 
hopes  equally  permanent  and  unaccompliftied  ?— Let  us  therefore 
demonflrate,  either  our  knowledge  or  our  ignorance  j  the  nature 
of  this  pretended  fcience  ought  to  be  thoroughly  invefligated; 
for  it  is  impoflible  to  leave  things  any  longer  upon  the  old  foot- 
irg.  It  appears  almoft  ridiculous,  while  every  other  fciencc  is 
making  incelTFint  progrefs,  that  in  this  one,  which  afpires  to  the 
charatler  of  being  the  oracle  of  wifdom  itfelf,  man  continually 
turns  round  upon  the  fame  fpot,  without  advancing  a  fingle  flep. 
3t  is  even  obferved,  that  the  number  of  its  votaries  is  much  de- 
^reafing,  and   that  thofe,  who  feel  themfelves  fuihciently   able  ta 

gaia 


KA^Ts  WORKS.  8Jt 

gain  credit  in  other  fcicnces,  do  not  choofe  to  venture  their  repu- 
tation in  this.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  equally  certain,  that  every 
tyro,  who  is  ignorant  in  all  other  branches  of  knowledge,  here 
claims  the  right  of  pronouncing  a  df  fcifive  opinion  ;  becaiife  in  this 
territory  there  exifts  in  facl  no  fettled  meafure  and  weight,  by 
which  the  rational  inquirer  can  be  difcerned  from  the  (hallow 
prattler;' 

'  To  make  plans,  is  frequently  a  luxuriant  and  oftentatious  em- 
ployment of  the  mind,    by  which  fome  people  acquire  the  appear- 
ance of  inventive  genius  5  while  they   demand  what  they    cannot 
furnifli  themfelves,  cenfure  what  they  cannot  improve,  and  propofe 
■what  they  themfelves  do  not  know  where  to  difcover  it  : — though 
it  may  be  eafily  conjeftured,  that  a  little  more  than  a  declamation 
of  pious  wifhes  will  be  requifite,  to  foriti  a  juft  plan  of  "  &  generill 
Critique  of  Reafon."     But  Pure  Reafon  is  a  fphere  fo  infulaied  and 
fo  thoroughly  connected  with  itfclf,  that  we  can  approach,  no  part 
of  it  without  touching  all  the  reft,  and  that  we   can  do  no  good, 
without  having  afllgned  each  part  its  proper  place  and  influence  upon 
the  other.     For,  fince  without  Reafon  there  is  nothing  that  could 
correft  our  judgment,  the  validity  and  ufe  of  every  part  depends 
upon  the  relation,  in  which  it  Hands  towards  the  others,  within  the 
bounds  of  Reafon  itfelf ;  as  in  the  ftru^ure  of  an  organized  body 
the  purpofe  of  every  member  can  be  deduced  only  from  thfe  com- 
plete   idea  of  the  whole.     Hence  we  may  fay   of  fuch  a  Criii^ue, 
that  no   dependence  can  be  placed  upon  it,  unlefs  it  be  entire  and 
complete^  even  extending  to  the  minutcil  elements  of  Pure  Reafon^ 
and  that  we  muft  be  enabled  to  determine  either  the  whole  or  nO' 
thing,  that  relates  to  the  fphere  of  this  faculty.' 

•  Although  the  bare  plan  of  fuch  a  feience,  had  it  befen  pie- 
mifed  to  the  "  Critique  of  Pure  Reafon,"  might  have  been  unin- 
telligible, fufpicious,  and  ufeiefs  j  it  will,  on  the  contrary,  become 
the  more  advantageous,  when  it  appears  in  illuftration  of  that 
work.  For,  by  this  plan,  we  (hall  be  enabJ^  to  t^ke  a  view  of 
the  whole,  to  inveftigatc  the  principal  points,  upon  the  folidity  of 
which  this  fcienc6  is  erefted,  and  to  underftand  nloie  clearly  thr 
principles,  which  at  firft  appeared  obfcure.' 

*  'I'hefc   Prolegomena  then  contain  fuch  a  plan  as  ought  to  hv. 

I«  ftatfii 


82  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

flated  in  an  analytical  method,  fince  the  preceding  work  ccceffa- 
rily  required  a  fynthethical  arrangement  :  in  order  that  this  fcience 
might  be  exhibited  in  its  individual  parts,  and  as  the  ftrufture  of 
a  very  peculiar  faculty  in  the  acqulfition  of  knowledge,  which  pre- 
fents  itfelf  in  its  natural  connexion.     Thofe  who   fliould  find  this 
phn  as  obfcure  as  the  Critique  itfelf,  muft  confider  that  the   ftudy 
of  Metaphyfics  is  not  the  bufinefs  of  all  j  that  there  arc  many  in- 
genious  men,  who  make  confiderable  proficiency  in  fciences,  that 
lie  more  within  the  bounds  of  fenfible  perception,  and  who  do  not 
fucceed    In  inquiries   carried  on  through  pure  abftraft   notions. 
Such  individuals  mufl  employ  their  mental  faculties  upon  other  ob- 
jefts.     Thofe,  however,  vfho  venture  to  judge  upon  Metaphyfics, 
or  even  attempt  to  frame  fyftems  of  their  own,  muft  previoufly  fa- 
tisfy  the  demands  made  in  this  work.     Whether  this  be  done  by 
approving  of  the  method,   in  which    I  have  folved  the  different 
problems  j  or  by  refuting  this  folution,  upon  well  eftabliflied  prin- 
ciples, and  giving  another  in  its  place  ;  in  either  cafe  they  will  do 
juftice  to  the  caufe.     For,  to  rejeft  a  plan  without  trying  its  me- 
rits, is  equally  frivolous  and  illiberal.     I  confefs  I  did  not  expeft 
to  hear  philofophers  complaining,  that  my  works  were  deficient  in 
popular,  entertaining,  and   eafy  language  j  when  the  queftion  re- 
lates to  the  exiftence  of  a  fource  of  knowledge,  which  is  highly 
valuable  and  indifpenfable    to  man,  but  which  cannot  be  demon- 
flrated,  without  obferving   the  ftridleft  rules  of  fcientific  deduc- 
tion.    Popularity,  indeed,    will  in  its  turn  attend  thefe  invefliga- 
tions,  but  to  aim  at  it  in  the  beginning,  would  be  a  filly  and  fruit- 
lefs   attempt. — That-very    obfcurity,  which  is   fo  much  decried, 
and  which  is  frequently   ufed  as  a  cloak  for  the  cqnvenlency  and 
mental  weaknefs  of  its  adverfarles,  is  not    without  relative  advan- 
tacre  ;"for  all  thofe,  who  obferve  a  cautious  filence  In  other  fciences, 
enjoy  an   opportunity   of  fpeaking  and  deciding  in  a  magillcrial 
tone  upon  metaphyfical  fubjedlsj  becaufe   their  ignorance,  heie, 
does  not  form  fo  remarkable  a  contraft,  when   compared  with  the 
knowledge  of  others,  as   it  does  in  oppofition  to  genuine   critical 
principles,  of  which  we  may  juflly  fay  with  the  Roman  poet, 
Ignavum,fucos,l>ecus  a  prafe/>ibus  arcent."* 

ViRG. 

A- 


KANT'S  WORKS.  83 

As  thefe  Prolegomena  are  a  concife  and  perfplcuous  abftraft 
from  the  preceding  Critique,  in  an  analytical  method,  which  the 
author  employs,  as  it  were,  to  go  back  again  the  fame  path,  upon 
which  he  had  fynthetically  advanced  in  the  Critique  •,  we  could 
only  repeat  that  deduftion  of  Kant's  principles,  which  we  have  al- 
ready premifed  at  fufficicnt  length. 

XX.  {^^.')Betrachtungen  iiber  dasFundament  der  Krafte  und  Me- 
thoden,  welche  die  Vernunft  anwenden  kann^  daruber  zu  ur- 
theilen.  Reflexions  upon  the  foundation  of  the  powers  and 
methods,  which  Reafon  is  entitled  to  employ  in  judging 
upon  their  validity.     8vo.     Koenigsherg^  \*]^\. 

Of  this  fmall  work,  I  know  little  more  than  its  title,  not  having 
been  able  to  procure  a  copy  of  it;  and  as,  from  the  German  Re- 
views, it  appears  to  be  a  further  deduftion  of  the  principles  laid 
down  in  the  preceding  two  works,  I  ftiall  Immediately,  and  at  con- 
llderable  length,  review  the  following,  which  is  uniformly  confider- 
ed  as  the  mofl;  perfpicuous  and  valuable  produftion  of  Kant. 

XXI.  (5)  Grundlegung  %ur  Metaphyjik  der  Sit  fen.  Funda- 
mental principles  of  the  Metaphylicks  (Theory)  of  Morals. 
8vo.  Riga.  1785. — 2d  Edit.  1792,  pp.  128  and  14  pp. 
Preface. 

The  outlines  of  Kant's  Syftem  of  Morals,  I  (hall  endeavour  to 
exhibit,  as  clearly  as  poffible,  in  the  following  analyfis  of  his  prin- 
ciples. 

The  defire  of  happinefs  is  inherent  to  human  nature  :  all  the 
in(lin6live  propenfities  of  man  are  dtrefled  to  that  purpofe.  But 
our  reafon  ftill  reftrains  that  defire,  and  confiders  only  fuch  a  pof- 
feffion  of  happinefs  as  worthy  of  our  exertions,  which  is  perfedlly 
confiiient  with  morality,  or  rather,  which  is  the  reward  of  moral 
aflions.  Morality  and  happinefs,  therefore,  are  two  different  but 
eiTential  determinations  originating  in  human  nature  j  which,  when 
united  by  the  diftates  of  reafon,  render  the  deftiuation  of  man  per- 
•feft.  This  union,  however,  cannot  be  better  conceived  by  reafon, 
than  that  morality  itfelf  contains  the  oaufe,  through   which  the 

L  2  hap 


84  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

happinefs  of  man  is  accompHllied.  If  we  ourfelves  are  the  pur- 
pofes  and  not  the  bare  means  in  tbe  hands  of  nature  or  any  other 
Being  ;  it  follows,  that  the  neceffary  attributes  of  our  conftitution 
muft  likewife  be  conceived  as  poflible  :  there  muft  exift  fuch  an 
arrangement  of  things,  as  contributes  to  realize  our  moral  dedina^ 
tion.  The  former  part  of  this  deftination,  namely  morality,  de- 
pends on  ourfelves,  and  on  the  degree  of  felf-adivity,  with  which 
we  praftife  the  moral  hw.  This  faculty  of  praftifing  what  the 
moral  law  commands,  we  prefuppofe  in  every  rational  being  5  for 
oiherWife  it  would  be  highly  abfurd,  to  iropofe  upon  ourfelves  a 
law,  obedience  to  which  Reafon  could  not  acknowledge  as 
proclicable.  It  mufl  confequently  be  in  our  power,  to  be  morally 
good,  if  Reafon  commatids  us  to  aft  in  conformity  to  the  moral 
law.  In  whatever  fubjeft  then  Reafon  actually  exifts,  It  muft  alfo 
be  poflible,  that  it  manifeflitfelf  by  aftions  :  whoever  has  the  abi- 
lity to  apprehend  what  is  good  as  a  thing  abfolutely  neceffary,  on  its 
own  account,  he  muft  likewife  be  provided  with  the  facnlty  of  per- 
forming it.  But  it  is  not  phyfically  neceffary  to  do  it ;  for  we  nowhere 
dlfcover  ourReafon  fubjecl:  to  this^fpecies  of  neceflity.  Why  Rea- 
fon very  frequently  does  not  pra6life  what  it  muft  acknowledge  to 
be  morally  good  j  why  our  feufitive  nature  is  not  always  vanquiili- 
ed,  but  frequently  prevails  in  this  cgnteft  \  thefe  problems  we  are 
unable  to  folve  j  becaufe  we  do  not  in  any  manner  comprehend  that, 
which  forms  the  moral  nature  of  man,  as  an  objefl:  of  percep- 
tion J  and  becaufe  we  can  only  derive  the  moral  faculty  of  man 
from  the  idea  of  the  poflibility  of  morality  in  general.  We  know 
only  this  much  with  certainty,  that  we  judge  upon  the  moral  va- 
lue of  man,  merely  and  entirely,  by  the  degree  of  moral  motive^, 
which  we  obferve  in  his  aftions  or  fentiments.  If,  therefore,  the 
phyfical  energy  is  properly  arranged  in  a  man,  fo  that  the  ufe  of 
Reafon,  in  general,  is  poflible  to  him  \  we  prefuppofe,  that  the  per- 
formance of  morally  good  a£lions  is  really  entrufted  to  his  will : 
and  if  we  did  not  prefuppofe  this  inclination,  we  would  in  faft  de- 
ny all  the  influence  which  Reafon  exercifes  over  human  aft'airs, 
and  thus  be  obliged  to  declare  the  general  laws  of  morality,  af- 
forded by  this  faculty,  as  mere  phantoms  of  the  brain.  Our  moral 
pcrfcd.ion  depends  upon  our  own  exertions,  and  it  is  from  this 
Smarter,  that  we  may  more  and  more  approach  our  deftination. 

"\Vhat 


KANTs  WORKS.  S£ 

"What,  on  the  other  hand,  relates  to  the  fecond  part  of  our  def- 
tination,  namely  to  our  happinefs  ;  this  depends  on  the  inftitutioa 
of  the  things  in  nature,  as  well  thofe  of  our  own  fubjeft  as  the  ex- 
ternal objefts,  and  their  influence  upon  us.  By  means  of  Reafoa 
and  its  inherent  liberty,  we  can  indeed  make  fuch  a  ufe  of  the 
things  in  nature,  as  to  produce  certain  degrees  or  parts  of  hap- 
pinefs. But  the  rules  calculated  to  produce  thefe  efFe61s,  Reafou 
cannot  derive  from  its  own  nature  a  priori,  as  is  the  cafe  with  the 
moral  law  j  becaufe  experience  rauft  be  confulted  firft,  that  we 
may  learn,  how  the  nature  of  man,  and  that  of  individual  fubjefts, 
is  conftituted,  and  In  what  relation  the  things  are  to  human  happi- 
nefs. The  laws  by  which  happinefs  is  attained,  are  founded  upon 
the  nature  of  phenomena  :  man  may  apply  them  to  his  advantage, 
but  he  cannot  determine  them  j  he  may  regulate,  in  a  certain  de- 
gree, the  influence  of  fhe  things  upon  himfclf  j  but  he  muft 
ftill  fubrait  to  their  laws.  If,  then,  we  were  to  confult  Reafon,  and 
to  afk,  by  what  laws  happinefs  ought  to  be  diftrlbuted  in  the 
world  >  it  could  give  no  other  anfwer,  but  that  the  morul  law 
ought  to  decide  this.  Morality  fliould  always  be  atteiuled  wiih  a 
proportionate  fliare  of  happinefs  j  whether  It  of  itlclf  produced 
that  happinefs  as  its  real  caufe  (accoiding  to  phyfical  influence), 
or  that  a  third  being  allotted  to  every  individual,  fuch  a  portion  of 
happinefs  as  he  deferved  through  the  degree  of  his  moral  aiSIvIty  : 
. — here  we  would  admit  an  ///tW  influence,  in  which  a  third  being 
had  fo  regulated  the  courfe  of  nature,  that  her  laws  were  in  perfect 
harmony  with  the  demands  of  Reafon,  relative  to  ihe  happinefs  of 
moral  beings. 

,  But  if  we  confult  experience,  we  by  lio  means  learn,  that  fuch 
a  moral  order  really  fubfifls  in  the  world  j  fince  we  frequently  ob- 
ferve  men  of  bad  morals,  and  of  a  depraved  charafter,  apparently 
happy,  while  good  and  virtuous  men  are  afHifled  by  misfortunes. 
For,  though  the  confcloufnefs  of  juft  and  good  adions  be  accom- 
panied with  agreeable  feelings,  this  alone  does  ,not  conflltute  hu- 
man happinefs  5  fincc  the  moft  excellent  man  muft  be  called  un- 
happy. If  he  is  labouring  under  fuch  calamities  as  are  the  perma- 
nent caufe  of  painful  fenfations.  The  wants  of  human  nature  arc 
very  numerous !  Many  of  them  are  Independent  on  our  will :  the 

ftiilurc 


85  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

failore  in  fati&fying  urgent  neccffities,  is  unavoidably  accompanied 
•with  pain,  frequently  the  raoft  acute  j  nay,  even  a  great  number 
of  the  voluntary  or  artiBcial  wants  are,  by  degrees  and  through 
incidental  circumllances,  fo  intimately  interwoven  with  the  well- 
being  of  man,  that  he  muft  always  feel  unhappy,  when  he  is  de- 
prived of  thofe  means,  by  which  he  was  accuftomed  to  fatisfy 
them.  Belides,  there  is  a  great  number  of  accidents,  which  ren- 
der hina  who  is  cxpofed  to  them  always  unhappy  j  and  experience 
does  not  teach  us,  that  any  diftindtlon  prevails  here  between  the 
good  and  bad.  Difeafes,  war,  famine,  and  all  phyfical  evils,  op- 
ptefs  the  honeft  man  with  equal,  and  frequently  with  much  great- 
er, rigour  than  the  difhoneft  :  the  former,  as  well  as  the  latter,  is 
placed  in  unhappy  fituations,  without  the  means  of  evading  thefc 
evils.  It  requires,  upon  the  whole,  no  proof  that  in  the  diftribu- 
tion  of  phyfieal  goods,  though  a  neceffary  part  of  human  happi- 
nefs,  no  moral  order  at  all  can  be  difcovered  in  experience  j  and 
that,  if  the  latter  alone  could  decide  the  queftion,  we  muft  explain 
all  the  agreement  between  happinefs  and  virtue,  entirely  by  the 
law  of  chance.  What  happens  in  nature  according  to  phyfieal 
laws,  is  equally  different  from  what  ought  to  happen  according 
to  the  laws  of  moral  order,  as  the  ufual  aftions  of  man  diifer  from 
their  duties. 

Eut  although  we  obferve  in  this  world  no  fuch  moral  order,  as 
exhibits  happinefs  and  morality  in  conftant  proportion  j  our  Rea- 
fon  ftill  preferves  an  uncommon  propenfity  to  maintain,  that  fuch 
an  order  muft  adlually  exift.  This,  however,  is  a  prefoppofition, 
which  can  be  juftified,  neither  by  argument  nor  demonftration,  nor 
through  the  real  expofition  of  fuch  an  order  j  bat  which  is  efta- 
bliffied  merely  upon  a  ground  contained  in  our  own  mind.  This 
ground  refts  on  the  neceffjry  internal  obligation  of  being  morally 
good,  or  on  the  moral  feelings  common  to  all  mankind,  and  acknow- 
ledged by  all  good  men.  The  aftual  exiftence  of  a  moral  order  is  fb 
intimately  connefled  with  thcfe  feelings,  that  the  confcioufnefs  of 
them  continually  impels  us  to  prefuppofe  this  order.  And  the  more 
cageily  we  cultivate  morality,  by  difplaying  much  vigour  in  the 
obfervation  of  its  laws  ;  the  more  firmly  and  thoroughly  we  be-  , 
come  convinced,  that  there  muft  cxift  a  complete  moral   order.  ^ 

The:! 


J, 


KANTs  WORI^.  87 

The    train  of  thought,  by  which  Reafon  forms  and  jafilfies  this 

conclufioD,  is  nearly  the  following. 

Reafon  acknowledges   it    as  indifpenfably   necefiTary,  that  maa 
ought  to  aft  conformably  to  moral  laws.     As  long  as  man  enjoys 
the  ufe  of  Reafon,  no  fituation  or  relation  In  life  can  be  conceived, 
in  v,'hich  he  is  exempted  from  the  obligation  of  ading  as  a  moral 
being.     To  zGt  morally  right,  is  therefore  the  hlgheft  objeft,  at 
■which  every  man  ought  to  aim  :   Reafon  cannot,  upon  any  condi- 
tion whatever,  reverfe  this  judgment,  without  falling  into  an  ob- 
vious contradiftioD  with  itfelf.     Now,  we  find,   in  human  nature, 
at  the   fame  time,  a   defire  of  happinefs,  which  is  not  always  gra- 
tified.    Our  nature,  however,  is  fo  conflituted,  that  we  mud  feel 
a  necefiary  defire  of  happinefs  ;  and  this  natural  wi(h  is  a  fufHcient 
ground  for  exerting  ourfelves,  to  realize  it  by  all  the  means  in  our 
powci".     The    rules,  in  confequence   of  which  men  attain  to  real 
happinefs,   are  folely   and    exclnfively  learned    from  experience  j 
while  the  moral  laws  are  derived  a  prion  irom  Reafon  :  ancf  thus 
it  happens,  that  many  rules  for  procuring  happinefs   arc  contrary 
to   morality  ;  or  that   they  weaken   the  force  of  the  moral  law. 
Neverthelefs,  Reafon  places  a  much  higher  value  on  morality,  and 
commands  us  to  wi(h  for  no  other  happinefs,  but  fuch  as  is  in  per- 
fect harmony  with  moral  feelings.     Upon  this  very  occafion  we 
learn,  that  the  happinefs   of  men  is  connected  with  conditions  and 
circumftances,  fo  various  and  incidental,  that  we  cannot  always  at- 
tain it,   by   pra<Sifing  either  the    laws  cf  morality  or  prudence. 
For,  the  moral  conduft  does  not,  as  far  as  experience  informs  us, 
nectffarily  produce  happinefs ;  fince  we  obferve  no  phyfical  con- 
nexion between  them ;  and  fince  the  afibciation    of  good  fortune 
with  a  moral  conduft  appears  to  be  merely  accidental.     Even  the 
utmoft  prudence  of  man  cannot  rear  the  fabric  of  felicity,  though 
he   fliould  aft  in   defianfce   of  morality,   and  endeavour    to  make 
happinefs   his  only   and  unconditional  cbjeft.     For  the  latter  de- 
pends on  too  many  circumftances,    over  which  man  has  no  power 
of  controul,  and  through  which  frequently  the  wifeft  plans  may  be 
rendered  abortive. 

The  happinefs  of  a  moral  being,  in  a  moral  order  of  things,  can 
pvoperly  be  faid  to  confift  in  no  other  maxim  than  the  following  ; 


88  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

**  every  thing  that  happens,  is  in  fl;rl£l  harmony  with  the  geherat 
laws  of  morality."  Even  the  good  manr  can  wifli  and  defiie  no- 
thing fnrther.  If  he  now  admit  a  moral  principle  or  a  God,  he 
muft  likewijc  expect,  that  every  thing  Qiall  really  correfpond  with 
moral  purpofes  j  and  confequently,  if  a  man  aft  virtuoufly,  he  can 
expect  nothing  elfe,  in  a  moral  world,  but  real  happinefs.  In  faft, 
therefore,  man  awaits  his  profperity  from  good  fortune,  the  dif- 
penfation  of  which  is  entrufted  to  a  wife  Providence.  This  hope 
is  entirely  fupported  by  the  belief  In  God,  and  it  is  equally  con- 
llant  and  fafe  as  the  latter. 

Since  man  poffeffes  no  p6wcr  over  all  thofe  things,  which  relate 
to  his  ultimate  deftlnation,  no  other  condition  of  attaining  this  re- 
mains  for  the  virtuous,  but  to  confidcr  the  whole  world  fubjeft  to 
a  moral  order  j  that  Is,  to  look  upon   moral  beings  as   abfolute 
and  ultimate  purpofes,  to  which  every  thing  relates,  that  is  real  in 
the  world  ;  or  to  conflder  thefe  beings  as  containing  the  caufe,  on 
account  of  which  every  thing   is  thus  conftltuted,  and  not  other- 
wife.     For,  if  thefe  contain  the  ground  of  the  conflltutlon  of  the 
world,  there  muft  exift  a  certain  order  in  it,  conformably  to  which 
the  effentlal  purpofes  of  moral  beings  can  be  attained.     Allowing, 
therefore,  that  happinefs  is  a    part  of  the  eSentlal  deftlnation  of 
human  nature,  and  that  men  thcmfelves  belong  to  the  clafs  of  mo- 
ral   beings ;    nature    Itfelf  muft    be    fo    conftltuted,    that    their 
happinefs  can  be  effefted  by  her  aid.     But  the  deftlnation  of  hu- 
man   nature  Is   not  completed  by  the    attainment   of  that  hap- 
pinefs alone,    which  confifts    in  mere   enjoyment,   but  by   mora- 
lity, In  union  with  happinefs,  and  indeed  fo  modified,  that  the  lat- 
ter be  in  proportion  to  the  former.     Morality  muft  determine  the 
meafure  of  happinefs  allotted  tO' every  individual,  and  not  <uice  ver- 
fa.     If  thus  we  ftiall  conceive    the  attainment  of  our  deftlnation, 
as  a  poflible  event  j  we  muft  admit  a  thorough  moral  order  as  realw 
]y  fubfifting,  though  It  be  not  In  our  power  to  produce  an  objeEiive' 
proof  of  It.     The  ground,  on  vfhich  we  admit   It,  lies  merely  in 
our  own  mind,  and  Indeed  in  the  convlftion,  that  we  are  moral  be- 
ings defigned  for  ultimate  purpofes.     To  conceive  thefe  beings  ih 
ronncftlon  with  other  things.  Is  altogether  Impoffible,  unlefs  we 
grant,  that   the  latter  relate  to  the  former,   ar.d  facilitate  the  at- 

talnmect 


KANT'S  WORl^.  89 

talnment  of  their  deftination.  It  is,  consequently,  the  reflexion 
made  upon  our  own  moral  nature,  which  induces  us  to  admit  the 
exiftence  of  a  moral  order. 

Though  we  cannot  difcover  this  moral  order  in  experience,  the 
truth  of  it  is  not  thereby  in  the  leaft  degree  aflPefted,  nor  can  it  be 
difputed  from  that  fource.  For  experience  could  no  where  prove  the 
exiftence  of  a  thorough  moral  order,  although  all  the  phenomena, 
that  we  obferve,  (hould  correfpond  with  the  idea  of  it.  It  would 
ever  remain  doubtful,  whether  this  correfpondence  be  general  and 
conttant,  unlefs  a  very  different  manner  of  reprefenting  it,  afforded 
certainty  to  the  conclufions  thus  arifing.  For,  to  comprehend  the 
reality  of  fuch  an  order  a  pojleriori,  there  would  be  required  a 
complete  view  of  all  things  and  their  relations  to  one  another  j  a 
view,  that  is  unattainable  by  beings  fo  conftituted  as  we  are.  And 
the  circumftance  of  our  finding  virtue  frequently  accompanied  by- 
misfortune,  is  by  no  means  inconliftent  with  the  idea  of  a  moral 
order.  This  Idea  does  not  imply  the  neceflity,  that  every  moral 
a£lIon  fhall  be  immediately  attended  with  a  certain  portion  of  hap- 
pinefs,  or  that  the  latteir  be  phyfically  produced :  it  involves  only 
this^much,  that  the  lot  of  man,  upon  the  whole,  Is  In  a  certain 
harmony  with  his  moral  character.  In  this  way  it  is  not  diiHcult 
to  conceive,  that  one  or  feveral  periods  of  his  exiftence  are  parti- 
cularly defigned  for  the  purpofe  of  improving  his  moral  nature,  and 
that  good  and  bad  fortune  may  be  fo  diftrlbuted  during  thefe  pe- 
riods, that  they  can  be  ufed  rather  as  the'means  of  improvement, 
than  to  ferve  as  the  fcale  of  afcertaining  the  moral  excellence  of 
the  individual.  Neverthclefs,  the  regulations  in  the  world  may 
be  fo  made,  that  fuch  a  fhare'  of  happinefs  ariles  from  them  for 
each  moral  being,  as  it  has  merited  b^  its  condu6l.  We  elevate 
man  above  the  confideration  of  his  being  a  paflive  inftrument  in 
the  hands  of  nature,  when  we  reprefent  him  as  facrificing  a  part 
of  that  happinefs,  of  which  his  fenfitive  nature  is  fufceptible  ;  in 
order  to  contribute  his  fliare,  that  other  rational  beings  may  like- 
wife  attain  their  deftination  j  provided  that  he  does  not  neglefl  his 
own.  For,  Reafon  itfelf  muft  approve  of  fuch  a  regulation.  If 
now,  from  this  point  of  view,  we  confider  the  events  and  the  vi- 
cifliiudes  of  human  life,  which  we  obferve  by  experience  in  the 

M  world 


6o  ■  ELEMENTARY  VIE W  OF 

world  of  fenfe  j  all  the  fads  thus  obtained  are  perfefkly  confiilent 
with  the  poflibility  gf  a  moral  order.  We  muft  however  not  at- 
tempt to  make  fuch  ufe  of  them,  as  if  they  were  abfolute  proofs  j 
fince  they  can  be  ufed  only  as  arguments  for  difproving  the  con- 
trary of  a  moral  order.  But  if  we  reprefent  the  queftion  upon 
this  foundation,  that  moral  aftions  oughi  to  produce  happinefs  con- 
formably to  the  laws  of  nature  j  then  the  inftances,  by  which  we 
prove  that  virtue  and  misfortune  are  in  certain  cafes  accompanied 
by  one  another,  would  not  only  be  irrefutable,  but  they  would 
likewife  prove  the  nullity  of  this  complete  moral  order. 

In  the  ^antian  philofophy,  it  is  a  matter  of  no  importance,  and 
wholly  undetermined,  how.  fuch  an  order  is  reo/(y  pofFible.  The 
reality,  of  it,  Kant  does  not  attempt  to  demonftrate  from  a  pre- 
tended view  of  its  caufes  j  he  rather  grants,  that  thefe  are  to  us 
altogether  inconceivable.  He  only  admits  this  moral  order,  on  ac- 
count of  the  ftrong  and  conftant  demands  of  Reafon  j  a  faculty, 
that  thinks  or  judges  of  moral  beings  as  abfolute  and  ultimate,  to 
whom  every  thing  eife  relates,  and  who  confequently  muft  deter- 
mine the  order  of  all  other  things, -and  their  relations  to  the  mo- 
ral beings  therafelves. 

Thus  we  prefupjQofe  a  moral  order,  while  we  confidently  rely 
upon  our  Reafon  an|l  our  moral  nature  j  becaufe  the  reality  of  it 
muft  be  conceived  from  its  being  fo  intimately  ynitcd  with  our 
moral  feelings.  It  is  certain,  that  we  are  moral  agents,  confequent- 
ly ihe  conditions  muft  alfo  be  certain,  without  which  our  moral 
nature,  in  the  eyes  of  our  own  Reafon,  would  be  a  nonentity.  Ac- 
cording to  Reafon,  however,  our  moral  nature  cpnfills  in  this, 
that  man  is  an  abfolute  purpofe,  to  which  all  other  things  are  fu- 
bordinate  means.  Yet  morality  and  happinefs,  united  to  one  pur- 
pofe, compofe  the  deftination  ofraan,  fo  that  the  former  determines 
the  latter.  Without  a  moral  order,  this  is  impoflible.  And  as, 
agreeably  to  Reafon,  moral  beings  rnuft  have  it  in  their  power  to 
contribute  towards  the  attaimiaent  of  their  deftination  ;  the  reality 
of  a  moral  order  muft  likewife  be  admitted  j  becaufe  it  is  the  only 
condition-,  upon  which  this  inference  can  be  juftified.  If  we  then 
allow  the  exiftence  of  a  moral  order,  we  muft  ajfo  fubmit  to  thofc 
conditions,  without  which  It  is  wholly  impoflible.     Though  we 

caunot 


KANT'S  WORKS.  91 

cannot  comprehend  the  real  poflibllity  of  this  order,  we  muft  nc- 
verthelefs  grant,  that  thofe  conditions  ai"e  real,  without  which 
fuch  an  order  cannot  at  all  be  conceived.  But  it  is  inconceiva- 
ble, if  we  do  not  admit,  l,  that  the  laws  of  the  world  of  fcnfe  are 
not  the  only  ones,  by  which  all  events  are  determined  :  that  the 
world  itfelf  is  fubjefl  to  ftill  higher  laws,  and  upon  the  whole,  re- 
lates to  foraething,  which  is  independent  on  the  world,  or  exter- 
nal to  it,  afid  to  which  the  world  is  merely  fubfervient  j  2,  that 
there  exifts  a  caufe,  through  which  every  thing  is  determined  ac- 
cording to  the  laws  of  a  moral  order,  to  which  confequently  every 
thing  is  fubjeft,  and  upon  which  every  thing  in  the  world  depends ; 
and  laftly,  3,  that  the  perfonallty  or  individual  exigence  of  man 
continues,  in-  order  that  through  him  the  moral  order  may  be  ac- 
compliftied. 

It  is  eafy  to  perceive,  that  the  firft  of  thefe  poflulates  leads  to 
the  idea  of  a  fuperfcnfible  world,  which  is  independent  on  the  lavfs 
fubfifting  in  the  world  of  fenfe,  k-  e.  which  is  yree.  The  fecond 
idesrinvolves  the  conception  of  a  Deity.  For,  if  we  feparate  every 
arbitrary  and  adventitious  matter  from  the  idea  of  the  Deity,  and 
preferve  that  alone,  upon  which  a  reprefentation  worthy  of  fo  fa- 
blime  a  Being  can  be  eftablifhed  j  nothing  further  remains  than 
the  thought  of  a  conneftion  or  relation,  by  means  of  which  that 
Being  muft  be  the  foundation  of  a  thorough  moral  order.  No 
other  idea,  however,  but  that  of  an  intelligent  power  could  entitle 
or  even  induce  us  to  entertain  a  notion  like  that  of  moral  order  j 
hence  it  is  conceivable,  how  in  this  idea  alone  wc  meet  with  fome 
analogy,  that  ferves  to  diftinguifh  fo  fublime^a  Being,  and,  toge- 
ther with  the  moft  perfe£t  will,  to  attribute  to  it  all  thofe  proper- 
ties, through  which  only  fo  facrcd  a  will  can  be  exerted;  Laftly  j 
that  the  third  principle  before  ftatcd,  lead*  to  xht  immortality  of 
tBefoul,  is  now  a  very  rational  inference; 

The  idea  of  Liberty,  or  the  faculty  of  determining  our  adions 
uninfluenced  by  fcnfuai  motives,  and  felf  aftive,  through  the  con- 
fcioufnefs  of  the  moral  law  alone  ;  this  idea  is  involved  in  that  of 
morality.  We  therefore  undoubtedly  poiTefs  that  liberty,  as  we 
are  moral  agents  •,  and  the  conception  of  liberty  m  general  has 
been  perfe^ly  juftiSed  b^  fho'Ving,  that  the  phjfical  world  is  not 

M  2  the 


9i  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF. 

the  only  one,  which  influences  the  nature  of  man  j  that  it  is  con^ 
nedled  with  beings  of  a  very  different  kind,  whofe  a£lions  are  de- 
termined by  very  different  laws.  The  idea  of  a  moral  order  ftands 
in  the  fame  relation  to  that  of  our  being  moral  agents,  whofe  de- 
llination  is  certainly  attainable  j  as  the  former  is  connefted  with 
the  idea  of  God  and  Immortality  ;  fo  that  if  we  a<lmit  the  truth 
of  the  one,  the  relation  of  the  others  mull  like  wife  be  granted. 
Thus  we  are  fufficiently  and  perfeftly  authorized  to  believe  in 
God  and  Immortality,  as  the  two  effential  pillars  of  all  Religion  j 
though  the  arguments  for  this  belief,  are  not  taken  from  the  per- 
ception of  objecls,  but  are  derived  from  the  more  permanent  na- 
ture of  our  mind. 

Upon  a  Gurfory  view  of  the  ftatement  here  given,  it  might  per- 
haps appear  to  feme  readers,  as  if  in  Knnt's  procefs  of  reafoning, 
firfl  morality  is  reprefented  gs  the  ground-work  of  Religion,  and 
afterwards  Religion  again  is  called  an  aid,  to  fupport  the  idea  of  a 
moral  law*  But,  upon  a  mature  confideratlon  of  the  fubjeft,  this 
appearance  will  very  foon  vaniih.  For,  the  ground  of  difcovcring 
a  morsl  law,  lies  merely  and  exclufively  in  our  Reafdn,  which  pre- 
fents  to  us  this  law,  as  foon  as  it  Is  conceived  in  a  praftlcal  or  ac- 
tive fenfe  ;  and  which,  independent  on  all  Religion,  impofcs  upon 
us  the  obligation  of  obferving  the  precepts  of  morality.  But  if, 
with  this  moral  obligation,  "we  compare  nature  and  her  relations 
to  the  dcftinatlon  of  man,  Reafon  requires,  that  nature  fhould 
Jikewife  agree  with  the  deflination  of  moral  beings ;  bccaufe,  in 
the  contrary  cafe,  that  value  which  Reafon  places  upon  its  facul- 
ties and  operations,  and  which  is  to  be  computed  much  higher 
than  Nature  itfelf,  would  not  be  real,  but  altogether  imaginary. 
Thus  convinced  of  a  moral  order,  man  may  certainly  make  ufe  of 
it,  in  order  to  remove  thofe  difEculties,  which  prefent  themfelves 
in  the  pradlice  of  the  moral  law.  The  doubts  and  uncertainties, 
■which  may  arife  againft  the  reality  of  a  moral  order  of  things,  are 
thereby  fuppreffed  ;  the  fenfual  appetites,  too,  are  through  this 
ccnviftlun  fo  modified, and  regulated,  that  they  (hall  be  indulged 
only  with  a  view  of  fuch  an  happinefs  as  is  codfiftent  with  virtue, 
while  they  gradually  become  familiar  with  the  order,  that  is  ma- 
nifeft  throughout  all  nature,.     BeHdes,  this  mode  of  reprefentlng  a 

fvftem 


KANT'S  WORKS. 


93 


iyftcm  contains  a  great  number  of  arguments,  from  which  even  the 
fenfitive  facility  derives  fome  confolation,  if  its  purpofes  fiiould  be 
occafionally  defeated,  and  its  necefTities  too  much  limited  ;  for 
there  (till  remains  a  ftate,  in  which  this  alfo  mayl)e  fatisfied  5  pro- 
vided that  man  perfeveres  in  obeying  the  didatfes  of  morality. 
Thus  Religion  certainly  contains  arguments  in  favour  of  morality, 
and  on  this  very  account  it  is  calculated  to  remove  many  obftaclt.s, 
■which  may  occur  in  the  pra6lice  of  the  moral  law.  Religion, 
therefore,  offers  no  intuitive  ground  of  difcovering  moral  precepts, 
though  it  can  be  employed  as  an  excellent  pfychological  aid  of 
(Irengthening  the  moral  faculty  of  human  nature  ;  fince  it  over- 
comes thofe  difficulties,  which  frequently  arife  from  falfe  reflec- 
tions, and  which  obftruft  the  due  exerclfe  of  that  faculty. 

XXII.  (6)  Mctaphyjifche  Anfangsgr-unde  der  Naturwi/fen- 
fchaft.  Metaphyfical  Principles  of  Natural  Philofophy. 
8vo.  Rigaj  1786.  2d  Edit.  1787,  pp.  158,  and  xxiv  pages 
Preface. 

This  is,  without  exception,  the  moll  profound  of  Kant's  works  j 
and  in  order  to  afford  the  reader  a  concife  view  of  the  author's 
aim,  I  fliall  firft  give  an  abftrafl  from  the  elaborate  Preface  to 
this  publication,  and  then  exhibit  the  principles  of  this  new  fclence, 
in  a  clofe  tranflation. 

*  It  is  of  the.  gre  ate  ft  importance  to  the  progrefs  of  the  fciences, 
"  fays  Kant,"  to  feparate  diflimllar  principles  from  one  another, 
tp  reduce  each  fet  of  them  to  a  particular  fyftem,  that  they  may 
form  a  fcience  of  a  peculiar  kind.  Thus  we  (hall  prevent  that  uncer- 
tainty in  fciences,  which  arlfes  from  confounding  them,  and  In  con- 
fcqucnce  of  which  we  cannot  eafily  diftlnguifli  the  limits,  which, 
in  a  doubtful  cafe,  are  to  be  affigned  to  each  of  them  j  nor  can  .we 
difco^er  the  fource  of  the  errors,  that  may  attend  the  praftical  ap- 
plication of  them.  On  this  account,  I  have  deemed  It  neceffary, 
to  exhibit  fyftematically  the  pure  part  of  Natural  Philofophy 
(^Phyfica generalis),  in  which  metaphyfical  and  mathematical  con- 
flruflions  of  Ideas  occur  promifcuoufly  j  and,  in  treating  of  the 
former,  to  fliow  at  the  fame  time  the  principles  of  that  conflruftion, 

and 


94  .    ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

and  confequently  to  prove  the  poflibillty  of  a  Syftem  of  Natural 
Phllolbphy,  dedueed  from  mathematical  demonftrations.  This  di- 
vifion  of  fciences,  befidc  the  advantage  already  ftated,  is  attended 
with  the  particular  fatisfaflion,  which  the  unify  and  harmony  of 
knowledge  afford,  when  we  can  prevent  the  limits  of  the  fciences 
from  interferiiig  with  one  another.* 

*  As  a  fecond  reafon  of  recommending  this  procefs,  It  may  be 
urged,  that  in  every  department  of  Metaphyfics  we  may  hope  to 
attain  to  abfolute  completenefs^  fuch  as  we  cannot  expeft  in  any  o- 
ther  fpecies  of  knowledge  j  confequently,  the  completcnefs  off 
the  Metaphyfics  of  material  nature  may  te  expe6led,here,  with  the* 
lame  confidence  as  in  the  Metaphyfics  of  nature  In  general.  For^ 
in  Metaphyfics,  the  objecl  is  merely  confidered,  agreeably  to  the 
general  laws  of  thought,  while  in  other  fciences  It  muft  be  repre- 
fented  according  to  the  difFefent  data  of  perception,  whether  this 
be  pure  or  empirical.  In  Metaphyfics,  too,  we  acquire  a  deter- 
mined number  of  cognitions,  which  can  be  completely  exhaufted  j 
becaufe,  here,  the  objeft  muft  be  continually  compared  with  all  the 
neceffary  laws  of  thought  :  while  in  the  other  fciences,  on  account 
of  the  infinite  variety  of  perceptions,  or  objedls  of  thought,  which 
they  prefent  to  the  mind,  we  never  can  attain  to  abfolute  coniplete- 
nefs,  but  may  extend  them  in  Infinitum,  as  is  the  cafe  with  pure 
Mathematics  and  experimental  Phyfics.  I  likewife  believe,  that 
I  have  completely  ftated  th'efe  metaphyfical  principles  of  Natural 
Philofophy,  to  their  utmoft  extent  j  but  though  I  have  fucceeded 
in  this  attempt,  I  do  not  flatter  myfelf  with  having  performed  any 
extraordinary  talk.' 

'  To  complete,  however,  a  metaphyfical  fyftem,  whether  that 
of  nature  in  general,  or  that  of  the  material  world,  the  Table  of 
the  Categories  *  muft  ferve  as  its  Schema.  For  there  arc  in  rea- 
lity no  more  nor  fewer  pure  Intelleflual  notions  concerning  the 
nature  of  things,  than  I  have  ftated  In  that  Table.  All  the  de- 
terminations relative  to  the  general  notion  of  matter,  confequent- 
ly all  that  can  be  conceived  of  it  a  priori y  that  can  be  exhibited 
in  mathematical  conftru£lIon,  or  that  can  be  propofed  as  a  deter- 
mined objeft  of  experience,  muft  admit  of  being  reduced  to  the 
-       .  .   ■   four 

'  Vid.  tJi;  Cat.-^^t:) in ,  p.  4j,  aiiii  their  Sihtmata\  p    47, 


KANT'S  WORKS.      .  9J 

four  clafles  of  the  Categories,  viz.  that  of  Quantity,  Quality,  Re- 
lation, and  Modality.  There  remains  nothing  to  be  difcovered  or 
added  here  ;  but  if  imperfeftions  (hould  occur,  with  refpeft  to 
perfpicuity  and  order,  the  fyftem  in  this  refpeft  may  be  occafional- 
ly  improved.' 

*  The  idea  of  matter  muft,  therefore,  be  examined  through  all 
the  four  mentioned  functions  of  the  intellefl  (in  four  Sedions),-  in 
each  of  which  a  new  determination  of  that  idea  occurs.  The  pri- 
mary attribute' of  fomething,  that  reprefents  an  objeft  of  the  ex- 
ternal fcnfes,  muft  be  motion  ;  for  by  that  only  can  thefe  fenfes 
,be  affefted.  To  this,  the  Underllanding  reduces  all  other  pre- 
dicates of  matter,  that  relate  to.its  nature  j  and  thus  Natural  Phi- 
lofophy  is,  throughout,  either  a  pure  or  applied  theory  of  motion^ 
The  raetaphyfical  principles  of  this  fcience  muft,  confe^ucntly, be, 
divided  into  four  Sedlions  :  \x\x\\e.jirjl  of  which,  motion  is  confi- 
^ered  as  a  pure  quantum,  according  to  its  compofition,  without 
any  quality  of  that  which  is  moveable,  and  hence  n.ay  be  called 
Phoronomy  ;  in  \.\\g  fecond,  motion  is  inveftigated  in  its  relation  Xa 
the  quantity  of  matter,  under  the  name  of  an  originally  moving 
power,  and  Is  therefore  called  Dynamics  j  in  the  third,  matter  is 
examined  in  reciprocal  relation  to  this  quantity,  by  its  peculiar 
motion,  and  appears  under  the  title  of  Mechanics  j  and  in  the 
fourth  Sedlion,  the  motion  or  reft  of  matter  is  determined  merely 
in  relation  to  the  mode  of  reprefenting  it,  or  Modality^  confe- 
quently  as  phenomenon  of  external  fcnfes,  on  vyhich  account  is  i^ 
palled  Phenomenology.' 

Contents. 

Sect.  I.  Metaphyjical principles  of  Vao&.o>iou-i. 

Position  i.  Matter  is  that  which  is  moveable  in  fpace.  That 
fpace,  which  itfelf  is  moveable,  is  called  the  malerialy  or  likewife, 
relative  fpace  \  that,  in  which  all  motiorr  muft  be  ultimately  con- 
ceived (and  which  confcqucBtly  in  its  own  nature  is  abfolutely 
immoveable"),   is   called  the   pure,  or  likewife,   aBfolute fpac:. 

Fofit.  2.  The  motion  of  a  thing  is  the  change  of  its  external  re- 
kilions  to  given  fpace. 


90  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

Foftt.  3.  Rejl  Is  the  perraatient  prefence  (^prcefentia perdurab'ilis) 
in  the  fame  place  j  permanent  however  is  that  which  exifts,  i.  e. 
continues  for  a  certain  time. 

Pojit.  4.  To  conJIruB  the  idea  of  compound  motion,  means  to 
reprefent  motion  a  priori  in  the  perceptive  faculty,  as  far  as  the 
former  arifes  from  two  or  feveral  joint  motions, in  one  moveable 
fpacc. 

Theorem.  Every  motion,  as  objefl  of  experience,  maybe  con- 

fidered,  either  as  the  motion  of  a  body  in  a    refling  fpace,  or  as 

the  rcfl  of  a  body   and,  on  the  other  hand,  motion  of  fpace  in 

oppofite  dire£lion  with  equal  velocity. 

Pqfit.  5.  The  combination  of  motion  is  the  reprefentation  of  the 
motion  of  3  point,  as  being  homologous  with  two  or  feveral  mo- 
tions of  it  utiited  together. 

Sect.  II.  Metaphysical  principles  of  "DYtiXuics. 

Posit.  I,  Matter  is  that  which  is  moveable,  fo  far  as  It ///j  a 
fpace.  Tofil  a  fpace,  is  to  refift  all  that  is  moveable  and  that 
makes  an  effort,  by  its  motion,  to  penetrate  Into  a  certain  fpace. 
A  fpace  that  is  not  filled,  is  a  vacuum. 

Theorem,  1.  Matter  fills  a  fpace,    not  by   Its  mere  exijlcnce, 

but  by  a  particular  moving  power . 

Posit.  2.  The  power  of  attraBion  is  that  moving  power,  by  which 
one  matter  may  be  the  caufe  of  the  approach  of  others  towards  it  j 
or,  in  other  words,  by  which  it  reflfts  the  removal  of  others  from 
it. — 'Y\it  power  of  repulsion  is  that,  by  which  one  matter  may  be 
the  caufe  of  removing  others  from  it  j  or,  in  other  words,  by  which 
it  refills  the  approach  of  others  towards  it. 

Theorem  2d<  Matter  fills  its  fpaces  by  the  repulfive  power  of 

all  its  parts,  I.  e.  by  a  peculiar   power  of  extcnfion,  that  has  a 

determined  degree,   beyond  which  fraaller    or  greater  degrees 

may  be  conceived  in  infinitum. 

Posit  3.  Gne  matter,  in  its  vaolion,  penetrates  another,  when,  by 
means  of  comprcffion,it  completely  removes  the  fpace  of  its  ex- 
tenfion. 

Theorem  3d.  Matter  may  \y^  comprejfedin'm^aitxiiva,  but  It  ne- 
ver can  he  penctraledhy  matter,  however  great  its  prefling  power 
.  -m^y  be. 

Posif. 


KANT^s  WORKS*  97 

Posit,  4.  That  impenetrability  of  matter,  which  depends  upon 
the  refiftance  proportionally  increafing  with  the  degrees  of  com- 
jreffion,  Is  called  relative  j  as  on  the  contrary  that,  which  refts 
upon  thcfuppo/itioriy  that  matter,  as  fuch,  Is  not  liable  to  any  com- 
prefllon  whatever,  is  here  called  abfolute  Impenetrability.— The 
filling  oifpace  with  abfolute  Impenetrability  iftay  ,be  called  matbi- 
maticaly  while  that  of  relative  impenettability  receives  the  name 
of  dynamical, 

Pqfit.  5.  Material fuhfiance  i«  that  in  fpace,  which  is  moveable 
o/itfelf,  i.  e,  feparate  from  every  other  thing  that  exifts  without 
it  In  fpace.  The  motion  of  a  part  of  matter,  by  which  It  ceafe."!!  to 
be  a  part,  isfeparation.  The  feparation  of  the  par^  of  matter  is 
the  phyjtcal  divifion. 

Theorem  4th.  Matter  is  divisible  in  infinitum^  and  indeed  into 
parts,  each  of  which  Is  again  matter. 

Theorem.  5th.  The  poflibillty  of  matter  renders  a  power  of  at- 
traftlon  neceffary  j  thw  being  the  fecond  effentlal  and  funda- 
mental power  of  it. 

Theorem  6th.  By  the  mere  power  of  attraftion,  without  that  of 
rfcpulfion,  we  cannot  conceive  the  poflibillty  of  any  matter. 
Pqfit.  6.  Conta£l:,  in  a  phyfical  fenfc,  Is  Immediate  aftlon  and 
teaftlon  of  impenetrability.  The  aftion  of  one  matter  upon  ano- 
ther, without  qpntadl,  is  the  aBion  at  difiance  {aBio  in  difiam'). 
This  a£lion  at  diftance,  which  is  poflible  even  without  the  aid  of 
intervenlent  matter.  Is  called  the  immediate  aBion  of  matter  upon 
m-aXltr^  through  empty  fpace. 

Theorem  7th.  The  attraHion  ejjential  to  all  matter^  Is  the  im- 
mediate aSIon  of  it  upon  another  matter,  through  empty 
fpace. 

Pofit.  7th.  A  moving  power,  by  which  matters  can  Immediately 
a£l  upon  one  another  only  In  a  common  furface  of  contact,  Is  called 
Si  fuperfic'ial  power  \  but  that,  by  which  one  matter  can  Immedi- 
ately aft  -upon  the  parts  of  another,  even  beyond  the  furface  of 
contaft,  may  be  called  a  penetrating  power. 

Theortm  8th.  The  original  power  of  attraftion,  upon  which 
the  poflibillty  of  matter  itfelf,  as  fuch,  muft  depend,  extends  in 

N  the 


^  ELEMENTARY  VIEVr  OF 

the  univerfe  Immediately  from  every  part  oi  it  to  another  ad  !•- 
iinitum. 

Sect  III.  Metafihyjjcal pnnc?/)7es  of  Ms-CHAmcs. 
Posit.  I.   Matter  is  that  which  is  moveable^  fo  far  as  it  (as  fuch) 
poireffes  moving  power. 

Posit.  2.  The-quaritiiy  of  matter  is  the  amount  of  that  which  ii 
moveable  in  a  detei'mined  fpacfe.  This,  fo  far  as  all  its  parts  are 
confidered  in  their  motions  as  operating  (moving)  at  the  fame 
tirae,  is  called  congeries  5  and  we  fay,  that  a  matter  aQ:s  in  a  con- 
geries, when  all  its  parts,  moved  in  the  fame  direftion,  exercife 
their  moving  power  externally,  and  at  the  fame  time.  A  congeries 
eonfifting  of  a  detefmined  fhape  is  called  ^'body  (in  a  mechanical 
fenfe).  The  magnitude  oi  motion  (mechanically  computed)  is  that 
which  is  eflimated  both  by  the  quantity  of  matter  moved,  and  its 
velocity  :  \\h.tn  phoronomically  confideted,  it  confifts  iltterely  in  the 
degree  of  velocity. 

Ty&f-or^w  ift.  The  quantity  of  ^  I^eee 'of  matteT,  in  compa- 
lifon  with  any  other,  can  be  cftimated  only  by  the  quantity  of 
motion  in  a  given  velocity. 

Theorem  2d.  Firji  law  of  Mechanics.  In  all  the  changes  of  cor- 
poreal nature,  the  quantity  of  matter  rcrnains,  upon ^he  wTiole^ 
without  incrcafing  or  diminifhing. 

Theorem  3<1.  Second  Jaw  of 'Mechanics.  Evety  change  of  tn^t- 
tcr  has  an  external  caufe.  (Every  material  body  remains  in  its 
flate  ofTeft  or  motion,  in  the  fatoe  direftion,  and  with  the  fame 
velocity,  unlcfs  it  be  compelled  by  fome  externalcaafe,  to  change 
this  ftate.) 

Theorem  ^'Ca..  Third  Mechanical  law.  In  every  communicated 
motion,  the  aftion  and  readion  always  correfpand  with  one  ano- 
ther. 

Shot.  IV.  Metaphysical  principles  o/'Pftenomenology. 
'Posit.    Matter  is  that  which  is  moveable,  as  far  as  in  tliat  refpe'iS 
it  can  be  an  objeft  df'expcrience. 

Theorem  itt.  The  motion  of  matter,  in  a  ftralght  line,  is,'with 
refpeft  to  an  empirical  fpace,  merely  -a.  pojfble  predicate,  in  con- 
tradiflinilion  to  the  oppofite  motion  qf  fpace.  ■  The  very  fame 

predicate 


KANT'S  WORKS.  99 

predicate  Is  impojfthle,  if  we  conceive  It  In  no  external  relatloii 
10  xciBk\Xcr/\.  t.zi  abfoliite  motion^  , 

Theorem  2d.  The  circular-  iftotloq  of  matter,  in  contradiAino- 
tlon  to  the  oppofite  motioa  of  fpace,  Is  a  real  predicate  of  it  j 
whereas  the  oppofite  motion  of  a  r^ative  fpace,  if  fubftituted  for 
theirwtionof  the  body,  is  no  teal  motioa  qf  tHe  latter,  ^»4  ii 
confideted  as  fuch,  is  a  raere^illufion. 

Theorem  3d.  In,  every  naoUoix  of  a  body,  by  which  it  is  ma- 
ving,  with  refpeft  to  another  body,  an  oppoC^te  e^ual  motioo,  <^ 
the  latter  is  necejfary, 

XXIII. (7)  Grundlegung  zur  Critik  des  Gefchmacks.  Funda- 
mental principles  of  the  Critlq^ue  of  Tafle.  8vo.  ^j^a^ 
1787. 

Though  we  have  not  fuccecded  in  procuring  a  copy  of  this  pu- 
blication, we  ftiall  find  an  opportunity  of  ftating  the  outlines  of 
Kant's  ideas  upon  this  interefting  fubjeft,  in  a  fubfequent  work, 
under  No.  XXY.  (9),  »*»  vvhich  heconfiders  the  vzxiovls  judgments 
refulting  from  Tajle  }  the  modes,  in  which  they  take  place  in  the 
mind  j  and  their  refpeftive  peculiarities. 

XXIV.   (8.)   Critik  der  praBifchen   Vermnft.     Cntique  o£ 
Pr^flical  Reafon.     8vo. /?z^^.  1788.  ad  Edit.  1792. 

If  we  abftsa^  fsam   the  empirical  part  of  experience,  or  if  we 
conceive  experience    as  a  general  idea,  without  attending  to   any 
variety   that  may  be   contained  undej;  this  idea  j  we  then  acquire 
a   priori  the  conditions  of  it.     The  empirical   or  experimental 
knowledge  obtained  by   experience  formed   the  matter  of  it  j  but 
thofe  conditions,  without  which  experience  cannot  be  reduced  to 
the  rules  of  thought,  we'  have  called  the  form  of  it. — We   muft 
proceed  in  a  fimllar  manner,   when  we  refiedl  upon  the  various 
operations  of  our  w///.     \  will,  for  inflance,  any  one  objedl,  and  I 
immediately  become  confcious  of  the  idea  relating  to  fome  ex- 
pelled pleafure  j  an  idea,  which  is  connefted  with  this  will.   The 
reprefentation  of  that  pleafure,  which  the  poffeflion   of  the  objeft 
might  afford,  is  the  empirical  part  of  the  will,  that  conftitutes  its 
matter.    If  we  abflra^  from  the  latter,  there  is  produced  the  idea 

N2  of 


100  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

O"  a  free  will,  the  condition  as  it  were  of  i  every  thing  that  is  em- 
pirical. If,  further,  we  lay  afide  in  thought  every  thing  that  re- 
fers to  experience,  and  ftill  fuppofe  a  will  completely  determined 
towards  afting  \  there  remains  at  laft  nothing  but  the  faculty  of 
reafon  itfelf,  which  determines  this  will  to  aft.  In  this  manner 
arifes  in  us  the  idea  of  a  PraBical Reafon  j  a  faculty,  which  direfts 
the  will,  independent  of  any  impulfe  of  the  fenfes.  The"  Critique 
of  Praftical  Reafon,"  therefore,  fets  out  with  the  defign  of  in- 
ycftigating  this  faculty. 

CpjTTtNTS. 

Book  I.  Analysis  of  pure  practical  Reason, 
Sect.  I.  Of  the  principles  of  pure  praBical  Reafon. 

Illujlration.  Pradical  principles  are  fuch  as  contain  a  general 
determination  of  the  will,  which  again  has  a  variety  of  fubordi- 
nate  pradical  rules.  They  are  fubjedive  principles  or  maxims, 
when  the  condition  is  confidered  as- applicable  only  to  the  will 
of  the  fubjeft  j  but  they  are  objeBive  principles  or  praftical  laws, 
when  that  condition  is  acknowledged  as  objeftive,  i.  e.  applica-, 
ble  to  the  will  of  every  rational  being. 

Theorem  ift.  All  praSical  principles,  which  prefuppofe  an 
ohjeB  (matter)  of  the  defiring  faculty  as  the  caufe  of  determining 
the  will,  are  wholly  empirical,  and  cannot  furnifti  praflical  laws. 

Theorem  2d.  All  the  pra£lical  principles  relating  to  ^material 
objefts,  are,  as  fuch,  without  exception,  of  one  and  the  fame 
kind,  and  originate  frota  the  general  principle  of  feli-love  or 
perfonal  happinefs. 

Theorem  3d.  If  a  rational  being  (hall  conceive  its  maxims  as 
^  praftical  general  laws  j  it  can  confider  them  only  as  principles, 
which  contain  the  ground  of  determining  the  will,]inot  according 
^Qthe  matter,  but  merely  according  to  the  form. 

Fundamental  law  of  pure  praBical  Reafqn. 

"  Let  fuch  be  your  conduft,  that  the  maxim  of  your  will 
*'  may,  in  every  inftance,  be  admitted  as  the  principle  of  a 
*•  general  law ) — or  in  other  words  : 

^  Aft  in  fuch  a  manner,  as  to  confider  and  to  employ  hvi- 

'*  manity, 


KANT'S  WORKS.  loi 

'■*  manity,  in  your  own  as  well    as  in  every  other  perfon,  al- 

"  ways  as  the  fiur/to/e,  but  never  as  the  means  of  obtaining  your 

"  objea." 

Theorem  4th.  The  autonomy  of  the  will  is  the  only  principle 
of  all  moral  laws,  and  -of  the  duties  conformable  to  them  :  all 
heteronomy  of  choice,  therefore,  not  only  eftabliflies  no  obligation 
"»vhatever,  but  is  likewifc  contrary  to  the  principles  of  it,  and  to 
the  moral  purity  of  the  will.  The  fole  principle  of  morality 
confifts  in  the  independence,  namely  of  all  matter  of  the  law 
(i.  e.  the  objeft  defired),  and  at  the  fame  time  in  the  determi- 
nation of  the  choice  by  the  pure  general  legiflative  forms,  of 
which  a  maxim  muft  be  fufceptible.  That  independence^  how- 
ever, is  liberty  in  a  negative  fenfe  j  whereas  XhXs  peculiar  legifla- 
tive power  of  pure,  and  as  fuch  practical,  Reafon  is  liberty  in  3 
pojitive  fenfe.  Hence  the  moral  law  expreffes  nothing  elfe  but 
the  autonomy  of  pure  praftical  Reafon,  i.  e.  of  liberty,  and  this 
itfelf  is  the  formal  condition  of  all  maxims,  under  which  alone 
they  can  correfpond  with  the  fupreme  praftical  law.  If,  there- 
fore, the  matter  of  volition,  which  can  be  nothing  elfe  but  the 
objeft  of  a  de(ire  that  is  connefted  with  the  law,  enters  into  the 
condition  of  its  pojjihility  j  there  arifes  from  it  the  heteronomy  of 
choice,  namely,  the  dependence  on  the  law  of  nature,  to  follow 
3ny  one  impulfe  or  inclination  j  and  the  will  does  not  give  itfelf 
the  law,  but  only  the  precept  for  a  rational  obfervance  of  patho- 
logical laws.  But  the  maxim,  which  in  this  way  never  can  con- 
tain the  general  legiflative  form,  upon  the  fame  ground  efta- 
blifhes  not  only  no  obligation,  but  is  likewife  contrary  to  the 
principle  of  2.  pure  practical  Reafon,  confequently  alfo  to  moral 
fentiment,  although  the  aftion  thus  arifing  (hould  be  lawful. 

Sect   II.  Of  the  idea  concerning  the  ohjeB  of  pure  practical 
Reafon. 

Table 

Of  the  Categories  of  Liberty  relative  to  the  cognitions  ue 
toffefs  of  the  Good  and  Bad. 

.   1- 


loa  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

X. 

Of  Quantity. 

SubjeElivey  In  confequence  of  maxims :  {opinions  depending  upon 

the  will  of  the  individual  5) 
OhjeElive,  in  confequence  of  principles :  {precepts  j) 
yi priori  objefllve  as  well  as  fubje£live  principles  of  liberty  : 
(laws.) 

'  2.  . 

Of  Quality  : 

practical  rales  af  appetition^  (praceptiva^) 
pra£lical  rules  of  omiffiony  (prohibitive,) 
practical  rules  of  exceptions,  (exceptivce,^ 

3- 
Of  Relation  : 
To  perfonality. 

To  the  condition  of  the  perfon. 
Reciprocally  of  one  perfon  to  the  condition  of  another. 


ffe. 


4- 
Of  Modality  ; 

Permitted  ^nA  nonpermitted  aAions^ 
Duty  and  contrary  to  duty, 
perjedi  and  imperfeB  duty. 

Sect.  III.  Of  the  motives  of  pure  praBical  Keafon. 

Critical  illuflration  of  the  analyfis  of  pure  praflical  Reafon. 

Book  II.  Dialectic  of  pure  practical  Reason. 
I.  Antinomy  of  pure  pra£lical  Reafon. 
II.  Critical  folution  of  this  antinomy. 

III.  Of  the  principal  advantage  of  pure  practical   Reafon,  in  its 

connexion  with  the  fpeculative. 

IV.  On  the  immortality  of  the  foul,  as  a  poftulate  of  pure  prac- 

tical Reafon. 
V.  On  the  exiftence  of  a  God,  as  a  fin&ilar  poftulate. 
VI.  On  the  poftulates  of  pure  praftical  Reafon  in  general. 
VII.  In  what  manner  an  extenfive  improvement  of  pure  praiElical 

Reafon 


itAKT's  WORKS.  103 

Reafon  is  conceivable  In  a  particular  view,  without  increa- 
fihg  at  the  fame  time  its  fpeculative  knowledge. 
VIII.  Of  fuppofcd  truths,  being  a  ncceffary  refultof  pure  Reafon. 
IX.  O'f  the  cognofcible  faculties  of  man,  being  wifely  proportion- 
ed to  his  praftical  deftination. 
Methodical  do6lrinc  of  pure  praftical  Reafon.  \ 


XXV.  (9)  Cridk  der  Uytheilfkraft Critique  of  the  Judging 

Faculty.  8vo.Zi^a«,  1790.  2d  Edit.  Berlin.  I793jpp.  482, 
and  lix  pp.  Preface  and  Intrcduftion. 

The  author's  principal  aim  in  this  work  is  to  inquire,*  whether  the 
^udgingFacultyyVi\i\c\iy  in  the  order  of  our  cognofcible  powers,  forms 
an  intermediate  capacity  between  the  Uhderftandlng  and  Reafon, 
has  likewife  Its  own  principles  aj>rtori  •■,  whether  thefe  are  confii- 
tutive  or  merely  regulative  j  and  whether  that  faculty  of  judg- 
ing affords  a  pridri  the  rule  for  the  fenfatlons  of  pleafure  and  dif- 
pleafure,  which  again  are  the  intermediate  degrees  between  the 
cognofcible  and  appetitive  faculties.' 

'  A  Critique  of  pure  Reafon,  I.  e.  of  our  capacity  of  judging  con- 
formably to  principles  a  priori,  would  be  incomplete,  if  the  Judging 
Faculty,  which  likewife  claims  thefe  principles,  were  not  treated  as 
a  feparate  part  of  that  Critique  j  although,  in  a  fyftem  of  ^ure 
philofophy,  the  principles  of  judgment  muft  not  be  confidered  as  a 
feparate  part,  belonging  either  to  the  theoretical  or  praftlcal  de- 
partment of  the  fyftem  j  but,  In  cafes  of  emergency,  they  may  be 
occafionally  connefted  with  either.  For,  if  fuch  a  fyftem  ftiall 
once  be  eftabllfticd  under  the  general  name  of  Metaphyfics  (a 
work,  the  complete  attainment  of  which  is  by  no  means  impofllble, 
and  which  would  be  of  the  firft  importance  to  the  general  ufe  of 
Reafon')  5  the  Critique  muft  have  previoufly  Inveftigated  the 
ground,  on  which  this  ftrufture  Is  to  be  ercfted,  as  well  as  the  fo- 
lidity  of  the  bafis  of  this  faculty,  that  deduces  its  principles  inde- 
pendent on  experience  :  and  if  any  one  part  of  this  fabric  (hould 
be  found  to  ftand  upon  a  ftight  foundation,  the  downfal  of  the 
whole  would  be  the  inevitable  confequence. 

•  But  we  may  eafily  perceive  from  the  nature  of  the  Judging 
Faculty,  that  the  difcOvery  of  the  peculiar  principle  of  it,  muft  be 

attended 


104  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

attended  with  great  diiHculties ;  for  this  faculty  muft  neceffarii/ 
contain  fome  fuch  principle  a  priori  ;  becaufc,  in  the  contrary  cafe, 
it  could  not  be  fubjefl:  to  the  moft  common  critique  as  a  pajrticulat 
faculty  of  acquiring  knowledge  j  and  becaufe  the  proper  ufe  of  it 
is  fo  neceffary,  and  fo  univerfally  admitted,  that  every  body  is  ac- 
quainted with  its  influence.  That  principle,  however,  muflr  not 
be  derived  from  notions  a  priori^  fince  thefe  are  the  property  of  the 
Underftanding,  and  the  application  of  them  only  belcfngs  to  the 
Judging  Faculty.  Hence  the  latter  muft  furnifh  an  idea,  through 
which  indeed  we  obtain  no  intuition  of  any  objeft,  but  which' 
ferves  as  a  rule  to  that  faculty  itfelf.  This  rule,  however,  is  not 
of  an  objeEiinie  nature,  -fo  that  we  could  compare  the  judgment 
■with  it  in  concrete  j  for  to  do  this,  there  would  be  required  a  fe* 
cond  Judging  Faculty,  in  order  to  enable  us  to  diftinguiflb,  whe- 
ther the  cafe  applies  to  the  lule  or  not. 

•  '  This  perplexity  on  account  of  a  principle  (whether  a  fubjcc- 
tive  or  objective  one)  chiefly  manifefts  itfelf  in  thofe  judgments, 
which  are  called  aejlhetical^  which  relate  to  the  Beautiful  and  the 
Sublime,  whether  that  of  nature  or  art.  And  yet  is  the  critical 
inveftigation  of  a  principle  of  the  Judging  Faculty,  refpefting 
thofe  objefts,  the  moft  important  part  of  the  Critique  of  this 
power.  For,  though  the  aefthetical  judgments,  of  themfelves, 
contribute  nothing  to  the  knowledge  we  obtain  of  things,  they  ne- 
verthelefs  belong  exclufively  to  the  cognofcible  faculty,  and  evince 
the  immediate  relation  of  this  faculty  to  the  fenfations  of  pleafurfc 
and  difpleafure,  in  confequence  of  fome  one  principle  a  priori, 
without  confounding  it  with  that,  which  may  be  the  caufe  of  de- 
termining the  appetitive  faculty  j  becaufc  this  has  its  principles  a 
priori  in  notions,  which  are  the  produce  of  Reafon.' 

Having  preraifed  this  extrad\  from  the  author's  preface  to  the 
work  under  confideratlon,  I  ftiall  only  add  the  refult  of  Kant's  in- 
quiry refpe£ting  the  final  purpofes  of  nature,  as  exhibited  in  the 
Second  Book,  of  this  publication  ;  though,  in  my  opinion,  this  in- 
veftigation forms  the  moft  interefting  and  eflential  part  of  the 
whole.     It  is  as  follows. 

In  conformity  to  our  Reafon,  we  are  obliged  to  aiTume  a  certain 
connection   fubfifting  between  the  final  purpofes  of  nature",  in  the 

fame 


KANT'S  WORKS.  105 

manner  as  our  Underllanding,  in  confequence  of  Its  conftitution,  is 
impelled  to  combine  things  according  to  their  efficient  caufes. 
As  foon  as  we  obferve  a  certain  pofitive  relation  among  things  to 
©ne  another  j  as  foon  as  we  can  reprcfent  to  ourfelvcs  one  thing  as 
poffible  only  through  the  idea  we  poffefs  of  another  j  we  can  re- 
duce fuch  a  combination  to  no  other  idea  than  that  of  final  caufes, 
or  of  means  and  purpofes.  Although  we  are  not  able  to  perceive 
and  to  determine  the  ground,  on  which  that  conneftion  rcfts,  as  a 
thing  independent  on  our  fenfes ;  we  may  ftill  conceive  it,  in  a 
general  manner,  as  the  ground  of  fuch  a  combination  as  can  be 
reprefented  by  us  under  the  idea  of  connefting  final  caufes  j  we 
may  thus  think  of  it  under  the  only  fymbol,  which  can  properly  dc-  ' 
note  the  bafis  of  this  affociation,  namely  that  of  Reafon.  In  this 
way,  however,  we  have  no  title  to  refer  the  modes  and  aftidtis  we 
obferve  in  our  Reafon,  to  that  being  (fubftratum)  Itfelf ;  but  we 
rouft  make  ufe  of  them  only  as  a  fymbol,  which  at  leaft  expreffes 
^milar  relations. 

We  muft,  therefore,  juflly  confider  the  world,  as  if  every  thing 
were  arranged  in  it  by  the  higheft  Underftanding ;  and  we  muft, 
with  the  greateft  attention,  endeavour  to  difcover  in  experience 
■  thofe  traces,  that  are  every  where  fcattered  for  the  fupport  of 
this  couclufion  j  in  order  to  prepare  our  minds  for  the  conviftion 
arifing  from  a  very  coniiderable  number  of  individual  cafes.  In 
this,  we  (hall  the  better  fucceed,  if,  as  the  ground-work  of  this  in- 
quiry, we  exhibit  that  fyftematic  order,  which  is  already  deter- 
mined by  our  Reafon  a  priori^  and  in  confequence  of  which  deter- 
mination the  moral  beings  compofe  the  laft  and  abfolute  purpofe, 
to  which  all  other  things  ultimately  and^-neceiTarlly  refer  as  the 
means  of  the  former.  But  fince  we  can  recognize  no  other  moral 
being  than  man,  we  muft  accordingly  regulate  our  inveftigations 
relative  to  final  purpofes,  and  particularly  attend  to  v.hat  is  con- 
nefted  with  his  nature.  PIcre,  however,  we  muft  abandon  the 
nption  hitherto  cnoneoufly  maintained  by  many  Theologians, 
that  every  thing  \iz%  a  neceffary  relation  to  man.  For,  as  the  world 
of  moral  beings  certainly  confifts  of  more  claffes  than  we  are  ac- 
<5uainted  with,  we  may  indeed  prefuppofe,  that  men  are  abfolute 
purpofes,  yet  far  from  being  exclufivdy  fo  j  and  that  nature  hai 

O  ot 


io6  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

not  been  conftituted  for  the  fake  of  men  alone,  but  that,  at  the 
fame  time,  other  moral  beings  have  not  been  difregarded.  We  may 
therefore  fafely  admit,  that  nature  has  been  fo  formed,  that  the  ef- 
iential  purpofes  concerning  man  can  be  certainly  attained,  not- 
withftanding  that  the  accidental  purpofes  muft  occafionally  remain 
unaccorapliflied,  on  account  of  others  that  are  more  important  and 
neceffary.  For  this  affertion,  which  is  fupported  merely  upon  the 
principles  of  our  moral  nature,  and  not  by  any  intuitive  knowledge 
of  the  world  itfelf,  experience  only  furnifhes  us  with  arguments, 
which  this  order  of  the  world  difplays  in  individual  cafes.  But  the 
greateft  number  of  phenomena  muft  neceflfarily  remain  inexplicable 
to  us,  who  are  acquainted  only  with  the  fmalleft  part  of  the  world, 
and  fron^  whom  the  extenfive  territoiy  of  moral  beings  is  almoft 
wholly  concealed  :  whereas  a  complete  knowledge  of  their  rela- 
tions to  purpofes  would  prefuppofe  not  only  a  thorough  knowledge 
of  the  world  of  fenfe,  but  likewife  that  of  moral  beings.  We  de- 
rive from  the  contemplation  of  the  woild  no  proofs  (ho wing  a  re- 
gular order  of  mora]  purpofes,  but  we  invelligate  the  cafes  corre- 
fponding  with  that  order,  fo  as  to  afcertatn  it  in  the  individual, 
and  to  flrengthen  our  knowledge  upon  what  we  had  already  pre- 
fuppofed,  in  confequence  of  our  moral  nature.  For,  that  which 
affords  fome  knowledge  in  a  general  way,  gives  but  a  flight  degree 
of  convlftion  j  while  that  which  animates  this  convicSlion  and  ren- 
ders it  applicable  to  particular  cafes,  i.  e.  our  fenfation  of  it,  is 
produced  only  by  individual  inftances. 

According  to  thefe  principles,  we  (hall  be  able  to  difcover 
traces  of  divine  wifdom  in  a  great  number  of  phenomena,  without 
neglefting  on  that  account  our  inquiries  into  nature,  which  alone 
can  extend  our  knowledge  of  things  ;  which  previoufly  unfolds  the 
matter  of  knowledge  j  and  which  points  out  the  relations,  where- 
in divine  wifdom  is  evident.  The  field  of  phyfics  is  immenfe  j 
and  by  an  appeal  to  the  Deity,  who  has  produced  nature  Itfelf 
conformably  to  final  caufes,  we  can  fet  no  limits  to  that  field. 
For,  to  obtain  a  complete  view  of  final  caufes,  and  to  apply  them 
to  the  explanation  of  phenomena,  is  entirely  out  of  our  power  ; 
we  can  only  mark  them  as  the  refults  arifing  from  our  intuitive 
knowledge  of  nature,  with  this  limitation  >  tha>,  when  we  obtain  a 

more 


KANTs  WORKS.  107 

hiore  accurate  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  thefe  things,  we  (hall 
Hkewife  difcover  a  greater  variety  of  final  caufes,  and  fo  on  in  in- 
finitum. 

The  contemplation  of  nature,  agreeably  to  final  purpofcs,  is 
therefore  fully  eftabliflied  in  the  conftitution  of  our  Reifon  j  al- 
though we  have  no  intuition  of  the  being  that  is  the  bafis  of  this 
order.  We  can  conceive  this  being  merely  by  the  idea  of  Reafon 
in  general,  as  the  only  pofliblc  way  of  apprehending  it  :  thus," how- 
ever, our  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  that  being  is  not  increafed  j 
and  we  only  fatisfy  a  fubjeftive,  but  fteceffary  claim  of  our  Reafon. 
For  fuch  an  order  of  things  as  depends  upon  a  regular  fucceflion 
of  final  caufes,  can  be  thought  of  by  no  other  relation  but  that  of 
a  caufality  conformably  to  ideas  j  a  refult,  which  exadly  corre- 
fponds  with  the  general  idea  of  an  efficient  Reafon* 

Contents. 

XntroduBion. — I.  Of  the  divifion  of   philofophy    into    theoretical 
and  praftical. 
II.  Of  the  extent  of  philofophy  in  general. 

III.  Of  the  Critique  of  the  Judging  Faculty,  being 

the  medium  of  combining  the    two    paits    of 
philofophy  into  one  fyftera. 

IV.  Of  the  Judging  Faculty  being  a  legiflative  power 

apriori. 
V.  The  principle  of  formal  conformation   {Xvoeck- 
majpgkeit)  of  nature  Is  a  tranfcendental   princi- 
ple   of  the   Judging  Faculty. 

VI.  Of    the  connexion    between    the    fenfatlon  of 

pleafurc  and    the  Idea  of  the  conformation  of 
nature. 

VII.  On  the  aellhetical  method  of  reprefenting  this 
conformation. 

VHI.  On  the  logical  method  of  exhibiting  the  fame. 
IX.  On  the  connexions    formed   between  the  le- 
giflative a61s  of  the  Undcrflanding  and  Reafon, 
by  means  of  the  Judging  Faculty. 

O  2  The 


108  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 


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KANT^s  WORKS.  loc^ 

Division  I.  Critique   of  the  aesthetical  Faculty  of 
Judging. 

Sect.  I.  Analysis  of  the  Aesthetical  Jcdging  Faculty. 
Book  I.  Analyjis  of  the  Beautiful. 
First  wodification  of  the  "judgment  ofTaJie  according  to  its  quality, 
J  I-  The  judgment    of  tafte  is  aefthetical.     2.  The    approbation 
cetermined  by  this  judgment  is  not  influenced  by  any  felf-intc- 
left  relative  to  the  objed.     3.  The  approbation,  or  the  fatisfac- 
tion  we  exprefs  upon  what  is  agreeable^  is  conneAed  with  fclf- 
intcreft.     4.  The  fame  is  the  cafe  with   regard  to  what  1%  good, 
5.  Comparifon  of  the  three  fpecifically  different  kinds  of  fatis- , 
faflion. 

Second  modification  of  the  Judgment  of  Tojle^  namely  according  to 
its  quantity. 

$  6.  That  which  Is  reprefented  as  an  obje<Sl  of  univerfal  approba- 
tion, Independent  on  collateral  notions,  Is  called  Beautiful.  7. 
Comparifon  of  the  Beautiful,  the  Agreeable,  and  the  Good,  by 
-the  above  ftaled  charafter.  8.  The  univerfality  of  approba- 
tion, in  a  judgment  of  tafte,  is  reprefented  only  in  a  fubjeftlve 
fenfe.  9.  Inveftigation  of  the  qucftlon  :  whether  in  a  judgment 
of  tafte  the  fenfe  of  pleafure  precede  the  aft  of  judging  upon 
the  objeft,  or  follow  it. 

Third  modification  of  the  judgments  of  Tafe,  according  to  their 

RELATION  to  purpofes. 
\  10.  Of  Conformation  in  general.     11.  The  judgment  of  tafte  Is; 
wholly  founded  upon  iht  fortn  or  the  nexus  finalis  of  an  objeft, 
(or  on  the  manner  of  reprefenting   that  objeft  to    the   mind). 

12.  The  judgment  of  tafte   depends  upon  principles  a  priori. 

13.  14.  This  judgment  Is  not  related  to  any  emotion  of  the 
mind.  15.  It  Is  equally  unconnefted  with  the  idea  of  perfeftion. 
16.  That  judgment  of  tafte,  by  which  an  objeft  is- declared  to  be 
beautiful  only  under  a   certain  condition,   cannot  be  called  a 

pure  judgment,  i  7.  On  the  prototype  of  Beauty.  ' 

Fourth  modification  of  the  Judgment    ofTa/Ie,  according  to  the 

modality  of  the  fatisfaElion  in  the  object. 

§    10.  This  modality  of  an  aefthetical  jndgment  is  not  a  neceffary, 

but 


no  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

but  an  exeinjilary  determination  of  all  individuals,  refpc6ling  \ 
judgment,  that  is  confidered  as  an  example  of  a  general  rule,  tht 
particulars  of  which  cannot  be  defined.  19.  The  fubjedive 
neceflity,  which  we  attribute  to  an  aefthetical  judgment,  is  con- 
ditional. 20.  The  condition  of  the  neceffity,  which  a  judgment 
of  tafte  fuppofes,  is  the  idea  of  a  common  fcnfe.  21.  Whetlier 
we  have  grounds,  on  which  we  may  conclude  the  reality  of  a 
common  fenfe.  22.  The  neceflity  of  tlie  general  approbation, 
which  is  conceived  in  an  aefthetical  judgment,  is  a  fubjeftivc 
neceflity,  which,  under  the  fuppofltion  of  a  common  fenfe,  is  te- 
prefentcd  as  objeiflive. 

CORROLLARIES  FROM  THESE  FOUR  MODIFICATIOl.S. 

I.  Tojle  is  the  faculty  of  judging  of  an  objcft,  or  of  reprefen^- 
ing  it  by  mears  of  approbation  or  difapprobation,  unconnefted 
with  any  felf- inter e/}.  The  objeft  of  fuch  approbation  is  cal- 
led Beautiful. 

II.  Beautiful  IS  that  which  affords  unlverfal  fatlsfaftion,  without 
reducing  it  to  a  certain  idea. 

III.  Beauty  is  the  conformation  or  nexus finalis  of  an  objeft,  fs 
far  as  it  is  obferved   in  it,  ivithout  the  reprefentation  of  a  pur- 

IV.  Beautiful  is  that  which  is  recognized  as  an  objeft  of  ne- 
cejfary  fatisfadlion,  without  combining  with  it  a  particular  idea. 

Book  II.  Analyfis  of  the  Sublime. 

§  23.  Tranlition  from  the  judging  power  of  the  Beautiful  to  that 
of  the  Sublime.  24.  Of  the  divifion  of  an  inquiry  into  the 
fenfation  of  the  Sublime.  A.  On  the  mathematical  Subfime. 
25.  Definition  of  the  Sublime  :  "  Sublime,  in  general,  is  that 
which  is  abfolutely  great,  which  admits  of  no  comparifon,  to 
think,  of  which  only  proves  a  faculty  of  the  mind,  which  is  not 
fubjeft  to  any  fcale  of  the  fenfes,  &c.'*  26.  Of  the  mathema- 
tical computation  of  natural  obje(5ls,  which  is  requifite  to  pro- 
duce the  idea  of  the  Sublime.  27.  Of  the  quality  of  the 
fatisfa£lion  we  receive  in  judging  of  the  Sublime.  B.  On  the 
dynamical  Sublime  of  nature.  28.  NatuHe  confidered  as  might 
(^botentia).     29.   On  the   modality  of  the  judgment  refnedling 

the 


KANT'S  WORKS.  iii 

the  Sublime  of  nature. — DeduBion  of  the  pure  ojlhctkal  judg- 
ments.— 30.  The  deduction  of  aefthetical  judgments  upon  the 
objefts  of  nature  muft  not  be  direfted  to  what  we  call  fublime 
in  the  latter,  but  to  the  Beautiful  only.  31.  On  the  proper 
method  of  this  dedu61Ion.  32.  Flrjl  peculiarity  of  an  aefthetical 
judgment  ;  "  that  it  determines  its  objedt  with  refpeft  to  the 
fatisfafllon  found  in  it,  at  the  fame  time  claiming  the  approba- 
tion of  ru^rr)'  body,  Z3  a  it  were  obJeSiive,''^  33.  ■SVroff^/ peculia- 
rity :  "  that  it  cannot  at  all  be  determined  by  argumental  proofs, 
as  if  it  were  vatxtXy  fubje&ivey  34.  No  objedlive  principle  of 
tafte  can  be  difcovered.  35.  The  principle  of  tafte  is  the 
fubjedlivc  principle  of  the  judging  faculty  in  general.  ^6.  How 
the  deduftion  of  aefthetical  judgments  muft  be  carried  on.  37. 
What  is  properly  afferted  a  priori,  in  this  judgment,  concerning 
the  obje£t.  38.  Dedu(5lion  of  aefthetical  judgments.  39.  How 
a  fenfation  can  be  communicated.  40.  Of  Tafte,  as  a  fpecies 
oifetifus  communis,  41.  Of  the  empirical  intcreft  in  the  Beau- 
tiful. 42.  Of  the  intelle£lual  inteieft.  43.  Of  art  in  general. 
*'  /in  is  diftlnguifaed  from  Nature,  like  doing  {faccre')  from 
acting  or  operating  in  general  (^cgcre)  5  and  the  produclion  of 
the  former,  i.  e.  work  {opui)  is  diftinguiftied  from  the  latter  as 
operation  ^cffc&us^. — Art,  as  human  ingenuity,  is  fuilher  dif- 
tinguiftied from  Science,  like  the  practical  from  the  theoretical 
part  of  geometry  ;  for  to  be  acquainted  with  the  principles  of 
navigation,  for  inftance,  does  not  yet  form  a  pra6lical  naviga- 
tor :  hence  the  Sciences  imply  the  knowledge  of  things,  and 
the  Arts  teach  us  the  practical  application  of  that  knowledge.-— 
Laftly,  j^it  is  diftinguiftied  from  handicraft ;  the  former  may  be 
called yrf<r,  the  latter,  mercenary  art^  44.  Of  the  fine  arts. 
45.  By  fine  art?  is  underftood  any  art,  fo  far  as  it,  at  the  fame 
lime,  is  imitative  of  nature.  46,  47.  The  fine  arts  are  the  ef- 
forts of  genius.  48.  Of  the  diftinftion  fubfifting  between  ge- 
nius and  tafte.  *•  To  judge  of  beautiful  obje£ts,  as  fuch,  re- 
quires tajie ;  but  the  art  of  producing  fuch  objefts,  fuppofes  gc- 
nius.^^  49.  Of  the  faculties  of  the  mind,  which  compofe  what 
is  called  genius,  jo.  Tafte  and  genius  muft  be  combined  in  the 
produflions  of  the  fine  aits.   5 1 .  Of  the  divifion  of  fine  the  arts  : 


Ill  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

*'  I.)  tlie  arts  of  language,  viz.  Oratory  and  Poetry,  2.)  tlie 
arts  of  fenfible  Imitation,  which  are  cither  thofe  of  true  or  of 
illufory  exhibitions,  the  former  are  called  Plajllc,  the  latter 
Painting  : — PIqfiic  includes  Statuary  and  ArcbilcBure  j  paint- 
ing confifts  either  in  copying  beauteous  nature,  or  in  beau- 
ti-'ully  arranging  her  produftions  j  i.  e.  in  the  refpeftive  arts  of 
Painting  or  Pleafure -gardening  ; — 3.)  the  beautiful  combination 
of  external  fenfations,  viz.  the  arts  of  Mujic  and  Dying.'''* 
52.  Of  the  combination  of  the  fine  arts  in  one  and  the  fame 
produftion.  53.  Comparifon  of  the  fine  arts  with  one  another, 
with  regard  to  their  aefthetical  value. 

Sect.  II.  Dialectic  of  the  Aesthf.tical  Jcdging  Faculty. 
^   SS — 57-  Repfcfentation  and  Solution  of  the  Antinomy  of  Tafte. 

58.  On  the  Idealifm  of  conformation  in  nature    as  well  as  art, 
being  the  only  principle  of  the  aefthetical  faculty    of  judging. 

59,  Of  Beauty  as  the  fymbol  of  Morality,     60.  Append.     Of 
the  methodical  do6lrine  of  Tafte. 

Division'  II.  Critiqtte  of  the  Teleoi^ogical  Faculty  of 
Judging. 

§   61.  Of  the  objedive  conformation  of  nature. 

Se&.  I.  Analyjis  of  the  teleologlcal faculty  of  fudging. 

§  62.  Of  the  objective  conformation,  which  is  merely  formal,  in 
(liftindion  fro^i  what  is  material.  63.  Of  the  relative  con- 
formation of  nature,  in  diftinftion  from  the  internal.  64.  Of 
the  peculiar  cliarafter  of  things,  as  purpofes  of  nature.  6^. 
Things,  as  natural  purpofes,  are  organized  beings.  66.  Of  the 
principle  of  judging  of  the  internal  conformation  of  organized 
beings.  67.-  Of  the  teolological  principle  of  judging  of  Nature 
in  general,  as  a   fyftem   of  purpofes.     68.  Of  the  principle    of 

'     Teleology,  as  an  internal  principle  of  Natural  Phllofophy. 

Seil.  II.  Diale&ic  of  the  teleologichl,Faculty  of  fudging. 

\  69.  The  antinomy  of  the  Judging  Faculty.  70,  71.  Repre- 
fentation    and   folution  of   this  antinomy.     72.  Of  the    various 

fvftems 


KANTs  WORKS.  ,  113 

fyftems  refpe£ling  the  conformation  of  nature.  73.  None  of 
thcfe  fyftcms  is  fatisfa£lory.  74.  The  caufe  of  the  impoflibility 
of  treating  this  i^ea,'*'  that  nature  is  technically  arranged,"  in  a 
dogmatical  manner,  lies  in  our  incapacity  of  explaining  the  de- 
ffgn  or  aim  of  nature.  75.  The  idea  of  an  objeftive  conforma- 
tion of  nature  is  a  critical  principle  of  Reafon,  belonging  to  the 
reflex  Faculty  of  Judging.  76.  Illuftrating  reraarJts.  77.  Of 
the  peculiarity  of  the  human  underftanding,  from  which  ihc 
idea  of  the  purpofcs  of  nature  arifes.  78.  On  the  principle  of 
the  univcrfal  mechanifm  of  matter,  united  with  the  teleologic^l 
principle  in  the  technical  (archite^onjc)  arrange^ient  of  na-* 
tujre. 

Apfendix.  Methodical  doElrine  of  the  teleolvgtcal  Faculty  of  Judging. 

j  79.  Whether  Teleology  ought  to  be  treated  as  a  branch  of 
Phyfics.  80.  Of  the  nccefTity  of  clafling  the  principle  of  me- 
chanifm under  that  of  teleology,  when  we  attempt  to  explain  a 
thing  as  a  defign  of  nature,  ^i.  On  the  aflbciation  of  ^lecha- 
nifm  with  the  teleplogical  principle,  accounting  for  natural  pu,r- 
pofes,  as  being  the  produftions  of  nature,  82.  Of  the  teleolo- 
gical  fyftem  in  th?  external  relations  of  organized  beings.  83. 
Of  the  laft  purpofe  (defign)  of  nature  as  a  tijleological  fyftenj, 
84.  Of  the  final  purpofesof  the  exjUence  of  a  world,  i.  e.  of  thie 
creation  itfelf.  85.  Of  phyfico-theology.  86.  Of  ethico-theology. 
87.  Of  the  moral  proof  ofth*  exigence  of  God.  88I  The  validity 
of  this  moral  proof  is  limited.  89.  Qf  the  ufe  of  the  moral  argu- 
ment. 90.  Of  the  manner  of  admitting  things  as  true,  in  amoral 
proof  of  the  exiflence  of  God.  91.  Of  the  manner  ofconfidering 
tilings  as  true,  by  means  of  a  pradical  belief, 


XXVI.  Ueier  eine  Entdeckung^  nach  der  alle  Critik  der  retnen 
Vernunft  durch  eine  dltere  entbehrlich  gemacht  iverden  foil. 
On  a  certain  dlfcoverj,  by  means  of  whicK  every  (new) 
Critique  of  pure  Reafon  is  faid  to  be  rendered  unneceflary 
by  an  earlier  one.     Svo.  Koenigsberg.  179^. 

We  merely  take  notice  of  this  publication,  here,  for  the  fake  of 
completeu^fs.     It  can  fcatcely  be  confidered.  as  forming  a  dillinub 


114  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

part  of  Kant's  fyftematic  works  j  it  Is  neither  mentioned  as  fuch^ 
by  the  numerous  German  commentators  upon  the  Critical  Philo- 
fophy,  nor  has  Mr  Nitsch  of  London  availed  himfelf  of  this  (ap- 
parently polemic)  produ£lion,  in  his  late  view  of  the  Kantian 
principles. — For  this  reafon,  we  do  not  hefitate  to  pafs  it  over  in 
illence,  and  to  devote  a  confiderable  degree  of  attention  to  the 
following  work,  on  Religion,  which  is  of  infinitely  greater  import- 
ance. 


XXVIL  (lo.)  Die  Religion  innerhalh  dqn  Grm^en  derhlojjem 
Vernunft.  Religion  confidered  withm  the  bounds  of  mei& 
Reafon.  Koenigsberg,  1793.  ad  Edit,  enlarged.  1 794,  pp. 
314,  and  xxvi  pp.  Preface. 

It  cannot  be  a  matter  of  indifference  to  a  philofopher,  to  know 
what  relation  the  prevailing  religion  of  the  age  bears  to  the  fpe- 
culative  notions  of  Reafon,  that  are  propagated  In  the  phllofophlc 
fyftems  of  his  cotemporaries.  Although  the  inquiries  of  this  na- 
ture be  conducted  independently  of  any  pofitivc  religious  creed, 
we  may  yet  congratulate  ourfelves  upon  the  difcovery,  when  that 
pofitivc  religion,  which  guides  a  very  confiderable  part  of  man- 
kind, and  which  has  produced  fo  many  excellent  moral  effefls,  is 
not  found  to  be  altogether  inconfiftent  wirh  the  principles,  main- 
tained by  the  moft  profound  and  eminent  phllofophers.  We  may 
at  the  fame  time  learn,  to  give  a  more  praftical  explanation  upon 
thofe  fymbolical  points,  that  have  hitherto  met  with  no  ofeful  ap- 
plication, and  that  have  occafioned  many  frultlefs  and  bloody  con< 
tefts. 

No  man  of  candour  and  impartiality  will  cenfure  the  defign  of  a 
writer,  who  employs  his  philofophic  maxims  (if  they  be  otherwife 
well  eliabliflied  upon  a  critical  baCs),  in  order  to  ferve  as  prliy 
ciples,  for  explaining  ambiguous  doQrines  and  pofitlve  inftitutions. 
For,  if  the  Deity  has  immediately  intrufted  man  with  fo  valuable 
a  gift  as  religion  actually  is,  it  muft  have  been  corrupted  by  men 
therafelves,  who  have  delivered  it  to  their  poftei;ity,  with  fuch  ad- 
ditions as  are  inconfiftent  with  the  principles  of  Reafon  j  and  the 
true  original  fenfe  of   fuch  traditions    can  be  difcoverad  only 

througl^ 


ilANT's  WORKS.  iiS 

through  the  pjroper  exercifc  of  Reafon.  Every  attempt,  there- 
fore, of  reftoring  harmony  between  the  pofitive  tenets  of  Religion 
and  thofe  of  philofophy,  muft  be  confidered  as  highly  beneficial  to 
mankind  j  becaufe,  in  this  manner  only,  the  defign  of  that  revela- 
tion can  be  confidently  attained. 

Our  fatisfaftion,  too,  muft  be  the  more  complete,  when  we  have 
an  opportunity  of  obferving,  that  fuch  a  revelation  has  not  only 
been  preferved  in  its  purity  during  the  courfe  of  many  centuries, 
but  likcwife  has  been  the  means  of  exercifing  the  rational  facul- 
ties of  man,  upon  the  moft  profound  fubjefts  of  inquiry. — If  we 
compare  the  principal  tenets  of  the  Chriftian  Religion  with  the 
principles  of  the  Kantian  fyftem,  we  (hall  be  agreeably  furprjfed 
to  find,  that  the  former  are  perfeftly  confiftent  with  the  latter^ 
and  that  this  author  fatisfies  all  the  claims,  which  can  be  made  on, 
philofophy,  to  eftabliftx  a  pure  religious  doftrine.  For  the  refult 
of  Kant's  inveftigations,  upon  this  head,  is  nearly  the  following  : 

ill,  That  Chriftianity  is  throughout  a  moral  Religion ^  fuch  as  Rea- 
fon requires  of  every  religious   eftablifhment  whatever.     It  is, 
among  the  numerous  religions  in  the  world,  the  only  one,  which 
derives  Its  principles  from  pure  morals,  and  which  reprefents  to 
man'  his  deftination  as  attainable  only  by  moral  means.  It  indeed 
prefuppofes,  that  he   has  the   power  and  ability  of  doing,  what 
the  law  of  philanthropy  commands  him  ;  though,   at  the  fame 
time,    Religion  apprizes  him  of  that  refiftance,  which  natural 
inclinations  or  carnal  defires  oppofe  to  the  exercife  of  Reafon. 
It  further  appropriates  to  him,  in  exprefs  terms,  the  capacity  of 
overcoming^  thefe  ditRculties ;  and  as   the  human  underftanding 
can  arrive  at  no  objeAIve  knowledge  of  fuch  a  power.    Scrip- 
ture lays  the  foundation  of  it  in  fomething  beyond  the  reach  o£ 
the  fenfes,  while  it  gives  man  the  affurance,  that  the  Deity  may 
alfo  endow  him   with  faculties,   which  materiallj  differ  from 
thofe  of  mere  fenfitive  beings  j  in  order  to  accompliih,  by  the 
power  of  his  will,  whatever  he  judges  to   be  morally  right  and 
and  falutary.     In  this  manner  alone,  Reafon   can  form  a  com- 
plete and  clear  notion,  that  the  moral  power  is  a  fuperfenfibU 
agent,  whofe  origin  or,  in  the  langu^c  of  Kant,  whofc  poffibility 
wc  cannot  by  any  means  conceive. 

Pa  2d 


ii6  ELEMENTARY  ViEW  OF 

2d.  The  tirue  deftlhatJon  of  man  is,  conformably  to  the  principles 
of  ChriftJanity,  not  fought  for  in  the  fenfible,  but  in  the  fupcr- 
fenfible  part  of  nature.  Man  muft  acquire  happinefs  by  his  iho^ 
ral  cofidud,  but  he  ought  not  to  expe<ft  the  former  in  this  world ; 
not  to  derive  his  hopes  of  it  from  his  fenfitive,  but  from  his 
moral  nature.  For,  according  to  the  Chriftian  doftrine,  his  fole 
bufinefs  hefe  confifts  in  prepaiing  and  making  himfelf  worthy  o£ 
it,  through  a  purely  moral  life. 

?d.  The  Chridian  Religion  throughout  prefuppofes  a  moral  go- 
vernment of  the  worlds  ahd  the  idea  of  the  moral  order  of  things 
ferves  as  its  balls :  this  order,  however,  can  be  realized  or  ac- 
compliflied  only  in  relation  to  the  whole  exiftence  of  rational 
beings.  Exadly  in  the  fame  manner  is  this  propofition  deter- 
mined by  our  Reafon. 

ifth.  The  Religion  of  Chrift  enjoins  us  to  confider  good  will  to  all 
mankind  as  the  fupreme  principle  of  all  our  aftions.  It  enjoins  us 
to  unite  felf-love,  in  equal  proportion  with  univerfal  benevolence, 
or  rather  to  make  the  formir  fubfervlent  to  the  purpofes  of  the 
latter  :  and  this  is  precifely  the  didate  of  Reafon,  and  what  Kant 
afferts  to  be  the  fiift  moral  precept.  Through  this  praftical 
law  alone,  the  Chriflians  determine  the  attributes  of  the  Deity, 
fince  they  reprefent  him  as  the   luoral   creator,   prcferver,  and 

.   ruler  of  the  world. 

5th.  Thus,  in  the  religion  of  Chrift,  morality  is  laid  down  as  the 
cogntjfeible  ground,  on  which  we  eftabllfti  our  knowledge  of  the 
Deity.  We  can  boaft,  indeed,  of  no  perceptive  cognition  of 
that  Being  j  yet  we  are  not  contented  with  a  mere  fpeculative 
notion  of  him,  whofe  attribuj^  we  can  clearly  exhibit  in  the 
idea  of  a  moral  intelligent  power*     Laftly, 

$th.  The  whole  aim  of  the  Chriii^ian  Religion  is  the  moral  im- 
provement and  perfeftlon  of  man^  The  whole  purpofe  of  Re- 
liginti,  when  contemplated  by  Reafbn,  can  be  no  otb'er  than  to 
;  render  inan  morally  better,  or  to  improve  his  moral  worth.  It 
.  rauft  admit  of  being  employed  as  the  means  of  ftrengthening  bis 
moral  faculties,  of  removing  the  obftacles  that  frequently  occur 
in  the  pra<3:iee  of  morality,  and  of  fortifying  the  powers  of  f'^ 
Reafon. 


s!fe-'  Even 


KANT'S  WORKS.  117 

Even  the  dogmatical  part  of  the  Chriftian  doftrme  Is  of  fuch  i 
nature  as  to  difplay,  in  the  greater  number  of  inftances,  a  relative 
application  to  morals  j  and  the  principal  tenets  of  it,  have  a  ma- 
nifeft  tendency  to  folve  moral  difficulties.  Thefe  appear  at  fo  early 
a  period  among  men,  that  attempts  to  account  for  them  very  foon 
follow.  Such  explanations,  in  general,  are  extremely  ludicrous, 
efpeeially  in  the  infancy  of  Reafon,  when  fancy  fupplies  its  place, 
and  before  experience  has  been  made  our  guide.  Imagination 
fearcely  liftens  to  thefuggeftions  of  Reafon  j  and,  in  this  fituation, 
men  are  eafily  pleafed  with  any  plaufible,anfwer,  which  their  ancef- 
tors  have  contrived  from  the  rich  ftores  of  mythology.  Though  their 
knowledge  of  objefts  is  not  thereby  increafed,  yet  the  hypothefes 
thus  contrived  are  ufually  ingenious,  fo  that  they  might  aflford 
fome  fatisfaftion,  if  they  were  founded  upon  any  thing  but  fancy. 

This  infant  age  of  reafoning,  if  it  may  be  called  fo,  is  attended 
■with  the  advantage,  that  it  does  not  conceal  the  difficulties,  for 
which  it  cannot  account.  Reafon,  being  gradually  enlightened 
by  philofophy,  is  eonfclous  of  this  chimerical  method  of  explain* 
ing  things  j  but  as  it  imagines  any  other  explanation  to  be  inr- 
poffible  J  it  rather  confiders  the  difficulty  itfelf  as  fiflltious,  in  or-^ 
der  to  fhow,  that  all  attempts  at  explaining  it  muft  be  dlfpenfed- 
with. 

By  graidual  advances,  Reafon  difcover*  that  fuch  difficulties 
really  exift,  and  that  all  fophiftfcaldifputes  upon  them  31*6  of  no' 
avail.  At  the  fame  time,  we  find  that  the  former  are  of  fuch  a 
nature,  as  to  admit  of  no  other  folutlon  than  that  by  prafticat 
ideas,  and  thait  thcfo  idess  are  expreffed  in  thofe  fanciful  explana-' 
tions  of  mythology,  by  the  reprefentation  oifenfible  objefts. 

Now,  fince  every  thing  conne£led  with  morals,  as  well  as  every 
conclulion  drawn  from  that  fource^  isjuftly  denominated  by  the 
•pithet  *  divine  j'  it  is  eafy  to  perceive,  how  thofe  mythological 
objefts,  together  with  the  fiftitious  productions  of  fancy,  could  be 
called  divine  revelations.  For  there  really  is  a  moral  text  or 
meaning  at  the  foundation  of  them,  but  which  can  be  difclofed 
only  in  a  more  improved  ftate  of  Reafon. 

From  this  deduftion,  it  becomes  perfe^ly  evident,  in  what  man- 
ner wcm«tt  with  two  very  differtnt  explanations  of  fuch  books,  a* 

contala 


X>t^  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

contain  the  like  folations  of  moral  propofitions,  under  thfe  title  o£ 
Revelation.  One  of  thefe  explanations  namely  boafts  of  ftating! 
the  literal  fenfe  of  the  Writ,  and  is  ftyled  the  grammatical  inter- 
pretation :  the  other  tracer  the  ideas,  that  may  originally  have  oc- 
cafioned  thofe  fiftions,  and  confiders  the  fubjefts  of  mythology  as 
the  fymbols  of  thofe  ideas.  And  this  is  juftly  called  the  moral  in- 
terpretation. If  now  each  of  the  two  purfues  its  own  method  of 
inquiry,  difputesmay  eafily  arife  among  the  different  interpreters  > 
for  they  will  fiequentiy  find  oppofite  meanings  in  one  and  the 
fanie  paffage. 

Thefe  diflenfions  irt  the  interpretation  of  Scripture,  daily  dif- 
jjlay  their  baneful  effefts,  however  eafily  they  might  be  fettled,  i£ 
the  interpreters  Were  not  averfc  to  enter  into  6  proper  agreement 
upon  certain  points.  For,  no  man  will  deny,  that  all  Revelation^ 
refts  upon  the  inward  ftate  of  our  mind  j  that  all  pofitive  Religions 
are  more  orlefs  perfe£l  expreflions  of  Revelation  j  and  that^  there- 
fore, the  "true  interpretation  of  it  can  be  difcovercd  only  by  our? 
own  fubjedlive  Operations.  Hence  it  is,  that  thofe  only,  who  are 
well  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  the  human  miild,  can  find  the 
true  fenfe  of  Revelations.  Reafon  is  here  likewife  the  fupreme 
tribunal,  from  which  no  further  appeal  can  be  made.  The  doftrines 
of  the  original  evil,  of  reconciliation,  and  many  other  principles, 
peculiar  to  the  Chriftian  Religion,  are  founded  on  a  bafis,  that  ad- 
mits of  very  excellent  and  ufeful  refledlions,  upon  the  moial  con- 
flitutiotl  of  man,  and  upon  the  manner  in  which  his  deilination  has 
been  provided  for.  Nay,  from  thefe  do6lrines,  it  is  evident,  how 
thofe  opinions,  which  appear  to  have  a  common  origin  in  human 
tiature,have  evcir  been  reprcfented  through  certain  narratives  and  al- 
legories J  and  how  the  minds  of  men  in  all  ages  reforted  to  them,  as 
if  they  had  been  condadled  by  an  invifible  hand,  without  being  uni- 
formly  confcious  of  their  true  meaning.  And  is  there  any  greater 
fervice,  which  the  philofophic  inquirer  can  render  mankind,  than 
to  invcSigate  thefe  traces  of  Reafon,  which,  by  their  facred  anti- 
quity, have  fo  important  an  influence  on  human  affairs ;  though 
their  origin  be,  for  the  mofl  part,  involved  in  obfcurity.  From  this 
invefligation,  the  only  explanation  muft  refult,  which  can  contri- 
bute to  th«  attainment  of  that  ultimate  end,  £or  which  man  is  ori« 

ginally 


KANT'S    WORKS.  c*i* 

gliially  defigned.  If,  in  this  way  of  explaining  fymbols^  we  fearch 
merely  for  figns  of  fuch  truths,  as  are  previoufly  dircovered  by  our 
mind,  the  errors  or  miftakes  cannot  be  fo detrimental,  as  if  we  aija- 
ed  at  finding  the  truth  itfelf,  by  means  of  thefe  fymbols.  For,  in 
the  former  cafe,  imagination  can  merely  miflead  us  to  denote  a 
true  thing  by  a  falfe  fymbol  j  whereas,  in  the  latter  cafe,  we  are 
expofed  to  the  danger  of  confounding  a  fymbol  (to  which  our  fancy 
is  but  too  fondly  attached)  with  the  truth  itfelf,  and  thus  of  falling 
into  mere  chimerical  notions.  Let  us  therefore  fearch  in  the  re- 
gions of  truth  J  and,  direfting  our  views  to  the  monuments  of  anti- 
quity, inquire,  whether  among  them  we  can  difcovcr  no  figns 
correfponding  with  our  moral  attainments.  Thus  we  may  faci- 
litate the  accefs  to  the  faniluary  of  truth,  in  as  much  as  our  new 
method  of  explaining  will  afcertain,  whether  we  have  fucceeded 
in  exploring  the  juft  charailer  of  religious  truths,  and  whether  the 
true  fcnfe  of  the  refpedive  fymbuls  has  ever  been  clearly  undet- 
flQod. 

■  Contents.. 

Sect.  I.  On   TjaE  coNjoNgrioN  qr.  league  between  the  bad  akj> 

■      GOOD  principle  J    OR  ON    THE  RADICAL  EVIL  IN  HUMAN  NATURE. 

1.  Of  the  original  difpofition  (inclination)  towards  the  good  in 
human  nature. 

2.  Of  the  propeofity  to.  vice, 

3.  Whether  man  is  naturally  vicious. 

4.  Of  the  origin  of  eVjl  in  huipan  nature. 

General  Remarks.    On  the  manner  of  reftoring  to  its  vigour  thk 
original  dii^o^UQn  t(>wards  the  good. 

Sect.  II.  On  the  contest  between  the    good  principle  And  the 

BAD,  FOR  THE  DOMINION  OVER  MANKIND. 

1.  Of  the  legal  claim  of  the  good  principle  to  the  dominioa 
over  mankind. 

2.  Of  the  legal  claim  of  the  bad  principle  to  that  dominion,  and 
the  conteft  between  the  two  principles. 

S|scr. 


;l2o  element AtlY  view  of 

SxCT,  IIL  On  the   victory  of  the  good  principle  over  the  jja©, 

AND  THE  FODNDATION  OF  A  KINGDOM  OF  GoD  UPON  EarTH. 

Cbaj>.  I.  Philofophical  exhibition  of  the  viBory  of  the  good  principle, 
-    hy  the  foundation  of  a  kingdom  of  God  upon  Egtrth. 

J.  .Of  tlie  ethical  ftate  of  nature. 

2.  Man  mufl  leave  the  ethical  ftate  of  nature,  in  order  to  be- 
come a  member  of  an  ethical  commonwealtb. 

3.  The  idea  of  an  ethical  commonwealth  is  that  oi  9.  people  of 
God,  under  ethical  laws. 

4.  The  idea  0/  a  people  of  God  is  (through  human  regula- 
tions) no  othcrwife  to  be  exhibited  in  pradice,  but  by  the 
formation  of  a  Church. 

5.  The  conftitution  of  every  church  uniformly  begins  with  fome 
or  other  hiftorical  belief  (revelation)  which  may  be  called  the 
church'bclief,  and  this   is  molt  fuitably  founded   on  a  Holy 

„   Writ. 

0.  The  pure  religious  bejief  is  the  fupremc  interpreter  of  church- 
belief. 

7.  The  gradual  tranfition  of  church-belief,  to  the  exclufive  pre- 
valence of  the   pure  religious  belief,  indicates  the   approach 
.  of  a  kingdom  of  God. 

Chap.  n.  llijiorlcal  exhibition  of  the  gradual  foundation  of  the  pre- 

dominance  of  the  good  principle  upon  Earth. 
Sect  IV.  Of  the  worship  and  spurious  worship  rwDER  the  domi- 
nion OF  THE  good  principle,  OR  OF  RELIGION  AND  PI^IESTHOOD  *. 

A.  Of  the  divine  fervice  in  Religion  in  general. 

1.  The  Chriftian  Religion  confidered  as  a  Natural  Religion. 

2.  The  Chriftian  Religion  confidered  as  a  Learned  Religion. 

B.  Of  the  fpurious  war  (hip  of  God ^  in  a  fiatutary  Religion  eflablifhed 
by  men. 

\    I.  Of  the  general fubjeftive  ground    ol  religious  fancy^ 

2. 


*  P/''^"'^""»>  Jn  German,  is  not  literally '  priefthood,' nor  does  it  fignify  « prieft- 
craft ;'  but  it  exprefl'es  the  ufurped  dominion  of  the  clergy,  by  which  they  pre- 
tend to  be  in  the  exdufive  pofleffion  of  the  means  of  difp^hfing  abfolution  from 
^s  and  diylce  grace. 


KANT'S  WORKS  121 

2.  The  moral  principles  of  Religion,  confidcred  in  oppofi^ion 
to  religious  fancy. 

3.  Of  Prieflhood,  as  being  an    order  of  men  engaged  in   the 
fpurious  worfliip  of  the  good  principle. 

4.  Of  the  guide  afforded  by  confcicnce,  in  matters  of  belief. 


3CXVIII.   "Zum  ewigen  FriedeUy  &c.     Projecl  for  a  perpetual 
peace.     A  philofophical  Eflay.     104  pp.  8vo.  Konlgshergy 

1795- 

Of  this  original  work,  which  is  fo  much  and  juftly  admired  on 
the  continent,  we  already  poffefs  an  En^lidi  trarflation.  And  if 
the  appearance  of  this  produ6lion  in  foreign  veriions  could  efta- 
blifli  anv  proof  of  its  merits,  I  might  add,  that  "  Kant's  projecl  fo^ 
a  perpetual  peace"  has  been  likewife  traqilated  into  French,  and 
indeed  vvith  the  fan£llon  of  the  author,  who  has  furniftied  the 
French  tfanflator  with  a  wiy  Supplement,  which  contains,  "  afe- 
cret  article  for  ^  perpetual  peace.'''* 

Many  of  our  political  readers  muft  remember,  that  the  idea  of 
a  perpetual  peace  has  formerly  employed  the  pen  of  the  good 
Abbot  DE  St.  Pierre  j  and  that,  at  a  ftjll  earlier  period,  the  mofl 
patriotic  King  of  whom  France  can  boaft,  Henry  IV,  was  ferlouf- 
]y  cng!^ged  in  modelling  this  beneficent  plan,  which  he  propofed  to 
fubmit  to  the  confidcration  of  his  cotemporary.  potentates,  if  an 
untimely  death  had  not  fruftrated  that  philanthropic  dcfign. — 
Though  pur  fage  politicians  have  always  confidered  plans  of  this 
kind  as  the  fanciful  produflions  of  good-natured  fanatics,  it  may 
on  the  other  h^nd  be  obferved,  tha^  by  difputing  on  the  poflibility 
of  a  perpetual  peace,  the  neceflity  of  a  perpetual  warfare  mufl;  be 
admitted  as  a  maxim  •,  becaufp,  without  b?ing  continually  prepa- 
red for  war,  the  different  dates  of  ^lurope  could  not  long  exift  to- 
gether. This  maxim,  however,  is  as  abominable  in  theory,  as  it 
is  praftically  deftruclive  of  every  principle  of  morality.  For,  if 
/?// independent  dates  adopt  or  continue  to  pradice  fuch  a  maxim, 
and  if  their  views  be  conftantly  direfted  to  the  execution  of  it, 
^hcir  political  exiftence  itfelfmuft  be  extremely  precarious.  Froni 
yhis  fource,  I  am  inclined  to  derive  the  frequent  revolutions  in  the 

Q^  political 


I2a  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

political  world,  the  frequent  returns  from  a  ilate  01  ihtellfi£lual| 
and  moral  improvement   to  their  former   barbaiifm,  and  the  per- 
petual animofities  (emphatically  called,  wfl/ara/ enmities)  between 
man  and  man,  which  are  fo  induftrioufly  tranfmitted  from  one  ge- 
neration to  another  y  efpecially  in  the  frontier-provinces  of  differ- 
ent nations.— Man  is  a  fighting  animal !  is  the  general  outcry  of 
all  thofe  who  are  interefted,  whether  direftly  or   Indire£lly,  in 
propagating  this  abfurd  and  pernicious  doftrine.     Even  admitting, 
that  inan  is  naturally  prone   to  exercife  his  phyfical  powers  j  that 
■  he  has  this  propenfity  in  common  with  the  lower  animals  j  that  he 
occafionally  manifefts  the  defire  of  revenge  and  conqueft,  not  un- 
like the  rapacious  tyger  or  the  viftorious  Uonj  and  that  he  cannot 
cafily  overconae    thefe  natural  inclinations,  as  long  as  his  inhuman 
feats  are  niore  admired  and  encouraged  than  the  dignified,  though 
lefs  amiring,  exertions  of  his  intelledt  j — -does  it  follow  from  thef<f 
primitive  difpofitions  of  favage  man,  that  perpetual  warAre  is  a  ne- 
csffary  evil  in  \}at  prejent  flate  of  fociety  ?     I  hope  for  the  honour 
of  humanity,  that  none   but  the  callous  financiers  of  deluded  na- 
tions, or  the  avaricious  contraftors  of  armies  and  navies,  with  their 
numerous  train  of  cohneftions,  will  be  hardy  enough   to  draw  fo 
falfe  a  conclufion. 

"Whe^  we  confider  thofe,  who  dirc^  the  affairsf  of  nations,  in  a. 
moral  as  well  as  legiflative  caj)acity,  it  is  rather  furprifing,  that 
thfe  important  plan  of  a  perpetual  peace  has  never  been  duly  weigh- 
ed :  while  many  fubje6ls  of  lefs  confequence,  and  comparatively 
trifling  jnatters,  daily  occupy  their  attention.  Nobody  will  deny, 
that  the  ideas  of  right  and  wrong,  of  juft  and  unjuft,  are  equally 
applicable  to  a  plurality  of  Hates,  as  to  different  individuals  o£ 
one  or  feveral  countries^  The  only  obllacle  to  the  juft  applica- 
tion  of  thefe  ideas  mull,  therefore,  lie  in  the  diverfity  of  opinions, 
arifing  among  thofe  corrw/*/^// fervants  of  the  ftate,  to  whom  the 
management  of  external  affairs  is  intruffed.  Why,  therefore,  do 
the  rulers  of  nations  not  agree  upon  a  general  federation  of  ftates  ? 
— ^Why  do  they  not,  like  every  other  reafonable  being,  fubmit  to 
arbitration,  by  chooCng  the  arbiters  from  the  bofom  of  difinterefted 
ftates  J  in  order  to  fettle  fuch  differences  as  their  own  minifters 
cannot  determine?     This  would  be  the  only  rational  and  proper 

method  ^ 


KANT'S  WORltS  123 

ttctlibd  }  a  methodj  which  is  daily  pradifed  In  private  life,  bf 
thofc  very  men,  whd  feiem  to  oppofe  its  introduftion  in  diplonaatic 
tranfaftions.  Nay,  if  the  arm  of  violence  and  rapacity  Were  per- 
mitted to  decide  the  quarrels  of  individuals,  all  civil  inftitutions 
and  focial  compafts  would  fodn  be  diffolved.  And  does  not  the 
fame  reafonitig  apply  to  every  government,  whether  mdnarchical; 
ariftrocratic,  or  democratic  ? — have  we  not  fufficient  teftimonies 
upon  hiftorical  record,  that  dilTolutioh  and  anjiihilation  have  hi- 
therto been  their  ultimate  fate  ? 

Induced  by  fuch  confiderations,  the  venerable  Kant,  after  ha- 
ving obferved  the  political  changes  of  Europe,  for  upwards  of  half 
a  century,  fteps  forward  with  a  plan  drawn  up  in  a  diplomatic 
form.  His  noble  defign  of  flopping  the  prodigal  efFulion  of  human 
blood,  and  his  aim  at  convincing  the  governors  of  nations,  that  the 
praftlcability  of  this  plan  merely  depends  upon  the  exertions  of 
their  moral  will,  are  equally  confpicuous.  The  great  modern 
improvements  in  Ethics  throughout  focicty,  particularly  in  the 
highei  ranks  j  the  view  of  the  innumerable  fufferings  and  exter- 
minations accompanying  the  prefent  ftate  of  warfare  in  Europe ; 
and  finally  the  convi£lion,  that  his  "  Proje£l"  is  truly  pra£licable 
and  morally  unexceptionable  j  thefe  were  fufficient  motives  to  roufe 
the  "  hoary  philofopher  of  the  North,"  and  to  animate  him  with 
new  vigour  for  this  grand  and  benevolent  attempt. 

The  author  exhibits  the  Preliminary  znd  J)ejm'tive  Articles  for 
a  perpetual  peace,  in   two   Sedlions,  which  he  accompanies  with   , 
proper  illuftrations.     The  preliminary  articles  are  as  follows  ; 
1.  **  No  treaty  of  peace  ftiall  be  confidered  as  valid,  that  has  been 

coitduded  with  a  fecret  referve  of  matters  for  a  future  war. 
a.  "  No  independent  ftate  {hall  ever  be  permitted  to  be  transferred 
to  the  dominion  of  another  ftate,  whether  by   inheritance,  ex- 
change, purchafe,  or  donation. 

3.  "  Standing  armies  (miles  perpetuus)  ftiall  in  time  be  entirely 
difcharged. 

4.  "  No  national  or  ftate  debts  ftiall  be  contrafted,  that  relate  to 
the  external  or  foreign  affjiirs  of  the  ftate. 

5.  "  No  ftate  (hall,  by  force  of  arms, interfere  with  either  the  con- 
ftitotion  or  government  of  other  ftates, 

Qji  6» 


124  ELEMENTARY"  VIEW  OF 

6.  '*  No  flate,  at  war  with  another,  ftiall  make  ufe  of  ftich  hofEi- 
litjes,  as  muft  deftroy  their  reciprocal  confidence  in  a  future 
peace  i  for  inllarxe,  the  employing  of  affafljns,  poifoners,  the 
violation  of  cartels,  the  inftigation  of  tteafonable  praftices,  re- 
bellion in  the  inimical  flate,  &c." 

The  conclufion  of  a  definiiive peace  prcfi.ippofes  It  as  a  poftulate  : 
*'  that  all  men,  who  are  able  to  produce  reciprocal  effefts  upon 
each  other,  muft  neceffarily  be  fubjedt  to  fome  civil  inftitutiohs.'* 
AH  civil  inftitutioits,  however,  as  far  as  regards  the />i?r/o/7j  fub- 
mltting  to  them',  may  be  reduced  to  three  clafTes:  i.)thofe  con- 
cerning the  right  of  the  citizen  in  the  ftate  ;  2.)  thofe  relative  to 
the  right  of  natioiis  ;  and  3.)  thofe  afcertalning.  the  rights  of  the 
citizen  of  the  world  (cofmopolite').  Conformably  to  this  intro- 
du<ftIon,  the  author  propofes  three  Dejirntive  Artiries. 

I.  The  civil  conjlitution  of  every  Jlate  ought  to  he  republican. — By  a 
republlcaa  conftitution  is  here  underftood  fuch  a  one,  as  is 
founded  upon  the  principles  of  liberty^  dependence^  and  equality. 
By  means  of  that  liberty^  acquired  by  the  conttitutional  law, 
all  the  members  of  a  Hate  muft  be  entitled  to  the  privilege  of 
obeying  no  other  external  or  bye-laws  than  thofe,  to  which 
they  have  given  their  confent.  By  virtue  of  their  legal  ^/^/)fW- 
tv/c^,  all  mem  be  IS  of  a  fociety  are  fubjeft  to  only  one  cdmmon 
legiflation.  And  by  their  legal  equality^  among  men  as  citizens 
of  the  ftate,  there  muft  fubfift  fuch  a  relation,  that  none  of  them 
can  lawfully  oblige  the  other,  without  fubjefting  himfelf  to  the 
law,  by  which  the  other  p^rty  may  reciprocally  compel  him  in 
u  fimilar  Inftance.  This,  therefore,  is  the  only  constitution, 
which  forms  the  bafis  of  every  other  in  civil  fociety  j  and  it  is 
SHb  the  only  one,  that  can  lead  to  a  perpetual  peace.  For,  in 
a  government,  \Vhere  the  confent  of  the  citizens  of  the  state  is 
required  for  declaring  war,  they  will  be  very  cautious  in  giving 
their  approbation  to  ihofe  horrid  meafiires.  In  confequence  of 
which  they  themfclvcs  muft  bear  all  the  calainities  of  a  bloody 
conteft. 

In  order  to  prevent  any  mifconftrudlon  of  tsrms,  Kant  dlf- 
tinguiflies  a  republican  from  a  democratic  conflltuiion,  by  dlf- 
crircinating  beuveen  the  Jhrmi  cf government  {imperii )j  and  thofe 

of 


KANPs  WORKS.  iz^ 

of  adminijlratlon  [reghnlnis)  j  the  former  of  which  are  deter- 
mined by  the  diftindion  oiperfoTn^  who  hold  thefupremc  power 
of  the  ftate,  but  the  latter,  by  the  mode  of  governing  the  people 
by  a  fupremc  head,  whoever  this  may  be.  The  forms  of  go- 
vernment, or  thofc  of  the  former  kind,  are,  autocrofy  or  tiie 
power  of  the  prince,  arijiocracy  or  the  power  of  the  nobles,  and 
democracy  or  the  power  of  the  people  :  thofe  of  the  latter  kind, 
namely  the  forms  of  adminiftration,  are  republicanifm  and  defpa- 
tifm.  The  former  of  thefe  again  confifts,  according  to  the  eflen- 
tial  charaflers  above  defcribed,  in  the  feparat'ion  of  the  execu- 
tive power  from  the  legiflative  j  the  latter,  namely  defpotilin, 
is  the  arbitrary  cxcctition  of  the  laws,  which  the  fove reign  him- 
felf  has  enabled  j  fo  that  his  private  will  becomes  the  public 
law  of  the  nation. — Concerning  democracy  then,  Kant  affirms, 
that  it  necejjarily  leads  to  defjiotifth  j  becaufe  it  eftabliflies  a 
legiflative  and  executive  power,  by  which  all  have  a  (hare  ia 
forming  refolutions  relative  to  one^  and  even  agalnft  this  one, 
who  confequently  would  not  agree  with  them,  fo  that  all  are  faid 
to  partake  of  the  Iqgiflation,  when  in  faft  they  do  not  fo ;  which 
is  in  contradiftion  to  the  general  will  itfelf  and  to  liberty. 
II.  *Ihe  rights  of  nations  ought  to  bt  founded  upon  a  federation  of  iu' 
dependent  /fates. — The  author's  ideas  in  this  article  are  expreffed 
with  equal  boldnefs,  energy,  and  truth.  The  refult  of  them  is 
this  :  In  the  relative  condition  of  ftates  to  one  another,  there 
can  be  rationally  no  other  method  of  extricating  themfelves 
from  the  lawlefs  condition,  that  engenders  continual  wars,  than 
to  imitate  individual  man  in  the  rcfignation  of  his  wild  (uncon- 
ftiained)  liberty  j  to  accomodate  themfelves  to  public  com- 
pulfory  lavvs  j  ind  thus  to  form  a  Jate  of  n5//o«j-,  gradually  in- 
creafing,  and  at  length  comprehending  all  the  nations  of  the 
earth.  Since,  however,  according  to  their  notions  of  the  right 
of  nations,  they  are  averfe  to  fubmit  like  individuals  to  the  laws 
of  corapulfion  j  and  fince  they  rejeft  in  hypothesi  what  is  juft 
in  thesif  let  them  at  leafl  adopt  the  negative  fubftitute  of  a  fe- 
deration (congrefs)  for  the  prevention  of  war,  inflcad  of  the 
pofuvjt  cftablifhmcnt  of  an  univsrfal  republic.  Such  a  congrefs 
may   at  Icaftfavcus  from  total   ryin,  by  checking  that  hof- 

tile 


i%6  ELEIVIENTARY  VIEW  OF 

tile  difpofition  of  man,  "which  (huns  the  operation  of  the  law  ;  it 
may  gradually  fpread  its  beneficent  influence  to  diftant  nations ; 
though  it  will  neverthelefs  be  in  conftant  danger  of  being  inter- 
rupted, by  the  capricious  oppofition  of  a  lawlefs  monarch. 

III.  The  cofmopolitical  right  Jhall  be  limited  to  conditions  ofuniverfal 
bofpitality. — Tie  cofrtiopblitical  right  is  that  of  a  ftranger,  by 
•which  he  is  intitled  tO  a  friendly  reception  at  his  arrival  upon 
foreign  ground.  It  is  not  ftriAly  the  light  of  hofpitality,  but 
that  of  vifiting  one  another,  which  belongs  to  all  men,  in  offer- 
ing their  company,  by  virtue  of  their  common  inhabitation 
of  the  furface  of  the  earth.  The  iiihofpitality  of  fea-coafts,  for 
inftance  that  of  .Barbary,  and  the  inhofpitable  condu6l  of  cul- 
tivated and  chiefly  of  comniercial  nations  of  our  tjuartcr  of  the 
globej  who  change  their  vijits  into  conque/Is,  is  donfcquently 
againft  the  law  of  nature.  As,  liowever,  the  means  of  commu- 
nication among  the  nations  of  the  eatth  are  fo  much  improved, 
that  the  violation  of  a  right  on  one  fpot  of  the  globe  is  now  felt 
in  all  countries  j  it  hence  follows,  that  the  idea  of  a  cofmopoli- 
tical  law  is  not  a  whimfical  or  extravagant  reprefentation  of  a 
right,  but  9  negeffary  fupplement  to  a  code,  that  remains  to  be 
written,  and  that  relates  to  the  rights  of  ftates  and  nations,  as 
■well  as  to  the  rights  of  man  in  general.  Under  this  condition 
only,  we  may  flatter  ourfelves  witli  the  hopes  of  a  continual, 
though  gradual,  approximation  to  a  perpetual  peace.     , 

In  the  further  illuftrations  annexed  to  thefe  articles,  the 
author  maintains,  that  both  morals  and  politics,  fo  far  from 
being  in  oppofition  to  this  plan,  rather  tend  to  confirm  and  to 
render  it  univerfal  j  "  for,  '  fays  he,'  the  guarantee  of  this 
compa£l  is  the  grand  and  ingenious  artift,  nature  herfelf,  who  by 
her  mechanical  courfe  evidently  manifefts  her  purpofed  aiin  of 
reftoring  harmony  among  men,  even  againft  their  will,  and  in 
the  very  bofom  of  their  contentions.  The  provifional  difpofi- 
tions  made  by  nature  for  this  purpofe,fire  the  following:  i)  that 
(he  has  provided  for  the  fubfiftcnce  of  man  in  all  climates  j 
^)  that  (he  has  difpcrfed  them,  through  wars,  in  every  dircdlion, 
even  to  the  moft  inhofpitable  countries,  in  order  to  people 
thcai )  and  3)  that  (lie  has  thus  compelled  thero  to  enter  into  re- 

'  I  ciprocSil 


KANT^s  WORKS.  t%j 

^iprocal  engagements,  which  are  more  <yt  lefs  cftablifhcd  Ijy 
law." 

The  many  valuable  hints  and  philofophical  reflcftions,  con- 
tained in  this  little  work,  it  is  impoflible  to  abridgie.  And  *S> 
we  poffefs  an  English  tranflation  of  It,  I  muft  refer  the  curiousj 
reader  to  the  book  itfelf  j  at  the  fame  time  affuring  him,  that 
he  will  find  the  qrts  of  courts  and  the  juggles  of  ftatefemen  cx- 
pofcd,  in  a  manner  altogether  original. 


XXIX.  (ii-)  Ntetaphyjijche  Atifangsgrunde  der  Rechtslehfe. 
Metaphjfical  Eleme:its  of  Jurifprudence.  8vo.  Konigsherg^ 
1797.  xii  pp.  Preface  ;  Lll.  pp.  Introduction  j  and  "i-^S 
pp.  Text. 

This  work  affords  another  proof  of  the  very  cxtenfive  applica- 
tion, of  which  the  Kantian  philofophy  is  fufceptible.  Having 
In  his  former  publications  eftabliflied,  on  a  critical  bafis  (that  of  «» 
pure  and  practical  Reafon),  the  principles  of  Phyfics,  of  Tafte,  of 
Morality,  and  of  rational  Religion,  the  author  proceeds  in  the 
prefent,  to  deduce  from  the  fame  fource  the  elements  of  Jurifpru- 
dence J  and  not  only  lays  down  the  private  rights  of  individuals^ 
but  unfolds  alfo  the  principles,  which  ought  to  determine  the  in- 
ternal arrangements  of  Civil  Society,  and  regulate  the  intercourfe 
of  nations. 

The  mode.  In  which  Prof.  Kant  treats  tbe  fubjeft,  will -ap- 
pear from  the  following  obfervation  :  "  A  Syftem  of  Jurifprudence, 
the  firft  part  of  the  Science  of  Morals,  derived  from  Reafon,  and 
which  might  be  termed  the  Metaphyfics  of  Law,  Is  ftill  a  defide- 
ratum  in  philofophy.  But  as  the  idea  of  law,  though  pure,  has  a 
relation  to  praftice  ;  i.  e.  is  applicable  to  the  cafes  occurring  in  ex- 
perience, a  metaphyfical  fyftem  of  it,  in  Its  divifion,  muft  alfo  have 
a  reference  to  the  empirical  variety  of  thofe  cafei,  in  order  to 
make  the  divifion  complete,  which  is  an  iodifpenfable  requifite  in 
the  formation  of  a  Syftem  of  Reafon.  Completenefs  of  divifion, 
however,  in  what  is  empirical,  is  impoflible  •,  and  where  it  is  at- 
tempted, or  at  leafl  an  approximation  to  It,  fuch  ideas  cannot  be 
confidercd  as  integral  parts  in  a  Syftem,  but  merely  as  exasiples. 

The. 


xa^  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

The  only  proper  appellation,  therefore,  for  the  firfl  part  of  the 
Metaphyfics'of  Morals,  Is  '  Mctaphyfical  Elements  of Juriffrudenee  -j 
jbecaufc,  with  refpecl  to  the  application    to  thefe  cafes,  there  can 
only  be  an  approxinjation  to  a  Syftcm,  not  a  Syftem  itfclf." 

Having,  in  a  general  introduftion  developed  the  principles  of 
the  Moral  Science,  and  having  fhown  the  nyceflity  of  a  Metaphy- 
seal Syftem  of  Morals,  i.-e.  of  ^  praftlcal  phllofophy  derived  from 
ideas  a  priori  merely,  and  which  has  not  nature,  but  the  freedom 
cf  the  human  will,  for  its  objeft  j  the  author  makes  the  following 
dlftin^ion  between  Juftice  and  the  other  virtues,  between  Ethics 
aad  Jurifprudence. — "  All  leglflation,  ho/.ever  it  may  agree  with 
refpeS^to  the  afllons,  being  in  every  cnfe  external,  may  yet  be  dlf- 
tinguifli6d  with  regard  to  the  motives.  That  legiflation,  which 
conftitutes  an  aflion  a  duty,  and  at  the  fame  time  makes  this  duty 
the  motive,  is  Ethical.  But  th?t,  which  does  not  include  in  the 
rule  the  Idea  9f  duty,  which  on  the  contrary  admits  another  mo- 
tive than  this  idea,  is  Juridical.  With  refpefl  to  the  latter,  it  is 
eafy  to  perceive,  that  this  motive,  different  from  the  idea  of  duty, 
muft  be  derived. from  the  pathological  grounds,  by  which  the  will 
is  determined,  viz.  inclination  and  dlflnclination,  and  among  thefe 
from  thofe  of  the  latter  kind  ;  becaufe  it  is  a  legiflation  which  is 
compulfory,  and  doies  not  Influence  the  condu6l  by  the  allurements 
of  reward. — The  mere  conformity  of  an  aSion  to  the  rule,  with- 
out regard  to  the  motive,  is  called  Its  legality  \  but  that,  in  whlcji 
the  idea  of  duty,  arlfing  from  the  rule,  Is  at  the  fame  time  the  mo-' 
live  of  the  aftion,  is  its  morality.  The  duties,  according  to  a  ju- 
ridical leglflatlof!,  can  only  be  external,  becaufe  this  legiflation 
does  not  re<juire,  that  the  idea  of  duty,  which  is  internal,  fliould^e 
in  Itfelf  the  principle,  by  which  the  will  of  the  agent  Is  deter- 
mined J  and  as  a  proper  motive  for  the  rule  Is  neverthelefs  necef- 
fary,  it  can  only  be  externally  conne(Sled  with  that  rule.  Ethical 
legiflation,  on  the  other  hand,  makes  our  internal  afllons  alfo  du- 
ties, not  as  It  were  excluding  the  external,  but  propeeding  on 
what  is  duty  in  general.  And  as  Ethical  legiflation  includes  in  its 
rule  the  internal  motive  of  aftlon,  the  idea  of  duty,  which  deter- 
mination can  by  no  means  be  introduced  into  an  external  legifla- 
tion J  fo  this  Ethical  legiflation  cannot  be  external,  not  even  that 

of 


KANT'S  WORK.  129 

of  a  Divine  wlUj  although  indeed  it  aflumes  for  motives,  aj- ^/?///g- 
duties,  thofe  duties  which  depend  upon  another,  namely  an  exter- 
nal leglflatioB.  It  is  not  a  duty  of  virtue  to  keep  one^s  promlfe, 
but  an  obligation  of  juftice,  of  Uw,  to  the  performance  of  which 
one  may  be  compelled.  Yet  to  do  this,  where  no  compulfion  is 
to  be  apprehended,  is  a  virtuous  aftion,  a  proof  of  virtue,  .  Jurif- 
prudence  and  Ethics  then  arc  diftinguifhed,  not  fo  much  by  the 
different  duties  they  enjoin,  as  by  the  diifercnce  of  the  legiflation, 
which  connefis  with  the  rule  the  on£  or  thp  other  motive." 

Next   follows   a  particular  *  InlroduBion  to    "jurifprudence^  In 
jvhich  the  following  fubjedls  are  difcuflfed. 

Sect.  I.  \  A.  Of  Jurifprudence.  B.  ,0f  jfuJice.^The  idea  of 
■what  is  juft  or  right,  fo  far  as  it  refers  to  a  correfponding  obligation, 
includes  firft,  the  merely  external  and  praftical  relation  of  one  pcr- 
fon  to  another,  in  fo  far  as  their  a<Elions,  as  fafts,  can  have  medi- 
ately or  immediately  an  Influence  on  each  other.  But  fecondly, 
it  does  not  imply  the  relation  of  the  will  of  one  individual  to  the 
vjt/h  or  mere  nvayit  of  another,  as  in  the  a(E):Ions  of  charity  or  in- 
fenfibility,  but  merely  to  the  wt//  of  that  other.  Thirdly,  In  this 
reciprocal  relation  of  wills,  the  matter  of  the  will,  I.  e.  the  end, 
which  every  body  has  in  view  with  the  objeft,  which  he  wills,  does 
not  come  under  confideratioa.  For  inftance,  the  queftion  Is  not, 
whether  one  gains  or  lofes  by  the  commodities,  which  he  purchafe4 
from  me  for  the  exerclfe  of  his  trade,  but  merely  according  to  the 
form  In  the  relation  of  each  will,  fo  far  only  as  it  Is  coafidered  as 
free,  whether  the  aAion  oi  the  one  be  confiftent  with  the  freedom 
of  the  other,  according  to  a  general  law. — C.  General  principles 
ofjujlice. — Every  a£lion  Is  juft  or  right,  according  to  the  maxim 
of  which  the  freedom  of  will  of  one  individual  is  compatible  with 
the  freedom  of  another,  agreeably  to  a  general  law.  D.  Jujlice  or 
law,  neceflfarily  prefuppofes  compulfion  or  force.— E.  iV/'/H  juftlce 
or  law,  may  alio  be  reprefented  as  the  pofliblllty  of  a  reciprocally 
exerted  force,  confiftent  with  the  freedom  of  every  man,  and  with 
general  rules  or  laws. 

Sect.  II.   i.  Of  Equity.  l.Of  the  lawqf  necejjity. 
Sect.  III.  Division  of  Jurisprudence. — h.  General  divijion  of  the 
duties  of  juflice.'^t.  General  divifton  of  laivs  and  rights,   i.)  Law,  as 

k  a 


I3«  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

a  fyftematic  do£liine  is  divided  into  the  Law  of  Nature,  whicli  de^ 
pcnds  entirely  on  principles  a  priori^  and  pofitive  or  ftatutary  law, 
wliich  proceeds  from  the  will  of  a  legiflator.  2.)  Of  rights,  as 
the  moral  power  of  laying  others  under  an  obligation,  the  chief 
divifion  is  into  the  original  and  acquired'.,  the  former  of  which  eve- 
ry man  inherits  by  nature,  independent  of  any  legal  aft  j  the  lat- 
ter cannot  be  attained  without  fuch  an  aft. — The  only  original 
right,  that  is  born  with  man,  is  freedom  or  independence  on  any 
other  arbitrary  will,,  fo  far  as  it  is  confiftent  with  the  liberty  of 
every  individual,  according  to  a  general  law. 

Further  Contents  of  the  wori. 

Part  L  Ov  the  private  right  of  property  in  general. 
Chap.  I.  Of  the  mode  of pojfejjing  fomething  external  as  property, 
\  1.  My  pro^ierty  is  that,  with  which  I  am  fo  connefted,  that 
the  ufe,  which  another  might  make  of  it  agaiiift  ray  will,  would 
injure  me.  The  fubjeftive  condition  of  the  pofllbility  of  ufe,  in 
general,  is  pojfejjion.  §.  2, — 3.  Juridical  populate  of  praftical 
reafon.  It  is  pofllble  to  have  every  external  objeft  of  my  will  as 
my  property  j  i.  e.  the  maxim  is  contrary  to  juftlce,  according  to 
vphich,  if  it  were  a  law,  an  external  objeft  of  the  will  behoved  to 
be  in  itfelf  without  an  owner  (res  nullius).  §  4.  Expofition  of 
ihe  idea  of  external  property.  Of  the  external  objefts  of  my  will 
there  can  be  only  three  :  i.)  a  corporeal  thing  without  me  ;  2.) 
the  will  of  another  to  a  determined  aft  (praeftatio)  j  3.  the  fitua- 
tion  of  another  in  relation  to  me,  according  to  the  Categories  of 
Subftance,  Caufality,  and  Community  between  me  and  external 
objefts,  agreeable  to  the  laws  of  freedom.  §  5.  Definition  of  thq 
idea  of  external  property.  External  property  is  that  without  me, 
to  hinder  me  from  ufing  which,  as  I  chufe,  would  be  unjuft,  or  an 
injury.  \  6.  Deduftion  of  the  idea  of  the  mere  legal  or  civil 
poffeflion  of  an  external  objeft.  \  7,  Application  of  the  principle 
of  the  pofllbility  of  external  property  to  the  objefts  of  experience. 
^  8.  To  have  fomething  external  as  property,  is  only  poflible  in  a 
juridical  Hate,  under  a  public  legiilative  power,  i.  e.  in  civil  fo- 
ciety.  §  9.  In  the  ftate  of  nature,  nothing  but  a  mtxtly  provifional^ 
thovs^h  real  exter.r.alj  property  can  take  place. 

Chap. 


feANT's    WORKS.  43* 

dHAP.  II.  Of  the  mode  of  acquiring  external  property  * 
\  10.  General  principles  of  external  acquifition. — I  afcquJre 
fomething  originally,  when  I  caufe  that  to  become  mine,  which 
formerly  was  the  property  of  no  other  perfon. — Divifion  of  the 
acquifition  of  external  property  :  i.)  according  to  the  matter  (the 
tobjefl)  I  acquire  either  a  corporeal  thing  (fubftance),  or  the  per- 
formance of  dndther  perfon  (caufality),  or  this  other  perfon,  i.  e. 
bis  or  her  (late,  fo  far  as  I  obtain  a  right  to  rule  over  that  perfon  j 
2.)  according  tcf  the  forth  or  modfe  of  acquifition,  I  have  either  a 
i'eal  right,  or  zperfonal  right,  or  both  real  and  perfonal  right  to  the 
poffefllon,  hot  the  ufe,  of  another  perfon  br  things 

Se£l.  1.  Of  real  rights.  §  II.  A  real  right  is  the  ri^ht  to  the 
ptivate  life  of  a  thing.  In  the  cOmmoti  porfeflion  of  which  (whether 
original  or  acquired)  I  am  with  all  others.  §  12.  The  firft  acqui- 
fition of  a  thing  can  be  no  other  than  that  of  the  foil.  §  13.  Every 
part  of  the  foil  may  be  originally  acquired,  and  the  ground  of  thd 
pofllbility  of  this  acquifition  is,  that  the  foil  in  general  was  orI« 
ginally  common.  $  14.  The  legal  a£l  of  this  acquifition  is  eccu- 
pancy.  §  15.  It  is  in  civil  fociety  alone,  that  any  peremptory  ac- 
quifition can  be  made  :  in  a  ftate  of  nature  it  can  only  be  provi- 
fional.  §  16.  Explanation  of  the  idea  of  an  original  acquifition  of 
the  foil.     §  17.  Dcduftion  of  this  idcPi 

Secf.  II.  Of  perfonal  rightf.  §  18.  A  perfonal  right  is  the  pof- 
felTion  of  the  will  of  another,  as  the  power  of  determining  that  will 
through  mine  to  a  certain  a6lion,  according  to  the  laws  offreedom. 
— Of  the  transference  of  will  by  contraft.  §  19.  Of  the  confti- 
tuents  of  a  contract.  §  20.  Of  the  caufality  of  the  will  of  another^ 
tvhicb  is  acquired.  §  21.  In  a  contraft,  a  thing  is  not  acquired  by 
the  acceptance  of  the  promife,  but  by  the  delivery  of  what  has 
been  promifed. 

SeB.Wl.  Of  real— 'perfonal  right.  §  22.This  right  is  that  of  the 
poffeflion  of  an  external  objeft  as  a  things  and  of  the  ufe  of  it  as  « 
perfon.  §  23,  Of  the  right  of  the  Family-Society.  §  24, — 27. 
Title  firfl:  of  the  right  of  marriage.  §28 — 29.  li\\\t  fecond  \  of 
the  rights  of  parentage.  §  30.  Title  third',  of  the  rights  of  a 
Maflcr  of  a  Family.  §31,  32.  Dogmatical  divifion  of  all  the  rightt 

R  2  aci^^uirabid 


132  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

acquirable  by   contra£?s.  I.  Of  Money.  II.  Of  literary  property. 
Se£i.  IV.  Of  ibe  ideal  acquifition  of  an  external  ohjeB  of  the  wilL 
I.  §  ^^.  Of  prefcription,  or   the  mode  of  acquiring  property  by 
length  of  poffeflion.  II.  §  34.  Of  acquifition  by  Inheritance.  III. 
§  SSt^6^  OfpoftbUmous  reputation. 

Chap,  III.  0/*  the  fubjeSlively  conditioned  acquifition^  by  the  fentence 

of  a  Public  Court  of  Juflice. 

A.  §  37.  Of  the  eontraft  of  Donafion.  B.  §  38.  Of  the  con- 
traft  of  Loan  (commodatum).  C.  §  39.  Of  the  re-acquifition  or 
reclainaing  of  property  loH  ("vindlcatio).  D.  S  40.  Of  the  acqui- 
fition of  fecurity  by  oath  (cautio  juratotia).  §  41,  42^.  Tranfition 
from  property  in  a  ftate  of  nature,  to  that  in  a  juridical  date,  or 
civil  fociety  in  general. 

Part  II.  Of  Public  Law. 

.Se£i.  I.  §  43,  44.  Of  the  Conflitutional  Law  of  a  State.  §  45 — 47. 
Of  a  State  as  a  coUedtlon  of  men. — Of  the  powers  in  a  State,  Le- 
giflative,  iExecutive,  and  Judicial.  "  The  only  rational  plan  of 
government  is  that,  in  which  the  combined  will  of  the  people  de- 
termines the  law.''  §  48,  49.  Of  co-ordinate  and  fubordlnatc 
powers. — General  Remarks. — A.  Of  the  fupreme  power  j  of  the 
focial  compaft,  and  the  duty  of  obedience.  Of  redrefs  of  grie- 
vances. Offedition  and  rebellion. — According  to  the  principles 
eftablilhed  by  Kant,  *'  A  change  in  the  Conftitution  of  a  State, 
"  which  its  faults  may  fometimes  render  neceffary,  can  only"  in 
*'  juflice  be  accomplifhed  by  the  Sovereign,  by  means  oireform-^ 
"  not  by  the  people,  by  means  of  a  revolution  j  and  if  it  take  place, 
*'  it  can  only  afiFeft  the  executive,  not  the  legiflative  power.  At 
**  the  fame  time,  if  a  revolution  has  once  been  brought  about,  and 
**  a  new  conftitution  eftablifhed,  the  inju^ice  of  this-  revolution  in 
*'  its  beginning  and  accomplifhraent,  does  not  free  the  fubjefts 
***"from  the  obligation  to  accommodate  themfelves,  as  good  citf- 
**  zensj.to  the  new  order  of  things."  B.  Of  the  rights  of  the  fo- 
vereign  power  to  the  territory  of  the  State.  Of  the  rights  of 
taxation.  Of  Fin!  nee  and  Police.  C.  0/ the  maintenance  of  the 
poor  J  of  Foundling  Hofpitals  j  of  a  religious  eftablifhment.  D.  Of 

tire 


KANT^s  WOl^KS  13  j 

the  diftnbiition  of  offices  j  of  rank  in  tKe  State  ;  of  Nobility.  E. 
Of  criminal  law,  and  a  penal  code  j  of  the  right  of  puniftiing  and 
pardosing.  §  50.  Of  the  relation  of  a  citizen  to  his  native  and 
other  countries,  in  point  of  right  and 'obligation.  §51.  Of  the 
different  forms  of  government.  §  52.  Of  the  attainment  of  that 
rational  form,  which  the  fpirit  of  an  original  compaft  requires, 
tvhich  makes  JreeJom  alone  ihe  principle,  i.  e.  the  bafis,  and  con- 
dition of  all  yorc^. — Of  the  reprefentativc  Syftem. 

Se^.  II.  Of  the  law  of  Nations^  or  tnternational  law.  §  55,  54, 
Nations,  in  their  external  relation  to  each  other,  are  in  a  ftate  of 
nature,  not  unlike  lawlefs  favages,  among  whom  the  right  of  the 
ftrongeft  is  eftabliihed  j  confequently,  a  confederacy  of  Hates  be- 
comes neceffary,  in  order  to  prote£l  one  another  againft  external  at- 
tacks, conformably  to  the  idea  of  an  otiginal  focial  compafl. 
§  $^ — 58.  Of  the  right  of  making  war,  both  with  regard  jto  the 
fubjeds  of  a  State,  and  foreign  nations.  §  59,  60.  Of  the  right  of 
peace.  §  61.  Of  the  injurtice  of  a  ftatc  of  warfare.  "  There  fhall 
be  no  war,  is  the  irrefiftible  veto  of  morally-pra£lIcal  Reafon,"— 
Of  the  mode  of  bringing  nations,  like  individuals,  &om  a  ilate  of 
nature  to  a  Juridical  ilate. — Of  the  eftablifliment  and  maintenance 
of  a  perpetual  peace,  by  means  of  a  permanent  Congrefs  of  States, 

Sec7.  III.  Cf  Cofmopolit'tcal  law,  or  the  rights  of  the  citizen  of  the 
world.  §  (ji.  Of  the  right  of  mutual  intcrcoaife  and  commerce, 
as  belonging  to  all  mankind. 

Concluftoii* 

This  uftjion  of  the  whole  human  race,  under  certain  Umverfal 
laws,  it  may  be  faid,  is  not  the  partial,  but  the  total  and  complete 
attainment  of  the  grand  aim,  the  final  purpofe  of  Jurifprudence 
within  the  boundaries  of  mere  Reafon.  For,  that  the  prototype  of 
a  juridical  federation  of  men,  according  to  public  laws  in  general, 
muft  be  derived  from  Reafon  fl/r/or»,  is  now  obvious ;  fince  all  the 
j^xamples,  taken  from  experience,  can  indeed  ferve  the  purpofe  of 
tUuflrating,  but  not  of  eftablilhing,  the  neceflity  of  a  metaphyfical 
decifion  of  this  important  queftion.  Thofe  very  men,  who  fmile 
at  the  novelty  of  this  inrjuiry,  incautioufly  betray  therafelvcs,  when 

they 


134  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 

they  admit,  and  even  make  ufe  of  the  common-place  affeition^ 
*'  that  that  is  the  beft  conftitution,  in  which  the  laws  govern,  not 
tneni"  And  what,  '  fays  the  author,'  can  be  more  fublimc  thaa 
this  idea,  which  is  evidently  applicable  to  praftlce,  and  capable  or 
being  realized  in  experience,  and  which  alone — provided  it  is  not 
attempted  to  be  brought  about  by  means  of  revolutions,  or  the 
forcible  overthrow  of  all  erroneous  cftablifhraents  (for  that  would 
be  the  annihilation  of  all  law  and  juftice),  but  by  gradual  reform, 
according  to  fixed  principles — leads  by  continual  approximation 
to  the  fupreme  political  good,  a  perpetual  peace. 


XXX.  (i2.)  Metaphyjifche  Anfangsgrunde  der  Tugendlehre, 
Metaphjfical  Elements  of  Ethics .  8vo.  Koenigsberg.   1797' 

With  this  publication  F'rof.  Kant  will  probably  conclude  \ui 
fyftematic  labours  in  the  field  of  the  Critical  Philofophy.  Though, 
on  account  of  its  very  recent  appearance,  I  have  not  yet  obtained 
a  copy  of  this  work,  among  the;  books  lately  received  from  Ger- 
many J  I  can  in  fome  degree  fatisfy  the  curiofity  {of  the  reader,  by 
flating  the  objeft  of  it,  as.  abftrafted  from  the  general  Introduc- 
tion, which  is  premifed  to  the  preceding  "  Elements  of  Jurif- 
prudence-" 

*  Moral  laws  can  only  be  fo  far  valid  as  rules,  if  they  can  be 
eftabliftied  a  priori^  fo  that  the  neceffity  of  them  becomes  evident. 
For  the  conceptions  and  judgments,  relative  to  our  aftions  and  o* 
mifiions,  have  no  moral  application  at  all,  if  they  contain  nothing 
further  than  what  is  learned  from  experience.  And  if  we  fhould 
even  be  mifled  to  affume  any  data,  from  the  latter  fource,  as  moral 
principles,  we  cannot  avoid  falling  Into  the  groffert  and  moft  de- 
ftru£llve  errors. 

'  If  the  doftrine  of  morals  had  no  other  aim  than  that  of  per- 
fonal  happinefs,  it  would  be  abfurd  to  fearch  for  principles  apriori^ 
in  order  to  eftablifti  fuch  a  doftrine.  For,  however  plaufible  it 
may  appear,  that  Reafon  can  perceive  previous  to  experience,  by 
what  means  man  may  arrive  at  the  permanent  enjoyment  of  the 
true  pleafures  of  life,  yet  every  propofition  of  this  kind,  a  priori^ 
j«  either  tautological,  or  it  refts  upon  groundlefshypothcfes.  Ex- 
pedience! 


KANT'S  WORKS.  135 

penence  alone  can  Inform  us  of  what  is  attended  with  pleafure. 
The  natural  Inftinft  for  nourifliment,  the  fexual  Impulfe,  reft,  mo- 
tion, and](afler  developing  the  difpofitions  of  nature)  the  ftruggles 
for  honour,  the  enlargement  of  our  knowledge,  and  the  like,  caa 
iptimate  to  every  individual  in  particular,  how  he  may  ejlimate 
his  pleafures,  and  at  the  fame  time  inform  him  of-  the  means,  by 
which  he  is  to  attain  \}i\txa..  All  plaufible  reafoning  a  priori  iSy 
here,  in  reality  nothing  elfe  but  experience,  which,  by  indu6lion, 
has  received  a  general  charader.  This  generality,  far  from  being 
univerfal,  is  fo  very  limited,  that  an  indefinite  number  of  excep- 
tions muft  be  granted  to  every  individual,  in  order  to  adopt  that 
choice  in  the  mode  of  life,  to  his  particular  inclination,  and  to  his 
fufceptibility  of  pleafures  j — fo  that,  in  the  end,  he  can  profit  and 
^row  wifer  only  from  his  own  detriment,  or  that  of  others. 

*  The  doflrines  of  morality,  however,  have  a  very  different 
prigin.  They  are  imperative  to  every  individual,  without  regard- 
ing his  inclinations  j  for  this  rcafon  merely,  becaufe  he  is  a  free 
fubjeft,  and  is  capable  of  reafoning  praftically.  Inftruftion, 
in  the  laws  of  morality,  is  not  derived  from  reflc61ion  upon 
ourfelves  and  our  animal  nature,  nor  from  the  obfervation  of  the 
courfe  of  the  world,  namely  from  events  and  a£lions  j  but  Reafon 
itfelf  commands  us,  how  to  a£l,  though  we  ftiould  find  no  i^nalogy 
or  example  in  experience,  corrcfponding  wilh  the  prefent  cafe. 
Reafon,  further,  in  this  injundlion,  does  not  attend  to  the  ad- 
vantage or  difadvantage,  which  may  accompany  our  a£lions  j  for 
experience  alone  could  give  us  any  information  upon  this  point. 
"We  are  iqdeed  entitled  to  purfue  our  advantage  in  every  poflibl^ 
manner,  provided  that  we  aft  confiftently  with  both  Reafon  an4 
prudence  j  for  the  former  enjoins,  while  the  latter  only  advifes 
|hat,  upon  the  whole,  we  fhall  derive  greater  advantages,  if  wc 
follow,  than  if  we  tranfgrefs  the  diftates  of  Reafon.* 


J36  ELEMENTARY  VIEW  OF 


'X be  following  EJfays,  written  by  Prof,  Kant,  were 
puhlifhed  in  different  periodical  works  of  Germany^ 
in  the  chronological  order  here  fated. 


I.  Von  den  verfchiedenen  Ra^en  der  Menfchen>  Of  the  dif- 
ferent races  of  man.  Publilhed  in  Engel's  Philofopher  of  the 
world:  firft  Edit.  8yo.  Leipzig,  I777>  from p»^ 25  to  p.  164. 


3.  Briefwechfel  zwifchen  Kant  und  dem  i}erJlorhenen  Lam-* 
hert.  Correfpondence  between  Kant  and  the  late  Lambert., — 
Publlfhed  in  Bernouilli*s  Literary  Correfpondence  hetvoeen 
learned  Germans.     Vol^L  from  p.  333  to  368. — 1781. 


3.  Idee  %u  einer  allgemeinen  Gefchichte  in  welthurgerlicher 
Ahficht. — ^Plan  of  a  general  hiftorj  in  a  cofmopolitical  view. 
Publiflied  in  the  Berlin  Monthly  Magazine ^  for  November, 
1784' 


4.  Beantwortung  der  Frage  :  ivas  ifl  Aufkldrung  f — Reply 
to  the  queflion,  what  is  underflood  by  illumination  (of  mind), 
Ihid.  for  December,  1784, 


5.  Ueher  die  Vuliane  im  Monde. ^^On  the  Volcanos  in  the 
moon.  Ihid.  for  March,  178    5,  , 


6.  Von  der  Unrechtm'dJJigkeit  des  Biichernachdrucks . — On  the 
injuftice  of  printing  fpurious  editions  of  books.— -/^z^/.  for 
May,  1785. 


KANTs  WORICS  137 


7.  Bejiimmung  des  Begriffs  einer  Menfchenrace. — Definition 
of  the  idea  connefted  with  the  cxpreffion  "  a  race  Qf  men."— 
Ibid,  for  November,  1785- 


8.  MuthmafsJicher  Anfang  der  Menfchengefchichte — On 
the  probable  Origin  of  Human  Hiftory.  Ihid.  for  January, 
1786. 

This  Effay  the  author  himfelf  confiders  as  the  moft  fuccefs- 
ful  of  his  populVt  produftions,  or  minor  works.  And  though  I 
have  not  been  able  to  procure  a  copy  of  that  number,  in  which 
it  appeared  in  the  Berlin  Monthly  Magazine,  without  ordering  the 
whole  fet  for  tbeyear  1786,  I  can  give  the  following  charafler  of 
this  treatife,  upon  the  authority  of  Prof.  Will  of  Alidorf^  as  ex- 
trafted  from  his  "  LeBur.es  on  the  Kantian  Philofophy^  8vo.  200 
pages  J   1788,"  in  which  he  fays,  p..  32  :— *   This  mafterly  perfor- 

*  mance  contains  a  philofophical  explanation,  which  certainly. is  bet- 

*  ter  founded  than  upon  niere  conjefture  (as  the  title  modeftly  cx- 

*  preffes).  Though  it  apparently  deviates  from  the  Mofaic  nar- 
^  rative,  it  neverthelefs  forms  an  ufeful  addition  to  the  Bible,  an(i 
^  affords  illuftrations  of  its  hiilorical  truth/ 


9.  Was  heifst  :  Jich  im  Denien  orkntiren  ? — What  ifi  under- 
ftood  by  the  expreffion,  "  to  familiarize  onefelf  in  thinking  j" 

j.  e.  to  trace  the  ideas  of  our  own  mind  to  their  fource. Ibid, 

for  Oftober,  1786. 


10.  Ahhandlung  van  dem  Gebrauche  teleologifcher  I^rincipien 
in  der  Philofophie. — A  Treatife  concerning  the  application  of 
teleological  principles  in  philofophy. — Publifhed  in  the  Ger- 
man Mercury f  for  January  and  February,  1788. 


XI. 


?38 


1 1 .  Ueher  das  Mifslingen  aller  philofophifchen  Verfuche  in  der 
Theodicee. --^On  the  failure  of  all  philofophical  attempts  made 

in  the    Theodicea  (by  Leibnit^).— .J?^/-//»  Monthly  Magazine 
for  September,  1 791. 


1 2 .  Ueher  das  radikah  B'dfe  in  der  menfchlichen  Natur-^On 
the  radical  evil  in  human  nature — Ibid,  for  April,  i792. 


13.  Ueher  den  Qemein/pruch :  Das  mag  in  dif  Theorie  rich^ 
tig  fey  n,  taugt  aher  nicht  Jur  die  Praxis. '^-On  the  common- 
place aflertion,  "  that  may  be  true  in  theory,  but  is  not  ap- 
plicable to  praftice."  Ihid.  for  September,  1793. 


14.  Etwas  iiher  den  Einflufs  des  Mondes  auf  die  Witterung, 
Some  Remarks  relative  to  the  influence  of  the  Moon  on  the. 
Weather.  Ibid,   for  May  1794. 


GLOSSARY 


»39 

GLOSSARY. 


Tbofe  termsy  which  explain  them/elves  from  the  context  of 
the  Elements ^  are  here  omitted. 

Such  phrafeSf  as  have  only  one  definition  attached  to  them^ 
mufi  he  underjiood  in  a  general  fenfe. 

If  any  words  occur  in  thefe  definitions,  which  appear  oh- 
fcure  or  paradoxical,  or  do  not  ftifficiently  explain  the  meaning 
of  the  term  under  confideration,  the  reader  is  requefied  to  have 
recourfe  to  the  further  explanations  offuch  words,  in  the  alpha- 
betical order  of  this  Gloffary. 

^To  render  this  nomenclature  fuhfervient  id  the  purpofe  of 
obtaining  a  more  general  view  of  Kant'* s  Philofophy,  than  could 
he  given  in  the  preceding  Elements,  I  have  added  explanations  of 
many  terms,  which,  though  not  occurring  in  this  concife  account^ 
are  ufed  by  the  author  in  a  peculiar  fenfe. 

Aesthetic 
commonly  fignifies  the  Critique  of  Tafte,  but  with  Kant,  the 
fcience  containing  the   rules  of    fenfation,  in   contradiilinc- 
tion  to  Logic,  or  the  doftrine  of  the  Underftanding. 

To  AFFECt 

means,  to  mike  immediate  imprelfions  dn  the  S^nfitive  Facili- 
ty, i.  e.  to  occafion  reprefentations  and  defires. 

Affirmative,  See  Judgments. 
Agreeable,  (jucundum)  angenehm, 
is  an  objeft  of  the  Senfitive  Faculty,  fo  far  as  it  influences  tbfe 
will ;  or  what   pleafjps  the  fenfes  in  relation  to  feelings  ;  or 


Si  ^   wha 


140  GLOSSARY. 

what  affords  us-  pleafure.  The  agreeable  is  nat  fonaething  at" 
folutely  goody  i.  e.  good  in  the  eftimation  of  every  rational 
being  ;  becaufe  it  does  not  immediately  depend  on  Reafon  it- 
felf,  but  on  the  relative  ftate  of  the  mind,  fenfitive  inclina- 
tions, and  the  like.  The  good^  on  the  contrary,  is  an  objeft 
of  pure  Reafon,  fomething  that  is  conformEable  fd  the  fubjeft 
of  all  rational  beings. 

Analysis — Zergllederungy 
i)  of  an  ideuy  is  the  reduftion  of  it  to  thofe  charaders,  of  which 
it   is  compounded,  in  order   to  render  the  cognition  of  it 
clearer,  though  we  cannot  by  this  procefs    make  it  more 
complete :  hence  it   does  not   furnifli  us  with  additional 
knowledge,  but  merely  arranges  what  we  already  poflefs. 
a)  confidcred  in  a.  general J'^ufe  i  Analyfis  is  the  fcience,  treat- 
.    ing  of  the  form    of  real  knowledge,  and  of  the  rules,  by 
which  we  can  exanaine  that  knowledge.     It  is  a  part  of  ge- 
neral Logic f   and   the  negative  criterion  of  truth  ;  in  this 
fenfe  it  is  oppofed  to  Diale6iic. 

3)  Tranfcendental  Ajialyjis  is  the  decompofitlon  of  the  pure 
intelleftual  faculty  into  the  elements,  through  which  all  the 
operations  of  thought  are  carried  on. 

4)  oi pure  pr'aBical  Reafon^  i.  e.  of  the  pure  praftical  faculty 
of  Reafon,  or  of  the  pure  will,  into  its  elements. 

•Analytical,  See  Judgments, 
Anthropology 
fignifies  in  general  the  experimental  doftrine  of  the  nature  of 
man  ;  and  is  divided,  by  Kant,  into 

1)  theoretical  or  empirical  doftrine  of  mind,  which  is  a  branch 
of  N  atural  Philofophy  ; 

2)  praBicaly  applied,   and  empirical  Philofophy  of  Morals  j , 
Ethics — the   confideration  of  the   moral  law  in  relation  to 
the  human   will,  its   inclinations,  motives,  and  to  the  cb- 

"ilacles  in  praftifing  that  law. 

Anthro- 


GLOSSARY,  .141 

*        Anthropomorphismus 
is  the  art  of  attributing  properties,  obferved  irt  the   world  o£ 
fenfe,  to  a  being  remote  from  that  world  ;  or  the  fenfualiza- 
tion  of  an  idea  of  Reafon :  for  inftance,  if  we  think  of  the 
Deity  by  human  predicates. 

Anticipation 

of  experiefice,  is  a  cognition  of  objeds  liable  to  obfefVation 
a  priori,  previous  to  the  obfervation  itfelf,  i.  e.  according  to 
the  pure  ,form  of  perception,  in  confequence  of  which  all  phe- 
nomena are  in  Space  and  Time. 

AiffTiNOMY  OF  Reason 

1 .  in  general ;  a  contradidion  between  two  laws  ; 

2.  in  particular, 

a}  oi pure  Jpeculative  Keafottf  is  the  contradidlion  in  the  re- 
fults  of  it,,  in  the  application  of  its  fubjeftive  idea  rela- 
tive to  the  unconditional  thing,  as  well  as  in  the  applica- 
tion of  its  law,  to  the  world  of  fenfe  ;  a  law,  by  which 
we  form  conclufions  from  the  given  (perceived)  condi- 
tional thing,  to  what  is  unconditional. 

b}  oi pure  praQical  Reafon y  which  occurs  in  the  inquiry 
into  the  higheft  gdod  j  where,  on  the  one  hand,  pratftical 
Reafon  prefuppofes  a  neceflary  combination  between  vir- 
tue and  happinefs  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  no 
poffibility  of  perceiving  this  combination  analytically  or 
fynthetically,  neither  a  priori  nor  a  ^o^morr.— This  an- 
tinomy is  folved  by  ihowing  the  real  cotineftion  between 
our  good  conduft  and  wellbeing  ;  though  this  conneftion 
be  concealed  in  the  world  of  fenfe,  yet  it  is  really  ex* 
ifting  throughout  the  whole  of  it,  and  founded  on  the 
Xuperfenfible  exiftence  of  ourfelves,  in  connexion  with  o- 
thgr  things. 

Apodicticax, 


.I4i  GLOSSARY. 

Apodictical 
or  abfolute,  and  attended  with  the  confciottfnefs  of  neceffity; 

A  POSTEEIORI, 

i.  e.  through  fenfation,  experience — The  diftinftion  between 
cur  knowledge  obtained  a  pofierioriy  may  be  rendered  more 
clear  by  its  oppofite,  a  priori.  This  difliriftion,  in  the  philo- 
fophy  of  Kant,  does  not  relate  to  th&feries  oftimcy  in  which, 
but  to  the  fource^  from  which  we  receive  knowledge  or  cog- 
nitions. Every  reprefentation  or  cognition  is  a  pofieriori^ 
that  is  not  founded  merely  on  the  original  faculty  of  the  mind^ 
but  in  fome  one  or  other  modification,  which  that  faculty  has 
received.  Such  reprefentations  or  cognitions  are  therefore 
called  empirical. 

A  PRlClRi 

originally  does  not  fignify,  with  Kant,  a  cognition  or  repre-i 
fentation  which,  in  order  of  time,  precedes  experience ;  of 
which  we  could  become  confcious  independent  of  all  fenfations  j 
and  which,  at  the  fame  time  with  the  reprefenting  faculty^ 
could  be  prefent  in  our  mind  as  a  real  reprefentation.  Such 
are  the  "  innate  notions  or  ideas,"  which  Kant  exprefsly  re* 
jeiEls  throughout  his  works.  But  by  the  term  **  a  prior i^^  he 
underitands  thofe  reprefentations,  which  we  acquire  through 
the  exertions  of  our  own  mind,  or  the  thinking  fubjedl  ;  and 
not  through  obfervation  and  fenfation  (a  pojleriori) ;  not 
through  given  obje£ls  and  from  them,  hutfrom  our  faculty  of 
cognition  ;  though  this  latter  mull  be  rendered  aftive  by 
means  of  f«nfible  impreiEons  ;  and  though  the  origin  or  pro- 
dudlion  of  fuch  a  reprefentation  caa  in  this  manner  only  be 
accomplilhed.  Further,  all  that  is  a  priori^  which  lies  in  the 
6riginal  conformation  of  the  thinking  fubjefl,-  and  is  not 
founded  on  the  operation  of  objefts,  which  confequently  is 
not  firft  introduced  intQ  the  mind^  but  is  evolved  from  it,  by 

iis 


GLOSSARY.  143 

its  peculiar  faculties.  All  thcfe  reprefentations  neverthelefs 
prefuppofe  experience,  i.  e.  materials  of  application,  if  we  are 
to  become  confcious  of  them,  and  refer  them  to  objects.  With- 
out experience,  thej  are  non-entities.  They  do  not  precede 
experience  as  real  reprefentations,  but  as  the  conditions,  that 
render  experience  itfelf  poffible.  All  objedive  reality  of  thepi 
is  founded  merely  on  experience. 

Apperception 

or  confcioufnefs,   or  the   faculty  of  becoming  confcious,  fig«. 

nifies 

i)  in  general,the  faipe  as  reprefentation,  or  the  faculty  of  re- 

prefenting ; 
a)  in  particular,  the  reprefentation  as  diftinft  from  the  fub- 
jtd:  that  reprefents,  and  from  the  objeft  that  isi  reprefented. 
3)  filf -confcioufnefs^  for  which  we  have  two  faculties, 

a — the  empirical^  the  internal  fenfe,  i.  e,  the  confcioufnefs 
of  our  ftate  at  any  time,  of  our  obfervations.  This  is  as 
fubjeft  to  change,  as  the  obfervations  themfelves  ;  con- 
fidered  in  itfelf,  it  is  not  confined  to  any  one  place,  and 
does  not  relate  to  ^he  identity  of  the  fubjeft. 
b~the  tranfcendentaly  pure,  original,  i.  e.  the  confcioufnefs 
of  the  identity  of  ourfelves,  with  all  the  variety  of  empi- 
rical confcioufnefs..  It  is  that  felf-conlcioufnefs,  which 
generates  the  bare  idea  «  /,"  or  <*  /  tbink^^  as  being  the 
fimple  correlate  of  all  other  ideas,  and  the  condition  0^ 
their  unity  and  neceflary  connection. 

There  occurs  a  remark  in  Kant's  Critique  of  pure 
Reafon,  which  is  very  humiliating  in  the  tranfcendental 
doftrine  of  niind.  He  fays  upon  this  occafion  :  "  Though 
"  confcioufnefs  has  no  extenfiv^  magnitude,  and  there- 
*•  fore  is  not  divifible,  it  certainly  has  intenfive  magni- 
*'  tude,  and  we  may  well  conceive  a  ceffation  of  it,  by  a 
f*  remijfion  of  power. — For  there  is  a  certain  degree  pf 

*f  con- 


144  GLOSSARY. 

**  confcloufnefs  even  in  obfcure  reprefentations,  fave  that 
"  It  does  not  always  fuffice  to  diftinguifh  one  idea  from 
f'  another,  i.  e.  to  make  it  clear  and  evident." 

Appetitive  Faculty,  or  Faculty  of  Desiring, 
^Begehrungsvermogefi) 
in  the  moll  general  fenfe,  is  the  power  inherent  in  a  living 
being,  to  become  through  his  reprefentations  the  real  caufe  of 
obtaining  the  objefts  correfponding  with  them  ;  although  the 
phyfical  powers  fliould  not  be  adequate  to  the  real  produdion 
of  the  obje£l  delired  :  v,  g.  to  wifh  for  the  great  prize  in  the 
lottery,  and  the  like. 

Apprehension 

is  an  aft  of  the  mind,  bj  which  the  variety  of  individual  per- 
ceptions is  coUefted,  combined  with  one  another,  and  images 
?re  produced.     We  may  diflinguifli, 

1 .  the  fur^  fynthejis  of  apprchcnjion,  which  compounds  the  va- 
riety of  perceptions  a  priori,  of  Space  and  Time,  and  produ- 
ces pure  Images,  fuch  as  reprefentations  of  numbers,  geo- 
metrical figures, '&c. 
3.  empirical  apprehfnjtotii  which  combines  the  pure  percep- 
tions together  with  their  matter,  i,  e.  with  fenfible  impref- 
fions,  and  produces  the  images  of  phenomena  ;  v.  g.  wheq 
I  obferve  a  houfe,  the  freezing  of  water,  &p. 

Approbation,  See  Satisfaction. 

Architectonic 

is  the  art  of  conftrufting  Syftems.     The  Architeftonic  of  pare 

Reafon  is,  therefore,  the  plan  for  a  Syftem  of  pure  philofo- 

AKT,(KunJi) 
1,  in  the  moft  extenfive  fenfe,  is  arbitrary  produftipn,  in  con- 
fequence  of  preceding  reprefentations  j 

2. 


G  L  O  S  S  A  R  Yi  145 

2,  in  a  more  Umited  fenfe,  is  produftion  through  Liberty,  i.  e. 

through  a  free  will,  which  adopts  Reafon   as  the  ground  o^ 

its  adions. 

Articulatjon 
is  the  flrufture  of  the  menabers  of  a  fcienee,  or  the  fyftematic 
unity  of  it. 

Assertory,  See  Imperative  arid  Judgments. 
Attribute 
or  property y  is  a  charafter  belonging  to  the  exiftence  of  a  thing 
conceived,  as  to  its  internal  poffibility  ;  which  charadVer  can 
be  derived  from  things,  or  beings,  as  the  neceflary,  i;  e.  fuf- 
ficiently  ellabliflied  confequence  of  them. 

AUTONOMt, 

a  peculiar  legiflation  of  the  willj  is  that  conftitution  of  a  ra-^ 
tional  will,  by  which  it  is  a  law  to  itfelf,  by  which  it  deter- 
mines itfelf,  uninfluenced  by  inclinations.  It  is  the  indepen- 
dence of  the  will  on  all  matter  of  it,  i.  e.  on  fenlitive  defires  and 
their  objects  ;  the  dependence  on  a  rational  will,  merely  on  it- 
felf, i.  e.  upon  the  form  of  Reafon.  This  is  a  practically  ne- 
ceflary idea,  in  order  to  comprehend  in  this  manner  the  pofl[i- 
bility  of  aft  unconditional  Imperative,  and  a  goodnefs  (mora- 
lity) of  adions  independent  on  externjll  intereft. 

Axiom 
is  a  fynthetical  principle  a  priori,  which  contains  immedia^ 
or  intuitive  certainty  ;  i.  e.  derived  from  objefts  of  pure  per- 
ception, and  which  does  not  admit  of  proof,  and  of  the  truth 
of  which,  we  can  point  out  no  more  accurate  charadler,  than 
what  it  itfelf  exprcfles. 

Bad— 5o/^j 
is  that  which,  according  to  a  rational  principle,  is  a  neceflary 
bbjed  of  deteftation,  in  dift^indbion  from  the  difagreeable^  i.  Ct 
Ifvhat  occafion*  an  immediate  fenfation  of  pain. 

T  BEAUi 


446  GLOSSARY. 

Beautiful — ScBon 
is  that,  which  excites  pleafure  and  claims  our  approbation^ 
without  fatisfying  any  wants  :  which  pleafes  us  by  the  har- 
monious employment  of  our  reprefetiting  faculty,  unconneft^ 
with  animal  defires  ;  and  which  we  are  fond  of  communicat- 
ing to  others  ;  for  inllance,  a  witty  idea,  an  acute  or  bold  re- 
fleftion,  a  ftrong  pifture,  and  the  like. 

Beauty— — Schbnheit 
h  the  regular  conformation  of  an  objeft,  fo  far  as  we  obfervc 
this  in  it,  without  reprefenting  to  ourfelves  any  delign  or  pur- 
pofe  ;  th6  Regular  fubjeBive  conformation  of  an  objed  of  na* 
ture  or  art ;  the  expreffion  of  aefthetical  ideas. 

BeIng  --We/en,  Ding 
fignifies  i)  a  conception  with  its  conftituent  parts  ;  logically^ 
zJuhJeSium  quod.  The  term  '  being'  is  diftinguiflied  from  the 
word  '  nature  ;'  in  as  much  as  the  former  is  the  internal  prin- 
ciple of  all  thofe  determinations,  which  relate  to  the  pbj/ihiltt^ 
of  a  thing ;  and  the  latter,  nature,  is  the  internal  piinciple  of 
all  the  determinations,  relating  to  the  exijlence  of- a  thing  : — • 
2)  a  real  being,  fubjeBum  quo,  the  nature  of  a  thing. 

Belief — Glauhe 

1,  fignifies  the  aB  of  taking  fomething  for  true,  on  account  of 
fuiBcient  fubje£live,  without  any  objeftive,  reafons  for  do- 
lt   ingfo;  or,  in  other  words,  to  conceive  things  as  iubjedls  of 

cognition,  or  to  admit  their  poffible  exillence  ;  becaufe  Rea- 
fon  enjoins  it.     Thefe  fubje£tive  grounds  are  a  certain  in- 
'   tereft,  certain  purpofes  ; — 

2,  the  hahit,  the  moral  way  of  thinking,  by  which  Reafon  con- 
fiders  as  true,  what  is  inacccffible  to  our  theoretical  cog- 
nition of  things  ; — 

3,  in  particular,  j^^f J  facrcL\  the  adoption  cf  religious  prin* 
ciples. 

Canon", 


GLOSSARY.  147 

Canojt, 
in  general,  means  *  a  feience  treating  of  the  proper  ufe  of  our 
faculty  of  cognition:'  it  is  therefore  oppofed  to  *  Difcipline* 
which  is  a  guide,  direfting  us  to  prevent  the  improper  ufe  of 
that  faculty. 

Categorical,  See  Judgments. 
Categories 
I,  in  general,  are  original  notions  or  intelleftual  conceptions, 
which  correfpond  with  the  fimple  form  of  a  judgment ;  lo- 
gical funftions  applied  to  objefts  in  general ; — 
a,  in  particular,  and  according  to  their  twofold  ufe,  they  are, 

a)  Categories  of  theoretical  ReaforHy  or  of  Nature  j  fo  far 
namely,  as  they  are  referred  to  the  variety  of  fenfible 
perceptions,  in  older  to  give  it  unity  of  iapperception  in 
a  judgment  of  experience,  or  a  cognition  of  nature  ; 
hence  they^  are  conceptions  of  unity  in  this  cognition  ; 

b)  Categories  of  praElical  Reafon  \  fCi  far  as  the  fame  func- 
tions of  the  Underftanding  are  referred  to  the  variety  of 
defires,  in  order  to  obtain  for  it  unity  in  the  rational  idea, 
of  morality. 

Causality — Causation, 

dependencCj  caufal  connexion,  fignifies 

jy  logically y  the  funilion  of  the  Underftanding  in  a  hypothetic 
tical  judgment  j  the  reprefentation  concerning  the  logical 
relation  of  caufe  and  eflfeft  to  one  another  ; 

3,  as  the  pure  category  correfpdnding  with  this  funflion,  it  ex- 
prefles  the  notion  of  a  real  relation  of  different  objecls  to 
one  another ;  the  neceffary  determination  of  the  exiftence 
oC  a  fomething  through  fomething  of  a  different  kind,  whe- 
ther this  be  homogeneous  or  not  j~a  fpecles  of  fynthefis, 
Ta  in 


148  ,  G«L  O  S  S  A  R  Y. 

in  which;,  according  to,  and  by  means  of,  fomething  A 
(caufe)  we  neceflarily  admit  fomething  very  different,  B, 
(effeft),  and  this  in  confequence  of  an  abfolutely  general 
rule,  fo  that  we  can  conclude  the  exiftence  of  A,  from  the 
exiftence  of  B. 

Certainty — Gcivifsheit 
is  the  confcioufnefs  arifing   from  fulTicient  objective    reafons, 
which  are  valid  with  rcfped  to  every  body. 

Change — VerHnderung, 
accidens,  is  the  fucceffion  of  different  Hates,  tranfition  of  a 
thing  from  one  flate  to  another  ;  the  co-  exiftence  of  what  is 
Handing  and  fteady  in  time,  with  that  which  changes  ;  the 
connedtion  of  oppofite  predicates  in  one  and  the  fame  obje6l, 
but  at  different  times,  v.  g. motion,  i.  e.  a  being  and  not-being 
of  the  fame, things  in  the  fame  plape,  but  a|:  different  periods 
of  time. 

CoGNiTioiJ, — Erkenntnifs  y 
in  general,  is  a  whole  of  connefted  reprefentations  in  one  aft 
of  confcioufnefs  ;  or  the  determinate  reference  of  given  repre- 
fentations to  one  objedt. — Every  cognition  has  i)  matter,  fub- 
ilance,  i.  e.  fomething  obje£live,  which  arifes  from  the  ob- 
jefts  reprefented  ;  the  variety  of  given  perceptions,  objefts  ; 
'i)fortn,  i.  e.  a  determinate  way  or  mode,  in  which  the  given 
matter  is  received,  modified,  and  comb  ncd  by  the  reprefent- 
ing  facility  ;  that,,  which  relates  to  the  operation  of  mind  in 
our  cognitions  ;  that,  which  depends  upon  the  conftitution  of 
the  thinking  fubjedl,  or  of  the  Underftanding  and  Reafon. 

Common  Sense — Gememfinn 

is  the  faculty  of  determining  what  pleafes  or  difpleafes,  not 

through   conceptions,  but  merely  through  feelings  ;  yet  this 

determination  has  general  validity. 

Tq 


GLOSSARY.  14^ 

To  Conceive — Begreifen 

Jo  a  fundion  of  Reafon,  as  "  to  underjland^''  i.  e.  to  think  of  an 
obje<3:,  is  an  aft  of  the  Underftanding. 

Conception — Begriffy 

1,  in  the  moft  extenfive  fenfe  ;  is  everj  produ<Elion  of  the  ac- 
tive reprefenting  faculty,  by  which  variety,  or  the  multifari-. 
Qus,  is  cpnnefted  into  unity  : 

2,  in  a  more  deterpiined  fenfe  •,  is  a  general  reprefentation  ab- 
flra6ted  from  a  variety  of  intuitions,  and  is  oppofed  to  a  fingle 
reprefentation  or  intuition.  A  conception  of  this  kind  i?  called 
by  K^nt,  *  difcurjive  ;'  becaufe  it  does  not  immediately  refer 
to  the  objeft,  but  only  by  the  reprefentation  of  a  charafter, 
which  may  be  common  to  an  infinite  variety  of  things,  the  re- 
prefentation of  which  is  contained  under  (not,  in^  a  difcurjboe 
conception. 

In  CONCRETO, 

J.  e,  in  real  nature,  in  real  objefts  of  experience.  Here, 
many  things  may  be  differently  conflituted,  from  what  they 
are  *'  in  obJlraBoy''  i.  e,  when  we  refleft  merely  upon  the 
pure  idea  of  a  thing,  without  attending  to  what  mjiy  yet  lie  in 
the  fenfible  perception  of  an  objedl. 

Condition — Bed'mgungy 
the  requifite,  the  ground,  that  which  muft  be  prefuppofed,  in 
order  to  underftand  or  tp  comprehend  fome  other  datum,  or 

given  thing Whatever    prefuppofes  a   condition,  is   called 

conditionate  or  conditional. 

InpraQical  philofophy,  we  muH  diflinguifh 
J,  that,  which  is prqSiically  conditionate,  which  Is  determined 
through  natural  inclinations  and  neceflitics  ;  for  inftance,  the 
imperatives  of  happinefs  are  valid  only  under  the  condition, 

that 


t$»  GLOSSARY, 

that  a  perfon  feels  an  inclination  for  fomcthing,  an  impulfe  to- 
wards fomething,  a  necejQity  of  a  certain  kind  }  and  not  other- 
wife: 

a,  that,  which  is  pra&ically  unconditionatey  which  depends 
merely  on  Reafon  itfelf,  i.  e.  on  the  moral  law,  for  inftanc© 
a  pure,  dilinterefted  integrity,  fidelity,  and  general  utility* 

Conformation — Zweckmcifsigleit, 

i.  t./ormoy  Jive  nexus  Jinalisy  is  that  conlTitution  of  an  obje<Si 
(or  even  of  a  ftate  of  mind,  or  of  an  aft  ion),  which  can  be 
conceived,  or  thought  of  by  us,  as  poflible  only  through 
^  caufality  according  to  conceptions,  that  is,  through  a  Will, 

Conscience — Genvijfeny 

means  i)  the  moral  fenfe,  relative  to  our  own  aflions  ; 
l)  the  felf-determining   moral  faculty  of  judging  ;  that  un- 
conditionate  confcioufnefs  of  duty,  by  which  we  can   deter- 
mine Tyithin  ourfelves,  whether  an  a^lion,  we   are  about  ta 
perform,  be  juft  or  otherwife. 

Consciousness — — Bewufiseyn  ;  See  Apperceftion, 

Constitution  w  State — ^Statttsverfajfung ; 

the  moft  perfeft  is  that,  in  which  the  liberty  of  every  indi- 
vidual is  thoroughly  confiftent  with  the  freedom  of  all  mem- 
|»ers  of  focicty. 

CoNSTIfUTlVE 

principles  are  thofe,  which  refer  to  an  objeft,  fo  as  to  deter- 
mine fomething  relative  to  it,  i.  e.  to  the  reprefentation  of  it ; 
namely  either  the  intuition  of  an  objeft,  v.  g,  the  mathema- 
tical prii^ciples  ;  or  the  experirnental  conception  of  it,  v.  g.  the 
dynamical  principles  of  the  Underftanding. 

Regulative  principles,  on  the  contrary,  are  thbfe,  which 

do 


GLOSSARY.  i5t 

do  not  determine  the  objefts  themfelves,  but  which  aiFord  us 
rules,  i.  e.  determinations  of  the  Underftanding,  to  fearch  for 
the  objefts  In  quell  ion. 

To  Construct 
an  idea,  means  to  determine  an  individual  objeft,  i.  e.  the  per- 
ception itfelf  of  that  objeft,  which  is  perfeftlj  conformable  to 
the  general  idea. 

An  objeft  requires  perception ;  an  empirical  perception^, 
however,  We  cannot  fpontaueouily  produce ;  for  the  pure  per- 
ception only  is  poffible  a  prion.  In  this,  namely  Space  and 
Time,  we  can  form  certain  determinations,  and  combine  them 
in  the  pure  reprefenting  faculty,  for  inftance  an  equilateral 
triangle.  In  a  fimilar  manner,  we  can  conftrud  the  intenfiyc 
magnitude  of  the  fenfations  of  the  folar  light,  i.  e.  we  can  com- 
pound them  of  about  200,000  times  the  quantity  of  the  light 
of  the  moon,  and  predicate  them  in  a  determined  manner  a 
priori  ; — of  two  given  members  of  a  proportion,  we  are  able 
to  conftruft  a  third,  fuch  as  1  :  4  :  S,  &c. 

Conjlru&iony  in  a  general fenfCf  fignifies  every  exhibition  of . 
a  general  idea,  by  means   of  the  felf-a£live  produdiou  ot  a 
perception,  that  correfponds  with  the  idea.    " 

CoTHTAct-^^Beriibrung, 
I,  in  a  mathematical  fenfe,  is  the  common  boundary  of  two 
Spaces,  which  is  neither  within  the  one   nor  the  other,  v.  g. 
two  interfefting  lines  do  not  touch  one  another,  becaufe  their 
common  point  belongs  to  each  of  them  : 

If  in  a  phyjical  fenfe,  is  the  reciprocal  effeft  of  the  repelling 
powers  in  the  common  boundary  of  two  fpaces  ;  the  im*< 
mediate  adlion  and  reaftion  of  impenetrability.  It  is  diftin*- 
guifhed  from  the  a£tion  at  diftance,  i.  e.  from  the  effect  of  one 
matter  upon  the  other,  without  the  mediation  of  other  inter- 
▼enieiiit  matters  through  the  empty  fp:^,  ▼.  g.  in  the  effen- 

■     t.ial 


15*  GLOSSARY. 

tial  attraftlon. — The  beginning  of  contafl:  in  the  approach  of 
one  matter  to  another,  is  called  *  percuffion'  (^Sto/s)  ;  the  con- 
tinuation of  it, '  prelTure*  (Druck^. 

C  ONTINUANCE,  or  V EKM AHEiiCY—  Beharrlichieit, 
is  exiftence  at  all  times,  without   origin  and  evanefcence.     If, 
in  this  manner,  we  reprefent  to  ourfelves  the  exiftence  of  phe- 
nomena, we  clafs  them  iinder  the  pure  intellectual  conception, 
or  Category  of  Subftance. 

Con  Ti  NUiT  Y— 5'/«V/^i«V; 
refers  to  that  magnitude,  no  part  of  which  is  the  abfolutel;^ 
fmalleft  and  moft  fimple,  and  in  the  folutioh  of  which  we  ne- 
ver can  arrive  at  determined  laft  unities ;  for  inftance.  Space 
and  Time,  together  with  ihe  phenomena  that  exift  in  them. 

Contradiction — Widerfpruch  ; 

the  principle  of  contradiction,  i.  e.  *'  no  one  thing  admits  of 
being  reprefented  bj  contradictory  predicates,"  is  the  nega- 
tive criterion  of  all  abftraft  truth,  and  the  fource  of  all  our 
analytical,  but  not  of  fynthetlcal,  cognitions. 

Conviction:  See  Proofs; 
Cosmology  ; 
the  tranfccndentaly  rational  cofmology  ;   is  elt^ier   the  Science 
Embracing  the  whole  of  the  pheiiomena  in  nature,   of  the  me- 
taphyseal philofophy  of  the  fuperfenfible  properties  of  all  ob- 
jeCts  exifting. 

COSMO-THEOLOGT 

is  the  cognition  of  a  primitive  Being,  from  the  exiftence  ci  a 
Tvorld  in  general,  and  its  accidental ity,  as  oppofed  tofubflance^ 

Criticism^ 
with  Kant,  fignifies  a  critical  mode  of  proceeding  y^doubts  of 
•delay)  i.  e.  the  ma*^m^  of  general   diftruft  with  fefpeCt  to  aH 

fynthetlcal 


GLOSSARY.  153 

fynthetlcal  j  udgments  a  priori^  until  we  have  acquired  a  view 
of  the  univerfal  ground  of  tbeir  poflibility,  in  the  effentlalcon* 
ditions  of  our  faculties  of  cognition. 

Critique  of  Pure  Reason, 
or  tranfcendental  Critique,  is  the  Science  of  the  pure  facility 
©f  Reafon  ;  the  inquiry  into  thofe  particulars,  which  Reafon 
is  able  to  know  and  to  perform,  from  its  own  fources,  and 
independent  of  experience  •,—'vid.  the  more  ample  definition, 
pp.  42  and  43.  ^ 

CutTUR£^ 
in  ^pojitive  fenfe,  is  ufed  by  Kant^  to  exprefs  the  promptnefs 
we  acquire  in  obeying  rules  ;  to  which  he  oppofes  the  term 
*  Difciplinis^  in  a  negative  fenfe^  which  weakens  and  deftroys 
that  readinefs,  and  makes  xis  fufpend  our  judgment.  Tha 
whole  Critique  is  a  Difcipline,  as  to  the  contents  of  pure  ra- 
tional cognition  ;  but  as  to  its  infithod,  only  a  particular  part 
of  the  Critique  is  Difcipline* 

Daemonology 
is  the  doftrine  of  higher,  but  in  other  refpeds  finite,  beings 
refembling  man  ;  in    oppofitlon   to   "Tlocologyy  the  doftrine  o£ 
the  highefl  and  infinite  Being,     f  hyfical  Teleology  leads  us  to 
the  former  ;  moral  Teleology  to  the  latter. 

Deception — Betriig,  Tauschungf 
Is  that  lilufion  of  the  Jen/es,  "When  x^e  confider  foraething, 
which  is  obtained  by  conclufions,  as  the  immediate  obferva- 
tion  itfelf.  This  is  no  error  of  the  fenfes,  but  of  the  Judging 
Faculty  or  the  Undei (landing.-^ — There  is  not  only  a  deception 
of  the  external  fenfe  y  v.  g.  the  optical,  but  alfo,  an  illnfion  of 
the"  internal  fenfe  f  v.  g.  when  the  fanatic  believes  to  feel  fu- 
pernatural  influence,  or  when  we  crfnfound  the  fenfation, 
which  necefTarily  accompanies  a  moral  aftion  or  detei  mination 
of  the  will,  with  the  caufe  of  the  adlion  itfelf, 

U  DZDUCTIOfJ' 


154  GLOSSARY. 

Deduction, 
in  general,  is  the  proof  of  a  legal  claim,  a  right  j  but,  in  par- 
ticular, Kant  underftands  bj  it  the  eftablilhment  of  a  re- 
prefentation  ;  the  proof  of  the  right  we  have  to  make  ufe  of 
it ;  the  proof,  that  a  reprefentation  has  fenfe,  meaning,  rea- 
lity, objeftive  validity,  that  it  is  not  vague  or  empty,  but  re- 
lates to  objedls.  ' 

■  Demonstrable, 
in  Logic,  are  called  thofe  pofitions,  which  admit  of  irtimediate 
proof  J  in  oppofition  to  indemoihjirable  pofitions,  that  admit  of 
no  proof ;— in  a  critical  fenfe,  fuch  cbnceptions  or  judgments 
are  dcmonflrable,  as  can  be  exhibited  in  perception,  whether 
pure  or  empirical  ;  in  oppofition  to  the  indcmonfixabh,  which 
cannot  be  thus  exhibited. 

Determination — Bejlimmungy 
l)  as  oppofed  to  fubllance  ;  accidens,  a  logical  predicate  of  a 
fubjeft  :  2)  a  real  predicate  J  which  amplifies  the  conception  > 
XXi^  determination  of  a  thing  :  v.  g.  hard,  elaflic,  &c.  and  n^t 
mere  exillence. — ^The  determinations  of  a  thing  are,  according, 
to  the  fource  of  cognition,  empirical^  when  they  ate  derived 
from  experience  ;  tranfcendentalf  when  they  arife  from  the  re- 
prefenting  fubj  eft  «/>riorr." 

Determinism 
is  the  principle  of  determining  the  will  from  JuiHcient  inter- 
nal   (fubjeftive)  reafons.     To   combine  this   principle  with 
that  of  freedom,  i.  e,  abfolute  fpontaneity,  occafions   no  dif- 
ficulty. 

Dialectic 
is  ufed  by  Kant  in  the  following  fignifications  r 
1)  logical,  foTmz\ 'f  that  Logic,  which  treats  of  the  fources  of 
error  and  illufion,  and  the  mode  of  deteftin^  them : 


GLOSSARY.  155 

2)  tranfcendeatali  material  Dialeftlc  ;  the  exhibition  and 
judgment  of  that  illufion,  which  arifes  from  the  fubjeftive 
conftitution  of  Reafon  itfelf  a  priori. 

Discipline — Zucht,  See  Culture. 

Disjunctive  •,  See  Judgments. 

To  Dispute 

upon  any  thing,  means  to  decide  it  by  proofs,  i.  e.  from  ob- 
jeftive  conceptions,  on  which  the  judgment  is  founded — ^To 
conteji  (ftreiten)  any  thing,  fignifies  to  claim  the  confent  of 
others  to  our  judgment ;  though  we  cannot  always  produce 
objeftive  reafons,  and  frequently  have  only  fubjeftive  grounds 
to  go  upon,  i.  e.  aefthetical  grounds,  feelings. 

Distance:  See  Contact. 

Divines — Geijiliche 

are  teachers  of  the  pure  moral  Religion  ;  as  being  oppofed  to 
* priejisyi.  e.  the  confecrated minifters  oi pious  cuftoms  and  ce- 
remonies. 

Dogma, 

or  a  dogmatical  judgment,  is  a  direft  fynthetical  decifion  from 
conceptions,  and  is  diftinguiflied 

1,  from  analytical  judgments,  which  properly  teach  nothing  ; 

2,  from  experimental  pofitions,  which  have  no  apodidic  or 
demonftrative  certainty ; 

3,  from  mathematical  principles,  i.  e.  from  fynthetical  judg- 
ments arifing  from  the  conftruftion  of  ideas  ;  and 

4,  from  principles,  i.  e.  indlre£t  fynthetico-apodidic  judg- 
ments, fuch  as  the  principle  of  the  *  fufficient  reafon.''  Spe- 
culative pure  Reafon  contains  no  dogmas  ;  for  its  ideas 
have  no  conftitutive,  objedive  reality  ;  hence  it  aflraits  of 
oo  dogmatical  method.  < 

U  a  Dog- 


%S^  GLOSSARY. 

Dogmatism 

or  the  dogmatical  procefs  of  pure  Reafon,  is  the  prejudice  of 
maintaining  and  deciding  metaphylical  propolitions  according 
to  cuftomary  pi-inciples,  and  of  determining  uppn  the  exift- 
cnce  or  non-exiflence  of  fuperfenfible  obje£ls  and  their  pro- 
perties, without  having  previoufly  deduced  the  poffibility  of 
them  from  the  faculties  of  Reafon  :  it  is  therefore,  Metaphyfics 
without  a  previous  Critique. — Dogmatifm  paves  the  way  for 
Scepticifm  ;  this  compels  us  to  have  repourfe  to  a  Critique  ; 
and  this  lallly  couducls  us  to  a  folid  fyftpm  of  fcience, 

Duty — Pfiicht^ 
is  the  obedience  of  a  law  f lom  a  true  regard   for  it  ;  the  ob- 
jeftive  neceffity  of  an  aftion  for  the  fake  of  the  law,  fo  far  as 
this  ohliget  the  will,  i.  e.  morally  compels  it ;  though  it  may 
have  fome  other  fubjeftive  defires. 

Dynamical 
i)  in  general,  is  faid  of  things,  fo  far  as  we  do  not  attend  to 
their  quantity  in  perception,  but  to  the  ground  or  caufe  of 
their  exiftence.  Hence  Kant  calls,  2)  in  particular,  ^ifynthefis 
dynamical,  where  the  things  combine4  neceffarily  belong  to  ' 
one  another,  but  mull  not  neceffarily  be  of  a  homogenous  na- 
ture, becaufe  they  do  not,  (as  in  the  mathematical  fynthefis) 
conftitute  together  One  magnitude,  quantum.  The  fyntliefis 
of  caufe  and  effeft,  for  inftance,  is  dynamical. 

Effect  :  See  Causality. 
Empirical  ;  See  A  posteriori. 
Epigenesis  of  pure  Reason 
has  been  called  the  Kantian  explanation  concerning  the  coin- 
cidence of  the  pure  intelle£lual  conceptions  (Categories)  with 
the  obje6h   of  experience  ;  according  to  which  explanation, 

by 


GLOSSARY.  157 

1>y  thefe  pure  notions  or  conceptions,  being  the  forms  of 
thought,  experience  itfelf  and  its  objeds,  as  fuch,  become  pof- 
ilble, 

Vid.  the  fourth  Probleni,  p,  49  &  feq. 

Ethico-theologt 
is  that  fpecies  ot  Theology,  which  is  derived  from  pure  moral 
arguments,  and  admits  no  fjmbolical  reprefentations. 

Experience — Erfahrung 
is,  with  Kant,  an  objective,  i.  e.  univerfally  valid  and  neceflary 
fynthotical  cognition  of  given  objedls  (phenomena)  ;  or,  the 
reprcfentation  of  obfervations  in  a  neceflarily  determined  con- 
nexion ;  cognition  through  combined  obfervation  ;  the  con- 
pedlion  of  fenfible  reprefentations  according  to  certain  laws. 

Extension — Ausdehnungy 

in  the  moft  comprehenfive  fenfe,  is  the  reprcfentation  of  a 
whole,  by  means  of  its  continued  parts.  If  thefe  are  fimul- 
taneous  or  coexiftent,  it  is  Space  :  if  they  follow  one  another 
in  fucceffion,  it  is  lime.  According  to  this  ufe  of  the  word 
?  extenlion,*  every  magnitude  is  called  extenjiv^^  which  is  re- 
prefented  by  the  fucceffive  connexion  of  parts  of  time  and 
fpace,  when  the  reprcfentation  of  the  whole  becomes  poflible 
only  by  the  reprcfentation  of  the  parts.  In  this  fenfe  exten- 
fion  ig  ufed  in  Mathematics,  and  hence  the  mathejts  extenforum. 

Extensive  power 
is,  according  to  Kant,  original  elafticity  or  the  power  of  an 
extended  thing  by  means  of  the  repulfion  of  all  its  parts. — It 
fo  far  differs  from  what  is  commonly  called  elajlicityy  as  this 
is  the  power  of  a  matter,'  to  refume  its  form  or  magnitude 
(Changed  by  another  moving  power,  upon  the  remiffion  of  the 
latter. 

Fancy 


153  GLOSSARY. 

TAiicr—Wahn 
is  that  deception,  in  which  we  confider  the  mere  reprefcnta- 
tion  of  a  thing  as  equivalent  to  the  thing  itfelf.  Religious, 
fancy  manifefts  itfelf  in^this,  when  man  confiders  the  flatutory 
belief  and  ceremonies  as  the  fubftance  of  religion,  and  as  the 
fupreme  condition,  upon  which  he  may  obtain  the  approba- 
tion of  the  Deity. 

Fatalism 

is  that  fjftem,  in  which  the  connedion  of  purpofes  in  the 
■world  is  confidered  as  accidental ;  and  in  which  this  connec« 
tion  is  yet  derived  from  a  Supreme  Being,  not  indeed  from  his 
rational  nature,  but  from  the  neceflary  conflitution  of  this 
Being,  and  the  unity  of  the  world  thence  arifing.  Such^  for 
inllance,  is  the  fyftem  of  Spinoza. 

Final  purpose — Endzweck 
is,  that,  which  requires  no  other  purpofe  as  the  condition  of  its 
poffibility  ;  which  contains  in  itfelf  the  determining  caufe,  the. 
neceflary  and  fufficient  condition  of  all  other  purpofes. 

Form 
is  the  determined  mode  of  thinking  fomething,  of  the  manner 
of  its  exiftence  ;  it   is  oppofed   to  matter,  i.  e.  that  which  is 
given  and  determinable. 

Function 
is  the  office,   the  aftlvity,  the  form  of  an  higher  faculty  of 
<•  cognition  :   i)  of  the    XJnderJiancUng  — to  think  and  to  judge  ; 
3)  of  Reafon  — ^to  conclude. 

FunSiion  is  oppofed  to  affe£lion^  as  this  implies  a  change,  to 
which  our  Senlitive  Faculty  is  fubjeft. 

Genius — ingenium 
is  the  talent,  the  gift  ofiiature,  or  the  native  difpofition  of  the 

mind,  from  which  nature  prefcribes  the  rule  to  art. 

To 


GLOSSARY.  159 

To  Give — Geben 
an  obje£l.  Is  to  p3rceive  it,  to  obferve  it ;  to  refer  the  concep- 
tion of  it  to  real  or   poflible  experience.     That   an  cbjeft  be 
given,  is  a   neceflary   condition  for  receiving  a  cognition  of  it, 
but  not  fo,  for  thinking  of  it  only. 

Good — CuteSf 
is  that,  of  which  reafon  approves,  and  v^hich  It  confiders  as 
pra£tically  neceffarj ;  that,  which  according  to  a  rational 
principle  is  a  neceffary  objedt  of  the  faculty  of  defiring  ;  which 
has  fome- value.  It  is  oppofed  to  the  ^j^r^^aiZ?,  which  fatis- 
fies  the  inclinations  of  the  fenfes,  or  which  affords  us  pleafure. 

Gravitation 

is  called  the  effefl  of  unlverfal  attraction,  which  every  part  of 
matter  immediately  exerts  on  all  other  parts,  and  at  all  dis- 
tances  Kant  dillingulflies  gravitation  hova  gravity ^  i.  e.  the 

effort  of  matter  to  move  itfelf  in  the  direftioa  of  the  fuperior 
gravitation. 

Groukd  of  determination — Bejlimmungsgrund. 

The  grounds  or  caufes  of  determining  our  aftions,  are  called 
formal  (laws),  fo  far  as  they  afcertain  the  way  and  manner, 
in  which  we  view  an  objeft  ;  material  (maxims),  fo  far  as 
they  determiire  the  objefts,  to  which  an  aflion  is  direfted , 
fuhjeBive  (laws),  fo  far  as  they  depend  upon  pure  rational  con- 
ceptions ;  obje^ive  (motives j,  fo  far  as  they  affeft  the  Senfi- 
tive  Faculty  ;  pra&ical,  fo  far  as  the  laft  ground,  which  de- 
terftiines  the  will  is  an  idea  from  pure  Reafon  ;  ae/lheti- 
caly  when  the  laft  grounds  of  volition  are  met  with  in  certain 
feelings  of  fenfe.  The  pure  moral  law  is  the  formal  ground 
of  determining  moral  aftions  ;  hence  the  good  and  bad,  i.  e. 
the  objefts  of  moral  defire  and  averfion,  depend  upon  this  law  : 
it  is,  therefore,  likevvlfe  the  material  ground  of  determina- 
tion. 


i6o  GLOSSARY. 

tioa,  and  Is  objeftlve,  aS  being  the  form  of  pradical  Reafori 
fe  If.  The  moral  fenfe  is  the  fubjeftive  ground  of  the  fame 
a6lion  ;  but,  as  this  fenfe  or  feeling  itfelf  is  again  produced 
hy  Reafon,  it  cannot  be  aefthetical. 

Happiness — Glucifeligkeit 

fignlfies,  with  Kant,  the  whole  profperity  of  a  finite,  rational 
being  ;  the  confcioufnefs  of  the  agreeable  fituation,  which  un* 
interruptedlv  accompanies  the  whole  exiftence  of  fuch  a  being. 
—It  arifes  from  the  fatisfaftion  of  all  inclinations,  from  the 
attainment  of  all  ends,  which  the  Senfitive  Faculty  propofes, 
and  is  therefore  a  prototype  of  the  imagination. 

Heteroxomy, 

or  a  foireign  legiflation,  is  that,  in  which  not  the  wIU  itfelf, 
but  fomething  elfe  determines  us  to  a6l  in  a  certain  manner  ; 
when  not  the  adion  itfelf,  but  merely  its  objeft,  its  efFe^, 
interefts  us  ;  when,  befide  the  idea  of  the  action,  another  ex- 
traneous allurement  or  compulfion,  i.  e.  hope  or  fear  mult 
concur,  in  order  to  produce  the  action. 

Highest  Good — H'dchjies  Gut 

is  the  whole  unconditionate  objeft  of  pure  pra£lical  Reafon, 
and  confifts  i)  in  virtue  as  the  conftltuent  of  being  happy  j 
t)\&  fiipreme  good ;  2)  in  happinefs  itfelf,  fo  far  as  it  is  con- 
nefted  with  that  worth  ;  XhtperfeB  good. 

Hypothesis 

is  an  explanation  of  fomething  that  is  real,  by  fomething  elfe, 
the  reality  of  which  is  not  demonftr able  or,  at  leaft,  is  not  de-^ 
inonft  rated. 

Hypothetical  r  See  Judgments. 

Idea. 

'ifhis  expT^sflion  Kant  employs  more  deterdiinately  (bor- 
rowed 


GLOSSARY.  i6i 

rowed  from  Plato),  than  is  commonly  ufed  in  modern  lan- 
guages. According  to  Kant,  it  fignifies  aneceflary  conception 
of  Reafon,  the  objedl  of  which  cannot  b«  perceived  by  the 
fenfes,  nor  acquired  by  experience. 

Idealism 
is  called  that  fyftem  of  philofophy,  in  which  the  external  reali- 
ty of  certain  intuitive  reprefentations  is  difputed  or  doubted, 
and  fpace  as  well  as  external  objefts  are  afferted  to  be  mere 
fancies.^Such  is  the  fyftem  of  the  celebrated  bifliop  Berkley. 

Illusion — Tduf(;hungy  Schein, 

is  a  falfe  judgment,  in  which  we  attribute  a  predicate  to  an 
objedl  in  itfelf,  which  predicate  belongs  to  it  merely  in  rela- 
tion to  the  fubje£l. 

Imagination — Einhlldungskraft 
is  the  facility  of  reprefentlng  an  obie^tj  in  perception,  though 
it  fliould  pot  be  prefent. 

Immanent 

is  ufed  by  Kant  in  oppofition  to  tranfcendsntal :  the  former, 
term  is  applied  to  conceptions  or  principles,  v^hich  are  valid 
in  nature,  and  are  ufed  concerning  objefts  of  experience,  phe- 
nomena ;  though  the  principles  themfelves  are  not  derived 
from  experience :  v.  g.  the  application  of  the  principle  of 
.  caufality  is  immaftent,  when  it  is  applied  to  the  relation  fub- 
filling  among  the  plienomena  of  nature  as  fuch  :  it  would  be 
tranfcendenty  when  we  go  with  this  principle  beyond  expe- 
rience, and  endeavour  to  prove  from  it  the*  exiftence  of  the 
Deity. 

Immortality — Unsterbllchkeity 
of  the  foul,  cannot  be  proved  from  fpeculative    reafons,  nor 
from  its  felf- fubfiftence,  fimplicity,  and  fo  forth  ;' hence  it  is. 


1(52  G  L  O  S  S  A  R  Y. 

not  properljr  an  objeft  of  knowledge,  but  it  may  yet  be  con- 
cluded by  analogy,  partly  from  the  difproportion  of  the  great 
talents  of  man  to  the  confined  duration  of  his  prefent  life  ;  and 
partly  for  the  fake  of  giving  energy  to  the  necelTary  laws  of 
morality  :  in  this  manner  it  may  be  defended  againft  all  thq 
fpeculative  objeftions  of  the  rude  materialifts.  , 

IlVrPERATIVE-r-G^io/, 

i)  in  general^  is.  an  obje£live  practical  law  ; 
?)  in  a  more  determined  fenfe,  it  is  the  formula  or  prefcribed 
model  of  that  law,  by  which  it  is  referred  to  a  will,  as  the  ne- 
ceffary  precept  of  its  adliom ;  though  this  will  may  fubjec- 
tively  have  fome  other  obje£J;  of  its  wiflies,  becaufe  it  is  not 
purely  rational,  but  alfo  depends  on  inclinations,  v.  g.  thofe 
of  the  human  fpecies. 

Impression — Eindruck. 
^  Objefts  make;  impreffions  upon  us,'  fignifies  with  Kant,  that 
objefts  of  the  external  fenfe,  external  phenomena,  afFe6^  the 
internal  fenfe,  and  are  real  objefts  of  thought ;  confequently, 
that  they  are  fufficiently  diflinguifhed  from  the  thoughts  them- 
felves,  which  never  can  be  exhibited  in  Space* — The  modus 
operandi  or  the  origin  of  this  influence  occafioned  by  fenfible 
impreffions,  cannot  be  explained  by  the  principles  of  Kant, 
nor  of  any  other  philofopher. 

Inclination — Neigung 

fignifies  a  fenfible  impulfe,  the  dependence  of  the  appetitivq 
faculty  on  fenfations  ;  in  oppofition  to  *  interejiy  i.  e.  the  de- 
pendence of  that  faculty  on  rational  ideas. — The  amount  of 
all  inclinations  \sfelf-love  ;  the  fatisfaftion  or  gratification  of 
an  inclination  is  pleafure- ;  that  of  all  inclinations,  is  happVnefs^ 

Indeterminisw 
is  that  inert  fyftem  of  philofophy,  which  imagines  freedom  to 

confifl; 


b  L  O  is  S  A  R  Y.  163 

V^Di^ft  In  the  accldentalky  (chance)  of  adions  ;  that  the  will 
is  not  at  all  determined  by  arguments  ;  and  that  a  free  being 
is  equally  liable,  to  commit  good  as  well  as  bad  adions 

Ind,ifferj:nti3ts 
are  called  thofe  latitudinarians  of  neutrality,  who  aflert,  that 
there  are  indifferent  or  involuntary  actions,  which  are  neither 
morally  good  nor  bad. 

iNpivjiDUAJL  :  See  JuDGMEilTs; 

Inducement — Bewegangsgrund, 
is  the  obje£live  ground  of  the  will,  fo  far  as  it,  being  repre- 
fented  by  Reafon,  determines    the   will. — It  is   diftinguiftied 
from  the  *  motive,*  'Triebfeder^  which  is  fometl^ing  fubjedlive^ 
i.  e.  an  inclination^  which  impels  us  to  an  aftion. 

Induction 

i$  cognition  of  the  whole  or  of  the  genus,  by  means  of  the 
parts  obferved  or  perceived  :  v.  g.  if  we  afcribe  to  bodies  in 
general,  what  we  have  hitherto  every  where  difcovered  in 
them.  From  indilftion  there  arifes  only  a  comparative  uni- 
Verfality,  or  generality  of  an  empirical  rvde. 

•iNFiNtTE :  See  Judgments. 
ItHTmTioa^^—Anfchauungi 

1)  in  the  moljt  extenfive  fenfe,  is  every  reprefentation  of  va- 
riety or  the  multifarious,  fo  far  only,  as  we  confider  the  va- 
riety, and  liot  the  unity  in  the  obje£l.  In  fo  far,  however,  as 
the  reprefentation  prefents  variety,  we  may  call  every  repre- 
fentation a  perception,  and  unfold  it  further  as  fuch  ; 
3)  in  a  more  confined  and  proper  fenfe,  an  intuition  is  not  a 
bare  reprefentation  of  fight,  but  every  immediate  reprefenta- 
tion of  the  individual   thing,  a  fingle  reprefentation,  which 

X  2  imme* 


i64  GLOSSARY.- 

itntnediatelj  refers  to  an  objeft,  and  by  which  this  Is  givef^- 
i.  e.  perceived. 

To  Judge — Urtheikn 

fignifies  to  give  unity  to  two  reprefcntations,  namely  to  the 
reprefentation  of  an  obje6l,  v.  g.  of  a  mkn,  and  that  of  a  cha- 
r*a6ter,  v.  g.  man  is  a  rational  being. 

Judging  Faculty — UrtheiUkraft, 

is  the  power  of  thinking  of  the  particular,  as  contained  under 
the  general  or  uniVerfal.-^Kant  divides  this  Faculty  into  i )  the 
detertnining  (fubfuming)  power  of  judging ;  this  again  is  a) 
empirical,  b)  tranfcendental ;  2)  the  reflecJling  or  reflex  power 
.  of  judging,  which  is  further  fubdivided  into  a)  aefthetical,  b) 

teieological . The  meaning  of  thefe  terms  may  be  found  ift 

their  refpe£livl  places  in  the  alphabetical  order. 

Judgments — Urtheilsy 

according  to  the  ufual  definition  of  Logicians,  are  reprefenta- 
tions  of  one  relation  lubfiftingljetween  two  notions  or  con- 
ceptions. This  explanation,  however,  applies  only  to  the  ca- 
tegorical judgments,  and  does  not  determine  the  nature  of  this 
relation.  For,  even  by  the  laws  of  the  reprefenting  power, 
there  arifes  likewife  a  relation  among  our  conceptions,  which 
cannot  with  any  propriety  be  called  a  judgment.  According 
to  Kant,  therefore,  a  judgment  in  general  is  the  aft  of  com- 
prehending a  variety  or  the  multifarious,  reprefented  by  an 
intuition,  under  objedive  unity.  And  as  nothing  elfe  but  in- 
tuitions can  ht  reprefented  under  this  unity,  they  muft  ex- 
hibit either  properties  of  a  thing,  or  efFedts  of  a  thing,  or' 
parts  of  a  whole.  Hence  the  following  Judgments  will  be 
the  refult  cf  all  reprefentations. 

1.  Judgments  OF  Quantity,  which  determine  wtiat  can  ba 

comprehended  under  objeftive  unity.     The  three  fpecies  of 

them  are. 

Individual f 


G  L  O  S  S  A  R  Yi  165 


j  caa   be 
"}>hended 


^bidividual  or  Jlngular^  when  one  individ- 
ual thing,  J  caa    be   compre- 

T>       .     7  t,  >hended  under  ob- 

rarticular.  when  many,  1  •  ri- 

*  J*  I  jeaive  unity. 

Univerfalt  when  all,  J 

*  II.  Judgments  of  Qctality,  which  afcdrtain  the  manner,  in 
which  the  aft  of  comprehending  can  be  carried  on. 
Their  fpecies  are. 
Affirmative,  i.  e.  fo  as  really  to  unite  an  intuition  with  a  con- 
ception ; 
Negatii/Cy  or  fo  as  to  exclude  fomething  from  a  conception ; 
Infinite f  or  fo  as  to  exclude  a  whole  clafs  of  intuitions,  without 
determining  thereby  the  conception  in    any  degree. 

III.  Judgments  of   Relation,  or  fuch  as  exprefs  the  rela- 
tions fubfifting  between  things    and  properties,  caufes  and 
efFe£ls,  parts  and  a  whole.     The  fpecies  of  this  clafs  are, 
Categorical,  when  particular  properties  or  things. 
Hypothetical,  when  particular  efFefts  or  caufes, 
DisjunBive,   when  particular  parts  or  wholes  are  compre- 
hended under  objeftive  unity.'' 

IV.  Judgments  of  Modality,  are  thofe  which  denote  the 
particular  faculties  of  the  mind,  by  means  of  which  they 
have  been  formed  ;  or  determine  .that  place,  where  the 
things  judged  of,  or  comprehended  under  objeftive  unity, 
have  their  refpedive  feat.     The  fpecies  of  thefe  are, 

Frohlematical,  when  the  things  exifl  in  the  Underftanding 
alone,  or  are  mere  ideas,  of  which  it  is  not  cer-* 
tain,  whether  they  really  exift  without  the  mind  j 

yijfertory,  when  the  things  comprehended  under  the  objeftive 
are  in  reality  conceived,  and  believed  to  corre- 
fpond  with  the  conception  we  have  of  them  ;  and 

ApffdiBical,  or  attended  with  the  charafter  of  neceflity,  when 
the  things  are  fo  coilceived,  as  to  carry  along  with 

themr 


t66  iG  L  O  S  1^  A  k  Y. 

them  the  eonvl6:ion,   that  according  to  the  con- 
ilitutioa  of   the    Underflandingj  they   cannot  be 
jotherwife  conceived,  whether  in  an  affirmative  or 
negative  inftance. 
The  three  lafl  fpecies  of  Judgments  have  been  redijced  by  ^ 
Kant  to  the  clafs  of  *  modality  ;'  becaufe  they  add  nothing  to 
the  contents  of  a  judgment,  as  is  the  cafe  with  thofe  of*  quan- 
tity,' *  quality,*  and  *  relation.' 

The  further  divifion  of  Judgments,  as  to  tJieir  QrigWf  ohJe&Sf 
Jorm,  ufe,  &c.  cannot  be  detailed  in  an  elementary  treatifej 
for  this  would  require  a  feparate  work,  which  Kant  has  ac- 
tually publiihed,  and  of  which  the  reader  will  find  fom6  account, 
in  the  preceding  elementary  view  of  his  works,  under  No. 
XXV.  (9). 

To  K.mw^Wifen, 

obje£l:ively  confideredj  is  to  have  apodi^lieal  or  d^monftrative 
certainty.  This  is  poffible  only  in  cognitions,  the  origin  of 
which  is  a  priori. 

Knowledge  :  See  Cognition^ 

Law— G^^a;. 

A  Law  is  an  obje£iive  neceflary  rule^  or  the  teprefentatio  n  of 

a  general  condition,  according  to  which  a  variety  or  what  is 

multifarious  mull  be  uniformly  applicable  to  all. 

LBlGAiiyyi — GefetzmaJJlgkeit, 
moral  reftitude,  is  predicable  of  every  determination  of  the 
will  and  fubfequent  aftion,  which  agree  with  the  moral  law  j 
whether  this  action  arile  frtjm  the  repr^fentation  of  the  law 
atfdf,  or  from  the  kielination  refulting  from  the  view  of  the 
fuccefs  and  advantage  of  the  aftion — As  to  the  morality,  i.  e, 
rfie  propei-ly  moral  value  of  the  aftion,  there  is  ftill  required 
a  virtuous  fentiment,  or  the  determination  tp  a  lawful  adtlodi 
through  the  law  independent  of  any  profpe6t  of  gain  or  lofs. 

LiBKRxy 


GLOSSARY.  f  6> 

Liberty,  FRKEDoM^^Frejhett, 
i?  confidered  as  the  attribute  of  an  intelligent  being,  fo  &r  as 
its  aftions  are  not  determined  bj  foreign  caufes.     Such  a  can- 
falitj  and  its  adtion  is  called  free. 

Limitation 

is  a  Category  of  Quality,  which  is  conceived  in  things,  by 
connefting  the  predicate  of  reality  with  that  of  negation  ;  in  a 
fimilat  manner  as  the  judgments  of  quality  (i.  e.  the  fpccies  of 
thofe  called  by  Kant,  infinite^  have  fomething  common  witl^ 
the  form  of  both,  affirmative  and  negative, 

Man — Menfch 

a  moral  being,  fubjedl  to  moral  laws  by  virtue  of  bis  ratioaal 
liature  :  hence  it  is  highly  improper  to  call  him  a  fighting 
animal,  as  fome  of  the  modern  co-ttrt-philofophers  are  pleafed 
to  define  him — A  had  man,  is  he  who  has  adopted  deviation 
from  the  moral  law  as  a  maxim  j  ugood  man,  who  values  the 
moral  law  as  his  fupreme  maxim ; — an  accoinplijhed  man,  wha 
is  both  inclined  and  able  to  communicate  his  agreeable  feelings 
to  others  ; — a  man  of  good  morals^  whofe  anions  correfpond 
with  the  moral  law. 

MAT£RIALISiyt 

in  general,  is  the  afiertion,  that  th«  whole  of  worldly  beings 

confift  of  matter  ; — in  particular,  the  ^^c/jo/o^/crt/ mate  rialifm, 

or  the  doftrine,  that  the  perfonality  of  man   can  fubfifl;  only 

tinder  the  condition  of  his  being  the  fame  body  j — the  cofmo-^ 

logical,  that   the  esfiftence  and  prefence  of  the  world  can  be 

owing  to   other  circumftances,   than  to   that  of  its  being  in 

Space. 

Matter, 

j)  as  oppofed  toform^is  the  given,  perceived  thing  in  general ; 
^hat,  which  is  determinable  j  the  correlate  of  the  determina- 

«i(3n: 


x68  GLOSSARY. 

tibn :  2)  in  pppofition  to  mind,  i.  e.  an  objed  of  the  internal 
feufe,  matter  is  that,  which  is  determined  bj  the  form  of  ex-- 

teraal  perception  ;   the  fubflance  of  bodies. 

♦■ 

Maxims       " 

are  fubjeftive  principles  of  Reafon,  relative  to  free  a£bions  ;. 
whereas. /a:u'j  are  the  neceflary  objedtive  rules,  which  applj 
with  equal  force  to  pvcry  individual,  whether  morally  difpo- 
•fed  to  obey  them,  or  not. 

Mechanically 

1)  in  general,  is  all  that,  which  neceflarily  happens  in  tiqje, 
according  to  the  law  of  caufality  ;  2)  in  particular,  the  effefl, 
which  bodies  in  naotion  produce  upon  one  another  by  the  com- 
munication of  their  motion  (not  by  their  internal  powers,*as 
in  the  chemical  eiFeOis  tf  bodies),  v.  g.  mechanical  feparation 
ty  the  wedge. 

Mechanism  of  Nature 
13  the  necelTary  confequence  of  events  in  time,  according  to  the 
rfatural  law  of  caufality. 

Metaphysics 

I,  as  defined  by  Baumgarten,  is  the  fcience  treating  of  the 
firft  principles  of  human  knowledge  ;  It  has  no  fixed  limits, 
by  which  it  is  feparated  from  other  fciences  : 
3,  with  Kant  ;  the  whole  fyflem  of  pure  philofophy  ;  the 
philofophy  of  things  that  are  not  the  objeds  of  fenfe  j  or  the 
Science  of  the  hyperphyfical  predicates  of  fenfible  objefts. 

"  Method 

I,  Theoretically,  is  the  mode  of  teaching ;  the  form  of  a 
fcience  ;  that  procefs  of  arranging  the  variety  in  our  cogni- 
tions under  fyftematic  unity,  which  is  guided  and  determined 
hy  rational  principles : 


G  L  O  S  S  A  R  Yi      '  i60 

2,  praBically,  tlie  mode  and  way  of  eftablifhing  genuine  moral 
principles.  The  methodical  doBrine  of  praBical  Reafon  is, 
therefore,  that  part  of  the  *  Critique  of  Reafon,'  which  teaches 
this  method  from  principles. 

The  tranfcendental  doBrine  of  method  is  the  fcience  treating 
if  the  form  of  a  metaphjfical  1  jllem» 

Mmn—^Seele 

lignifies  i)  the  foul  as  phenomenon,  as  the  objeft  of  the  in- 
ternal fenfe,  with  all  the  internal  reflexions  :  it  is  thus  con- 
fidered  ;a  the  experimental  doftrine  of  mind ;  a)  the  tranfcen- 
dental fubjeft  of  thoughts,  which  we  can  reprefent  to  our* 
felves  merely  through  the  confcioufnefs  accompanying  all  our 
teprefentations  ;  3)  in  particular,  this  felf-fame  being,  as  the 
Vital  principle  of  matter; 

Modality  :  See  Judgments. 
'M.OIlVE—Triebfeder :  See  INDUCEMENT. 

Mysticism — Schwdrmerey 
i)  that  oi  fpeculative  Reafon^  is  Plato's  dodrine  of  intelle^lual 
perceptions,  and  the  cognofcible  reality  of  thofe  pretended  in- 
nate conceptions  of  things  beyond  the  world  of  fenfe ;  v.  g.  if 
we  attribute  pofitive  predicates  to  the  Deity,  and  ftill  difputd 
their  borrowed  origin  from  jihendrJiena  : 
i)  that  oi  praBical  Reafon^  is  the  moral  lyftem,  which  does 
not  derive  the  material  ground  of  human  aftions  from  the  world 
of  fenfe,  and  which  confequently  eftablifhes  the  morality  of 
them  upon  fuperfenfible  perceptions.;  v.  g.  if  we  admit  fuch 
divine  laws,  is  differ  from  the  effential  commands  of  Reafbui 

t^ECESSARY :  See  Judgments. 
Necessity — Nothixendiglkeii 
i)  logical f  fornaal ;  the  neceflary  connedion  of  conceptions  irl 

Y  an 


170  GLOSSARY. 

an  apodiftical  Judgment ;  that  neceffity,  according  to   which 
certain  predicates  belong  to  a  certain  conception  :  2)  real^  ma-' 
terial,  phyfical  neceffitj  of  exiftence  ;  the  impoffibilitj  of  non- 
exiftence :  3)  morale  praftical  neceffitj,  which  depends  upon 
praftical  Reafon. 

Negative  :  See  Judgments. 

Notion 

is  a  pure  intelleftual  conception,  which  arifes  from  the  aS  of 
referring  the  form  of  a  judgment  to  an  obje^. — An  original 
(not,  innate)  notion  is  called  a  Category. 

NouMENON — Ding  anjich^ 
an  objeft  or  thing  in  itfelf,  i.  e.  without  or  external  to  the 
mind  in  a  tranfcendental  fenfe  ;  a  thing  exclufive  of  our  repre- 
fentatlon.     It  is   generally  oppofed  to  the  term  *  ^henomenon^ 
or  the  fenfible  reprefentation  of  an  objeft. 

NuMBER—^Zai'/, 

is  the  reprefentation  of  unity,  from  the  foeceffive  addition  of 
One  to  One,  which  is  of  a  fimilar  fpeties.  By  the  idea  *  num- 
her^''  the  Category  of  ^lantity  is  fenfualized,  and  the  pure 
fcheme^of  Quantity,  or  feries  of  time  exhibited. 

Oi&jE  CT — Gegenjland 

of  a  reprefentation,  in  general,  is  the  individual  thing,  to  which 
the  variety  of  given  matter  in  a  reprefentation  is  referred. 

Objective 

iignifies,  in  general,  every  thing  which  has  objeftive  reali^^ 
which  relates  to  an  objeft  of  fenfe  and  experience. 

Obligation — Isbthigung 
is  amoral  and  praftical  determination  of  a  will  governed  by 
rational  motives  ;  or  the  pradical  neceflity   of  volition^  in.  a 

poffiblc 


GLOSSARY.  171 

poffible  contradidion  to  natural  inclinations.  In  a  facred  will, 
therefore,  no  obligation  takes  place. 

Ontology 
i)  as  it  is  .pretended  ;  a  fjftematic  dodrine  of  fynthetical  cog- 
nitions a  priori  of  things  in  general : 

2)  as  it  is  poffible ;  a  complete  analyfis  of  the  pure  Under- 
ftanding,  or  tranfcendental  philofophy,  i.  e.  the  fcience  of  the 
moll  general  conceptions  and  laws  of  all  rational  and  moral 
objefts  coUeftively  confidered  ;— in  oppofition  to  that  part  of 
Metaphyfics,  which  treats  of  the  paitieular  objfidb  of  the  in- 
ternal or  external  fenfe, 

Onto-theoloGT 
is  the  cognition  of  a  Supreme  Being  from  bare  conceptions, 

Orgakon 
i)  in  general,  is  tUe   knowledge  of  thofe  rules,  by  which  a 
fcientific  fyilem  can  be  conllruded  ; 

2)  in  particular,  the  Organon  of  pure  Reafon;  i.  e.  an  Organon 
for  the  purpofes  of  Metaphyfics.  From  the  complete  applica- 
tion ot  the  Organon,  arifes  a  fy  ftem  of  pure  Reafo.i. 

Origin — TJrfprung^ 
thejirji  origin  is  the  derivation  of  an  efFed  from  its  firfl  caufe, 
i.  e.  that  caufe,  which  is  not  again  the  efFed  of  another  caufc 
of  the  fame  kind. 

OKiGimL-LhY—^UrfprUnglichf 
i'.  e.  not  derived  ;  for  inflance,  original   adtion  :  (^See  Causa- 
lity) J  an  original  character,  which   requires  no  derivation, 
no  proof. 

Paralogism 
1^  logical :  a  falfe  conclufion  of  Reafon,  as  to  its  form  .• 
%)  tranfcendental :  when  the  ground   of  the  paralogifm  de- 

y  3*  pends 


i7a  ©  L  O  S  S  A  R  Y. 

pends  upon  the  conftitution  of  the  faculty  of  cognition  itffelf  j 
for  inflance,  in  the  tranfcendental  doftrine  of  mind. 

Particular  :  See  Judgments. 

Pathological 

is  called,  that,  which  depends  upon  the  paflive  part  of  humaij 

nature,  upon  the  fcnfitive  facultj.  It  is  oppofed  to  ^  praBical^^ 

i,  e.  that,  which  depends  upon  the  fiee  aftivitjr  of  Reafon. 

People  of  God 
is  a  people,  that  live,  under  the  government  of  divine  law;s^ 

Perception 

generally  fignifies  the  fame  as  *  intiiitiott ;'  but,  in  particular^ 
it  is  ufed  by  Kant  in  a  more  limited  fenfe,  i.  e.  a  reprefenta* 
tion  accompanied  with  confcioufnefs  or  apperception. 

Permitted— jEr/att5i 

i)  is  that,  which  correfponds  with  a  barely  poflible  praftical 
precept ;  non-permitted^  what  militates  againft  a  problema- 
tical Imperative  :  2)  that,,  which  i^  conliftent  with  a  general 
law  of  morality,  with  the  autononiy  of  the  wiU ;  the  contrary 
is  unp^n^itted.  In  the  former  fignification,  the  non-permitted 
is  diftinguifhed  from  that,  which  is  *  contrary  to  duty^  or 
what  is  again  ft  a  real,  fubfifting  law.  In  the  latter  fenfe,  thefe 
terms  are  equivalent  to  each  other. 

Phenomenon  :  See  Nou.menon. 

Philosopher — Weltweifer^ 

\x\.  idea^  is  he  who  renders  all  cognitions  fubfervient  to  the  ne- 
ceffary  pwrpofes  of  human  Reafon  ;  alegiflator  of  that  faculty  ; 
a  maftcr  in  the  fcience  of  wif(ipqjk. 

To 


GLOSSARY.  137 

To  Philosophize 
pieans  to  exerclfe  one*s  peculiar  talent  in  the  philofophical  ufe 
of  Reifon,  i.  e.  in  the  explanation  of  that,  which  is  explicable. 

Physico-Theology 
or  rather  phyfico-teleologlcal  theology,  is  the  cognition  of  the 
Deity,  as  being  the  author  of  that  order  and  perfe£tion  in  the 
aatural  world  of  fenfe,  which  is  every  where  difcoverable. 

Phoronomt 
h  the  pure  dodlrine  of  th^  magnitude  of  motion. 

Possibility — M'dgUchkeit 

^)  the  form  of  a  problematical  judgment ;  the  conceivable  con-* 
»e£lion  of  two  conceptions  :  2,)  the  correfponding  pure  Cate- 
gory y  i.  e.  the  reference  of  a  form  of  thought  in  a  problema- 
tical  judgment,  to  perceptions  in  general,  to  an  obje£l :  3)  thq 
application  of  this  Category  to  fenfible  perceptions ;  the  a- 
greement  of  a  conception  with  the  general  form  of  fenfible 
perceptions  of  time. — rimpoflibilitj,  therefore,  fignifics  the 
difagreement,  the  inconfiflency  with  this  form. 

Practical 
is  that,  which  depends  on  freedom,  on  the  felf-a£live  faculty 
of  defiring  ;  which  relates  to  that  faculty  as  the  ground,  cout 
fequence,  gtc. ;  for  inflance,  practical  cognition,  laws,  princi- 
ples, philofophy. 

Pragmatical 

^s  that,  which  is  defigned  for  the  promotion  of  general  profpe- 
Tity. 

Praying — Betettt 
is  a  mere  declaration  of  wilhes  towards  the  Divine  'Berng  ;  a 
Being,  that   ftands  in  need  of  no  explanation  of  the  internal 
fentiment  of  the  wiihing  perfonv— Praying  confidered  as  the 


X74  GLOSSARY. 

means  of  producing  efFefts  upon  God,  is  fuperllition.  In  or- 
der to  improve  ourfelves,  and  to  enliven  our  moral  fentiment, 
it  is  one  of  the  moll  falutarjr,  but  by  no  means  gcnerallj  ne- 
ceflary  means. 

Precept — Vorjchrift 

means  a  praftical  rule,  in  the  moll  extenlive  fenfe,  whether  it 
have  an  abfolute  (lawful)  or  only  a  comparative  unix'erfality. 

Principle — Grutidfotz 
is  every  general  cognition,  from  which  others  may  be  con» 
ilflently  derived  and  conceived. 

Problematical  :  See  Judgments. 

Proofs — Beweife 

i)  in  general,  are  obje6live  grounds  of  convidlion.  To  prove 
fomething,  is  to  deraonftrate  it  fufficiently  from  objedive,  lo- 
gical reafons,  to  convince,  or  at  leail,  to  prepare  the  mind  for 
convi6lion,  and  not  merely  to  perfuade,  i.  e.  to  caufe  or  pro- 
duce our  apptofaation  from  fubjeftive  (aellhetical)  grounds  of 
determination  :  2)  in  particular  ;  proofs  are  either  empirical^ 
from  real  experience  ;  or  a  priori^  from  Reafon  and  independ- 
ent of  all  matter  gf  experience. 

Psychology, 

is  the  doclrine  of  mind  ;  the  phyfiology  of  the  internal  fenfe, 
^nd  a  part  of  phyfics  in  general. 

Pure — rein :  See  a  priori. 

P  URPOSE— Ztr^fi , 
in  general,  is  the  conception  of  an  obje£l,  fo  far  as  it  contains, 
at  the  fame  time,  the  ground  of  the  reality  of  this   objed.— * 
A  purpofe  is  faid  to  be  hypotheticalj  vi^hen  it  prcfents  itfelf  as 

the 


GLOSSARY.  irS 

the  means  of  attaining  fome  other  objea  ;  categorical,  when  it 
exhibits  itfelf  as  final  purpofe  in  the  oppofite  cafe. — Purpoje  of 
Nature  is  the  exhibition  of  the  idea  of  a  real,  objeaive  con- 
formity in  nature.  A  thing  exifts  as  a  purpofe  of  nature, 
when  it  is  of  itfelf  both  caufe  and  effea. 

The  fcience  or  philofophy  of  all  purpofes  is  called  Teleology, 


JSe 

FY,  J 


QUAUTY, 

'See  Judgments. 
Quantity, 


Reality — WirkUchkeit 
is  real,  not  merely  ideal  exigence  ;  and  tliis  is  conceived  i) 
purcy  through  that  Category,  which  is  founded  upon  the  form 
of  affertory  judgments  :  %)  fenfualized ;  i.  e.  the  ciicumftance 
of  being  in  a  determined  time. 

Reason — Vernunft 

A)  generally  implies  the  whole,  fupreme,  felf-aaive  faculty  of 
cognition,  in  contradiftinaion  to  the  low,  merely  paflive,  fa- 
culty of  the  fenfes  j  and,  in  this  view,  the  Underflanding  is 
like  wife  comprehended  under  it.  Hence  the  whole  faculty  of 
cognitions  a  priori  is  called  pure  Reafon  ;  which  is  divided 
into  the  faculty  of  forming  conceptions,  i.  e.  the  Underfland- 
ing ;  and  into  the  faculty  of  forming  conclufions,  i.  e.  Reafon 
in  a  more  limited  fenfe. 

B)  in  particular  :  the  power  of  conceiving  fomething  from 
^principles  ;  of  apprehending  the  particular  from  the  general ; 

of  reducing  the  unity  of  the  rules  of  the  Undcrllanding  to 
principles ;  of  clafling  particular  conceptions  under  thofe,  which 
are  general  ;  and  finally,  of  exerting  the  higheft  degree  of  ac- 
tivity in  the  free  operating  faculty  of  cognition. — Thus  de- 
fined, Reafon  is  not  only  diftinguiQicd  from  the  Senfitive  Fa- 
culty, but  likewife  from  the  Underftanding  in  a  more  limited 
fenfe. 

Re- 


f  7^  GL6SSARY; 

Receptivity, 
the  fufceptibility  of  impreffions  ;  the   power  of  receiving  tf^* 
prefentations  ;  of  being  afFe£led  by  objedls  ;  thcpajjive  faculty 
of  reprefentation ;  fenfibility.     Thisj  combined  with   fponta- 
neity,  foims  the  fubftance  of  the  reprefenting  power  of  man. 

i)  logical  \  the  comparifon  made  between  exifling  conceptionaT 
in  general :  i)  tranfcendental  refleBionj  the  mode  of  compa- 
ring reprefentations  with  refpeft  to  the  faculty  of  cognition,  in 
which  they  are  compared  j  the  a£l  of  reflecting  upon  the  man- 
ner, how  and  by  what  fubjedlive  conditions  (Hates  of  mind) 
we  atrive  at  certain  conceptions  and  judgments,  whether 
through  inclination  and  cuftom,  through  the  Senfitive  Faculty,- 
the  Underllanding,  or  through  Reafon. 

Regulative  principles  :  See  Ck)NsTiTuTiVB* 

Relation  :  See  Judgments. 
ReIigion 

1 )  fuhJeBively  c6nfidered,  is  the  reprefentation  ot  the  eftentlal 
laws  of  Reafon,  as  the  refult  of  divine  commands  and  of  vir- 
tue ;  tKe  coincidence  of  the  will  of  a  finite  being  with  that  of 
a  facred  and  beneficent  author  of  the  world,  who  has  both, 
the  will  and  power  of  Realizing  the  mofl  exaft  proportion  be- 
tween the  happinefs  and  the  moral  condud  of  man.  All  Re- 
ligion is  founded  upon  morals.  The  Science  of  Religion  is^ 
therefore,  called  Moral  Theology : 

a)  ohjeBively  confidered,  it  is  the  whole  compafs  of  thofe  doc-i- 
trines,  which  relate  to  the  fubjeflive  Religion. 

Representation — Vorjlellung 
is  an  internal  determination,  a  modification  of  the  mind.     It  is 
converted  into  a  cognition,  as  foon  as  it  is  referred  to  an  obje^?. 


GLOSSARY,  177 

Rule — Rege! 
is  a  conception  or  a  judgment,  fo  far  as  the  connexion  of  a 
variety  is  fabje6ted  to  a  general  coadition.— As  to  their  va- 
lidity. Rules  are  either  univer/al,  which  are  neceffarilj  valid, 
and  admit  of  no  exception  ,  for  inftance,  the  moral  law,  and 
all  the  rules  a  priori  :  or  they  are  general,  when  we  frequent- 
ly obferve  them  to  be  advantageous  and  applicable  to  the  pur- 
pofes  of  life  :  fuch  are,  for  inftance,  the  rules  of  prudence. 

Sati^f  ACT  wa—f-Wohlge/allen 
is  the  correfponding  relation  of  an  objed  to  the  fenfe  of  feeU 
J!jg,  or  to  the  fubjed  itfelf, 

ScEPTlCISlVf 

of  pure  Reafon,  is  the  opinion,  that  we  can  form  no  decifion 
upon  the  exiflence  and  non-exiftence  of  fuperfeufible  things 
and  their  properties,  without  pointing  out  with  accuracy  the 
grounds  of  this  irapoflibility,  which  lie  in  ^he  cognitive  facul* 
ty  itfelf. 

SCHEVLA 

1)  is  the  general  determination  of  a  perception  according  to 
general  ideas  ;  for  inftance,  the  fenfible  reprel'entation  of  a 
man,  a  horfe,  a  houfe  in  general.  It  muft,  therefore,  not  be 
confounded  with  a  *  pifture,'  i.  e.  an  example  in  concreto, 
V.  g.  that  of  an  individual  or  particular  man,  horfe,  houfe,  &.c, 

2)  the  tranfcendental  fchema  of  a  pure  intelleftual  not  on,  is 
the  pure  and  general  fenfualization  of  fuch  a  notion  q.  priori  \ 
the  fenfible  condition,  under  which  the  pure  notions  of  the  in- 

telleft   are   ufcd  ;  i.  e.  objedls  can  be  clafled  under  it The 

regular  fucceflion  of  variety  is  apriori  the  .fchema  of  cau- 
fality  ;  number  in  general  is  the  fchema  of  quantity  ;  where- 
as an  individual  number,  as  that  of  5,  15,  &c.  is  merely  the 
pidurc  of  it. 


Leno 


1^8  G  L  O  S  S  A  R  Y, 

Sensation — Empjindting 

is  feafible  reprefentation,  impreffion  of  an  adlually  piefent  ob- 
jcdl  upon  the  mind,  modification  of  the  Senfitive  Faculty, 

Sense,  or  Sensitive  Faculty — Sinnlichkeity 
according  to  Kant,  is  that  faculty  of  the  min(^  which  is  liable 
to  be  modified  and  affe6ted  by  things,  and  thereby  to  receive 
imprefiions  or  feprefentations  of  things.  It  is,  therefore,  nei- 
ther a  bare  modification  of  the  Underftanding,  as  with  Leib- 
nitz, nor  a  mere  a£tivity  or  excitement  of  the  corporeal 
organs,  the  peculiar  exiftence  of  which,  if  it  is  to  become  an 
objeft  of  cognition,  rather  prefuppofes  a  receptivity  in  the 
mind  itfelf. 

The  *  pure  Senfitive  Faculty  a  priori^  implies  the  faculty  in 
itfelf;  that,  which  belongs  to  it  as  a  power  of  fufceptibility  a 
priori,  which  is  not  firft  determined  by  the  fenfiblc  impref-* 
fions*  but  which  rather  determines  the  latter  themfelves,  ac- 
cording to  Space  and  Time ;  it  is  the  fubjeftive  condition  of 
all  that,  which  receives  by  it  (namely  the  Senfitivfc  Faculty  ^ 
priori)  the  character  of  reality. 

Sensibility — Enipfindlarhit 

is  fometimes,  though  rarely,  ufed  in  thefe  *  Elements'  inflead 
of  fenfation  ;  it  exprefles  ra^er  the  capacity  of  receiving  fen-^ 
fible  impreffions. 

Sensible  and  Sensitive 
muft  not  be  confounded  with  one   another,  as  the  former  \\ 
andogous  to  fenfibility,  the  latter  to  fenfation,  • 

Simultaneity — Zuglekhseyn, 
is  the  exiftence  of  a  variety  or  the  multifarious,  at  one  and  the 
fame  time. 

Space — Raum 
is  the  intuitive   reprefentation  of  things    bein^  without  and 
u?ar  one  another,  and  of  extenfxon  in  general, 

SPONr 


GLOSSARY;  179 

Spontaneity 

1)  in  general,  is  felf-aftive,  unconditionate  caufality ; 

2)  in  particular,  the  fpontaneity  of  the  reprefenting  faculty 
tonfifts  in  the  adivity  or  operation  of  the  reprefenting  fubjeft 
upon  the  impreflions  received.  The  reprefenting  faculty  is 
called,  Underftanding,  Reafon  in  the  ihoft  extenfive  fenfe,  fo 
far  only,  as  it  is  felf-a6live  and  apprehends  the  impreflions  re* 
ceived,  conne£ls  them  into  a  wholcj  and  has  the  power  of  re- 
producing them. 

SpURidUS  woRSHtP — Afterdlenfi 
<  is  fuch  a  fanciful  veneration  of  the   Deity,  as   is  contrary  to 
that  true  fervice,  which  he  himfelf  requires  ;  v.  g.  by  penance, 
mortification,  pilgrimage,  &.c. 

Subject 
1)  logical ;  that  in  gieneral,  in  which  certain  predicates  are  in- 
herent :   2)  the  tranfcendental  fubjeft  in  particular,  the  repre- 
fenting, thinking  being  in  relation  to  its  own  thoughts  :  3)  the 
real  fubje6V,  fubflance. 

Subjective, 

as  oppofed  to  obJeSiivCy  lignifies  i)  that,  which  belongs  to  the 
fubjeft,  i.  e.  all  reprefentations  :  a)  that,  which  in  part  at 
leafl  is  determined  by  the  nature  of  the  fubjeft.  This  is  like- 
vife  the  cafe  in  all  our  reprefentations  :  3)  that,  which  relates 
to  no  obje£l  correfponding  with  the  reprefentation  ;  thofe  con- 
ceptions and  judgments,  that  cannot  be  exhibited  in  percep- 
tion, as  the  Deity,  Liberty,  Immortality :  4)  in  a  praBical 
fenfe,  fuch  practical  principles  (maxims),  which  are  not  imme- 
diately founded  upon  Reafon  itfelf,  but  upon  the  particular 
conftitution  of  the  ading  fubjeft,  upon  thefenfible  impulfe  and 
inclinations  of  it. 

Substance 
1)  according  to  the  pure  Category ,  a  fubjefit  in  a  categorical 

'  -     Z  2  judgment 


i8o  GLOSSARY. 

judgment ;  all  that,  which  is  not  confidered  as  predicate  of 
fomething  elfe  :  in  this  fenfe  the  mind  itfelf  is  called  lub- 
ftance  :  a)  fenfualixed  ;  fubftance  in  a  phrnomenon,  the  con- 
tinuance, perdurability  in  a  perceived  object,  which  exifts  at 
all  times  ;  that,  which  contains  the  ground  of  reality  in  the 
accideiis,  v.  g  matter  is  the  fubftance  of  all  external  obje£ls, 
without  which  no  obje£l  could  be  conceived  in  Space  :  3) 
Suhjiance  in  itfelf ^  external  to  the  phenomenon  ;  it  is  that  un- 
known fomething,  by  which  the  diiFerent  fenfations  are  pro- 
duced, and  ueceffarilj  cbnnedted  with  one  another  in  a  pheno- 
inen(^. 

StlBSTRATUM. 

The  fuperfenftble  fubjiratum  of  nature  is  that  objeft,  of 
which  we  can  determine  nothing  in  an  affirmative  fenfe,  fave 
that  it  is  a  being  in  itfelf,  of  which  we  know  mcrdy  the  phe- 
nomenon. 

Stnthesis 

1)  in  general,  is  the  compofitlon  or  combination  of  varioiis 
reprefentations  (whether  intuitions  or  conceptions)  into  one' 
cognition,  which  may  be  conception,  judgment,  &c.  2)  in  par-" 
ticular:  a)  pure  tranfcendental  fynthefis  a  priori,  is  the  a61:  of 
combining  the  variety  of  Space  and  Time  into  One  repre- 
fcntation  of  Space  and  Time.  This  lies  at  the  foundation  of 
pure  Mathematics  • — b).f7?//!iVv«/ fyn;hefis,  when  any  expe- 
rimental varieties^  i.  e.  fenfations,  are  connefted  into  unity, 
Eachof  thefe  fpecics  confifts  6f  three  varieties,  namely, 

i)  the  fynthefis  oi  apprehenfloti,  when  the  afFedlions  of  our  in- 
ternal and  external  fenfe  are  apprehended  and  arranged ; 

2)  the  fjnthefis  of  reproduSiion  when  that,  which  has  been 
colle£led  and  conneded,  is  reproduced  by  the  power  of  ima- 
ginationy  in  order  that  the  preceding  affeftions  may  be  an-' 
nexed  to  thofe  immediately  fucceeding  ;  and 

3)  the  fynthefis  of  recognition^  which  forms  One  Intuition  of 
what  has  bsea  apprehended  and  coniiedi^. 

StsteiiI^ 


GLOSSARY.  i8i 

Ststem 
is  a  whole,  which  is  connefted  bj  one  principle,  and  therefore 
has  neceflary  unitj.  It  is  oppofed  to  *  aggregate^*  i.  e.  a  whole^ 
which  owes  its  origin  to  the  occafional  or  accidental  addition 
of  one  part  to  another,  and  confequently  has  not  the  charader 
of  neceflary  completenefs. 

Technic 
l)  in  a  proper  fenfe,  means  Art.  caufality  according  to  ideas^ 
purpofes  :  a)  in  a  general  fenfe,  the  technic  ofnaturey  the  cau-^ 
fality  of  nature  in  relation  to  thofe  produftions,  which  cor- 
refpond  with  our  conceptions  of  a  purpofe  \  in  oppofition  to 
*  mechanifmy  i.  e.  the  determination  of  caufes  according  to  the 
laws  of  motion. 

Teleology  :  See  Purpose. 

Theology:  See  Religion. 

Theosophy 
fignifies  that  theoretical  cognition  of  the  divine  nature  and  ex- 
iftence,  which    fatisfaftoiily  explains  the   conftitution  of  th6 
world,  as  well  as  the  moral  laws. 

Thing  in  itself  :  See  Noumenon. 

Time— ZrtV 

is,  according  to  Kant,  the  original  perceptive  reprefentation  of 
the  poffibilitj  of  fimultaneity  and  fucceffion. 

Totality — Allheitt 

the  reprefentation  of  the  whole,  (univerfitas^;  that  funftion 
of  the  Underllanding,  by  which,  when  it  is  applied  to  con- 
ceptions, a  plurality  of  cognit'ons  is  comprehended  and  con- 
neded  into  a  general  one ;  when  applied  to  perceptions,  To- 

tolitj 


484  GLOSSARY. 

talitj  is  nothing  elfe  than  plurality  confidered  in   things  a9 
unitj,  and  forms  a  fpecies  of  a  Category,  vii.  that  of  Quantity; 

Transcendent — UberfchwengUch  :  See  Immanent. 

TrANSCENDENTALj 
in  a  general  fenfe,  fignifies  a  reprefentation  (whether  percep- 
tion or  conception),  a  judgment,  a  fcience  a  priori,  fo  far  as  it 
ilill  refers  to  objefts,  and  may  be  applied  to  them.  For  in- 
ilance,  it  is  a  tranfcendental  cognition,  that  Space  is  a  percep- 
tion a  priori,  and  yet  is  applicable  to  fenfible  objedls.  The 
tranfcendental  is  oppofed  to  the  empirical,  which  latter  not  only 
relates  to,  but  likewife  arifes  from,  experience. 

'tvJJTU.-^Wahrheii 
is  the  igreeifaent  or  coincidence  of  oilr  tfognition,  i)  with 
itfelf,  i.  e.  its  own  charafters^  and  with  the  general  tules  of 
thought :  a)  with  its  objefts ;  and  hence  material,  pofitive, 
bhjeBive,  real,  fytithetical  truth,  reality.  It  requires,  that  the 
objeft  be  given  ;  the  principle  of  contradidion  is  only  a  ne- 
gative criterion  of  truthi 

Unconditional  or  Unconditionate — Uhhedingt, 

that,  which  is  abfolutely  and  in  itfelf,  i.  e.  internally  poffiblcj 
which  is  exempt  from  thofe  conditions,  that  circumfcribe  a 
thing  in  Time  and  Space.  Such  is  the  idea  of  human  Reafon 
in  the  moft  extenfive  fenfe,  as  it  is  capable  of  continual  ini- 
provement,  which,  although  it  cannot  be  realized  in  experience, 
is  unlimited  ;  the  fpbere  of  the  objedts  of  cognition  being 
boundlefs.  And  this  circumllance  ought  not  tc  deter^  but  ra- 
ther to  encourage  us  in  our  exertions  for  the  attainment  of 
knowledge,  which  may  be  carried  on  in  indeJiniiu/n.—^Cova.- 
|)ar«  this  Article  with  the  terra  *  CowpiTIONAL.* 

Under- 


' ,      GLOSSARY.  183 

UNDERSTANDING-r:/^rj;fl«^ 

i)  in  thei  moft  extenfive  fenfe,  is  the  felf-a£live  facultj  of  cog- 
nition (^fpontaneitj),  or  the  faculty  of  producing  reprefenta- 
tions,  of  uniting  the  reprefentations  given  or  perceived,  of 
thinking  and  judging  upon  objefts  : 

7t)  in  particular  ;  the  faculty  of  forming  conceptions  and  judg- 
ments of  objefts  perceived  ;  the  faculty  of  acquiiing  experi- 
n^ental  cognitions,  i.  e.  of  forming  rules,  as  oppofed  to  laws. 
In  this  fenf«,  the  Underftanding  is  4iftinguifti'-'d  ffom  Reafon 
in  a  more  limited  fignificat;on. 

The  Win. 

1)  In  general,  is  the  arbitrary  determination,  the  caufality  of 
a  living  being,  the  power  of  producing  objefts  correfponding 
with  conceptions,  or  at  leafl  of  determining  onefelf  as  to  the 
attainment  of  them  ;  an  appetitive  faculty  in  general ; 

2)  in  particular,  the  caufality  of  Reafon  with  refpedt  o  its 
adions,  pradical  Reafon  and  Liberty  ;  a  faculty  of  afting  con- 
formably to  principles,  i.  e.  to  the  reprefentation  of  laws— to 
produce  fomething,  that  correfponds  with  an  idea  or  purpofe. 

Wisdom — Weisheit 

ijs  the  idea  of  the  neceflary  unity  of  all  poffible   purpofes.     It  . 
is  therefore  i )  theoretically  confidered,  the   cognition  of  the 
higheft  good:  z) pra&ically  :  an  attribute  of  that  will,  whlcl|. 
Realizes  the  higheft  good,  or  at  leaft  exerts  itfelf  for  that  pur- 
pofe. 


^  I  N  I  S. 


THREE 

PHILOLOGICAL  ESSAYS, 

CHIEFLY  TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  GERMAN 

OF 

JOHN  CHRISTOPHER  JDELUNGySco 


ESSAYFIRST. 


A  concife  hiftory  cf  the  Englijh  Language,  'zs'c. 

J  HE  hiftory  of  the  Englifli  Language  begins  with  the  An" 
glo-Sayons  ;  for,  though  the  old  B*'itons,  the  Anceflors  of  the 
modern  Weljh,  were  the  firll  inhabitants  of  tliis  country,  yet, 
with  refpedl  to  its  language,  they  form  no  epoch  in  the  hiftory 
of  it ;  as__there  are  but  a  very  fmall  number  of  words,  which 
can  be  derived,  with  certainty  and  juft  etymology,  from  Britifh 
roots. 

It  is,  indeed,  not  very  probable  that  the  Anglo-Saxons,  with 
their  irruption  into  a  new  country,  Ihould  have  deftroyed,  or 
expelled,  all  the  former  inhabitants  of  it;  and  it  is  more  rea- 
fonable  to  fuppofe,  that  befides  thofe,  who  fled  to  the  moun- 
tains of  Wales,  there  muft  ftill  have  remained  behind  a  very 
confiderable  part  of  the  nation,  bat  who,  according  to  the  bar- 
barous cuftom  prevailing  in  thofe  times,  were  reduced  to  a 
fpecies  of  ilavery,  were  obliged  to  cultivate  the  fields  of  their 
mafters,  and  were  gradually  compelled,  however  unwilling,  to 
adopt  the  language  of  their  conquerors. 

Thus,  the  ancient  tongue  of  the  Britons,  was  completely 
eradicated  ;  if  we  except  a  few  fingle  words,  which  have  ft,ill 
remained  current  among  country-people. — Similar  phenomena 
have  occurred  in  Germany,  and  frequently  too,  in  other  coun- 
tries.When  the  Sclavi  and  theVandals  made  themfelves  mafters 
of  the  Eaftern  part  of  Germany,  the/  did  not  deftroy  all  thr 
native  Germans  ;  but  they  fubjugated  and  forced  them  to  a- 
dopt  their  language.  Heiice,  in  Bohemia,  there  is  fcarcely  any 
trace  left  of  the  ancient  language  of  the  country.  When  the 
Germans,  in  fucceeding  ages,  reconquered  many  of  thefe  pro- 
vinces, and  united  them  into  a  political  body,  they  proceeded 
in  a  fimilar  manner ;  and  it  is  now  very  difficult  to  dcte£l  any 
vcftiges  of  the  ancient  language  of  the  Vandals,  among  the 
country-people  of  thefe  provinces. 

The  Anglo-Saxons,  who  began  their  Irruptions  into  Britain 
about  the  year  450,  came  from  the  modern  Frifia  :  hence  their 
language  bears  a  clofcr  relation  to  the  Frijian,  than  to  any  o- 
ther.     It  is,  however,  to  be  much  regretted,  that  the  latter  has 

»  not 


vi  THREE   PHILOLOGICAL 

not  been- more  accurately  inveftigated  hitherto  by.  any  philo- 
logift  ;  for  it  certainly  might  be  of  great  advantage  for  the  il- 
luflration  of  the  ancient  Anglo-Saxon. 

The  hiflory  of  the  Englifh  language,  from  the  lirfl  inroads 
of  the  Anglo-Saxons,  down  to  the  prefent  time,  comprehends  a 
period  of  nearly  fourteen  centuries.  As  the  nati6nj  during 
this  long  period,  has  undergone  various  great  changes  and 
commotions,  which  were  necelTarily  attended  with  relative  in- 
fluence upon  the  language,  it  becomes  therefore  neceffary  to 
divide  it  into  ceitain  periodical  Se6lions,  correfponding  with 
thefe  changes.  I  propofe  to  adopt  this  method ;  although 
Johnson,  my  predeceffor,  has  contented  himfelf  with  giving 
promifcuous  fpecimens  of  language,  as  prefixed  to  his  large 
Dictionary,  in  chronological  order,  without  however  attempt- 
ing a  true  hiftorical  divifion. 

The  principal  changes,  which,  pofterior  to  the  Anglo-Sax- 
ons, aifecled  the  Englifh  language,  were,  the  incurfions  of  the 
Danes  ;  the  invafion  of  the  Normans  ;  and  the  adoption  of 
French  phrafes  and  terms,  together  with  the  improvements 
and  manners  of  that  people.  Thefe  collectively  fuggpft  to  us 
four  periods,  in  tracing  the  hiftory  of  the  Englifh  .  language  : 
viz.  ift,  the  pure  Anglo-Saxon,  or  the  Britiih-Saxon  period  ; 
id.  the  Danijh  Saxony  ov  Danilh  Anglo-Saxon  ;  3d.  the  Norr- 
mannic-SaxoTiy  or  the  Normannic  Danifb-Saxon  ;  and  4th,  the 
Frcjich'Saxon,  or  the  Normannic  French-Saxon  period,  in 
which  laft  the  language  gradually  alTumed  the  form  of  the 
modern  Englifh, 

I.  British-Saxon  Period. 

This  period  begins  with  the  firft  invafion  of  the  Anglo.--, 
$axons,  in  the  year  450  ;  it  terminates  with  the  incvirfions  of 
the  Danes,  about  the  year  780,  and  confequently  comprehends 
aa  era  of  330  years. — It  correfgcnds  with  that  period  in  the 
hiflory  of  the  German  language,  which  extends  from  the  emi- 
gration of  the  Eaflern  nations,  to  the  reign  of  Charlemagne  ; 
and  with  refpect  to  the  ftate  of  improvement  during  this  pe- 
riod, botli  languages  perfeftly  rcfemble  one  another. 

Th&  Anglo-Saxons  vitre  a  rude,  untutored  people,  not  unlike 
all  the  German  and  Northern  nations  of  that  age,  whofe  prin- 
cipal improvements  related  to  the  art  of  war.     People  of  this 


ESSAYS,   BY    ADELUNG.  y'd 

defcrlptlori  do  not  (land  in  need  of  letters,  or  a  -written  lan- 
guage ;  and  it  is  very  probable,  that  thej  neither  had,  nor 
knew,  the  alphabet.  The  increafe  of  population,  in  a  limited 
territory,  compelled  them,  indeed, eaily  to  accuftom  themfelves 
to  order  and  a  more  rigid  civil  conilitution  ;  but  as  they  were 
employed,  for  a  confiderable  time,  in  combating  the  natives 
of  conquered  coimtries,  this  faint  improvement  was  chiefly, 
and  proximately,  deiigned  for  warlike  purfuits._ 

A  more  remarkable  degree  of  improvement  was  manifeft 
among  the  Anglo-Saxons  about  the  year  570,  when  St  Au- 
gustine arrived  from  Rome,  and  inftrucled  them  in  the  be- 
neficent principles  of  thfe  Chriftian  Religion.  Thefe  were  the 
more  eagerly  embraced,  as  the  progrefs  of  the  mind,  though 
hitherto  fmall  and  partial,  enabled  them  to  perceive  the  ne- 
ceffity  of  abolifhing  that  rude  and  undigelled  veneration  for 
their  idols,  which  were  calculated  only  to  amufe  the  fancy  of 
a  barbarous  and  unfettled  people. 

Together  with  the  Chriftian  Religion,  the  Anglo-Saxons 
alfo  acquired  the  firft  rudiments  of  the  arts  and  fciences,  and 
a  tafte  for  the  literature  of  ancient  Rome,  which  very  rapid- 
ly fpread  among  them.  This  may  be  eafily  accounted  for,  as 
it  was  chiefly  promoted  by  the  continual  increafe  of  a  numer- 
ous people,  who  had  eftablilhed  themfelves  upon  a  limited  ter- 
ritory. Thus  prepared,  they  likewife  adopted  the  Roman 
alphabet,  which  had  already  been  introduced  as  the  current 
fmall  letter  in  their  writings.  But  as  they  were  accuftomed 
to  2L  found  in  their  language,  which  was  expreffed  with  a  bif- 
fing tone,  fomewhat  fimilar  to  both  t  and  j,  and  which  was 
foreign  to  the  Romans,  who  had  no  charafter  for  it  in  their 
alphabet ;  hence  the  Anglo-Saxon  teachers  of  Religion  were 
obliged  to  borrow  the  0  (theta)  from  the  Greek,  which 
therefore  fupplied  the  place  of  the  modern,  Englifli  th.  The 
other  Anglo-Saxon  charafters  are  perfeftly  fipiilar  to  the  Ro- 
man current  letters  of  thofe  times,  and  particularly  of  the  fixth 
Century  ;  and  the  w  of  the  former  is  clofely  imitated  from  a, 
compounded  v  of  the  latter. 

If  full  credit  be  due  to  Warton,  there  is  no  frag- 
ment extant  from  this  period,  but  a  fmall'  metric  compofition 
oi  the  genuine  Caedmon,  which  is  infcrted  in  Alfred's  tranf- 

lation  of  the  Ecclefiaftic   Hiftory,  by  Bede  * As  the  only, 

a  2  and 

*  Vol.  IV'  Chap.  24.  (riof  Chap.  4.  a»  quoted  by  Warton). 


VUl 


THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 


and  certainly  a  venerable  piece  of  curiofity  left  of  thefe  re- 
mote ages,  it  well  deferves  a  place  in  this  period  of  the  Britifli 
language.  It  is  here  offered  in  two  different  copies.  One  of 
them  is  tranfcribed  from  HiCKEs's  Grammat.  Antrlo-Saxon. 
p.  187;  the  other  ftill  more  ancient,  is  extracted  from  Wan- 
ley's  Antiq.  Litcrat.  Septentr.  Part  II.  p.  287 — -I  have  inet 
with  a  third  Copy  of  this  fragment  in"  Whelock's  Anglo- 
Saxoji  Bede  ;  Cambrulge,i6j[^  ;  but  the  text  in  this  differs  from 
both  the  former,  and  does  not  appear  to  me  equally  authentic. 


H  I  c  K  E  s. 

*'  Nu  we  fceolon  hcrigean 
Heofon  rices  weard 
Metodes  mihte. 
And  his  mod  gethanc. 
Weorc  wuldor  faeder 
Suua  he  wundra  gehwaes. 

Ece  drihten  ord  pnfteald. 
He  aerefl  fcop 
Eordan  bearnura 
Heofan  to  rofc 
Halig  fcippend. 

Da  mlddangeard 
Moncynnes  weard 
Ece  tlrihte  aefter  teode. 
Firum  fold  an. 
Frea  aelmihtig." 

Englijh, 

"  Now  we  ought  to  praife  the 
author  of  the  celeftial  empire, 
the  might  of  tlie  creator,  and 
his  counfeh,  the  deeds  of  the 
father  of  honour  ;  how  he  be- 
came the  author  of  wonders. 

And  when  the  eternal  God 
firfl  created  heaven  as  the  roof 
for  the  children  of  man,  and  af- 
terwards the  earth,  being  an 
omnipotent  guardian  of  the  hu- 
man race." 


W  AN  L  E  Y. 

"  Nu  fcylun  hergan 
Hefaen  ricaes  uard 
Metudaes  maefti 
End  his  mod  gidanc 
Verc  uuldur  fadur 
Sue  he  uundrj  gihuaes. 

Eci  d  11(51  in 
Ora  ftelidae. 
He  aerill  fcopa 
Elda  barnum 
Heben  til  hrofc 
Halcg  fcepen, 

Tha  middun  geard 
Moncynnaes  uard 
Ecy  drySin 
Aefter  tiadae 
Firum  foldu 
Frca  almedlig. 

German.  ■ 

•'  Nun  follen  wir  prcifen,  den 
Urheber  des  Himmelrelches,  die 
Macht  des  Schopfers,  and  feinen 
Rath,  die  Thaten  des  Vaters  der 
Ehre  ;  wie  er  der  Urheber  der 
Wunder  ward. 

Und  als  der  ewige  Gott  den 
Menfchenkindern  zuerft  den 
Himmel  zum  Dache,  und  her- 
nach  als  allmuchtiger  Hiiter  des 
menfchlichen  Gefchleciits  die 
Erdc  fchuf. 

Although 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNa  > 

Although  Caedmon  is  faid  to  have  miraculouflj  compofed 
this  Song,  when  dreaming  ;  it  neverthelefs  appears  tQ  be  a 
tranflation  from  the  Latin,  which  then,  and  for  feveral  fuc- 
ceeding  centiiriesy  was  rendered  fo  very  literally,  that  even 
the  article  was  left  out,  and  the  whole  conftruclion  of  the  La- 
tin with  the  participles  and  ihany  other  peculiarities  were  ri- 
goroufly  obferved.  It  is  for  this  reafon,  we  ought  not  to  judge 
x>f  the  fpirit  of  a  language  from  the  like  tranflations  ;  and  the 
want  of  rhymes  is  very  probably  owing  to  the  fame  caufe. 


II.  Danish  Saxon-Period. 

(or,  IDaniJh  Atiglo-Saxon.y 

This  period  begins  from  the  incurlions  of  the  Danes,  about 
the  year  780,  and  continues  as  far  as  the  invafion  of  the  Nor- 
mans m  1 066  ;  it  confequently  includes  nearly  three  centuries. 
Two  circumftanccs  co-operated  here,  which  produced  remar- 
kable changes  in  the  Old  Saxon  language ;  namely  firil,  the 
domeftic  improvements  of  the  Anglo-Saxons,  both  in  a  phy- 
sical and  moral  fenfe,  from  which  the  improvement,  and  con- 
fequently the  change  of  the  language  was  infeparable  ;  and 
fecondly,  the  mixture  of  the  latter  with  the  Danifh,  which 
being  clofely  related  to  the  Anglo-Saxon,  was  more  eafily 
united  into  one  la-iguage. 

Many  written  fragments,  from  this  period,  are  ftill  extant ; 
and  all  fuch  as  are  commonly  called  Anglo-Saxon,  properly 
confift  of  a  mixture  of  Danilh  with  the  Anglo-Saxon.  To  this 
number  we  may  particularly  refer  two  literal  tranflations  of 
the  four  Evangelifts,  the  writings  of  King  Alfred,  and  the 
beautiful  poetical  paraphrafe  of  the  Firji  Book  of  Mofcs^hy 
ihejpurious  Caedmon. 

As  a  fpecimen  of  the  profe-languageof  this  period,  Johnson 
gives  the  ftrll  Chapter  of  St  Luke,  extracted  from  one  of  the 
tranflations  above  mentioned  ;  but  as  fuch  literal  tranflations 
aie  by  no  means  calculated  to  exhibit  the  fpirit  of  a  language, 
I  have  made  choice  of  the  Travels  of  Ohther  and  Wul'stan, 
as  King  Alfred,  who  died  in  901,  defcribed  them  in  his  Pre- 
face to  the  tranflation  of  Qnosius T  have  faithfully  tranfcri- 

bcd  it  from  Sj)e/Tmn*s  Fita  Aelfredi  ;  Oxfprd,  Fol.  ^678  ;  with 

this 


THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 


this  difFerence  onlj,  that  iaftead  of  giving  the  (very  inaccurate) 
Latin  jjf  Spelman,  I  have  fubjoined  a  German  tranflation  ; 
and  for  the  greater  convenience  of  readers,  in  general,  I  have 
likewife  exchanged  the  Anglo-Saxon  for  the  common  Latin 
charafters. 

This  original  piece,  on  account  of  the  many  curious  parti- 
culars it  contains,  I  make  no  doubt,  will  pi'ove  more  accept- 
able than  any  of  thofe  which  are  bare  literal  tranflations,  and 
confequently  improper  to  ferve  as  fpecimens  for  difplaying  the 
genius  of  the  language. 


Ohthaere  faede  his  hlaforde 
Aelfrede  de  Kynincge  thaet  he 
ealra  Northtnanna  Northmeft 
bade  J  he  cwaeth  thaet  he  bude 
on  thaera  lande  noithweardum 
with  thawaeft  fae.he  faede  theah 
thaet  thaet  land  fy  fwithe  north 
thanon*  ao  hit  is  eall  wefle  bu- 
ton  on  feawum  ftowum*  ftlce 
maelum  wiciath  Finnas*  on  hun- 
tathe  on  wintra*  and  on  fumera 
no  fifcothe  be  thaere  fae. 

He  faede  tliaet  he  aet  fumum 
cyrre  woldc  fandian  hu  lange 
thaet  land  north  rihte  laege* 
oth  the  hwaether  aenig  man 
benortham  thaem  weftene  bu- 
de :  tha  for  he  north  rihte  be 
thaem  lande*  let  him  ealne 
weg  thaet  ivefte  lande  on  thaet 
fteorbord'  and  tha  wid  fae  on 
baec   bord  thry    dagas*  tha  wes 

he 


Ohther  faid  to  his  Lord, 
King  Alfred,  that  of  all  the 
Normans  he  refided  the  farthcft 
towards  the  North  ;  he  affirm- 
ed, that  he  refided  in  that  conn- 
try  which,  in  the  Noith,  borders 
on  the  Weftern  Ocean.  This 
country  extends  far  to  the  North, 
is  a  complete  defert,  excepting 
a  few  places  which  are  inhabit- 
ed by  the  Finns,  who  live  in 
winter  by  the  chace,  but  in  fum- 
mer  by  fifliing. 

He  related,  that  he  had  once 
wiflied  to  examine,  'how  far  this 
country  extended  to  the  North  j 
or  whether  this  defert  was  in- 
habited in  its  northern  pajts. 
For  this  purpofe  he  had  failed 
three  fucceffive  days  in  a  ftraight 
northern  line,  having  the  defert^ 
country  on  the  ~right,  and  the 
open  fea  on  the  left  hand  j  thus 

he 


Ohther  fagte  zu  feinem  Herm,  dem  Koenige  Aeltrfd,  dafs  er  unter  alien 
Normannen  am  weiteften  gegen  Norden  wohne;  er  fagte,  er  wohnein  dem  Lande, 
welches  nordwaerts  an  die  Weftfee  ftoefst.  Diefes  Land  erftrecke  fich  wcit  gegen 
Mitternacht,  imd  fey  voellig  wuift,  bis  auf  einige  wenige  Orte,  wo  einige  Finnett 
•wohnen,'*welche  im  Winter  von  der  Jagd,  ini  Sommer  aber  von  dem  Fifchfange 
leben. 

Er  fagte,  er  habe  einmal  unterfuchen  \vollen,wie  weit  fich  diefes  Land  naeh 
Norden  erflreckte  ;  ndcr  ob  noch  Menfchen  inj  Norden  diefer  Wuifte  wohneten. 
Des%yegen  fey  er  drey  Tage  lang  g«rade  nordwaerts  gereifet,  habe  dus  wuifte  Land 
2ur  rcchteii,  und  die  ofiene  See  auf  der  Uokcn  Hand  gehabt ;  da  er  dcnn  bis  dahin 

nord- 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG. 


xt 


he  fwa  feor  north  fwa  fwa  hwael 
huntan  fyrreit  farath:-  tha  for  he 
tha  gyt  north  ryhte*  fwa  he 
mihte  on  thaem  othrum  thrim 
dagura  gefeglian*  tha  beah  thaet 
land  wer  eart  rihte*  othrhe  lio 
fae  in  on  thaet  land*  he  nyfte 
hwaether'  buton  he  wyfte  thet 
he  ther  bad  weftan  windes  oth- 
the  hwon  northan*  and  fegled 
thanon  eaft  be  lande*  fwa  fwa 
he  mihte  on  feowor  dagum  ge- 
feglian'thafceolde  hebidan  ryhte 
northan  windes*  forthan  thaet 
land  thaer  beah  futhrihte*  oth- 
thc  feo  fae  in  onwaet  land*  he 
nyiTe  hwaether*  tha  faegled  he 
thanon  futhrihte  ^e  lande*  fwa 
fwa  he  mihte  pn  fif  dagum  gefe- 
glian:. 

Tha  laeg  thaer  an  micel  ea 
up  in  that  land*  wa  cyrdon  he 
up  in  on  tha  ea"  for  thaem  hy 
ne  thorfton  forth  be  thaere  ea 
feglian*  for  unfrithe*  for  thaem 
thaet  land  waes  eall  gebun  on 
pthre  healfc  thaere  ea:-  Ne  met- 
te  he  aer  nan  gebun  land*  fyth- 
than  he  fram  his  agnum  hame. 
for*  ac  him  waes  eaine  weg  weft 
land  on  thaet  fteorbord  butan 
fifceran  and  fugeleran  and  hun- 
tan* 


he  had  come  to  that  northern 
region,  to  which  "the  whale-fi(h- 
ers  w'ere  accultomed  to  refort. 
From  thence  he  had  failed,  for 
three  days,  further  North,  where 
he  found  the  country  extending 
due  Eaft.  But  whether  the  fea 
continue  within  the  land,  he 
knew  not  j  he  only  knew  this 
much,  that  he  had  ftopped  there, 
waiting  for  wefterly  or  northerly- 
winds.  After  this  he  failed  four 
days  along  the  coaft,  when  he 
was  attain  obliged  to  wait  for  a 
northerly  wind,  as  the  country 
extended  to  the  South.  Whe- 
ther the  fea  continue  within  this 
part  of  the  land,  he  alfo  knew 
not.  Then  he  failed  five  addi- 
tional days  along  the  Southern 
coaft. 

Here  he  met  with  a  great 
river  that  extended  far  up  the 
country,  and  on  the"  mouth  of 
which  he  ftopped,  but  for  fear 
of  the  inhabitants,  he  did  not 
venture  to  fail  up  that  river  ;  for 
the  country,  on  one  bank  of  the 
river,  appeared  fully  inhabited. 
He  had  met  with  no  other  inha- 
bited country  than  this  fince  his 
departure  from  home  :  the  coun- 
try on  the  right    always  appear- 


nordwaerts  gekominen  fey,  wohin  die  WalUifchjaeger  zu  gehen  pflegten.Von  da  fey 
er  nochdrey  Tage  lang  weiter  nordwaerts  gel'egelt,da  fich  denn  dasLand  geradc  nach 
Often  geftreckt  habe.  Ob  aber  innerhalb  des  Landes  Meer  fey,  wifl'e  er  nicht ; 
er  wific  nur  fo  viel,  dafs  er  fich  dafelbft  aufgehalten,  und  auf  den  Weft-oder  Nord- 
tvind  gewartet  habe.  Hierauf  fey  cr  vier  Tagc  lang  an  dem  Lande  hiiigcfegelt, " 
worauf  er  auf  den  Nordwind  habe  warten  muiflen,  weil  fich  das  Land  iiach. 
Suiden  gefkeckt  habe.  Ob  fich  die  See  in  diefes  Land  erftrecke,  wilTc  cr  nicht. 
Hitrauf  fey  er  fuinf  Tage  lang  laengsder  Kuifte  fuidwaerts  gefegelt. 

JDa  bufand  fich  cin  grofler  Flufs,  welcher  weit  in  das  Land  ging,  an  deffen 
Miijndune  er  fich  aufhiclt,  fich  aber  aus  Furcht  vor  den  Einwohnern  nicht  den 
Flufs  hinaiif  wagte,-  weil  das  Land  aufdcr  andern  Seite  des  Flufl'cs  ftark  bc- 
wohnt  war.  Er  hatte  auch,  feitdem  er  aus  feincr  Heimath  abgereifet  war,  aufier 
iiefem  kcin  bewolmtes  Land  angetroffcn,  fondcrn  hatte  zur  Rcthten  jcdcrzeit 

■vrujllc* 


xu 


THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 


tan"  and  thaet  wacren  ealle  Fin- 
nfti*  and    him   waes    a  Widfac 
on   thact  'uaec  bord:. 


Tha  Beorraas  haefdon  fwithe 
well  gebun  liyra  land*  ac  hi  ne 
dorfton  tbacw  on  cuman:-  Ac 
thara  Terfin  na  land  thaes  call 
wefte*  butan  waer  huntan  gewi- 
codon*  oththe  fifceras.'  oththe 
fugeleras  :.  Fela  fpella  lilm  fae- 
don  tha  Beormas*  aegther  ge  of 
liyra  agcnum  lande  ge  of  thaem 
lande  theymbe  hy  utan  waeran* 
ac  he  nyfle  bwat  thaes  fothes 
tv«es*  for  thaem  he  hit  fylf  ne 
gefeah  :•  Tha  Fionas  him  thuhte 
and  tha  Beormas  fpraccon  qcah 
angetueode  ;i 


Swithod  he  for  thider*  to 
cacan  thaes  landes  fceawunge* 
for  thaens  hoifwaelara*  for  thaem 
hi  habbath  fwithe  aethele  ban  on 
hyra  tothum  :•  Tha  tew  hy 
brohion  fume  thaem  cynincge' 
and  hyra  hyd  bith  fwithe  god  to 
fciprathum  :•  Se  liwael  bith 
micle  laelTa  than  othre  hwalas* 
ne  bith  h^  Icngra  thonne    fyfan 

elna 


ing  a  dcfcrt  uninhabited,  except 
by  a  few  fiihermen,  fowlers  and 
hunters,  who  were  all  of  Finnic 
extraflion.  But  on  the  left,  he 
always  ohferved  the  open  fea.  • 

Many  Biarmians  reiided  a- 
mong  them  j  yet  he  was  not  in- 
clined to  venture  a  landing 
there.  But  the  country  of  the 
Terfins  was  uninhabited,  except 
'  by  fome  hunters,  fiflicrpaen  or 
fowlers  who  refided  there. 
Tbe  Biarmians  told  him  much 
of  their  own  country,  as  well 
as  of  the  neighbouring  lands  j 
but  how  far  their  narratives 
were  true,  he  could  not  afcer- 
tain,  as  he  had  not  himfelf  {ctn 
thefe  countries.  *  He  believed, 
however,  that  the  Finks  and 
Biarmians  had  one  common  lan- 
guage. 

His  principal  objeft  in  tra- 
velling thither  had  been,  to  ob- 
tain the  fe^-horfes,  whofe  teeth 
were  compofed  of  a  very  preci- 
ous bone,  and  foiae  of  which 
teeth  he  likewife  gave  to  the 
King.  Their  fliins  are  of  ex-. 
cellent  ufe  for  tackle.  This 
fpecies  of  whale  is  much  fmallcr 
than  any  other,    being  never  ar 

bove 


•w-niftcs  Land  gehabt,  einige  wcnip;e  Fifchcr,  Vogelfaenger  und  Jaeger  ausgenom- 
Tiien,  wc'.cfie  iiisgefammt  Fmnen  wiiren.  Zur  L.inken  abcr  hattc  er  jcderzeit 
(ias'ofFenc  7»Ieer. 

Es  wobtiten  viek  Blarmter  in  ihrem  Lande ;  allein  er  habe  es  nicht  wagen 
v'olien,  ddfeibft  aiizular^.den.  Das  I.atid  der  Terfiunen  aber  fey  unbewohnt,  auiFer 
dafs  einiije  Jaeger,  Fifchcr,  odtr  Vogelfieiiyer  dafelbft  wohnten.  Die  Biarmiffr 
haenen  iluu  vicics,  fo  wchl  von. ihrem  eigenen  Lande  als  von  den  benachbartcn 
l.,aendcni  rr^aehlet;  ailein  er  wifle  nicht  v/as  daran  v»ahr  fey,  weil  er  fi&  fclbft 
nicht  gefchtn  hibe  Er  glaubte  indeffcn,  dafs  die  Fi N n e N  und  Biarmikr  kine 
\\\\\  cbea  tUefclbj  Sprache  hacttcn. 

V.T  fey  abcr  vorii'j'.mlich  I'm  der  Wallroffe  wilkn  dahin  gereifet,  welfheeinfehr 
fchr.tt7.bares  Be!n  in  iliren  Zaehnen  haetten,  von  welchen  Zaehnen  er  anch  einige 
icm  Koenige  g^b.  Jlire  Felle  find  fehr  gut  zu^chifTstauen  zu  gebrauchen.  Dicfo 
Art  Walififclic  ill  ticit  kleincr  als  anderc  Arten,  und  nicht  uiber   fieb^n  Ehlen 

"  laiig. 


ESSAYS,  BY    ADELUNG. 


iua 


clna  lange*  ac  on  his  agnum 
lande  iffe  bedfta  hwael  huntuth. 
tha  beth  eachta  and  feowertiges 
clna  lange*  and  tha  maeftan 
fifiges  elna  langf  *  thara  he  faede 
thaet  he  fyxa  fum  ofsloge  fyxtig 
on  twara  dagum. 


He  waes  fwithe  fpaedlg  man 
on  thaem  aethum  the  hoera  fpe- 
da  on  beoth"  that  is  on  wildruai  :• 
He  haefde  thagyf  tha  hethone 
cyning  fohte*  tamra  deora  unbe- 
bohtra  fyx  hand  :•  Tha  theorhe 
hatad  hranas  :•  wara  waeron  fix 
'ftaet  hranas*  Tha  beoth  fwithe 
dyre  mid.Finnum*  fof  thaem  hy 
foth  tha  wildan  hranas  mid  :• 
He  v\aes  -mid  thaem  fyrftura 
mannum  on  thaem  lande*  naefde 
he  theah  mathonne  twentighry- 
thera*  and  twentig  fceapa*  and 
twentig  fwina*  and  ;thaet  lytle 
thaet  he  erede  he  erede  mid 
horfan  :•  Ac  hyra  ar  is  maeil  on 
thaem  gafole  the  thaFinnashira 
*vildath*  thaet  gafol  bithon  deora 
lellum*  and  on  fugela  fetherum* 
and  hwales  bane*  and  on  thaem 
fciprapura  the  beoth  of  hwaeles 
byde 


bove  feven  ells  in  length.  But 
good  whales  were  alfo  caught 
in  his  native  country,  which 
meafured  upwards  of  forty-eight 
yards,  and  fometiines  above  fifty 
yards  in  length.  He  affirmed, 
that  he  was  the  fixth  among 
thofe  (i.  e.  in  company  with  five 
others)  who  had  killed  fixty 
whales  in  two  daysl 

He  was  a  very  rich  man  In 
thofe  things  which,  with  them, 
were  efteemed  as  riches,  that  is, 
in  cattle.  He  had,  when  he 
came  to  the  King,  fix  hundred^ 
unpurchafed,  tame  deer,  which 
he  called  rein-deer.  Among 
thtfe  were  fix  highly  efteemed. ' 
by  the  Finns,  as  by  means  of 
them  they  tamed  the  wild  rein- 
deer. He  was  one  of  the  Chiefs 
in  the  land,  and  yet  he  was  pof- 
feffed  of  no  more  than  twenty- 
oxen,  tw^enty  (heep,  and  twenty 
hogs.  The  fmall  piece  of  foil, 
which  he  cultivated,  was  tilled 
by  horfes.  The  principal  re- 
venues (of  the  Chiefs)  confifted 
.tin  the  tribute  which  the  *Finns 
paid  them,  viz.  in  fkins  of  ani- 
mals, bird-feathers,  whale-bone 
and  fliip-ropes,  which  were  ma- 
nufactured 


lang.  Es  wuirden  aber  auch  in  feJnerri  Vaterlande  gute  Wallfifche  gefangen, 
welche  uiber  acht  und  vierzig,  und  zuweilcn  iliber  funfzig  Ehlen  lang  waeren- 
Er  verficherte,  dafs  er  felb  fechfte  (d.  i.  niit  noch  fuinfen)  ihrer  in  zwey  Tagea 
lechzig  erleget  haoe. 

Er  war  ein  fehr  reicher  Mann'an  folchen  Dingen,  welche  bey  ihnen  fuir 
Reichthum  gehalten  werden,  d.  i.  an  Vieh.  Er  hatte,  als  er  zu  dem  Koenige  kam, 
fechsliundert  ungekaufte  zahnie  Hirfche,  welche  er  Rennthiere  nannte.  Darun- 
ter  befanden  fich  fechs,  welche  bey  den  Pinnen  fehr  hoch  gcfchaetzet  werden 
weil  fie  die  wilden  Rennthiere  damir  zahm  machen.  Er  war  einer  der  Vor- 
nehmften  in  dem  Lande,  und  hatte  dennoch  nicht  niehr  als  zwanzig  Ochfen.zwan- 
zig  Schafc,  und  zwanzig  Schweine.  Den  wcnigcn  Acker,  welchen  er  bauetc, 
den  bauetc  er  mit  Pferdcn.  Jhrc  vornehmften  Einkuinfte  bcftehen  in  dem  Tribute, 
wdchcn  die  Finnen  ihnen  bezahlen,  und  welcher  in  ThierfcUen,  ia  Yogclfedern,  in 

b  Fitchbcin 


XIV 


THREE   PHILOLOGICAL 


liyde    geworht  and   of  feoles  :. 

Aeghwilc  gylt  be  his  gebyr- 
dum*  fe  birdfta  fceall  gildan 
fiftyne  mearthes  fell*  and  fif 
hranes'  and  an  beran  fel*  and 
tyn  ambra  fethra'  and  berenne 
kyiteloththe  yterenne*  and  twe- 
gen  fciprapas.  aegwer  fy  (yxUg 
elna  laug*  other  fy  of  hwaeles 
byde  geworhtc*  other  of  iioles  :. 


Thaet  Eaftland  (Wulfstan" 
faede^  is  fwithe  mycel'  and  tbaer 
bith  fwithe  manig  burh*  and  on 
aelcere  byrig  bith  cyninge*  and 
thaer  bith  fwythe  micel  hunig 
and  fifcath*  and  fe  cyning  and 
tha  ricoftan  men  drincath  myran 
meocl'  and  tha  unfpethigan  and 

tha 


nufaftured  of  the    fkins  of  thi 
whale  and  fea-dog  (feal). 

Every  one  contributed  in  pro- 
portion to  his  abilities.  The 
richeft  generally  gave  fifteen 
fldns  of  the  marret,  five  of  the 
reindeer,  one  bear's  fkin,  ten- 
meafures  of  feathers,  together 
with  a  coat  made  of  the  fkins  of 
bears  or  otters,  and  two  Ihip's- 
cables,  each  of  them  fixty  ells 
long,  one  of  which  mud  be  ma- 
nufaftured  of    whale-lkins,    and 

the  other  of  the  fkins  of  feals. 

*  * 

This  Eaflern  country  •^•(Wulf- 
stan related)  was  very  large  and 
contained  many  cities,  each  of 
which  had  its  king.  Much  ho- 
ney and  many  fiflies  were  likewife 
found  there.  The  King  and  the 
fichert  perfons  drank  horfe-milk, 
but  the  poor  and  the  fervants 
drank 


Hfchbein,  und  in  Schifsfeilen  beflehet,  v^elche  letztere  aus  Wallfifch-und  See- 
haiidsfcUen  verfcrtiget  werden. 

Jcder  giebt  nach  leinem  Vermoegen.  Der  Reiclifle  giebt  gemeiijiglich  fiinf- 
zehn  MarderftUe,  fuinf  Rennthierc,  ein  Baerenfell,  und  zehn  Maal's  pedern,  nebft 
einem  Rocke  von  Baehren-oder  Fifchotterfeilen,  und  zweyen  f-'chifsleilcn,  jede»» 
ll-chzig  Ehlen  lang,  deren  eines  ausWallfifch — das  andere  aber  aus  Seehundsfellen 
verfertiget  feyn  mufs. 

Diefes  Oefiliche  Land  ferzaehlte  Wulfstan)  ift  fehr  grofs,  und  hat  fehr  viele 
Staedte,  dcren  jede  ihren  Koenig  hat.  Aiich  giebt  es  dalelbst  viel  Honig  und  Fifche. 
I>er  Koenig  6ad  die  reichften  Perfonen   trinken  Pferdemilch,  die  Armen  und 

Knechte 


*  ,  *  Here  follow  Ohther's  and  Wvlfstau's  Ceografiilcal  acctunts  oi  Nor- 
•yizy,  the  adjacent  countries  to  the  Eaft,  and  the  river  Vifula.  They  are,  how- 
ever, fo  inaccurately  ftated,  and  fo  little  interefting  in  themfelves,  that  I  thought 
proper  to  fave  the  room  for  other  more  curious  and  attradlive  fpecimens.  I  have 
felefted  a  few  of  that  defcript  ion  from  the  works  of  Caxton,  Harding,  War- 
Toy,  &c.  which  appeared  to  me  better  calculated,  to  exhibit  the  true  ftate  and 
progrcfs  of  the  Engliih  languagCj  cfpecially  during  the  fii/raf  and  yb//r//&  periodical 
divifion^  here  adopted. 

f  Speaking  lall  of  the  Fiftula,  t\it  Ilfng  (modern  Elbing)  the  EaJIb'icn  Lahc 
(modern  Frifc/j  Haff)  and  tne  adjacent  country  to  the  Eaft;  Wulfstan  relates, 
thefe  curious  fadls  concerning  the  different  provinces,  now  inhabited  by  the  Eall- 
anii  Weft-Pnifliaus,  who  gained  the  vidoric*  of  Frederic  II.  W. 


ESSAYS,    BY    AD  E  LUNG. 


XV 


tha  theowan  drincath  medo  :• 
Ther  bith  fvvithe  mycel  ^ewinn 
betwconan  him*  and  ne  bith  thaer 
naenig  ealo  gebrowen  mid  Ef- 
tum'  ac  thaer  bith  medo  genoh  :• 
And  thaer  is  mid  Eftum 
theaw  thbnne  thaer  bith  man 
dead"  thaet  he  litii  inne  unfor- 
baerned  mid  his  magum  and 
freondum  monath*  gewhilura 
twegen'  and  tha  Cyningas  and 
tha  othre  heah  thungene  men* 
fwa  micel  lengc  fvva  hi  maran 
fpeda  habbath*  hwilura  healf 
gear*  that  hi  beoth  unforbaerned* 
and  lic^ath  bufan  eoaithan*  on 
hyra  hufum*  and  ealle  tha  hwile 
the  thaet  lio  bith  inne*  thaer 
fceal  beon  gedrync  and  plega 
oth  thone  daeg  the  hi  hine  for- 
baerneth  :.  Thonne  thy  ylcan 
daeg  hi  hine  to  thaem  ade  be- 
ran  wijlath*  thonne  to  daelath 
hi  his  feoh  thaet  thaer  to  lafe 
bith  aefter  them  gedrynce  and 
thaem  plegan*  on  fif  oththe  fyx 
hwilum  on  ma*  fwa  fwa  thaes 
feos  andefn  bith  :•  Aleogath  hit 
thonne  fore  hwaega  on  anre 
mile*  thoac  maeftan  daele  fram 
thaem  tune*  thonne  otherne* 
thonne  thaene  thriddan*  oththe 
byt  eal  aled  bith  on  thaere 
anrq 


drank  mead.  They  Ukewife  had 
much  wine,  but  beer  was  not 
brewed  among  the  Eaftein  in- 
habitants, inl^ead  of  which  they 
had  plenty  of  mead. 

The  Eaftern  inhabitants  had 
the  (fingular)  cuftom  of  keeping 
the  bodies  of  their  deceafed 
friends  and  relationsfor  a  month, 
fometimes  for  two  months,  ^vith- 
in  theic  houfes  j  but  the  kings 
and  other  men  of  rank  were 
kept  longer  within  the  houfe, 
iri  proportion  to  their  riches. 
Sometimes  they  were  fuflFered  to 
lie  half  a  year  above  ground,  in 
their  houfe?,  without  being 
burnt.  As  long  as  the  corps 
remained  there,  they  feafted  and 
played  till  the  appointed  day  of 
burning.  On  this  day  they  re- 
moved it  to  the  funeral  pile  ; 
they  divided  Jnto  five,  fix,  or 
m^re  parts,  according  to  the 
nature  of  the  property,  the 
goods  of  the  deceafed,  if  any 
remained,  after-  feafling  upon, 
and  playing  for  them.  Then 
they  placed  the  greateft  part  of 
them,  at  leaft  one  mile  from  the 
village  (of  the  deceafed),  then 
the  fecond,  and  then  the  thiid. 
part,  until  every  thing  was  pla- 
ced 


Knechte  aber  trinkcn  Meth.     Es  giebt  auch  vielen  Wciii  unter  ihnen  ;  abcr  Bier 
wird  unter  den  Oftlaendern  nicht  gcbriuet ;  ,dagegen  haben  fie  Meth  genug. 

Die  Oftlaender  haben  den  (fonderbaren)  Gebrauch,dafs  wenrt  jemand  unter  ihnen 
ftirbt,  derfelbe  in  deui  Haufe  unter  den  Frcunden  und  Verwandtcn  einen  Monath, 
zuweilen  auch  zwey,liegen  bleibt ;  die  Koenige  aber  und  andcrc  vomehme  Maen- 
ner  bleiben  dcfto  laenger  liegen,  je  reichcr  iic  find.  Zuweilen  llegen  fie  ein  halbeg 
Jahr  uiber  dcr  Erdc  in  ihren  Haeufern  unvcrbrannt.  So  lange  die  Leiche  fo  h'egt 
zechcn  und  fpiclen  fie  bis  zur  Vcrbrennung.  An  demTage  aber,  da  fie  ihn  auf  den 
Holzftofs  bringen,  theilen  fie  feineGuiter,  fo  viel  nach  dem  Zechen  und  Spielen  davon 
iioch  uibrig  ist,in  fuinf,  oder  fcchs,  odef  mehr  Theile,  nachdcm  die  Guiter  bcftliafTch 
find  Dann  legen  fie  den  grocistenThcildcrfelben  wenigftens  eine  Meile  von  dem 
P©rfe  (de»  Verftorbciicn,)  dann  dcii  zweytcu,  dann  den  dritlcu  Thcil,  bis  alles  inner- 

b  %  haH^ 


XVI 


THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 


anre  mile'  and  fccall  beon  fe 
laefta  dael  nyhft  thaem  tune 
the  fe  deada  man  onlith  :•  Thon- 
nc  fceolon  beon  gefamnode  ealle 
tha  menn  the  fwyftofte  hois  hab- 
bath  on  thaem  lande*  for  hwaega 
on  fif  milum  oththe  onfyx  milum 
frara  thaem  feo':-  Thonne  aer- 
nath  hy  ealle  toweard  them  feo* 
thonne  ^cymeth  fe  man  fe  thaet 
Swifte  hors  hafath  to  thaem 
aereflan  daele  and  to  thaem  mae- 
flan*  and  fwa  elc  aefter  othrum* 
oth  hit  bith  eall  genumen"  and 
fe  nimth  thone  laeftan  dael. 
fe  nihil  thaem  tune  thaet  feoh 
geaerneth*  and  thonne  rideth 
aelc  his  weges  raid  tha  feo*  and 
hyt  motan  habban  call'  and  for- 
tby  thacr  beoth  tha  Swiftan 
hors  ungefoge  dyre  :•  And  thon- 
ne his  geflreon  beoth  thus  eall 
afpe4ed*  thonne  byrth  man  hine 
uf  and  forbaerneth  mid  his 
waepnum  and  hraegle*  und  fwi- 
thofl  ealle  his  fpeda  hy  forfpen- 
dath  mid  than  langan  legere 
thaes  deadan  mannes  inne'  and 
thaes  the  hy  be  thaem  waegura 
alecgath*  the  tha  freradon  to 
aernath  and  nimath  :•  And  thaet 
is  mid  Eftum  theaw  thaet  thaer 
fgeal  aelces  getheodes  man  beon 

for- 


ced within  that  mile.  Tho 
fti-alleft  part  was  upon  this  oc- 
cafion  always  placed  neareil  to 
the  village,  in  which  the  de- 
funft  had  lived.  This  being 
done,  all  the  men  poffeiTed  of 
the  fwifteft  horfes,  within  five 
or  fix  miles  dillance  from  the 
cftate  of  the  deceafed,  aflembled 
and  rode  with  the  greateftfpeed 
to  the  places,  where  the  goods 
were  depofited  ;  fo  that  he  who 
had  the  fwifteft  horfe  arrived 
firft  at  the  beft  ftiare  of  the 
property,  and  thus  one  after 
another,  till  the  whole  was  car- 
ried away.  But  he  who  arrived 
at  the  lot  placed  neareft  to  the 
village,  got  the  fmalleft  (hare. 
Upon  this,  each  of  them  rode  off 
with  his  ftiare  and  kept  it  whol- 
ly— as  his  property. — For  this 
leafon,  too,  fvvift  hoifes  were 
highly  valued  among  them.  Af- 
ter having  thus  diftributed  all 
Tiis  property,  they  carried  out 
the  deceafed  (into  the  open  air), 
and  burnt  him,  together  with 
his  armour  and  cloaths.  The 
greateft  part  of  the  property  was 
fpent  in  the  long  keeping  of  the 
corps,  but  whatever  was  expo- 
fed  on  the  road,  was  gained  and 
carried 


halb  diefcr  Meile  gelegt  ill.  Der  kleinfte  Theii  wird  dabey  allemahl  zunaechft  an 
das  Dorf  gelegt,  wo  der  Verftorbene  gewohnet  hat.  Alsdann  verfammeln  fich 
alle  Maenner  aus  dem  Lande,  welche  die  I'cimelleftsn  Pferde  haben,  fuinf  bis  fechs 
Meilen  weit  von  den  Guitern,  und  rennen  fporenftreichs  darauf  zu  ;  da  denn  der, 
welcher  das  fchnellefte  Pferd  hat,  zu  dem  erllen  und  beften  Theil  kommt,  und  fo 
einer  nach  dem  andern  bis  alles  weggenommen  ill.  Dcrjenlge  bekommt  aber  den 
klcinften  Theil,  der  zu  dem  naechft  an  dem  Dorfe  gekgenen  Theile  gelanget. 
Alsdann  reitet  ein  jeder  mit  feinem  Theile  davon,  imd  bshaelt  ihn  ganz — aU  leira 
Eigenthum. — Dies  macht  uuch,  dais  die  fluichtigen  Pferde  bey  Ilinen  uiberaus  theuer 
find.  W^enn  nun  alle  Guiter  verthcllet  find,  alsdann  tragen  (ie  den  Verftorbenfen 
hinaus  (in  die  freyc  Luft),  und  verbrermen  ihn  mit  feinen  Wafien  imd  Kleideru. 
Sein  meiftes  Vermoegen  gehet  bey  dem  langen  Aufbehalten  des  VeTstorbenen 
flaraxif ;  v/as  aber  an  deni  Wege  ausgefetzet  ift,  wird  von  Fremden  gewonnen  un4 

^   weg-> 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG. 


forbaerncd'  and  gyf  thnr  man 
na  ban  findeth  unforbaerned*  hi 
hit  fceolan  miclum  gebetan  :• 
And  thaer  is  mid  Eaftum  an 
maeofti'  thaet  hi  magon  cyle 
gcwyrcan*  and  thy  thaer  licgath 
tha  deadan  men  fwa  langc  and 
ne  fuliath-  that  hi  wyrcath  thone 
eylc  hine  on*  and  thcah  man 
afette  tvvegen  faetels  full  ealath 
oththe  waetheres'  hy  gedoth*  that 
other  bith  ofer  frureir  facji  hit  fy 
fumraor  am  winter. 


carried  off  by  Grangers.  It  %v» 
a  prevailing  cuftom  among  the 
FJlbians,  to  burn  their  dead  ; 
and  if  afterwards  a  Cngle  bone 
was  found  unbutnt,  fuch  an  o- 
miflion  was  feverely  punilhed. 
The  inhabitants  of  the  Eaft  Tvei-p 
alfo  acquainted  with  the  art  oF 
producing  cold  ;  hence  the  corps 
could  lie  fo  long  without  under- 
going putrefaftion,  becaufc  they 
introduced  cold  (fiigorific  fub- 
ftances)  into  it,  And  if  tw» 
veffels  filled  with  beer  or  water 
were  kxpofed,  they  could  make 
both  of  them  freeze,  whether  it 
were  in  fummer  or  winter*. 

vrcggcnommen.  Es  ift  bey  den  EJibea  der  Gebraiich,.  dafs  jeder  Verllorbcnc  urer- 
brai:  It  wird,  und  wenn  hernach  ein  einiges  Bein  unverbrannt,  gefundeu  v/ird,  lb 
tvird  Iblches  fcharf  geahfldet.  Die  Oftlaender  haben  auch  die  Kraft,  dafs  fie  Kaelte 
machcn  koenncn ;  dahcr  auch  die  Ijeichen.  fo  laiige  liegen  und  nicht  faulen,  wtul 
man  Kaelte  (kaltmachende  Koerper)  in  Ce  bringct.  Und  wenii  man  zwey 
GefaefTe  voll  Bier  oder  Wafler  hinfetzet,  fo  koenaen  fie  machcn,  dafs  beyde  frieren, 
cs  fey  ini  Somnier  odor  Im  Winter.  la 

*  For  fuch  readers  as  may  be  only  imperfediy  acquainted  with  the  Cermcat 
language,  I  beg  leave  to  add  the  following  remarks  :  i ft.  that  all  Substaurires  are 
written  with  large  initials ;  ad,  that,  according  to  the  German  idiom,  the  prefa* 
tenfc  is  ufed,  throughout  this  narrative,  instead  of  the  Engliih  imperfei-1 ;  3d.  tliat 
though  a  fcntence  in  the  German  frequently  begins  with  tiic  wipcrfcil  teni'j;,  whea 
introducing  the  fpcech  of  another,  (v.  g.  Er  fagte^  er  habe^  &c.  pag.  xiii  )  yet  by 
the  German  idiom,  the  quotation  itfelf  is  exprdlcd  in  the  conjunii!i}i  fref<:nt ; — ^ 

f>eculiarity,  which  is  uniformly  obferved  by  Adeluno  hunfclf,  wiiofe  tranll  itioirl 
lave  here  fubjoined,  with  fcarcely  any  alteration  ;  4th,  that  the  preceding  Englifi 
tranflation  deviates  only  from  the  German^  where  the  construftion  of  the  for- 
mer rendered  it  necefl'ary.  Finally ;  to  prove,  that  the  affinity  of  the  G^won  t« 
the  Anglo-Saxon  is  much  stronger  than  to  the  modern  Englijb,  1  have  bcre  »uld«3d 
fomc  examples. 

German.  AngloSaxon.  ,    JEngliJb, 

Tagen.  (pi.  dat.  of  Tag.) 

Gcfegelt.  (prct.  oifegeln.) 

Wuilfte.  (impf.couj  of  •wijfen). 

Vogclfanger. 

Gegebcn.  (participle  oigcben) 

Ihres  (pofs.  pron.  neut.  of  Ihr) 

Eigenes  (part  of  a  pofs.  prou.) 

Hirfclien.  pi.  of  Hirfcl) 

Zuweilen, 

lK:K'rf.ihren, 

uverbranm  (pret.  of  «;V(5iv<rir<wr«iy  } 

li,i3tenth<.ii» 


Dagum. 

Days,  (day) 

Gefeglian, 

Sailed,  (to  fail) 

W'uiste. 

He  might  know. 

Fngeieran. 

BirdA:atcher. 

Gebun. 

Given. 

Hyra. 

Their. 

Agenum. 

Own. 

Hryrethera. 

Stags  fdcer). 

Gewilum. 

Sometimes. 

Oferferan 

To  travel  (ferry)  grrr. 

Unforbacmed. 

Unburnt  (not  to  barn.) 

Mdcstanducle. 

Tor  tlie  mobt  jurt. 

vVjhI 

XVI J 1 


THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 


In  order  to  give  likewife  a  fpecimen  of  poetical  compofltion, 
I  ftiall  fubftitute  for  the  poem  furniflied  bj  Johnson,  another 
original,  which  I  found  in  Hickes's  Gramm.  Anglo-Saxon. 
pag.  178. — -Though  the  age  of  it  be  not  afcertained,  it  certain- 
Ij  belongs  to  this  period,  and  may  be  confidered  as  a  concife 


Topography  of  the  City  of  Durham. 


Is  theos  burch  breome. 
Geond  Breoten  rice. 

Steopa  gefta  tholad. 

Stanas  ymb  utan. 

Wundrum  gewaexen. 

Weor  ymb  eornath. 

En  y  Lhum  ftrong. 

And  therinne  wunath 

Fifca  feola  kinn. 

On  floda  gemong. 

And  there  gewexen. 

Wuda  feftern  mice!. 

Wuniath  in  them  wicum 

Wilda  deor  monige. 

In  deopa  dalum. 

Deora  ungerim. 

Is  im  there  byri, 

Eac  bearnum  gecithed 

De  arfefta  eadig  Cuthberht. 


And 


This  city  is  celebrated 
In    the    whole  empire    of  the 

Britons. 
The  road  to  it  is  fleep, 
It  is  furrounded  wiih  rocks, 
And  with  curious  plants. 
The  Wear  flows  round  it, 
A  river  of  rapid  waves. 
And  there  live  in  it, 
Fifhes  of  various  kinds 
Mingling  with  the  floods. 
And  there  grow 
Great  forefts  j 
There  live  in  the  receffes 
Wild  animals  of  many  forts, 
In  the  deep  valleys 
Deer  innumerable. 
There  is  in  this  city 
Alfo  well  known  to  men 
The  venerable  St  Cudberth, 

An4 


Diefe  Stadt  ist  beruihmt. — In  dem  ganzen  Reiche  dei-  Britten. — ;DerWeg  zu  ilir 
ist  jaehe, — Sie  ist  mit  Felfen  umgebsp, — Urid  fonderbarcn  Gewaechsen. — Die  Were 
unfliefst  fie, — Ein  Flufs  von  reiffcnden  Wellen. — Und  darin  wohnen, — Filcbc 
vieler  Arten — Die  fich  mit  den  Fluthen  vermifchen. — Und  daselbst  wachsen — 
Grofse  .Waelder ; — In  den  Auen   wobnen — Mgincherley  wilde   Thiere, — In  den 

tiefen     Thaelern — Unzaehlige    Rehe,    (Tbiere). Es    ist    in     dieser    Stadt — ^ 

Auch    den   Menschen    wohlbekannt — Der  ehrwuirdige    heil.  Cudberth, — Und 
'  des 


And  if  it  be  objecSed,  that  many  of  thcfe  words  Ijiiewife  bezjr  strong  marks  of 
affinity  to  the  modem  Englifti,  I  must  remind  the  reader  of  my  aim,  whicb  i^not  to 
deny  this,  but  to  prove,  that  contrary  to  the  opinion  of  many  Antiquaries,  the 
German  very  probably  is  the  mother,  and  not  'njifer  language  of  the  AnglorSaxon, 
Hence  the  manifest  abfurdity,  in  Didlionaries,  of  giving  references  to  either,  as 
two  different  languages,  efpecially  in  words  whofe  origin  cannot  be  well  afcertained 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG. 


XIX 


And  thes  claene  cynlnges  heo- 
^     fud. 

Ofualdes  Engla  leo 
And  Aidan  bifcop 
Aedberth  and  Aedfrid. 
Aethele  geferes 
Is  therinne  mid  heom 
Aethelwold  bifceop 
And  breoma  bocera  Beda^ 
And  Boifil  abbet. 
De  claene  Cuthberht. 
On  gichethe  lerde  luftum. 

And  he  is  lara  uuel  genom. 

Eardlath  aeth  them  eadigC. 
In  in  them  mynftre. 
Vnarimeda  reliqua 
-Thaer  raonige  uundrum  guuur- 

thath 
The   uurita  feggeth 
Mid    then  drihtnes    uuerdomes 
bideth. 


And   the   head     of  the    chafte 

king. 
Ofwald,  the  lion  of  the  Angli, 
And  Aidan,  the  bifhop, 
Aedbert  at-id  Aedfrid 
The  noble  affociates. 
There  is  in  it  alfo 
Aethelwold,  the  bifliop. 
And  the  celebrated  writer  Bedc 
And  the  abbot  Boifil, 
By  whom  the  chafte  Cudberth 
In  his  youth  was   gratis  inftruc- 

ted. 
Who    alfo  well    received   thefe 

inftru6tions. 
There  reft  with  thefe  Saints, 
In  the  inner  part  of  the  rainfter 
Relicks  without  number, 
Which  perform  many  miracles, 

As  the  Chronicles  tell  us. 
And  (which)    await  with  them 
the  judgment  of  the  Lord, 


des  keuschen  Koeniges  Haupt. — Oswald,  der  Aneeln  Loewe, — und  der  Bischof 
Aidan, — Aedbert  imd  Aedfrid, — Die  edlei)  Gefaehrten. — Es  ist  darin  mit  ihnen 
— Der  Bifchof  Aethelwold. — Und  der  beruihmte  Schriftsteller  Bcda. — Und  der 
Abt  Boifil^ — Der  den  kcufclien  Cuthberth — In  der  Jugend  umsonst  unterrichtete, 
— Wekher  auch  die  l.ehre  fehr  g;ut  annalim. — Es  ruhen  bey  diefen  Heiligen,— 
hi  dcm  Innern  dcs  Muinsters, — Unzaehlige  Reliquien, —  Wclche  viclc  Wunder 
■\virken, — W^ie  die  Schrilteu  I'agen — Und  (welchc)  mit  ihaen  das  Gcricht  des 
Herrn  ervvarteu. 


Of  this  period,  we  muft  finally  remark,  that  from  the  time  of 
Alfkld,  the  old  Anglo  Saxon  charadlers  were  gradually  ex- 
changed for  the  French  letters  of  the  Alphabet.  There  is 
little  doubt,  that  the  nation  had  already  made  fuch  progrefs  in 
tafte,  or  intelleftual  difcernment,  as  to  become  fenfible  of  the 
want  of  fymmetry  in  the  Anglo-Saxon,  when  compared  to 
the  Roman  charatlers  ;  and  that  they  readily  gave  the  pre- 
ference to  the  French  letters,  in  which  thofe  of  Rome  were 
fomewhat  more  faithfully  copied. 

Ingulf  *,  as  quoted  by  Spelman  in  the  work  above  men- 
tioned, 

*  Abbot  of  Croyland.  and  autlior  of  the  hiffory  of  that  Abbey,  was  bom  in 
London  A.  D.  1030— This  excellent  Chronicler  treats  from  the  foundation  of  that 

Abbey, 


XT 


tHREE   PHILOLOGICAL 


tloncd,  Gspreffes  himfelf  upon  this  adoption  of  foreign  dsa- 
raclers,  in  the  following  lines  :  '*  Manus  Saxonica  ab  omni- 
*«  bus  Saxonibus  et  Merciis  ufque  ad  tempofa  Regis  Aelfrcdl, 
•*  qui  per  Gallicanos  Doftores  omnibus  chirographis  ufitata  a 
•'  tempore  difti  Domini  Regis  defuetudine  viluerat  (vilipen- 
**  derat)  ;  et  manus  Gallicana  quia  magis  Icgibilis,  et  afpedui 
«*  perdeledabilis  praeceilebat,  frequentius  indies  apud  Anglos 
•^  omnes  complacebat." 

Yet  this  was  the  cafe  only-  in  a  verj  gradual  progreffion, 
correfpoading  with  the  improvement  and  diftulion  of  tafte  ; 
for  long  after  Alfred's  time,  the  Anglo-^axon  chara^lers 
continued  to  be  ufed,  both  in  public  and  private  writings. 

III.  NoRMANNic  Saxon  Period. 
(Normannic  Anglo-Saxojt.^  - 

This  aera  extends  from  the  invafion  of  the  Normans,  under 
William  the  Conqueror,  in  the  year  1066,  to  the  beginning 
6f  the  thirteenth  century,  beyond  the  reign  of  Henry  II. 
"who  died  in  11 89  ;  and  confequently  comprehends  a  feries  of 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty  years. 

The  {late  of  the  Erglilli  language,,  during  this  period,  can- 
Hot  be  better  defcribed  than  in  the  words  of  the  learned  and 
'p-^rfpicuous  Warton,  in  his  "  Hijlory  ofEngliJJj  Poetry ^ from 
the  cloje  of  the  eleventh^  to  the  commencement  of  the  eighteenth 
tintiiry  ^'*  pag.  1.  &.  feq. 

"  i  he  Norman  Saxon  dialefl  formed  a  language  extremely 
barbarous,  irregular,  and  intraftable  ;  and  confequently  promifes 
no  very  ftriking  fpeclmens  in  any  fpecies  of  coropofition.  Its  fub- 
ft-»nce  was  the  Danifh-Saxon  adulterated  with  French.  The  Saxort 
indeed,  a  language  fubfiiling  on  uniform  principles,  and  polifli- 
cd  by   poets    and  theologifls,    however  corrupted  by  the    Danes, 

had 


Jibbej,  664,  to  the  year  109 1 ;  he  introduces  much  ot  the  general  hiftory  of  the 
kiiigdom,  with  a  variety  of  curious  iinecdotes  that  are  no  whei-e  cUe  to  be  found.— 
Ingulf  died  of  ihc gout^  at  his  Aljhey,  A.  D.  1109,  in  the  79th  year  of  his  age  — 
— It  is  a  matter  of  much  regret,  that  men  of  his  found  judgment  and  good  lenfe 
(in  if  ite  of  the  fuperftitlous  abfurdities  which  flain  the  annals  of  that  age)  did  not 
tl;emielv€&  commence  writing  and  cultivating  their  native  language  ;  inftead  of 
«irudging  in  monafiic  Latin.  The  certain  progrefs  of  both  language,  and  know- 
leJge,  la  the  former  cafe,  is  beyond  every  eakuiation^of  the  Moderns.        W. 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.  xxl 

had  much  perfptcuity,  ftrength,  and  harmony  *  :  but  the  Ffench, 
imported  by  the  Conqueror  and  his  people,  was  a  confufed  jargon 
of  Teutonic,  Gaulifli,  and  vitiated  L^tin.  In  this  fludluating  ftate 
of  our  national  fpeech,  the  French  predominated.  Even  before  the 
conquefl,  the  Sax'on  language  began  to  fall  into  contempt,  and  the 
French,  or  Frankifh,  to  be  fubftitutcd  in  its  (lead  f  :  a  circum- 
ftance,  which  at  once  facilitated  and  foretold  the  Norman  accef- 
fion.  In  the  year  652,  it  was  the  common  praftice  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxons,  to  fend  their  youth  to  the  monafteries  of  France  for  edu- 
cation :  and  not  only  the  language,  but  the  manners  of  the  French 
were  eftcemed  the  moll  polite  accomplidiments.  In  the  reign  of 
Edward  the  Confeffor,  the  refort  of  Normans  to  the  Englifli  court 
was  fo  frequent,  that  the  affedlation  of  imitating  the  Frafikifh  cuf- 
toms  became  almoft  univerfal  :  and  even  the  lower  clafs  of  people 
were  ambitious  of  catching  the  Frankifh  idiom  %',  It  was  no  dif- 
ficult taflv.  for  the  Norman  lords  to  banifti  that  language,  of  which 
the  natives  began  to  be  abfurdly  afhamed.  The  new  invaders 
corartianded  the  laws  to  be  admlniftered  in  French  J.  Many  char- 
ters of  monafleries  were  forged  in  Latin  by  the  Saxon  monks,  for 
the  prefent  fecurity  of  their  poffeffions,  in  confequence  of  that  a- 
verfion  which  the  Normans  profeffed  to  the  Saxon  tongue  ||.  Even 

c  chil- 


*  Becaufc  the  Danidi  was  intimately  related  to  the  Old  Saxon  ;  hence  the  lan- 
guage, which  had  originated  in  a  mixture  of  both,  neceffarily  preferved  fomc 
identity  (i  e.  fimilarity  and  uniformity  of  flrud:Ure.)  A. 

f  Probably  this  was  the  cafe  only  among  the  higher  ranks  of  foclcty ;  for 
France,  indeed,  at  this  early  period,  was  already  confidered  as  the  School  of  the 
Sciences,  and  the  legillatrix  of  t  ifte  to  the  reft  of  Europe.  A. 

\  This  flrange.  bias  feems,  at  prefent,  to  have  fhifted  its  ground,  and  to  afFcA 
principally  the  higher  clafl'es  of  fociety  ; — tlie  highsjl,  or  ditStatorial,  order  itfelf 
I'inJiviJuallyJ  not  excepted.  Thus  our  cars  are  puUicly  annoyed  with  terms  and 
phrafes,  which  even  the  Germans,  of  late  years,  ftigmatize  with  the  appellation  ot 
neio-franhijh. — The  mai^re  race  of  interpreters  and  tranflators,  by  profcfTion,  alfo 
contribute  their  fhare  in  corrupting  the  Engliih  language  with  new  modelled 
words  and  idioms,  the  meaning  of  which  they  thcmfelves  (not  rarely)  miftake  and 
mifapply  ;  but  to  what  clafs  of  fociety  thefe  individuals  muft  be  referred,  I  (hall,  in 
this  place,  not  attempt  to  decide.  And  as  I  am  not  defirous  of  advancing  ground- 
lefs  affertions,  or  of  extending  them,  if  they  be  founded,  to  every  refpeiftive  indi- 
vidual, without  exception  ;  I  mull  requeft  the  difpaflionate  reader,  to  turn  over 
a  few  Numbers  of  the  Monthly,  xSxo.  Analytical,  the  Critical,  the  £>ig I ijh  or  ^ny 
other  Rcvieiv,  in  which  the  lateft  tranflations  from  the  French,  form  the  object  of 
criticifni ;  and  his  curiofity  will  be  frequently,  and  amply,  gratified. 

W, 

§  But  there  is  a  precept  in  Saxon  from  William  the  Firft,  to  the  Sheriff  of 
Sommerfctfhire.    Hides.  Thu.  I.  P.  I.  pag.  106.  —See  alfo  PraJ'at.  ibid.  p.  xv. 

II  The  Normans, 'who  pratfli fed  every  fpccious  expedient  to  plunder  the  nionk«, 
demanded  a  light  of  the  written  evidences  of  their  lands.  The  monks  well  knew, 
tUat  it  would  huve  been  ufelefs  or  impolitic  to  have  produced  thcfe  evidences,  or 

(hartcrij 


-xxli  THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

children  at  fchool  were  forbidden  to  read  in  their  native  language, 
and  inftiudted  in  a  knowledge  of  the  Norman  only.  In  the  mean 
time,  we  fliould  have  fome  regard  to  the  general  and  political 
ilate  of  the  nation.  The  natives  were  fo  univcrfally  reduced  to 
the  loweft  condition  of  negled  and  indigence,  that  the  Englijh  name 
became  a  term  of  reproach  :  and  feveral  generations  elaplcd,  before 
one-family  of  Saxon  pedigree  was.  raiCed  to  any  diftinguilhed  ho- 
nours, or  could  fo  much  as  attain  the  rank  of  baronage.  Among 
other  inftances  of  that  abfolute  and  voluntary  fubraiffion,  with 
which  our  Saxon  ancellors  received  a  foreign  yoke,  it  appears 
that  they  fufFered  their  hand-writing  to  fall  into  difcredit  and 
disufe,  which,  by  degrees  became  fo  difficult  and  obfolete,  that 
few  befide  the  oldell  men  could  underltand  the  chara6lers.  In 
the  year  1095,  Wolstan,  bifliop  of  Worcefter,  was  depofed  by 
the  arbitrary  Normans:  it  was  ohjeiied  againil  him,  that  he  was 
"  a  fuperannuated  Englijh  idiot,  who  could  not  /peak  French  *.  It  is 

true, 

charters,  in  the  original  Saxon  ;  as  the  Normans  not  only  did  not  underftand^  but 
■Would  h;ive  received  with  contempt,  inftruments  written  in  that  language.  Tiiere- 
"fore  the  monks  were  compelled  to  the  pious  fraud  of  forging  them  iu  Latin ;  and 
great  numbers  of  thefe  forged  Latin  charters,  till  lately  fuppofed  original,  are  ftill 
extant.  6'ctr  Spelman  in  Not.  ad.  Concil.  Anglic  p.  1^5  ;  SriLLiNGFL.  Orig.  Ecclts. 
Britann.  p.  1 4  Mar  sham,  Prafat.  a  J  Dugd.  And  WhARTON  Angl.  Sacr.  YoL  11. 
^Ix'IonaJi.  Pnefat  p.  ii.  &  feq — See  alio  Ingulfh,  p.  513, — Launov  and  Mabil- 
LON  have  treated  this  fubjcffl  with  great  learnhig  and  penetration. 

■  *  J[fatt.   Paris. fub  ann. — ^as  quoted   by  Warton  ;  p.  4. When  in  our 

days  the  converfation  turns  upon  the  comparative  excellence  of  languages,  I 
heg  leave  (o  afe :  ''  are  the  modern  nalers,  tutors,  or  governeflcs  (of  and  from 
France)  aiituated  by  a  tnore  difcreet,  by  a  Icl's  haughty  ipirit,  than  the  Normans 
were  Eight  Hundred  veaks  ago  ? — This  queftion  is  eaiily  anfwered.  For, 
although  it  is  fortunately  not  in  their  power  to  make  us  adopt  //;  a  mafi  their 
ncw-fuiigled  tongue,  by  the  fame  means  which  have  induced  its  and  other  na- 
tions to  adopt  inflruments,  machines  and  expedients  formerly  unknown,  or  un- 
p.-aSiifed,  in  the  art  of  war ;  yet  we  are  already  invaded  by  luch  numbers  of  a  race 
(however  dijhent  in  degree,  ftill  of  the  fame  kind)  as  reniLrs  the  confequences  of 
our  exceflive  indulgence  every  day  more  alarmir.g.  I  am  led  to  this  reflcclion, 
at  a  time,  when  I  ice  the  legiflaiure  itfelf  fjriouily  employed  iu  concerting  mea- 
furv  s,  t:j  (.bviaii:  thefe  imfieiiditig  national  evils  — As  a  weli-wiiher,  and  inhabitant, 
of  this  country,  I  hope  Providence  will  g^ide  the  councils  of  the  nation,  upon  "a 
fubjcdc  of  the  utmoll  importance,  'f  hofc  who  confider  thefe  fymptoms  of  an  ap- 
proaching metamvrpL'Jis-ds.  of  little  importance,  plainly  manifcft  their  unacquaintance 
with  the  Jiiftory  of  man  and  nations.  They  fecm  to  forget,  that  the  Anglo- 
S^xons Jirjf  came  to  Britain  with  no  hoftile  intentions ;  that  they  were  Invited, 
only  to  aiiift  the  o^JprClTed  Britons  in  repelling  their  rapacious  enemies ;  and  that 
revolutions,  if  excited  and  aided  by  foreign  allies,  were  ahvays  attended  with  con- 
fequences,  equally   eertain    and  fatal  to   the  Natives ;  however  imperfedtly  and 

gradually  they  were  introduced. To  return,  from  this  involuntary  digreffion, 

tp  tl;e  fubjeifi:  of  l.inguage,  I  {hall  conclude  this  Note  with  a  remark  made  by  a 
■veteran  in  tiie  philofophy  of  grammar  :  '  'i  iiat  the  freiub,  v\  ith  all  its  eafe  and 
"  verfatiiity,  is  a  imnoioi.ous  language  \  and  that  thole  alone  who  underftand  it,  can 
"  difcover  the  greati  ^vantage  the  Englijh  h^v/^  over  that  lanryuage  by  their  ac, 
'\-cent,  pbiticuurly  in  tl.c  article  cf  vcrSficatlon."  W. 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.  xxUI 

true,  that  In  fome  of  tlie  monafteries,  particnlarlj  at  Croyland 
and  Tavillocke,  founded  by  Saxon  princes,  there  were  regular  pre- 
ceptors in  the  Saxon  language  :  but  this  inftitution  was  fuffered 
to  remain  after  the  conqueft,  as  a  matter  only  of  intereft  and  ne- 
ceffity.  The  religious  could  not  otherwife  have  underftood  their 
oiiginal  charters.  William's  fucceiTjr,  Henry  the  Firll,  gave  an 
inftrument  of  confirmation  to  William,  Archbifliop  of  Canterbury, 
which  was  written  in  the  Saxon  language  and  letters.  Yet  this 
is  almoft  a  Cngle  expmple.  That  monarch's  motive  was  perhaps 
political :  and  he  feems  to  have  pradlifed  this  expedient  with  a 
view  of  obliging  his  queen,  who  was  of  Saxon  lineage  ;  or  with  a 
defign  of  flattering  his  EngliQi  fubjefts,  and  of  fecuring  his  title, 
already  ftreugthened  by  a  Saxon  match,  in  confequence  of  fo  fpe- 
cious  and  popular  an  artifice." 

"  It  was  a  common  and  ind-eed  a  very  natural  praflice,  for  the 
tranfcribers  of  Saxon  books,  to  change  the  Saxon  orthography  for 
the  Norman,  and  to  fubilitute  in  the  place  of  the  original  Saxon, 
Norman  words  and  phrafes.  A  remarkable  inftance  of  this  liberty, 
which  fometimes  perplexes  and  mifleads  the  critics  in  Anglo-Saxon 
literature,  appears  in  a  voluminous  colleftion  of  Saxon  homilies, 
preferved  in  the  Bodleian  library,  and  written  about  the  time  of 
Henry  the  Second.  It  was  with  the  Saxon  charafters,  as  with 
the  fignature  of  the  crofs  in  public  deeds  j  which  were  changed 
into  the  Norman  mode  of  feals  and  fubj'criptions.' 

*  Among  the  manufcripts  of  Digby  in  the  Bodleian  library  at 
Oxford,  we  find  a  religious  or  moral  Ode,  conlifling  of  one  hun- 
dred and  ninety-one  ilanzas,  which  the  learned  Hickes  places  juft 
after  the  conqueft:  but  as  it  contains  few  Norman  terms,  I  am 
inclined  to  think  it  of  rather  higher  antiquity.  The  following 
ftanza  is  a  fpecimen  : 

*  Sende  God  biforen  him  mr^n 

The  while  he  may  to  hevene, 

For  betere  is  on  elmeffe  biforen 

Thanne  ben  after  fevene." 
That  is,  "  Let  a  man  fend  his  good  woiks  before  him  to  heaven 
while  he    can  j  for  one  alms-giving  before  death  is  of  more  value 
than  feven  afterwards."    The  verfes  perhaps  might  have  been  thus 
written  as  two  ^alexandrines : 

'  Send  God  biforen  him  man  the  while  he  may  to  hevene. 
For  betere  is  on  elmeffe  biforen,  than  ben  after  fevene.' 

'  Yet  alternate  rhyming,  applied  without  regularity,  and  as  rhymes 
accidentally  prcfented  thcmfelves,  was  not  uncommon  in  our  early 
poetry.' 

Hickes  and  Warton  have  printed  a  fatirical  poem  on  mo- 

c  2  naftic 


XXIV  THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

naftic  life,  in  which  the  Saxon  is  remarkably  adulterated  by 
the  Normannic,  and  which  muft  have  been  written  foon  after 
the  incurfions  of  the  Normans,  or  at  leaft  prior  to  the  reign  of 
flenry  II.  The  poet  begins  this  lingular  performance,  with 
defcribing  the  land  of  idolence  or  luxury : 

Fur  in  fee,  bi  weft  Spaynge, 

Is  a  lend  ihote  Cokaygne  : 

Ther  nis  lond  under  hevenrlche  (i). 

Of  wel  of  godnis  hit  iliche. 

Thoy  paradis  bi  miri  (2)  and  biigt  J 

Cokaygn  is  of  fairir  light. 

What  is  ther  in  paradis 

But  grafs,  and  flure,  and  grenerls  ? 

Thoy  ther  be  joy,  and  gret  dute(3), 

Ther  nis  met,  bot  frute. 

Ther  nis  halle,  bure  (4),  no  bench  j 

Bot  watir  manis  thurfl  to  quench,  &.c. 
*  In  the  following  lines,'  fays  Warton,  *  there  is  a  vein  of  fatl- 
ilcal   imagination  and  forae  talent  at  defcription.  The   luxury  of 
the  monks  is  reprcfented  under  the  idea  of  a  monaftcry  conftrufted 
of  various  kinds  of  delicious  and  coftly  viands,' 

Ther  Is  a  wel  fair  abbei. 

Of  white  monkes  and  of  grei, 

Ther  beth  boures  and  halles  : 

All  of  pafteus  beth  the  walles, 

Of  rieis  o£  fiffc,  and  a  rich  met, 

The  likefuUift  that  man  mai  et. 

Fluren  cakes  beth  the  fchingles  (5^  alle, 

Of  church,  cloifter,  hours  ?nd  halle. 

The  pinnes  (6)  beth  fat  podinges  ,^ 

Rich  met  to  princes  and  to  kinges.— -• 

Ther  is  a  cloyfter  fair  and  ligt, 

Brod  and  lang  of  fembli  figt. 

The  pilers  of  that  cloifter  alle 

Beth  iturned  of  criftale, 

With  harlas  and  capital 

Of  grene  jafpe  and  red  coral. 

In  the  praer  is  a  tree 

Swithe  likeful  for  to  fe, 

The  rote  is  gingeur  and  galingale. 

The 

I  The  cdeftial  empire,  Sax.  2  Merry,  chearful.  «•  Although  Paradife  is 
chearful  and  bright,  Coiayne  is  a  more  beautiful  place."  3  Pleafure.  4  Buttery  ; 
or  the  roem  where  provifions  arc  laid  up.  5  Shingles,  ♦'  The  tiles,  or  COTcring 
oj   the  howJTe,  aic  of  rich  cakes."  6  The  pinnacles. 


ESSAYS,   BY    ADELUNG.  xxr 

The  fiouns  betli  al  fed  wale. 
Trie  maces    beth  the  flure, 
The  rind  canel  of  fwete  odure  : 
The  frute  gilofre  of  gode  fraakke, 
Of.cucubes  ther  nis  no  lakke. — 
Ther  beth  iiii  wiUis  (^)  in  the  abbei 
Of  trade  and  halwey. 
Of  baurae  and  eke  pieraent, 
Ever  emend  (8)  to  rigt  rent  (9)  j 
Of  thai  ftrerais  al  the  inolde 
Stonis  pretiufe  (10)  and  golde, 
Ther  is  faphir,  and  uniune, 
Carbuncle  and  afliune, 
Smaragde,  lugre,  and  praffiune, 
Beril,  onyx,  topofiune, 
Amethifte  and  crifolite, 
Calcedun  and  epetite  (n). 
Ther  beth  birddes  mani  and  fale 
Throftill,  thruifle,  and  nigtingale, 
Chalandre,  and  wodwale, 
And  othir  briddes  without  tale. 
That  ftinteth  never  bi  her  migt 
Miri  to  fing  dai  and  nigt,    ^ 

'[Nonnulla  defunt.'] 
Yite  I  do  yow  mo  to  witte, 
The  gees  iroftid  on  the  fpitte, 
Fleey  to  that  abbai,  god  hit  wot,  ' 

And  gredith  (12),  gees  al  bote  al  bote,  &c, 

*  Our  author  then  makes  a  pertinent  tranfition  to  a  convent  of 
nuns  J  which  he  fuppofes  to  be  very  commodioufly  fituated  at  no 
great  diftance,  and  in  the  fame  fortunate  region  of  indolence,  eafe 
»nd  affluence.* 

An  other  abbai  is  ther  bi 
For  foth  a  gret  nunnerie  ; 
Up  a  river  of  fwet  milk 
Whar  is  plente  grete  of  lilk. 
When  the  fummeris  dai  is  bote, 
The  yung  nunnes  takith  a  bote 

And 


7  Fountains.  8.  Running.  Sax.  9.  Courfe.  Sax.  10.  The  Arabian  Philofophy 
imported  into  Europe,  was  full  of  the  dodlrine  of  precious  ftones.  11.  Our  old 
poets  are  never  fo  happy  as  when  they  can  get  into  a  catalogue  of  things  or  names, 
^Warton.)     1%.  Crieth,    Callo'frane, 


xxvi  THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

And  doth  ham  forth  in  that  river 
Both  with  oris  and  with  ftere  : 
Whan  hi  beth  fur  from  the  abbei 
Hi  makith  him  nakid  for  to  plei. 
And  leith  dune  in  to  the  brimme 
And  doth  him  fleilich  for  to  fwirame  : 
The  yung  monkes  that  hi  feeth' 
Hi  doth  ham  up  and  forth  he  fleeth, 
And  comith  to  the  nunnes  anon, 
And  euch  monk  him  takith  on, 
And  fnellich  (13)  berith  forth  har  prei 
To  the  mochill  grei  abbei  (  14), 
And  techith  the  hunnes  an  oreifun 
With  jamblcus  (15)  up  and  dun  *. 

•  This  poem  was  defignedto  be  fang  at  public  feflivals  :  a  prac- 
tice which  was  then  very  common  j  and  concerning  which  it  may 
be  fufficient  to  remark  at  prefent,  that  a  Jocularor,  ox  Bard ^  was  an 
officer  belonging  to  the  court  of  William  the  Conqueror.' 

*  Another  Norman-Saxon  poem  cittd  by  the  fame  induftrioBS 
antiquary  (Hick.es),  is  entitled  "  The  Life  of  St  Margaret.'* 
The  rtrufture  of  its  verlification  confiderably  differs  from  that  ia 
the  laft  mentioned  piece,  and  is  like  the  French  Alexandrines, 
But  I  am  of  opinion,  that  a  paufe,  or  divifion,  was  intended  in  the 
middle  of  every  verfe  j  and  in  this  refpefl.  Its  verfiflcation  re- 
fembles  alfo  that  of  Albion's  England,  or  Dravton's  Polyalbion, 
■which  was  a  Ipecies  very  common  about  the  reign  of  Queen  E!i- 
fabeth.  The  rhymes  are  alfo  continued  to  every  fourth  line. 
It  appears  to  have  been  written  about  the  time  of  the  crufades. 
It  begins  thus : 

Olde  ant  "  yonge  I  priet  b  ou,  our  foltes  for  to  lete, 
Thinketh  on  god  thatyefou  wite,  our  funnes  to  bete. 
Here  I  mai  tellen  ou,  wit  wordes  faire  and  fwete. 
The  vie  '^  of  one  maiden  was  hoten  '^  Margarete. 
Hire  fader  was  a  patriae,  as  ic  ou  tellen  may, 
In  Auntioge  wif  eches*'   I  in  the  falfe  lay, 
Deve  godes/  ant  dombe,  he  fervid  nit  and  day, 
So  deden  mony  othere  that  fingeth  welaway. 
Theodolius  was  is  nome  on  Criils  ne  levede  he  noutt, 

He 


13.  Qnick,  quickly.  Gallo-Franc.      14.  To  the  great  Abbey  of  Grey  Monks. 
15  Lafcivious  motions.     Gambols.     Ft.  Gambiller. 

*  HiCKES.  TIjefaur.  I.  Part.  I.  p.  231.  feq. 
*  a   And.    b  I  direct.  Fr.    «  I   advife  you,   our,    &c.    e  Life.   Fr.    d  Called 
&a%on.  eChofe  a  wife.  Sax.    "He  was  married  in  Antioch.  /  Deaf  gods,  &c. 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.         xxvii 

"Be  levede  on  tlie  falfe  godes,  that  weren  with  honden  wroutt, 
Tho  that  child  fculde  criftine  ben  it  com  well  in  thoutt, 
Ebed  wen  J"  it  were  ibore,  to  dethit  were  ibroutt,  &c. 

*  In  the  fequel,  Olibrios,  lord  of  Antioch,  who  is  called' a  Sa- 
racen, falls  in  love  with  Margaret  :  but  flie  being  a  chriftian, 
and  a  candidate  for  canonization,  rejefts  his  folicitations,  and  is 
thrown  into  prifon.*  » 

Meiden  Margarete  one  nitt  in  prifon  lay 
Ho  com  biforn  Olibrius  on  that  other  dai. 
Meiden  Margarete,  lef  up  upon  my  lay. 
And  Ihu  that  thou  leveft  on,  thou  do  him  al  awey. 
Lef  on  me  ant  be  my  wife,  ful  wel  the  raai  fpede. 
Auntioge  and  Afie  fcaltou  han  to  mede  : 
Ciculauton  l>  and  purpel  pall  fcaltou  have  to  wede  : 
With  all  the  metes  of  my  lond  ful  vel  I  fcal  the  fede* 

*  This  piece  was  printed  by  Hickes,  from  a  manufcript  in 
Trinity-college  library  at  Cambridge.  It  feems  to  belong  to  the 
manufcript  metrical  Lives  of  the  Saints,  which  form  a  very  con- 
fiderable  volume,  and  A'ere  probably  tranflated  or  paraphrafed 
from  Latin  or  French  profe  into  Englifli  rhyme,  before  the  year 
1200.  We  are  fure  that  they  were  written  after  the  year  1169, 
as  they  contain  the  Life  of  Saint  Thomas  of  Becket.  In  the 
JBodleian  library  are  three  manufcript  copies  of  thefe  Lives  of 
THE  Saints,  in  each  of  which  the  life  of  St.  Margaret  occurs  j 
but  it  is  not  always  cxadtly  the  fame  with  this  printed  by  Hickes. 
And  on  the  whole,  the  Bodleian  Lives  feera  inferior  in  point  of 
antiquity*' 

Towards  the  concluiion  of  this  period,  true  poetry  begins 
to  flouriili  in  England  as  well  as  in  Germany,  fome  features 
of  which  are  already  difcoverable  in  the  preceding  poems. 
Yet,  withall,  the  Danifli-Saxon,  and  probably  alfo  the  Britifh- 
Saxon  bards  can  claim  little  more  merit  than  that  of  making 
rhymes,  and  frequently  only  of  writing  abrupt  fentences  in 
profe.  To  prove  this,  I  fliall  only  quote  (the  two  firll  flanzas 
of)  a  Normannic-Saxon  Ballad  *,  which  is  full  of  alliteration, 
and  has  a  burthen  or  chorus  : 

Blow 


g  In  bed.     fj  Cheddaton.  See  Obf.  Fair.  Q_1. 194.  (Warton.) 
*  Warton    obferves  in  his   "  Hiftory  of  Englilh  Poetry,"  that   this   is  the 
^arliejl  EngViJh   loiis-fong,  he  could  diicover  ;  that  it  is  among  the  Harlelan  manu- 
fcripts  in  the  Britilh  Mufeum ;  and  that  he  \voul3  place  it  before,  or  aboutj  the 
y£ar  laoo. 


xxx'm      THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

Blow  northerne  wynd,  fent 

Thou  me  my  fuetynge  ;  blow 

Northerne  wynd,  blou,  blou,  blou. 

Ich  ot  a  burde  in  boure  bryht 

That  fully  femly  rs  on  fyht, 

Menfkful  maiden  of  myht, 

Feire  ant  fre  to  fonde. 

In  all  this  wurhliche  won, 

A  bnrde  of  blod  and  of  bon, 

Never  a  zete  y  nufte  l>  non, 

Luffomore  in  Londe.     B/oiv,  &c. 

With  lokkes  c  lefliche  and  longe. 

With  front  ant  face  fair  to  fonde  ; 

With  murthes  monie  mote  heo  monge 

That  brid  fo  breme  in  boure  j 

With  loffum  eie  grete  and  gode, 

Weth  browen  blifstoll  undirhode, 

He  that  reft  him  on  the  rode 

Ihat  leflych  ]yf  honoure.     Blond  &c.  &c. 
In  a  truly  paftoral  vein,  a  lover  *  thus  addreffes  his  miftrcfs, 
■whom  he  fuppofes  to  be  the    moll   beautiful  girl,  *'  Bituenc 
Lyncolne  and  Ljndefeye,  Northampton  and  Lounde  f." 

When  the  nytenhale  finges  the  wodes  waxen  grene, 
Lef,  gras,  and  blofme,  fpringes  in  Avril  y  wene. 
And  love  is  to  myn  harte  gon  with  one  fpere  fo  kene 
Nyht  and  day  ray  blod  hit  drynkes  myn  hart  deth  me  tene. 

*  The  following    verfes  have  nearly  the  fame    meafur«,  and  are 
not  unpleafing  to  the  ear  :' 

My  deth  y  love,  my  lyf  ich  hate  for  a  levcdy  lliene, 
Heo  is  brith  fo  daies  liht,  that  is  on  me  wel  fene. 
Al  y  falewe  fo  doth  the  lef  in  fomir  when  hit  is  grene, 
Zef  mi  thoht  helpeth  me  noht  to  whom  sdial  I  mene  ? 
Ich  have  loved  at  this  yere  that  y  may  love  na  more, 
Ich  have  fiked  moni  fyh,  lemon,  for  thin  ore, 

.  ray  love  never  the  ner  and  thatme  rcweth  fore  j 
Suete  lemon,  thenck  on  me  ich  have  loved  thefore, 
Suete  lemon,  I  prcye  the,  of  love  one  fpeche. 
While  y  ly  ve  in  worlde  fo  wyde  other  nill  I  feche,  J. 

If 

a  Yet.    b.  Knevir  not.     c  Lively,    d  Sic. 

*  Probably  of  the  reign  of  King  John. 

f  Loiidon.  J  Mas.  HarL  225;^.  fol.  Membran.  f.  73.  b. — The  pieces  cited 
from  this  manufcript,  appear  to  be  oi  the  hand  writing  of  the  reign  oi  Euw«ii 
thcfiril,  (Warton.) 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.         xxii 

If  we  attempt  to  trace  the  progrefs  of  a  language,  we  fliall 
always  find  it  connefted  with  the  intelledlual  improvement  of 
a  people  ;  for  language,  in  every  inftanCe,  is  the  firft  objeft, 
in  which  national  cultivation  becomes  mauifeft.  To  deter- 
mine this,  requires  the  moil  accurate  knowledge  of  the  gra- 
dual advances  made  by  a  people  in  manners,  arts,  and  fciences, 
together  with  a  very  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  more 
ancient  modes  of  fpeaking  and  writing,  as  well  as  with  the 
changes  produced  in  them,  by  thefe  refpeftive  improvements. 
In  this  progrefs,  every  nation  keeps  its  peculiar  path  ;  a  path 
marked  by  the  colledive  number  of  internal  and  external  cir- 
cumilances,  the  particular  knowledge  of  which  is  indifpenfible 
to  a  philological  inquirer. 

In  Germany,  the  old  unpoliflied  language  of  the  country 
was  improved  through  its  own  refources  ;  hence  the  progrefs 
towards  its  refinement  was  necelTarily  flow.  In  France,  the 
language  of  the  natives  was  formed  by  a  mixture  with  that 
of  the  Romans,  yet  in  fuch  a  manner,  as  made  the  latter  pre- 
vail in  that  mixture  ;  hence  its  improvement  was  uncommon-  ' 
ly  rapid,  becaufe  the  Roman  was  already  a  polifhed  language. 
In  England,  the  native  language  received  improvements  by  a 
mixture  with  the  French  ;  yet  the  former  ftill  remained  the 
prevailing  language  :  thus  it  made  more  rapid  progrefs  to- 
wards   its  refinement  than   that  of  the  German,  but  flower 

than  that  of   the  French Yet   we  poiVefs  no  hillory  of  any 

language  executed,  nor  even  attempted,  in  this  progrej/ive 
manner.  And  as  the  natives  of  Britain  have  hitherto  ne-- 
gle6led  to  trace  the  gradual  improvements  of  their  language,  it 
can  with  lefs  juft;ice  be  expeftcd,  that  /  fhould  enquire  into 
the  path,  which  they  followed.  Nor  will  it  be  reqirired  of  ;«£>, 
to  point  out  minutely  the  various  changes  that  have  taken 
place  in  the  EngliJh  language,  and  to  liate  the  caufes,  or  the 
origin,  of  thofe  changes. 

IV.  French-Saxon  ;  or  English  Period. 

This  is  not  only  the  longefl;,  but  alfo  the  mod  remarkable 
period  in  the  literary  hillory  of  England  :  it  begins  with  the 
thirteenth  Century,  and  eitends  to  the  prefent  time. — The 
Danifli-Saxon  language,  in  the  preceding  period,  being  cor- 
rupted by  the  Normannic,  now  begins  to  unite  with  the  more 

d  modern 


XXX  THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

modern  French  ;  to  adopt  llkewife,  in  confequence  of  this  pre- 
cedent, many  words  from  the  Litin,  and  to  form  bj  the  affif- 
tance  of  botla  the  prefent  EnglilL  language. 

The  Normannic- Saxon  language  was  fufFered  to  fall  into 
disufe  and  contempt,  during  the  era,  of  which  we  have  lafl 
treated ;  the  pure  Normannic  now  became  the  fafhionable 
language  of  the  court,  and  of  poliflied  fociety.  This  happen- 
ed with  the  greater  "facility,  as  the  Norman  barons  and  lords 
ruled  over  England,  and  oppreiTed  its  ancient  inhabitants,  with 
unlimited  fway.  But  as  foou  as  the  power  of  the  barons, 
during  the  thirteenth  century,  be^an  to  decline  ;  as  foon  as  the 
commofis,  or  the  order  of  the  citizens,  acquired  more  autho- 
rity and  influence  ;  in  fine,  as  foon  as  England,  with  gradual 
fteps,  approached  to  its  prefent  conlHtution  ; — the  popular 
language,^  hitherto  defpifed,  reclaimed  its  due  rank  ;  it  was  a- 
gain  introduced  into  the  higher  circles,  and  thus  its  cultiva- 
tion was  the  more  eafily  and  the  more  effeftually  accomplifh- 
ed.  Still,  however,  the  vernacular  dialefl  had  been  almolt 
fupprefl'ed,  among  the  higher  clafles  of  the  nation,  by  the 
language  of  the  haughty  Normans  ;  a  circumitance  which  fuf- 
ficiently  accounts  for  its  ftrange  mixture  with  the  French. 
And  as  in  procefs  of  time,  French  manners  and  improve- 
ments found  a  more  general  reception  in  Britain,  this  mixture 
daily  inereai'ed,  not  only  through  the  reception  of  new  words, 
but  alfo  in  the  terminations  of  old  primitive  words;  and  in  the 
various  modes  of  exhibiting  and  combining  them  in  phrafes. 
In  this  manner,  indeed,  the  ground-work  of  the  language  pre- 
fervcd  its  Saxon  origin  ;  but  its  progrefs,  its  cultivation,  its 
augmentation,  and  fubfequent  refinement,  were  carried  on 
upon  the  pf  inciple  of  the  French. 

Confiilent  with  the  limits  of  this  Eflay,  I  cannot  enlarge 
upbn  the  particular  phenomena  conne6led  with  thefe  multiplied 
changes  ;  I  mull,  therefore,  content  myfelf  with  producing  a 
few  fpecimens  felected  from  the  befl:  writers  in  every  century, 
during  *this  long  and  productive  period. 

*  * 

* 

In  order  to  fill  up  a  cbafm  which  both,  Johnson  and  Adelung, 

have  left  in  this  part  of  the  hlftory  of  the  Englffh  language,  by  not 

•  entering  into  the  refpeifUve  merits  of  the  different    writers,   during 

the  middle  ages,  to  whom  we  Hand  fo  juttly  indebted  j — I  have  here 

fele6led  a  number  of  paiTages  relating  to  this  fubjcd,  frcm  a  work 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.        xxxl 

much  efteemed  at  liome,  and  ftill  more  abroad,  among  the  lo- 
vers of  Britifli  literature.  This  work,  on  account  of  its  high— 
though  comparatively  fmail — price,  is  not  in  the  hands  of  many 
readers  j  as  it  already  extends  to  a  confiderable  number  of  vo- 
lumes,, fince  its  beginning  in  1780.  It  is  the  New  Annual  Re- 
gister,, to  which  I  allude,  and  from  which  I  have  carefully  ex- 
tradted  (and  exemplified  with  a  great  variety  of  fpecimens)  thofe 
valuable  and  truly  philological  remarks,  which  the  reader  will 
find  ftated,  at  grejiter  length,  in  X.\\t  fifth,  Jtxlh,  and  following  Vo- 
lumes of  this  work,  under  the  head  of  "  yl  concife  hijlory  of  the 
flate  of  knowledge,  literature  end  tafe  in  Great  Britain.'''' — It  there- 
fore only  remains  to  add,  X.\\^t  X.\iQ  principal  part  of  this  hijlory  is 
partly  abflraded  from  the  learned  difquifitions,  partly  founded 
upon  the  hiftorical  fa61s,  which  we  find  very  perfpicuoufly,  though 
fomewhat  tedioufly,  ftated  in  "  Wartoh's  Hi/lory  of  Englijh  P02- 
Xry^''  three  Volumes,  Quarto,  London,  1770.  &  feq. 

Having  recounted  the  particular  caufes,  to  which  the  great- 
eft  alteration  and  improvement  of  religious  knowledge  in 
England  was  owing,  from  the  acceffion  of  Edward  I.  to  the 
acceffion  of  Henry  IV. ;  and  having  juftly  obferved  that  John 
WiCKLiFF  *  iiril  opened  the  underftandings  of  the  regular 
clergy  ; — the  philofophic  annalift  thus  •  proceeds  in  illuflrating 
the  fubfsquent  eiFefts  of  thefe  changes,  with  refpedl  to  the 
Hate  of  language  and  literature  in  Britain. 

,    Dlvijiyn  Flrji  ;  from  1272,  to  13997.' 
From  Edward  I.  to  Henry  IV. 

*  The  literary  revolution,  v/nich  took  place  in  the  reigns 
of  Edward  III.  and  Richard  II.  with  no  fmall  degree  of 
fplendour,  was  the  appearance  of  poetry  in  our  own  tongue. 
To  this  period  was  referved  the  honour  of  engaging  the  Mvfes 
to  fpeak  in  Englijhy  with  fuch  dignity  as  to  call  for  general 
attention  and  admiration.  We  mull  not,  however,  imagine 
that  before  this  time  no  attempts  a-t  veriification  were  made 
in  our  native  language.  The  poetical  produftions  of  the  age,  if 

d  2  V  fuch 


*  This  acute    Divine  oppofed   the    Pope's' fupremacy  in    1377,  and  was  forty 
years  after,  bifrnt  for  being  a  heretic, 

t  All  pjTi'iiges  cnclofed  within  fmgle  commas,  belong  to   the  Neiv  Annual  -5,'- 


xxxil       THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

fiich  thej  may  be  called,  were  numerous,  and  our  old  libraries 
abound  in  them.^  Previoufly  to  the  cera,  concierning  which  we 
are  treating,  the  Lives  of  the  Saints  were  written  in  verfe,  and 
many  parts  of  the  Bible  were  tranflated  in  the  fame  manner.' 

*  A  love-fong  and  fome  compofitions  of  a  mifccllaneoas  na- 
ture occur  in  the  reign  of  King  John  *.  Our  early  poetical 
efFufions  appeared  likewife,  not  unfrequently,  in  the  form  of 
fatire  ;  and  when  this  was  clothed  in  allegory,  it  was  fome- 
times  conduced  with  fuccefs.  The  objecls,  on  which  it  was 
exerted,  were  generally  the  lawyers  and  the  clergy.  But  the 
principal  efforts  of  our  yet  untutored  Mufes,  were  rhyming- 
chronicles  and  metrical  rouiances.' 

Warton,  in  the  fitfl:  Volume,  p.  43,  of  his  Hiftory,  enter- 
tains us  with  a  ballad,  or  a  fatirical  poem,  compofed  by  a  bard 
devoted  to  th,>-  court  of  Simon  of  Montfort,  Earl  of  Lei- 
ceiler,  a  powerful  Baron.  It  appeared  foon  after  the  famous 
battle' of  1264,  which  had  a  very  unhappy  iflue  for  the  king, 
and  which  is  defcribed  as  follows  : 


I. 

Slttelh  allc  ftille,  ant  herkenetK  to  mi  : 
The  kynge  of  Alemai^ne,  be  mi  leaute  {^Loyally'). 
Thritli  thoufent  pound  askede  he 
For  to  make  the  pees  (peace)  in  the  countre 
And  fo    fo  he  dude  more. 

Kichard,  thah  (  though)  thou  be  ever  tricchard  {treacherous) 
Triiflhen  ihall  thou  never  more. 

2. 
Richard  of  Alemaigne,  whil  that  he  was  kying, 
He  fpendc  all  his  trefour  opon  fwjvyng, 
Haveth  he  ncut  of  Walingford  oferlyng  (fiipertor) 
Let  hira  hab'>e,  ase  he  brew,  bale  {poifon)  to  dryng, 
Maugre  Wyndesore, 
Richard  thah  thou,  6cc. 

3-   ' 
The  kyng  of  Alemaigne  wende  do  ful  wel 
He  faifede  de  mulneifor  a  cailel, 

With 


*  A  monarch  of  a  vinditSive  and  ufurping  temper^  ■whom  the  Englifli  Baron* 
compelled  to  confirm  the  M-'gna  Cbarta,  in  ixij  ; — he  died  at  Newark,  Ojftob«r 
8,  xii6, 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.       xxslii 

With  hare  fharpe  fwerdes  he  grounde  the  flel, 
He  wende  that  the  fayles  were  mangonel 

To  help  Wyndesore. 

Richard  thah  thou,  &c.  &c.  Sec. 

*  In  the  reign  of  Edward  I.  *,  the  character  of  onr  poe- 
tical compofitions  was  confiderablj  changed.  The  minilrels 
either  fubliituted  fidlitious  adventures  for  hiftorical  traditio- 
nary fadts,  or  realitj  was  difguifed  by  the  reprefentations  of 
invention  ;  and  a  tafte  for  ornamental  exprclnon  gradually 
prevailed  over  the  rude  fimplicity  of  the  native  Englifh  phra- 
feology.  This  change  was  occafioned,  among  other  caufes, 
by  the  introduftioa  and  increafe  of  the  tales  of  chivalry.  It 
was  in  the  reign  of  Edward  II.  f,  when  the  metrical  ro- 
mances chiefly  flourifhed  ;  and  though  the  poetry  of  them 
was,  in  general,  very  rude,  imperfeft,  and  feeble,  they  oc- 
cafionall 7  exhibited  gleams  of  imagination.  One  of  them,  en- 
titled *  Ky.'ig  of  'Tarsy  has  a  warmth  of  defcription  in  certain 
paffages,  that  is  not  unlike  the  manner  of  Chaucer.  From 
ihe  produiiions  of  which  we  now  fpeak,  this  great  poet  and. 
his  cotemporaries  undoubtedly  derived  fome  advantage  ;  but 
it  was  their  acquaintance  with  Italian  literature  which  ftill 
more  enabled  them  to  produce  a  literary  revolution  in  their 
own  country.  Surprifing  effe6ls  had  been  wrought  in  Italy , 
by  the  genius  and  the  writings  of  Dante  (i)andPETRARCii(2). 
Our  Englijh  poets  were  not  equally  happy  in  their  endeavours 
to  enlighten  the  underftanding,  and  to  rehne  the  tafle  of  the 
nation.  They  had  greater  difficulties  to  contend  with,  and 
were  far  more  unfavourably  fituated  for  obtaining  a  conqueft 
over  them.  Their  llyle  was  rough,  and  the  iiarmony  of  their 
poetical  numbers  was  very  defective.  Neverthelefs  we  are 
much  indebted  to  them  for  affiduoufly  applying  to  the  Itudy 
of  their  native  language,  and  for  contributing,  in  a  confiderable 
degree,  to  its   enrichment  and  cultivation.     The   change  ef- 

feded 


*  Bom,  June  16,1139;  fucceeded  to  the  Crown,  November  16,  nyz;  re- 
duced Scotland  1299,  died  July  7,  1307;  was  buried  at  Weftminfter,  where  en 
May  2.  1774,  fome  antiquaries  examined  his  tomb,  when  they  fouul  his  corps 
unconfumed,  though  buried  466  years. 

f  This  unfortunate  Monarch  was  born  in  1284;  wa»  the  first  Prince  of  IVaLs 
afcended  the  throne,  1307  ;  was  dethroned  and  murdered  in  1327. 

(i)    Born,  1265;  died,  1321. -(2)  Fkancis  Petrarch,  born  at  .i/vis  ., 

J  304,  died,  1347. 


xxxiv       THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

fe£led  by  them  Is,  upon  the  whole,  an  important  event  in  the 
literary  hillory  of  this  country.' 

*  When  we  look  into  the  accounts  of  the  Britijh  writers, 
which  have  been   given  us  by   Leland  (3)  and  other   bio- 
graphers, and  obferve    the    number  of  perfons  whom  thefe 
biographers  have   refcued  from   oblivion,  together  with   the 
praifes  they  have  beftowed  upon  them,  as  excelling  in  almofl 
every  branch  of  knowledge,  and  only  defeftive    with  refpecl 
to  the  elegance  of  their  ftyle,  we  are  ready  to  believe,  that  the 
times  preceding   the  Reformation   were    much  more  learned 
than  has  ufually  been  imagined.     Should  v/e  allow  full -credit 
to    the  encomiums,    which  our  hiftorians  have  fo    libeii    7 
poured   on  a  number  of  men    whofe  works   are  now  either 
totally  loft,  or  t-otally  neglefled,  we  might  hence  fee  that   li- 
terature is  of  no  avail  (or  is  not   duly  valued)  without  tafte  ; 
and  that,  if  fcience  be  communicated  in  barbarous   language, 
it  will  be  treated  with  difregard  and  contempt  by  a  polite  aad 
cultivated  age.     But  the  grcateft  part  of  our  ancient  monadic 
authors,  notwithllanding    the   pompous  eulogiums  we   read 
concerning  them,  were  as  defpicable  for  the  matter,  as  for  the 
exprelTion   of  their  performances.     In  every  view,  therefore, 
they  were  juftly  configned  to  dull  and  worms  ;  and  though  we 
pollefs  fomething  of  an  antiquarian  fpirit,  we  are  not  endued 
with  fuch  a  portion  of  it,  as  to  be"  extremely  fpnd  of  things 
which  are  recommended  by  nothing  but  their  antiquity.     Se- 
veral perfons,    however,  may  deferve  a  place  in  a  hiftory  of 
the  progrefs  of  knowledge,  whofe  compofitions  are  no  longer 
valuable ;  and,   as  learning   cannot   be  purfued,    even  in  the 
moft  difadvantageotis   manner,  or  in  the  moft    unfavourable 
circumftances,  without    producing  good  effefts  in  certain  in- 
ftanccs,  a  diligent  enquirer   will  always  find  fome  few    names 
that  are  worthy  of  being  mentioned  with  particular  cfteem. 
Where  this  is  the  cafe,  there  is   a  pleafure  in  paying  the    tri- 
bute due  to  departed  merit ;  it  is    doing  honour  to  our  coun- 
try, to  let  none  be  forgotten  v.^ho  have    a  lawful  title  to  re- 
membrance and  applaufe.' 

*  Though  general  light  feemed  rather  to  increafe  during  the 
period,  of  which  we  are  treating  ;  yet,  excepting  two  or  three 
illuilrious  men    who  appeared  towards   the  conclufion  of  it, 

this 


^  John  I.f.lakd,  a  celebrated  antiquary,  died  155Z  ;  aged  45  :Vid,  his  work^ 
Eor  further  informatiou. 


£SSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.  xxxy 

this  sera  did  not  produce  a  fet  of  writers  equal  in  abilities  and 
'Charafter  to  thofe  who  flourifhed  in  the  preceding.' 

'Philological  and  Polite  Literature,  till  it  was  revived  at 
the  clofe  of  this  sera,  was  in  as  low. a  Hate  as  Natural  Philo- 
fophj Though  we  have  feen  that  fo  much  poetry  was  pro- 
duced in  the  beginning  of  the  period  before  us,  it  is  remarka- 
ble that  the  names  of  its  writers  are,  for  the  moll  part,  buried 
in  oblivion.  We  know  not  to  whom  we  owe  far  the  greater 
number  of  metrical  romances,  and  other  compofitions  which 
the  age  afforded.  It  is  probable  that  they  were  the  produc- 
duftions  jof  monks  who  lived  and  died,  unknown,  in  their 
convents.  The  firft  poet  whofe  name  occurs,  is  Robert  of 
Gloucest^.r,  who  flourilhed  about  the  year  1280.  He  was  a 
monk  of  the  abbey  of  Gloucclter,  and  compofed  a  poem  of 
confiderable  length,  which  is  a  Hiftory  of  England,  in  verfe, 
from  Brutus  to  his  own  time.  At  the  clofe  of  Edward  the 
Firll's  reign,  we  meet  with  another  poet  named  Robert 
Manning,  but  more  commonly,  Robert  de  Brunne  *,  who 
appeals  neverthelefs  only  as  atranilator.  The  work  tranflated^or 
rather  paraphrafed  by  him,  was  originally  written  by  Robert 
GRoST£sT,and  was  entitled  Manual  de  Peche,  or  the  Manual 
of  Sins.  Among  the  authors  of  metrical  romances  in  the 
I  time 


*  Becaufe  he  refided  in  the  monaftery  of  Brunne,  or  Bourne,  in 
Lincohijhire  inhabited  by  the  monks  of  the  order  of  St  Gilbert- 
He  tranflated  many  pieces,  from  the  French  and  Latin,  into  Eng- 
lifh  verfe  J  among  which  "  Ihe  cajlle  of  love,\>y  bifhop  Grosse- 
Teste,"  is  not  the  leaft  remarkable.  It  begins  with  the  follow- 
ing pious  lines  : 

That  good  thinketh  good  may  do, 
And  God  will  help  him  thar  to :  ■  , 

Ffor  nas  never  good  work  wrought 
With  oute  biginningc  of  good  thougt. 
Ne  never  was  wrougt  non  vuel  (well,  good)  thynj. 
That  vuel  thouat  nas  the  beginnyng. 
God  ffuder,  and  fone  and  holigofte 
'J'hat  alle  thing  on  corthe  fixt  and  woft 
That  one  God  art  and  thrilhhod  (trinity) 
And  threo  perfones  in  one  hod, 
Withouten  end  and  biginninge, 
To  whom  we  ougten  over  alle  thinge, 
Worshepe  him  with  trewe  love, 
'J  hat  kinc  worthe  king  art  us  above,  &c.  &c. 


xxxvi         THREE   PHILOLOGICAL 

time  of  ^■dward  II.  Adam  Davie  (i)is  the  onlj  peifon  whofe 
name  has  defcended  to  pofterity.  Robert  Baston,  (2)  a  poet 
who  attended  this  monarch  in  his  expedition  to  Scotland,  wrote 
chiefly  in  Latin.  It  was  not  till  the  rergn  of  Edward  III.  (3) 
that  the  geniuffes  fpraag  up,  who  produced  that  poetic  revo- 
lution already  mentioned,  and  which  reflect  s  fo  much  honour 
oa  themfelves  and  on  their   country.      Richard  Hampoi.e,  a 

doclor 


(i)  Of  this  charafterno  accounts  appear  to  be  extant  refpefting 
his  merits  as  a  b^rd,  nor  of  the  time  when  he  flouriflied  :  at  lead  I 
have  not  been  able  to  dlfcover  any  in  Dr.  Kippis'  Eiographia  Bri- 
tannica,  in  the  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  laft  edition,  and  feyeral 
other  works  I  have  purpofely,  though  vainly,  conrulted. — The 
fame  will  apply  to  other  authors  mentioned  in  this  Ili/Iory,  whofc 
names  are  not  accompanied  with  any  biographical  notes. 

W. 

(2)  The  greater  part  of  his  poems  are  written  in  Za//«,  of  which 
that  "  jDf  Hacerdotum  Luxuriis''''  is  not  the  leafl:  curious. — In  Eng- 
lifh  he  wrote  "  yi  Book  of  Foems^''  and  "  A  Volume  of  Tragedies 
and  Comedies. '''' — Being  poet  laureat  and  public  Orator  at  Oxford, 
he  accompanied  Edward  I.  in  his  expedition  into  Scotland  in 
1304,  to  celebrate  his  vi£lories  over  the  Scots  :  but  Robert  Baf- 
ton  unluckily  fell  into  the  enemy's  liands,  and  was  obliged  by  tor- 
ture to  change  his  note  and  fing  the  fuccefles  of  Robert  Bruce, 
who  then  claimed  the  crown  of  Scotland.  This  talk  he  reluflant- 
ly  complied  with,  as  he  intimates  in  the  two  firft  lines  : 

*'  In  dreery  verfe  my  rhymes  I  make 
Bewailing  whilft  fuch  theme  I   take,"  &c. 
Our   author's  poetry    was   exprefled    in    fomewhat    barbarous 
flyle,  but  not  contemptible  for  the  age  in    which  he    lived.     He 
died  about  1310.  Kippis. 

(3)  Born  at  Windfor,  i^ii ;  proclaimed  king  and  crowned  at  Weftminilcr 
1327  ;  died  in  1377.— ^Hc  was  undoubtedly  one  of  the  greateft  princes  that  ever 
fwayed  the  fceptre  in  England  ;  whether  we  refpe<S  him  as  a  warrior  or  lawgiver, 
a  monarch,  or  a  man.  He  poflefTed  the  courap'e  and  romantic  fpirit  of  Alexander  ; 
the  penetration,  the  fortitude,  the  polifhed  manners,  of  Julius;  the  munificence, 
the  liberality,  the  wifdom  of  Auguftus  C.-efar.  He  was  tall,  majeftic,  of  an  ele- 
gant figure,  with  a  piercing  eye,  and  aquiline  vifage.  He  excelled  all  his  cotem- 
poraries  in  feats  of  arms  and  peifonal  addrefs.  He  was  courteous,  afFable  and 
eloquent;  a  conftitutional  knight-errant;  and  his  example  diffufed  the  ipirit  of 
chivalry  through  the  whole  nation.  In  imitation  of  the  youthful  monarch  who 
delighted  in  tilts  and  tournaments,  every  individual  betook  himfelf  to  the  exercise 
cf  uniis ;  cverj-  breaft  glowed  with  emulation,  every  hcr.rt  panted  with  the  thirll 

of 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.  xxx.n 

doclor  in  divinity,  of  the  order  of  St  Auguiline,  muft  not  be 
reckoned  in  the  number  of  thefe  geniuffes.  Robert  Long - 
LANDE,  who  flouriflied  about  the  year  1350,  and  who  was  the 
author  of  the  poem  called  "  The  Vifion  of  Pierce  PlowTvariy^ 
merits  a  far  fuperior  diflindlion.  This  poem  contains  a  feries 
of  diftinft  vifions,  i^n  which  the  vices  of  almoft  every  profcf- 
fion,  particularly  of  the  clergy,  and  the  abfurdities  of  fupcr- 
ftition,  are  ridiculed  with  much  humour  and  fpirit.  The  fa- 
tire  is  accompanied  with  a  ftrong  vein  of  allegorical  invention. 
The  great  defeat  of  Longlande  lies  in  his  language.  He  has 
adopted  the  flyle  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  poets,  and  imitated  them 
in  their  alliterative  verfification  ;  in  coufequence  of  which  he 
is  remarkably  uncouth,  and  fometimes  obfcure.  It  is  to  be 
lamented,  that  fo  much  genius  and  abilities  Ihould  be  hidden 
by  fa  unpleafant  and  ungracious  a  mode  of  compolition.  Bad 
as  the  model  fet  by  Longlande  was,  he  had  a  number  of  imi- 
tators-' 

Longiaad  was  a  cotemporary  of  Mandeville,  and  his  Vifion 
before  mentioned  is  one  of  the  beft  poems  that  appeared  during 
this  jera.  Under  the  fiftitious  idea  of  vifions,  or  apparitions, 
he  lafhes  m  a  fatirical  ftrain,  the  vices, of  all  ranks,  and  parti- 
cularly thofe  arifing  from  the  abfurdities  of  fuperftition  and 
the  corrupted  manners  of  the  clergy. — Inflead  of  the  long  paf- 
ages  quoted  by  Warton,  a  ihorter  one  will  fuffice  here,  in 
which  Nature  (Kynde)  at  the  command  of  Confcience  and  its 
companions,  Age  and  Death,  fends  her  difeafes  from  the  pla- 
nets. 

Kynde  Confcience  then  heard,  and  came  out  of  the  planetts, 
And  feat  forth  his  farriours  Fevers,  and  Fluxe?, 

e  Coughes- 


of  glory  ;  and  when  he  took  the  field,  there  was  not  a  foldier  in  his  army,  who  did 
not  ferve  from  fentiment  and  fight  'for  reputation.  The  love  of  glory  was  certain- 
ly the  predominant  pa'Jion  of.Edward,  to  the  gratification,  of  which  .''e  did  not 
fcruple  to  facrifice  the  feelings  of  humanity,  the  lives  of  his  fuhjeLts,  and  the  in- 
tcrcft  of  his  country ;  and  nothing  could  have  induced  or  enabled  his  people  tq 
bear  the  load  of  taxps,  with  which  they  were  encumbered  in  diis  reign,  but  the 
Jove  and  admiration  of- his  pcribn,  the  fame  of  his  vidlofics,  and  the  excellent  laws 
and  regulations  which  the  parliament  enaded  with  his  advice  and  concurrence  ;  and 
finally,  the  firft  difUnaion  \v;;3  made  between  lords  and  commons  in  134a,  by 
which  the  foundation  was  laid  for  the  prcfent  Enghlh  conftltution ;  a  fabric  that  is 
believed  to  be  capable  of  repairing  and  occafionally  reproducing  its  worm-eaten  pil- 
lars, liowcvsr  injuri;d  and  pr:yed  iipon  by  the  tooth  of  tune. 

W     ai.d  Barclay. 


xxxviii        THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

Coughes,  and  Caidiacles,  Crampes  and  Toth  aches, 

Reumes  and  Kadgondes,  andraynous  Scalles, 

Byles  and  Botches,  and  burnynge  Agues 

Frenefes,  and  foule  Evjll,  foragers  o£  Kynde. 

Ther  was  "  Harowe  !   and  Helpe  !   here  cometh  Kynde  ! 

*'  With  Death  that  is  dreadful,  to  unde  us  all  !" 

The  lord  that  lyveth  after  lull  tho  aloud  cried 

Age  the  hoore,  he  was  in  the  vaw-ward, 

And  bare  the  banner  before  Death  :  by  ryght  he  is  claimed. 

Kynde  came  after,  with  many  kene  forts, 

As  Packes  and  Peftilences,  and  much  people  fl\ent. 

So  kynde  through  corruptions  kylled  full  many  :  ' 

Death  came  dryvyng  after  and  all  to  dufc  paflied 

Kyngs  and  Kayfers,  knightes  and  popes. 

Many  a  lovely  lady,  and  lemman  of  knyghtes, 

Swoned  and  fwelted  for  forowe  and  Death's  dyntes. 

Confcience,  of  his  courtefye  to  Kynde  he  befoght 

To  ceafe  and  fufire,  of  fe  where  they  wolde, 

Leave  pride  prively,  and  be  perfite  chriilen, 

And  Kynde  ceafed  tho,  to  fee  the  people  amende. , 

At  length  Good  Fortune  and  Pride  difpatch  a  nuiperous  hofl: 
of  enemies  led  on  hy  Defire,  to  make  an  attack  upon  Confcience. 

And  gadered  a  great  hoft,  all  agayne  Confcience  : 

This  Lechery  led  on,  with  a  laughyng  chere. 

And  with  a  privye  fpeeche,  and  pnynted  wordes, 

And  armed  him  in  idlenefs  and  in  high  bearyng. 

He  bare  a  bowe  in  his  hand,  and  many  bloudy  arrowes. 

Were  fethered  with  faire  behcft,  and  many  a  falfe  truth. 

Upon  this  Confcience  is  bcfieged  bj  y^ntichrijl  who  is  aided 
by  the  feven  great  giants  (the  feven  mortal  fins),  in  which  ex- 
pedition Idlenefs  forms  the  order  of  the  attack  with  an  army 
confifting  of  upwards  of  a  thoufand  well-fed  prelates,  &c. 

*  There  was  a  Scotti(h  poet  in  the  prefent  period,  who 
is  entitled  to  diflinguilhed  praifes.  The  perfon  we  have  in  view 
is  John  Barbour,  (4)  Arch-deacon  of  Aberdeen.    His  poem 

called 


(4).  Very  littie  is  known  of  this  illuftrious  character,  one  of  the 
earlieft  Caledonian  bards,  except  that  he  feems  to  have  been  born 
about  1326  J  that  he  was  Archdeacon  of  Aberdeen  in  1357,  in 
which  y«ar  he  travelled  to  Oxford,  and  was  appointed  by  the 
Bi(hop  of  Aberdeen,  one  of  the  commiflioners  for  the  ranfom  of 
David  \\.  king   of  Scotland  j  and  that  in  1365  he   accompanied 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.        xxxix 

called  "  ^ie  Hijlory  of  Robert  Bruce,  King  of  the  Scots, 
allowance  being  made  for  the  time  in  which  it  was  written,  is 
eminent  for  the  beauty  of  its  ftyle.  Another  bard  of  the  fame 
country  wrote  a  poem  on  the  exploits  of  Sir.  William  Wal- 
lace, which  abounds  with  fine  paiTages.  Both  thefe  writers 
rofe  to  a  flrain  of  verfification,  expreflion,  and  poetical  imagery, 
greatly  fuperior  to  the  age  and  country  in  which  they  lived.* 

e  a  We 

fix  knights  to  St  Denis  "near  Paris.  In  the  year  1375,  as  he  him- 
felf  informs  us,  he  wrote  h  poem  of  confiderable  length,  which  was 
firft  publiihed,  in  the  original  Scottifli  verfe,  from  a  MS.  dated 
1489,  with  Notes  and  a  Gjoffary  j  by  Mr  Pinkerton,  in  three  Vo- 
lumes i2mo.  London,  1790  j  .entitled,  The  Bruce',  or  the  Hiftory 
of  Robfert  I.  King  of  Scotland. — Mr  P.  the  prefent  editor  fays 
that  "  taking  the  total  merits  of  this  work  together,  he  prefers  it 
to  the  early  exertions  of  even  the  ItaHan  mufe,  to  the  melancholy 
fublimity  of  Dante,  and  the  amorous  quaintnefs  of  Petrarca.  The 
reader  will  here  find  few  of  the  graces  of  fine  poetry,  little  of  the 
attic  drefs  of  the  mufe:  but  here  are  life,  fpirit,  eafe,  plain  fenfe, 
piftures  of  real  manners,  perpetual  incident,  and  entertainment. 
The  language  is  remarkably  good  for  the  time  j  and  far  fuperior, 
in  neatnefs  and  elegance,  even  to  that  of  Gawin  Douglas,  who 
wrote  more  than  a  century  after.  But  when  we  confider  that  ouc 
author  is  not  only  the  firft  poet  but  the  earlieft  hiftorian  of  Scot- 
land, who  has  entered  into  any  detail,  and  from  whom  any  view  of 
the  real  ftate  and  manners  of  the  country  can  be  had  ;  and  that 
the  hero,  whofe  life  he  paints  fo  minutely,  was  a  monarch  equal  to 
the  grentell  of  modern  times  ;  let  the  hiftorical  and  poetical  me- 
rits of  his  work  be  weighed  together ;  and  then  oppofed  to  any 
other  early  poet  of  the  prefent  nations  in  Europe." 

"  It  is  indeed  pofterior  in  time  to  the  earlieft  poetry  of  the 
moft  modern  nations  ;  but  it  muft  be  confidered  that  Scotland 
hardly  had  one  writer  ir\  the  thirteenth  century,  !and  this  poem  was 
written  in  the  fourteenth." 

The  following  (hort  fpecimen  of  the  poem  will  fufficieritly  prove 
thefe  affertions,  and  we  have  only  to  attend  to  the  obfcrvation 
which  the  editor  has  prefixed  to  his  Gloffary  y  viz.  "  The  chief 
obftacle  in  perufing  this  work  arifes  from  the  orthography,  which 
is  extremely  irregular.  To  underftand  many  words,  it  is  only  ne- 
ceffary  to  pronounce  them  aloud  ;  and  the  meaning  which  is  ob- 
fcured  by  the  fpelling,  will  be  evident  from  the  found." 

A  I  fredome  is  a  nobill  thing  ! 
Eredome  mayfe  man  to  haiff  liking  J     (i)  * 

Fredome 

(l)  Males  man  to  have  joy  ' 


xl  THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

We  are  now  arrived  to  Gii;oFFREY  Chaucer,(5)  who  claims 
the  higheft  place  of  diflindlion,  on  account  of  his  pre-eminent 
merit,  and  the  more  extenfive  influence  of  his  example.  Into 
the  particulars  of  his  life,  which  are  raiinxtelj  difcufl'cd  in  the 

Biographia 

Fredome  all  folace  to-man  giffis  :  ' 

He  levys  at  efe,  that  frely  levys ! 

A  noble  hart  may  baiff  nane  efe, 

Na  ellys  nocbt  that  may  blra  plefe,  (2) 

Gyfffredome  failyhe  :  for  fre  liking  (3)    ^ 

Is  yharnyt  our  all  otbir  thing  (4) 

Na  he,  that  ay  h;)fe  levyt  fie, 

May  nocht   knaw  weill  the  piopyrte, 

The  angyr,  na  the  wrecbyt  dome,  (5) 

That  is  cowplyt  to  foule  thyildome. 

But  gyfF  he  had  aflfayit  it, 

Than  all  perquer  he  fuld  it  wyt  j  (6) 

And  fuld  think  fredome  mar  to  pryfe, 

Than  all  the  gold  in  varid  that  is. 
As  a  fpecimen  of  Barbour's  rural  poetry,  the  followirifr  few  lines 
^v\U  confirm  Mr  Andrews's  opinion,  when  he  fays  in  his  Hi/lory  of 
Great  Brilairty  conneBed  with  the  Chronology  of  Europe ;  %Lc.  ^tOy 
Londo'i  '794»  "  That  Barbour  wrote  the  life  arid  exploits  of 
Robert  Bruce  in  good  rhyme  ;  and  in  a  ftyle  more  like  our  mo- 
dern Englifti,  than  the  language  of  Chaucer." 

This  was  in  midil  of  month  of  May, 
When  birdis  fing  on  ilka  fpray, 
Melland  (7)  their  notes,  with  feemly  foun, 
For  foftnefs  of  the  fweet  fcafoyn.' 
And  leavis  of  the  brarichis  fp^eeds. 

And  bloomis  bright,  befide  them,  breeds,  , 

And  fieldis  ftra~wed  are  with  flow'rs 
Well  favoring  of  feir  (8)  colours. 

(^)  Geoffrey  Chaucer,  juftly  confidercd  as  the  father  of  our 
Tnglifh  poets,  and  the  firlt  great  improver  and  reformer  of  our 
Unguage,  was  born  in  the  fecond  year  of  Edward  III.  A.  D.  1328. 
He  ftudied  firft  at  Cambridge  where  he  compofc-d  his  poem  called 
'•  l^he  Court  of  Love,''''  in  the  i8th  yearof  his  age,  which  carries 
in  it  very  pregnant  proofs    of  fluU  and  learning  as  well  as  ^  quick- 

nefs 
1  '   (j)  Na  ellys  nocl'.t ;  nor  any  tbinrr  clfc.     (.5)  fre  liking  ;  y;-^.-  ro'ill.     (4)  yharnyt 
our  J  dftt  id  above,     (jj  angyr;  qucre,  c«jjj,i.  c.  a.-r^iiijhl     (6^  pcic^'.icr;  reific}- 
ly.  wyt ;  i,iiiif.  - 

(')'5.Icll2ad;  ni'mgUng.     (8)  fcif ;  tbilr 


ESSAYS,    BY  ADELUNG.  x\i 

Biographia,  we  fhall  not  enter.  It  may  be  fufficient  to  faj, 
that  he  was  converfant  with  the  -court,  and  engaged  in  public 
affairs  ;  that  he  was  clofely  connefted  with  John  of  Gaunt,  and 

majrried 


nefs  of  wit,    and  great  ftrength  of   genius.     He  compleated   his 
ftudies  in  the  Univerfity  of  Oxford,  or  as  fome  fay,  at  Canterbury- 
College. — Leland    informs  us,    that  he  was    a    ready  logician,   a 
fmooth  rhetorician,  a  pleafant  poet,  a  grave  philofopher,    an  inge- 
nious mathematician,  and  a    holy  divine.     He  afteirwards  applied 
himfelf  to    the   ftudy  of  Law-,    In  the    Middle-Temple  j  and  was 
made  King's    page,  about    the  age  of  thirty,  an  office    then  very 
honourable,  as  the  Englhli  court  was  the  molt  fplendid  in  Europe. 
He  married  Philippa  Rouet,  a  favourite  of  the  Duke  and  Duchefs 
of  Gaunt,  about  the  year  1360  -^  was  fent  by  King  Edward,  as  his 
agent  to  Genoa,    to  hire  (liips  for  the  King's  Navy  j    and  having 
accompliflied  the  objeft  of  this  miflion  to   the  fatisfadlion    of  his 
mafter,  the  King  granted  him,  in   the  48th    year  of  his   reign,  a 
pitcher  of  wine  daily  in  the  port  of  London,  to  be  delivered  by  the 
Butler  of  England,  and  very  foon  after  he  was  made  Comptroller 
of  the  cuftoms   in    the  port  of  Loudon.     Yet  it  is  doubtful,  how 
long  he  remained  In  this  lucrative  office  ;  for  in  the  fecond   year 
of  King    Richard    his  affairs   were  in  fuch  confufion    that  he  was 
obliged  to  have  recourfe    to  the   King's    protedion,  in    order  to 
fcreen  hira  from  his  creditors. — By  ^attaching  himfelf  to  Wickllff, 
ana  his  followers,  he  w'as  Involved  In  great  calamities,  and  became 
equally   fufpeded  by    the  King,    and  dllliked  by  the  people. — In 
1382,  he  was  obliged  to    fly  from  London  Into  Hainault,  France, 
and  Zeeland,  in  which  banllhment  he  almoft  periflied  by  the  bar- 
barous Ingratitude  of  his  former  friends  in  England,  who  inftead  of 
fending  him  any  fupplles,  rather  hindered   every  attempt  made  by 
others  to  relieve  ^hlm.     When   almoft   perlflilng    from  want,  he 
privately  came  over  to  England,  where  he  was  difcovered,  feized, 
thrown  Into  prifon,   and  upon  difclofing  all  he  knewof  the  king's 
enemies,  he  at  laft  obtained  )ils  pardon.     Yet  he  did  hot  take  any 
meafures  to  revenge  himfelf  agalnll  his  treacherous  lilends  by  the 
confeffions    extorted  from  him  j  though  with    regard  to   himfelf 
they  brought  uppn  him  an  Inexpreffible  load  of  calumnies  and  flan- 
ders. — The    penfibn  of  20  marks    per  annum,    together  with    the 
daily  pitcher  of  wine  granted  him  by  King -Edward,   and  forfeited 
by  his  dereliftion  of  the  court  party,  .were  confirmed  to  him  in  the 
reign  of  King  Henry,  from  whom  he  obtained  a  licence  on  the  i  ith 
of  May  1389  to  difpofe  ot  them  to  one  Scalby.     In  this  unexpeft- 
ed  and  terrible  reverfe  of  fortune,  he  very  wifely  refolved  to  quit 

that 


3dii  THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

9 

married  the  lifter  of  the  famous  Catherine  Swynford  ;  that  he 
was  involved  in  the  misfortunes  of  his  friend  and  mafter  ;  that 
he  was  obliged  to  flee  into  Holland,  when  the  Duke  was  difgrac- 

ed  ; 


xthat  bufy  fcene  of  life,  in  which  he  had  met  with  fo  many  troubles, 
and  to  feek  a  more  lailing  happinefs  in  retirement.  He  therefore 
chofe  Woodftock  for  his  retreat  j  a  place  which  had  been  the 
fvveet  fcene  of  fo  much  fatisfaftion  to  him  in  the  days  of  his  prof- 
perity  ;  and  here  he  employed  part  of  his  time  in  revifing  and 
correcting  his  writings,  totally  fecluded  from  the  world,  and 
tafting  only  thofe  calm  and  folid  pleafures  which  are  the  refult  of 
a  wife  man's  reflexions  on  the  viciflitudes  of  human  life.  He  re- 
iided  here  in  a  fquare  flone  houfe  near  the  park  gate,  which  fllU 
retains  his  name  •,  and  it  well  deferves  this  honourable  token,  for, 
being  confecrated  in  his  poems,  the  whole  country  round  about  is 
become,  to  Englifliraen,  a  kind  of  Claflic  ground.  The  fliort  time 
he  lived  after  the  acceflion  of  Edward  IV,  was  chiefly  employed  in 
regulating  his  private  afi^ai,rs  which  had  fuffered  by  the  public  dif- 
orders  :  for  all  the  public  a61:s  of  the  depofed  King  Richard,  in 
the  2Tft  year  of  his  reign,  being  declared  void,  Chaucer  was  forced 
to  quit  his  retirement,  to  come  up  to  town  to  folicithis  caufes,  and 
beginning  now  to  bend  under  the  weight  of  years,  this  unlucky  ac- 
ceflion of  bufinefs,  which  obliged  him  to  alter  his  ufual  way  of 
living,  might  very  poflibly  haften  his  end,  the  near  approach  of 
which  he  bore  with  Roman  conftancy,  or  rather  with  chriftian  pa- 
tience. For  there  is  ftill  extant  a  kind  of  Ode  that  he  is  faid  to 
have  compofed  in  his  laft  agonies,  which  very  plainly  proves,  that 
his  fenfcs  were  perfeclly  found,  and  the  faculties  of  his  mind  not 
in  the  leaft  impaired.  He  died  Oftober  25th  1400,  in  the  full 
polTeflion  of  that  high  reputation  which  his  writings  had  deferved- 
]y  acquired,  and  was  buried  in  Weftminfler  Abbey  in  the  great 
fouth  crofs-ifle. — The  fonnet  or  ode  above  alluded  to  confifts  of 
three  ftanzas  only,  and  as  well  for  the  beauty  of  the  piece,  as  fof 
the  extraordinary  occaflon  on  which  it  was  written,  Dr  Kippis  has 
dcfervtdly  given  it  a  place  in  his  Biograpbia  Bruannica, 

Gode  confaile  of  Chaucer  : 
-    Attempted  in  modern  ErigliJJj. 
The  Po&ts  last  Advice. 


Fly  from  the  croud,  and  be  to  virtue  true. 
Content  with  what  thou  hafl,  tho'  it  be  fmall. 

To 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.  xliii 

ed;  and  that  he  afterwards  returned  into  England,  upon  the  re- 
ftoration  of  his  patron  to  power  and  favour — His  literary  cha- 
racter was  trulj  illuftrious  ;  it  has  been  lately,  and  with  great 

ability 


To  hoard  brings  hate  ;  nor  lofty  thoughts  purfue, 
He  who  climbs  high  endangers  many  a  fall. 

Envy's  a  (hade  that  ever  waits  on  fame, 
And  oft  the  fun  that  rlfes  it  will  hidej 

Trace  not  in  life  a  vaft  cxpenfive  fcheme 
Eut  be  thy  wifhes  to  thy  flate  ally'd. 

Be  mild  to  others,  to  thyfelf  fevere  j 

So  truth  fhall  fliield  thee,  or  from  hurt  or  fear. 

II.  ^ 

Think  not  of  bending  all  things  to  thy  will, 

Nor  vainly   hope  that  fortune  Ihall  befriend  j 
Inconftant  flie,  but  be  thou  conflant  ftill, 

Whate'er  betide  unto  an  honeft  end. 
Yet  needlefs  dangers  never  madly  brave. 

Kick  not  thy  naked  foot  againll:  a  nailj 
Or  from  experience  the  folution  crave, 

If  wall  and  pitcher  drive,  which  ftiall  prevail; 
Be  in  thy  caufe,  as  in  thy  neighbour's  clear. 
So  truth  ihall  (liield  thee,  or  from  hurt  or  fear. 

III. 

Whatever  happens,  happy  in  thy  mind 

Be  thou,  nor  at  thy  lot  in  life  repine. 
He  'fcapes  all  ill,  whofe  bofom  is  rcfign'd. 

Nor  way,  nor  weather  will  be  always  fine. 
Bcfide,  thy  home's  not  here,  a  journey  this, 
A  pilgrim  thou,  then  hie  thee  on  thy  way. 
Look  up  to  God,  intent  on  heavenly  blifs, 
■  Take  what  the  road  affords  and  praifes  pay  ; 
Shun  brutal  luft,  and  feek  thy  foul's  high  fphere  3 
So  truth  ftiall  ftiield  thee,  or  from  hurt  or  fear. 
In  order   to  give  likewife  fome  fpecimen  of  his  original  compo- 
fition,  Chaucer's  humorous  Addrefs  to  his  empty  purfe,  and  his  laco- 
nic advice  to  his  own  amanuenjisy  well  deferve  here  to  be  recorded. 

Chaucer  to  his  emptie  purfe. 
To  you  my  purfe,  and  to  none  othir  wight, 
Complain  I,  for  ye  be  my  ladie  dere, 

I  am 


xllv         THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

ability  difplayedby  fucli  writers  as  aTYRWHiT  and  a  Wartoi^  : 
hence  it  is  the  lefs  neceflary,  here,  to  enlarge  upon  it.  Chau- 
cer was  Ikilled  in  all  the  learning  of  the  age,  and  efpecially  in 

aftronomy, 

I  am  forie  now  that  ye  be  fo  light, 
For  certis  ye  now  make  me  hevie  cherc  j 
Me  were  as  lefc  be  laide  upon  a  here, 
For  whiche  unto  your  mercy  thus  I  crie, 
Be  hevy  agahie,  or  els  mote  I  die. 

Now  vouchfafin  this  day  or  it  be  night    . 
That  I  of  yow  the  blisful  fowne  miy  here, 
Or  fe  your  colour  lyke  the  fonne  bright, 
That  of  yclowneffe  ne  had  nevir  pere  j 
Ye  be  my  life,  ye  be  my  hert'is  llere  j 
Quene  of  comfort  and  of  gode  companye. 
Be  hevy  againe,  or  els  mote  I  die. 

Nowe  purfe,  that  art  to  me  my  liv'is  light, 
And  fayvour,  as  downe  in  this  vvorlde  here, 
Oute  of  this  towne  helpe  me  by  your  might, 
Sithin  that  yow  wol  not  be  my  trefoure, 
For  I  am  (have  as  nighe  as  any  frere, 
But  I  preyin  unto  your  curtefye 
Be  hevy  againe,  or  els  mote  I  die,  &c. 

Chaucer's  wordes  unto  his  own  Scrivenere. 

Adam  Scrivenere,  yf  ever  it  the  befalle 
BoECE  or  Troiles  for  to  write  new 
Under  thy  longe  lockes  thou  maift  have  the  fcalle, 
But  after  my  makynge  thou  write  more  true. 
So  oft  adaye  I  mote  thy  werke  renew 
It  to  correfte  and  eke  to  rubbe  and  fcrape. 
And  al  is  thorow  thy  negligence  and  rape. 
The  following  lines  are  faid  to  have  been  anciently  upon  Chau- 
cer's tomb-ftone. 

Galfridus  Chaucer,  vates  et  fama  Poesis 
Matern^e,  hac  sacra  sum  tumulatus  homo. 
-About  the  year  1555,   Nicholas  Brighman,  a  gentleman  of  Ox- 
ford, erefted  a  handfbme  monument  for  Chaucer.  His  pidure  was 
taken*from  Occleve's  book,  together  with  the  folio  wing  infcription 
«'hich  ftlll- remains  : 

M.     S. 
^uifuit  Anglorum  vates  ter  maximus  olim 
Ga/fridus  Chaucer  conditur  hoc  tumulo  : 

Amum 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.  xh 

aftronomy,  as  appears  from  his  AJlrolahe,  in  which  he  has 
collefted  whatever  was  valuable  in  the  works  of  his  predecef- 
fors  who  applied  to  the  ftudy  of  that  fcience.  He  wrote  in 
Engliih  profe  as  well  as  verfe,  being  perfnaded  that  it  was  the 
duty  of  able  men  to  cultivate  their  native  tongue  ;  an  opinion 
correfponding  with  the  fuccefsful  efforts  of  Petrarch  in  Italy, 
whofe  example  he  found  worthy  of  imitation.' 

'  Chaucer  is  entitled  to  eminent  praife  as  a  poet.  He  was 
endued  with  an  uncommon  genius,  and  Ihone  in  very  different 
kinds  of  compofition.  His  Canterbury -tales  are  mafter- 
pieces,  which  exhibit  a  wonderful  variety  of  talents  ;  for  they 
abound  with  the  fublime  and  the  pathetic,  with  admirable  la- 
tire,  genuine  humour,  and  an  uncommon  knowledge,  of  life. 
The  llories  told  by  the  feveral  guefts  are^exndlly  fuited  to 
their  chara6lers,  and  clearly  evince  that  the  author,  notwith- 
ftanding  the  aid  he  derived  from  his  acquaintance  with  Italian 
literature,  was  pofleiTed  of  a  noble  invention  and  a  fruicful 
imagination.  Whatever  were  the  defeats  ofhisftyle,  they 
were  entirely  the  defeiEls  of  the  period  in  which  he  flouriihed. 
At  the  fame  time  it  has  a  claim  to  much  higher  praife  tban  it 
has  frequemly  received.  His  verlification  has  been  cenfured 
as  deficient  in  harmony  ;  this  charge  has  often  proceeded  from 
our  unacquaintance  with  the  ftrudure  of  the  lantruage  in  that 
age,  and  with  the  manner  in  which  it  Was  pronounced.  Chau- 
cer is  ufually  characterized   as  the  Father  of  the  Englifh  poe- 

f  try. 


^nninn  Ji  quceras  Domini^Ji  temj)ora  vitce, 
Ecce  notce  fubfunt  qiice  tibi  cunBa  notunt. 
25   OBobris,  T400. 
A.  ^rumnarum  requies  mors. 

N.  Brigbam  bos  fecit  Mufurum  nomine  fumfitus . 
1536. 

In   Kngliff)  thus  : 
Of  En_!7li(h  bards  who  fang  the  fweeteft  ftralns, 
Old  Geoffrey  Chaucer  now  this  tomb  contains  : 
For  if  death's  date,  if  reader  thou  fliould'ft  call, 
Look  but  beneath  and  it  will  tell  thee  ail. 
25th  of  Oftober,  1400. 
Death  is  the  repofe  of  affliftlons. 
N.  Bflghmsn  placed  thefe  in  the  name  of  the  Mufes  at  his  own 
expence,      ^Sj^' 


slvi  THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

try  :  he  was  undoubtedly  the  firfl  perfon^in  England,  to  ^vliotn 
the  title  of  a  poet,  in  its  genuine  luftre,  could  be  applied  with 
juftice.  He  not  only  enriched  our  native  tongue  in  general, 
but  had  the  honour  of  eftablifliing  the  Englifh  heroic  verfe, 
in  which  fo  many  beautiful  compofitlons  have  fincc  appeared.' 

*  This  illuftrious  man  was  uncommonly  free  in  his  leligious 
fentiraents  ;  he  employed  his  talents  with  equal  fuccefs  in 
"lalhing  the  immoralities  (jf  the  priefts,  and  in  covertly  attack- 
ing fome  of  the  do6lrines  of  the  Church  of  Rome  :  nor 
has  it  been  imagined  without  reafon,  that  he  was  a  great  fa- 
vourer, if  not  a  d'lrcS.  follower  of  WicklilF.' 

*  Another  poet  of  this  oera,  who  is  entitled  to  confiderable 
applaufe,  is  John  Gower  (6).  He  was  the  intimate  friend  of 
Chaucer,  and  co-operated  w-ith  him  in  all  his  valuable  defigns. 
"With  refpeft  to  religion  he  was  equally  liberal  in  his  fentl- 
ments  ;  fo  natural  is  the  connection  between  genius  and  the 
love  of  liberty.     Though  he  was  much  inferior  to  Cha^iccr  in 

fpirit, 


(6^  Gcwer's  chief  work  in  Englilli,  is  his  Confcjjio  amantis,  or 
"  The  lover's  confeflion  *,"  itwas  finiihed  in  the  year  '393.  It 
is  divided  into  eight  books,  firft  printed  by  Caxton  in  1483.  He 
•wrote  this  poem  at  the  defire  of  Richard  II.  who  meeting  our 
poet  rovir)g  on  the  Thames,  near  London,  invited  him  into  the 
Royal  barge,  and  after  much  converfation  requefted  him  to  booh 
fome  new  thing.  On  this  piece  Govver's  chara6ler  and  reputation 
as  a  poet,  are  almolt  entirely  founded.  It  is  a  dialogue  between 
a  lover'and  his  confeffor  who  is  a  prieft  of  Venus,  and  like  the 
myftagogue  in  th^  Picture  of  Cebes,  is  called  Genius.— What 
Gower  wanted  in  invention,  he  fupplied  from  his  common-place 
book,  xvhich  appears  to  haye  been  ftored  with  an  inexhauftible 
fund  of  inftruclive  maxims,  pleafant  narrations,  and  philofophical 
definitions  :  hence  his  objedl  to  croud  all  his  erudition  into  this 
elaborate  performance  j  yet  there  i?  often  fome  degree  of  con- 
trivance and  art  in  his  manner  of  introducing  and  adapting  fub- 
jefts  of  a  very  diftnnt  nature,  and  which  are  tptaliy  foreign  to  his 
general  defigns.  (Kippis).  That  he  was  a  man  of  judgment,  appears 
from  the  tirc.umllance  of  Chaucer's  fubmitting  his  Troi/us  and 
CreJJida  to  Gower's  ccnfure. — His  munificence  and  piety  were 
great  J  he  largely  contributed  to  rebuild  the  conventual  church  of 
St  Mary  Overee  In  Southwark,  In  Its  prcfent  elegant  form,  and  to 
render  it  a  beautiful  pattern  of  the  lighter  Gothic  architeiSture  ;  at 
the  fame  time  he  founded  at  his  tomb  a  perpetual  chantry,  and 
(died  in  1402. 


ESSAYS,    BY    AD  E  LUNG.  xlvli 

fpiiit,  imagination,  and  elegance,  his  language  is  not  dellitute 
of  perfpicuity,  and  his  verfification  is  frequently  harmonious. 
His  erudition  was  very  exteniive,  and  accompanied  with  a 
knowledge  of  life.  He  critically  ciiltivated  his  native  tongue, 
that  he  might  reform  its  irregularities,  and  eftablifli  an  Eng- 
liih  ftyle.  His  poems  are  diftinguilhcd  for  their  moral  merit. 
In  fliort,  if  Chaucer  had  not  exifted,  Gower  would  alone  have 
been  fulftcient  to  refcue  the  age,  in  which  he  lived,  from  the 
imputation  of  barharifm.' 

'  In  comparing  the  hiflorians  of  this  age  with  their  prede- 
ceflbrs,  we  cannot  allow  them  equal  merit  in  the  fame  fpecies 
of  compofition.  The  Compendium  of  Thomas  Wickes, 
which  begins  with  the  Conquelt,  and  ends  at  the  death  of  Ed* 
ward  I,  is  clear  and  full  in  its  narration  of  feveral  events.  The 
Chronicle  that  goes  under  the  name  of  John  Brumpton,  is 
copious  in  its  account  of  the  Saxons,  and  tranfcribes  many  of 
their  laws  at  large.  Higden,  though  a  plagiary,  preferves 
fome  fads  which  would  otherwife  have  been  loft.  Matthew 
OF  Westminster  (';)concluded  his  Annalswith  the  year  1307  ; 
but  his  work  was  continued  by  other  hands,  aud  particularly 
b/  Adam  de  Merimuth,  to  1380.' 

'  This  age  alfo  produced  what  was  then  extremely  remark- 
able, an  extenfive  and  illuftrious  traveller.  Such  was  Sir 
John  Mandeville,  a  peifon  defcended  from  an  ancient 
and  noble  family.  He  had  received  his  education  at  the  mo- 
liaftery  of  St.  Albans,  and  applied  himfelf  for  fome  time  to 
the  common  lludies  of  the  day,  and  efpecially  to  phylic  ;  but 
at  length  he  was  feized  with  an  invincible  defire  of  vifiting 
Alia  and  Africa.  Having  amply  provided  himfelf  for  the  pur- 
pofe,  he  fet  out  upon  his  travels  in  1332,  and  was  abfentfrom 
England  thirty-four  years.  When  he  returned  to  his  native 
country,  he  was  fcarcely  known,  as  he  had  long  been  given  up 
for  dead,  by  his  relations  and  friends.  He  became  acquainted 
v.'ith  many  modern  languages,-  in  the  courfe  of  his  adventures, 
and  wrote  his  Travels  in  Latin,  French,  and  Znglifli.     Several 

,  f  ^  falfe 


(7)  A  BenediiS^ine  monk  and  an  accom^iliflied  fcholar,  who 
wrote  this  hiftory  from  the  beginning  of  the  world,  to  the  end  of 
the  reign  of  Edward  I,  ut^der  the  title  of  Flores  HiJIoriarunt',  he 
died  in  1380.  '  Encyclop.  jBaiT. 


xlviii        THREE   PHILOLOGICAL 

falfc  and  fanciful  things  are  to  be  found  in  them,  as  he  was 
extremely  credulous,  and  tells  us  not  only  what  he  faw,  but 
what  he  heard.  In  other  refpefts,  his  accounts  of  the  coun- 
tries, which  he  vifited,  deferve  attention ;  and,  excepting 
Paulus  VENUxas,  he  was  the  firfl  man  who  communicated, 
to  the  Weiiern  Europeans,  the  knowledge  of  the  remote  parts 
of  the  world  (8). 

Divifiofi  Second  ;  from  1399,  to  1485. 

Frqm  Henry  IV.  to  Henry  VII. 

*  The  period,  in  which  Chaucer,  Gower  and  Longlande 
flourilhed,  was  fucceeded  by  an  age  that  did  not,  in  any  to- 
lerable degree,  fuftain  the  fame  reputation.  There  was  only 
one  poet  in  the  reign  of  King  Henry  IV.  and  he  contributed 
nothing  to  the  improvement  of  our  verfilication  and  language. 
His  real  name  was  John  Walton,  though  he  is  called  Jo- 
hmmcs  Cnpellanus.  He  trarflated  into  Englifli  verfe  Boethius's 
"  'Treat ife  on  the  Confolution  of  Philofophyj  a  work  of  genius 
and  merit,  which  in  the  middle  ages,  was  adniired  above  eve- 
ry other  com  poll  tion.' 

*  Henry  V.  though  faid  to  have  been  fond  of  reading,  de- 
rives no  luflre  from  his  patronage  of  the  fine  arts,  but  from 
his  character  as  a  warrior.  Although  his  coronation  was  at- 
tended with  harpers,  who  mult  have  accompanied  their  inftru- 
ments  with  heroic  rhymes,  he  was  no  great  encourager  of  the 
popular  minftrelsy,  then  in  a  high  ftate  of  perfedlion.  When, 
on  h]s  entrance  into  the  city  of  London  in  triumph,  after  the 
battle  of  Agincourt,  children  had  been  placed  to  ling  verfes  as 
he  palled,  an  edift  was  ifiiied  by  him,  commanding  that,  for 
the  future,  no  fongs  iliould  be  recited  in  praife  of  the  late 
victory.  This  humility  perhaps  was  affected  ;  and,  if  it  was 
real,  does  not  appear  to  have  been  the  refult  of  true  wifdom. 
While  his  inclinations  directed  him  to  purfue  his  emi- 
nent military  atchievements,  he  ought  to  have  cherifhed  the 
perfons  who  were  belt  able  to  do  juftice  to  his  prowefs.     The 

little 


C'S)  His    rambling  difpofltion  did  not  fuffer  tiim  fo  refl  •,  for  he 
left  his  native  country    a  fecond    time,  and  died    at    Liej^e  in  the 

Nctbcilands  in  1372.  Encyclop.  Brit. 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.         xlix 

little  regard,  however,  which  Henry  paid  to  the  poets,  could 
not  prevent  them  from  celebrating  his  warlike  aftions.  A- 
mong  other  produftions,  a  minftrel-piece  was  compofed  on 
the  fiege  of  Harfleur,  and  the  battle  of  Agincourt.  It  was  a- 
dapted  to  the  harp,  and  contained  fome  fpirited  lines  ;  but  the 
fljle  was  barbarous,  compared  with  that  of  Chaucer  and 
Gower.  The  improvement  of  our  language  was  attended 
to  only  by  a  few  men,  who  had  enjoyed  the  advantages  of  a 
fuperior  education,  and  made  compofition  their  ftudy.  As 
to  the  minftrels,  they  were,  in  general,  too  illiterate  to  fearch 
after  the  refinements  of  didtion.' 

^  Concerning  Occli.ve,  though  of  fome  note  in  the  poeti- 
cal hiftory  of  this  period,  nluch  cannot  be  faid  in  his  praife. 
His  principal  poem  is  a  tranflation  of  Egidius  on  the  Govern- 
ment  of  Princes.  Occleve  did  not  excel  in  vigour  of  fancy, 
and  there  is  no  energy  in  his  writings.  He  had,  however, 
the  merit  of  contributing  to  the  improvement  of  qur  language. 
His  pathetic  lines  on  Chaucer,  who  was  his  model,  and  with 
whom  he  had  probably  formed  a  connexion  in  eaily  life,  re- 
fle6t  honour  upon    the  gratitude   and  fenfibility  of  his   heart.* 

*  John  Lydgate  (9),  a  monk  of  the  Benedidline  abbey  of 
Bury  in  Suffolk,  was  the  poet  whofe  reputation  ftands  the 
highcft  among  the  Englifli  bai-ds  of  this  age.  He  poffefled  the 
advantage  of  an  education,  not  inferior  to  any  that  the  times 
could  afford.  After  having  ftudied  at  the  uuiverfity  of  Ox- 
ford, he  travelled  for  improvement  into  France  and  Italy. 
Here  he  acquired  the  knowledge,  not  only  of  the  languages, 
but  of  the  literature  of  thefe  countries,  and  paid  particular  at- 
tention to  the  poetry  of  both  nations.  Befides  obtaining  an 
acquaintance  with  all  the  polite  learning  which  was  then  cul- 
tivated, he  was  no  inconfiderable  proficient   in  the  fa&idnable 

philofophy 


(9)  At  what  time  he  retired  to  the  convent  of  St.  Edmund's- 
Bury.  does  not  appear  \  but  he  was  certainly  there  in  1415.  He 
was  h'ving  in  1446,  aged  about  d^  ;  but  in  what  year  he  died,  is  not 
knoivn. — Lydgate,  according  to  Pits,  was  an  elegant  poet,  a  per- 
fuafive  rhetorician,  an  expert  ma*them!itician,  an  acute  phiiofopher, 
and  a  tolerable  divine.  He  was  a  voluminous  writer,  and  con- 
fidering  the  age  in  which  lie  lived,  an  excellent  poet.  His  lan- 
guage is  lefs  obfolete,  and  his  verfification  much  more  harmonious, 
than  the  language  and  verlincatiou  of  Chaucer,  who  wrote  about 
half  a  century  before  hira.  Encycl.  Bs.it. 


1  THREE   PHILOLOGIC AL 

philofophy  and  theology  of  his  cotemporaries.  The  vivacity 
of  his  genius,  and  the  vcrl'atility  of  his  talents,' enabled  him  to 
write  a  great  number  of  pogms,  extremely  diverfified  in  -their 
J\ibje6ls,  and  in  the  nature  of  their  compofition.  His  three 
chief  produdions  were  the  <*  Fall  of  Princes, ^^  the  "  Siege  of 
Thehes^''  and  the  "  DeJlruBion  of  I'royy — Lydgate  alfo  im- 
proved the  Englifli  tongue  ;  for  his  language  is  uncommon- 
ly perfpicuous  for  the  times  in  which  he  lived,  and  his  verfes 
frequently  excite  furprife  by  their  modern  caft.  He  feems  to 
have  been  ambitious,  at  leall  in  the  ilrufture  and  modulation 
of  his  ftyle,  of  rivalling  Chaucer  ;  but  undoubtedly  he 
v;as  far  "inferior  to  him  in  the  grand  requiiites  of  poetical  ex- 
cellence. His  mode  of  writing  is  difFufe,  and  Ije  is  not  diftin- 
guilhed  by  animation  or  pathos.  Neverthelefs,  he  is  not  def- 
titute  of  beauties,  and  his  Deftruftion  of  Troy,  in  particular, 
(difplays  much  power  of  defcription,  in  conjunction  with  clear 
5ind  harmonious  numbers.' 

*  If  it  were  compatible  vv'ith  the  nature  of  our  defign  to  enu- 
merate names  only,  other  perfons  might  be  added.  We  might 
mention  Hugh  Campedin,  Thomas  Chester,  John  Hard- 
ing (io),  who  v/rote  a  Chronicle  inVcrfe,  and  John  Norton 
and  George  Ripley,  whofe  poems  are  didaftic.  It  is  fcarce- 
lyexpreffing  ourfelves  with  propriety,  to  fay  that  thefe  men 
were    xnere  verfiiiers.     While  they  are   totally   void   of  the 

noble 


(lo)  As  a  fpecimen  of  this  chronicler'?  verification,  may  ferve 
the  fclloving  curious  lines/ which  Spelman  has  quoted  in  his 
"   Vita  ^elfrediy  p.  1 9 1.  Append. 

"  Alfrede  king  was  of  this  regioun 

That  brother  was  to  the  noble  Elthride, 

A  perfeft  Clerk  proved  in  opiriion 

As,Clcrks  could  difcern,  and  proved. 

In  knighthood  alfo  approved  and  notified 

So  plenerly,  that  no  man  knew  his  peer 

So  good  a  knight  he  was  and  fin^ulere. 

In  batails  many  in  his  father's  daies 

And  alfo  in  his  brethren  tiD|e  all  three 

He  fough.t  full  ofte,  and  barfe  him  wel  ahvales, 

That  for  hisdedes  and  fingularitee  ^ 

He  was  ccmraended  among  the  emnitce 

Within  the  land  and  out,  aswell  v,'as  know 

His  fame  among  the  people  hye  was  blowe." 


.  E  S  ,S  A  Y  S,    B  Y    A  D  E  L  U  N  G.  li 

noble'qaalities  which  conflltute  genuine  poetrj,  their  verri{I:a- 
tion  is  unpolifhed  and  barbarous.  Flarding  fliould  therefore 
be  marked  as  an  antiquary  and  an  hiflorian,  and  Norton  and 
Ripley  as  chemical  writers.  The  latter  is  underflood  to  have 
been  no  mean  proficient  in  the  general  literature  of  the  times.* 

*  However  deficient  the  minilrels  of  this  age  might  be  in  the 
excellencies  of  compofifion,  thej  were  great  favourites  with 
the  nation  atlarge.  This  is  evident  frotn  the  reward  which 
tiiey  received  for  their  attendance  on  particular  folemnitics. 
Superllitious  as  the  body  of  the  people  were,  they  manifeiled 
greater  liberality  towards  the  adminlftrators  to  their  pleafures, 
than  towards  the  leaders  of  their  devotion.  During  one  fea{l, 
while  twelve  priells  had  only  four  pence  each  for  finging  a 
dirge,  the  fame  number  of  minftrels  were  every  one  of  them 
rewarded  with  two  faillings  and  four  pence,  befides  having  en- 
tertainment provided  for  themfelves  and  their  horfes.  At  ano- 
ther feftival  two  lliillings  were  given  to  the  priefts,  and  four 
to  t'le  minflri'ls  ;  and  the  latter  were  treated  with  the  moil 
diilinguilhed  marks  of  attention  and  refpeft.' 

*  It  is  conje^lured  that  the  office  of  poet  laureat  originated  in 
this  period.  An  Italian  who  came  into  England  and  profelTcd 
to  be  an  imitator  of  tlie  great  Roman  hiflorian,  Livy,  ailumed 
tlie  name  of  Titus  Livius,  and  was  prote6led  by  Ilumphrey, 
Duke  of  Gloucefter.  He  wrote,  indeed,  a  judicious  Epitome  of 
Thomas  de  Elham's  hiftory,  but  did  not  attain  cither  the  ele- 
vation of  fentiment  or  dignity  of  (lyle,  v/hich  fo  eminently  dif- 
tinguifhed  the  model  he  wiflied  to  follow.  But  the  emploj^ment 
of  a  poet  laureat,  as  held  under  the  kirjg,  took  it's  rife  in  the  ■ 
reign  of  Edward  IV.  and  the  firft  perfon  thus  appointed 
was  John  Kay,  of  whom  no  compofition  is  extant,  which  can 
be  confidered  as  afferting  his  claim  to  this  chara6i?r.  The 
only  work  that  remains  of  him,  is  an  Engliili  tranOation  in 
profe  of  a  Hijlory  of  the  Siege  of  Rhodes.  A  crown  of  laurel 
was  fometJmes  conferred,  in  unlverfities,  on' thofc  who  had 
diflinguiiheil  themfelves  by  their  abilities  in  Latin  compofition, 
and  efpeclally  in  Latin  verfe.  Hence  the  king's  laureat  might 
be  nothing  more  than  a  graduate  of  this  kind,  employed  in  his 
n:iajefly'3  fervice.  The  laureats  appear  originally  .to  ,have 
written  only  in  Latin,  whiciLcuilom  is  fuppofed  to  have  con- 
tinued till  the  time  of  the  Reiormation.' 

*  If  the  difcoveries,  profefTedly  made  fome  years  ago  at  Brlf- 
tol,  in  1768,  are  to  be  credited,  we  mull  introduce  the  name  of 

a  poet 


lii  THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

a  poet  far  more  excellent  than  any,  whom  we  have  yet  n^ention- 
ed,  and  who  would  confer  honcyur  on  this  age,  iniinitely  great- 
er than  that  to  which  hitherto  it  has  eftabliflied  its  title.  Our 
readers  mufl  be  fenfible  that  we  allude  to  the  poems  which 
Chatterton  produced  as  the  works  of  Thomas  RowLtY, 
a  fecular  priefl  in  that  city,  in  the  fifteenth  century.  The 
full  difcuffien  of  this  fubjeft,  which  affords  a  very  curious 
literary  problem,  would  be  foreign  to  our  defign.  We  know 
that  Chatterton,  when  little  more  than  fifteen  years  of  age, 
brought  to  his  friends  certain  manufcripts,  and  a  great  num- 
ber of  poems,  faid  to  liave  been  tranfcrib.^ci  from  manufcripts, 
all  of  which  were  alleged  to  have  been  found  in  ah  old  cheft 
in  the  bdlfrey  of  St  Mary  Redcliffe  church,  and  to  contain 
tl^  genuine  produflions  of  this  Rowley.  We  know  that  thefe 
poems  are,  in  many  refpetls,  uncommonly  beautiful ;  and 
that  there  is  fomething  very  extraordinary  irt  them,  if  they 
were  the  compofitions  of  a  llripling  who  had  no  other  advan- 
tages of  education  than  what  could  be  derived  from  the  in- 
flra6tion  of  a  common  charity-fchool.  We  know  that  they 
exhibit  fuch  marks  of  knowledge,  and  are  otherwife  accom- 
panied with  circumftances  of  fo  furprifing  a  nature,  that  it  has 
been  deemed  not  only  a  matter  of  ailonilliment,  but  even  of 
impofEbility,  that  they  fliould  be  wriUen  by  Chatterton.  We 
know  that  the  authenticity  of  them,  and  the  exiftence  of  Row- 
ley, have  been  maintained  by  fome  able  and  learned  men,  with 
no  fmall  degree  of  acutenefs  and  ingenuity.  On  the  other 
hand,  very  important  arguments  and  authorities  have  been 
urged  to  prove  that  they  are  of  modern  fabrication.  That 
there  ever  was  fuch  a  perfon  as  Rowley,  has  been  called  in 
queilion,  j^nd  Hill  more,  that  there  could  be  any  poet  of  that 
name  in  the  fifteenth  century,  who  was  capable  of  producing 
the  works  afcribed  to  him.  It  is  aflced,  how  he  could  poflibly 
have  been  concealed  till  within  thefe  few  years,  and  how  he 
could  avoid  being  celebrated^  in  the  higheft  terms  of  applauie, 
by  his  own  cotemporaries,  and  by  every  fucceeding  age.  As 
to  the  manufcripts  aflerted  to  have  been  difcovered  by  Chat- 
terton, doubts,  which  will  not  admit  of  an  eafy  folution,  have 
been  railed  with  regard  to  the  truth  of  the  faiS:.  Independent- 
ly of  all  thefe  conliderations,  it  is  alleged,  that  the  poems, 
themfelves  afford  the  mofl;  decifive  internal  evidence  of  their 
being  recent  producTiions.  This  has  been  argued,  with  great 
force  of  rci^foning,  from  a  variety  of  concurring  circum- 
ftances. 


ESSAYS,    BY    AD  E  LUNG.  lili 

ftances.  The  ftjle,  compofition,  fentiments,  and  meafiire, 
carry  in  them  the  marks  of  a  refinement  that  was  wholly  un- 
known at  the  period,  in  which  they  are  profefTedly  written. 
In  the  abftraftion  of  ideas,  in  the  ftudied  forms  of  diftion,  in 
the  harmony  of  the  verfification,  we  are  conftantly  reminded  of 
our  lateft  poets.  The  llanza  principally  ufed  was  not  known 
in  this  country  till  the  time  of  Prior.  That  fuch  a  regular 
piece  as  the  'Tragedy  of  Ella  fliould  come  from  Rowley,  at  the 
period  pretended,  is  abfolutely  contrary  to  every  thing  of  the 
dramatic  kind,  which  exifted  at  ihat  period.  The  fa£l  feems 
to  have  been  that  Chatterton  originally  wrote  the  poems  in 
the  prefent  Englifli  language,  and  afterwards  inserted  the  old 
words  from  gloflaries  and  didlionaries.  It  is  remarkable  that 
when  we  perufe  Rowley  with  dean  Mills's  learned  notes,  the 
moment  we  turn  our  eyes  from  the  commentary  to  the  text, 
the  modern  air  of  the  latter  ftrikes  us  in  fo  forcible  a  manner^ 
that  the  dean's  elaborate  arguments  lofe  all  power  of  convic- 
tion. It  muft  be  added,  that  many  undeniable  proofs  have 
been  exhibited  of  the  moft  direft  imitation  of  recent  poets, 
even  to  the  adoption  of  their  very  words.  Thefe  and  other 
confiderations  have  induced  a  large  majority  of  our  ableft  an- 
tiquaries and  critics  totally  to  deny  the  authenticity  of  the' 
eompofitions  in  queftion.  Should  it,  however,  be  alio  wed  j 
that  certain  ancient  manufcripts  were  difcovered,  and  that 
fome  of  them  contained  fragments  in  verfe,  written  in  the  age 
pretended,  Rowley,  as  we  now  have  him,  appears  in  too  quef- 
tionable  a  fhape  to  give  the  fifteenth  century  the  honour  of 
the  works  publiihed  under  his  name.* 

*  But  while-i-Rowley  being  rejefted — it  will  be  found  that 
little  true  poetry  flouriflied  in  England  during  the  prefent  pe- 
riod ,  if  we  dired:  our  view  to  the  northern  kingdom  of  Great 
Britain,  we  fhall  meet  with  diftinguifhed  excellence  in  a  per- 
fon  of  the  higheft  llation,  the  fovereign  of  the  country.  It  is 
Jamks  1.  of  Scotland,  who  introduced  a  new  literary  epocha 
in  the  nation,  over  which  he  reigned.  What  originally  was 
a  great  misfortune  to  this  prince,  and  a  flagrant  aft  of  injuftice: 
towards  him,  turned  out,  in  one  refpeft,  eminently  to  his  own 
fervice,  and  highly  to  the  advantage  of  his  countiy.  When 
he  was  only  a  youth  of  thirteen,  he  was  treacheroufly  taken 
prifoner  by  the  Englifli,  and  detained,  during  the  term  of 
eighteen  years  in  a  confinement  which  was  often  very  ftrift 
and  rigid.     His  education^  however,  good  rudiments  of  which 

g  .he 


liv  THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

he  had  received  in  Scotland,  was  not  neglefted,  but  attended' 
to  with  the  utmoft  care.  The  perfon  appointed  to  be  his  go- 
vernor, was  Sir  John  Pclham,  a  gentleman  of  worth  and  lite- 
rature, who  omitted  nothing  that  could  tend  to  form  the 
mind  and  manners  of  his  royal  charge.  James,  being  blefled 
with  an  admirable  genius,  and  enjoying  the  ableft  mafters  of 
the  time,  made  an  uncommon  proficiency  both  in  bodily  exer- 
cifes  and  in  mental  acquirements.  To  his  knowledge  of  the 
Greek  and  Latin  languages,  the  laft  of  which  he  is  reprc- 
fented  as  having  written  with  eafe,  he  added  an  acquaintance 
ivith  the  philofophy  of  the  age.  But  the  fludies,  to  which 
he  was  more  particularly  devoted,  were  thofe  of  poetry  and 
mufic.  Thefe  liberal  and  pleafing  arts  formed,  in  his  long  and 
clofe  captivity,  the  principal  confolation  of  his  folitary  hours. 
When  he  was  reftored  to  the  pofleffion  of  his  thronej  froi» 
which  he  had  been  fo  unjuftly  withheld,  his  grand  object  was 
to  enlighten  and  civilize  his  countrymen.  Many  of  his  exer- 
tions- to  this  purpofe  were  accompanied  with  fuch  a  degree  of 
fuccefs,  that  he  may  be  faid  to  have  given  a  new  turn  to  the 
genius  of  Scotland.  His  exertions  and  fuccefs  would  have 
been  flill  greater  and  more  illuftrious,  if  he  had  not  been 
cruelly  murdered  in  the  forty-fourth  year  of  his  age.  Va- 
rious works  were  written  by  him,  both  in  profe  and  verfe, 
Wioft  of  which  are  unfortunately  loft  :  thofe  which  ftill  exift^ 
are  of  a  poetical  nature  ;  and  it  is  certain  that  feveral  of  his 
compolitions  of  this  kind  are  now  no  longer  in  being.  Four 
of  James's  pieces,  which  have  happily  efcaped  the  depreda- 
tions of  time,  are  a  "  Song  pn  his  Miftrefs  ;"  "  The  King's 
Quair  ;"  «  Peblis  to  the  Play  ;"  and  "  Chrifl's  Kirk  on  the 
Green."  The  King's  Quair  is  a  poem  of  large  extent,  being 
divided  into  fix  cantos.  Its  theme  is  the  royal  author's  love 
to  Jane,  daughter  to  the  Earl  of  Sommerfet  ;  a  beautiful  lady, 
<)f  whom  he  became  enamoured  while  a  prifoner  at  the  caftle 
of  Windfor,  and  who  was  afterwards  his  queen.  The  misfor- 
tunes of  his  youth,  his  early  and  long  captivity,  the  incidents 
which  gave  rife  to  his  paffion,  its  purity,  conftancy  and  happy 
iflhe,  are  all  difplayed  in  the  mode  of  allegorical  vifion,  a- 
greeably  to  the  reigning  tafte  of  the  age.  That  the  merit  of 
the  King's  Quair  is  very  great,  cannot  be  denied.  It  is  dis- 
tinguilhed  by  its  invention  and  faocy,  by  its  genuine  fimplici- 
ty  of  fentiment,  and  by  the  felicity  of  its  poetical  defcriptions; 
Several  men  of  ingenuity  and  tafte  have  contended  ;  that  James 

is 


ESSAYS,    BYADELUNG.  Iv 

is  littl-e,  if  at  all,  inferior  to  Chaucer.  If  the  former's  **  Court 
of  Venus"  be  compared  to  the  latter's  "  Court  of  Love,"  the 
royal  author  will  lofe  nothing  by  the  comparifon.  The  Jane, 
in  particular,  of  King  James,  is  painted  -yvith  a  beauty  and 
delicacy  that  are  not  equalled  in  Chaucer's  Rofial.  It  is  to  be 
lamented,  that  many  of  the  graces  of  the  King's  Quair  are 
concealed,  at  leaft  from  common  view,  in  the  antiquity  of  the 
language.' 

*  Three  other  Scottifti  poets  are  named  in  this  period,  but 
they  are,  on  the  whole,  contemptible,  when  compared  with 
the  monarch  of  the  country.  Andrew  Winton,  a  canon  re- 
gular of  St  Andrev<^^s,  and  Prior  af  the  monaftery  in  Loch, 
leven,  and  who  preceded  James  I,  wrote  in  verfe  a  very  large 
Chronicle  of  Scotland.  His  work,  which  is  valuable,  fo  far 
as  it  relates  to  fais  own  country,  and  which  contains  materials 
not  to  be  met  with  in  Fordun,  whom  he  had  never  feen,  has 
not  yet  been  publiihed.  Its  publication  would  be  a  defirable 
acceffion  to  the  hiitory  of  North  Britain  *.  Holland  was 
the  author  of  a  poem  entitled  *'  The  Howlat,"  which  appears 
to  have  defcribed  the  poetical  employments,  and  the  mufical 
entertainments  of  the  age.  Henry  the  Minftrel,  who,  on  ac- 
count of  his  being  blind  from  his  birth,  is  ufually  called  the 
Blind  Harry,  compofed  the  "  Life  of  Wallace."  It  is  a 
romance,  like  Barbour's  Bruce,  but  not  to  be  ranked  with  it 
in  point  of  excellence.  At  the  fame  time,  it  is  not  deftitute 
of  merit,  and  there  are  various  things  in  it,  which  cannot  fail 
to  gratify  the  curiofity  of  the  antiquary  and  the  critic' 

*  Caxton  f  comes  before  us  in  the  charader  of  an  author, 
.  '  g  a  as 

*  It  has  fince  been  publiflied  at  London,  in  2  Vols.  8vo, 

f  William  Caxton,  a  mercer  of  London,  eminent  for  the 
books  he  publifhed,  and  foi  being  reputed  the  &t&  who  praftifed 
the  art  of  printing  in  England.  He  died  at  a  very  advanced  age, 
probably  above  eighty,  in  1494. — Much  cannot  be  faid  in  his 
praife  as  an  author  ;  for  his  language  is  rather  uncouth  ;  of  which 
ike  following  is  a  fpecimcn,  extrafted  from  his  Chronicle  : 

"  King  Alfred  reigned  30  years,  and  a  good  king  he  had  been, 
and  wel  coude  chaftife  his  enemies,  for  he  was  a  good  Clerc  and 
let  make  many  bokes.  And  a  boke  he  made  of  Englifh  of  aven- 
tures  of  Kings,  and  of  batails  that  had  ben  done  in  the  lond  : 
and  many  other  bokes  of  geftes  he   let  hem  write  that  were  of 

grete 


Ivi  THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

as  well  as  in  that  of  a  printer.  He  is  reckoned  among  the 
hiftorians  of  his  age  ;  but  in  this  relpcft  he  is  entitled  to  a 
very  fmall  degree  of  applaufe.  His  chief  merit  is  that  of  a  trans- 
lator. The  books  printed  by  him,  were  more  than  fifty  in 
number  ;  fome  of  them  very  large  volumes  j  and  many  of 
them  were  verfions  from  foreign  writers,  made  by  himfel'f.' 

*  Among  the  patrons  of  learning,  in  this  period,  the  name  of 
Humphrey,  Duke  of  Gloucejier,  flands  foremoft  ;  a  man  of 
an  amiable  chara£ler  in  our  civil  hiflory.  He  is  celebrated 
by  Occleve  as  a  Angular  promoter  of  literature,  and  the  com- 
mon patron  of  the  fcholars  of  the  times.  Befides  him  two 
other  names  ought  to  be  mentioned,  whofe  merits  were  great 
and  eminent.  John  Tiptoft,  Earl  of  Worcejler^  and  An- 
thony WiDViLi.F,  Karl  RiverSy  were  not  only  protestors  and 
promoters  of  fcience,  but  writers  themfelves.  So  emi- 
nently was  the  former  at  the  head  of  literature,  and  fo  mafter- 
ly  an  orator,  that  when,  upon  a  vifit  to  Rome,  he  delivered 
an  oration  before  Pope  Pius  11,  he  drew  tears  of  joy  and  ad- 
miration from  that  celebrated  and  learned  pontiff.  The  light 
in  which  he  is  now  only  known  to  us  by  his  own  works,  is 
that  of  a  tranflator.  Of  his  original  produ£lions  no  more  than 
a  few  letters  and  fmall  pieces  are  remaining  in  manufcript. 
Anthony  Widville,  greatly  to  his  honour,  was  the  friend  of 
Cnxton,  whofe  new  art  he  patronized  with  zeal  and  liberality. 
The  fecond  book  printed  in  England  was  a  work  of  Earl 
Rivers's.  He  alfo  employed  himfelf  principally  m  tranfla- 
tions,  according  to  thefafliion  of  the  times,  and  what  was  thea 
the  beft  mode  of  conveying  inflruftion  to  the  kingdom.  Be- 
fides thefe  he  wrote  feveral  ballads  againft  the  feven  deadly 
fins. — Imperfedt  as  the  writings  of  Tiptoft  and  Widville  may 
now  be  deemed,  great  prajfe  is  due  to  them  for  their  zealous 
endeavours  to  promote  the  caufe  of  learning,  and  to  fpread  a- 
mong  their  countrymen  a  regard  to  mental  accomplifhments. 
The  example-;  of  men  fo  illuftrious  could  not  fail  of  producing 
fome  good  effefts.  It  muft  ever  be  lamented  that  thefe  two 
eminent  noblemen  met  with  fo  untimely  and  unhappy  an 
end ;  both  of  them  having  been  beheadec^  when  they  were 
little  more  than  forty  years  of  age.' 

*  Another 


grete   wifSom  and  good  lerr.ing  j  thurgh  which  bokes  many  a  man 
may  liim  amende  that  will  hem  rcadc." 

W. 


lESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.  Jvii 

'  *  Another  author  deferves  to  be  recorded  at  the  conclufion 
of  this  period,  not  indeed  on  account  of  great  merit,  but  for 
the  fake  of  her  fex.  This  was  Juliana  Bf.rners,  prio- 
refs  of  Sopewell  Nunnery,  near  St.  Albans.  She  did  not  em- 
ploy herfelf  altogether  in  penning  devout  meditations  and 
rules  of  holj  living,  but  being  a  woman  of  rank  and  fpirit, 
fhe  wrote  on  hawking,  hunting  and  fifhing.  That  part  which 
relates  to  hunting  is  in  rhyme.  This  lady  is  the  fecond,  at 
leaft  in  point  of  time,  of  any  of  our  female  writers,  and  the 
firft  who  appeared  in  print.' 

*  To  the  number  of  hiftorians  of  this  age,  whofe  works 
were  compofed  in  Latin,  we  muft  add  the  name  of  Robi-kt 
Fabian,  who  wrote  in  Englifh.  He  was  a  merchant  and 
alderman  of  London,  and  confequently  a  member  of  a  corpo^ 
ration  which  has  produced  few  literary  men,  and  in  which 
many  learned  characters  are  not,  in  the  nature  of  the  thing, 
to  be  expefted.  His  fituation*  therefore,  in  life,  efpecially 
confidering  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  may  be  regarded  as 
giving  a  certain  degree  of  celebrity  to  his  hiftorical  charafter. 
The  Chronicle  of  his  compofition  is  entitled  by  him  the  Con- 
cordance of  Sins  ;"  it  is  apparently  written  with  fincerity,  and 
its  language  is  intelligible.  Befides  the  more  public  fadls'which 
it  includes,  it  contains  a  variety  of  particulars  relative  to  the 
city  of  London.  As  Fabian's  work  is  carried  down  to  the 
twentieth  year  of  the  reign  of  Henry  VH.  he  may  in  pax't  be 
confidered  as  belonging  to  the  following  period.' 

In  the  manners  ;  in  the  political  conilitutions  ;  in  the  cul- 
toms  ;  and  confequently  alfo  in  the  languages  of  almoft  every 
European  nation,  great  changes  are  difcoverable  during  the 
fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries.  Thefe  changes  cannot  be 
explained  otherwife  than  from  the  conftant  increafe  of  popu- 
lation. The  order  of  knighthood,  which  hitherto  had  been 
the  only  pride  of  nations,  began  much  to  decline  ;  on  the  o- 
ther  hand,  the  lower  claffes  of  the  people,  till  then  very  much 
oppreffed,  recovered  from  their  abjecl  fervitude,  and  formed 
a  happy  middle  rank  which  foon  became  the  feat  of  inventive 
genius,  of  thriving  commerce,  of  the  arts,  and  the  fciences. 
The  influence  thus  occalioned  in  language,  will  be  eafily  re- 
cognized by  him  who  is  acquainted  with  the  exadl  relation 
which  languages  bear  to  the  whole  circuit  of  ideas,  and  the  de- 
gree of  tafte  prevailing  in  a  nation.  The  queftion,  here,  relates 
only  to  the  Englilh  language,  the  progrefs  of  which,  during 

the 


Hin  THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

the  fourteenth  century,  particularly  towards  the  end  of  it , 
was  indeed  very  remarkable.  '1  he  liock  of  words  it  contain- 
ed, .had  now  become  too  fmall  and  infufScient  to  exprefs  the 
acceilion  of  many  new  ideas  ;  and  therefore  its  continual  aug- 
mentation from  the  French,  with  which  it  had  already  frater- 
nized in  the  preceding  ages,  may  be  without  difficulty  uader- 
ftood. 

Divijlon  Third -f  from  1485  #o  1558:  or 
From  Henry  VII.  to  the  end  of  Q^  Mart. 

*  Of  the  Englifh  poets  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VII,  th« 
writer  who  beil  deferved  that  name  was  Stlphhn  Hawes  : 
he  was  patronized  by  this  monarch.  One  of  his  principal 
produftions  was  entitled  the  **  Tenaple  of  GlalTe  ;"  which 
xv-as  founded  upon  Chaucer's  "  Houfe  of  Fame."  Previous 
to  Hawes,  for  almoft  a  century,  nothing  had  appeared  but  Le- 
gends, Homilies,  and  Chronicles  in  verfei  His  capital  per- 
formance, however,  was  the  "  Pajfetyme  of  Fleufurey  In 
this  poem  there  is  an  effort  of  imagination  and  invention  ;  and 
it  contains  fome  ilriking  inftances  of  romantic  and  allegoric 
£6lioH.  In  point  of  verfification,  he  improved  upon  Lydgate, 
and  was  fuperior  to  that  poet  in  genius  and  fancy.  In  the 
harmony  of  numbers,  and  clearnefs  of  expreffion  he  alfo  ex- 
celled his  immediate  predecefTors  and  cotemporaries.' 

*  Another  poet  who  flourilhed  in  this  reign  was  Alexander 
Barclay.  His  principal  work  is  the  **  Zhip  ofFooles,''^  It 
teas  chiefly  taken  from  a  German  original,  and  from  two  trans- 
lations of  that  original,  one  iru  French  and  the  other  in  Latin. 
Barclay  made,  however,  fome  additions  of  his  own. — The 
language  of  this  writer  is  more  cultivated  than  that  of  many 
of  his  cotemporaries,  and  he  had  the  honour  of  contributing 
fomewhat  to  the  improvement  of  the  phrafeology  of  his  coun- 
try. Befides  other  pieces,  Barclay  was  the  author  of  five 
Eclogues,  which  were  the  firfl  of  the  kind  in  the  Englifh 
tongue.  They  were  formed  upon  the  plan  of  Petrarch  and 
Mantuan,  being  of  a  moral  and  fatirical  nature,  and  containing 
but  few  ftrokes  of  rural  defcription  and  bucolic  imagery.' 

*  John  *Alcock,  independently  of  his  charader  as  a  divine 
and  a  bifhop,  was  in  many  refpedls  a  man  of  diflinguifhed  a- 
biiities.  And  though  he  wrote  upon  the  Penitential  Pfalms  in 
Englifh  verfe,  we  cannot  prefume  to  rank  him  as  a  poet.' 

<  Three 


ESSAYS,    BY    AD  E  LUNG.  Ux 

*  Three  verfifiers  in  this  period,  William  Walter,  Henr? 
Medwall,  and  Lawrence  Wade,  fcaicely  deferve  any  no- 
tice.— The  dramatic  entertainments  called  *'  Moralities ^^"^  ap- 
pear to  have  been  carried  to  their  height  about  the  clofe  of 
tlie  prefent  reign.  A  great  contriver  of  them  was  John  Ras- 
TALL,  a  learned  printer,  and  brother-in-law  to  Sir  Thomas 
More.  This  fort  of  fpeftacle  had  hitherto  be<in  confineiiy 
either  to  moral  allegory  or  to  religion  blended  with  buffoonery  ; 
but  Raftall  formed  the  defign  of  rendering  it  the  vehicle  of 
fcience  and  philofophy.' 

*  To  Scotland  we  ftand  indebted  for  names,  in  Henry  the 
Seventh's  reign,  which  are  unrivalled  in  England.  That  coun- 
try produced  writers  who  adorned  the  age  with  a  degree  of 
fentiment  and  fpirit,  a  command  of  phrafeology,  and  a  ferti- 
lity of  imagination,  not,  perhaps,  to  be  found  even  in  Chaucer 
or  Lydgate.  Thefe  writers  exhibited  llriking  fpecimens  of 
allegorical  invention,  a  mode  of  compofition  which  for  fome 
time  had  been  almoft  totally  extinguiihed  in  England.  Wil- 
liam Dunbar  and  Gawin  Douglas  are  the  vko  principal 
perfons  to  whom  this  high  praife  is  due.' 

*  Dunbar,  the  chief  of  the  ancient  Scottiih  poets,  wrote  a 
eonfiderable  number  of  poems,  the  two  longeft  of  which,  and- 
the  moft  celebrated  are  '*  The  Thiftle  and  the  Rofe,"  and 
**  The  Golden  Terge."  The  former  was  occafioned  by  an 
evenfwhich  ultimately  produced  the  union  of  the  two  crowns 
and  kingdoms  ;  namely  the  marriage  of  James  IV  of  Scot- 
land, with  Margaret  Tudor,  the  eldefl  daughter  of  Henry 
Vn  of  England.  In  the  latter  he  endeavours  to  fhew  the 
gradual  and  imperceptible  influence  of  love,  when  too  far  in- 
dulged over  reafon Dunbar  unites  in  himfelf,  and  generally 

furpaffes,  the  qualities  of  the  chief  Englifh  poets  ;  the  moral? 
and  fatire  of  Langland;  Chaucer's  humour,  poetry  and  know- 
ledge of  life  ;  the  allegory  of  Gower  ;  the  defcription  of  Lyd- 
gate.' 

*  Douglas  attained  to  great  excellence  in  claffical  learning. 
This,  in  conjurftion  with  the  natural  vigour  of  his  xnind,  en- 
abled him  to  fuftain  a  new  chara6ler,  that  of  a  poetical  tran- 
flator,  not  from  the  old  French  metrical  romances,  but  from 
the  models  of  the  Auguilan  age.  In  his  early  youth,  iie 
tranflated  Ovid's  Art  of  Love  ;  but  he  afterwards  raifed  his 
ithoughts  to  a  much  nobler  and  more  difficult  undertaking,  ■ 
which  was  a  complete  tranfiation  in  heroic  verfe,  of  the  iEneid 

of 


Ix  THREEPHILOLOGICAL 

of  Virgil.  The  defign,  which  had  long  been  entertained  by 
him,  was  accomplilhed  in  the  fpace  of  lixteen  months,  and  it  is 
executed  with  equal  fpirit  and  fidelity  Dr  Johnfon  repre- 
fents  Mr  Pope's  verfion  of  Homer,  as  a  verj  important  ob- 
je£l  in  the  hiftorj  of  the  literature  of  this  country,  though  it 
was  performed  at  the  time,  when  learning  and  tafte  were  in  a 
high  {late  of  cultivation  in  England.  What,  then,  are  we  to 
think  of  fuch  a  work  as  that  of  Gawin  Douglas's  in  a  period 
comparatively  rude  and  unpoliflied  ?  No  metrical  tranflation 
of  a  Claffic  had  yet  appeared  in  Englifli,  unlefs  we  are  difpofed 
to  give  that  appellation  to  Boethius.  Virgil  was  hitherto 
generally  known  only  by  Caxton's  romance  on  the  fubjeft  'of 
the  jEneid  ;  concerning  which  Douglas  aflerted,  that  it  no 
more  refemhled  Virgil  than  the  devil  was  like  St  Aujlin.^ 

'  Henry,  Earl  of  Sinclair^  was  the  particular  friend  and 
patron  of  Gawin  Douglas  ;  for  it  was  at  the  Earl's  requeft 
that  Douglas  undertook  the  tranflation  of  the  ^Eneid  ;  though 
he  is  eminent  not  only  as  a  tranflator,  but  as  an  original  wri- 
ter. His  allegorical  poems,  "  King  Hart,"  and  '*  Palice  of 
Honour"  excel  in  the  fame  fpecies  of  compofition  ; — the  fe- 
treral  books  of  his  tranflation  of  Virgil  are  introduced  with 
metrical  prologues,  which  difplay  a  moft  extraordinary  degred 
of  poetical  beauty.  Milton's  L' Allegro,  and  II  Penferofo  have 
been  reckoned  the  earlieft  defcriptive  poems  in  Englifli.  If 
that  was  the  cafe,  Scotland  produced  the  fineft  examples  of 
this  delightful  fpecies  of  compofition,  nearly  a  century  and  a 
half  before.' 

*  An  illufl;rious  lady  tnuft;  be  mentioned  as  an  author  as  well 
as  a  patronefs  of  letters;  Margaret,  Countefs  of  Richmond 
and  Derby,  the  mother  of  Henry  VII.  In  point  of  time,  flie 
fucceeds  Julia  Bergers,  being  the  third  female  writer  in  Eng- 
land. Her  works  were  chiefly  tranflations  of  the  devotional 
kind  ;  though  Ihe,  likewife,  at  the  defire  of  her  fon  the  king, 
drew  up  orders  with  regard  to  the  precedence  of  great  and 
noble  ladies,  at  public  pfoceflions,  and  efpecially  at  funerals.' 

*  At  the  time  when  the  nobility  in  general  were  inx'olved 
in  grofs  ignorance,  Algernon  Percy,  the  fifth  Earl  6f  Nor- 
thumberland diiliiiguiflied  himfelf  by  being  the  proteftor  of 
genius.  SKrLTON  was  encouraged  by  him  to  writ?!  an  elegy 
oin  the  death  of  his  father  ;  but  what  particularly  ijlarked  the 
Earl's  literary  tafte  and  his  love  for  poetry,  was  a  very  fplen- 
did  manufcript  tranfcribed  for  his  ufe,  containing  a  large  col- 

jcclion 


•ESSAYS,   BY    ADElUNG.  Ixi 

leftion  of  Englifli  poems,   finely    engroffed  on    vellum  and 
fuperbly  illuminated.^ 

*  The  prime  glorj  of  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII,  with 
refpeft  to  Polite  Literature,  was  Sir  Thomas  More. 
Though,  according  to  Mr  Hume,  there  was  no  man  in  this 
age  who  had  the  leaft  pietenfion  to  be  ranked  among  our 
claffics,  he  acknowledges  that  Sir  Thomas  feems  to  come  near- 
eft  to  that  charafter  :  with  all  his  religious  weaknefles,  he  was, 
indeed,  one  of  the  greateft  ornaments  of  his  time.  "  Sir  Thomas 
More,"  fays  Mr  Warton,  "  is  reverenced  by  pofterity  as  the 
fcholar  who  taught  that  erudition  which  civilized  his  country, 
and  as  the  philofopher  who  met  the  horrors  of  the  block  with 
that  fortitude  which  is  equally  free  from  oftentation  and  en- 
thufiafm :  as  the  man  whofe  genius  overthrew  the  fabric  of 
falfe  learning,  and  whofe  amiable  tranquillity  of  temper  tri- 
umphed over  the  malice  and  injuftice  of  tyranny."  His  Uto- 
pia may  be  regarded  as  an  ethical  as  well  as  a  political  cona- 
poiition.  His  hiftory  of  the  reigns  of  Edward  V.  and  Richard 
IH,  is  far  from  being  efteemed  among  the  bell  of  his  produc- 
tions.—*The  hiftorical  works  of  JoHK  Rastall,  George  Lil- 
ly, and  Edward  Hall,  have  little  claim  to  notice  ;  though 
Hall  is  of  fome  ufe  to  the  antiquary  ;  by  the  attention  which 
he  pays  to  the  variations  of  drefs  and  of  fafhion.' 

*  This  period  was  not  unfruitful  with  regard  to  poetict 
writers.  John  Skelton  *  exceeded  the  lieentioufnefs  of  the 
times,  and  was  cenfured  by  his  cotemporaries.  His  charafter- 
iftic  vein  of  humour  is  capricious  ana  extravagant ;  his  lub- 
jefts  are  often  ridiculoi^s  ;  and  his  matter  is  fometimes  de- 
bated by  his  verfificalion.  In  a  fhort  ode,  which  was  com- 
pofed  by  him,  he  has  exhibited  a  fpecimen  of  the  ftrufture 
and  phrafeology  of  a  love-fonnet,  about  the  beginning  of  the 
fixteenth  century.  Notwithftanding  his  fcuirility,  he  was  a 
claffical  fcholar.' 

'  Moralities  ftill  continued  to  hold  their  rank  among  the 
principal  entertainments  of  the   times,  and  they  were  repre- 

h  fented 


*  The  editor  of  the  Mufcs  Library  (E.  Cooper)  calls  Skelton 
the  reftorer  of  invention  in  EngliJ})  poetry.  Amon^  his  numerous 
performances,*'  The  Crown  of  Laurel,"  is  oneofthebeft,  and 
he  dlfplays  in  it  confidcrab  6  wit  and  humour  j  he  died  at  Well- 
tainfter  Abbey,  1529. 


Ixii  THREE   PHILOLOGICAL 

fented  by  different  bodies  of  men.  When  more  regular  playis 
eame  to  be  compofed,  fome  of  them  were  a6):ed  at  the  Inns  of 
Court.  At  thefe  feminaries,  mafques  and  interludes  were  oc- 
cafionally  performed,  during  feveral  fucceeding  reigns.  The 
firft  inftance  of  this  kind,  that  is  particularly  recorded,  occurs 
in  1527,  when  a  comedy  written  by  John  Roos,  a  ferjeant  at 
law,  was  reprefented  in  the  great  hall  of  the  fociety  at  Gray's 
Inn.'  ^ 

*  Henry  Howard  *,  Earl  of  Surrey,  was  a  poet  of  a  charac- 
ter far  fuperior  to  that  of  Skelton.  This  accomplifhed  noble- 
man led  the  way  to  grej^t  improvements  in  Englifli  poetry. 
Some  of  his  ftanzas  approach  to  the  eafe  and  gallantry  of 
Waller,  and  exhibit  fpecimens  of  correal  verfification,'polifli- 
ed  language,  and  mufical  modulation.  It  is  remarkable,  that 
his  tranflation  of  the  fecond  and  fourth  books  of  Virgil's 
^neid  is  the  firft  compofition  in  blank  verfc  that  occurs  in  the 
Englifh  language.' 

*  Sir  Thomas  Wyat's  genius  was  of  the  nioral  and  didaftic 
kind ;  and  his  poems  are  more  diftinguifhed  by  good  fenfe^ 
fatire  and  obfervations  on  life,  than  by  pathos  or  imagination. 
He  may  juftly  be  efteemed  the  firft  poliihed  Englifli  fatirift — 
There  was  an  inviolable  friendfliip  between  Wyat  and  Surrey, 
arifing  perhaps  chiefly  from  a  fimilarity  of  ftudies.  Befides 
adopting  the  fame  principal  fubjeft  for  their  poetry,  the  paf- 
fion  of  love,  they  were  alike  anxious  to  improve  their  native 
language,  and  to  attain  the  elegancies  of  compofition.' 

*  Other  poets  of  this  period,  and  of  high  rank,  were  SiR 
Francis  Bryant,  the  friend  of  Wyat ,  George  Boleyn, 
Viscount  Rochford,   brother  to  Queen  Ann  Boleyn  ;  and 

Nicholas  Lord  Vaux,  an  eminent  ftatefman  and  foldier 

In  Tottel's  colieftion  of  the  poetical  writings  of  this  period, 
is  found  the  firft  example,  that  is  known  in  our  language,  of 
the  pure  and  unmixed   paftoral.     It  is  an  example,  likewife, 

of 


*  He  was  the  firft  of  the  Englifh  Noblemen,  who  diftinguifhed 
himfclf  by  a  fcllowfhip  with  the  mufcs.  In  purity  of  language  and 
fweetnefs  of  found,  he  far  furpaffed  his  cotemporaries  and  prede- 
celTors.  (E.  Cooper).  His  imprudence,  in  adding  fome  part  of 
the  Royal  arms  to  his  own,  being  defcended  from  the  heroic  King 
Edward  I,  coft  him  his  head  5  though  juftified  by  the  Heralds. 
He  was  executed  January  19,  1547. 


ESSAYS,   BY    ADELUNG.  Ixlli 

»f  extraordinary  merit.  In  eafe  of  numbers,  elgance  of  rural 
allufion,  and  fimplicity  of  imagery,  there  is  nothing  of  the 
kind  equal  to  it  in  Spencer.  The  lame  coUedlion  affords  one 
of  the  earlieft  inftances  of  the  pointed  Englifh  epigram  ;  and 
it  is  fuppofed  that  it  came  fiom  the  pen  of  Sir  Thomas  More. 
Several  poems,  which  were  chiefly  the  performances  of  his 
youth,  were  written  by  Sir  Thomas  in  his  native  tongue.' 

*  Nicholas  Grimoald  was  the  next  Englifh  poet,  after  the 
Eail  of  Surrey,  who  wrote  in  blank  verfe  ;  he  gave  to  this 
new  mode  of  verfification,  additional  ftrength,  elegance,  and 
modulation.  Grimoald  wrote,  like  wife  in  rhyme  ;  in  which 
refpeft  he  is  inferior  to  none  of  his  cotemporaries,  for  a  maf- 
terly  choice  of  chafte  expreilion,  and  the  concife  elegancies  of 
didactic  verfification.  Some  of  his  couplets  have  the  fmart- 
nefs  which  marks  the  modern  llyle  of  fententious  poetry.'  . 

*  Andrew  Borde,  John  Bale,  Brian  Ansley,  Andrew 
Chertsey,  Wilfrid  Holme,  Charles  Barnsley,  and  Ed- 
ward Haliwji^ll,  were  poets  of  a  fubordinate  clafs  in  this 
period,  of  whom  it  is  fufficient  to  mention  their  names.' 

John  Hetwood,  commonly  called  the  Epigrammatifl,  is  re- 
prefented  by  fome  as  the  firll  writer  of  comedies  in  England. 
Though  moralities  and  interludes  were  written  and  performed 
Jong  before  the  time  of  Heywood,  it  muft  be  allowed,  that  he 
is  among  the  firft  of  our  dramatifts  who  drove  the  Bible  from 
the  flage,  and  introduced  reprefentations  of  familiar  life  and 
popular  manners.' 

*  The  poetry  of  Scotland  during  the  reign  of  Henry  VHI. 
was  much  declining.  The  writings  of  Sir  David  Lindsay 
were  very  numerous  and  extremely  popular,  on  account  of 
^heir  being  applied  to  the  purpofes  of  the  Reformation. 
Another  Scots  poet  of  this  period  was  Sir  James  Inglis.-  His 
principal  performance,  the  "  Complaint  of  Scotland"  is  well 
written  for  the  time,  and  difplays  abundance  of  learning.  In 
one  of  his  compofitions ,  he  mentions  a  number  of  poets  of  his 
country  as  then  living,  that  is,  about  the  year  1530.  Thefe 
are,  Culrose,  Kyd,  Stewart,  Stewart  of  Lorn,  Gal- 
BREITH,  Kinloch,  ancl  Ballentyne.  Concerning  four  of 
^hefe  perfons,  nothing  is  known.  Lord  Hailes  has  publifhed 
fome  pieces  of  the  Stewarts  ;  and  Ballentyne,  muft  mean  John 
Ballenden,  the  tranflator  of  Hedor  .  Boethius's  Hiftory  of 
Scotland,  in  which  work  he  has  interfperfed  feveral  poems, 
and  particularly  .^one  entitled  "  Virtue  and  Vyce,"  which  has 

h  2  been 


Ixiv  THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

been  reprinted.  The  author  of  the  article  concerning  Bal- 
lenden,  in  the  Biographia  Britannica,  reprefents  his  writings 
as  diftinguifhed  hy  that  noble  enthufiafm'  which  is  the  very 
foal  of  poefy.' 

*  About  this  time  was  produced,  by  an  unknown  writer, 
a  comedy  called  Pbilotus,  which  is  extremely  valuable  for  its 
curious  pitSlures  of  life,  manners,  drcfs,  and  other  circumllances 
relative  to  the  age  in  which  it  was  compofed.' 

*  Among  the  number  of  noble  authors  in  the  time  of  Henry 
VIII,  the  names  of  Lord  Morley,  and  John  Bourchier, 
Lord  Berners,  IHII  deferve  honourable  mention.  The  former 
appears  to  have  been  a  multifarious  writer,  in  profe  and  verfe  ; 
he  chiefly  dillinguifhed  himfelf  as  a  tranflator,  and  certainly 
was  one  of  fhe  moll  learned  noblemen  of  that  age.  The  lat- 
ter alfo  tranllated  Froiffart's  IJhronicle,  by  the  command  of 
the  king,  befides  which  he  wasf  the  tranflator  of  fome  French, 
Italian,  and  Spaniih  novels The  only  circumftance  that  en- 
titles John  Lord  Lumley  to  the  appellation  of  an  author,  is 
his  having  tranflated  into  Engliih,  Erafmus's  Inftitution  of  a 
Chriiliau  Prince*.' 

*  This  aera  was  likewife  adorned  with  fome  female  authors 
of  high  rank.  The  principal  of  thefe  were,  Catherine  Parr, 
the  lafl;  wife  of  Henry  VI H,  and  Margaret  Rcper,  the  fa- 
vourite daughter  of  Sir  Thomas  More.  The  works  of  the 
former,  which  were  partly  originals  and  partly  tranflations, 
are  entirely  of  a  religious  nature  :  the  compofitions  of  the 
latter  were  not  confined  to  the  Engliih  language ;  lor  Ihe 
wrote  the  Latin  with  no  fmall  degree  of  elegance.' 

*  Some  idea  of  the  literary  charadterand  tafle  of  an  age  may 
be  formed  from  the  nature  of  its  publications.  The  works 
iffued  by  the  prefs,  were  numerous  •,  and  among  thefe,  contro- 
verfial  treatifes  and  devotional  writings  held  a  principal  place. 
It  is  furprifing  what  a  number  of  law  books  appeared  in  this 
period — Magna  Charta  was  fo  often  reprinted  that  it  may 
hence  be  judged,  that  our  anceltors  were  extremely  attentive 
to,  ittd  had  a  high  value  for  that  grand  fecurity  of  Engliih 
liberty.' 

*  Sir  John  Cheke  can  never  be  mentioned  with  too  much 
refpeft,  as  one  of  thofe  who  firft  introduced  genuine  litera- 
ture into  this  country.  In  a  plan  of" innovation,  which  he  had 
formed  with  regard  to  th«  orthography  of  the  Englifli  language, 
be  "Vva?  neither  fo  happy,  nor  fo  fuccefsful,  as  he  bad  been 

in 


ESS  AYS,    B  Y    ADELUNG.  Ixv 

in  reftoring  the  pronunciation  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  tongues.' 

*  Sir  Thomas  Smith  alfo  dire£led  his  attention  to  his  na- 
tive language,  which  he  wss  folicitous  to  refine  and  to  polilh. 
He  publiflied  a  treatife,  the  objeft  of  which  was  to  promote 
the  correft  writing  of  the  Engliih  tongue,  and  the  true  found- 
ings of  the  letters  and  words.  If  he  carried  the  matter  to 
fome  degree  of  excefs,  and  propofed  alterations  that  would  not 
be  produdive  of  much  advantage,  he  has  only  erred  in  common 
with  other  ingenious  and  learned  men.' 

*  Roger  Ascham  was  an  excellent  compofer  in  his  own 
tongue.  Sir  Thomas  More  excepted,  he  was  perhaps  the 
fii  ft  of  our  fchoiars,  who  ventured  to  break  the  fhackles  of 
J^atinity,  bj  publiftiing  his  Toxophilus  in  Englifh.  This 
he  did  with  a  view  of  giving  a  pure  and  corre6l  model  of 
Englifli  compofition,  or  rather  of  fhewing  how  a  fubj eft  might 
be  treated  witji  grace  and  propriety,  in  Englifli  as  well  as  in 
Latin.  His  Vindication  of  his  conduft,  in  attempting  fo  great 
an  innovation,  difplaj'-s  the  fonndnefs  and  ftrength  of  his  un- 
derftanding.  Dr.  Johnfon  obferves  of  Roger  Afcham,  that 
his  philological  learning  would  have  gained  him  honour  in 
any  country ;  and  that  among  us  it  may  juftly  call  for  that 
reverence  which  all  nations  owe  to  thofe  who  firft  roufe  them 
from  ignorance,  and  kindle  among  them  the  light  of  literature.* 

*  The  poetical  annals  of  Edward  VI.  are  marked  with 
metrical  tranflations  of  various  parts  of  Scripture.  Of  thefe 
the  chief  is  the  verfiiication  of  the  Pfalms  by  Sternhold  and 
Hopkins,  a  performance  which  is  entitled  to  no  regard  from 
its  own  merit.  Wyat  and  Surrey  had  before  tranflated  fome 
of  the  Pfalms  into  metre  ;  but  Thomas  Sternhold  was  the 
firft  whofe  metrical  verlion  of  them  was  ufed  in  the  church 
of  England.  His  co-adjutor,  John  Hopkins,  was  rather  a 
better  poet  than  himfelf.  His  other  afliftants  were,  Thomas 
Norton,  and  William  Wyttingham,  afterwards  Dean  of 
Durham.  The  fpiiit  of  verfifying  the  Pfalms,  and  other 
parts  of  the  Bible,  was  generally  diiFufed  at  the  beginning  of 
the  reformation  ;  and  among  the  reft  that  employed  them- 
felves  in  this  way,  were  William  Hunis,William  Baldwin, 
Francis  Seager,  and  Matthew  Parker,  afterwards  aich- 
bilhop  of  Canterbury.  Another  contributor  to  the  metrical 
theology  was  Robes^.t  Crowley,  an  Oxford  Divine  ;  and 
another  ftill  more  extraordinary  one  was  Christopher  Tye, 
a  Dodor  of  Mufic  at  Cambridge.    Tye  projefted  a  tranflation 

,  of 


xvi  THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

of  the  Afls  of  the  Apoftles  into  familiar  metre,  of  which  he 
completed  onlj  the  fii  li  fourteen  chapters.  The  Book  of  Kings 
had  before  been  verfified  bj  another  hand.  Dr.  Tye  carried 
his  abfurditj  fo  far  as  to  ft  his  verfion  to  mufic  ;  and  his  A&s 
of  the  Apoftles  were  fung  for  a  time  in  the  rojal  chapel  of 
Edward  VI.  Even  this  good  kiig  himfelf  is  to  be  ranked 
among  thj:  religious  poets  of  his  reign. ^ 

*  Among  the  anonymous  poems  of  this  period,  we  maj 
reckon  the  iirfl  drinking  ballad  of  any^  merit,  in  the  Englifli 
language,  which  appeared  in  the  yczv  1551.     It  has  a  vein  of 

.  eafe  and  humour,  fuperior  to  what  might  have  been  expected 
Jn  thofe  times  ;  and  it  rnay  be  confidered  as  the  parent  of  ma- 
ny pleafing  compolitions,  which  have  highly  contributed  to 
convivial  cntertairsment.  This  ballad  opens  the  fecond  aft  of 
'•'  Ganamer  Gurton's  Needle,"  a  comedy  written  and  printed 
in  the  year  juft  meurioned,  and  which  was  foon .afterwards 
afted  at  Chrift's-'Jollege  in  Cambridge.  It  is  the  firll  Eng- 
lifli play  which  was  neither  myftery  nor  morality,  and  which 
bandies  a  comic  ftory  with  fome  difpofition  of  plot,  and  fome 
difcrimination  of  chara6ler.  Earlier  in  the  reign  of  Edward 
VI,  we  find  a  poet  of  the  name  of  Kelton,  who  wrote  the 
*'  Chronicle  of  the  Brutes,"  in  Englifh  verfe.* 

*  King  Edward  VI.  ftands  in  the  lift  of  royal  authors, 
and  he  is  juilly  entitled  to  that  diftindion.  Confideriag  the 
times  in  which  he  lived^  and  the  early  period  of  his  death, 
hia  Journal  of  his  own  reign,  his  Remains,  and  his  other 
compolitions  difplay  fuch  a  promife,  and  indeed  fuch  a  pof- 
fcfSon  of  abilities,  as  add  greatly  to  the  regret  arifing  from 
liis  premature  deceafe The  Duke  of  Somerset  has  obtain- 
ed a  place  among  the  noble  writers  of  the  age.  His  principal 
title  to  this  honour  is  founded  on  one  or  two  religious  pieces, 
which  were  penned  during  his  troubles. — Edmund  Lord 
Sheffield  is  faid  to  have  compofed  a  book  of  bonnets  in  the 
Italian  manner. — Henry  /Lord  Stafford,  and  Francis 
Hastings,  fecond  Earl  of  Huntingdon,  exerted  their  talents 
only  as  tranflators.' 

*  iThe  female  authors  belonging  to  this  fliort  period,  are 
confiderable  in  number,  and  eminent  for  their  ftation.  The 
principal  of  them  are.  Queen  Mary,  Lady  Jane  Grey,  Ma- 
ry Roper,  and  Lady  Elizabeth  Fane.  Several  other  ladies 
of  high  rank  diftinguilhed  themfelves  as  tranflators  from,  and 
into,  the   Greek   and  Latin  languages  ;  among   thefe  w^e  find 

Ladj 


ESaAYS,  BY   ADELUNG.         Ixxn 

La<!y  Joanna  Lumley,  and  Lady  Mary  Howard,  Dutshefs 
of  Norfolk.'  '<■ 

«  Under  Qieen  Mary,  notwithftanding  the  wretched  fitua- 
tion  of  the  piblic,  arifing  from  the  horrid  perfecutions  which 
bigotry  was  carrying  into  execution,  poetry  aflumed  a  higher 
tone.  A  pcem  was  planned,  though  not  fully  completed, 
which  fiieds  lo  common  luftre  on  the  dark  interval  between. 
Surrey  and  1-penser.  This  poem  was  entitled  "  A  MirrouT 
for  Magiftrats,"  and  in  the  compofition  of  it  more  writers 
than  one  wee  concerned.  Its  primary  inventor,  however, 
and  moft  diflinguifhed  contributor,  was  Thomas  Sackville, 
afterwards  lord  Buckhuril  and  Earl  of  Porfet,  and  who  ia 
the  next  reigi  w'ill  come  before  us  as  the  author  of  the  firfh 
genuine  Engifh  tragedy.  The  objeft  of  the  **  Mirrour  for 
Magiftrates,'"was  to  make  all  the  illuftrious  but  unfortunate 
chara^lers  ir.  our  hiftory  to  pafs  in  review  before  the  poet, 
who  defcends  like  Dante,  into  the  infernal  regions,  and  is  con- 
duced by  So  row.  A  poetical  preface  called  an  "  Induction," 
and  one  Legaid,  which  is  the  life  of  Henry  Staftbrd,  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  were  the  only  parts  executed  by  Sackville.  The 
completion  o"  the  whple  was  recommended  by  him  to  Bald- 
wyn,  before  nentioned,  and  George  Ferrers,  who  carried  it 
into  executioi,  with  the  affiftance  of  Churchyard,  Phayer, 
SkeLTon,  Se.gers,  and  Cavyl.  Among  thefe  finifhers  of 
the  '*  Mlrroir  for  Magiftrates,"  Ferrers  was  the  moil  emi- 
nent in  point  •f  abilities  ;  but  he  compoCed  ito  more  than  three 
of  the  .  Legencs,  far  the  greater  number  of  them  having  been, 
written  by  Bsldwyn.  As  to  the  poetical  merit  of  the  work, 
it  refts  almoll  entirely  with  Lord  Euckhurst,  whofe  Induftion 
and  Story  of  tie  Duke  of  Bucki  igham  contain  many  proofs  of 
a  vigorous  fancy,  and  many  fpleudid  palTages.' 

*  Another  poet  of  this  period  was  Richard  Edwards. 
whofe  principjl  work  was  the  "  Paradife  of  daintie  Devifes." 
What  chiefly  aititles  him  to  notice  is,  that  he  was  one  of  the 
earliefl  of  our  dramatic  writers,  after  the  reformation  of  the 
Britifh  ftage — In  Thomas  Tusskr  we  meet  with,  perhaps, 
the  firft  exhibiiion  of  dida£lic  poetry  in  this  country.  He  was 
the  author  of  a  work  in  rhyme,  the  title  of  which  was,  "  Five 
Hundred  points  of  good  Hufbandrie,"  and  which  has  more  iw 
it  of  the  limpUcity  of  Hefiod,  than  of  the  elegance  of  Virgil. 
Indeed,  it  is  b  deftitute  of  poetical  ornaments,  that  its  fole 
value  arifes  from   its  being  a  genuine  pidure  of  agriculture, 

the 


Ixvili       THREEPHILOLOGICAL 

the  rural  arts,'  and  the  domeftic  cEconomy  and  cuftoms  of  ottr 
anceftors. — "VA^lliam  Forrest  brings  up  the  rear  of  our 
poets,  but  with  no  degree  of  fplendour.  He  compofed,  in 
oftave  rhyme,  a  panegyrical  hiflory  of  th6  life  of  Catherine, 
the  firfl  Queen  of  Henry  VIII.  His  other  poens  do  not  de- 
fer ve  a  diftin£l  fpecification.| 

*  The  only  Scotch  poet  we  fliall  now  take  notice  of,  is  Alex- 
ander Scot,  the  Anacreon  of  his  time  and  covntry.  If  the 
age  in  which  he  liv^d  be  confidered,  his  pieces  an  correft  and 
elegant.  He  wrote  chiefly  upon  fubjefts  of  lovf,  and  ftands 
at  the  head  of  the  ancient  minor  poets  of  Scotlani.' 

Divijion  Fourth  ;  from  1558,  /o  1625    6r 

During  the  reigns  of  Q^.  Elizabeth  and  Kiig  JameS  I. 

*  In  a  fcene  of  great  and  unavoidable  theolqgical  difputa- 
tion,  the  fcholars  of  England  were  obliged  to  din6l  their  prin- 
cipal attention  to  objeds  that  were  efteemed  cf  infinite  im- 
portance ;  and  confequently  they  had  not  mudi  leifure  for 
refearches  into  the  niceties  of  languages  and  Laming.  We 
have  no  names  in  Elizabeth's  reign,  that  can  be  compared 
with  Sir  John  Cheke,  Thomas  Smith,  and  Riger  Afcham, 
•whom,  in  the  preceding  Divifion  of  this  Hilbry,  we  have 
mentioned  as  eminent  improvers  of  claffical  taft«.  Smith  and 
Afcham  may  in  part  be  confidered  as  belonging  to  the  reign 
of  Elizabeth  ;  for  Smith's  "  Treatife  on  the  poper  mode  of 
writing  the  Englifti  language,"  was  not  pubiftied  till  the 
year  1568  ;  and  "  Aicham's  Schoolmafler"  wis  firft  printed 
in  1573.'^ 

*  One  circumftance,  which  contributed  to  tie  increafe  of 
knowledge  in  general,  and  to  the'  improvement  of  the  Englilh 
language  in  particular,  was  the  multiplicity  of  tranflations. 
This  multiplicity  conAitutes  a  llriking  feature  in  the  literary 
charader  of  the  age.  On  the  benefits,  which  nay  be  derived 
from  tranflations,  it  is  needlefs  tc  enlarge.  Bdidfis  the  great 
ftore  of  materials,  fcientific,  literary,  and  entertaining,  which 
they  import  into  a  country,  they  promote  a  more  accurate  ac- 
quaintance with  the  language  from  which  they  are  made,  and 
enrich  the  tongue  into  which  they  are  rendered.  A  much 
fuperior  advantage  might  have  refulted  from  them,  at  the 
time  we  are  treating  of,  if  our. writers  had  been  better  judges 

of 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.         Ixix 

of  die  fubjedl,  and  if  they  had  not,  in  particular,  moll  of  them, 
entertained  an  opinion,  that  it  was  neceflary^or  verfions  to 
be  ftriftlj  literal.' 

*  The  Greek  authors,  which  now  appeared  in  En^lifli  trans- 
lations, were  briefly  the  following.  Ten  books  of  Homer's 
Jliad,  from  a  metrical  French  verfion  of  that  work  ;  by  Ak- 
THUH  Hall  :  a  complete  and  regular  verfion  of  Homer,  from 
the  original  ;  by  Gugrgk;  Chapman  :  Mufaeus  (according  to 
a  poetical  paffage  of  Drayton)  ;  by  the  fame  author  :  the 
Jocaila,  or  the  PhsenilTae  of  Euripides  ;  by  George  Gas- 
coiGNE,  and  Francis  Kinwelmersh  :  Ariilotle's  famous  trea- 
tife  on  the  ten  categories;  by  Barnaby  GooGti;  feven  ora- 
tions of  Demofthenes  ;  by  Thomas  Wilson  :  Heiodian's 
Hiftory,  from  a  Latin  verfion  of  Angelus  Politianus ;  by 
Nicholas  Smith  :  Xenophon's  Inftitution  of  Cyrus,  from 
the  original ;  by  William  Hercheh,  or  as  he  is  called  in  an- 
other edition  .of  the  book,  Wylliam  Barkar  :  the  Table  of 
Ccbes,  from  a  Latin  verfion  ;  by  Sir  Anthony  Poyngz.  It 
is  the  firft  tranflation  of  Cebes  that  appeared  in  the  Engliib 
language — Abraham  Fleming,  who  was  a  frequent  tranfla- 
tor,  among  other  works,  produced  in  Englifh,  Aelian's  various 
Hillory.  Something,  likewife,  of  Ifocraies  came  from  the 
fame  hand  ;  and  alfo  Synefius's  Panegyric  on  Baldnefs,  which 
had  been  brought  into  fallnon  by  Erafmus's  Eucomiuin  on 
Folly.  Fleming  was  of  confiderable  fervice  to  the  literature 
of  his  country,  by  rendering  into  Engliih  many  celebrated 
books,  which  had  beea  written  in  Latin  about  the  fifteenth 
century,  and  at  the  redoration  of  learning. —  The  only  remain- 
ing tranflation  from  the  Greek,  of  which  we  are  able  to  give 
an 'account,  is  that  of  the  ten  books  of  Heliodorus's  Ethiopic 
Hiflory,  by  Thomas  Underdowne.  By  the  publication  of 
this  work,  a  new  field  of  romance  was  opened,  which  is  fup- 
pofed  to  have  fuggefled  to  £ii-  Philip  Sidney  the  fcheme  q£ 
his  Arcadia.' 

'  The  tranflations  from  the  Latin  poets  were  more  numer^ 
pus  than  from  the  Greek.  Seneca's  ten  tragedies  were  trans- 
lated by  different  poets,  at  difFeient  times,  and  they  were 
printed  together  in  1581.  The  Hyppolitus,  the  Medea, ,  the 
Hercules  Oeteus,  and  the  Agamemnon  were  tranflated  by 
John  Studley  ;  the  Odavia,  by  Thomas  Nuce,  or  NtwcE  ; 
the  Oedipus,  by  Alexander  Nevyle,  who,  in  the  fixteeath  • 
year  of  his  age,  produced  the   mofl  fpirited  and  elegant  verr 

i  lion 


Ixx         THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

fion  in  the  colledion  ;  the  Hercules  Furens,  the  Thjefles  and 
the  Troas  of,^  Seneca,  hy  Jasper  HiYWood,  fou  of  John 
Heywood  the  Epigrammatift ;  and  laftl/.  the  Thebais,  by 
Thomas  Newton,  the  publiiher  of  the  whole.' 

*  Early  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign,  the  firft  four  books  of 
Ovid's  Mctamorphofis  were  traiiflated  by  Arthur  Goi.ding  j 
and  in  a  ftiort  time  afterwards,  he  completed  the  whole  His 
ilyle  is  poetical  and  fpirited ;  he  excelled  many  of  his  cotem- 
poraries  as  a  trauilator  and  a  poet  ;  his  vcrfions  of  many 
modern  Latin  writers  were  then  of  conliderable  utility,  as 
being  adapted  to  the  condition  and  opinions  of  the  times. 
The  Fafti  of  Ovid  were  rendered  into  Englifh  verfe  by  an 
author  whofe  name  does  not  appear ;  and  Thomas  UvDER- 
powNE  not  only  gave  a  tranflation  of  the  Ibis,  but  illuftrated 
It  with  annot;tions.— Christopher  Marloe  was  fo  void  of 
principle  and  decency,  as  to  tranflate  the  elegies  of  the  fame 
poet ;  the    elegant  language  of  v/hich  can  make  no  atonement 

for  their  obfcenities Ovid's   Remedy  of  Love  met  with  an 

anor.yraous  tra;iflator.  A  verfion  of  the  Heroical  Epiftles  was 
publiiljcd  by  Thomas  TuBERViLLE.-^There  exifts,  it  is  faid, 
one  of  Ovid's  Epiftles  tranflated  by  the  accorapliihed  Earl  of 
Eflex.  But  if  it  could  be  recovered,  it  is  probable  that  it 
would  only  be  valued  as  a  curiohty  ;  fince  it  is  apparent, 
from  a  few  of  his  Sonnets,  which  are  preferved  in  the  Afh- 
molean  Mufeum,  that  he  was  not  endued  with  a  poetic  ge- 
nius— Filially.  Ovid's  three  iirft  books  of  his  Triftia  were 
tranflated  by  Thomas  Chukchyard.' 

*  Great  attention  was  alfo  paid  to  the  prince  of  Latin  poets, 
Virgil,  riiomas  Phayer,  as  mentioned  in  the  pi-^ceding  Di- 
vifioD,  had  tranflated  in  the  reign  of  Q^Mary,  the  feven  liril 
books  of  the  ^neid.  He  afterv/ards  tiniflied  the  eighth  and 
nir-th  books,  but  died  foon  after  he  had  begun  the  tenth.  This 
ill  perfe£l  work,  after  a  fpace  of  more  than  twenty  years, 
was  completed  by  Thomas  'i  wyne.  To  the  four  laft  books 
of  Virgil,  Twyne  added  a  tranflation  of  Maphoeus's  fupple- 
meiJtal  book.  The  reafon  of  Phaser's  undertaking  this  verfion, 
according  to  his  own  account,  was  to  infpire  the  young  nobi- 
lity, gentry,  and  ladies  of  this  country  with  a  feni'e  of  the 
riches  of  their  native  tongue,  and  to  Ihew,  that  the  Englifli 
language  was  not,  as  too  many  thought,  incapable  of  proprie- 
ty and  elegance. — Robert  Stanyhukst.  a  native  of  Dublin, 
alfo  tranflated  the  four  firft  books  of  the  J&ineid  into  Englifii 

hexameters. 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.  Ixxi 

hexameters.  He  was  more  unfortunate  In  the  meafure  of 
his  verfification  than  his  predeceflbrs,  and  he  was  not  equal 
to  them  in  other  refpefts. — The  Bucolics  and  Georgics  of 
Virgil  were  tranflated  as  literal  as  poffible,  by  rendering  verfe 
for  verfe,  in  the  regular  Alexandrine  without  ihjme,  by  A- 
BR>HAM  Fuming  ;  he  afterwaids  publifhed  feparately  the 
Alexis  of  Virgil,  tranflated  into  Eaglifli  hexameters,  verfe 
for  verfe.-^EnMU-'^'D  Spknser  condefcended  to  tranflatej 
though  in  a  vague  and  paraphraftical  manner,  the  Culex  af- 
cribed  to  Virgil.' 

*  Thomas  Drant  publifhed  a  tranflation  of  the  two  books 
of  Horace's  Satires,  which  was  followed  bj  the  Epiftles,  and 
the  Art  of  Poetr  j.  The  tranflator  was  at  firft  very  paraphraf- 
tical, but  afterwards  endeavoured  to  be  fo  literal  as  well 
nigh  to  render  word  for  word,  and  line  for  line.  Timothy 
Kf.KDALL  did  not  obtain  much  glory  by  the  fpecimcns  which 
he  exhibited  of  his  application  to  claffical  literature.  His  per- 
formance cannot  ftriftly  be  called  a  tranflation  of  Martial.  be« 
Caufe  it  includes  epigrams  from  many  other  writers,  modern 
as  well  as  ancient.  Martial^  however^  forms  the  principal  ba- 
fis  of  thework.' 

*  Marloe  gave  a  verfion  in  blank  Verfe  of  l=he  firfl:  book  of 
Lucan.  His  death  prevented  his  carrying  on  the  defiga,  which, 
in  the  reign  of  James  I,  was  completed  by  Georgl-  Chap- 
Man  but  in  a  very  inferior  manner  — The  Thebais  of  Statius^ 
was  tranflated  by  Thomas  Nkwton.' 

*  Befides  the  tranflacion  of  the  ancient  Latin  claflic  poetSj 
verfions  were  not  uncommon  from  fome  of  the  modern  poeti- 
cal writers  in  the  fame  language.  Among  others,  Mantuan, 
who  had  acquired  the  rank  of  a  claflic,  was  tranflated  by 
TUBERviLLE. — Another  favourite  author,  among  the  Englifli 
fcholars  in  this  period,  was  Palingenius,  whofe  '*  Zodiac'* 
was  rendered  into  Englifli  verfe  by  Ba.N-by  Googe  ;  and 
the  tranflation  had  the  good  fortune  of  the  original,  to  •be  ve- 
ry much  admired.' 

*  The  tranflations  from  the  ancient  Latin  profe  writers 
were  not  fo  numerous  as  from  the  poets.  Golding,  whom 
we  have  already  mentioned  with  due  refpe6l,  enlai.-ged  the 
knowledge  of  the  treafures  of  antiquity,  by  his  veiiions  of 
Jufl:in's  Hiftory,  Caefar's  Commentaries,  and  Sen  »ca's  fine 
moral  treatife  on  Benefits.  Works  of  lefs  confequ  ence,  ren- 
dered into  Englilh  by  Golding,  were  Pompoiiius  M.fcln's  Geo- 

i  2  graph*. 


lixii  THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

j^aphy,  and  the  *'  Polyhiflory"  of  Solinus. — Cicero's  Oration 
for  Archias  was  tranflatecl  by  Drant — Abraiiam  Fleming 
puLliihed  a  tranflation  of  certain  feie<Sl  epiiUes  of  Cicero,  and 
afterwards  gave  a  lai-ge  coUefticn  from  the  fame  author,  to 
which  were  added  letters  of  Pliny,  and  of  other  writers. — 
Tally's  offices  were  tranflated  by  Nicholas  Grimald,  a  poet 
of  the  age  ;  and  fo  adapted  was  the  book  to  general  inftruc- 
tion,  that  it  was  feveral  times  reprinted. — One  of  the  mofl 
important  tranflations  of  this  period,  was  that  of  the  four  firlt 
books  of  Tacitus,  and  the  life  of  Agricola,  by  Sir  Henry  Sa- 
viLLE.  This  tranflation  was  accompanied  with  notes  ;  which 
were  deemed  of  fuch  confequence,  that  they  were  afterwards 
rendered  into  Latm  by  Gruther,  and  publilhed  at  Amfterdam.' 
'  The  books  that  were  chiefly  rendered  mto  Englifli  from 
Italian  and  French  authors,  were  of  the  fictitious  and  narra- 
tive kind.  Among  the  produdilions  of  this  nature,  thofe  of 
Botcace  were  the  moft  diftinguiflied  favourites  ;  and  the  ver- 
fions  made  from  different  parts  of  his  works,  were  very  nu- 
inerous.  Indeed  the  Italian  language  now  began  to  be  fo 
fafliionable,  that  Diftionaries  and  Grammars  of  it,  written  in 
Englifli,  became  common  publications.  The  principal  peifons 
tvho  figured  as  tranflatois,  were  Gi-.ORGt  Gascojgne,  GlOf- 
FRY  Kent o>r,  Thomas  Tub^  rville,  George  \Vh.  tstonf^ 
Sir  Jam.-.s  Hakrington,  and  Edward  Fairfax. — One  of 
the  works  tranflated  by  Gafcoigne,  is  a  comedy  of  Ariofto's 
called  '*  Suppofiti."  which  was  afted  at  Gray's  Inn.  This 
tranflation  is  in  pfofe ;  and  it  is  obfervable,  that  it  was  the 
firft  comedy  in  profe  which    was  compofed   in   our  language; 

and  exhibited  upon  our  11  age The  mofl:  valuable  of  Fenton's 

various  ptrforqiances,  was  his  verlion  of  the  twenty  books  of 
Guicciardin's  Hiftory  of  Italy  ;  for  in  this  he  prefented  to  his 
readers  not  fidion  but  truth ;  and  truth,  too,  of  the  tirft 
importance  — Sir  James  Harrington's  trar.flation  of  Ariofto'd 
Orlando  Furiofo,  was  a  great  undertaking  ;  and  though  it  is 
neither  executed  with  fpirit  nor  with  accuracy,  it  contributed 
to  enrich  our  poetry  with  faew  llores  for  the  imagination, 
both  of  the  romantic  and  comic  fpecies.  A  wonderful  union 
was  prefented  to  the  reader  of  Gothic  machinery  and  familiar 
manners. — Edward  Fairfax  concludes  the  lift  of  poetical  trans- 
lator%  v^ith  no  fmall  degree  of  eminence  and  celebrity.  As 
he  lived  till  the  year  1632,  he  is  commonly  reckoned  amoncj 
the  poets  of  James  ihe  Firft's  time.     The  grand  work,  upon 

\  which 

A 


ESSAYS,    BY   ADELUNG.       Kxiii 

which  hia  reputation  wholly  depends,  the  tranflation  of  Taffo's 
**  Jerufalem  delivered,"  was  performed  by  him  in  very  early 
life,  and  was  publifhed  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign,  to  whom 
it  was  aedicated.  It  undoubtedly  Hands  at  the  head  of  the 
poetical  vvirfions  of  that  aera.  This  tranflation  is  particularly 
diftinguilhed  by  the  harmony  of  its  verfification,  in  which 
refped:  lie  ranks  nearly,  if  not  entirely,  upon  a  level  with 
Spenfer.  Waller  acknowledged  that  he  had  learned  his  num- 
bers from  Fairfax.' 

*  In  general  it  may  be  obferved,  that  the  beft  ftoriea  of  the 
early  and  original  novelties  of  Italy,  in  one  form  or  other,  were 
given  in  an  Englifh  drefs.  The  verfions  from  French  authors 
were  lefs  frequent,  and  for  the  moft  part  of  lefs  importance. 
With  regard  to  tranflations  from  the  ancient-,  \jLr  Warton  has 
remarked,  thatalmoft  all  the  Greek  and  Roman  claflics  appear- 
ed before  the  year  1600.  1  he  remark  we  conlider  as  too 
general.  Were  we  to  enter  into  an  enumeration  of  them,  it 
would  be  feen,  that  many  of  the  fineft  claffic  writers,  both  ia 
proie  and  verfe,  were  left  untranflated' 

*  Imperfeft  as  the  multifarious  tranflations  of  this  period 
were,  they  contributed,  amongll  other  caufes,  to  excite  a  fpi- 
rit  of  criticifm,  and  an  attention  to  the  laws  of  compofition. 
This  fpirit,  hovveverj  had  been  previoufly  difplayed  by  one  of 
the  authors  of  the  age,  of  whom  little  notice  had  been  taken,  till 
Mr  Warton  drew  him  out  of  obfcurity.  It  is  Thomas  Wil- 
son *,  who  in  Q^  Mary's  reign,  (though  he   flouriflied  chiefly 

in 


*  This  great  improver  of  the  Englifh  language  was  a  native  of 
Lincolnftiire,  and,  in  1541,  vvas  admitted  a  fcholar  of  King's  Col- 
lege, in  Cambridge.  He  became  fellow  of  the  College,  and 
whillt  he  refided  at  the  Univerfity,  was  tutor  to  the  two  celebrated 
youths,  Henry  Duke  of  Suffolk,  and  Lord  Charles  Brandon,  his 
brother.  In  due  courfe,  he  took  the  degree  of  Do<3or  of  Laws, 
and  was  afterwards  one  of  the  ordinary  mafters  of  requtlts,  and 
mailer  of  St  Catherine's  Hofpital  near  the  Tower.  Being  a  man 
of  bufinefs  as  well  as  learning,  he  was  at  times  employed  by  Queen 
Elizabeth  as  ambaflador  to  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  and  into  the 
low  countries.  At  length  he  rofe  to  be  a  fecretary  of  Hate,  and  a . 
privy  counfellor.  In  1579  he  waS  appointed  Dean  of  Durham, 
and  died  in  Ij8i.  It  i?  faid,  that  Dr  Wilfon  was  endued  with  an 
uncommon   ilrength  of  memory,  and  that  this  enabled  him  to  aft 

I  with 


isxW        THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

jn  Elizabeths)  publilhed  an  Art  of  Rhetoric  in  Englifb. — A 
technical  and  elementary  manual,  in  our  own  tongue,  written 
by  Leonard  Cox,  had  indeed  appeared  many  years  before  ; 
but  Wilfon*s  treatife  is  more  liberal  and  dil'curfive.  It  has 
the  merit  of  having  illuflrated  the  arts  of  eloquence  by  ex- 
ample, and  of  having  examined  and  afcertained  the  beauties  of 
compofition  with  the  fpeculative  (kill  and  fagaclty  of  acritic  : 
fo  that  this  work  may  juftly  be  confidered  as  the  firil  fyftem 
of  criticifm  that  appeared  in  our  language.  The  four  parts 
belonging  to  elocution  he  ftates  to  be  plainnefs,  aptnefs,  com- 
jWiition,  and  exornation,  and  has  fome  excellent  obfervations 
on  fimplicity  of  ftyle.  Among  other  leflbns,  this,  he  fays^ 
iiould  be  firfl  learned,  never  to  affect  any  ftrange  inkhora 
terms,  but  to  fpeak  as  is  commonly  received  ;  and  he  ftrong- 
iy  condemns  thofe  writers  who  feek  fo  far  for  outlandifli  Eng- 
liib,  that  they  altogether  forget  their  mother  tongue.  It  ap- 
pears from  the  work,  that  to  write  elegantly  in  Englifli  now 
began  to  be  falLionable,  and  to  meet  with  the  higheft  ap- 
plaufe.' 

*  Another  compofition  of  a  fimilar  nature  with  Wilfon's 
Art  of  Rhetoric,  though  more  confined  in  its  objecl,  was  PuT- 
Tenham's  "  Art  of  Englilh  Poefy."  Puttenham  had  right 
notions  of  the  true  character  of  a  poet,  which  is,  to  be  pofl'eflf- 
cd  of  a  creative  genius.  Accordingly,  he  commonly  ufes  the 
word  "  Maker"  for  poet ;  and  he  was  the  firft  author  that 
brought  this  exprelTion  into  fafl:iion,  the  fignificancy  of  which 
has  been  much  commended  by  Sir  Philip  Sidney  and  Ben  John- 
fon.  ImperfciSt  as  Puttenham's  work  is  upon  the  whole,  it  was 
the  only  piece  of  poetical  criticifm  of  any  confequence,  that 
England  produced  for  a  long  period.  Indeed,  nothing  of  im- 
porta  ^ce  appeared  on  tlie  fubjed,  till  Dryden  began  to  write 
liis  prefaces.* 

*  During  Elizabeth's  reign,  the  Englifh  language  was  car- 
ried by  fome  writers  to  a  high  degree  of  perfeftion.  There  have 
not  been  wanting  perfons  who  have  thought,  that  our  native 
tongue  then  rofe  to  the  grcateft  excellence  which  it  has  ever 

attained; 


v.ith  reraarkable  difpatch  in  his  negociatlons.  He  was  the  author 
of  vaiious  other  works  befides  the  two  which  we  had  occafion  to 
Jneution,  and  was  one  of  the  moft  accompliflied  fcholars  of  his 
rniic-.  New  Ann.  Reg. 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.         Ixxv 

att  lined  ;  and  Dr  Johnfon,  we  believe,  has  cxpreffed  the  fame 
opinion.  In  this  opinion,  however,  we  do  not  ag-ree,  though. 
we  are  fenfible  of  the  extraordinary  merit  of  a  few  individnais. 
Amongft  thefe,  particular  praifes  are  due  to  Richard  Hookkr, 
a  celebrated  divine.  He  exhibited  a  fine  model  of  the  reafoning 
llile  in  his  famous  "  Ecclefiaftical  Polity  ;"  a  work  that  re- 
fleils  high  credit  on  his  powers  of  reafonin^,  a:id  the  extent 
of  his  literature.  In  this  admirable  produAion  he  fet  a  riuble 
example  to  his  fucceiTors  ^  an  exainple  which  was  fuccefbfullj 
followed  by  a  Chillin'Tworth,  a  Locke,  and  a  Hoadlj — Sir 
"Walteir  RaL'  IGH  afforded  feveral  proofs,  in  this  reign,  of 
that  dignity  of  compofition  which  he  afterwards  difplayed  in 
his  diftory  of  the  World William  Perkins,  an  eminent  Di- 
vine at  Cambridge,  is  faid  to  haA^e  written  the  bed  languags 
of  any  of  that  age  or  the  next,  and  that  many  paiTages  in  his 
writings  arc  equal  to  thofe  of  the  bell  authors  in  modern  times.' 

*  Spme  of  the  ilatefmcn  of  Elizabeth's  reign  excelled  in  the 
propriety,  freedom,  and  ftrength  of  their  ftyle.  This  was  the 
cafe  with  Roblkt  DtviEEUx.  Earl  of  EITex  ;  Robert  Dub- 
ley,  Earl  of  Leicefter  ;  and  Thomas  Ratcliffe,  Earl  of  8uf- 
fex.  Of  all  the  illuilrious  charafters  of  this  period,  none,  witli 
rerp^;'^  to  E  iglili  cainioricjoa,  was  equal  to  the  Earl  of  liLGTex, 
the  Queen's  unfortunate  favourite.  In  a  variety  of  inftances 
he  gave  ample  proofs  of  his  being  both  a  vigorous  and  an 
elegant  writer.  Indeed,  public  men  may  be  more  likely  to 
excel  in  this  refpeft  than  mere  fcholars.  The  latter,  being 
confined  to  their  clofets,  contraft  a  formality  and  lliiFnefs 
of  ftyle  ;'  and  this  was  particularly  the  cafe,  when  the  learn- 
ed by  profeffion  did  not  fo  generally  mix  with  the  world,  as 
is  cuftomary  at  prefent.  But  thofe  who  are  engaged  in  the 
grand  fcenes  of  bufinefs,  who  have  their  talents  called  into 
exercife  by  frequent  and  ftriking  emergencies,  and  who  follow 
th^  diftates  of  tHeir  immediate  feelings,  provided  they  have 
had  a  tolerable  education,  acquire  an  eafe  and  variety  of  ex- 
preffion,  which  the  others  cannot  readily  attain.' 

*  Englifli  Poetry   alTumed  a  peculiar  importance   and  cha- 
rafler  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth.    This  was  owing  to  a  variety 

of  caufcs  and  circuniftances The  age  we  are  treating  of  has 

often  been  called  the  golden  age  of  our  poetry  ;  and,  if  this 
may  not  be  true  in  the  ftricleft  fenfe,  it  was  certainly  a  very 
poetical  aera,  and  few  periods  can  be  mentioned  in  our  hiftory, 
wliich  fhine  in  that  view  with  fupenor  lultre.     The  principal 

features. 


bcxvi        THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

features,  that  ftri^ce  us  in  the  poetry  of  the  times,  are  the 
predominancy  of  fables,  fidion,  and  fancy,  and  a  fondnefs  for 
interefting  adventures  and  pathetic  events.  This  charaderif- 
tic  diflin£lion  may  be  chiefly  referred  to  the  following  prin- 
ciples, v/hich  were  fometimes  blended,  and  fometimes  had  a 
£ngle  operation.  Tlie  principles  we  fpeak  of  were  the  revival 
and  vernacular  verfions  of  the  dallies  ;  the  vifionary  reveries 
or  rehnements  of  falfe  philofophy  ;  a  degree  of  fuperilition, 
fufiicient  for  the  purpofes  of  poetry  ;  the  adoption  of  the  ma- 
diineries  of  romance;  and  the  frequency  and  improvement  of 
allegoric  exhibitions  in  the  popular  fpedacles.' 

*  Many  circumilances  contributed  to  giVe  a  defcriptive,  a 
|ji(R;urefque,  and  figurative  call  to  the  poetical  language  of  our 
ccmtry  ;  and  even  the.profe  compofitions  of  Elizabeth's  reign 
took  a  tinifture  from  the  fame  caufes.  In  the  mean  while, 
general  knowledge  wars  widely  and  rapidly  incresriing.  Book§ 
began  to  be  mulriplie.1,  and  many  ufeful  and  rational  topics 
had  been  difcufled  in  our  own  tongue.  Science,  at  the  fame 
time,  had  not  made  fuch  great  advances  as  to  damp  the  fpirit 
of  invention' (fi£l ion).  On  the  v/hole,  we  were  now  arrived 
at  a  period  that  was  eminently  propitious  to  original  and  true 
poetry.  It- was  a  period  in  which  genius  was  rather  direfted 
tlian  governed  by  judgment ;  and  in  which  tafle  and  learning 
had  fo  far  only  difcipliued  imagiiiation,  as  to  fuiTer  its  exceffes 
to  pafs  without  cenlure  or  coutroul,  for  the  fake  of  the  beau- 
ties to  which  they  were  allied.' 

*  At  the  time  when  the  objeds  pointed  out  by  us  were  cal- 
culated to  have  a  powerful  operation  upon  the  nature  andcha- 
racler  of  our  poetry,  a  genius  of  the  firft  order  arofe,  who  was 
animated  with  a  fidl  portion  of  the  fpirit  of  the  age,  and  capa- 
ble of  painting  it  in  all  its  energy.  This  genius  was  Spenser, 
and  the  production  we  allude  to,  his  "  Faery  ^ueene." — It 
was  not  to  Homer,  or  Virgil,  or  even  to  Tafi'o,  that  Spenfer 
looked  up  for  a  model  ;  but  to  Arioflo  :  and  it  was  confe- 
quently  his  intention  to  produce  a  poem  v/hich  fhould  con- 
fift  of  allegories,  enchantments,  and  romantic  expeditions,  con- 
ducted by  knights,  giants,  magicians,  and  fiflitious  beings.  If 
he  was  blameable  in  this  refpeCt,  the  fault  is  not  fo  much  to 
be  imputed  to  himfelf,  as  to  the  times  in  which  he  lived.  It 
was  natural  for  him  to  follow  the  mode  of  compoiition  which 
then  was  molt  admired,  and  to  adopt  thofe  laws  of  tafte, 
which   Italian  critics   had  approved  :  for  Italy,   not  France, 

was 


ESSAYS,    BY   ADELUNG.        Ixxvii 

was  in  Elizabeth's  reign  the  arbiter  of  elegance  ;  and  in  Italy 
Arioflo  was  greatly  preferred  to  Taflb.  Whether  this  opinion 
Was  juft  or  not,  we  are  not  here  called  upon  to  determine.  It 
is  fufficient  for  our  purpofe  to  obferve,  that  it  was  embraced 
by  Spenfer ;  and  that  upon  this  principle,  the  plan  of  his 
grand  poem,  the  Fairy  Queen,  was  framed.— In  power^  of 
invention  and  richnefs  of  fancy,  he  has  fcarcely  ever  been  ex- 
ceeded. To  the  difplay  of  thefe  talents,  the  fubjefts  he  was 
led  to,  by  the  faihionable  reading  of  the  times,  were  peculiarly 
accommodated.  There  could  not  be  more  admirable  inftru- 
ments  in  the  hands  of  a  genuine  poet,  than  the  adventures  and 
manners  of  chivalry,  and  the  fuperflitions  and  enchantments 
of  the  dark.  ages.  They  gave  fcope  for  all  the  wildnefs  and 
beauty  of  imagery,  and  for  all  the  fplendour  and  majefty  of 
defcription  ;  circumftances,  of  which  Spenfer  has  availed  him- 
felf  in  the  higheft  degree.  As,  therefore,  his  Fairy  Queen 
comes  recommended  to  us  by  fo  many  excellencies,  it  may  be 
thought  furprifing,  that  at  prefent  it  fhould,  comparatively^ 
have  only  a  fmall  number  of  readers.  But  this  may  be  ac- 
counted for  from  feveral  caufes.  The  cuftoms  and  manners 
defcribed  by  Spenfer  are  vanilhed  away,  and  confequently  are 
little  underftood  by  the  bulk  of  mankind.  His  allufions,  like- 
wife,  are  often  too  abilrufe  and  learned  f6r  common  apprehen- 
fion  ;  and  fome  degree  of  obfoletenefs  hangs  upon  his  language* 
Nor  is  allegorical  poetry  adapted  to  the  general  underflanding. 
Hence  it  is  that  Spenfer,  with  all  his  merit,  can  only  be  the 
lafting  favourite  of  the  few,  who,  by  reading  and  true  tafte, 
are  fully  qualified  to  appreciate,  and  to  feel,  his  tranfcendent 
beauties.  By  fuch  perfons,  he  will  be  admired  and  applaud- 
ed, fo  long  as  poetry  fhall  continue  to  be  the  obje£t  of  admira- 
tion and  applaufe. — Various  Other  poems  were  written  by 
him,  befides  the  Fairy  Queen,  amoftg  which  the  "  Shep- 
herd's Calendar,"  has  excited  the  greateft  attention.  By 
the  admirers  of  paftoral  poetry  it  has  always  been  held  in 
high  eftimation,  and  it  has  no  fmill  merit  of  its  kind.  It  has 
been  the  fubjeft  of  imitation  to  fucceeding  writers  ;  and  the 
fame  has  been  the  cafe  with  regard  to  his  "  Aftrophel,"  or 
Elegy  on  the  death  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney.  It  is  a  paftoral  ele- 
gy ;  and  we  know  that  paftoral  elegies  have  been  fabricated  in 
this  country,  by  a  long  train  of  verfifiers,  till  they  have  be- 
come inlignificant,  and  even  difgufting.  It  need  not  be  added, 
that  we  except  the  Lycidas  of  Milton.' 

k  'So 


bcxviii      THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

*  So  ftrongly  was  the  age  of  Elizabeth  devoted  to  poetry, 
that  poetical  publications  were  more  numerous  than  thofe  of 
any  other  fpecies  of  compofition  in  our  language.  One  eflfed  of 
this  tafte  in  the  nation  was,  that  there  were  two  collections  of 
*'  Flowers"  fele£led  from  the  works  of  the  moft  fafhionable 
poets.  The  firfl  was  entitled,  **  England's  Parnaffus  ;"  and 
the  other,  "  Belvidere,  or  the  Garden  of  the  Mufes."  The 
former  had  the  fuperiority,  both  in  point  of  method  and  fe- 
leflion.  Thus  a  cuftom  was  begun,  which  in  our  own  time,  has 
been  carried  to  a  blameable  excels.  If  fuch  compilations  are 
not  wholly  deftitute  of  utility,  they  have  the  difadvantage  of 
contributing  to  the  number  of  fuperficial  readers,  and  of  pre- 
venting manj^  authors  from  being  entirely  read,  the  whole  of 
v/hofe  produdlions  might  jullly  claira  a  diligent  peru^fal.* 

*  It  will  not  be  expedled,  that  we  Ihould  endeavour  to  recite 
the  names  of  all  the  writers  of  general  poetry,  that  appeared 
during  the  reign  of  Elizabeth.  Several  of  them,  though  ap- 
plauded by  their  cotemporaries,  are  now  found  to  have  been 

entitled  to    no  more  than  a  fmall  degree  of  praife George 

Gascoigne,  in  addition  to  his  merit  as  atranflator  and  a  drama- 
ttft,  may  here  be  mentioned  as  having  been  efteemed  one  of  the 
bell  love- poets  of  his  time.  He  attained  alfo  fome  reputation 
as  a  fatirilt. — Gabriel  Harvey  deferves  to  be  remembered 
with  refpeCl,  on  account  of  a  copy  of  verfes  written  by  bim, 
llgned  Hobbinol,  and  which  is  prefixed  to  Spenfer's  Fairy  Queen. 
It  has  even  been  faid  that  tliis  poem,  if  he  had  compofed 
nothing  elie,  Vv'ould  have  rendered  him  immortal.  George 
TuBERViLLE's  compofitions,  bcfides  his  tranflations,  were  of 
various  kinds  j  fuch  as  epitaphs,  epigrams,  fongs,  and  fonnets  ; 
and  poems  defcribing  the  places  and  manners  of  the  country 
of  Ruflia,  where  he  reiided  for  a  time,  a^  fecretary  to  Sir  Tho- 
mas Randolph.  He  was  one  of  thofe  who  endeavoured  to  re- 
fine the  Engliih  ftyle. — Sir  John  Harrington  deferves  little 
notice  as  a  poet,  independently  of  his  tranflation  of  Ariofto. 
His  Epigrams,  however,  are  not  deftitute  of  wit — If,  amidft 
fo  many  claims  to  admiration  and  applaiife.  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh  is  to  be  fpoken  of  as  a  poet,  his  title  to  that  ap- 
pellation belongs  to  the  re'gn  of  Elizabeth  ;  for  his  poetical 
pieces  were  entirely  the  amufenients  of  bis  youth,  his  attention 
being  foon  dire£led  to  fuperior  purfaits.' 

*  There  is  fame  difficulty  in  afcertaining  the  exa61:  propor- 
tion of  fame  due  to  Sir  Philh*  Sidney,  as  a  poet.     He  was  a 

paffionate 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.        Ixxlx 

paflionate  admirer  of  the  art  of  poetrj,  and  his  produ£lions  in 
this  way  were  very  numerous.  It  is  univerfally  allowed,  that 
he  was  unfortunate  in  his  attempts  to  introduce  the  Roman 
meafures  of  verfe  into  our  language,  thofe  meafures  not  a- 
greeing  with  the  genius  of  the  Engliih  tongue.' 

*  Joseph  Hall,  who,  in  procefs  of  time  became  fucceflive- 
ly  Bifhop  of  Exeter  and  Norwich,  is  entitled  to  particular 
diftintlioa  as  a  fatiric  poet.  At  the  beginning  of  his  cele- 
brated "  Virgidemiarum  "  he  claims  the  honour  of  having  led 
die  way  in  this  fpecies  of  compofition ; 

■*'  I  Srfl  adventure,  follow  me  who  lift, 

""  And  be  the  fecond  EngHfli  fatyrift." 
This  affertion  of  our  poet  is  not  ftridtly  true  ;  for  there 
were  various  fatirical  writings  previouily  to  his  appearance. 
But  he  was  the  firll  who  dillinguiihed  himfelf  as  a  legitimate 
fatirifl,  ujDon  the  clallic  model  of  Juvenal  and  Perlius,  with  an 
intermixture  of  fome  flrokes  in  the  manner  of  Horace.  Suc- 
ceeding authors  have  availed  themfelves  of  the  pattern  (ct 
them  by  Hall.' 

*  Sir  Richard  Maitland  was  the  principal  Scotch  ver- 
nacular poet  of  tliis  period.  His  productions  were  various, 
and  are  read  with  pleafure  by  thofe  who  are  competent  maf- 
ters  of  the  local  and  obfolete  language  in  which  they  are 
written Alexander  Arbuthnot,  Alexander  Mont- 
gomery, and  John  Rolland,  may  be  paffed  over  without 
farther  notice  ;.nor  is  it  merit,  but  rani?:,  that  induces  us  to 
mention  James  VI.  of  Scotland.  He  publiHaed  in  1585,  "  The 
EfTayes  of  a  Prentife  in  the  divine  Arte  of  Poelie  ;"  and  hi 
1591,  "  His  Majefties  poetical  Exercifes  at  vacant  Houres." 
King  James  acted  the  critic  as  well  as  the  poet.  At  the  end 
of  the  firfl  of  thefe  performances  are,  **  Rewlis  and  Cautelis 
of  Scottis  Poefie,"  which,  fays  Mr  Pinkerton,  are  curious, 
though  itupjd.' 

*  We  clofe  the  fubjeft  of  the  poetry  of  this  period  with 
fome  view  of  it,  as  difplayed  in  the  dramatic  form.  The  firft 
regular  tragedy  which  England  produced  was  early  in  Eliza- 
beth's reign  ;  and  this  was  the  Gorboduc  of  Thomas  Sack- 
viLLE,  Lord  Buckhurll.  It  is  written  in  blank  verfe,  divided 
into  a£ls  and  fcenes,  and  cloathed  in  all  the  formalities  of  the 
legitimate  drama.  The  firft  exhibition  of  it  was  in  the  great 
hall  of  the  Inner  Temple,  by  the  ftudents  of  that  Society,  as 
part  of  the  entertainment  of  a   grand  Chriftmas  ;  and  in  Ja- 

jc  2  nuary 


Ixxx        THREE    PHILOLOGICAL      * 

nuary,  1 561-2,  it  was  again  reprefented  before  the  Qdeen  at 
Whitehall.  It  was  not  intended  for  the  prefs,  but  having 
been  furreptitioufly  and  carelef  ly  printed,  a  correct  edition 
was  given  in  1571.  Though  this  tragedy  never  was  a  fa- 
vourite, even  among  our  anceftors,  and  has  long  fallen  into  ge- 
neral oblivion,  the  language  of  it  has  great  purity  and  per- 
fpicuity,  and  it  is  entirely  free  from  that  tumid  phrafeology 
which  afterwards  took  place  aniong  our  dramatic  poets.  Eve- 
ry fcene  of  the  Gorboduc  is  marked  with  Sackville's  charac- 
teriftical  manner,  which  confifts  in  a  perfpicuity  of  ftyle,  and 
a  command  of  numbers,  fuperior  to  the  tone  of  his  times.' 

*  Christopher  Marloe,  whom  we  have  mentioned  as 
a  tranflator,  appeared  with  greater  luftre  as  a  dramatic 
poet.  Six  tragedies  were  written  by  him,  and  he  began  a  fe- 
venth,  which  was  completed  by  another  hand.  It  is  remark- 
able, and  indicates  the  credulous  ignorance  of  the  age,  that  the 
fubjeft  of  one  of  his  pieces  fhould  be  the  Tragical  Hiftory  of 
the  Life  and  Death  of  Dr.  John  Fauftus.  Marlce's  chief  fault 
in  defcription  is  an  indulgence  of  the  florid  ftjle,  and  an  ac- 
cumulation of  conceits,  refulting,  however,  from  a  warm  and 
brilliant  fancy.  It  has  even  been  faid  of  him,  that  he  bore 
fome  refemblance  to  the  incomparable  Shakefpeare.  The  tra- 
gedy of  Dido,  left  incomplete  by  Marloe,  was  finiihed  by 
by  Fhomas  Nashe,  who  was  likewife  the  author  of  a  comedy. 
— Gf.orge  Whetstone  was  a  writer  upon  various  fubjefts 
in  profe  ;  but  his  poetical  compofitions  were  of  too  quaint 
and  pedantic  a  nature,  to  deferve  the  attention  of  pofterity. 
His  comedy,  *'  Promos  and  Cafl'andra,"  no  otherwife  deferves 
to  be  noticed,  than  as  it  is  faid,  that  Shakefpeare  founded  upon 
it  his  "  Meafure  for  Meafure."  Befides  other  works,  Whet- 
ilone  drew  up  a  life  of  George  Gascoigne,  who  claims  a 
place  among  our  dramatic  poet?,  not  only  as  the  tranflator  of 
the  "  Jocalla"  of  Euripides,  and  the  '*  Suppofes"  of  Ariofto, 
but  as  the  author  of  a  tragi-comedy,  called  the  Glafs  of  Go- 
vernment," and  a  Mafque,  entitled,  "  The  Princely  Pleafures 
of  Kcnnelworth  Caftle."  This  Mafque  is  compofed  partly 
in  profe,  and  partly  m  rhyme  ;  and  is  a  relation  of  the  enter- 
tainment given  to  Queen  Elizabeth  at  Kennelworth,  by  Robert 

Dudley,  Earl  of  Leicefl;er,  in   the  month    of  July,    1575 

JoAn  Lilly  wrote  a  number  of  comedies,  which  were  a£ted 
before  the  Queen,  and  feem  to  have  been  much  applauded  in 
their  day.     He  has  been  highly  extolled  as  a  reformer  and 

purifier 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.  Ixxxi 

purifier  of  the  Englilli  language  ;  but  the  aiFefted  turn  of  his 
compolitions,  and  efpeciaily  of  his  "  Euphues,"  a  romance, 
does  not  give  credit  to  fuch  an  encomium. — Another  comic 
writer  of  this  reign  was  Robert  Green.  He  was  a  man  of 
great  humour  and  drollery,  and  by  no  means  deficient  in  point 
of  wit ;  which  talents,  however,  were  proftituted  by  him  to 
the  bafe  purpofes   of  vice  and  obfcenity.     It  is  faid  of  him, 

that  he  was  the  fir Ji  author  %vho  wrote  for    bread George 

Peele  exercifed  his  abilities  for  the  Itage  in  a  different  form. 
His  "  Arraignment  of  Paris"  was  a  dramatic  Paftci'al  ;  his 
"  Edward  the  Firfl"  an  hiftorical  play  ;  and  his  "  King 
David  and  Fair  Bethfabe,"  a  tragedy.  .  He  wrote,  like- 
wife,  another  tragedy,  called  "  The  Turkiih  Mahomet, 
and  Hyren  the  fair  Greek,"  which  has  not  been  pi-iuted. 
The  llory,  no  doubt,  is  the  fame  as  that,  upon  which  Dr. 
Johnfon's  *'  Irene"  is  founded.  Other  poems  were  written  by 
Peele,  and  it  has  been  admitted,  that  he  was  a  good  paftoral  poet.* 

*  But  all  the  dramatic  authors,  we  have  mentioned,  and  the 
luftic  they  flied  Q{i\  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  are  ofJittle 
iignificance,when  compared  with  the  glory,  which  was  refiefted 
upon  it  by  its  having  produced  Shaki  speare,  that  mailer  of 
human  nature  and  hunaan  life  ;  that  prodigy  of  invention  and 
imagination  ;  that  commander  of  the  fublime,  the  pathetic,  and 
the  comic  ;  that  painter  of  external  pailions  and  external  man- 
ners 9  that  miracle  of  df  fcription,  moral  wifdom,  and  deep  pe- 
netration ;  and  that  treafure  of  pure  poetry.  It  was  in  the 
latter  end  of  this  period,  that  he  wrote  forne  of  his  tinefl  pieces, 
and  difplayed  the'wonderful  fources  and  energies  of  his  mind. 
We  pretend  not  to  give  a  minute  character  of  Shakefpeare. 
This  it  would  be  impoffible  to  do  with  juflice;  in  many  pages. 
Befides,  he  chiefly  flouriihed  in  the  next  reiga  of  James  1,  fur- 
rounded  with  his  great  competitors,  but  far  furpaffing  them 
all." 

'Among  the  mifcellaneous  writers  of  the  age,  Sir  Philip. 
Sidney  deferves  the  firft  place.  His  "  Arcadia"  was  long  high- 
ly celebrated  and  greatly  admired.  What  Sir  Philip  has  ob- 
ferved  concerning  "  Amadis  de  Gaule,"  may  in  fome  degree 
be  applied  to  his  own  performance.  *'  Truly,"  fays  he,  "  I 
"  have  known  men^  that  even  with  reading  Amadis  de  Gaule, 
f*  which  God  knows,  wanteth  much  of  a  perfect  poelie,  have 
f*  found  their  hearts  moved  to  the  exercife  of  curtefie,  libe- 
f'  ralitie,  and  efpeciaily  coarage." — But  there  is  another  pro- 
duction, 


Ixxxii        THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

du6lion,  on  account  of  which  Sir  Philip  deferves  to  be  record- 
ed with  honour  as  a  mifcellaneous  writer.  This  is  his  '*  De- 
fence of  Poefie,"  which  will  probably  long  continue  to  be  read 
with  pleafure,  by  perfons  of  true  tafte  and  difcernment.  It  is 
an  ample  and  mallerly  vindication  of  the  art,  and  there  are 
many  pafi'ages  in  it,  which  difplay  great  power  of  compofition.* 

*  Henry  Cuff  has  here  fome  claim  to  remembrance,  in 
confequence  of  his  "  Treatife  on  the  Diiferences  of  the  Ages 
of  Man's  Life."  It  is  a  curious  and  philofophical  performance  j 
but  the  value  of  it  is  diminilhed  by  its  partaking  too  much  of 
that  uncouthnefs  of  language,  which  was  generally  prevalent. 
Cuff  was  the  unfortunate  fecretary  to  the  Earl  of  ElTex,  and 
had  in  his  mafler  a  fupcrior  model  of  Englifti  llyle  ;  for  the 
former  had  habituated  himfelf  to  write  like  a  fcholar,  while 
the  latter  managed  his  pen  with  the  freedom  of  a  man  of  the 
world. — To  the  names  already  given,  may  be  added  that  of 
Sir  Geoffrey  Fenton,  fecretary  of  Itate  in  the  kingdom  of 
Ireland.  He  chiefly  figured  in  the  capacity  of  a  tranflator, 
and  his  principal  works  were  "  Golden  Epiilles,"  gathered 
from  Latin,  French,  and  Italian  authors  ;  and  a  tranflation  of 
"  The  Hiftory  of  the  Wars  of  Italy,  by  Francis  Guicciardini, 
in  twenty  Books." — Sir  Geoffrey  wrote  with  eafe,  and  his 
Jlyle  reflefts  credit  on  his  judgment  and  tafte.' 

*  The  mifcellaneous  authors  of  eminent  ftation  were  the 
following :  Lord  Buckhurst  ;  Edward  Vere,  feventeenth 
Earl  of  Oxford;  William  Poulett,  Marquis  of  Winchef- 
ter  ;  Robert  Dudley,  Earl  of  Leicefter  ;  William  Cecil, 
Lord  Burleigh  ;  Henry  Howard,  Earl  of  Northampton  ; 
Lord  Chancellor  Hatton  ;  and  Henry  Gary,  firft  Lord  Falk- 
land.   Among  the  female  authors  of  this  period,   the   il- 

luftrious  Queen  Elizabeth  maintains  the  firft  rank  ;  for  fhe 
was  the  moil  learned  woman  of  the  age.  Befides  her  tranfla- 
tions  into  Greek  and  Latin,  which  are  foreign  to  this  hiftori- 
cal  view,  Ihe  tranfiated  Plutarch  de  Curiofitate,  Boethius's 
Confolation  of  Philofophy,  Salluft's  Jugurthine  War,  and  part 
of  Horace's  Art  of  Poetry,  into  her  native  language. — By  her 
cotemporaries  Pllizabeth  has  been  highly  extolled  for  her 
poetry  ;  but  this  mufl  be  attributed  to  the  flattery  of  the  age. 
I'he  beautiful,  the  unfortunate,  and  the  imprudent  Mary 
Qxjeen  of  Scots  makes  but  a  feeble  comparifon  with  her 
rival  Elizabeth  ;  for  llie  was  far  inferior  to  her  in  profound  eru- 
dition, and  ratjjer  excelled  in  thofe  lighter  parts  of  literature, 

tl^at 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.       Ixxxlit 

that  were  fafhionable  at  the  Court,  where  fhe  had  been  edu- 
cated.    Befides  the    poems  written  by  her  in  Latin,  French, 
and  Scotch,  fhe  compofed  alfo  a  •*  Confolation  of  her  long  Im- 
prifonment,    and  royal  Advice  to  her  Son."     Many  of  her 
Letters  occur    in  public  libraries,  and  a^e   frequently  finding 
their  way  to  the  prefs,  in  confequence  of  the  minute  attention 
to  hillorical  information,  which  is  now  fo  generally  prevalent. 
Mary  Sidney,  Countefs  of  Pembroke,  and  fifter  to  Sir  Philip 
Sidney,  was  a  very  accompliihed  lady,  and  received  ample  tef- 
timonies  of  her  merit.     The  two  works,  which  fhe  publifhed, 
were  only  tranflations  ;  one  being  **  A  Difcourfe  of  L  fe  and 
Death  ;"  and  the  other,    "  The  Tragedie  of  Antonie." — But 
among  the  women  of  this  period,  who  were  devoted  to  the 
fludy  of   literature,  the   principal  place  is  due  to  the  four 
daughters  of  Sir  Anthony  Cooke.     They  were  well  acquaint- 
ed with  the  ancient  and  modern  languages,  and  tranflated   fe- 
veral  works  into  their  own. — Mildred,  the  eldeft  of  the  four 
lifters,  was,  for  more  than  forty-two  years,  the  wife  of  the  il- 
luftrious  ftatefman  William  Cecil,  Lord  Burleigh.     She  tranf- 
lated a  piece  of  St   Chryfoftom's,  from  the  original,  into  the 
Englifii  language — Anne,  the  fecond  daughter  of  Sir  Anthonjr 
Cooke,  became    the  wife  of  the  Lord-keeper,  Sir  Nicholas 
Bacon,  and  was  the  mother  of  the  illuftrious  Francis  Bacon. 
She  tranflated  from  the  Italian  into  Englifli,  twenty-five  Ser- 
mons written  by  Barnardine  Ochine,  a  celebrated  divine  of  that 
age,   concerning  the  predeftination  and  ele£lion  of  God.     Not 
long  after  her  marriage.  Lady  Bacon  gratified  the  curiofity  of 
the  public,   and  contributed  much  to  the  inftruction  of  her 
countrymen,  in  religious  matters,  by  tranflating  from  the  La- 
tin into  Englifh,  an  **  Apology  for  the  Church  of  England  ;" 
originally  written  by  the  learned  and  eloquent  Bifhop  Jewel. — 
Elizabeth,  the  third  daughter  of  Sir  Anthony,  was  firft  mar- 
ried to  Sir  Thomas  Hobby,  and  fecondly  to  John,  Lord  Kuf- 
fell,  fou  and  heir   to  Francis   Ruflell,  Earl  of  Bedford.     She 
wrote  epitaphs  for  her  fon,  daughter,  brother,  fifter,  both  huf- 
bands,  and  a  venerable    old  friend,  in  the  Greek,  Latin,  and 
Englifti  tongues.     Befides   thefe.  Lady  Ruflel  tranflated,  from 
the  French  into  Englifli,  a  tra(!it,    entitled  "  A  way  of  Recon- 
ciliation of  a  good  and  learned  Man,  touching  the  true  nature 
and  Subftance  of  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Chrift." — Katherine, 
the  fourth  daughter  in  this  learned   family,  though  likewi-fe 
famous   for  her  knowledge  in  the  Hebrew,  Greek,  and  Latin 

language, 


Ixxxiv       THREE    PlilLOLOGICAL 

languages,  and  for  her  (kill  In  poetry,  does  not  appear  to  have 
been  the  author  of  any  diftinft  treatife.' 

*  It  muft,  however,  be  remembered,  that  the  literature  of 
the  women  of  that  period  extended  comparatively  but  to  a  few 
perfons,  and  thofe  only  of  confiderable  rank  ;  the  generality 
of  the  female  fex  beifjg  in  a  ftate  of  .ignorance.  I'here  was 
by  no  means  that  difFufion  of  knowledge,  that  cultivation  of 
mind,  that  tafte  for  books,  with  which  we  now  meet,  in  al- 
moft  every  company  of  ladies.  Neither  do  we  find,  that  the 
learned  women  of  the  fixteenth  century  produced  fuch  works 
as  have  continued  td  be  read  much  by  pofterity.  The  moft 
important  produftion  of  any  of  Sir  Anthony  Cooke's 
daughters,  was  Lady  Bacon's  tranflation  of  Biftiop  Jewel's 
Apology  ;  and  yet,  who  but  an  antiquary  will  now  feek  for 
it,  or  give  himfelf  the  trouble  of  perufing  it  ?  Not  a  fingle 
poetefs,  deferving  to  be  mentioned,  arofe  in  this  country  till 
the  feventeenth  century.  The  Dutchess  of  •  Newcastle* 
Mrs  Katherine  Philips,  and  Mrs.  Behn,  appear  to  have 
been  the  firft  who  could,  in  any  degree,  merit  that  appella- 
tion. Independently  of  poetry,  the  learned  women  of  Eliza- 
beth's reign  have  been  far  exceeded  by  the  ingenious  ladies  of 
the  prefent  age,  both  in  the  general  and  extenfive  utility  of 
their  writings,  and  in  the  elegancies  of  compofition.  There  is 
a  remark  to  be  made  concerning  the  difference  between  the 
literature  of  the  ladles  of  the  fixteenth  century,  and  that  of  the 
females  of  more  recent  times.  The  former  entered  deeply 
into  the  fludy  of  the  ancient  languages  ;  whilft  the  latter,  be- 
fides  acquiring  a  Ikill  in  the  modern  tongues,  efpecially  the 
French  and  the  Italian,  have  paid  their  principal  attention  to 
the  cultivation  of  general  knowledge  ;  though  a  few  of  them 
have  been  no  fmall  proficients  in  the  learning  of  antiquity.' 

*  Among  the  numerous  Divines  of  this  period,  who  have  a 
claim  to  peculiar  and  extraordinary  diftindlion,  both  as  men 
of  letters  and  as  improvers  of  tlieir  native  language,  we  have 
already  mentioned  Richard  Hooker,  to  whom  we  ftiall  join 
the  name  of  Thomas  Bilson,  fucceflively  Bifhop  of  Worcef- 
ter  and  Wincheftcr.  This  prelate  was  one  of  the  final  cor- 
rectors of  the  Englilb  tranllation  of  the  Bible,  in  the  reign  of 
J/\Mr  s  I.  For  this  ofiice  he  appears  to  have  been  particularly 
qualified,  as  his  fly.'e  is,  in  general,  more  eafy  and  harmonious 
than  was  common  among  the  ecclefiaftics  of  his  time.' 

*  Amidft  die  endlefs  theological  produdions  of  the  age,  ori- 

giftal 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.        Ixxxv 

ginal  works  in  Ethics  were  almoft  totallj  unknown  among 
us,  till  at  length  the  pablic  received  ample  gratification  from 
Francis  Bacon's  Effays,  concerning  which  we  need  not  fay, 
that  they  opened  a  rich  treafury  of  moral  obfervation,  and 
that  they  were  worthy  of  the  great  and  comprehenlive  mind, 
from  which  they  proceeded.  The  name  of  Effays  was  then 
new  to  the  world,  and  perhaps  had  been  derived  from  Mon- 
taigne. Thus  Bacon  introduced  into  England  a  fpecies  of 
writing,  which  has  fince  been  largely  cultivated,  which  has 
produced  a  vail  number  of  beautiful  compofitions,  and  which 
conftitutes  an  elegant  part  of  modern  literature.' 

The  fpecimens  of  compofition  quoted  by  Dr.  Johnfon,  in 
his  Hiftory  of  the  Englifli  language,  extend  only  to  the  period, 
in  which  X)r  Wilfon  wrote  j  a  man  whofe  merits  in  refining 
hfs  native  tongue  we  have  ftated  in  page  Ixxiii  &feq.  It  would, 
however,  have  been  very  ufeful,  if  Dr.  Johnfon  had  produced 
further  fpecimens,  *  taken  from  the  writers  of  the  fixteenth 
and  feventeenth  centuries,  fo  that  the  fubfequent  tranfition, 
from  the  Saxon-Normannic  to  the  modern  Englifti  language, 
might  have  been  exhibited  in  an  uninterrupted  view.  During 
a  period  of  two  centuries  and  a  half,  a  living  language  muft 
undergo  great  changes.  This  is  particularly  obvious  in  the 
German,  when  we  compare  the  language  of  the  modern  Ger- 
mans with  that  of  Luther  and  his  cotemporaries.  I  propofe, 
therefore,  to  conclude  this  Effay  with  a  few  general  remarks. 

1.  The  cultivation  of  a  language  altogether  depends  upon 
the  progrefs,  which  a  nation  makes  in  tafte,  and  in  philofophi- 
cal  acquirements.  The  latter  enrich  a  language,  while  the  for- 
mer contribute  to  give  it  an  agreeable  form,  and  to  regulate 
its  inflexion  and  harmony.  Hence  the  hiftory  of  a  language 
cannot  be  properly  exhibited,  without  giving  a  clofely  con- 
nected view  of  the  refpedtive  improvements  of  the  people,  that 
make  ufe  of  this  language. 

2.  As    in  languages  we  find  no  arbitrary  but   conventional 

1  arrange- 


*  If  it  were  confiftent  with  the  limits  allotted  to  this  publication, 
■many  other  fpecimens  from  later  writers  might  have  been  inferted. 
But  as  the  works  of  the  beft  authors,  during  the  feventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centaries,  are  pretty  generally  known,  this  omiflioa 
cannot  be  confidered  as  material. 

W. 


Ixxxvi        THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

arrangements  in  every  part  of  them;  hence  the  changes, 
which  a  language  from  time  to  time  undergoes,  mull  be  de- 
duced and  explained  from  the  particular  circumftanceg,  in 
which  a  nation  is  placed.  In  order  to  fix  our  attention  here 
eixclufivelj  upon  the  Englifh  language,  we  may  obferve, 
that  though  the  conquefl  of  England  by  the  Normans,  points 
out  the  caufe  of  the  fubfequent  mixture  of  the  Saxon-Danifli 
dialeft  with  the  Normannic  ;  yet  as  many  nations  have  been 
conquered  by  invaders,  whofe  languages  were  not  introduced 
into  the  vanquifhed  countries,  this  mixture  cannot  be  fatis- 
fadlorily  explained,  unlefs  we  have  recourfe  to  a  variety  of 
concurrent  circumftances.  Among  thefe,  the  relative  fitua- 
tion,  in  which  the  conquerors  were  placed  towards  the  conquer- 
ed, deferves  particular  attention.  As  long  as  the  conquerors 
ruled  the  natives  with  defpotic  rigour,  their  language  pre- 
vailed, both  at  court  and  in  common  life  ;  they  compelled  the 
fubjugated  Britons  to  make  ufe  of  the  Normannic  language, 
as  well  in  their  mutual  intercourfe  as  in  all  public  tranfactions. 
Thus  this  language  fpread  rapidly,  even  among  the  lower  or- 
ders of  the  people.  B]ut  as  the  dominion  of  the  proud  Norman 
Barons -did  not  continue  loi-^g  enough,  to  fupprefs  completely  the 
language  of  the  country  ;  and  as  the  lower  clafies,  under  Henry 
II,  again  acquired  their  former  importance,  the  old  popular 
language  likewife  refumed  its  former  authority.  Befides  this 
circumftance,  the  nation  at  the  fame  time  advanced  in  know- 
ledge, tafle,  and  improvements  of  every  l^ind,  fo  that  the  de- 
ficiencies and  imperfediions  of  the  ancient  language  were  foon 
difcovered.  On  this  account,  the  more  refined  Normjinnic 
tongue,  with  which  the  people  were  already  acquainted,  was 
mingled  v/ith  the  dialedl  of  the  natives  :  and  as  England 
iienceforth  continued  to  improve  in  knowledge  and  tafte,  by 
its  intercourfe  with  France,  it  happened,  that  the  French  lan- 
guage difplayed  its  influence  more  and  more  upon  that  of  the 
Englifli  ;  particularly  as  its  kindred  dialcfl,  the  Normannic, 
had  already  paved  the  way  for  this  mixture.  Hence,  too,  we 
can  explain  the  fmgular  phenomenon,  that  of  two  names  given 
to  the  fame  objeft,  the.  one  of  which  is  of  Saxon-Danifii,  and 
the  other  of  Normannic  or  French  extraftioii,  tjie  latter  fhould 
be  more  dignified  than  the  former,  or,  at  lealt,  ufed  more  fre- 
quently among  the  higher  claiTes  of  fociety.  The  words  ox^ 
y'"'fi  "^ethcr^  are   derived  from   the  DanifliSaxon ;  but  heef^ 

vealf 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.       Ixxxvli 

'veal,  and  mutton  *  from  the  Normannlc-French. "  Manj  other 
inilances  of  a  fimilar  nature  occur  in  modern  Englifh. 

3.  Befides  the   peculiarities  found  in  every  individual   na- 
tion, there  are,  in  many  languages  of  nations  intimately  con- 
nected, always  fome  particulars,  in  which  they  all  agree  :  and 
as  this  is  obfefvable  during  one  and  the   fame  period  of  time, 
it  mufl  be  explained  from  the  prevailing  fpirit  of  the  age. ,    lit 
order  to  give  an  example  of  this  kind,  we  fhall  mention  the 
appearance  of  the    foftening  letter  e,  which,  fince  the  fifteenth 
century,  has  been  prevalent  in  feveral  languages  of  Europe. 
The  adoption  of  this  letter  appears  to  have  arifen  in  confe- 
quence  of  the  progreffive  refinement  of  tafte,   fo  that  fpeaker;^ 
and  writers  of  modern  languages  felt  the  neceffity  of  foftening 
the  harfhnefs  of  the  vernacular  tongues,  which  were  overload- 
ed with  confonants.     For  this  purpofe,  the    infertion  or  the 
addition  of  the  vowel  e  has  been  the  moft  ufual  and  the  moft 
general  expedient ;  by    which,    among  other   languages,  the 
French   in  particular  has  been  much  refined.     The  fame  has 
been  adopted  in  the    German,  as  the  words,  Buhe,  Knabe,  a 
boy  ;  Kdfe,  cheefe  ;  etige,  narrow  ;  blode,  weak,  timid  ;  Getreide^ 
corn,  and   many  others,  were  fince  that   period  written  and 
fpoken  with  an  additional  e,  inftead  of  the  harder  words.  Baby 
Knaby  Kasy  eng^   blod,   Gstreid. — A  fimilar  method  has    been 
praclifed  in  the  Englifh  language,  as  is  obvious  from  the  fpe- 
cimens  given  in  the   earlier  periods  of  its'  Hiftory.     But  the 
limits  of  propriety,  in  this  refpeft,  were  foon  tranfgreffed  in 
all  the  modern  languages,  and  this  e  was  frequently  annexed, 
without  neceffity,  to  many  words,  in  which  it  ferved  only  to 
obfcure  their  ftrufture  and  inflexion,  or  at  leaft  to  reader  them 
aukward  and  heavy.     Sudh  are,  in   German,   the  words,  die 
Gefchwijiere,  the  brotliers  and  fillers  ;  die  Biirgermeijlere,  the 
BurgQ-mafters  ;  oft'Oy  frequently  ;  reiney  purely  ;  die  Ableitunge, 
the  derivation  ;  and  in  Englilh,  the  words,    ordering^   both  e, 
accoirdynge,  fuch^-,  anyf,  and  many  others.  Hence  all  the  lan- 
guages, as  the  people  advanced  in  found  tafte  and  knowledge, 
have,  in  latter  times,  reftrained  this  addition  .within  certain  and 
proper  limits.  , 

*  The  words  here  employed  in  illuftatrion  of  the  remark,  do  not 
appear  to, have  been  diltiniSly  underltood  by  Mr.  Adelung  ;  for 
theyare  not  ftri£tly  fynotiymous,  and  though  they  both  refer  to 
the  objefts  expreffed  by  them,  yet  always  in  different  ftates  of 
their  exirtence,         VV. 

\  X  ESSAY 


ESSAY    SECOND. 


A  Ph'tlofophical  view  of  the  English  Language 


Why  called  Philofophical  ? 

J.T  has  now  become  ufual  in  language,  to  call  that  method  of 
treating  a  fubjeft  philofophical,  where  we  not  only  defcribe  the 
phenomena  as  they  exift,  btit  inquire  alfo,  how  they  came  to 
be  what  they  are,  and  why  they  are  fo.  And  it  is  merely  in 
this  fenfe  I  make  ufe  of  this  expreffion  here  ;  for  the  term 
philofophical  ftriftly  impliesr  nothing  more  than  rational.  It 
would  lead  me  too  far,  were  I  to  ihow  the  fuperiority  of  this 
rational  method  in  languages,  over  the  mechanical  mode  of 
teaching,  hitherto  pra^ifed*  It  has  already  been  introduced, 
With  fuccefs,  in  all  the  other  fciences  ;  language  alone  is 
behind  in  this  refpeft  :  for  which  reafon  grammar  muft  ftill 
be  contented  with  the  contemptible  appellation  of  a  mere  art, 
however  fufceptible  it  may  be  of  a  fcientific  method.  All  I 
intend  here  is  merely  an  eJJ'peri mental  inquiry,  in  which  I 
propofe  to  fele£t  a  few  ofi  the  mor6  renjarkable  phenomena 
occurring  in  the  Engliih  language  ;  fo  that  the  reader  mufl 
by  no  means  expeft  to  find  a  grammar,  in  the  common  accep- 
^tation  of  that  term. 

Of  the  Enf^lifh  Language. 

"What  has  been  the  origin  of  the  Englifli  language,  and 
by  what  means,  by  what  intrinfic  and  extrinfic  changes  it 
has  been  gradually  improving,  for  upwards  of  a  thoufanfl 
years  pafl,  has  been  Ihewn  in  the  preceding  Eilay. — It  is  fpo- 
ken  in  the  greateft  part  cf  England,  and  in  the  Low-lands 
of  Scotland,  while,  on  the  contrary,  in  the  mountainous  parts 
of  Scotland,  in  Ireland,  and  in  the  Engliih  provinces  of  Wales 
and  Cornwall,  anothei  language  prevails,  which  is  the  offspring 
of  the  oldell  language  of  the  country,  the  Britiih,  and  bears  an 
afliiiity  lo  that  fpoken  in  the  French'  province  of  Britanny. 

Of 


__. 


ESSAYS,   BY    ADELUNG      Ix/cxlx 

Of  the  Englijh  Written  Language, 

The  Englilh,  like  every  other  living  language,  is  afgain  di- 
vided into  various  dialefts,  which  differ,  partly  according  to 
the  diftricls  of  the  country  where  they  are  fpoken,  partly  ac- 
cording to  the  degrees  of  ctiltivation  acquired  by  thofe  who 
fpeak  them.  The  moil  improved  of  theie  dialedls,  as  ia 
every  other  language,  is  likewife  the  written  language  of  the 
nation,  and  in  the  ftridleft  fenfe  termed  the  Engliili  lano-ua'^e. 
The  moft  accompliftied  part  of  the  nation  is  here, 'as  in  many 
other  ftates,  the  court,  and  the  higher  clafles  of  the  innabitants 
of  the  Capital  :  for  wealth  and  tafte  are  generally  the  attend- 
ants of  the  court,  and  their  natural  influence  on  language  is 
here  accordingly  moll  remarkable.  Hence  jt  is  this  refined 
<!iale£l,  which  all  writers  of  tafte  employ,  and  which,  out  of 
the  Capital,  can  be  learned  only  from  books.  • 

Divifion  of  Grammar. 

Grammar  is  divided  into  two  principal  parts,  of  which  the 
firft  and  moft  important  relates  to  the  art  of  fpeaking  with 
propriety,  the  fecond  to  the  art  of  writing  corre6lly,  or  ortho- 
graphy. As  one  muft  firft  fpcak  properly,  before  he  can 
write  with  acciiracy,  (Orthography  ought,  injuHice,  to  hold 
the  laft  place  in  every  grammar.  Yet  as  no  progrefs  can  be 
made  in  fpeaking,  without  acquiring  the  elementary  part  of 
the  mode  of  writing,  it  is  cuftomary  to  begin  with  the  ortho- 
graphy ;  particularly  in  fuch  languages  as  are  fpoken  dif- 
ferently from  what  they  are  written. 

Of  the  Englifh  Written  CharuBers. 

There  is  every  reafon  to  believe,  that  the  ancient  Britons 
were  as  little  acquainted  with  the  art  of  writing,  as  any  of 
the  rude  and  femi-barbarous  nations  of  thofe  times.  The 
Romans,  indeecf,  as  foon  as  they  cftablifhed  themfelves  in 
-Britain,  likewife  introduced  their  written  characters  ;  but  it 
does  not  appear,  that  they  were  adopted  by  the  natives  :  and 
though  this  had  been  the  cafe,  they  v/ould  have  been  loft  by 
the  fucceeding  invalions  of  the  Saxons,  who,  at  their  firft  ap- 
pearance in  this  country,  were  a  more  rude  and  favage  people 
than  the  ancient  Britons As  foon  as  the  Saxons  were  con- 
verted to  Chriftianky,   they  received  the   Roman  characters 

r  -      ijom 


xc  THREE   PHILOLOGICAL 

from  their  Ifalian  and  Gallic  teachers  of  religion  ;  and  thefe 
charadlers  had  been  already  transforpied,  and  adapted  to  tlic 
running  hand,  then  in  ufe. 

Of  the  Anglo-Saxon  Alphabets 

As  the  Saxons  had  certain  founds  in  their  unpolifiied  and 
harfli  language^  with  which  the  Romans,  as  well  as  the  culti- 
vated Gauls  were  unacquainted,  and  which  therefore  could. 
not  be  expreffed  by  the  com-mon  written  characters  of  the  lat- 
ter, many  of  thefe  were  changed,  and  fome  new  ones  adopted  ; 
fuch  as  that  which  reprefents  the  hilling  thy  and  which  was 
borrowed  from  the  Greek.  0,  theta.  This  alphabet,  termed 
the  Anglo-Saxon,  maintained  its  ground  till  the  invafion  oit 
the  Normans,  and  for  a  confiderable  time  after  that  event. 

Of  its  difufe. 

However  much  the  ancient  Roman  charafters  might  have 
been  disfigured  by  the  corrupted  tafte  of  the  middle  ages,  they 
flill  retained  a  certain  affinity  to  their  original  form  :  but  this 
affinity  was  dellroyed  by  the  peculiar  Anglo-Saxon  letters. 
— In  the  Saxon  and  Saxo-DaniHi  periods,  the  national 
tafle,  notwithftanding  the  progrefs  it  had  made,  was  ftill 
much  too  rude,  to  exhibit  this  corruption,  in  a  fenfible 
manner.  But  when  the  Normans  fubjecled  England  to 
their  power,  and  began  to  fpread  the  higher  degrees  of  im- 
provement, that  prevailed  in  France ;  when  the  Saxo-Da- 
fu'fli  languTige  itfelf  was  refined  by  the  Norreannic  and  later 
French  ;  this  aukward  flate  ot  things  became  evident,  the  old 
Anglo-Saxon  charafters  were  again  abandoned,  and  the  Roman 
alphabet  in  its  pure  form,  fuch 'as  prevailed  at  that  time  in 
France,  was  confequently  adopted,  in  preference  to  the  former. 
This  change,  however^  was  now  attended  with  the  inconve* 
nience,  that  the  fimple  biffing  middle-found,  which  had  for- 
merly been  exprefled  by  the  letter  0,  borrowed  from  the 
Greek,  behoved  now  to  be  denoted  by  the  compound  ///, 
^vhich  could  exprefs  it  only  in  a  very  imperfecl:  manner.  But 
if  the  improvements  in  a  language  be  carried  on  with  tafte, 
of  two  inconveniences,  that  one  is  always  preferred,  which  is 
t]\e  leaft  repugnant  to  the  fenfe  of  beauty  and  propriety.  The 
old  Anglo-Saxon  figure  difagreed  altogetlier  with  the  fym- 

metry 


ESSAYS,    BY    AD  E  LUNG.  xci 

pietry  of  the  Roman  letters  ;  an^  therefore  proved  more  offen- 
five  to  found  tafle,  than  the  th^  although  it  be  a  compound 
lign  for  a  fimple  found,  becaufe  it  was  ftill  agreeable  to  the 
Roman  faihion,  at  leafl  with  refpeft  to  its  lliape. 

Of  angular  Written  CharaBers. 

To  trace  all  the  changes,  which  thefe  charaiSers  have,  from, 
time  to  time,  undergone  in  their  figure,  would  be  tedio-as,  and 
is  not  properly  an  objeft  of  this  inquiry.  I  ll:iall  remark  only- 
one  circumflance.  In  the  latter  centuries  of  the  middle  age, 
when  tafte  and  induftry  began  to  revive,  there  arofe  a  mode  of  - 
writing,  which  is  properly  denominated  the  ''  Broken  writ,'*  ' 
but  which,  in  common  life,  is  generally  called  the  <'  Monkiih. 
writing,"  becaufe  the  monks,  in  particular,  ufcd  it  in  their 
manufcripts.  It  is  alfo  frequently  termed  the  *'  Gothic  cha- 
rafter,"  not  as  if  it  had  been  invented  and  ufed  by  the  Goths^ 
but  in  fo  far  onlj^,  as  we  are  accuflomed  to  call  all  that  tafte 
Gothic,  which  delights  in  angular,  pointed,  and  curled  orna- 
ments. As  this  handwriting  was  certainly  more  beautiful 
than  the  long  and  "  waving"  current  hand,  formerly  in  ufe, 
it  afterv/ards  became  general  over  all  Europe,  and  maintained 
its  place  till  the  revival  of  the  fciencesVnd  of  good  tafte, 
when  people  returned  to  the  beautiful  Roman  letters,  as  they 
were  formed,  before  the  barbarous  nations  imprinted  on  them 
the  marks  of  their  corrupted  and  uncultivated  tafte. 

Thefe  charafters  were  firft  difcontinued  in  Italy,  where  the 
round  Roman  hand  was  foon  revived,  which  is  therefore  term- 
ed Italian  ;  and  whence  it  was  by  degrees  introduced  into 
feveral  countries  of  Europe.  But  as  the  prevailing  degree  of 
tafte  was  by  no  means  uniform,  either  in  all  countries,  or  a- 
mong  all  the  clafles  of  qne  and  the  fame  nation,  this  change 
happened  in  different  ways,  and  with  various  modifications. 
England,  fince  the  preceding  century,  has  been  gradually  a- 
dopting  the  round  Italian  letter,  in  all  writings  defigned  for 
the  higher  and  middle  clafles  ;  while,  on  the  contrary,  in  fucli 
writings  as  are  immediatelj-  addrefl'ed  to  the  common  people 
(for  inftance,  in  a^s  of  parliament,  public  deeds,  &c.)  the  old 
angular  character,  generally  called  "  engrofiing,"  is  ftill  ufed  ; 
becaufe  they  have  been  long  accuftomed  to  it,  and  have  not 
3^et  acquired  a  fufticient  degree  of  tafte  *,  tp  perceive  its  in- 
elegance. The 

*  The  author  certainly  alludes  here  to  the  Englifti  lawyers  only  ; 


xcii         THREE   PHILOLOGICAL, 

"The  Knglijh  write  differently  from  what  they  f peak. 

The  Eaglifh  languat^e  confifts  of  a  mixture  of  the  old  Saxoa 
and  Daniili,  of  the  Normannic  and  modern  French,  and  of  the 
Latin.  The  Italian  and  Spauifli  are  often  added  to  this  num- 
ber, but  thefe  two  languages  neither  have  had,  nor  could  have 
had,  fo  great  an  influence  on  the  English,  as  to  form  a  confti- 
tuent  part  of  it,  although  individual  words  may  be  derived 
from  them,  vsrhich  holds  alfo  with  refpecl  to  many  other  lan- 
guages. And  as  tlie  languages  before  mentioned  are  fo  differ- 
ent from  each  other  in  their  external  and  internal  ftrudlure,  it 
is  eafy  to  fee,  that  this  aflociation  or  combination  of  words 
eould  not  take  place  without  great  violence,  and  the  dellruc- 
tion  of  a  great  part  of  the  peculiarities  of  each  of  the  languages 
thus  combined  in  the  Engiifti.  Since,  in  all  languages,  a  clofe 
.adherence  to  etymology .preferves  their  peculiar  form,  and  has 
«.  tendency  to  prevent  thofe  remarkable  changes,  which  the 
conftant  progrefs  of  civilization,  as  well  as  the  precipitate  al- 
terations of  the  people,  would  otherwife  produce  ;  it  is  not 
difficult  to  perceive,  that,  by  this  method  of  adopting  and  incor- 
porating words,  the  proximate  ftru6lure  of  them,  with  refp^ft 
to  the  ear  at  leaft,mull  in  a  great  variety  of  inftances  be  deftroy- 
ed  ;  efpecially  as  this  ftrufture,  in  general,  is  but  very  imper- 
fectly known  in  fuch  words,  as  are  derived  from  a  foreign  lan- 
guage, that  forms  a  component  part  of  the  ancient  language  of 
the  country.  The  pronunciation,  accordingly,  in  all  fuch 
mixed  languages,  is  exceedingly  variable  ;  becaufe  the  neareft 
derivation,  of  the  greater  number  of  words,  is  unknown  to  the 
people,  who  fpeak  them  ;  and  confequently  there  is  no  fixed 
immoveable  point,  to  which  the  ideas  denoted  by  them,  might 
be  attached,  and  which  could  guide  the  tongue  and  the  ear. 
This  deficiency  is  obvious  in  .all  thofe  modern  languages, 
which  have  been  formed  by  a  mixture  with  the  Latin,  as  the 
Italian,  French,  Spanifli,  and  Portuguefe,  the  pronunciation  of 
which  is  expofed  to  far  more  confiderable  changes  than  fuch 
languages,  as  have  remained  pure  and  unmixed,  like  the  Ger- 
man 


as  the.  continuation  cf  this  barbarous  charafter  is  produ61ive  of 
confiderable  fees,  while  thedifufe  of  it  woi^ld  materially  .aflfe£l  tLeif 
I.'iterelL 

Noteoftbt  Cofr.pifftor. 


ESSAYS,    BY      ADELUNG.        xiil 

man  and  her  northern  fifteis.  Thofe  mixed  languages,  too, 
would  in  a  few  centuries  be  deprived  of  tVieir  iiniformity,  had 
not  the  "  latent  perception"  of  neceffity  funiifhed  thefe  nations 
with  a  method  of  preferring,  for  a  long  time,  the  proximate 
derivation  of  words,  at  leaft  to  the  eye,  though  the  ear  mav 
have  lofl  it. 

Explanation  of  this  phenomenon. 

The  method  of  preferring  the  etymology  of  words,  as  a- 
dopted  by  the  nations  above  alluded  to,  is  no  other  than  this, 
that  people  write  differently  from  what  they  fpeak  :  a  phe- 
nomenon, which  indeed  has  been  hitherto  leprefented,  by 
grammarians  -and  philoiophic  linguifts,  as  the  moll  palpable 
abfurdity  that  can  be  conceived  ;  although  the  agreement  of 
all  the  weftern  nations  of  Europe,  in  what  they  have  thus  term- 
ed abfurdity,  fliould  have  convinced  them,  that  there  mui^  be 
fome  realv>n  for  it,  and  which  ought  not  to  be  overlook- 
ed. This  reafon  then  is  no  other,  than  to  preferve,  as  long  aa 
itj  neceffary,  to  the  eye  at  leaft,  the  proximate  derivation  by 
means  of  writing,  although  the  pronunciation  has  loft  it ;  to 
promote  thereby  that  univerfal  intelligibility,  which  is  the 
firft  and  principal  obje£l  of  language  ;  and,  at  the  fame  time 
to    prevent  the  fwerving    and    fluftuating    pronunciation,  as 

long   as  poffible,  from    further  and  ftill  greater  deviations . 

An  example  or  two  will  ferve  to  make  the  matter  more  evi- 
dent. The  following  words,  being  borronved  from  the  French 
and  Latin  languages,  legality ^  legion^  organ^  orgies,  are  now 
pronounced  legallity^  led^hmi,  argun,  ard%hy%.  If  they  were 
written  in  this  manner,  an  Englifliman  might,  at  length,  learn 
to  underftand  them  tolerably  well,  but  he  would  ftill  find  a  dif- 
ficulty, when  thefe  words  occurred  to  him  again  in  their  ori- 
ginal language,  to  recognize  his  own  in  them.  The  bond  of 
connexion  between  the  Engliih  language  and  its  conftituent 
parts  would  thus  be  diflblved,  and  the  reciprocal  intelligibili- 
ty would  thereby  be  rendered  abfcure.  Further,  as  the  pro- 
nunciation in  all  fuch  mixed  languages,  from  the  caufes  above 
mentioned,  is  from  time  to  time  conliderably  changed,  many 
words  would  foon  become  altogether  obfcure  and  unintelli- 
gible, did  not  the  etymological  way  of  writing  them,  ftill 
maintain  their  true  form,  as  long  as  is  pradlicable  and  neceffary. 
Befides,  the  adherence  to  the  neareft  derivation,  and  the  pre-. 
fervation  of  the  original,  form  of  words,  by  accurate  writing. 


xciv  THREE   PHILOLOGICAL 

are  likewife  the  means  of  preventing  the  extremely  fiuduating 
pronunciation  from  ftill  greater  deviations.  This  is  the  true 
realon,  why  all  the  weftern  Europeans,  and  confequentlj  the 
Englifli  too,  write  diiFerently  from  what  they  fpeak  :  and  as 
this  phenomenon  has  been  produced  entirely  by  "  the  latent 
perception  of  purpofe  and  means,"  which  is  involved  in  fo 
miuch  obfcurity,  that,  fo  far  as  I  know,  their  grammarians 
have  not  yet  been  able  to  account  for  it  ;  hence  we  receive  a 
IcjQTon,  not  to  cenfure  the  like  regulations,  if  they  are  univer- 
fally  adopted  by  one  or  more  nations,  until  the  real  foundation 
of  them  has  been  difcovered.  The  diiFerence  of  this  mode  of 
writing  from  that  of  fpeaking,  is  indeed  in  itfelf  an  imperfec- 
tion ;  but  in  all  thofe  languages,  that  are  fo  thoroughly  mixed, 
it  is  a  real  perfeftion  ;  becaufe  it  preferves,  at  leaft  to  the  eye, 
the  immediate  derivation,  and  confequently  furniihes  us  with 
the  ealieft  poffible  method  of  underllanding  words,  while  it 
ferves  to  prevent  any  further  deviations  in  the  pronuncia- 
tion. 

Of  Orthography. 

On  the  preceding  doftrine  of  pronunciation,  is  alfo  founde4 
the  greateft  and  moil  important  part  of  the  Englifh  orthogra- 
phy, or  rather,  the  orthography  of  the  Englifli  language  is  thq 
reverfed  dodtrine  of  prpnunciation  ;  Ijecaufe  it  mull  fhew,  how. 
every  uttered  found  is  to  be  written  with  its  proper  charac- 
ters. The  lefs  important  parts  of  it  are,  the  rules  for  ufing 
initial  capital  letters,  the  divifion  of  fyllables,  the  fpelling  of 
^^  compound  word?,  the  orthographical  iigns,  and  the  like. 

OfiheJiruElure  of  words. 

Neither  orthography,  nor  the  dodrine  of  tone,  nor  any  o- 
ther  part  of  grammar,  can  difpenfe  with  the  elements  pf  the 
JlruBure  of  words ^  or  etymology  in  the  llriftell  and  moll  rigid( 
fenfe  ;  however  much  this  has  been  neglefted  in  all  the  Eng- 
lifli grammars,  with  which  I  am  acquainted.  Hence  I  pro- 
pofe  here,  to  make  an  attempt  towards  tracing  and  marking 
the  outlines  of  this  dodrine,  which  is  fo  little  underfl;oo4  in  al^ 
languages. 

Definition  of  words  and  fyllables. 

Language  is  compofed  of  words.  A  word  is  the  percepti- 
ble expreffion  of  an  idea,  which  is  pronounced  without  fuf- 
pcgding  the   voice.     Words  then  are  the  names  of  particular 

-  ideas 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG;  icv 

idtas,  and  arc  confequently  as  various  in  their  ftrufture,  as 
the  ideas  themfelves.  In  general,  a  word  may  confift  of  one 
or  more  fyllables,  and  a  fjUable  is  a  perceptible  found,  which 
is  pronounced  with  a  fingle  emiffion  from  the  mouth.  Since, 
therefore,  the  vowels  are  fimple  founds,  which  are  produced 
bj  the  mere  opening  of  the  mouth,  and  diphthongs  are  double 
founds,  namely  two  vowels,  In  which  the  voice  pafles,  with- 
out fufpenflou,  from  one  opening  to  another,  it  follows  from 
this,  rtiat  a  word  properly  contains  as  many  fyllables,  as  there 
occur  in  it  vowels  or  diphthongs.  I  have  ufed  the  term  "  pro- 
perly ;"  for  the  pronunciation,  in  Englifh,  occafions  a  variety 
of  exceptions,  by  fuppreffing  many  vowels,  fo  that  for  inftance 
a  word,  which  in  writing  confiils  of  four  fyllables,  may  in 
pronunciation  confift  only  of  three. 

Divijion  of  words f  according  to  their  jlruBure. 
All  words,  with  refpeft  to  their  ftrufture,  are  of  three  kinds  j 
they  are  either  radicals^  or  derivatives^  or  compounds.  Con- 
trafted  words  might  alfo  be'added  here  ;  but  they  belong  for 
the  moft  part  to  the  language  of  low  life  ;  for  inftance,  ^o^r 
for  good  father  ;  gammer^  for  good  mother  ;  or  if  they  are  at 
all  in  general  ufe,  they  are  confidered  and  treated  a3  radicals^ 

DeJinitioT^  of  radicals. 

Radical  words  are  properly  fuch,  as  exprefs  the  firft  origi- 
nal idea,  of  whatever  kind,  by  a  firigle  enaiffion  from  the 
mouth  ;  and  hence  they  are  uniformly  monofyllables,  becaufe 
every  original  idea  Is  founded  on  a  fingle  tranfient  and 
undivided  fenfatlon.  Thefe  radicals  may  again  be  divided  in- 
to various  fpecies  :  but  in  grammar,  this  divifion  is  not  at- 
tended with  any  practical  advantage  ;  for  every  word  that  is 
a  monofyllable,  if  it  cannot  be  proved  to  be  contracted. from 
two  others,  is  admitted  there  as  a  radical.  In  the  following 
part  of  this  treatife  we  fliall  find,  that,  in  Englifh,  the  moft  of 
the  words  borrowed  from  the  French,  Latin,  and  other  foreign 
languages,  are  treated  as  radicals,  of  whatever  number  of  fyl- 
lables they  may  confift. 

Among  the  radical  words  are  likewife  comprehended  thofe, 
which  have  adopted  the  final  letter  e,  for  the  fake  of  rendering 
the  harfti  monofyllables  fo  me  what  fofter,  although  they  ac- 
quire, by  this  procefs,  an  additional  fyllable.  In  all  the  modern 
European  languages^  particularly  in  the  Englilh,  German,  and 

m  2  French, 


xcvi         THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

French,  this  e  has  been  an  ufeful  expedient,  to  foften  the  harft* 
nefs  of  the  old  languages,  and  to  introduce  into  them  fmooth- 
nefs  and  harmonj.  Examples  of  this  kind,  in  Englifh,  occur 
in  the  words  ake^  alcovi^  ale,  anife,  ape,  to  appeafe,  hahe,  bai^ae, 
to  hake.  Sec.  ;  as  likewife  in  the  German  words  y4ffe,  an  ape  y 
Biihe,  Knabe,  a  boy,  and  many  others.  Upon  a  fuperficial  pe- 
rufal  of  Englifh  works,  written  during  the  laft  centuries,  we 
ihall  find,  that  this  expedient,  from  an  extravagant  fondnefs 
for  refinement,  has  been  carried  to  excels,  and  thus  the  ftruc- 
ture  of  words  rendered  obfcure.  There  is  no  doubt,  that, 
with  increafing  cultivation,  the  Englifh  perceived  this  impro- 
priety, and  therefore  rejedled  this  e,  with  which,  in  many 
cafes,  the  words  had  been  unnecefTarily  loaded  :  in  thofe  words, 
however^  where  it  was  flill  preferved  in  writing,  it  was  fup- 
ptefTed  in  the  pronunciation,  and  thus  became  a  mute  final  e  ; 
heftce  the  above  mentioned  words  are  pronounced  dhk,  al~ 
kohvy  ably  dnnisy  cihp,  &-c.  But  whether  this  alteration  has 
been  accomplifhed  within  proper  limits,  and  whether  the  lan- 
guage has  not  acquired,  through  this  medium,  much  unnecef- 
fary  harflmefs,  I  Ihall  not  attempt  to  decide.  T  mufl  only  ob- 
ferve,  that  it  is  a  very  erroneous  rule,  by  which,  according 
to  the  Englifh  grammarians,  this  mute  e  makes  the  preceding 
vowel  unifor?nly  long,  if  by  the  term  long  we  are  to  under- 
ft-and  extended.  Examples  of  the  contrary  occur  in  the  words, 
axe y  fickle,  badge ^  bottle,  and  a  great  many  others  ;  befide  the 
words  confiding  of  three  and  four  fyllables,  in  which  the  pre- 
ceding fyllable  is  not  at  all  accentuated,  and  much  lefs  fhould 
k  be  lengthened,  as  in  artifice,  concurretice,  perceptible,  &c. 

Of  Derivatives-. 

The  limits  of  the  derived  and  compound  words  cannot,  in 
every  individual  cafe,  be  accurately  afcertained  ;  although  they 
may  be  determined  with  fufhcient  precifion,  according  to  the 
ideas  conneded  with  thcfe  words.  •  In  a  grammatical  fenfe^ 
XX.  derived  idea  '\%  formed  by  joining  an  obfcure  collateral  no- 
tion to  a  principal,  or  radical  idea,  and  by  confidering  both  as 
one  fingle  idea  :  and  a  derived  voordzx\i(:^  from  exprefling  this 
obfcure  collateral  notion,  by  means  of  a  fyllable,  which  is  no 
longer  ufed  as  a  peculiar  word,  confequently  is  as  obfcare  as 
the  collateral  notion  itfelf.  Such  a  fyllable  is  then  called  a 
derived  fyllable. 

The  derived f y  liable  s  now  are  of  two  kinds  ;  they  are  placed 

■  either 


ESSAYS,    BY  ADELUNG.  xcvn 

either  before  or  after  the  word :  in  the  former  cafe  they  may- 
be czWed  prapojita,  while  in  the  latter,  we  fhall  call  them  poJi~ 
pojita.  Both,  however,  mull  no  longer  be  ufed  as  pecu- 
liar words ;  for  in  this  cafe  the  new  word  is  not  a  derivative, 
but  a  compound.  The  prcepoJitUy  as  well  as  the  pojlpojita^  are, 
in  Englifh,  of  two  different  forts  :  they  originate  either  from 
the  Saxo-Danilh,  or  from  the  Latin  and  Fiench.  The  words 
derived  from  the  lafl  two  languages  are,  indeed,  considered 
as  radicals,  and  are  not  fubjeft  to  any  determined  rules  ;  but 
with  the  former,  namely  the  Saxo-Daniih,  he  ought  to  be  ac- 
curately acquainted,  who  is  defirous  of  acquiring  z,  thorough 
knowledge  of  tl^e  Englifti  language,  and  of  facilitating  his 
ftudy  of  the  tone  or  accent  of  words  ;  a  do6lrine,  which  with- 
out this  previous  knowledge,  would  appear  very  perpiexed. 

The  principal  prcepojitay  from  the  Saxo-Danilh,  are  the  fyl- 
lables  a,  be,  for,  (in  fo  far  as  it  reprefents  the  GermaH  ver^  mis, 
and  un  ;  for  inftance,  away,  aloud,  abroad,  above,  anew,  to  a- 
bet,  to  abide,  abode  ;  before,  to  begin,  beget,  befall,  befriend  ; 
to  mifgive,  miflead,   milbehave,  miftruft,  millake  ;  unaware, 

unbelief,  undone The  chief  French-Latin  fyllables  are  the 

following  ;  ac,  com,  con,  em,  en,  ob,  op,  pre,  re,/e,Jub  s.nd  Jur. 

The  principal  Saxo-Daniih  pojipqjita  are  thefe  :  ard,  cow- 
ard ;  ed,  for  forming  paffive  participles  ;  as  created,  opprefled, 
animated  ;  el,  fynonymous  with  the  German  e/,  as  bowel ;  er, 
not  only  in  fubftantives,  where  it  correlponds  with  the  German 
er ;  adder,  anfwer,  alder,  angler,  finger ;  but  likewife  in 
verbs,  to  Hammer,  to  waver  ;  and  in  prepofitions,  as  after  ; — 
the  fy liable  en,  in  adjcftives,  as  leaden,  fudden,  fallen  ;  in 
verbs,  to  heighten,  blacken,  redden  ; — efs,  abbefs,  dutchefs, 
largefs  ; — ey,  agreeing  with  the  German  ey,  as  abbey,  fur- 
vey  ; — ing,  for  forming  the  prefent  participles,  as  well  as  lub- 
ftantives,  in  both  of  which  it  correfponds  with  the  German 
ing  and  ung  :  feeding,  breeding  ; — isb,  like  the  German  iJcHf, 
in  apifli,  foolifh  ; — /e,  the  fame  as  the  German  e/,  as  idle,  ancle^ 
angle^  apple  ; — /y,  as  the  German  lic/j,  particularly  for  form- 
ing adverbs,  as  abfolutely,  greatly,  accordingly  — nejs,  for  the 
formation  of  abftrad  ideas,  like  the  German  nifs,  as  goodnefs, 
franknefs,  abllemioufnefs  •,^Jhip,  not  unlike  the  German 
yf)?'«//f,  as  lordlhip,  friendfhip — y,  correfponding  with  the  Ger- 
man ig,  in  adverb?,  and  ey,  in  fubftantives,  as  already,  ab- 
bey.  But  far  more  numerous  are   the  terminations  form-- 

cd   from  the   Latin-French  fyllables,   ance^  antf  ate^  ble^  bly, 

calf 


xcviii         THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

cal^  cle,  cyy  eer,  ier^  en,  ence^  ent^  ial^  iaUy  ic,  ijl^  ive,  ion^ 
Jioriy  tion,  ment,  or^  ous,  ple^  tive,  ure,  y.  Sec.  ]  cannot  enter 
upon  the  fignification  and  the  pradlical  ufe  of  all  thefe  derived 
f)dlables  ;  fince  my  purpofe,  in  this  place,  is  merely  direfted 
to  excite  the  attention  of  future  teachers  of  the  Englifh  lan- 
guage, with  refped;  lo  them.  Let  nobody,  however,  imagine, 
that  the  inveftigation  of  thefe  particles  is  a  mere  illuiion  ;  for 
their  utility,  throughout  the  whole  grammar,  is  very  great, 
particularly  in  the  fubfequent  doftrine  of  the  accent. 

All  thefe  derived  fyllables,  and  efpecially  the  pojipojitay  may 
again  be  combined  with  one  another  in  different  ways  ;  as 
coward,  cowardly,  cowardlinefs,  or  cowardice  ;  crafty,  craftily, 
craftinefs,  or  craft ;  yet  to  inveftigate  their  peculiar  ftrufture, 
would  exceed  the  limits  of  this  EiTay; 

Cbmpound  words  i 

If  two  or  more  ^7ords,  ftill  current  by  themfelves,  are  com- 
bined into  one,  there  arifes  from  this  combination  a  compound 
word.  By  means  of  derivation  we  conjoin  an  obfcure  colla- 
teral notion  to  a  radical  idea;  but  in  compounding  words,  we 
unite  two  radical  ideas,  or  rather  two  clear  notions,  into  one. 
The  defign  of  fuch  an  union  is  to  determine  a  word  and  its 
meaning,  more  accurately,  by  the  medium  of  another  ;  but 
frequently  alfo  to  exprefs  a  metaphorical  idea,  by  means  of 
both.  That,  vv^hich  is  determined  by  another,  or  the  cardinal 
wordy  in  Englifh  as  well  as  in  German,  is  placed  laft  :  while 
the  determining  word,  in  both  languages.  Hands  foremoft. 
Thus  in  the  examples,  cherry-tree,  child-birth,  powerful,  to 
undergo,  to  fubdue,  the  latter  words  contain  the  principal  idea, 
that  is  more  clofely  determined  by  the  words  Handing  fore- 
moft. 

The  compound  words  are  as  various  as  there  are  parts  of 
fpeech,  which  can  be  mutually  combined.  The  lubflantivc 
may  in  this  manner  be  determined  by  another  fubflantive,  as 
gold-filii  ;  or  by  an  adjedive,  as  green-fifli  ;  or  by  a  parti- 
ciple, as  looking-glafs  ;  or  by  a  pronoun,  as  felf-conceit ;  or 
by  a  verb,  as  break-faft  ;  or  by  an  adverb,  as  fore-noon  ; — the 
adjedive  and  participle  may  be  joined  to  a  fubflantive,  as 
haud-fuU  i  to  another  adjedive,  as  big-bodied  ; — the  verb  to 
a  fubflantive,  as  horfe-whip,  bind- weed  ;  particularly  by  th6 
particlesybrf,  outy  aby  ady  at,  de,  /«,  ob,  Cy  ex,  &.c. ; — .the  adverb 
to  another  adverb,  as  thei'e-fore,  whcre-cver,  &.c. 

it 


ESSAYS,    BYADELUNG.,        xciac 

It  would  lead  me  too  far  from  my  obje£l,  if  I  attempted  to 
define  the  nature  of  true  compounds  ;  for  this  can  be  accom- 
plifhed  only  by  means  of  a  minute  and  accurate  inveltigation 
of  them,  from  which  the  general  rules  for  the  cempoundiiig 
of  words  inufl  refult,  and  at  the  fame  time  the  various  modi- 
fications, to  which  the  determining  word  is  liable,  might  be 
difcovered  and  eflabliflied. 

Of  the  tone  or  accent  of  words. 

The  rules  for  the  tone  or  accentuation  of  words,  in  Eng- 
lifli,  are  perhaps  more  variable  and  intricate  than  in  any/ 
other  language.  This  v/ant  of  uniformity  is  owing,  partly  to 
the  whole  genius  and  difpofition  of  the  language,  partly  to  the 
carelefs  method  and  confuted  notions  of  grammarians. — i.  On 
account  of  the  genius  and  difpofition  of  the  language.  The 
Englifh  tongue  is  a  mixture  of  the  Saxon,  Danifh,  French,  and 
Latin ;  it  has  therefore  loft  a  great  fhare  of  its  peculiarity, 
while  each  of  thefe  foreign  languages,  being  thoroughly  mix- 
ed with  it,  "have  likewife"  communicated  to  it  a  confiderable 
part  of  their  analogical  affinities.  Among  other  parts  of  gram- 
tnar,  this  deviation  is  obvious  in  the  accentuation  of  words, 
which  is  regulated  by  different  analogies  ;  hence  no  general 
or  determined  rules  can  be  laid  down  for  it.  In  the  Ger- 
man language,  the  tone  is  the  moft  regular  and  fettled  part  of 
grammar  ;  hence  it  can  be  reduced  to  a  few  plain  rules — 2. 
On  account  of  the  confufion  prevailing  among  gramma- 
rians, who,  in  Englifli,  as  well  as  in  German,  have  always 
confounded  the  prqfaic  meafure  of  the  accent  with  that  of 
the  metrical,  and  theretbre  conftantly  fpeak  of  Io?ig  2LnAjJjort 
fyllables  ;  notions,  which  do  not  at  all  apply  to  this  doctrine, 
and  which  occafion  great  embarrafsment, 

I  am  induced  to  cenfure,  upon  this  head,  not  only  the 
grammarians  and  fchoolmafters  of  the  common  fort,  but  even 
fuch  teachers  and  writers  as  claim  a  fuperior  rank,  for 
inftance  a  Johnson,  Sheridan,  and  feveral  others.  .  The 
latter  has  publiffied  **  A  General  Dictionary  of  the  Eng- 
lifli language,  in  two  Volumes,  Quarto,  London,  1780  ;"  in 
which  he  confines  himfelf  entirely  to  the  accent,  and  the 
pronunciation  of  words;  but,  with  refped  to  the  for- 
mer, he  proceeds  in  the  fame  intricate,  fluftuating,  and  unde- 
terminid  manner,  as  his  other  brethren  of  Prifcian's  family. 


o  THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

It  is  therefore  my  aim  in  this  Eflaj,  to  propofe  a  method,  by 
which  rational  teachers  may,  in  a  great  meafure,  explain  this 
obfcure  doctrine  concerning  the  accentuation  of  words,  and 
thus  arrive  at  fome  certainty,  at  leaft  with  re fpeft  to  a  con- 
fiderable  number  of  Englilh  words.  Previoufly  to  this  in- 
quiry, however,  it  will  be  requifite  to  premife  forne  general 
ideas,  and  to  difmifs  altogether,  the  former  notions  of  lotig 
•aiSidiJhort  fyllables. 

General  Definitions  of  the  accent. 

The  accent  confifts  in  a  particular  elevation  of  the  voice, 
with  which,  in  polyfyllables,  the  one  fyllable  is  as  it  were 
raifed  above  the  others  :  thus  in  emergency y  employment^  the 
fyllables  mer  and  ploy  are  called  accentuated  Jyllahles.  The 
reafon  of  this  mode  of  diftinguilhing  one  fyllable  from  ano- 
ther, is  properly  contained  in  the  nature  of  the  word  and  the 
intention  of  the  fpeaker,  who,  by  this  elevation  of  the  voice, 
points  out  that  fyllable,  which  exprefles  the  principal  idea, 
and  to  which  he  chiefly  dire£ls  the  attention  of  the  hearer. 
Hence  the  two  accentuated  fyllables,  above  mentioned,  (jon^. 
tain  the  principal  ideas  of  the  words,  in  which  they  occur, 
and  all  the  other  fyllables  denote  only  collateral  ideas,  or  fur-i 
ther  determinations,  inflexions,  and  the  like.  I  have  faid, 
that  this,  in  the  nature  of  the  thing,  is  "  properly"  the  in- 
tention of  the  accent ;  for  this  reafon  in  the  German,  and  pro- 
bably, too,  in  all  other  unmixed  languages,  we  meet  with  the 
general  rule,  that  the  radical  fyllable,  in  fuch  words  as  confift 
of  a  plurality  of  fyllables,  always  receives  the  accent  ;  fince  it 
contains  the  principal  idea  of  the  word.  In  the  German  lan- 
guage, this  rule  is  fo  general,  that  the  few  exceptions  from  it 
fcarcely  deferve  any  attention.  But  as  the  Englilh  is  a  very 
mixed  language,  this  rule  is  liable  here  to  a  much  greater  num- 
ber of  exceptions  ;  efpecially  with  refpeft  to  the  words  bor- 
rowed from  the  Latin  and  French,  in  which  the  radical 
fyllable  has  become  obfcure,  fo  that  it  cannot  in  all  in- 
Aances  preferve  its  due  accent.  Since  I  propofe  to  refume 
that  fubje£t  in  another  part  of  this  EflTay,  I  ihall  here  only 
remark,  that  thofe  words  from  the  Anglo-Saxon,  which  are 
ilill  current  in  the  Englifli  language,  follow  this  rule,  and  per- 
haps as  uniformly  as  in  the  German. 

DifiinBion  of  the  accent  as  to  its  force. 

The  tone   or  accent  mufl,  be  diftinguiftied,  both  as  to  its 

force 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.  ci 

force  and  duration.     With   refped    to  the  former,  it  may  be 
divided  into  the  principal  and  concurrent  force  of  the  accent.. 
There  are  certain  poljfjllables,  in  which  two  of  the  fyllables 
are  marked  bj  the  accent,  when    one  of  them,  that  requires 
the  ftrongeft    elevation  of  the  voice,   receives  the  principal 
force  ;  while  the  other,  in  which  the  elevation  of  the  voice  is 
weaker,  is  uttered  with  a  concurrent  force.  Thus,  in  the  word 
horfe-courfer,  the  fyllable  hor,  as  well  as  the  fyllable  cour, 
are  both  marked  by  the  accent  ;  yet  with  this  difference,  that 
the  former    is   more  llrongly  pronounced,  and   the  prijicipcil 
force  is  laid  upon  it ;  while   in  the  latter,  the  elevation  of  the 
voice  is  weaker,  and  confequently  it  is  denoted  only  by  a  con- 
current  force,     There  is,  however,   a  general  rule,  which  de- 
ferves  to  be  remarked  in  this  place,  and  according  to  which  no 
word  can  have  more  t?han  one  principal  accent.     But  the  cafes, 
in  which   words,  befide   the  principal   one,  may  have  a  con- 
current accent,  are  the  two,  following  :   i,  in  compound  words, 
where  every  word  retains  its  accent,  yet  fo  that,  in  one  of  the 
words,  this  accent  becomes  the  principal  or  predominant  found^ 
as  will  clearly  appear  from  the  fequel ;  2,  in  derivatives  confift- 
ing  of  polyfyllables,  which  require  the  principal  accent  to   be 
laid  upon  the  fourth  or  fifth  fyllable  from   the  end  ;  in  which 
cafe,  unlefs   a  fyllable  be  fuppreiTed,  one  of  the  derived  fylla- 
bles receives  a  fecondary  or  concurrent  accent ;  becaufe  three 
or  four  fyllables  in  fucceffion,  without  any  diftinftion  of  tone, 
would  oifend    the  ear.     In    the    word  degetieratenefs^  the  ac- 
cent refts  upon  the  fyllable  ge  ;  and  though  the  e  in  the  fyl- 
lable te  be  fuppreffed,  there   would«ftill  follow   three  fyllables 
in  fucceffion,  without  any  elevation  of  the  voice,  if  the  fylla- 
ble  ra   were  not  pronounced  with  a    fecondary  accent ;  by 
■which  means  this  monotony  is  avoided.     The  fame  occurs  in 
the  woxdiSy  father Hnefsf  delicatenefs,  dbfolutely,  &-c. 

Of  the  duration  of  the  accent. 
Whether  the  accent  be  principal  or  fecondary,  it  is  with  re- 
fpeft  to  its  duration,  either  extended  (long)  or  acute,  (fliort). 
It  is  extended,  when  the  voice  dwells  longer  upon  the  vowel, 
as  in  the  words,  fame,  fate,  father;  acute^when  it  quickly  paffes 
over  the  vowel  and  refts  upon  the  confonant,  which  then  ac- 
quires a  double  found,  as  in  fan,  when,  mother,  pen.  Theie 
diftinftions  between  the  extended  and  acute  accent,  the  gram- 
ij^arians  of  the  Englifh  as  well  as  the  German  and  other  lan- 


cii  THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

guages,  have  endeavoured  to  exprefs  by  the  terms  long  and 
foort ;  but  as  thej  were  under  the  neceffity  of  cilllng  thofe 
ijllables,  which  are  pronounced  with  no  accent  whatever, 
upon  th©  fame  plan,  either  long  or  fhort,  they  involved  them- 
felves  in  perpetual  labyrinths,  from  which  there  was  no  efcape. 
The  h&  is,  that  in  profodj  every  accentuated  fyllable  is  like- 
wife  long,  whether  the  accent  be  extended  or  acute  ;  for  here 

the  unaccentuated  or  neutral  fyllablcs  alone  are  Ihort In  the 

Diftiohary  of  the  Englifti  language,  which  I  have  publifliedin 
two  volumes,  8vo.  Leipzig,  1783  and  1796,  I  have  pointed 
out  the  extended  or  long  accent  thus  (a)  and  the  acute  or 
Ihort  accent  with  this  (a)  mark  :  yet  as  I  was  mifled  at  the 
commencement  of  the  work,  by  implicitly  following  Johnfon 
as  my  guide  in  the  accent,  I  began  that  diftindion  only  about 
the  middle  of  the  letter  A. 

Difference  between  extended  and  acute  fyllablcs. 
From  what  has  been  faid  in  the  preceding  fe£lion,  it  is  evi» 
dent,  that  in  the  extended  accent;  the  voice  dwells  longer  upon 
the  vowel ;  thus  the  fucceeding  confonant   can  have  only  3 
mild  and  fimple  found  :  as  on  the  contrary,  in  the  acute  accent 
the  voice    quickly  glides   over  the  vowel  and  refts  upon  the 
confonant,  which  confequently  is  pronounced  with  more  ener- 
gy, or  like  a  double  confonant.     Hence,   in  German,  we  find 
the  excellent  rule  prevailing,  by  which  only  a  fimple  confon- 
ant is  ufed  after  a  long  or  extended  vowel^   but  a  double  con- 
fonant  after   a  fhort  or  acute   vowel  j  excepting  thofe  cafes, 
where  two  different  confona-'  3  accompany  the  preceding  vowel ; 
for  inilance,  ich  ham,  I  came  ;  Der  Kdmm,  the  comb  ;  die  Muje, 
the  Mufe  ;  ««  mujjen^    to    be  obliged.     This    rule    indeed  is 
liable  to  fome  exceptions,  but  it  forms  neverthelefs  one  of  the 
mofl  adrhirable  peculiarities  of  that  language  ;    a  peculiarity, 
of  which   the  modern  innovators  wifh  to  dcfpoil  it ;  as  thefe 
men  are  move  fond  of  deflroying  than  of  eredllng.     But  in  the 
Englifh   language,  where  the  pronunciation  is  perpetually  at 
war   v^ith    the    orthography,  that  excellent  rule    cannot    be 
put  in  praftice,  as  the  exceptions  from  it  are  more  numerous 
than  the   cafes  "to  which  it  applies.     Thus  the  words,  man, 
mud ,  miig,  mother,  minion,  &c.  have  the  fhort  or  acute  ac- 
cent, though  only  a  fingle  confonant  follows  the  vowel  ,  while 
the  words,  all,  alms,  moft,  call,  fall,  falfe,  farm,  &c.  take  the 
^on<^  or  extended  accent,  notwithf^anding  that  the  vowel  is  ac- 
'  /  com- 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG.  cili 

companied  bj  two  confonants.  Even  the  orthographical 
diphthongs  are  not  uniformly  pronounced  as  fuch;  for  they 
are  very  frequently  uttered  fhort  or  acute,  as  is  obvious  in  the 
wrords,  dead,  head,  learn,  lead,  meadow,  &c.  Nay,  it  often 
•happens,  that  even  double  founds,  according  to  orthography 
at  leaft,  may  occur  in  fyllables,  which  receive  no  accent ; 
for  inftance  in  the  words,  chaplain,  pldgeon,  forfeit.  In  thefe 
circumftances,  it  muft  be  extremely  difficult  to  l^y  down  fixed 
rules,  iA  what  cafes  and  fituations  the  accent  is  acute,  and 
where  it  muft  be  extended. 

Of  the  accent  of  radicals. 

All  radicals  are  originally  monofyllables,  except  in  the  cafes 
already  pointed  out,  where  thb  harfli  found  of  the  monofy lia- 
ble has  been  foftened  by  the  additional  vowel  e.  As  every 
radical  word  is  the  fign  of  an  idea,  it  likewifehas  its  peculiar 
determined  accent,  but  which  is  perceivable  only  in  combination 
with  other  words  ;  for  the  accent  itfelf  is  nothing  elfe  than 
than  a  relative  idea.  There  are  however  words,  which  in  the 
connexion  of  a  fentence  receive  no  accent,  but  throw  it  upon 
the  fucceeding  word  ;  and  thefe  are  commonly  fuch  words  as 
denote  circumftances  or  unimportant  modifications  ;  for  in- 
ftance, the  article,  feveral  of  the  pronouns,  and  the  particles. 
In  "  the  finger^  my  houfe,  on  the  eaji^^''  the  determining  words, 
they  my,  on  the,  throw  their  accent  upon  the  fubftantives  that 
accompany  them.  All  thefe  cafes  ought  to  be  determined  with 
precifion  in  an  Englilh  grammar  ;  it  is  fufficient  here,  to  have 
hinted  at  them — All  the  radical  words,  however,  which  fig- 
nify  principal  ideas,  fuch  as  fubftantives,  verbs,  adjeftives, 
&CC.  muft  necefiarily  be  accentuated.  It  is  evident  from  thefe 
remarks,  that  the  accent,  in  monofyllables,  as  well  as  in  po- 
lyfyllables,  wholly   depends  on  the  importance  of  the  idea. 

Of  the  accent  of  derivatives. 

With  refpea  to  the  accent,  the  derivatives  muft  be  divided 
into  two  great  clafles  ;  namely  into.fuch  as  are  derived  from 
the  Saxo-Danifti,  and  into  thofe  which  have  been  adopted 
from  the  French  and  Latin  :  both  muft,  in  this  refped,  be  fub- 
jed  to  different  rules. 

The  words  derived  from  the  Saxo-Danifh,  follow  that  very 
eafy  and  precife  rule,  according  to  which,  in  polyfyllables, 
the  principal  accent   is  uniformly  placed  upon   the  original 

or 


civ  THREE    PHILOLOGICAt 

or  radical  fyllable ;  a  rule,  which  in  German  is  liable  to  fewet 
.exceptions  than  any  other^  and  which  I  believe  to  be  as  gene- 
ral in  Engliih,  fince  it  is  fo  deeply  founded  on  the  natuTC  of 
the  thing,  and  the  purpofe  of  language  :  for  my  part,  I  am 
acquainted  with  no  words,  that  can  be  confidered  as  exccptions# 
A  few  inftances  will  ferve  to  illullrate  this  affertion.  The 
following  are  derivatives  with  additional  preceding  fyllables  ; 
afdryawdy,behmdy  beget,  begin,  besides  ; — with  fucceeding  fyl- 
lables are,  acorn  (from  the  Low  Saxon  Ecker,  in  which  inftance 
the  fyllable  orn  correfponds  with  the  German  final  fyllable 
er),  bdrenefsy  heggarlinefsy  tdmenefs^  father ^  mother,  singer^ 
hofom,  boijlerous,  fiidden  ; — with  both  preceding  and  fucceed- 
ing fyllables  are,  ajlodmed,  beholden^  behaviour,  beginning,  be- 
comingly— Thofe,  who  pay  proper  attention  to  this  eafy  rule, 
will  find,  that  one  half  of  the  difliculties,  in  placing  the  ac- 
cent on  Englifh  words,  is  thereby  removed. 

The  words  derived  from  the  French  and  Latin,  in  fome  in- 
llances,  likewife  follow  this  rule  ;  to  abate,  to  abandon,  abridge, 
abojninable,  abjiemious  &c. ;  but  as  the  exceptions  from  it  are 
more  numerous  than  the  cafes  to  which  it  applies,  it  cannot  be 
confidered  as  a  general  rule  ;  for  in  the  examples,  avenue,  bar- 
ddrity,  bombardment,  ccmmijfary,  continent,  continuity,  inocu- 
lation, &.C.  the  accent  is  throughout  placed  upon  derived  fyl- 
lables. In  addition  to  this  difficulty  of  diftinguifliing  the  ac- 
cent, we  may  oblerve,  that  the  Englilh  words  very  frequently 
difplace  the  accent  from  the  fyllable,  which  poflefled  it  in 
Latin  or  French.  This  is  the  cafe  in  the  words,  Eiirope,  db- 
fence,  ablative,  abrogate,  dbfolute,  academy,  decent,  ddage,  dd- 
vocate,  ajjignee,  balloon,  and  a  great  many  others.  But  even 
here  fome  general  rules  may  be  formed,  which  would  hold 
good,  atleaft  with  refpedl  to  fome  particular  cafes,  ihus  in 
derived  words,  that  terminate  with  the  fyllables  Jion,  tion^ 
cious  and  tious,  the  accent  refts  upon  the  next-preceding  fyl- 
lable :  this  and  fimilar  rules  we  find  already  Hated  in  the  com- 
mon grammars. — The  caufes,  from  which  the  placing  of  the 
accent  in  Englifh  words  is  fo  precarious,  are  chiefly  the  fol- 
lowing :  I .  becaufe  thefe  words  had  in  their  original  lan- 
guages, namely  in  Latin  and  French,  already  deviated  from- 
the  natural  rule  above  mentioned  ;  the  Latin  words,  imputdre, 
imprtidentiaj  adeqiidtm,  and  the  French  words  imputer,  marincy 
marcher,  opifii6n,have  not  preferved  their  accents  upon  the  ra- 
dical fyllables  ; — -2.    beca^ufe  in  tlie  Englifh  language  theffe  ■ 

words 


ESSAYS,    BY  ADELUNG.  cr 

words  were  frequently  contraded,  fo  that  a  change  in  the  pla- 
cing of  the  accent  became  neceflary  ;  v.  g.  to  opiney  from  the 
Latin  opindri,  or  the  French  opiner:,  although  this  accidental 
thange  was  frequently  attended  with  the  advantage  of  repla- 
cing the  accent  upon  the  radical  fyllable  of  the  word  ;  in  this 
condition  we  find  the  verbs,  to  desire,  from  the  French  defirer  ; 
to  defpair,  from  the  Latin  defperdre  j  to  detejl^  from  detejiari. 

Of  the  accent  of  compound  words. 

Although  every  wordy  when  compounded  with  another 
preferves  its  peculiar  accent  (book-binder,  back-bite)  yet  as 
there  can  be  only  one  principal  accent  pronoiinced  in  eacb 
word,  this  accent  is  ufually,  "  and  according  to  rule,"  placed 
upon  the  determining  word,  namely  that  which  ftands  fore- 
Baoft  ;  for  inllance,  rt/J'^r-OTan,  axle-tree ^  hdck-hiie^  hdck-tuard,^ 
bdne-ful,  bdre-feoty  hUod-fJ^edy  codl-pit.  I  have  faid,  "  according, 
to  rule  ;"  for  there  are  indeed  many  exceptions  here,  not  only 
with  refpe6l  to  various  particles,  as  in  the  v/6rds  al-rmghty^ 
another,  afch-deacon,nvith-hold,with-out,  where-hy,  un-ltke,  ac- 
der-tdke,  &c.  but  likewife  in  the  triple  compound  words,  at- 
to-gether ^afh-voednei-day y  what-fo-ever,  here-to-jorey  for  which, 
inltances,  however,  many  fixed  rules  might  be  dxfcovered. 

KefleBions  upon  words  as  parts  effpesch. 

The  rules  concerning  the  letters  and  their  pronunciation, 
the  ftru6lure  of  words,  and  the  accent  founded  upon  thjtt 
flrudture,  compofe  the  firft  and  etymological  part  of  grammar  ; 
after  which  follows  the  fecond  divifion,  treating  of  words  as 
parts  of  fpeech,  and  their  inflexion.  Wards  are  called  parts 
of  fpeechy  in  fo  far  as  they  denote  different  modification^  of 
ideas  in  the  connexion  of  a  fentence  :  and  in  order  to  underftand 
a  language  thoroughly,  we  mull  previoufly  acquire  clear  no- 
tions of  this  fubjedt. — Speech  is  the  audible  enunciation  of 
our  ideas,  and  thefe  are  (generally)  produced  by  objefts 
without  us.  In  fo  far  as  thefe  objefts  afFeft  the  leprefenta- 
tions  of  the  mind,  they  are  of  two  kinds  only  ;  namely,  either 
felf-fubfillent  things,  i.  e.  fuhjiances  ;  or  thofe  circumftances 
and  modification^  v/hich  occur  in  fubllances,  i.  e.  the  accidental. 
If  our  fpeech  were  conformable  to  the  nature  of  things,  wc 
ihould  have  no  more  than  thefe  two-  parts  of  fpeech  ;  but  as 
we  cannot  comprehend  a  fubftance  with  all  its  relations,  at  on« 
view,  nor  conceive  the£e  in  an  uniform  manner,  various  pai'ts 

of 


cvi  THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

of  fpeech  mull  heceflarilj  refult,  particularly  with  refpeS  tO 
the  accidental.  Belldes,  the  degree  of  perfpicuitj  in  our  con- 
ceptions renders  a  new  diftinftion  necefiary ;  fince  the  repre- 
fentations  of  the  mind  are  either  fo  obfcure,  that  they  remain 
mere  fenfations,  or  aflume  the  form  of  clear  notions.  As, 
therefore,  with  refped  to  the  parts  of  fpeech,  every  thing  de- 
pends upon  the  method,  in  which  they  are  exhibited  to  Xht 
mind  ;  and  as  this  method  is  by  no  means  uniform  in  all  na- 
tions, confequently  the  number  and  difpofition  of  the  parts 
of  fpeech  do  not  correfpond  with  each  other  in  all  languages. 
The  Englifh,  for  example,  have  arranged  their  ideas  and  repre- 
fentations  in  tjie  manner  as  follows. 

I.  Abftrufe  reprefentations,  or  vtxtre.  fenfations ^  in  an  abftraft 
fenfe.  The  expreffion  of  thefe  affords  the  interjeSions,  or 
words  of  fenfation,  which  denote  mere  abftradl  fenfations. 
— From  the  higher  branches  of  etymology  we  learn,  that 
the  interjeilions  are  the  foundation  of  all  language  ;  becaufe 
our  reprefentations  muft  be  firft  abilrufe,  and  confequently 
mierfe  fenfations,  before  they  can  be  developed  into  clear  no™ 
tions. 

II.  Diftinft  teprefentations  or  ideas,  the  expreffion  of  which 
furnifhes  us  with  words,  in  the  moll  concrete  and  peculiar 
fenfe — The  things,  of  which  we  have  ideas,  are  of  a  two- 
fold nature  ;  namely, 

I.  Stelffubftflent  things  or  fuhflartceSy  and  every  thing  that 
is  exhibited  to  the  mind  as  independent.  The  fign  or  ex- 
preffion of  them  is  t\it  fubjlantive. 

1.  Accidental  things f  among  which  We  comprife  all  that 
can  be  diftinguiflied  in  the  felf-fublillent  thing,  and  that  re- 
lates to  it.  In  general,  this  is  again  of  a  twofold  nature  ^ 
for  it  is  either  belonging  to  the  thing  itfelf,  as  red,  great, 
beautiful;  or  it  is.  external  to  it,  3.S  noiVy  here,  away:  in' 
the  former  cafe,  it  is  called  a  quality  ;  in  the  latter,  a  «V- 
cumflance.  But  according  to  the  manner  of  exhibiting  it, 
this  accidental  thing  is  again  divided  into  different  clalTesy 
which  afford  an  equal  number  of  parts  of  fpeech.  It  is  con- 
fide red, 

A.  Independently,  external  to  the  felf-fubfillent  thing,  and 
and  in  immediate  connexion  with  it;  and  then  it  is  in  the 
aforefaid  manner  of  two  kinds  ;  namely, 

I.  a  quality;  hence    arilcs  the*  cpialifying  v/ord,   or  the 

adverb 


ESSAYS,   BY    ADELUNG  cvii 

adverb  of  quality,  which  can  be  predicated  of  the  fubflantive, 
onlj  bj  means  of  a  verb  ; 

2.  ^circumjiance,  which  in  grammar,  is  of  three  different 
kinds  ;  viz. 

a,  an  independent  circumftance,  the  adverhium  circum- 
Jiantice,  or  a  word  expreffive  of  a  circumftance,  in  the  molt 

concrete  fenfe  ; 

b,  the  relation   fulafifting   between  two   felf-fubfiftent 
things,  the  prepofition  ;  and 

c,  the  relation  between   fentences  and  their  members, 
the  conjunBion. 

B.  As  compriled  in  the  attribute,  i.  e.  fomething  accidental 
refpefting  the  circumltance  of  time,  number,  &:c,  predicated 
of  the  felf-fubfiftent  thing,  viz.  the  verb. 

C.  As  already  attributed,  or  in  immediate  connexion  with 
the  fubflantive.   This  is  either 

I.  a  predicated  quality,!,   e.  a  property,  the  name  of 
which  is  expreffed  by  the  adjeBive  ;   or 
a.  a  circumftance  ;  and  tlien  again 

a,  of  felf-fubfiftence,  the  article  ; 

b,  of  the  accidental   relation  to  the  perfon,  the  *ro- 
nouji ;   and  laftly 

c,  of  computation,  the  nuniber. 

Farther  reJieBions  upon  words. 

From  the  pretnifes  laid  (JovC^n,  the  following  parts  of  fpeech 
are  the  neceflary  refult  : 

1 .  The  fuhjiantive,  or  the  fign  of  all  things,which  do  not  only 
fabfift  of  themfelves,  but  which  are  likewife  conceived  as 
fuch.  It  is  either  a  proper  name,  nomen  proprium  ;  or  the 
name  of  a  certain  clafs  of  things,  nomen  uppellat'wum.  As  the 
latter  appertains  to  feveral  things  of  the  fame  fpecies  (for  in- 
ftance,  man^^  horfe,  houfe^')  and  thus  again  fufFers  a  great  dimi- 
nution of  its  felf-fubfiftence,  certain  words  became  neceflkry, 
in  order  to  reftore  this  felf-fubfiftance,  in  ft^ch  fituations  as 
required  it.     This  was  accomplilhed 

2,  by  means  of  the  articles  ; 

3,  by  numbers,  that  exprefs  the  circumftance  of  computa- 
tion ;  and 

4,  by  the  pronouns  ;  which  ferve  to  denote  the  immediate 
relation  of  the  perfon,  in  connexion  with  the  fubflantive. 

5.. 


«ri{i  THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

5,  The  accidental  thing,  as  conneaed  with  the  fubftance  it- 
felf,  is  confidered,  in  the  German  language,  in  two  difFerenf 
wajs,  naraelj  of  itkli  Qer/e),  in  which  cafe  it  can  be  pre- 
dicated of  tlie  fubftantive,  by  means  of  a  verb  onlj,  v.  g.  tbis 
houfe  IS  large  ;  or  in  immediate  connexion  with  the  fubftantive, 
as  tbe  large  houje,  a  great  houfe.  In  the  former  cafe  it  is  called 
edverhium  qtialitatis  or  a  qualifying  word\  but  in  the  lattor,  it 
IS  fimplj  an  adjeBivum  or  a  word  of  property  :  this  is  derived 
from  the  former,  by  means  of  a  peculiar  method  of  infl«£ling 
^^  ^7^  grammarians  called  concretion.  In  Englifli,  however, 
this  diftindion  doe^s  not  prevail  j  for  the  adjedives  here  are 
nowife  different  from  the  adverbs  of  quality  ;  hence  a  peculiar 
term  of  art  would  be  requifite'  to  denote,  with  preciiion,  the 
idea  combined  in  both  cafes  :  God  is  almighty y  and  tbe  almighty 
Cod. — ^To  this  head  alfo  belong  the  participles,  which  are 
aot  confidered  as  particular  parts  of  fpeech,  but  are  either  ad- 
jedives  or  adverbs  of  quality  derived  from  the  verb  ;  fo  that 
they  exprefs,  in  the  fame  word,  the  collateral  idea  of  tinie. 

6,  The  verby  a  part  af  fpeech,  predicating  of  the  fubftantive 
that  which  is  accidental,  together  with  different  collateral 
ideas,  combined  in  one  and  the  fame  word. 

7,  The  prepofitions  ;  8,  conjunctions  ;  and  9,  inter jeciions^  ha- 
ving been  confidered  in  the  preceeding  fedlion,  require  no  fur- 
tf^er  explanation* 

Analyfis  of  the  inflefiions. 

That  which  is  accidental  may  be  exprefled  in  a  great  va- 
riety of  ways,  as  belonging  to  the  felf-fubfiftent  thing  ;  whence 
a  number  of  cafual  relations  arife,  which  would  render  our 
fpeech  extremely  prolix,  if  we  had  not  contrived  means  of 
immediately  denoting  them  in  the  compafs  of  every  word 
itfelf,  through  fimple  radical  founds,  i.  e.  by  infiefting  the  word. 
The  Germans  have  adopted  the  following  modes  of  inflexion. 
I.  The  diftinftion  of  plurality  in  fubftantives,  oxxhcforma' 
iicn  of  the  plural.  1.  'The  diftinftion  of  the  relation  fublifting 
between  the  fubftantive  contained  in  the  predicate,  and  the 
fubje£t ;  the  declenfion,  3.  The  diftindion  of  the  gender  in  the 
words  determining  the  fubftantive  j  the  motion.  4.  "The 
change  of  an  adverb  of  quality  into  an  adjeiftive  ;  the  cowcrf- 
tiojt.  5.  The  diftinclion  between  a  higher  and  the  higheil  de- 
gree exprefled  in  an  adverb  of  tjuality,  or  adjeftive  ;  the  degrees 
*ifco7nparifon.     And  finally,  6,  the.  diftindion  of  the  different 

relations. 


E  S  S  A  Y  S,    BY    A  D  E  L  U  N  G. 


ox 


relations,  which  verbs  denote,or  the  conjugation. — The  Eng^ 
Itjh  language  is,  with  refped  to  the  infleaion  of  words,  very 
fimple,  or  rather  defedlive  ;  for,-  of  the  fix  mpdes  of  infleaiori 
above  fpecified,  three  only  are  known  in  Englilh  ;  namely,  the 
formation  of  the  plural,  the  degrees  of  comparifon,  and  the 
conjugation.  As  the  adjedive  here  is  in  no  manner  different 
from  the  adverb  of  quality,  and  as  the  fixbflantives  like  wife 
have  no  peculiar  declenfion,  there  can  be  exhibited  neither  cqUt 
cretien  nor  motion  in  their  forn^. 

I.  Further  reflediiom  on  thefubflantive. 

I.  Divifionof  it. 

Every  part  of  fpeech  muft  be  feparately  confidered  in  granjr 
mar  ;  it  muft  be  divided  into  its  different  fpecies,  and  the  iar 
flexions,  to  which  it  is  liable,  muft  there  be  exhibited.  The 
-fubftantive  juftly  occupies  the  firft  place,  as  it  is  the  moft  im- 
portant word  in  fpeech  j  in  the  next  place,  the  words  which 
determine  the  fubftantive,  namely  the  articles,  adje£lives,  pro- 
nouns, and  numbers  ought  to  follow  ;  after  thefe  the  verbs, 
and  finally  the  adverbs  and  interje£lions  conclude  the  whole. 
As  it  is  not  my  intention  to  write  a  grammar  in  this  Effay, 
I  fliall  content  myfelf  with  tnaking  a  few  remarks  \xpon  each 
part  of  fpeech. 

The  fubftantive  is  the  iign  of  a  felf-fubfiftent  thing,  or  a 
fubftance.  This  is  either  really  and  independently  fublifting  ; 
or  it  is  not  fubftantially  exifting,  atid  only  reprefented  as 
felf-fubfift.ent :  the  former  is  called  a  coKcretum^  the  latter  an 
ahJlraBum.  The  concrete  thing  is  again  divided  into  four  claffes  ; 
for  it  reprefents  either  the  name  of  an  individual,  the  proper 
name,  nomen  proprium;  or  that  of  a  whole  clafs  of  fimilar  in- 
dividual things,  nemen  appelJativum  ;  or  that  of  a  multitude  of 
things,  in  which  no  individuality  is  diftinguifhed  ;  a  colleftive 
name,  nomen  colleEtivum  ;  or  laftly,  that  of  naatter^j  nomem, 
materiaky  fuch  as  iron,  wood,  ftone,  bread. 

%.  The  gender  of  fiihfiailii'oes , 

Many  languages  divide  all  their  fubftantives  into  certain 
claffes,  borrowed  from  the  phyfical  gender  of  the  animal 
kingdom,  fo  that  e^  their  words  of  determination,  i.  e.  the  ar- 

6  -  '       tides. 


ex  THREEPHILOLOGICAL 

tides,  pronouns,  adje£tives,  and  fometlmes  alfo  the  numbers, 
muft  mark    the  gender  peculiar    to  every   fubftantive.     The" 
queftion  now  arifes,  whether  this  be  likewife  the  cafe  in  Eng- 
lifli.     If  we  follow  the  common  ftatement  of  grammarians,  we 
mull  anfwer   in  the  affirmative  :  but   if  we  refledt  upon  the 
nature  of  the  thing,  we  cannot  allow  the  Englifh  fubftantives 
any  fuch  gender  as  thefe  words  poffefs  in  the  German,  Latin, 
and  many  other  languages.     The  ftrongeft  proof  ot  this  is  the 
abfenc€  of  all  the  genders    in  the  determining   words    above 
mentioned.    The  perfonal  pronoun  of  the  third  perfon,  indeed, 
appears  to   prove  the  contrary.;  for  he^Jhe^  and  it 3  a^e  really 
inflefted  according  to  the  three  different  genders.     But  there 
is  a  great  difference  between  marking   the    phyfical   gender, 
where  this  diflinftion  becomes  iieceffary  ;  and  between  claffiag 
all  fubffantives  according  to  the   different  genders,   although 
they  might    refer  to   inanimate  things,  and  to  abftract  ideas. 
•  All  languages  praftife  the  former  expedient,   though  they  do 
not  make  ufe  of  the  latter   claffification  ;  and  this  is  alfo  the 
cafe  in  the  Englifli   language.     The  Englifti  fubftantives,  as 
i'ubftantives,   mark  no    particular  gender  ;  for  if  they  did  fo, 
their  determining   words    likewife  ought   to  .point    it  out  ;^ 
which  however  is   not  confiftent  with   practice.     Hence  this 
apparent  deficiency  greatly    facilitates  the    acquifition   of    a 
language,  which  does  not  impofe  upon  us  the  talk  of  ftudying 
the  genders  of  nouns  ;  lince  it  is  obvious,  that  this  diilinftion, 
in  our  prcfent  method  of  reprefenting  objefts  to  the   mind,  is 
not  attended  with  the  leaft  advantage,  that  could  in  any  de- 
gree compenfate  this  inconvenience. 

3.  Of  the  formation  of  the  Plural. 

Since  the  words  expreffive  of  kind,  or  appellatives,  may 
either  relate  to  one  thing  of  the  kind,  or  to  a  j:lurality  of 
things,  the  numbers  ferve  che  purpofe  of  marking  this  double 
diftinftipn.  The  formation  of  the  plural,  which  in  the  Ger- 
man, Latin,  and  other  languages  is  very  difficult,  is  remarka- 
bly eafy  in  the  Englifti ;  as  it  is  formed  \ij  adding  the  letter 
s  or  the  fyllable  es  to  the  Angular  ;  and  the  few  exceptions,  or 
deviations  from  this  rule,  we  find  ftated  in  every  grammar. 

4.  Of  the  Declenfon. 

To  decline  a  noun,  is  to  denote  certain  relations  of  a  felfr 
'1  ^  -       fubfiftentr 


ESSAYS;    BY    ADELUNG.  cxI, 

f»ibfiftent  thing,  bj  means  of  fimple  radical  founds,  which  are 
annexed   to  the   word  itfelf:  for  inilance,  Haus,   a    houfe  ; 
Haufes,  of  a   houfe  ;    Haufe^   to.  a   houfe ;    H'dufer,  houfes  ; 
Hdufern^  to  the  houfes,  &,c.     The  Engliih  language  does  not 
admit  of  thcfe  inflexions,  and  by  rejefting  them,  faves  much 
trouble  and  inconvenience,  which  attend  the  many  declenfions, 
and  the  exceptions  from  them  prevailing  in  other  languages.  In 
Engliih,  therefore,  fome  prepofitions  are  ufed,  which  exprefs 
the  infle6led  cafes  of  other  languages  :   and  as  two  cafes  only 
are  marked  by  the  prepofitions,  namely  the  genitive  or  ablative 
of  the  Latin   by  the  particle  of,  and  the  dative  by  to,  bpth  of 
them  are   employed  like  all  other  prepofitions,  without  dif- 
tindiion  of  numbers,  ot  any  other    circumllance.     Yet  there 
is  ftill  a  veilige  of  a  true  declenfion  remaining ,  in  Engliih, 
which  confiils  of  what  is  called  the  genitivus  pojfejjivus  (more 
properly  pojlpojitltms)^,  which    is  pointed  out  by  the  letter  j, 
and  made  ufe  of,.when  the  genitive  flands  before  its  fubflantive 
without  an  article  ;  v,  g.  the  king's  Jpeech,  the  queen'' s  brother  ; 
inftead  of  "  the  fpeech  of  the  king,  the  brother  of  the  queen." 
— It  is  not  difficult  to  difcover,  that    this  'j  is  a  veftige  of  the 
German  genitive,  des  Koniges  Rede.     And  as  the  Engliih  fub- 
ftantives  have  no   variety  of   gender,  this  V  confequently  re- 
mains unaltered,  of  whatever  gender  the  word  may  be  in  other 
languages. 

II.  Of  the  Article, 

The  article  is  a  part  of  fpeech,  which  ferves  to  diilinguiih 
different  kinds  of  abfolutenefs  in  fubftantives,  and  is  chiefly 
ufed  with  appellatives.  Thefe  mark  whole  kinds  of  things  of 
the  fame  nature  ;  fuch  as  horje,  houfe,  tree  •  which,  from  their 
very  extenfive  application,  lofe  a  great  fhare  of  their  abfolute 
identity  :  or,  in  other  words,  as  they  are  common  to  many 
owners  and  places,  the  hearer  could  never  know,  which  indi- 
vidual horfe,  houfe,  or  tree  is  meant,  if  this  circumllance 
were  not  determined  by  the  article.  /  havefcen  horfe,  has  a 
very  oblcure  meanings  whence  the  hearer  is  necefTarily  indu- 
ced to  alk,  whofe  or  what  fort  of  a  horfe  I  have  feen — The 
pronouns  and  numbers,  indeed,  likewife  ferve  to  determine  the 
bbjefts,  but  there  is  yet  another  determination  requifite,  to 
which  they  are  not  adapted,  namely  that  of  abfolutenefs, 
■which  is  e-^preiTed  by  the  articles. 

o  2  In 


c:.ii  THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

In  the  Englifh  grammars,  three  articles  are  generally  enu- 
merated ;  the  indefinite^  which  is  faid  to  confift  in  the  prepo- 
lition  ofm  the  genitive,  and-fo  in  the  dative  cafe  j  the  definite 
exprefled  bj  the  word  the ;  and  the  article  of  unity,  a 
or  an.  But  this  may  be  called  true  pedantry  of  the  fchools, 
by  which  we  are  led  from  ohe  abfurdity  to  another.  For  i, 
who  will  allow  himfelf  to  confider'  the  words  of  and  to  as  ar- 
ticles, iince  they  are  real  ptepofitions,  which  govern  their  re- 
fpeftive  cafes:  2.  If  thefe  particles  of  and  to  reprefent  the 
definite  article,  we  muft  likewife  grant,  that  in  the  expref- 
fions  "  of  the  king-*  and  "  to  the  king,**  two  different  articles 
are  ufed  before  the  fubft'antive,.  viz.  one  that  is  indefinite  or 
imdetermined,  and  another  that  is  definite  or  determined,  fo 
that  one  of  them' neceflarily  fuperfedes  the  other  :  this,  how-j 
ever,  is  a  palpable  contradiction.  3.  The  propofed  article  of 
unity  is  incorredly  exprefled  in  its  denomination,  becaufe  it 
is  liable  to  be  confounded  with  the  number  o?z^,-and  has  ac- 
tually been  confounded-  with  it,  by  feveral  Englilh  gramma- 
rians— -The  definitions  and  explanations  of  the  articles,  which- 
appear  in  the  ufual  French  grammars,  are  equally  erroneous. 
The  Englilh  language  admits  only  of  two  articles  ;  the  definite 
— the,  and  the  indefinite— a;z  before  a  vowel  or  mutt  h,  ahd  a 
before  a  confonant'.  The  latter,  no  doubt,  has  likewife  a  ten- 
dency to  determine  the  felf-fubfiftent  thing  ;  but  as  it  does 
,this  in  a  much  weaker  degree  than  the  former,  it  has  received 
the  name  of  the  indefinite  or  undetermined  article.  I.  The  de- 
finite article  points  out  an  individual  of  a  kind  or  clafs,  that 
is  already  known  and  felf-fubfiilent :  the  emperor,  fignifies,  ac- 
cording to  the  connexion  of  the  fentence,  either  the  prefent 
reigning  emperor,  or  that  emperor,  of  whom  we  were  fpeak- 
ing  laft  ;  confequently  this  article  denotes  one  individually  de. 
terrained  perfon,  which  is  fingled  out  from  that  clafs  of  indi- 
viduals, who  are  or  have  been  emperors.  II.  The  indefinite- 
article  an  or  a  ferves  to  mark  ;  i,  an  indefinite  felf-fubfiftent 
thing  belonging  to  a  whole  clafs,  without  pointing  out  a  par- 
ticular individual  ;  v.  g.  "  an  enemy  is  not  to  be  trufted,"  i.  e. 
"  no  eneray  whoever  he  be  ;"  2,  the  fpecies  or  clafs,  to  which 
a  thing  belongs,  as  an  undetermined  felf-fubfifting  thing,  v.  g. 
'*  he  was  killed  by  a  fword,"  i.  e,  *'  by  one  of  the  weapons 
called  fwords." 

Without   any  article  may  be    ufed;   i,  proper  nouns  ;  be- 
caufe they  are  already  more  accurately  det^mined  by  means 

of 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG  cxili 

6lthe  individual,  to  which  they  refer,  than  they  could  be 
through  the  articles  ;  v.  g.  Cicero  was  an  excellent  orator  ; 
— all  Europe  is  in  confujion  :  excepting,  however,  when  thefe 
nouns  again  partake  of  the  nature  of  appellatives,  i.  e.  -when 
they  may  be  referred  to  more  than  one  thing  ;  for  inftance^ 
tbe  elder  Plinj/y  the  little  yames.  In  like  manner  are  the 
names  of  rivers  and  fliips  conlidered  as  appellatives,  and  con- 
nefted  with  the  definite  article  ;■ — 2,  if  a  -determined  fingle 
individual  is  meant,  and  the  whole  kind  or  clafs  is  underilood 
by  it,  in  which  cafe  the  Germans  make  ufe  of  the  definite 
article  ;  v.  g.  der  Menfch  ijl  verniinftig,  "  man  is  rational ;" 
but  in  fuch  expreffions,  the  Englifli  make  ufe  of  no  article:— 
3,  if  an  indefinite  number  of  fingle  things,  out  of  a  whole 
clafs,  is  to  be  expreiTed  y  or  in  fuch  cafes  as  require  the  inde- 
finite article  in  the  Angular  num.ber  ; — ^^  I  want  pens,"  in  the 
fingular,  "  I  want  a  pen  :" — and  4,  if  merely  the  clafs,  kind,  or/ 
matter  is  to  be  denoted  ;  as  '*  building  is  precious ;  or,  "  it  is 
fine  cloth."  In_  all  thefe  inftances,  the  oblique  cafes  of  the 
nouns  are  only  marked  by  the  prepofitions  of  and  to  in  the 
genitive  and  dative,  and  by  the  fenfe  of  the  aftive  verb  itfelf 
irti  the  accufative,  without  admitting  any  article. 

III.  Of  the  AdjeCi'ive, 

In  the  German  language,  that  which  is  found  to  be  change- 
able in  the  thing  itfelf,  is  confidered  in  two  different  ways,. 
namely,  i,  as  independent  of  the  fubftantive  or,  at  leafl,  not 
in  immediate  connection  with  it,  in  which  cafe  it  is  enunciated 
by  the  verb  ;  v.  g.  der  Mann  ijl  gut,  "  the  man  is  good ;"  or 
2,  in  immediate  conne6lion  with  the  fubftantive,  v.  g.  der  ijl 
ein  guter  Mann^  "  that  is  a  good  man,"  where  the  German 
^  adjective  is  regularly  infledted,,  according  to  the  gender  of  the 
noun  :  while  in  the  former  cafe,  it  is  ufed  adverbially,  and 
remains  indeclinable.  Hence  arife  two  parts  of  fpeech,  name* 
iy  the  adverb  of  quality,  and  the  adjeSive,  or  the  wo  id  ex- 
preffive  of  the  property  of  the  thing,  which  is  derived  from 
the  former,  by  means  of  the  concrete  fyllables  e  for  the  fe- 
minine, er  for  the  mafculine,  and  es  for  the  neuter  gender,  or 
with  the  fimple  vowel  e  for  all  the  thi'ee  genders,  when  the 
definite  article  is  connected  with  the  noun.  And  as  the  Ger-' 
man  fubftantives  not  only  mark  different  genders,  but  alfo  the 
©bli^ue  caffis,  it-  may  be  eafily  inferred,  that  the  adjedives  are 

liable 


'cxiv  THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

liable  to  fimilar  inflections ;  a  circumflance,  which  is  attended 
with  confiderable  difficulties  to  foreigners,  who  apply  them- 
felves  to  the  fpeaking  and  writing  of  that  language.  In  Eng- 
lifh,  a  much  eafier  and  fhorter  method  is  praftifed,  fmce  the 
adverb  of  quality  is,  in  no  refped,  different  from  the  adjeftive, 
and  may  be  combined  with  the  fubftantive,  without  any  in- 
flexion :  thus  it  remains  uniformly  in  the  fame  termination, 
"Whether  we  fay,  *'  the  prince  is  powerful,"  or  "  the  power- 
ful prince."  Hence,  too,  the  adjedives  diftinguifli  no  plural ; 
and  as  the  Englifli  fubftantives  mark  no  gender,  and  are  of 
themfelves  indeclinable,  the  adje£lives  likewife  cannot  be  in- 
fleded,  and  are  iri  this  refpeft  throughout  managed  like  ad- 
verbs. " 

The  only  inflexions,  of  which  adjeftives  are  capable,  are 
the  degrees  of  comparifon,  which  are  formed  nearly  upon  the 
plan  of  the  German,  by  adding  to  the  pofitive  degree  the  fyl- 
lable  er,  in  order  to  make  the  comparative  ;  and  the  fjllable 
ejiy  to  form  the  fuperlative  :  but  very  frequently  thefe  two 
degrees  are  exprefled  by  prefixing  to  the  fimple  adjectives  the 
refpeXive  adverbs  more  and  vioji. 

IV.   Of  numerical  words » 

The  words  denoting  numbers    are   rarely  introduced  into 
Englifli  grammars,  as  particular  parts  of  fpeech,  and  frequent- 
ly they  are   not  at    all  mentioiied  :  we    mull  neverthelefs  at- 
tend to  feveral  peculiarities  in  the  ufe  of  them.     As,  with  re- 
fpeX  to  the  idea  combined  with  them,  they  are  remarkably 
different  from  all  other  parts  of  fpeech,  they  certainly  deferve 
to  be  feparately  treated. — Numbers   denote   nothing   that  is 
difcoverable  in    the  things    themfelves,  as  is  the  cafe  with  the 
preceding   part    of  fpeech  ;  bu^  they  eftablifh  a  circumftancCj 
namely  that  of  numerical  computation.     Befide  this  peculia- 
rity, they  are  alfo   diftinguilhed  from  the  ufual   words  deno- 
ting circumftances,  by  their   immediate  connexion  with  the 
fubftantive,  while  the  former  can  be  predicated  of  fubftantives, 
by  means  of  verbs  orjy.     Grammarians  ought   to  diftinguifK 
the  different   fpecies  of  numerical   words,  fince  they   fignify 
either  abfolute  number  without    any  collateral  idea,  viz.  thtt 
radical  or  cardinal  numbers,  which  may  again  be  divided  into 
definite  and   indefinite  \  or  they  are  connefted  with  the  colla- 
teral ideas  of  order  or  fuccefTion,  claflTification,  proportion,  &c. 

All 


E  S  S  A  Y  S,   B  Y   A  D  E  L  U  N  G.  cxv. 

All  thefe  words  are  liable  to  many  peculiar  applications,  whi^h, 
^owever,  properly  belong  to  the  pjrovince  of  grapiinar. 

V",  Of  the  Pronouns,^ 

Pronouns  are  words  determining  the  fubftantives,  and  de- 
noting thofe  changeable  relations,  which  are  indicated  in  the 
very  ad;  of  fpeaking,  and  the  principal  of  which  concerns  the 
relative  condition  of  the  perfon.  They  are  as  various  as  the 
relations  pointed  out  by  them  ;  namely, 

Xjperfonalf  which  refer  to  perfons  only.  Thefe  may  be  far- 
■^  ther  I,)  definite y  which  are  again  divided  according  to  the 
three  perfons,  and  according  as  each  of  them  is  in  the 
fingular  or  plural  number.  The  firll  and  fecond  perfons  are 
fufficiently  determined  by  the  relation,  in  which  they  appear 
in  fpeech  ;  hence  there  is  no  farther  neceffity  for  pointing 
t)ut  their  gen-.ler.  But  the  third  perfon  is,  of  itfelf,  wholly 
Undetermined  ;  and  fov  this  reafon  its  gender  is  marked  in 
the  fingular  number,  by  diflerent  words  for  each  of  the  three 
■  Renders.  Yet  as  the  Englifli  fubftantives,  in  general,  ex- 
prefs  no  peculiar  gender,  the  third  perfonal  pronoun  ferves 
only  to  denote  tl^e  phyfical  gender  of  the  perfon ;  for  this 
reafon  all  fuch  things,  as  cannot  be  dillinguiflied  by  being 
phyfically  of  the  mafculine  or  feminine  gender,  receive  the 
imperfonal  pronoun  it ;  •?,)  itidejinite,  among  which  this 
undetermined  fyllable  it  occupies  the  firft  rank  ;  a  fyllable, 
which  indicates  a  determined  fubjecl  in  fo  undecided  a 
manner,  that  it  does  not  pofitiyely  follow,  whether  a  per- 
fon or  a  thing  is  undcrftood  by  it :  v.  g.  "  it  is  faid  ;  it  was 
Mr  Pope ;  it  js  I."  -»-In  like  manner  is  ufed  the  improper 
pronoun  one,  in  as  far  as  it  correfponds  with  the  German 
pronoun  man  oi  jemand,,  *'  fomebody  ;"  v.  g.  to  lov^e  one. 

2.  Reciprocal  'pvonoxi.nSj  which  properly  /belong  to  the  former 
clafs,  and  are  only  ufed,  when  the  predicate  is  again  referred 
to  the  fubjed  :   "  I  love  myfelf,"  &c. 

3.  FoJJeJJlve  pronouns  ferve  to  determine  the  relation  of  pof- 
feffion,   with  refpert  to  the  perfon.     They  are  either  con- 

jun6live,  when  immediately  combined  with  their  fubftan- 
tives, *'  my  houfe,  your  father  ;"  or  ahfolute,  when  they 
are  predicated  of  fubftantives  by  means  of  a  verb,  as 
likewife  in  anfwering  a  queftlon  :  v.  g.  *'  this  houfe  is  mine  ; 
•^whofe  father  called  ? — yours."  The  pcflefiive  pronoun 
.    .    ••  '  '  of 


cxvi         THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

of  the  third  perfon  is,  like  the  perfonal  pronoun,  again  dif- 
tinguiftied  according  to  its  phyfical  gender,  fo  that  his  and 
her  are  ufed  of  things,  which  by  the  laws  of  nature  are  of 
the  mafculine  or  feminine  gender  ;  and  in  all  other  cafes 
the  poffeffive  pronoun  its, 
4.  Demonjlrative  pronouns,  which  denote  the  relation  of  the 
place  with  refpe£t  to  the  fpeaker,  fo  that  the  neareft  place 
is  exprefled  bj  the  words,  this  in  the  fingular  or  tbefe  in  the 
plurd,  and  the  moft  remote,  by  the  refpedive  words  that 
or  thofe. 
"  5.  Determinative  pronouns,  which  afcertain  the  fubjeft,  to 
which  a  fentence  is  referred  by  means  of  the  fubfequent  reci- 
procal pronoun.  To  this  number  belong,  partly  the  perfon- 
:al  pronouns  he  and  Jhe,  when  they  are  ufed  in  a  determi- 
nate fenfe,  v.  g.  **  he  that,  or  who,  fights  with  filver  arms  ;" 
partly  the  pronoun  fuch^  in  which  cafe  it  is  accompanied  by 
the  particle  at :  **  fuch  as  are  loyal,  &c."  ;  partly  alfo  the 
"  pronoun  of  identity,"  the  fame,  with  its  further  deter- 
minations, the  very  fame,  the  f elf  fame  ^  and  the  very. 
JS.  Relative  pronouns,  which  bring  back  the  fentence  to  a  fub- 
je£l,  either  previoufly  pointed  out,  or  connefted  with  a  de- 
terminative pronoun  ;  of  which  clafs  are,  who,  which,  what, 
and  that, 
*J.  Interrogative  pronouns  ferve  to  introduce  a  queflion,  for 
which  purpofe  we  make  ufe  of  the  relative  pronouns,  who, 
which,  and  what. 

The  pronouns,  in  general,  and  the  perfonal  pronouns,  in 
particular,  are  very  irregular  in  their  inflexion.  This  pecu- 
liarity is  remarkable,  net  only  in  the  Englifh,  but  likewife  in 
all  the  languages  hitherto  difcovered  :  for  the  pronouns  may 
be  clafTed  among  the  moft  ancient  words  in  fpeech  ;  their  ori- 
gin muft  be  traced  in  the  primitive  ages,  when  the  language 
of  every  nation  was  yet  in  its  infant  ftate. 

A  number  of  other  pronouns  are  commonly  enumerated  in 
grammars  under  the  name  of  pronomina  indefinita  ;  but  as 
they  exprefs  none  of  the  relations  denoted  by  pronouns,  they 
cannot  be  reduced  to  any  of  the  clafles  before  fpecified.  Be- 
fides,  many  of  them  are  fo  pointedly  determined,  that  no  ra- 
tional being  will  confider  them  as  indefinite  ;  for  inftance,  all, 
whole,  each,  neither,  every,  &c.  By  far  the  greater  part  of 
them  rather  belong  to  the  clafs  of  general  numbers,  viz.  all, 
dmyyfome,  both,  each,  either ^  neither,  every,  few,  mucbj  no,  none. 

Some 


ESSAYS,    BY    ABELUNG.         csvii 

Some  again,  as  whole,  certain,  othir,  are  with  more  propriety 
ranked  among  the  adjedlives  ;  ahd  others  as  ever  and  never, 
arc  in  reality  adverbs. 

VI.  Ojfiheverh, 

ThiC  verb  is,  in  all  languages,  the  nioil  artificial  atid  the  moft 
difficult  part  of  fpeech  ;  becaufe  men  have  contrived  to  point 
out,  in  immediate  connexion  with  it,  very  different  and  mul- 
tiplied relations.  To  denote  thefe  relations  properly,  in  the 
various  inflections  of  the  verb,  is  called  by  grammarians,  to 
conjugate.  The  verbs  are  divided  into  diftereut  fpecies,  arifing 
partly  from  thtiTjignification,  partly  from  their  use,  and  partly 
alfo  from  their  conjugation. 

With  refpcft  to  i\\t\T  Jignijication,  they  attribute  fome thing 
to  an  objecl,  which  can  either  be  conceived  immediately  in  it, 
and  in  this  cafe  they  are  called  intranjitive,  fometimes  too,  but 
not  very  properly,  neuter  verbs ;  or  they  imply  fomething 
that  takes  place  externally  to  it,  tranjitive  verbs  j  when  two 
felf-fubfiflent  things  are  required,  the  one  of  which  is  in  an 
aftive,  and  the  other  in  a  paffive  ftate.  On  this  account,  in 
many  languages,  the  tranfitive  verbs  have  two  different  forms  ; 
namely  the  aBive,-  when  the  fubjeft  is  in  an  aclive  flate,  aud 
the  pajjive,  when  it  is  fuffering.  The  reciprocal  verbs  are  true 
tranfitives,  with  this  exception  only,  that  the  pre4icate  is 
brought  back  to  the  fubjeft,  by  means  of  a  pronoun. 

With  refpeft  to  the  life,  the  verbs  are  e\t\\tx perfonal.  When 
their  fubjetSt  is  determined,  or  impcrfinal,  when  it  cannot  be 
afcertained,  and  confequently  is  fomething  unknown.  Farther, 
they  are  either  perfeB,  when  they  can  be  ufed  in  all  the  dif- 
ferent relations,  in  which  the  predicate  can  be  placed  towards 
the  fubjeft  ;  or  defeBive,  when  they  are  ufed  only  in  fome  o^f 
thefe  relatione. 

With  refpeft  to  the  conjugation,  the  verbs  are  called  regulaf; 
when  all  their  relative  ftates  can  be  exprefTed  conformably  to 
one  rule  ;  or  irregular,  when  they  deviate  from  the  eftabliihed 
rule. 

The  relations,  circumflances,  and  collateral  notions,  which 
mankind  have  contrived  to  exprefs  by  the  verb,  are  very  nu- 
merous.    ']lie  principal  of  them  are  as  follows. 
J.  The  Jorm  of  the  word,  whether  a  verb  is  tran/ttivCf  or  in- 

tranjltive ;  and  in  the  former  cafe,   whether  it  is  aBive 

Gi  p»/Jive, 


cxviii      THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

2.  The  mood  or  the  manner,  in  which  the  predicate  is  ftatcd 
concerning  the  fubje£l.  This  may  be  done,  a,)  in  a  pofitive 
manner,  implying  truth  and  certainty  ;  hence  the  iridicative 
mood ;  b,)  in  an  uncertain  and  doubtful  manner,  the  conjunc 
twe ;  c,)    by  way  of  command,   tlie   i?nperative  ;  and  d,) 

without   any  reference  to  the  perfon,  the  infinitive The 

participle,  which  is  fometimes  confidered  as  a  peculiar 
mood,  deferves  no  place  here  ;  fince  it  is  properly  an  adjec- 
tive derived  from  the  verb,  and  carrying  with  it  the  colla- 
teral idea  of  time. 

3.  The  time,  in  which  the  predicate  belongs  to  the  fubjedl. 
This  ftriftly  coniiils  of  thiee  periods  only, namely  the prefenf, 
"pafti  and  future ;  but  as  the  two  laft  are  fufceptible  of  a 
great  variety  of  farther  determinations,  not  indeed  arifing 
from  their  own  nature,  but  from  the  various  relations  of 
fpeech,  many  languages  exprefs  thefe  in  the  verb  itfelf ;  and 
thus  the  paji  time  is  again  divided  into  three  tenfes,  the 
imperfeB,  perfeSI,  and  pluperfeB  ;  in  a  fimilar  manner  the 
futu?-e\s  again  refolved  into  feveral  fpecies. 

4.  The  number  of  the  perfous  of  the  fubjeft  ;  and  laftly, 

5.  The  /pedes  of  the  perfon  itfelf,  whether  it  is  the  firft,  fe- 
cond,  or  third. 

To  exprefs  all  thefe  circumftances  and  relations  in  the  verb 
itfelf,  agreeable  to  the  method  adopted  in  every  language,  is 
by  grammarians  called,  to  conjugate.  Under  this  expreflion, 
liowever,  we  underhand  only  this  much,  that  all  the  relations^ 
above  dated,  ought  to  be  exprefled  by  means  of  proper  fylla- 
bles  of  inflexion,  attached  to  the  root  of  the  verb  itfelf ;  and 
in  this  procefs,  the  Englifh  language  is  remarkably  fimple  and 
eafy.  It  admits  only  of  one  form  and  one  gender  j  for  the  ///- 
tranjitive  verbs  are  likewife  conjugated  in  the  aSiive  form  i 
in  this  there  are  only  three  moods^  the  indicative,  the  impera- 
tive and  the  infnitive  :  in  the  indicative  we  make  ufe  of  two 
tenfes,  viz.  the prefent,  and  a  fpecies  of  the  pall,  the  imperfeB ; 
but  in  the  imperative,  and  iniinitive,  of  one  tenfe  only  :  in 
both  tenfes  of  the  indicative,  there  appear  tvoo  numbers,  and  iti 
each  of  thefe,  three  perfons,  which  however  can  be  only  im- 
perfeftly  marked  by  the  verb  itfelf;  a  deficiency,  which  ren- 
ders the  prefixing  of  the  pronouns  neceffary. 

To  denote  the  remaining  relations,  the  Englifh  are  obliged 
to  make  ufe  of  circumlocution,  or  of  indirect  expreffions  fur- 
nilhed  them  by  certain  verbs,  tliat  generally  indicate  foroe  col- 

Jaterai 


ESSAYS,   BY   AbELUNG.  cxix 

lateral  circumflances,  and  on  this  account  are  called  auxiliary 
•words;  becaufe  thfey  ferve  to  exprefs  thofe  relations,  in  the  for- 
mation of  whicli  the  Englifh  verbs  are  deficient.  Thefe  then 
confill  of  the  verbs,  to  be,  for  the  paffive  form ;  I  mayy  for  the 
conjunftive  ;  to  have,  for  the  paft  ;  arid  IJhally  for  the  future 
tenfes  5— although  feveral  other  auxiliary  verbs  are  commonly 
enumerated.  But,  as  the  whole  of  this  periphrajlical  conjuga' 
tion  has  been  formed  merely  upon  the  plan  of  the  niore  com- 
plete Latin  infledlion  of  verbs,  thofe  above  fpecified  will  anfwer 
the  prefent  purpofe  J  fince  any  other  method  of  conjugating 
verbs,  if  carried  on  by  auxiliary  words,  is  in  every  refpedl  pe- 
riphraftical. 

I  cannot  here  enter  upon  thfe  exteiiu-7e    application  and  the 
ufe  of  thefe  auxiliary  words  ;  and   therefore  I  ftiall  only  ob- 
ferve,  that  the  tranjitive  verbg^  in  the  German  language,    are 
divided   into  two  clafies,  according  as  the  ideas  exprelTed  by 
them  partake  more  of  the  aftive  Or  paflive   meaning.     In  the 
former  cafe,  they  are  accompanied  by  the  auxiliary  verb  ha- 
beriy  "  to  have ;"  in  the  latter,  hyfeyn,  "  to  be ;"  v.  g.  er  hat 
gefchlafen,  "  he  has  flept  5"  but  in  another  inftance,  er  iji  ge- 
neferif  "  he  is  recovered."     This  diftinftion,  however,  does  not 
prevail  in  Englifh,  where  all  tranfitives  are  inflefted  by  the 
auxiliary   verb,   to  have,  without  attending  to  their  fignifica- 
tion. — Regular  verbs  are  fuch  as  preferve  the  radical  fyllable 
unchanged,  and  in  which  the  infieftion  is  carried  on,  in  an  uni- 
form manner,  by  means  of  fixed  terminating  fyilables.     Irre^m 
gular  verbs  either  deviate  from  th€  eftablilhed  fyllable  of  in- 
flexion, or  they  frequently  want  it  altogether ;  for  inftance, 
/  biirjl ;  imperf .  /  biirjl  ;  participle,  lurjl  or  burjlen  ;  or  the  in- 
fleftion  takes  place    in  the  radical  fyllable  itfelf ;  I  bleed -,  im- 
perf. /  bled ;  participle,  bled ;  or  where  both  deviations  Occur 
in  the  fame  verb;  I  befeech  ;  imperf.  /  bejought  \  p&rtic^- 
feeched  cr  bef ought.    The  irregular  verbs  are,  in  all  languages, 
the  moft  ancient  and  the  moft  original :  in  tracing  the  nature 
and  origin  of  them,  we  miift  *efort  to  the  higher  branches  of 
etymology.     In  Englifh  we  find  the  irregular  verbs  through- 
out derived  from   the  Saxo-Danifh,  in  which  language  they 
likewife  appear  in  the  irregular  form  ;  as,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  verbs  formed  from  the  French  and  Latin  uniformly  follow 
the  regtlar  inflexion. 

p  2  VII. 


cxx      THllEE   PHI  to  LOGIC  AL,  &c. 
VII.  Of  the  F articles. 

The  particles  furnifli  a  fubjeft  of  inquiry,  that  would  be  in- 
coniirtent  with  the  limits  of  this  Eflay.  They  are  throughout 
conftdered  as  adverbs  ;  fince  they  denote  either  a  circumftance 
in  general,  in  which  cafe  the  precife  meaning  of  them  refults 
from  thofe  parts  of  fpeech,  with  which  they  are  immediately 
conne£led  ;  or  they  point  out  a  circumftance  of  itfelf,.  and  in- 
dependent of  any  other  part  of  fpeech,  in  which  fituation  they 
are  called  adverbs  ;  or  they  relate  to  particular  kinds  of  circum- 
flances  :  thus  the  prepojitions  denote  the  relation  fubfifting  be- 
tween two  fubftantives,  in  which  relation  they  have  been  placed 
fey  the  verb  ;  as  the  conjunBions  mark  the  relation  between  fen- 

tences  and  their  members The  laft  part  of  fpeech,  with  which 

grammarians  conclude  their  tafk,  comprifes  the  interjeBions. 
They  exprefs  the  various  fenfations  or  emotions  of  the  mind, 
fimply  as  fuch,  and  may  be  divided  according  to  the  various 
kinds  of  thefe  emotions.  There  are  however  fome  words,  i.  e. 
expreffions  of  clear  ideas,  which  are  occalionally  ufed  to  de- 
note mere  fenfations  ;  for  inftance,  '*  O  fad  !  well  a  day  !'* 
and  for  this  reafon  they  canaot^.  with  Ilrift  propriety,  be  called 
interjections. 

ConcluJiotiM 

Since  my  intention,  throughout  the  whole  of  this  treatife, 
has  been  no  other,  but  to  iliew  ill  a  curfory  mahner,  that 
the  Englifh  grammar  is  lefs  arbitrary,  and  more  fufceptible  of 
rational  treatment,  than  many  philologers  imagine,  I  muft 
content  myfelf,  for  the  prefenf,  with  this  fliort  fpecimen. 

If  teachers  and  learners  ftiould  gradually  adopt  this  method 
of  etymological  reafoning,  it  will  be  eafy  to  apply  it  to  the 
fyntax  j  wliich,  independently  of  this  confideration,  is  much 
caiier  and  more  concife  in  Engliflx  than  in  other  languages  ; 
becaufe  the  words,  in  the  former,  are  deprived  of  nearly  the 
whole  of  their  inflection.  Indeed,  by  far  the  moft  eJTentiaJ 
bufinefs  in  the  fyntax  confifts,  partly  of  a  rational  method  of 
Gonftructing  thejeries  of  words,  in  which  the  Englifh  language 
much  refembles  the  German  ;  partly  of  the  proper  ufe  of  the 
participles,  which  difplay  many  peculiarities  in  the  conftruc- 
tion  of  that  language. . 

ESSAY 


ESSAY    THIRD. 


On  the  relative  merits  and  dements  of  Johnfoii^ s 
English  Dictionary, 


X.  HE  Englifh  are  in  poffeffion  of  a  very  copious  Di^ionary 
of  their  language,  with  which  the  late  Dr.  Samuel  Johnsot 
has  prefented  them,  and  of  which  the  fourth  edition  appear- 
ed (London,  1773)  with  fome  additions,  in  two  large  Folio 
Volumes,  compriling  upwards  of  thirty  Alphabets,  or  716 
Sheets  of  letter.prefs  *.  1 

As  the  completenefs  of  this  work,  together  with  the  criti- 
cal and  philofophic  manner,  which  the  author  follows,  has 
been  frequently  the  fubjeft  of  great  praife,  not  only  in  Eng- 
land, but  alfo  in  other  countries,  by  recommending  it  as  a  mo- 
del of  a  ufeful  Didionary  for  any  language ;  I  was  induced 
to  think,  that  an  accurate  abridgment  of  this  work  might  of 
itfelf  fuffice,  to  fupply  fo  important  a  defeft  in  German  lite- 
rature. Nor  indeed  had  I  directed  my  views  further,  when  I 
refolved  upon  publifhing  an  Englifh-German  Diftionary,  de- 
figned  chiefly  for  the  ufe  of  my  countrymen.  But  upon  a 
more  minute  inquiry  into  the  merits  of  Johnfon's  work,  I 
very  foon  difcovered,  that  this  performance,  notwithftandjng 
the  many  advantages  it  poiTeffes,  is  replete  with  great  imper- 
fe£lions. — As  thefe  imperfeftions  are  of  fuch  a  nature,  as  to 
exhibit  themfelves  more  remarkably  in  an  abridgment,  tran- 
flated  into  German,  than  they  perhaps  do  appear  in  the  origi- 
nal ;  and  as  the  principal  utility,  which  the  Germans  expe£t 
from  fuch  an  undertaking,  might  thus  have  been  much  dimi- 
niihed,  I  was  obliged  to  fubmit  to  a  more  arduous  taik  than 
I  was,  at  firfl,  inclined  to  undertake. 

This  aflfertion  will  not  be  confidered  as  unjufl,  when  I  fhall 
point  out,  individually,   the  principal  requilites  to  a  Didion- 
ary,  and  remark  upon  every  point,  how  far  yahnfon  has  per- 
formed 

*  This  computation  is  made  from  thefirft  Edition,  Lond.  J755» 


eixii       THREE    PHILOLOGICAL, 

formed  his  duty,  and  wherein  /  have  endeavoured  to  improve 

iipon  him. 

1.  In  the  number  of  words. 

3,  In  the  vahie  and  dignity  of  every  word,  whether  it  be 
quite  obfolete  or  current ;  and  in  the  latter  cafe,  whether 
it  is  ufcd  in  the  more  elevated,  poetical,  focial,  or  vulgar 
Ryle. 

3.  In  the  grammatical  nature  of  the  word,  to  which  I  alfo  re- 
fer the  orthography,  the  ittark  of  tfie  accent,  and  the  pro- 
nunciation. 

4.  In  the  etymology  or  derivation. 

5.  In  the  decompofition  of  the  principal  idea  denoted  by  the 
word  ;^-eithei  by  means  of  a  definition, or  by  a  fynonymous 
German  word  ;— :-and  in  the  analyfis  of  the  different  figni- 
fications. 

6.  In  the  ilhtltration  of  words  by  exaraipTes  ;•  and, 

*j.  In  the  grammatical  combination,  or  the  ufe  of  every  word', 

witli  refped  to  the  fyntax. 

Conformable  to  this  divilion  of  the  fubje£t,  liTiall  offer  fome 
remarks  upon  each  of  thefe  particular  points. 

I.  Concerning  the  number  and  the  pratlical  ufe  of  words 
I  expected  to  find  the  work  of  Johnfon  in  its  greatefl  perfec- 
tion. In  a  book,  confifling  of  2864  pages,  large  folio,  and  four 
times  reprinted,  I  hoped  to  meet  with  the  whole  treafure, 
or  at  leail  with  the  moil  necelTary  and  current  words,  ot 
the  Englifh  language.  But,  in  this  refpefl,  my  difappoint-i 
ment  Was  great ;  and  thofe^  who  have  confulted  Johnfon's 
Dictionary  with  the  fame  view,  will  agree  with  me,  that 
upon  this  very  point  he  difplays  his  weakefl:  fide.  We  mufl 
however  do  him  the  jufkice  to  allow,  that  with  refpe£l  to 
terms  of  fcience,  and  written  language,  his  work  is  very  com- 
|)lete  ;  but  it  is  defedlive  in  focial  language,  in  the  language 
of  civil  life,  and  in  the  terms  of  arts  and  manufaftures.  His 
defeft  in  the  laft-mentioned  branches,  the  author  himfelf  ac- 
knowledges in  the  preface,  and  makes  this  llrange  apology  for 
it,  •*  that  he  found  it  impoflible  to  frequent  the  work-lhops 
of  mechanics,  the  mines,  magazines,  Ihip-yards,  &c.  in  order 
to  inquire  into  the  different  terms  and  phrafes,  which  are  pe- 
culiar to  thefe  purfuits."  Yet  this  is  a  great  defideratum  to 
foreigners,  and  confiderably  detradVs  from  the  merit  of  a  work 
of  tl^is  nature  ;  for  thefe  are  the  preeife  cafes,  in  which  they 
have  moil  frequent  occafiou  for  confulting  a  Dictionary.     To 

this 


ESSAYS,    BY  ADELUNG,         cxxm 

this  head  we  may  refer  the  names  of  plants,  fifties,  birds,  an4 
infe£ls^  frequently  occurring  in  common  life,  of  which  '4 
great  number  are  wanting  in  the  work  of  Johnfon ;  though 
this  deficiency  might  have  been  moft  eafily  fupplied,  as  there 
certainly  is  no  want  of  botanical  books  and  publications  on 
Natural  Hiilory,  in  the  Englilh  language.  In  order  to  ihow 
the  extent  of  this  deficiency,  in  a  perticular  inllance,  I  lliall  only 
remark,  that  in  the  fingle  work  containing  the  laft  voyage  of 
Capt.  Cook,  in  two  moderate  volumes,  oflavo,  (publilhed 
1782)  there  occur  nearly  one  hundred  words,  relating  partly 
to  navigation,  partly  to  Natural  Hiilory^,  that  cannot  be  found 
in  Johnfon's  or  other  Dictionaries. 

It  will  be  admitted,  that  a  di£lioaary  of  a  language  ought 
to  poflefs  the  greatefl  poflible  degree  of  completenei's,  parti- 
cularly with  refpeCl  to  names  and  technical  terms,  which  are 
more  rarely  employed  in  common  language,  and  the  meaning 
of  which  cannot  be  conjeftured  from  the  context.  As  fuch  words 
frequently  become  an  objedt  of  refearch,  1  have  found  myfclf 
under  the  difagreeable  neceflity  of  filling  up  thefe  chafms,  as 
far  as  my  time,  my  plan,  and  my  fources  of  information  would 
admit.  Thus  I  have  increafed  the  ftock  of  words,  occurring 
in  Johnfon's  and  other  Englifh  Diftionaries  of  diflinguilhec^ 
merit,  with  a  great  number  (perhaps  feveral  thoufands)  of 
words  which  were  wanting  ;  efpecially  fuch  as  concern  the 
objefts  of  the  animal  and  vegetable  kingdoms,  of  the  Englifli 
conftitution,  and  of  various  other  departments.  With  regard 
to  the  laws,  manners,  and  cuftoms  of  England,  I  have  availed 
myfelf  of  the  well  known  work  of  Entick. 

The  proper  names  of  countries,  places,  and  perfons,  when 
deviating  from  the  genuine  orthography,  I  have  likewife  more 
corre£lly  ftated,  and  added  fuch  as  have  been  omitted  in  John- 
fon's and  other  dictionaries. 

For  the  improvement  of  terms  in  focial  language,  I  am 
much  indebted  to  Boyer's  Engliili  and  French  Dictionary. 
But  as  I  had,  in  this  refpect,  placed  more  confidence  in  John- 
fon than  I  could  juftify  after  a  careful  examination  of  his 
work ;  and  as,  on  this  account,  I  did  not  bellow  the  portion 
of  time  requifite  to  a  clofe  comparifon  with  other  Dictionaries, 
I  readily  confefs,  that  there  remains  much  to  be  done  yet,  e^ 
Specially  with  the  afliflance  of  the  lateft  Englifli  productions 
|n  the  department  of  Belles  Lettres.     For,  in  latter  times,  the* 

Engli^ 


cxxiv       THREE   PHILOLOGICAL 

Englifh  language  appears  to  have  undergone  the  fame  changes 
as  the  French  and  German. 

II.  It  is  well  known,  that  all  the  words  of  a  language  do  ^ 
not  poffefs  an  equal  value  or  degree  of  currency  :  fome  of  them 
are  entirely  obfolete,  but  ftill  occur  in  writings,  which  are  flu- 
died  in  modern  times,  for  inftance,  in  the  tranflation  of  the 
Bible,  in  Shakefpeare,  Spencer,  Stc. ;  others  are  peculiar  to 
poetical  language  ;  again,  others  are  current  only  in  certain 
provinces,  or  ii^  particular  fituations  of  life  ;  and  ftill  others  arc 
vulgar,  and  exploded  from  the  more  dignified  written  ftyle,  as 
well  as  from  the  polite  circles  of  converfation.  It  is  one  of 
Johnfon's  great  merits,  that  he  has  carefully  attended  to  this 
diftin£tion  ;  I  have  likewifa  marked  it,  in  my  Englifh  and 
German  Diflionary,  with  equal  attention  ;  and  I  have  point- 
ed out  the  moft  neceflary  of  thefe  diftindions,  by  means  of 
particular  figns  or  charafters. 

III.  Next  to  the  preceding,  I  confider  the  grammatical  de- 
fignation  of  every  word  as  the  moft  important  part  of  a  good 
Dictionary  :  and  under  this  head  I  place  not  only  the  ortho- 
graphy, the  accentuation,  and  pronunciation,  but  alfo  the  claf- 
iification  of  a  word,  to  whatever  clafs  it  belongs  as  a  part  of 
fpcech,  and  finally,  its  infledion  ;  whether  it  be  regularly  or 
irregularly  declined  or  conjugated.  Upon  this  point,  alfo, 
Johnfon  is  in  moft  inftances  very  corred  ;  excepting  that  he 
does  not  always  diftinguifli  the  fubftantive  from  the  adverb, 
and  this  again  from  the  adje£live  ;  an  imperfedion  which, 
with  the  aid  of  fome  general  ideas  of  grammar,  I  have  had  no 
great  difiiculty  to  remedy. — In  the  fpeUing  of  words,  Johnfon 
has  adopted  the  method  prevalent  among  aU  fenfible  people,  and 
configned  the  orthographic  difputes  to  thofe,  who,  from  want  of 
more  important  knowledge,  have  no  other  means  of  obtaining 
reputation.     For  my  part,  I  faw  no  reafon  for  differing  from 

Johnfon  on  this  head The  proper"  accentuation  is,  in  the 

Englifti  language,  one  of  the  moft  difficult  points.  The  caufes 
of  this  difficulty  muft  be  obvix)us  from  the  remarks  upon  the 
accent,  which  I  have  premifed  in  the  fecond  EflUy.  The  great- 
er number  of  Englifli  Diftionaries,  therefore,  have  confidered 
it  as  necefi!ary,  to  mark  that  fyUable,  which  is  accentuated  in 
a  word.  Neverthelefs,  they  have  committed  the  common  er- 
ror, that  the  reader  is  never  certain,  whether  an  accentuated 
iyllable  muft  be  pronounced  with  the  grave  i.  e.  extended,  or 
fjcute,  i.  e,  ftiort  tone  of  the  voice  j  for  inftance,  blood  and  room , 

are 


'    ESSAYS,    BY   ADELUNG.  cxxv 

are  marked  with , the  fame  accent ;  though  the  former  be  pro- 
nounced ihort,  and  the  latter  long.  In  this  matter  I  have  fol- 
lowed Johnfon,  nearly  as  far  as  the  middle  of  the  letter  A  ; 
but  as  the  true  pronunciation  is  thus  very  imperfeftly  mark- 
ed ;  and  as  I  was  fuccefsful  enough  to  difcoyer  this  common 
error,  I  began  very  early  to  differ  from  him  and  his  colleagues  ; 
and,  confequently,  from  the  middle  of  the  firil  letter,  I  have 
endeavoured  to  diftinguifti  carefully  the  length  of  an  accentu- 
ated fy liable  by  a  mark  drawn  from  the  left  towards  the 
right,  and  the  Jhortnefs  of  it  by  a  mark  running  from  the 
right  towards  the  left In  the  remaining  part  of  grammati- 
cal determinations  of  words,  I  have  followed  Johnfon  as  my 
guide,  and  carefully  diftinguiflied  the  neuter  from  the  a£live 
form  of  verbs :  though,  in  a  few  inftances,- 1  have  been  in- 
duced to  differ  from  him,  when  he  had  millaken  the  neutral 
life  of  an  aftive  verb  for  a  neuter  verb. 

IV.  The  proximate  derivation  of  a  word  Is  a  matter  of  Im- 
portance in  all  languages  ;  for  upon  this  circumftance  depends 
not  only  the  full  idea  or  intelligibility  of  words,  but  likewife 
their  orthography.  Johnfon  has  feniibly  perceived  this  dif- 
ficulty, and  confequently  has  Ihortly  pointed  out  the  immediate 
derivatives,  "  in  cafes  where  he  was  acquainted  with  them  ;'* 
and  I  muft  add,  *'  that  he  has  done  it  in  fuch  a  manner  as  ap-' 
pearcd  to  him  the  moft  proper."  For,  upon  this  particular 
head,  his  Diftionary  is  very  defe£tive.  When  an  Englifh  word 
is  derived  from  the  French  or  Latin,  he  does  not  ealily  mii- 
take  its  proximate  root :  in  words,  that  are  obvious  deriva- 
tives of  familiar  Anglo-Saxon  terfns,  he  is  equally  fuccefsful. 
But  in  mofl  other  cafes,  he  proves  himfelf  a  Ihallow  etymo- 
logift :  and  as  his  own  notions  of  the  origin  of  languages  were 
not  very  clear,  he  is  frequently  led  into  great  efrors.  Thus 
he  confiders  the  words,  with  whofe  origin  he  is  unacquainted, 
cither  as  fortuitous  and  cant  wordsy  or  he  derives  them  fre- 
quently in  the  abfurdefl  manner  from  words  nearly  corief- 
ponding  in  found,'  while  he  aims  at  explaining  them  in  three 
or  four  different  ways  ;  for  inftance,  "  to  chirps''  derived  from, 
**  to  chear  up,  to  make  cheerful.  Sec."  yet  this  word  obviouf- 
ly  comes  from  the  vernacular  German,  tfchirpen  or  zirpen^ 
**  to  twitter  like  birds."  This  may  ferve  as  a  fpecimen  of  the 
manner,  in  which  he  fearches  for  the  fource  of  one  river  in 
the  mouth  of  another,  which  is  altogether  different  from  the 
fornjer.  Here  I  have  had  frequent  opportunities  of  corre£ling 

q  him; 


cxxvi       THREE   FHILaLOGICAt 

him  ;  particularly  as  SkiKNEr  was  his  principal  hero  in  etf- 
iflology,  and  as  Johnfon  himfelf  was  unacquainted  with 
the  German  and  ether  languages  related  to  it.  ~  But  in  cafes, 
where  the  derivation  of  a  word  required  laborious  refearches^ 
fuch  as  would  have  occupied  much  rodm  to  little  purpofe,  I 
liave  rather  pafled  it  over  altogether,  becaufe  the  like  words 
t»re  generally  confidered  as  radicals,  or  as  proper  names.  And 
{IS  the  objedl  exprefFed  by  a  word  of  this  kind  mull  be  repre- 
fented  by  a  fefifible  exhibition  of ;  the  thing  itfelf,  the  method 
of  rendering  it  intelligible,  by  a  probable  derivation,  is  but  at 
negative  advantage  ;  though  the  etymology  of  it  might  be  ef- 
tablifhed  by  a  far-fetched  analogy  with  other  words. 

Upon  this  occafion,  I  cannot  omit  mentioning  a  ciicum- 
flance  of  fome  importance  tothe  philofophic  inquirer  into  the 
llrufture  of  languages.  There  are,  in  Englilh,  as  well  as  in 
all  other  languages,  a  great  number  of  words^,  which  are  pro^ 
nounced  and  written  perfeftly  analogous  to  one  another  ;  al- 
though it  can  be  pi-oved,  that  they  are  derived  from  very  dif- 
ferent roots.  Such  are,  for  inftance,  the  German  words,  Bar^ 
Bock,  Hundi  Katze,  &c.  and  the  Englifh  words,  "arm,  buxom, 
cock,  &:c."  To  confider  words  of  the  fame  found  as  of  com- 
mon origin,  and  to  treat  them  as  fuch,  difcovers  a  very  fuper- 
ficial  knowledge  in  languages  :  belides,  this  method  is  attend- 
ed with  the  fmgular  efFe£l  of  mifleading  the  ignorant,  who" 
form  the  ftrangefl  combinations  of  ideas,  when  they  attempt 
to  derive  the  different  fignifications  and  applications  of  a  word 
from  one  common  root.  Johnfon  was  aw'^re  of  this  impro- 
priety, but  he  has  not  alwa^-s  been  fuccefsful  enough  in  ob- 
viating it.  Hence  we  frequently  meet  with  fuch  a  number  of 
iignifications  crowded  upon  the  fame  word,  that  it  is  a  matter  of 
aii:onill)ment,  how  they  happened  to  meet  under  the  fame 
head.  For  this  reafon,  I  have  fcparated  the  different  fignifica- 
tions of  monotonous  words  by  means  of  numbers,  and  have 
endeavoured  to  fliow  the  derivation  of  each,  when  I  was  ena- 
bled to  do  this  in  a  fatisfaftory  manner. 

V.  To  afcertain  the  principal  and  peculiar  fignification  of 
a  word,  from  which  the  others,  if  there  be  any,  muft  be  de- 
rived, has  been  my  next  employment.  This,  indeed,  is  al- 
ways the  moih  difficult  point  in  a  Didlionary  ;  a  point,  which 
not  only  prefuppofes  correct  ideas  of  the  origin  of  languages, 
bu^  alfo  the  molt  precife  knowledge  of  every  Avord,  and  of  its 
life  from  the  earlieil  peiidds.     The  whole  of  this  knowledge 

muft 


ESSAYS,    BY     ADELUNG.       cxxvii 

ua-uft  be  founded  upon  a  fufficient  number  of  works,  written 
bj  men  who  lived  in  the  difFerent  ages,  in  which  the  language 
was  fpoken.  But  as  we  poflefs  no  fuch  numl>er  of  works  i\\ 
any  language,  as  is  jTufficient  to  make  us  acquainted  with  all 
the  words,  that  are  or  have'  been  current  in  it  j  it  may  be 
cafily  conjeftured,  that  the  primitive  fignification  of  every 
word  cannot  be  pointed  out  with  precilion,  Bi^t  even  in  caies 
where  this  is  poffible,  it  requires  the  mod  careful"  exam inar 
tion  of  all  the  ancient  monuments  of  a  language,  that  are  ftQl 
preferved,,  together  with  much  found  philofophy,  in  order  to 
avoid  falling  into  dreams  and  fancies,  and  deriving,  in  an  arbi- 
trary manner,  the  words  from  one  another.  In  etymology,  as 
foon  as  it  carried  him  beyond  the  proximate  derivation  of  a 
word,  my  predeceffor  has  not  been  very  fuccefsful.  For,  even 
in  the  latter  cafe,  he  relied  too  much  upon  the  authority  of 
others  ;  and  it  evidently  appears  from  his  Dictionary,  that  the  . 
fl:ru£ture  of  language  did  not  induce  him  to  philofophical  in- 
quiries. On  this  account,  we  can  form  no  great  expe£lations, 
and  we  mull  be  fatisfied  with  his  claffification  of  the  different 
meanings  of  words,  fp  as  they  in  every  jnftance  appeared  to 
him  mod  proper.  His  want  of  knowledge  in  etymology^ 
however,  is  attended  with  this  advantage,  that  it  has  guarded 
him  againft  a  thoufand  follies,  to  which  the  pfeudo-elymolo- 
gifls,  of  all  languages  and  climates,  are  very  liable. 

As  a  foreigner,  I  could  not  cafily  remedy  this  deficiency  in 
the  claffification  of  words,  unlefs  it  had  been  my  inclination  to 
proceed  upon  arbitrary  principles,  which  ought  not  to  be  in- 
troduced into  the  philoipphy  of  language.  Yet  I  have  corT 
refted  another,  perhaps  more  important,  error.  Johnfon  is 
uncommonly  liberal  with  a  variety  of  fignifications,  particu- 
larly in  fuch  words  as  are  frequently  ufe^i  j  for  in  thefe,  the 
fignifications  pointed  out  by  hinif  are  almoil  endlefs.  Thus  he 
has  given  feventy  different  fignifications  of  the  verb,  to  go  j 
Jixty-nine  of  the  verb,  tqjiand ;  &.c.  and  he  might,  without 
great  difficulty,  have  produced  the  double  of  that  number,  if 
he  had  proceeded  upon  a  fimilar  plan. — In  thefe  verbs,  as  well 
as  in  many  hundred  other  cafes,  Johnfon  has  obvioufly  and 
uniformly  confounded  the  various  applications  of  one  and  the 
fame  meaning,  with  the  different  fignifications  themfelves. 
Hence  I  found  it  neceffaiy,  to  reduce  many  of  his  fignifica-- 
tions  to  pne  general  idea,  and  thus  to  fave  the  reader  the 
trouble  ofi"earching  for  the  accurate  idea  of  the  word  in  que{r 


cxxviu      THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

tion  among  a  number  of  fimllar  ideas,  and  of  frequently  mli's- 
ing  the  true  meaning  of  the  word  altogether.  In  order  to 
perceive  this  inconvenience,  I  requell  the  reader  to  compare 
with  one  another  the  VfovAs^  ground j  form y  and  many  others  of 
a  fimilar  tendency.- 

It  is  a  very  common  praftice  among  the  compilers  of  Dic- 
tionaries, to  point  out  the  fignification  of  a  word,  by  means  of  a 
fy  nonymous  expreflion  ufed  in  another  language.  A  fmall  Ihare 
of  correal  philological  knowledge  muft  convince  every  one  of 
the  impropriety  and  difad vantage  of  this  praftice.  There  arc  no 
words  completely  fynonymous  in  any  language  ;  nor  can  any 
two  words,  from  different  languages,  be  confidered  as  fynony- 
mous. And  although  in  languages,  that  bear  flrong  marks  of 
affinity  to  one  another,  there  Ihould  be  two  words  of  common 
origin,  or  even  radically  the  fiame,  fuch  as  '*  ground'^'  with 
the  German  Grund ;  **  to  go,"  with  the  German  gehen ;  they 
flill  deviate  in  the  indire£l  fignifications,  or,  at  leaft,  in  the  ap-. 
plication  to  individual  cafes.  The  fafeft  and  mofl  rational  me- 
thod, therefore,  is  to  refolve  every  fignification  into  other 
words,  or  to  f^ire  a  clear  and,  if  poffible,  concife  definition  of 
it.  I  am  fenfible,  that  in  this  manner  the  idea  of  a  word  can- 
not be  exhauftcd,  nor  is  it  poffible  to  point  out  this  idea  with 
all  its  ihades  and  fubtle  modifications.  I  further  admit,  that 
this  developement  of  the  idea  is  not  in  all  inftances  pradlicable  ; 
fince  the  meaning  of  a  word,  in  many  cafes,  is  fo  obfcure  that 
it  cannot  be  made  perfpicuous.  Yet,  at  the  fame  time,  where 
this  expedient  is  applicable,  it  affords  the  moft  certain  method 
of  exhibiting  a  competent  notion  of  every  word  and  its  figni- 
fications ;  while  it  ferves  to  promote  a  clear  aud  jufl  know- 
ledge of  things  in  general.  This,  therefore,  is  one  of  the  moll 
important  advantages  of  Johnfon's  Di£tionary  :  for  the  author 
poflcffed  a  very  happy  talent  of  difplaying  the  idea  of  a  word 
in  a  concife,  intelligible,  and  pertinent  manner.  In  this  refpeft, 
I  have  throughout  followed  him  as  my  guide,  except  where  I 
was  obliged  to  contradl  the  fignifications  of  words,  which  he 
had  unnecelTarily  accumulated,  and  confequently  to  fearch  for 
an  appropriate  and  more  comprehenfive  idea. 

Johnfon  has  not  avoided  the  common  error  of  lexicograph- 
ers, who  have  either  negledled  to  ftate  the  names  of  plants  and 
animals,  or  have  done  it  in  a  very  vague  and  undetermined 
manner.  He  commonly  difmiffes  the  names  of  vegetables  with 
the  addition,  «  a  ^lant,''^     Thus  he  forfakes  the  reader,  where 


ESSAYS,    BY    ADELUNG        cxxlx 

51  guide  is  mod  anxloufly  looked  for.  I  have  endeavoured  to 
fupplj  this  deiiciency,  by  adding  a  nuntiber  of  names  from  the 
three  kingdoms  of  nature,  together  with  the  fyllematic  name 
of  Linnaeus,  to  every  plant,  in  order  to  prevent  any  miftakes. 
As  the  Germans,  according  to  the  different  provinces,  make  ufe 
of  a  variety  of  names  for  one  and  the  fame  plant,  the  addition  of 
the  Linnaean  name  v/as  indifpenfable.  It  is  now  to  be  hoped, 
that  none  of  their  numerous  tranilators  from  the  Englilh, 
willj  in  future,  be  induced  to  tranflate  the  word"  pine-apple,'* 
ananas,  by  the  German  exprelTions  "  'Tanntaapjen,  or  Fich' 
/£';za/>/a/,*' '  which  fignify  the  refpeftive  produftions  of  the  fir- 
and  pine-trees  ;  Abies^  and  Pinus  Lin.  ;  while  the  pine-apple 
is  the  produce  cf  the  Bromelia  Ananas  Lin.  Such  miftakes 
have  been  frequently  committed  in  German  books  on  garden- 
ing ;  and,  in  the  imperfett  ftate  of  the  Englilh-German  Dic- 
tionaries hitherto  publiflied,  it  was  not  an  eafy  matter  to 
avoid  them. 

VI.  In  order  to  fupply  the  imperfeft  definitions  of  words, 
the  lignification  of  which  cannot  be  fully  coUefted  from  the 
notion  contained  in  the  definition,  it  is  a  neceflary  point  in  a 
Dictionary,  to  illuftrate  them  by  examples.  From  thefe  il- 
luftrations,  this  additional  advantage  refults,  that  the  gramma- 
tical ufe  of  a  word,  and  its  combination  with  other  parts  of 
fpeech,  can  be  rendered  moie  confpicuous.  Johnfon  is  very 
liberal  with  his  examples,  and  not  'unfrequently  prod'gal  to 
excefs.  The  greater  number  qf  them,  he  has  extracted  from 
poetical  works,  as  he  had  employed  much  of  his  time  in  pub- 
li/hing  the  Engliih  poets.  \  have  made  it  my  ftudy,  to  hold  a 
middle  courfe,  and  to  feleft  from  the  rich  ftore  of  Johnfon's 
examples  the  moft  concife  and  pertinent,  efpecially  in  fuch 
cafes  as  appeared  to  require  an  example,  to  ihow  the  precife 
meaning  or  the  grammatical  ufe  of  a  word.  As,  however,  his 
examples  and  the  whole  ftock  of  hisj  words  principally  relate 
to  the  language  of  authors  or  "  written  language ;"  I  have 
endeavoured  to  fupply  the  obvious  want  of  examples  for  the 
purpofes  of  fv>cial  life,  from  the  above  quoted  Engliflj  and 
French  Dictionary,  by  Boyer  ;  a  work,  the  phrafes  and  ex- 
cmplificatio|:is  of  which  are  principallv  of  the  latter  kind. 

VII.  Concerning  the  pra6lical  application  of  words,  when 
in  connexion  with  others,  Johnfon  has  beftowed  great  atten- 
tion upon  the  moft  important  cafes^  in  which  every  word  may 
pccur.     His  accuracy  in  this  refped  has  induced  me  to  adop: 

'    r  hits 


bxxx        THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

tis  examples,  without  attempting  to  change  or  improve  them. 
To  conclude  this  account,  I  fhall  add  fome  remarks,  which 
exclufively  concern  the  publication  of  my  own  Diftionary. — 
It  is  a  common  error  of  the  raoft,  if  not  of  all.  Dictionaries 
which  appear  with  German  explanations,  that  the  authors  of 
them  not  only  pay  no  attention  whatever  to  the  propriety  and 
dignity  af  the  Getman  expreffions  and  phrafes,  but  likewife 
that  they  are  very  lludious  to  find  the  mofl  abfurd  and  vulgar 
words  in  the  German,  and  to  make  ufe  of  them  for  the  illuf- 
tration  of  foreign  words ;  though  the  latter  fhould  not  hold 
out  the  leafl  inducement  to  this  outrage.  The  injury  thus  oc- 
calioned  to  inexperienced  ftudents  of  languages,  who  mofl  fre- 
quently fland  in  n^ed  of  fuch  books,  is  much  greater  than  is 
commonly  imagined ;  becaufe  their  tafte  or  intelleftual  dif- 
cernment  is  thereby  for  ever  depraved.  And  what  mull  be 
tlie  ideas  of  foreign.ers,  refpe£ling  the  German  (as  they  can- 
not avoid  making  ufe  of  fuch  books),  when  they  difcover  in 
them  the  eflence  of  all  that  is  obfcene  and  vulgar,  inftead  of  the 
more  polifhed  language  of  authors  ?  'What  mull  an  Englith- 
^an  think  of  us,  when  he  finds  in  eur  Englilh  German  Didlio- 
oaries,  **  gormandizer"  tranflated  Saumagen  ;  -*'  to  gorman- 
dize," e:;i  Saumagen  Jeyn  y  *'  gangrel,"  ein  groffe  lange  Strun%e, 
Similar  indecencies  occur  in  every  page.  A  fmall  degree  of 
common  fenfe  would  have  prevented  the  infertion  of  this  tralh 
into  our  Di«9;Ionaries,  while  it  would  have  taught  the  com- 
pilers, to  render  the  expreflion  with  becoming  dignity.  I  have 
exerted  myfelf  to  iliun  the  like  inelegant  terms  and  phrafes, 
even  in  thofe  cafes  where  the  Englilh  word  might  have  afford- 
ed an  opportunity  of  lifing  them  ;  for  I  have  rather  fubmitted 
to  the  tafk  of  circumlocution,  than  tp  the  propagation  of  mean 
and  indecent  wojds. 

There  is  another  remark  to  be  made,  relative  to  the  ortho- 
graphy of  the  Englifh.  Johnfon  ha§  given  a  feparate  analyfis 
of  every  compound  word,  after  having  firft  printed  the  words 
in  a  combined  Hate.  In  order  to  fave  room  and  trouble,  I 
have  thought  proper  to  point  out  the  compound  words  imme- 
diately in  the  order  of  the  alphabet.  For  thispurpofe  1  have 
attnoll  throughout  the  whole  (for  in  fome  inflances  I  may  have 
overlooked  it)  divided  fuch  words  in  tUe  fpelling,  as  "  hope- 

lef«, 


ESSAYS,   BY  ADELlfNG.         cxix? 

lefs,  black-fmith,  &c.  though  thefe  words  (hoiUd  be  read  and 
confidered  as  infeparable  *. 

The  following  Extraft  fronr  a  Critical  Effay  originally  pubiifted  in  the  Edin-' 
burgh  Review  for  1755,  will,  it  is  hoped,  be  acceptable  to  the  reader ;  as  the  ideas 
contained  in  it  very  nearly  coincide  with  thofe  advanced  by  Mr.  Adeluno  ;  ana 
»»  it  is  now  underftood  to  be  the  prodiKftion  of  the  celetwated  Dr.  Adam  Smith. 

*  A  Didionary  of  the  Englilh  language,  however  ufeful,  or 
rather  n^ceffary,  has  never  been  hitherto  attempted  with  the 
leaft  degree  of  fuccefs.  To  explain  hard  words  and  terms  of 
art,  feems  to  have  been  the  chief  purpofe  of  all  the  former 
eompofitions,  which  have  borne  the  title  of  Englifh  diftionaries. 
Mr  Johnfon  has  extended  his  views  much  farther,  and  has 
made  a  very  full  colledlion  of  all  the  different  meanings  of 
each  Englifli  word,  juftified  by  examples  from  authors  of  good 
reputation.  When  we  compare  this  book  with  other  die-* 
tionaries,  the  merit  of  its  author  appears  very  extraordinary. 
Thofe  which  in  modern  languages  have  gained  the  moft  efteem, 
are  that  of  the  French  academy,  and  tliat  of  the  academy 
Delia  Crufca.  Both  thefe  were  compofed  by  a  numerous  fo- 
ciety  of  learned  men,  and  tooK.  up  a  longer  time  in  the  com- 
pofitioii,  than  the  life  of  a  lingle  perfon  could  well  have  af- 
forded. The  Di<^ionary  of  the  Englifh  language  is  the  work 
of  a  fingle  perfon,  and  compofed  in  a  period  of  time  very  in- 
confiderable,  when  compared  with  the  extent  of  the  work. 
The  coUeftion  of  words  appears  to  be  very  accurate,  and  mufl 
be  allowed  to  be  very  ample.  Mofl  words,  we  belkve,  are 
to  be  found  in  the  Di6Vionary,  that  ever  were  almoft  fufpecled 
to  be  Engliili  ;  but  we  cannot  help  wilWng,  that  the  author 
had  trufted  lefs  to  the  judgment  of  thofe  who  may  confult  him, 
and  had  oftener  pafled  his  own  cenfure  upon  thofe  words 
which  arc  not  of  approved  ufe,  though  fometimcs  to  be  met 

with 


*  This  method  of  pointing  out  compounded  words  is  profeiSsdly 
contrived  to  favc  room  and  the  repetition  of  words  ;  yet,  at  the 
fame  time,  it  is  unavoidably  attended  with  this  difad vantage,  that 
it  may  induce  foreigners,  to  confider  a//  thofe  words,  which  are 
printed  with  a  fign  of  divifion,  as  feparable  compounds. — Mr. 
Adelung  might  have  eafily  obviated  this  inconvenience,  by  ufing 
different  marks  of  feparation  for  thofe  compounds,  the  parts  of 
which  are  written  fep^ately,  as  "  party-man  j"  and  for  thofe,  that 
ate  contraded  into  one  word,  as  **  %itc-ful.'* 


cxxxli      THREE    PHILOLOGICAL 

-with  in  authors  of  no  naean  name. — ^Where  a  work  is  ad- 
mitted to  be  highly  ufeful,  and  the  execution  of  it  i.ititled  to 
praife  ;  the  adding,  that  it  might  have  been  more  nietul,  c aii 
fcarcely,  we  hope,  be  deemed  a  cenfiire  of  it.  The  meiit  ct 
this  Difticnary  is  fo  great,  that  it  cannot  detract  from  it,  to 
take  notice  of  fome  defefts,  the  fupplying  which,  would,  in 
our  judgment,  add  a  coniiderable  Ihare  of  merit  to  that  which 
it  already  poflefies.  Thefe  defefts  confift  chiefly  in  the  plan, 
tvhich  appears  to  us  not  to  be  fufficiently  grammatical.  The 
different  fignifications  of  %  word  are  indeed  colleded  ;  but 
they  are  feldom  digefted  into  feveral  claffes,  or  langed  under 
the  meaning  which  the  word  principally  expreiTes  ;  and  fuf- 
ficient  care  has  not  been  taken  to  dillinguilh  the  words  appar- 
ently fynonymous.* 

*  It  can  import  no  refleftion  upon  Mr.  Johnfon's  Dictionary, 
that  the  fubje£l  has  been  viewed  in  a  different  light  by  others  ; 
and  it  is;  at  leaft  a  matter  of  curioiity  to  confider  the  different 
views,  in  which  it  appears  .  Any  man  who  is  about  to  com- 
pofe  a  diftionary,  or  rather  a  grammar  of  the  Englifti  lan- 
guage, muff  acknowledge  himfelf  indebted  to  Mr.  J.  for  a- 
bridging  at  leaft  one  half  of  his  labour.  All  thofe  who  are 
imder  any  difficulty,  with  refpeft  to  a:  particular  word  of 
phrafe,  are  in  the  fame  fituation.  The  DiSionary  prefents 
them  a  full  colleftion  of  examples  ;  from  whence  indeed  they 
are  left  to  determine ;  but  by  which  the  determination  is 
rendered  eafy.  In  this  country  *,  the  ufefulnefs  of  it  will  be' 
foon  felt,  as  there  is  no  Itandard  of  correal  language  in  con- 
verfation.  If  our  recommendation  could  in  any  degree  incite 
to  the  perufal  of  it,  we  would  earneftly  recomrtiend  it  to  all 
thofe  who  are  defirous  to  improve  and  correct  their  language, 
frequently  to  confult  the  Diftionary.  Its  merits  muft  be  de- 
termined by  the  frequent  refort,  that  is  had  to  it.  ,  This  is  the 
moft  unerring  teft  of  its  value  :  criticifmtf  may  be  falfe,  pri- 
vate judgments  ill-founded ;  but  if  a  work  of  this  nature  btf 
tnuch  in  ufe,  it  has  received  the  fandion  of  the  public  ap-. 
frobatioB,' 

*  Scotland,' 


t  I  N  I  S. 


SPECIMEN 


IDENTICAL    DICTIONARY 


German,  English,  French,  and  Latin  Languages. 

Note.  All  thofe  compounded  words,  which  are   eqfily  explained  from 

their  conjlituent  parts,  are  here  purpojely  omitted T^he  vocables  firji 

Jlatedy  after  the  Germany  exprefs  the  mofl  literal  fenfe. — Subjianti'ves, 
without  a  number  referring  to  the  declenfiony  are  indeclinable  \  the  num- 
bers mark  the  five  German  declenfions Further y  the  ajlerijh  (*)  points 

out  thofe  fnbjlantivesy  which  change  their  firft  vowel  into  a  diphthong, 
when  ufed  in  the  plural  number  ;— a.  ^.Jlands  for  adverbial  adjeBive  ;— 
adj  /or  adjeBive \ — adv. /or  adverb  ;—conj. /or  conjunBion  ; — obj. /or 
objeBivelyy  or  in  a  phyfical fenfi  ;—i}jih].forftbjeBivelyy  or  in  a  mental 
fenfe  ;— s.  Lforfubjiantive  feminine  ; — s.  m.  for  fubjlantive  mafculine  ; 

s.  n.  for  fubjlantive  neuter  \ — v.  a.  r./or  verb  aBive,  regular  } — ir. 

for  irregular — v.  n.  for  verb  neuter  5 — vulg./or  vulgarly,  or  in  low 
life. 


German. 

Aal,  s.  m.  i, 

Acs  *,  s.  n.  5. 

Ab,  fyll  of  compounds. 

Ab'diiderlich,  a. a. 

Ab'dndern,  v.  a   r, 

Ab'dnJerung,  t.  f.  3. 
Abarheiten,  v.  a.  r. 

{fich)  recipr, 


Aharten,  v.  n.  r. 
Abartung,  S.  f.  3. 
Abbeijfai,  V.  a.  ir. 

Abbejltllen ,  V.  a.  r. 
Abbiiden,  v.  a.  r. 

Aibildung.  8.  f.  3. 


English. 

eel 

carrion,  carcafs 
down,  from,  off 
variable,  changeable 
to  vary,  change,  fhift 

alteration,  variation 
to  work  or  labour  for 

to  fatigue,  or    wear 

onefelf  out  by  labour 

to  degenerate 

degeneration 

to  bite  off  or  from 

to  countermand 

to  fafliion  or  portray 

formation,  pivSlurc 


\  Feench. 

anguille. 

charogne,  cadavre 

de.  du,  &c. 

variable 

varier,  changer,  cor- 

riger 
alteration,  variation  , 
travailler  a  compte  de 
cequ'ona  regud'avance 
cpuifer  I'es  forces  par 

le  travail 
degenerer,  forligner 
degeneration 
mordre,  arracher  avec 

les  dents 
contremander 
reprefenter,  tirer  d'a- 

pres  nature 
■image,  portrait. 


Latin. 

anguilla. 

cadaver. 

de 

varians,  mutabilis 

mutare,  immutarc 

mutatio,  immutatio 
aliquid  labore  compen- 

fare 
laboribus  frangi 

dcgenerare,  depravari 
degeneratio,  depravati* 
demordere 

renunciare,  adimere. 
jeffingere,  exprimere     ■ 

Iforraatio,  cffiAio 


GtHUAlt. 

^bhinden,V.  a.  ir. 
Abbitu,  s.  f.  (Crg.only) 

^iiitfen,  V.  n.  IT. 

AbborgeHy  V,  n.  r. 
Ahbruhen^  V.  a.  ir. 


( 
to  untie  or  unloofe       'delier,  detacher 
excufe,  apology,  excufe,  apologie 

to  beg  pardon,  or  to      demander  pardon 

apologize, 
to  borrow.  'emprunter 

to  break  off  'rompre 

to  pull  down  iabattre,  demolir 

to  ftopfliort,in  fpcakingis'arr^er,  paufer 


—  (Jtcb)  recipr. 
&ir. 


Ahhrennen,-<l.'3i.T. 
•  V.  n. 


Abbrucb  ^.4.  (fing.only  ) 


to  dctraft,  leffen. 
to  abftain  from. 

to  burn  down,  or  out 
to  confume  by  fire 


tdeduirc,  rabattre 
Is'abftenir  de  qq.  ch. 

reduire  en  cendre 
j'confumer  par  le  feu 


Abbriiehigf  a.  a. 
Abbujfen,v.  a.  r. 
Abdanken^  V.  a.  r. 

Ahdankung,^  S.  f.  3. 

Ahdecken,  V.  a    r. 

Abduker,  5  m.  1. 
vulg.  Scbinder. 
Abdickung,  s.  f.  3. 
AbiUngen.  v.  n.  r. 
Abdringen,  V.  a.  ir.  or 
VxHi^^dt  ucksn  (fubj.) 
Abdruck  *  s.  m.  a. 
Abdrucken,\.  a.  r, 

AbdrijcketifV.  a.  r.(obj.) 


Abend.,  S.  m.  2. 
Abtnibeuer,  8.  n.  I.       "} 
or  Ebentf^er,    —      C 
Ahintbmrer,  s.  m,  I.       adventurer 


to  give  over  burning    'celTer  de  bruler 

ft)  difcharge  a  gun        itirer  un  canon  ou  un 

j     fufil 
detraftion  ^rabais 

diminution,  detriment  diminution,  detriment 
lofs,  damage  perte,  domraagc 

derogatory  derogatoire 

to  expiate,  or  atone  for  expier 
to  fay  thanks  or  grace  'remercier 
to  difcharge  jcongedier 

j'ifcharge,  difmiffal        .conge,  demiflion 
refignation,  abdication  jrefignation,  abdication 
to  uncover  (the  roof)  jd^couvrir 
to  ftrip  off  (the  flcin)  lecorcher 
the  ikinner  lecorcheur 

the  hangman  (in  office)' bourreau 
uncovering,  denudation!  denuement 
to  dedu\5l  in  bargaining  defelquer 

to  extort  [extorquar 

a  copy,  impreffion         Icopie,  empreinte 
to  imprint,  or  to  take  imprimer,tirer  copie 

a  copy 
to  let  down  the  cock     preffer,  feparer  a  force 

of  a  fire-lock 
the  evenmg  foir,  foirce 

adventure 


lATJt^/ 


[but,  }'et,  however 
jfuperftition 


A  lev,  conj.    — 
Aherglauhi.,  S.  m.  3 
(fmg.  only) 
Abergl'dubifcb,   or        ")  L  „.  . 

Aboglaubig.^.^        jifuperftmotis 
Aberkeantn,  V.  2u  r  Si. 


Abermal,  or  Abtr- 

tnals,  adv. 
Abfrmalig,  a  a. 
Aberivitz,  s.  m.  2. 

(Crg.  only) 
Arrrii)itzig,  a.  a. 

— ajv. 


jto  judge,  pafs  fentence 
upon 

lonce  again,  anew 

'repeated 

idotage,  delirium 

jdiftradled,  infane 
Idiftradedly,  foolifhly 


aventure 
aventuricr 

mais,  pourtant,  or 
fuperftition 

fuperflltieux 
juger,  decretcr 

encore,  de  nouveau 

nouveau,  autre 

folic,  delire  » 

devenu  fon 
comme  xin  fott 


folvere,  refolvere. 
deprecatio.  ignofcendi 

poftulatio. 
deprecari,  veniam  pe- 

tere. 
mutuari. 

carpere,  decerperc. 
diruere  demolirL 
abrumpere  fermonem. 
detrahere  (de  pretio  ) 
abitinere,  fefe  conti- 

nere. 
urere,  comburere. 
deflagrare,  conflagrar© 

fiammis. 
definere  ardere. 
itormcntum  vi  pulveri» 

igniferi  mittere. 
defradum  decerptio, 
deminutio.detrimentuiH 
jatftura,  damnum, 
derogans. 
lucre. 

gratias  agere. 
dimittere. 
miilio,  dimiflio. 
abdicatio  munerig. 
detegere  (domum). 
pellem  detrahere. 
pellium  detrador. 
carnifex,  tortor. 
detedio  nudatio. 
deti  ahere  pi  etio. 

exprimere,  extorqaer* 

exemplar,  impreflio,     • 
typis  exfcribere. 

premendo  avellerc, 

folvere. 
vefpera. 

eventura,  portentum; 

qui  tentat  et  periclita' 

tur  fortunam, 
aft,  ad,  fed,  veid,  &* 
fuperftitio,  falfa 

religio. 

fuperftitiofus. 
abjudicare. 

iterum,  rurfus,  denuo  ^ 

iteratus. 

amentia,  delirium. 

amens,  delirus 
dtmenter,iuor  e  deU- 
rantis. 


CONTENTS. 


f  •■■— 


ESSAY  FIRST. 

A  concife  hijiory  -of  the  Englijh  languAge^  its  changes ^      PAGE 

and  gradual  iThpro'OemeHty  -  -  v 

I.  Britifh-Saxon  Period^  -  -  '  -  vi 

II.  Daniih.Saxon  period,         -  -  a^  iX 

III.  Normannic-Saxon  Period  j  or  Normannic  Anglo- 

Saxon,  -  -  -  XX 

IV.  French-Saxon,  or  Englifli  period,  -  xxix 
Divilionfirft  :  fronx  1272  to  1399  :  or  from  Edward 

I.  to  Henry  IV.  -  -  -  xxxi 

Divifion   fecond :    from   1399    to    1485;    or  from 

Henry  IV.  to  Henry  VII.  -  *     xlviii 

Divilion  third  :  from  1485  to  1558;  or  from  Henry 

Vll.  to  the  end  of  Q^Mary.  -  Iviii 

Divifion  fourth :  from  1558  to  1625  >  o^  during  the 

reigns  of  Q.  Elizabeth  and  K.  James  I.  -  Ixviii 
Concluding  general  remarks,  *  -  Ixxxv 


ESSAY   SECOND. 

A  philofophical  view  of  the  Englijh  language  t 

Why  called  philofophical  ?  Ixxxviii.  Of  the  Englifli  Lan- 
guage, Ibid.  Of  the  Englifli  written  Language^  Ixxxix.  Di- 
vifion of  Grammar  Ibid,  Of  the  Englifli  Written  Charafters, 
/i/i/.  Of  the  Anglo-Sakon  Alphabet,  xc.  Of  its  difufe,  ibid. 
Of  angular  written  charadters,  xci.  The  Englifli  write  dif- 
ferently from  what  they  fpeak,  xcii.  Explanation  of  this  phe- 
nomenon, iciii.  Of  orthography,  xciv.  Of  the  ftrufture  of 
words,  ibid.  Definition  of  words  and  fyllables,  ibid.  Divifion 
•of  words   according  to  their  llrufture,    xcv.     Definition   of 

radicals 


CONTENTS. 

radicals,  ibid.  Of  derivatives,  xcvi.  Compound  words,  xcviif . 
Of  the  tone  or  accent  of  words,  xcix.  General  definitions 
of  the  accent,  c.  Diftindion  of  the  accent  as  to  its  force, 
ibid.  Of  the  duration  of  the  accent,  ci.  DiiFerence  between  ex- 
tended and  acute  fjUables  cii.  Of  the  accent  of  radicals,  ciii. 
Of  the  accent  of  derivatives,  ibid.  Of  the  accent  of  compound 
words,  cv.  Reflcftions  upon  words  as  parts  of  fpeech,  ibid. 
Further  refleftions  upon  words,  cvii.  Analjfis  of  the  inflec- 
tions, cviii.  (I.)  Further  refleftions  on  the  fubflantive.  (i.) 
Divifion  of  it,  cix.  (a.)  The  gender  of  fubftantives,  ibid.  (3.) 
Of  the  formation  of  the  Plural,  ex.  (4.)  Of  the  declenfion, 
ibid.  (II.)  Of  the  Article,  cxi.  (III.)  Of  the  AdjeftJve,  cxiii. 
(IV.)  Of  numerical  words,  cxi  v.  (V.)  Of  the  Pronouns, 
cxv.  (VI.)  Of  the  Verb,  cxvii.  (VII.)  Of  the  Particles. 
lzx»   Concluiion,  ibid. 


ESSAY    THIRD. 

On  the  rilative  merits  and  demerits  of  'jfohnfon's  Englijh 

Di£iionary,  -  -  -  -  cxxi 

I.  Concerning  the  number  of  words,  -  cxxii 

II.  ■  the  value  and  dignity  of  words,  cxxiv 

III,  I       the  grammatical  defignation  of  words,     ibid. 

IV.  ■  the  etymology  of  words,  -  cxxv 
V. the  principal  fignlfication  of  words,      cxxvi 

VI.  ■ —  the  illuftration  of  words  by  examples,  cxxix 

VII.         ■    I  the  praftical  applicaton  of  words,  ibid. 

Extraft  from  a  Critical  Effay  ;  by  Dr  Adam  Smith,       cxxxi 


INDEX. 


N      D 


X, 


Referring  to  the  Names,  which  occur  in  thefe  Effays  *, 


Alcock,  John,  58. 

Alfred,  king,  7,  9, 10, 19. 

Anfley,  Brian,  63. 

Arbuthnot,  Alexander,  79. 

Afcham,  Roger.  6j,  68. 

Bacon,  lady  Anne,  83. 

— —  lord  Francis,  85. 

Baldwin,'  William,  6s,  67. 

Bale,  John,  63. 

Ballenden,  John,  63. 

Barbour,  John,  38. 

Barclay,  Alexander,  58. 

Barnfley,  Charles,  63. 

Bafton,  Robert,  36. 

Bede,  Vcner.  7. 

Behn,  Mrs.  84. 

Bercher,  William,  69. 

Berners,  Juliana,  57,  6a 

Bilson,  Thomas,  84. 

Boleyn,  George,  61. 

Borde,  Andrew,  63. 

Bourchier,  John,  64. 

Brighman,  Nicholas,  44. 

Bruce,  Robert,  36,  39. 

Brumpton,  John,  47. 

Brunne:  V.— Robert  de  Enmne,35. 

Bryant,  Sir  Francis,  6a. 

Buckhurft,  Lord,  8». 

Caedmon,  7,  9. 

Campeden,  Hugh,  50. 

Cary,  Henry,  8a. 

Cavyl,  67, 

Caxton,  William,  JSt  60. 

Cecil,  Mildred,  83, 

William,  8a. 

Chapman,  George,  69,  71, 
Charlemagne,  6. 
Chatterton,  5  a. 
Chaucer,  GcofFrcy,40,46^8, 
Cheke,  Sir  John,  64, 68. 
Chertfey,  Andrew,  63. 
Chefler,  Thomas,  50.- 
Churchyard,  Thomas,  67,  70. 
Cook,  Catherine,  83. 
Cox,  Leonard,  74. 
Crowley,  Robert,  65. 
CufiF,  Henry,  8a. 
Culrofc,  63 
Davie,  Adam,  36. 
Devercux,  Robert,  75. 

Doughs,  Gawin,  39, 60, 
Drant,  Thomas,  71,  7». 


Drayton,  a6. 

Dudley,  Robert,  75,  80,  8a.   '•< 
Dunbar,  William,  59. 
Edward  III.  36. 

IV.  51. 

VI.  65. 66. 

Edwards,  Richard,  67. 

Eiham,  Thomas  de,  51. 

Elizabeth,  Queen,  8a. 

Entick,  ia3. 

Fabian,  Robert,  57. 

Fairfax,  Edward,  7a,  75. 

Fane,  Lady  Elizabeth,  66. 

Fenton,  Sir  Geoffrey,  7»,  8a. 

Ferrers,  George,  67. 

Fleming  Abraham,  69,  71,  7a. 

Forreft,  William,  68. 

Galbreith,  63. 

Gafcoigne,  George,  69,  7»,  78,  8c. 

Gaiuit,  John  of,  41. 

Golding,  Arthur,  70,  71. 

Googe,  Bamaby,  69,  71. 

Gowcr,  John,  46, 47. 

Green,  Robert,  81. 
Gray,  Lady  Jane,  66. 
Grimoald,  Nicholas,  63,  78, 
Grofteft,  Robert,  iS- 
Haliwell,  Edward,  6^. 
Hall,  Arthur,  69. 

Jofeph,  79. 

Hampole,  Richard,  36. 
Harding,  John,  jo. 
Harrington,  Sir  James,  7a, 
■    ■  "  Sir  John,  78 
Harvey,  Gabriel,  78, 
Haftings,  Francis,  66.  , 

Hatton,  Lord  Chancellor,  8a. 
Hawes,  Stephen,  j8. 
Henry  I.  a3. 

V.  48. 

'——  the  Minftrel,  55. 

Heywood,  Jafper,  70, 

— -— —  John,  63. 

Higden,  47. 

Holland,  55. 

Holme,  Wilfrid,  63. 

Hooker,  Richard,  75,  84 

Hopkins,  John,  65. 

Howard; Henry,EarlofNorthampt.  8a. 

■  ■  — —  Surrey,  6a,  63. 

— — —  Lady  Mary,  67. 
Humphrey,  Duke  of  Glouc.  51.  66. 
Hunis,  William,  6j. 

Jamec 


In  order  to  lave  room,  and  to  render  the  finding  out  of  the  Names  eafier  t« 
the  reader,  wc  have  reduced  the  Roawu  Nw^sr»  W  thofe  ia  wTom.**  nfc 


INDEX. 


James  of  Scotland,  55. 

VI.       Do.  79. 

Inglis,  Sir  James,  63. 

Ingulf,  Abbot,  19. 

John,  King,  32. 

Johnfon.  Dr.  Sam.  6,  9,  60,  65,  lar. 

Kay,  John,  51. 

Kelton,  66. 

Kendall,  Timothy,  71. 

Kinloch,  63. 

Kinwelmerfh,  Francis,  69. 

Kyd,  63, 

Lcland,  34,41. 

Lilly,  George,  6j. 

John,  80. 

Lindfay,  Sir  David.  63. 
Livius,  Titus,  51. 
Longlande,  Robert,  27' 
Lumley,  Lady  Joanna,  67. 

Lord  John,  64. 

Lydgate,  John,  49,  _j8. 

Maitland,  Sir  Richard,  79. 

Mandeville,  Sir  John,  37,  47. 

Manning,  Robert,  35. 

Margaret,  Coimtefs  of  Richmond,  60. 

Marloe,  Chriftopher,  70.  80. 

Mary,  Queen  of  England,  67. 

Scots,  8a. 

Matthew  of  VVeftminfter,  47. 
Medwall,  Henry,  59. 
Merimuth,  Adam  de,  47. 
Montfort,  Simon  of,  32. 
Montgomery,  Alexander,  79* 
More,  Sir  Thomas,  61,  63. 
Morley,  Lord,  64. 

Nafhc,  Thomas,  80. 
Nevyle,  Alexander,  69. 
Newcaflle,  Dutcheh  of,  84. 
Newce,  Thomas,  69. 
Newton,,Thomas,  70,  71;. 
Norton,  John,  50. 

Thomas,  65. 

Occleve,  49,  56. 
Parker,  Matthew,  65^ 
Parr,  Catherine,  64. 
Peele,  George,  81. 
Pelham,  Sir  John,  54. 
Percy,  Algernon,  60, 
Perkins,  William,  75 
Phayer,  67. 
philips,  Catherine,  84. 
Poulett,  William.  82. 
Poyngz,  Sir  Anthony,  69' 
Puttenham,  74. 
Raleigh,  Sir  Walter,  75.  78, 
RaftaD,  John,  S9, 61. 


Ratcliffc,  Thomas,  75, 
Ripley,  George,  50. 
Robert  de  Brunne,  35. 

of  Gloucefter,  35. 

Rochford,  Vifcount,  6a. 
Rolland,  John,  79. 
Roos,  John,  '62. 
Roper,  Margaret,  64. 

Mary,  66. 

Rowley,  Thomas,  52. 
Ruffel,  Elizabeth,  83. 
Sackville,  Thomas,  67,  79. 
Savillc,  Sir  Henry,  7a. 
Scot,  Alexander,  68. 
Seager,  Francis,  65,  67. 
Shakefpeare,  81. 
Sheffield,  Lord  Edmund,  66. 
Sheridan,  99. 
Sidney,  Mary,  83. 

Sir  Philip,  69,  8r 

Sinclair,  Henry  Earl  of,  60. 
Skelton,  John,  60,  61,  67. 
Skinner,  126. 
Smith,  Nicholas,  69. 

Sir  Thomas,  65,  68. 

Sommerfet,  Duke  of,  66 
Spenfer,  Edmund,  71,  76 
Stafford,  Lord  Henry,  66 
Stanyhurft,  Robert,  70 
Sternhold,  Thomas,  65 
Stewart  of  Lorn,  63 
Studley,  John,  69 
Swynford,  Catherine,  42 
Tiptoft,  John,  56 
Tuberville,  George.  71,  78 

Thomas,  70,  jr 

Tuffcr,  Thomas,  67 

Tye,  Chriftopher,  65 
Twyne,  Thomas,  70 
Vaux,  Lord  Nicholas,  62 
Vere,  Edward.  82 
Underdowne,  Thomas,  69 
Wade,  Lawrence,  59 
Waller,  73 

Walter,  William.  59 
Walton,  John,  48 
lVarton,7,  19,23,27,31 
Whctftone,  George,  72,  80 
Wickes,  Thomas,  47 
W^ickliff,  John  31,  41,46 
Widville,  Anthony,  56 
Wilfon,  Dr.  Thomas,  69,  7a 
W^inton,  Andrew,  55. 
Wyat,  Sir  Thomas,  6a 
Wyttingham,  William,  6s 


CATALOGUE 


CATALOGUE 

Of  References  to  the  original  publications  ^  as  well  as  tranfla^ 
tions  made  into  Englifhy  andfome  remarkable  pajfages. 


Addrefs  to  his  empty  purfe,  by  Chau- 
cer, 43 

Aelian's  various  Hiftory,by  Fleming,  69 

Agamemnon,  by  Studley,  69 

Agricola's Ltife,  by  Saville,  7X 

Amadis  de  Gaule,  8  X 

Arcadia,  by  Sidney,  81 

Ariofto's  Suppofiti,  by  Gafcoigne,  72, 
80 

i  Works  tranflated  by  Harring- 
ton, 72,  78 

Arittotle,  on  the  Ten  Categories,  by 
Googe,  69 

Arraignment  of  Paris,  by  Peelc,  81 

Art  of  Englift  Poelie,  by  Puttenham, 

74 
Art  of  Rhetoric,  by  Wilfon,  74 
Aftrolabe,  by  Chaucer,  45' 
Aftrophel,  by  Spencer,  77 
Bard,  JVilliatn  the  Conqueror's,  10 
Belvidere,  or  the  Garden  of  the  Mufes, 

Boccace,  Vifions  of,  72 
Boethius's  Confolation  of  Philofophy,  by 
Wahon,  48 
■  '  by  C^  Elizabeth, 

8a 
Book  of  Kings,  66 

Caefar's  Commentaries,by  Golding,  71 
Canterbury  Tables,  by  Chaucer,  45 
Caftle  of  Love,  by  Groffe-Tefte,  Z5 
Cebes,  Table  of,  by  Poyngz,  69 
Chrift's    Kirk  on  the  Green,  by  King 

James,  54 
Cicero's  Offices,  by  Grimoald,  72 

Oration  for  Archias,  by  Drant, 

72 
■  Seleft  Epidles  by  Fleming,  27 

Complaint  of  Scotland,  by  Inglis,  63 
Concordance  of  Sins,  by  Fabian,  57 
ConfcfTio  Amantis,  by  Gower,  46 
Confolation  of  Q^  Mary's,  &c  83 
Court  of  Love,  by  Chaucer,  40,  ss 

•    ■  Venus,  by  K.  James,  55 
Pefence  of  Poelie,  by  Sidney,  82 


Dcmofthenes's  Sevcn^Orations,  by  Wjj^ 

fon,  69 
Deftrutftion  of  Troy,  by  Lydgate,  50 
Dido,  Tragedy  of, by  Nafhe,  80 
Difcourle  of  Life   and  Death,  by   lyT. 

Sidney,  83 
F-cclefiaftical  Polity,  by  Hooker,  75 
Edivard  the  Firji,  by  Peele,  81 
Egidius,  on  the  Government  of  Princes, 

by  Occleve,  49 
Ella,  Tragedy  of,  by  Rowley,  $^ 
Englijh  Name  dlfgraced,  22 
England's  Parnafl'us,  78 
Erafmus's  Inftitution,  by  Lumley,  64 
Euphues,  a  Romance,  by  Lilly,  81 
Euripides's  Phcenifiae  orjoca/ta,  by  Gaf- 
coigne and  Kinwelmenh.  69,  80 
Fairy  Queen,  by  Spenfer,  76 
Fall  of  Princes,  by  Lydgate,  50 
Fauftus's,  Dr,  Tragical  Hi;1ory,by  Mar- 

loe,  80 
Froiffart's  Chronicle,  by  Bourchier,  64 
Gammer  Gurton's  Needle,  66 
Glafs  of    Government,  by  Gafcoigne, 

80 
Golden  Epiftles,  by  Fenton,8a 
— —  Tergc,  by  Dunbar,  59 
Gorboduc,  by  Sackville,   79 
Guicciardini's  Hiftory  of  Italy,  by  Fen- 
ton,  72,  82 
Heliodorus's  Hiftory , by  Underdowne,  69 
Hercules  Oeteus,  by  Studley,  69 
Herodian's  Hitlory,  by  Smith,  69 
Hiftory  of  the  World,  by  Raleigh,  75 
Homer's  Iliad,  by  Hall,  69 
Horace's  Art  of  Poetry,  by  Q^'  Eliza- 
beth, 8a 
~— —  Satires,    Epiftle*    and    Art    of 

Poetry,  By  Drant,  71 
Hufbandrie,  five  hundred  points  of 

good ; — by  Tuffer,  67 
Hyppolitus.  by  Studley,  69 
Idiot,  an  epithet  given  to  a  Bijbop,  22 
Jewel's   Apology  for  the  Church  of 
England,  83 

ir«crates 


CATALOGUE. 


Ifocrates,  by  Fleming,  69 
Tuftin's  Hiilory,  by  Golding,  71 
King^  Dayld  and    Fair  Bethfabe,  by 

Peek  81 
King's  Quair,  by  K.  James  I.  54 
Kyng  of  Tars,  33 
Laconic  Advice,  by  Chauetr,  44 
Li/e  of  St.  Margaret,  26 
JLucan's  Firft  Book,  by  MarIoc,7i 
Jifagna  Cbarta  often  reprintedy  64 
Mantiian,  tranfl.  by  Tuberville,  71 
Manual  de  Peche,  by  R.  de  Brunnc,35 
Maphacus  fupplement.book  of  Virgil,  by 

Twyne,  70 
Martial's  Epigrams,  by  Kendall,  71 
Medea,  by  Studley,  69 
Mirrour  for  Magiftra  tes,  by  Sackvillc, 

67 
Moralities  impronted  iy  Hawaii,  59,  61] 
Mufaeus,  by  Chapman,  69 
Ochine's  Sermons,  by  A.  Bacon,  83 
Odavia,  by  Newce,  69 
Oedipus,  by  Nevyle,  69 
Ovid's  Art  of  Love,  by  Douglas,  59 
— —  Elegies,  by  Marloe,  70 
-— —  Faiii,70 
■  ■     Heroical   Epiflles,  by    Tuber- 
ville, 70 
■.         Ibis,  by  Underdowne,  70 

■  Metamorphofis,  by  Golding,  70 

■  '■■  Remedy  of  Love,  70 
Tritlia,  by  Churchyard,  70 

Orofius'straanflation,  by  K.  Alfred,  lO 
Palingenius's  Zodiac,  by  Googe,  7 1 
,  Paradife  of  dainty  dev.  by  Edvpards,  67 
Paffetyme  of  PIcafure,  by  Hawes,  58 
Peblis  to  the  Play,  by  K.  James  I.  54. 
Philotus,  64 

Pliny's  Letters,  by  Fleming,  7a 
Plutarch  de  Qiriofitate,  by  Q^  Eliza- 
beth, 8a 
Polyalbion,  by  Drayton,  26 
Pompon.  Mela's  Geogr.  by  Golding,  71 
Princ.  Plcaf.  of  Kennelw.   Caftle,  by 

Gafcoigne,  80 
Promos  and  Caffandra,  by  Whetftonc, 
io 


R«jconciliatIon,way  of,  by  E.  RufTd,? j 
Rhodes,  HiUory  of  the  Siege  of  by  Kay, 

51 
Royal  advice  to  her  Son,  by  Q^Mary, 

83 
Salluft's   Jugurth.  War,  by  Q^ Eliza- 
beth, 82 
Schoolmaller,  by  R.  Ascham,  68 
Seneca's  Hercules  Furens,Thyeftes,  and 

Troas,  by  Heywood,      7of 
'  Thebais,  by  Newton,  ibid. 

On  Benefits,  by  Golding,  71 

— — —  Ten  Tragedies,  69 
Statius's  Thebais,  by  Newton,  71 
Shepherd's  Calendar,  by  Spenfer,  77 
Ship  of  Fools,  by  Barclay,  58 
Siege  of  Thebes,  by  Lydgate.jo 
Solinus's  Polyhiftory,  by  Golding,  7a 
Song  of  K.  Jameson  his  Miftr.  54 
Synefius's  Panegyric,  by  Fleming,  69 
Tacitus's  Four  Firft  Books,  by  Saville,  74 
TafTo's  Jerufalem  deliv.  by  Fairfiax,  73 
Tragedie  of  Antonio,  by  M.Sidncy,  83 
Thiltle  and  ELofe,  by  Dunbai,59 
Toxophilus,  by  R.  Afcham,  65 
Travels  of  Ohthcr  and    Wulfftan,  by 

King  Alfred,  10=17 
Treatife  on  the  proper  mode  of  writing 
the  Eng.  Lang,  by  Smith,  65,68 
■   on  the  difference  of  the  ages  of 
man's  life,  by  Cuff,  82 
Tutkifl^Mahomet,  a  Trag.  by  Peele,  8t 
Virgidemiarum,  by  Hall,  79 
Virgil's  Aeneid,  by  Douglas  60 
-  — —  by  Howard,  62* 
■  — by  Phayer  &  Twyne,  7© 

■  — __  by  Stanyhurft,      70 

■  —  Alexis,  by  Fleming,         71 

I  Bucolics  &  Georgics,  Do.  ibid. 
Culex,  by  Spenfer,     -     Ibid. 


Viitue  and  Vyce,  by  Ballendcn,  63 
Vifion  of  P.  Plowman,  by  Longlande,  37 
Utopia,  by  Sir  Thomas  More,  61 
Wallace,  Sir  William's  Life  Snd  exploiti, 

by  Henry  the  Minftrel,  39,  ss 
Writer,  tbepfifor  Bread,  8 1 
Xenophon's  loftitut.  by  Bercher,  69. 


ESSAY 


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