arrived at the prescribed incompetency to distinguish between Haman and Mordecai, he had lost all power of distinguishing between right and wrong—that, therefore, he had not done it with malice propense; what sentence, therefore, does the Talmud pronounce against a murderer of this sort? If Rabba was allowed to go at large, as would appear from his invitation to Rabbi Zira the following year, a repetition of the same offence was possible, a repetition of the miracle in R. Zira’s opinion highly improbable. Thus Rabba might go on from year to year killing one or more with impunity, and would be a far more dangerous neighbour than “the ox that was wont to push with his horn.” If, on the other hand, he is to be punished capitally, then the oral law is plainly not from God; for obedience to the greatest of its commandments makes it possible for a man to commit the greatest of crimes, and to subject himself to the extremity of punishment. But we object, secondly, to _the exaltation of a mere human ordinance above the Word of God_. The reading of the book of Esther at the feast of Purim, is no doubt a very appropriate, and may be a very profitable exercise. But it is confessedly of human appointment. It is of the words of the scribes; the time and the mode are altogether Rabbinical ordinances. Why, then, “are all the remaining commandments of the law to give way to the reading of the Megillah?” The priest was to neglect the service to which God had appointed him, in order to obey a mere human institution. And the Israelites to neglect the duties of love and charity, to fulfil a mere ceremonial commandment. Here is a plain token that the oral law is not from God, but is the offspring of human invention and superstition. The human mind exalts ceremonies above moral duties. God declares that all outward observances are secondary. “I desired mercy and not sacrifice, and the knowledge of God more than burnt offerings.” (Hos. vi. 6.) “He hath showed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk numbly with thy God?” (Mic. vi. 8.) And so the New Testament says in the very same spirit, “The first of all the commandments is, Hear O Israel: the Lord our God is one Lord, and thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, &c. This is the first commandment. And the second is like, namely this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these.” (Mark. xii. 29-31.) The oral law, on the contrary, tells us that “all the commandments, except the burying of the dead, are to give way to the reading of the Megillah,” to a mere ceremony; and that not even of God’s appointment. God prefers mercy before the sacrifices which He himself has instituted. The Talmud prefers a human institution to all God’s commandments. A more striking instance of genuine superstition, and a stronger proof of the human origin of the oral law cannot be found.