history, is now made, for the first time, to require the soothing of David's minstrelsy. He sings a sort of dull hymn; which serves the purpose, however; and goes home to his father, who sends him to see his brothers in the camp. Here, again, Mr Sotheby makes amends for his great deviations from the original, by exactly copying the language of the Bible, where it is neither grand nor pathetic.

હતું Thy brethren feek, if, haply, yet alive.

Hafte! to the captain of their thousand, bear
Ten cheeses, newly preft. And for my fons,
Thy brethren, take an ephah of parch'd corn,

And these ten loaves. Hafte to the camp with speed :
Note how thy brethren fare, and take their pledge." p. 63.
What follows, however, as to his reception of the giant's
challenge, is executed with more freedom and effect.

At fight.

Of the mail'd challenger, all Ifrael filed;
Fled all, fave Jeffé's fon; whofe fpirit glow'd
Within him, and high confidence in Heav'n.
In vain the elder-born, rebuking, mock'd
His rashness. Loud again from Elah's vale
The taunting of the challenger fent up
To God defiance. To the fhepherd youth
Its found was as the call of one from Heav'n.
Nor David disobey'd. Still in their tents
Lay Ifrael: On the trench; as half-refolv'd,
Th' uplifted lances quivering in their grafp,
Stood Jonathan and Abner-here and there
Many a chief defpondent. p. 64.

The book ends with a brief versification of the scripture story of the death of Goliah, and the discomfiture of his people.

The proem to the fourth book is in exaltation of Great Britain.
We can only quote the gratulation for the abolition of the slave-
trade the noblest of all subjects for thanksgiving and joy.
The Weft awaits
The long-fufpended fentence. Its decreé
Goes forth. The fenate fhall efface the spot
That ftain'd thy ermine robes.

Man fhall not tempt
The mercy of his Maker on vext feas

That bear him on to blood. Man fhall not yoke
His brother; fhall not goad his kindred flesh,
Till the big fweat falls, tainted with the drop
That nurtur'd life. Man trades no more in man.
And if the groan of Afric yet mount up
To the tribunal of the God of Love,
Accufing human kind, it shall not draw
On Britain condemnation. Then expand,

Q 2

Albion,

Albion, thy fails, exultant; and diffufe,
Throughout the race and brotherhood of man,
The birth-right thou haft purchased with thy blood,
The heritage of freedom. Freight each fea
With burden of thy fleets: from clime to clime
Pour forth on each the gifts of all, and link
The world in bonds of love. Diffuse the light
Of fcience; teach the Savage arts unknown;
And o'er the nations and lone ifles, that fit
In darknefs, and the fhades of death, bring down
The day-fpring of falvation. p. 78, 79.

The poet then introduces the song of the virgins celebrating the victory. This, we think, is rendered with considerable spirit.

"Daughters of Ifrael! praife the Lord of Hofts!

Break into fong! with harp and tabret lift
Your voices up, and weave with joy the dance.
And to your twinkling footsteps, tofs aloft
Your arms and from the flash of cymbals, fhake
Sweet clangor, meafuring the giddy maze.

Shout ye! and ye! make answer, Saul hath flain
His thoufands; David his ten thousands flain.

Sing a new fong. I faw them in their rage;
I faw the gleam of spears, the flash of fwords,
That rang againft our gates. The warder's watch
Ceas'd not. Tower anfwer'd tower: a warning voice
Was heard without; the cry of woe within:
The fhrick of virgins, and the wail of her,
The mother, in her anguifh, who fore-wept,
Wept at the breast her babe, as now no more.
Shout ye! and ye! make anfwer, Saul hath flain
His thoufands; David his ten thousands flain.

Sing a new fong. Spake not th' infulting foe?
I will purfue, o'ertake, divide the fpoil.
My hand fhall dash their infants on the ftones:
The ploughfhare of my vengeance shall draw out
The fùrrow, where the tower and fortress rose.
Before
my
chariot, Ifrael's chiefs fhall clank
Their chains. Each fide, their virgin daughters groan :
Erewhile, to weave my conqueft on their looms.

Shout ye! and ye! make answer, Saul hath flain

His thoufands; David his ten thousands flain.

Thou heard', oh God of battle! Thou, whofe look
Knappeth the fpear in funder. In thy ftrength

A youth, thy chofen, laid their champion low.
Saul, Saul purfues, o'ertakes, divides the fpoil :

Wreaths round our necks these chains of gold, and robes
Our limbs with floating crimson. Then rejoice,

Daughters

Daughters of Ifrael! from your cymbals shake
Sweet clangor, hymning God, the Lord of Hofts!
Ye! fhout! and ye! make answer, Saul hath flain
His thousands; David his ten thousands flain. "

Such the hymn'd harmony, from voices breath'd
Of virgin minstrels, of each Tribe the prime
For beauty, and fine form, and artful touch
Of inftrument, and skill in dance and fong;
Choir anfwering choir, that on to Gibeah led
The victors back in triumph. On each neck
Play'd chains of gold: and, fhadowing their charms
With colour like the blushes of the morn,

Robes, gift of Saul, round their light limbs, in tofs
Of cymbals, and the many-mazed dance,

Floated like rofeate clouds.

Thus thefe came on

In dance and fong: Then, multitudes that fwell'd
The pomp of triumph, and in circles, rang'd
Around the altar of Jehovah, brought

Freely their offerings: and with one accord
Sang, "Glory, and praife, and worship unto God.
Loud rang the exultation. 'Twas the voice
Of a free people, from impending chains
Redeem'd a people proud, whose bosom beat
With fire of glory, and renown in arms,
Triumphant. Loud the exultation rang.

There, many a wife, whofe ardent gaze from far
Singled the warrior, whofe glad eye gave back
Her look of love. There, many a grandfire held
A blooming boy aloft, and midst th' array
In triumph, pointing with his ftaff, exclaim'd,

Lo, my brave fon! I now may die in peace.
There, many a beauteous virgin, blushing deep,
Flung back her veil, and, as the warrior came,
Hail'd her betroth'd. But, chiefly, on one alone
All dwelt. ' p. 81-84.

Saul is filled with jealousy and envy, and secretly vows the death of the youthful warrior, who, unconscious of his danger, gives God the glory in another hymn.

young

The second part is introduced with a vision of old Palestine; and proceeds to the description of Saul's obstinate hostility, and the love of Michal and Jonathan towards their deliverer. In the second book, he wins the hand of Michal by his victories over the Philistines; and is again forced to retreat into the wilderness, from the hatred of his father-in-law. Samuel anoints him King of Israel; and he sees, in a pretty tedious vision, the whole line of his descendants, with their exploits, from Solomon to our Redeemer. The idea of this anticipation was probably 0.3 borrowed

borrowed from the Davideis of Cowley; who took it again from the end of the sixth Æneid. It is not well executed by either of the moderns. It ends, in Mr Sotheby, with a prophetic hymn, celebrating the advent of our Saviour.

The third book opens with an address to friendship. It then describes the death of Samuel,—the covenant of love between Jonathan and David,—and the retreat of the latter for refuge to the city of the Philistines. On the way, Mr Sotheby indulges him with an interview with his wife Michal, who is travelling in a chariot at night, escorted by a detachment of Saul's guards. This lady is described, throughout, as the most gentle and affectionate of human beings, and we have no hint either of her second marriage, or of her ill-natured taunts to her husband on his vigorous dancing before the Lord. When he gets to Gath, instead of fighting for king Achish, as the Chronicles represent him, Mr Sotheby condemns the young Psalmist to be burned as a select victim at the shrine of Moloch; and after a long description of the temple and rites of that deity and of Ashtaroth, he makes a miraculous earthquake swallow up the idol and the worshippers, and leave the pious Hebrew free and unmolested. One of the richest and most poetical passages in the book, is the description of the mystic yeil which concealed the shrine of Ashtaroth; though the author is in a good measure indebted for his double picture of Thammuz, to Darwin's description of Adonis, and of the imagery of the Portland Vase.

Before

Its porch a curtain fell, embroider'd web

Of Tyre. In midft, a myftic orb, inwrought,

Half-fun, half-moon. Its broad circumference hung
Pois'd, where a wavy shadow ran athwart,
Severing the veil in twain. The upper limb,
And all above, as by its light illum'd,
Blaz'd in the radiance bright of burnish'd gold.
All forms of life there gather'd, and each form
Glow'd, full of life. The eagle foar'd aloft
On balanc'd wing: the fteed, in ftretch of race:
The kid danc'd wanton on fresh-fpringing flow'rs:
The green tree budded, and the bright rill flow'd.
Midft thefe, in bloom of beauty, from the fhades
Thammuz afcendant. In his hand, a fpear
Pois'd, ere yet lanc'd. O'er him, in air, fufpenfe,
A goddefs hug, and in his lips inbreath'd
The fpirit of life and love. Above, appear'd
Gods, gay at feaft. The lower limb, and all
Beneath its influence, feem'd with night o'ercaft:

night that may be nam'd, wherein each form

In filver wrought, fhone plainly vision'd forth;
But pale in the comparison of gold.

All hone: but 'twas the fhining of the moon,
Faint image of the fun. Each figure bore
Similitude of languor and decay.

There, Humankind funk down in fenfelefs fwoon,

Half-life, half-death. On the herblefs plain, the fteed
Lay panting. There, the kid, in act to fall,

Hung o'er the fere flow'r, withering 'neath his foot.
The eagle clos'd his eye, and folded in

Each feather smooth low cow'r'd his creft, and gleams
Soft flow'd along his gloffy back, uprais'd

In heave of flumber. There, the leaflefs tree
Droop'd; and what water feem'd, ftood icy ftill.
In midft of thefe, Sidonian kill had wrought
The form of Thammuz, bending o'er his wound,
Whence the large life-drops ftruggled. At his feet
A bow was broken, and its fhaft in twain.
Near him a boar his blood-ftain'd tusk uprais'd.
There bent the form of Thammuz: but, below,
His fpirit, like a fhadow, gliding on.

In guidance of a minister of death,

With ringlets fhorn, and torch extinct, fank down

To Hades, and the unembodied fhades.' p. 158-60.

The last book opens with an address to the Muse, in which the following lines, we think, are striking.

How oft, when Autumn, in the bleak gale rent

His robe, all colours, as the last leaves fere

Fell, have I lingering bade with thee the year
Farewell! and with enchanted gaze purfu'd
The broad illuminations, and deep fhades,
That chas'd each other o'er the champaign wide;
And ftriking in their stretch of speed, the woods
And high hill tops, brought out, like magic, change
Of momentary scenes.-My lay, ere long,
Will cease! I paufe upon the clofing ftrain.
A little while, and ye, fair vifions pure,
That people the wild folitude, and make
The pathlefs woodlands echo with my fong,
Will ceafe your infpiration! Haunts of peace!
Where underneath, the hufh'd winds murmuring,
I wont through leafy labyrinths to wind

The fummer day, and fhape, as fancy prompts,
My tuneful meditations. ' P. 172.

The warlike exploits of David, and his alliance with Achish, are passed over in silence by Mr Sotheby, as well as the adven

04

ture