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find it already rolled away, and the body gone. Being exceedingly aftonished at this, they dispersed themselves to different places, to inform the disciples of what they had seen; for it is not at all probable, that, in their present state of fear and confternation, they were all together." Mary Magdalene went to Peter and John, who immediately ran to the sepulchre, followed by Mary herself; bat Ataying longer than they did, and looking into the fepulchre, after they were gone, he saw first the two angels, and then Jesus himself.
Supposing the other women not to have quitted the garden, but to have waited for the return of Mary Magdalene, we may allow that they also were favoured with an appearance of Jesus to them, presently after the appearance to Mary, and before they had quitted the garden, when they were all permitted to embrace his feet, ac. cording to Matthew.
* By this time, it is probable, that moft of his disciples were got together, in consequence of the news they had heard, when Mary joined them, and informed them that she had seen Jesus himself, but they gave no credit to her. Some time the same day, when the disciples were separated, Jesus appeared to Peter alone, Lake xxiv. 34, who upon this, probably affembled as many of the disciples as he could, to inform them of it. After the appearance of Peter, our Lord joined the two disciples who were going to Emmaus, and dis. covered himself to them ;. upon which they immediately returned to Jerusalem, and going to the place where the disciples were assembled, were informed by them that Jesus had appeared to Peter ; and while they were giving an account of the manner in which he had made himself known to them also, Jesus himself appeared to them, and eat with them. Thomas, being informed of this, would not believe; but that day sevennight, Jesus appeared to them when Thomas was present, and was fully satisfied. After this, all the disciples went to Galilee, where Jesus was seen by them, and the other disciples, many of whom resided in Galilee ; and returning to Jerusalem, he ascended to heaven in the presence of many of them, from the Mount of Olives.
• I take it for granted, that John would not have given so circumftantial an account, as he has done of the manner in wbich the resur. section was first notified, if it had not been for the sake of being more exact than the other Evangelists had been. I have, therefore, followed his account, and think that the variations in the other Evangelists, which cannot be eally reconciled with it, mutt be ascribed to their being mignformed, and mistaken concerning them. But they are things of no moment, so that the variations with respect to them, serve to make the general account of the refurrection the more, and not the less credible.
All the Evangelists, except John, represent the women as hav. ing seen the vision of angels before any of them bad been with the apoftles, but the account which Joha gives, makes the discovery of the resurreion more gradual and pleasing. It is also to be observed, that the manner in which they describe this vision is remarkably different.
• The reader will find much light thrown upon the history of the resurrection in a quarto pamphlet of Dr. Lardner's, intituled, Obfer.
vations on Dr. Macknight's Harmony of the four Gospels, so far as rr lates to the Hiftory of our Saviour's Resurrection. Dr. Macknight has made such a number of arbitrary and improbable suppositions relating to this part of the gospel history, that, instead of. Tucceeding in his attempts to reconcile the different accounts of it, the unwarrantable Jiberties he has taken with it do, as Dr. Lardner observes, exceed. ingly perplex and pervert the biftory, which must be of bad confequence, No biftory, he oblerves, p. 16, can stand such treatment. My acCount of the order of the events agrees very nearly with that of Dr. Lardner, though it was written without consulting his. We differ in this, that he thinks all the writers had precisely the same ideas of the order of the events, which to me does not appear pro• bable.'
To this work the Author bath prefixed a manly and sensible dedication to that friend of civil and religious liberty, and, in all respects, most amiable character, Dr. Price. Some of our Readers will, perhaps, think themselves obliged to us for a transcript of it:
• REVEREND AND DEAR SIR, • Permit me, as a mark of our friendship, and of our love of the Same fudies, to inscribe chis work to you. Ii is not that I wish to screen myself behind your authority, or to make you refponfible for what is new, and may be thought too bold or hazardous in the opi. wions maintained in it; but I wish to have your countenance for the freedom with which I have treated this fubje&t, and especially for what I have said relating to the inspiration of the bo ks of scripture, This opinion is not only a bar to freedom of inquiry, but has operated in a manner very unfavourable to the credibility of the gospel history. With respect to other matters of a speculative nature, relating to Christianity, I cannot be more ready to take, than you are to allow, and encourage, the greatest freedom of thinking and wri. ting, and consequently the moft open and avowed difference of fen. riment ; fince what is most essential to the Christian temper and condual is perfe&tly consistent with this difference.
• In a variety of articles in metapbyfies, and speculative theology, it is probable that, having, at an early period, embraced very different general principles, you and I Mall continue through life to hold very different opinions, and with respect to their influence in a the. oretical system, we may lay considerable stress upon them, but we agree in a firm belief of Chrifianity, and of the infinite importance of it to the virtue and happiness of mankind.
• Wherher Christ was a man like ourselves, or a being of a higher rank, but between which and the Supreme, there is still the fame infinite distance, the authority of the gospel precepts, promises, and fanctions is the fame, and the highest possible, viz. that of the great being by whom Chritt spake, who is his God and Father as well as Ours ; and who, if we obey his will revealed to us in the gospel, will love and honour us, as he loves and honours him,
• I think myself happy in being united with you in the pursuit of natural science, and in an attachment to the natural rights and liber fries of mankind; but I truft we tall both of us ever act upon the idea
of the inferiority of all the civil rights of men to the privileges of
ART. II. The Gentleman Farmer, being an Attempt to improve Agri.
culture, by fubje&ting it to the Tej of rational Principles. By
(By a CORRESPONDENT)
of Scotland ; but all ranks, in that country, are now
The work before as is, in fome measure, liable to this objection. Almost every branch of the farmer's business is here discussed, nor are all of them treated with equal skill and judgment. But the book, nevertheless, contains so many useful precepts, the result of experience, that we consider it, on the wkole, as a valuable addit.on to the general stock of agricultural knowledge ; especially to the inhabitants of Scoifand, for whom it was in a particular manner originally intended.
The Public is indebted for this valuable treatise to the very ingenious Author of the Elements of Criticism; who, at a period of life when others only seek for ease, is indefatigable in the pursuit of knowledge ; and who, like another Voltaire, repelling the attacks of time, unites the experience of age with the fire and vivacity of youth. The press still teems with the varied productions of his unwearied pen; but, unlike the philofopher of Ferney, our Author is employed in conveying to his
* Mather Inn D. a friend of years
countrymen only useful knowledge and lessons of wisdom, by
which posterity will be benefited, long after the sprightly, but
This work consists of two parts, the first on the practice,
We mentioned, in our last, the general contents of this work, and gave a few passages from it, as specimens of the execution : to which the following extracts and observations may now be added.
Among other particulars in the second chapter (on Farm, cattle, &c.) we meet with a comparison between the expence of labouring with horses or with oxen, which, like all other computations of this kind, of late, turns out much in favour of the former. We, who speak not from any great experience, can see no valid objection to this calculation ; but one peculiarity has occurred to us on this head, which deserves to be attended to. We know that, in old times, oxen were the only beasts of draught throughout every part of Britain. We know also that wherever, in this country, considerable improvements in agriculture have taken place, oxen have been long disused, and horses have been employed in their stead : and that although horned cattle are still put to the plough, in those rude and uncultivated parts of the country where agriculture is unskilfully practised, yet that they never fail to disappear as the inhabitants improve in knowledge, and are as invariably succeeded by horses for draught. Whence, we would ask, proceeds this unaccountable phenomenon? We hear daily complaints that mankind are so wedded to old practices, that it is a matter of great difficulty to persuade them to adopt new ones, even when demonstrations of their superior utility are produced ; but, in this instance, although strong arguments are daily employed to convince men that they will do well to adhere to their old practice, they, nevertheless, relinquish it, and adopt a new one, in favour of which they are not able to produce any argument that seems to be of weight. Such a peculiarity could not prevail so universally without some cause. We therefore recommend this circumstance to the confideration of future writers, as an object that requires a more serious investigation than it seems, as yet, to have obtained.
His directions about bringing land into tillage from the state of nature, are judicious, and the result of actual experiment. The first crop he recommends is turnips, after having brought the land into a mellow tilth by fallow and manures. This is an expensive method in comparison of some that have been re. çommended to the Public by farming quacks, who, by calcu.
lations that are perfectly faultless, fave that they have no foundation to rest upon, prove in the clearest manner that a barren heath is more valuable to its poffeffor, and will sooner enrich him than the mines of Potosi. What have not those to answer for, who thus deliberately set themselves to ruin those ignorant and credulous persons into whose hands such chimerical creatises
În treating of ridges, he observes that, on a clay foil, the ridges ought to be twelve feet wide, and twenty inches high'; to be preserved always in the same form by casting, that is, by ploughing two ridges together, beginning at the furrow that separates them, and ploughing round and round till the two ridges are finilhed.' To this form of a ridge we have some objections : first, The same plough can never be equally proper for plowing the hanging and raised fide of the ridge, on which account it would be necessary to employ, at all times, two ploughs of different constructions, otherwise one side of the ridge, at least, must be imperfectly plowed: secondly, When two furrows are turned towards one another in beginning to plow the two ridges, these furrows must either be laid quite close upon each other, or a part of the earth will be left fait beneath them; but if they are laid quite close at plowing, and an opening is afterwards made by the plough between these ridges, a part of the edge of the furrow will be raised higher than that part of the ridge which is immediately behind it, where the water will be detained before it can reach the furrow, and will damage the crop: lastly, The rounding procured by raising the middle of the ridge so high, can be of no use in throwing off the water from the ridge during all that interval which occurs between plowing and harrowing (which is usually the wettest season of the year) as the inequalities formed by the furrow-flices lying parallel to one another the whole length of the ridge, prevent its descent. For these reasons we imagine it would be more advilable to keep the ridges always flat in clay as well as other soils, only with the precaution of making the ridges narrow in proportion to the viscidity and obduracy of the clay. A skilful plowman can always give narrow ridges (when plowed so as to make what was the furrow the former year the middle of the ridge this year) a sufficient degree of roundness to allow the water to fall into the furrows. But the most perfect manner of ridging land of this kind, that we have yet seen, is that which is practised in Essex. There the ridges are only about three feet wide, and are made to run in a direction right across the ridges of the former year, by which means the horses in plowing always step full across the former years ridges, so as never to poach the ground with their feet in the smallest degree : an advantage of very great moment in a damp binding foil.