great deal too much of art; whereas the Hebrew bard, as befits the elegiac muse, is all feeling and nature. Several of the Psalms, composed on occasions of distress and mourning, are in the elegiac style. The forty-second Psalm, in particular, is in the highest degree tender and plaintive, presenting us with what may be termed a spiritual elegy, when, in dirge-like strain, a forlorn soul laments its being denied access to God in his sanctuary.

But chief among the Hebrew elegists is Jeremiah. His Lamentations present the most regular and perfect elegiac composition. As the prophet mourns over the destruction of the Temple and the holy city, and the overthrow of the whole State, nothing could exceed for dirge-like grandeur, his melancholy strains; and the images which he assembles are of the most affecting description. Put together and united in one book, executed with consummate skill, yet natural, and unrestrained as is the voice of sorrow, these Lamentations present an altogether unique specimen of writing, which indeed could have had its birth no where but in a Hebrew soul; and could have been poured forth over no other land than that of Israel. Only on the fall and ruin of Jerusalem could sorrow have raised these so sad wailings, or patriotism have shed these so melancholy tears. The great grief of the prophet is justified by its cause. The mind of Jeremiah was of a soft and delicate texture; by nature he was mild and retiring, highly susceptible and sensitive, especially to

sorrowful emotions. Such a one, under the influence of divine energy, was peculiarly fitted to wake the solemn harp to the dirges of sorrow and lamentation. The strength of his anguish makes it sublime. His poetry has all the majesty of a sorrow which will not be comforted, yet it withdraws not into austere seclusion, but moved by an irrepressible sympathy with the miserable, it finds utterance in the most touching descriptions of their condition. His is not a selfish grief, which weeps merely to fill its own bitterness with tears; but moved by pity, he exhibits the objects of his song as objects of sympathy, and founds his expostulations on the miseries which he exhibits. His book of Lamentations is an astonishing exhibition of his power to accumulate images of sorrow. Through this series of elegies one object only is present to his muse-the expression of grief for the forlorn condition of his country; and yet he so shifts the lights and shadows, has such a diversity of figures, that not only are his mournful strains not felt to be tedious reiterations, but the reader is captivated by the plaintive melancholy which pervades the whole.

Others of the Hebrew poets have left us specimens of the elegy, which though briefer than Jeremiah's, are admirable of their kind. With what dirge-like grandeur David has sorrowed over the misfortunes of Israel, as in Ps. xliv, lx, lxxiii! So also have Ezek., xxvii, xxxii, and Is. i, xxi, mourned over the desecration or the destruction of the holy city.

Of didactic poetry we have a splendid specimen in the Book of Proverbs, where the poet tears away the tinsel mask, and brands the uncovered brow of Vice as with a searing iron, while he adorns Virtue with her own pure loveliness, and strings upon her virgin robes the Oriental pearls of Eastern poetry; with a satire two-edged and keen are mingled the grave sagacity of the sage, the elegance of the finished scholar, the profound maxims of the philosopher, and reflections on human life and characters, which show the accurate observer and astutious moralist. The Book of Ecclesiastes, by the same author, is another example of the didactic species of poetry. In this remarkable piece, the satire of the poet seems for a time to indulge itself in burning scorn and biting sarcasm: flinging withered leaves on the footsteps of Summer, strewing the path of memory with ashes, and closing the vista of hope with gloom; but ere long the satirist is forgotten in the sage, whose more genial utterances fall like reviving showers on the experiences which satire with its hot breath had scorched and blighted, when all is not left to seem a wilderness, but one spot at least is spared, where, as in a bower of beauty and peace and pleasure, Virtue can dwell with Hope, serene and secure. Hence the effect which the first portion of this poem might produce on some minds, by fostering a miserable or mocking cynicism, is admirably counteracted in the closing portions; and the entire piece, by the poet's felici

tous use of contrast, forms one of the noblest specimens of a didactic poem.

Pastoral poetry, as might be expected from the pastoral habits of the Israelites, is very plentiful in their poetical books; and their sweet singer, having himself, in his youth, tended the flocks, did not when he had reached his regal estate forget to touch his harp to pastoral strains, as witness especially the 23d Psalm. The Book of Ruth is an exquisite bit of rural description—a charming Idyllian picture throughout.

I could willingly linger with the sacred poets, in an attempt to give a critical analysis of their several styles and methods, and to institute a comparison between them and the poets of other lands. But besides my conscious inability to do justice to such a task, another consideration restrains me. This is a branch of sacred literature which has been largely treated by abler pens; I shall therefore content myself with referring the reader who wishes for full information to such writers as Lowth, Ewald, Herder, Noyes, and Jebb; while those who have not leisure to peruse these erudite works will find the subject treated in a more popular form, yet with great acumen and eloquence, in Gilfillan's "Bards of the Bible."

CHAPTER XI.

THE HISTORICAL IN THE SCRIPTURES.

AFTER what has been said under the head of the "Picturesque," I do not know that I have any thing more to add respecting the style and outward structure of the sacred histories. In their method and design there are certain peculiarities which merit a few observations.

The question, What is history? like the question, What is poetry? has given rise to a good deal of discussion, which repeated attempts at definition can hardly be said to have settled. That history has a higher function than simply to furnish a bare register of events, or a book of annals, or a chronological table, is now universally admitted. On facts every veracious history of course is founded; but if there be only these, then you have merely the bones, or at best the bones and the flesh, while the spirit is wanting. What then is that vital principle by which the historian shall animate the materials of past ages? Some have sought for it in the vivacity which can be imparted to a narrative by picturesque description and artistic grouping. Others have sought in philosophy the principle which should impart life to their labors, with their narra