special purposes, his ancient people, and fenced them in from all the nations round about, and appointed them civil and religious ordinances different from those of every other nation. Hence we find, in the Hebrew scriptures more particularly, that we are never allowed to forget that we are within the precincts of the Holy Land. The Jordan is continually in sight, and we are ever and anon catching glimpses of Gennesareth, of the Dead Sea, and of the deserts round about. The olive and the fig and the palm tree meet us on every hand, and Carmel and Lebanon are ever rising into view, and the hills around Zion are an everlasting presence. The drought of summer, with its brown fields and voiceless streams, its dewy nights and cloudless days; the eagerly anticipated return of the former and the latter rain; the hot winds from the desert, and the sun that smites by day and the moon by night; the men and camels that are seen standing here and there beneath projecting rocks; the loungers in the shaded courts and on the flat roofs at eventide, and the leathern bottle slung across the traveller's back, and the washing of his feet as a primary rite of hospitality, everything reminds us that we are in a land of the sun, where water is scarce and shadow is a blessing. On every hand, too, we see the implements and signs of a pastoral and agricultural life: the shepherd's crook, the pruning knife of the vinedresser, and the husbandman's plough and yokes of oxen; the fold here, the grinding mill yonder, with flax and wool, and spindle and loom; the shout of the treader in the winepress close at hand, and the songs of the reapers in the harvest field at a distance. There is treading of grapes, and shearing of sheep, and winnowing of corn; and the land flows with milk and with honey. And, in the midst of all this, we see the incense of the morning and of the evening sacrifice ascending from the temple, and the tribes moving up to Jerusalem to one or other of the great festivals, and the roads that lead to the cities of refuge are smoking beneath the feet of the manslayer and avenger. In other words, an intense nationality prevails, and the sacred writers throw us into the midst of it and keep us there. The august machinery of the Mosaic ritual is ever playing around us; and the temple, as its heart, beats night and day, and its pulsations are felt from Dan to Beersheba. And mixed up and inwoven with this are the prevailing character and phenomena of the climate and country, and the events and traditions of the past. Every promise, and prediction, and denunciation embodies itself in an appearance of nature, a fact in history, or in a rite or canon of the ceremonial or judicial law. The burdens of prophecy and the memories of a thousand years are incorporated and inextricably connected with the institutions of religion and the scenery and skies of Palestine. The one is the body, the other is the soul. It must follow from all this, that numerous and pervading peculiarities shall be found, if not in the spirit, at least in the form and embroidery of Hebrew poetry; and it is plain that these peculiarities will not be adequately comprehended and enjoyed, except by those who take some pains to understand the physical, and moral, and mental conditions out of which they arose, and by which they were shaped and coloured. Where this is done, and successful effort is made to form a just picture of Palestine in the mind, and to throw ourselves back into the midst of the scenes and interests, national and domestic, which are described or adverted to; where, in short, we enter into the feelings and sympathies of the ancient Jew and his times,—it will follow that the figures drawn from, and the allusions made to what was peculiar in climate or landscape, in the judicial or ceremonial law, in the temple service or appointments of the priests, and in the modes of thought and speech which arose out of these peculiarities, will shortly appear in a very different light to us; so much so indeed, that what was previously obscure will become clear; what was unmeaning, significant; what the change of manners reckons mean, dignified and important; and the apparently coarse and harsh will rise into delicacy and refinement. But to reach this end implies some labour, though happily not more, but in the main less, than is required in similar cases; for the land which was the birth-place of inspiration and of the Messiah, embraces within its bosom the elements of winter and summer, the characteristics of the poles and of the torrid zone, the snows of Libanus and the luxuriant vegetation of the line within sight of each other, and the sterile wilderness lying a few hours' march from the garden of the Lord, so that the imagery founded on local appearances is patent to the world, and to all time. Yet not the less a certain amount of labour is needed, even here, to conceive aright of the distinctive features of the scenery, climate and vegetation of Judea, in order to judge correctly of their effects upon the body and the mind, and in order to understand the force and fitness of certain allusions and comparisons which are made. But if effort be necessary here, it is much more so in all that relates to the symbolical and somewhat complicated machinery of the Mosaic dispensation; yet such is the proneness of human nature to indolence, and especially in such matters, that the labour required in this case forms a sufficient barrier to keep thousands in Christian countries loitering all their lives in the purlieus of sacred poetry. We see to what extent this cause, amongst others, operates in the case of a profound or original work making its appearance. It is true that similar labour has been readily and widely undergone in order to master the Greek and Roman classics; but to make this mastery is counted learning, and the other is not. The Pantheon is crowded, whilst the Temple is comparatively empty, and mythology attracts its students by thousands, who smile at the effete folly, and study on. If labour then be necessary to appreciate the profane, on what ground should it be objected to be needful in order to understand and relish the sacred classics? Another reason for the unpopularity of the literature of the Bible may be found in the prevailing characteristics of its literary beauties. They lack that sound and show which attract the unformed and half-formed taste. The lights and tinsel of the theatre are awanting. What is natural, unobtrusive, and subdued the quiet and mature-has not yet learned to please. The exaggerated in sound, the gaudy in colour, and glaring in contrast, secure the preference and awaken the plaudits of the unripe mind. A taste for light literature, and for what is intense, artificial, and sparkling in poetry is contracted, and it is conceived that all else is fitted only for persons of obtuse feeling and dull fancy. A standard of taste is thus hastily set up; everything is tried by it, and summarily approved or dismissed; and all the while it is forgotten that taste, like the power of reasoning justly and comprehensively, is the result of much thought, and careful culture, and frequent failure. So long as taste remains in this incipient stage, the calmer but higher literary beauties of the Bible are apt to remain unappreciated, and to be approached with indifference or aversion, or only by constraint; and consequently, so far as its perusal is concerned with a view to literary enjoyment, it is not sought after, but shunned. No surer sign, perhaps, of mental refinement can be given than a deep and unaffected love of the chastened and retiring graces of Holy Writ. The chief reason remains to be stated, viz. a prejudice arising from moral causes, secret and undefined perhaps, and probably disavowed, but not the less real or influential. Had I but formerly known Christianity to be what I now find it, I should not have delayed turning Christian till this time of my imprisonment. But I had the misfortune to be prejudiced against religion, first through my own passions, but afterwards likewise through so many human inventions foisted into it, of which I could see plainly that they had no foundation, though they were styled essential parts of Christianity.'1 It is sufficiently notorious, that of the opposers of the Scripture there is a great part whose vanity and envy (though no small faults) are not their greatest crimes; but who live so dissolutely and scandalously that the suspicion cannot but be obvious, that such decry the Scripture for fear of being obliged (at least for mere shame) to live more conformably to it. And that 'twere no slander to affirm it to be their interest, not their reason, that makes them find fault with a book that finds so much fault with them.'" Few covet to be mighty in the Scriptures. A spirit of self-fulness, pride, and spiritual sloth lies at the bottom of this sinful neglect.'3 It can hardly be doubted that there are many literary men, who, from one or other moral cause, cherish a dislike of inspired literature; whose ardour is chilled and whose sympathies are repelled by the heart-searching tones of the sacred harp; who listen with delight and finest perception to the lyres of ancient Rome and Greece, but who turn away with indifference from the psalteries of Judea; who speak with rapture of Olympus and the nod by which it was shaken, but who see no majesty in the look that troubled the depths of the sea and made the world tremble, and hear no sublimity in the voice that melted the earth and shook the pillars of heaven; who will walk with uplifted hand around the hill of Mars and the Parthenon, but who will not be persuaded to describe attentively the circuit of Moriah and the Temple; and who in many, if not in most instances, were led to their opinions in this matter by a way which they deprecate in other things,-pronouncing judgment ere they hear, and condemning ere they see, or having only seen and heard imperfectly, because impatiently, or through the eyes and ears of others, who themselves, for the most part, had heard and seen afar off. Of such persons it is hardly unfair to say, 'They are like the deaf adder that stoppeth the ear, and will not hearken to the voice of the charmer, charm he never so wisely,' for they have settled it in their hearts that nothing good can come out of Nazareth.' Prejudice, however, is sometimes surprised into admiration by meeting covertly the thoughts and images of Scripture elsewhere; and the immature and vitiated taste will sometimes be taken in rapture with the poetry of the Bible when stealthily presented to it under the trappings which it loves. It is but fair to add, however, that whilst many persons of literary tastes act in this manner, the most accomplished scholars and highest class of critics in our own and other countries have acted differently. Only inferior men, generally speaking, have spoken or written disparagingly of the literary qualities of the Bible; and perhaps it may be interesting to the general reader to close these somewhat desultory remarks on the manner of God's message by quoting the opinions of a few distinguished men on the subject. These are so exceedingly numerous, that the difficulty lies in selection. The great praise of Ptolemy, as I deem, was his causing the Holy 1 Count Struensee, prime minister to Christian VII., king of Denmark; executed for high treason, 1772. 2 Honourable Robert Boyle, Considerations touching the Style of Scripture, p. 175. John Locke, died 1704. Ps. lxxvii. 16. 5 Ps. civ. 32. • Ps. xlvi. 6. Job xxvi. 11. Scriptures, with great travail and charge, to be translated out of the Hebrew into the Greek tongue; not that I censure the collections of great men, but say, that were all books to be destroyed, this one retained, would be a greater treasure than all the millions put together that ever were published by mortal man.'1 'I will confess that the majesty of the Scripture strikes me with admiration, as the purity of the gospel hath its influence on my heart. Peruse the works of our philosophers with all their pomp of diction; how mean, how contemptible are they compared with Scripture! Is it possible that a book, at once so simple and so sublime, should be merely the work of man?' I examine the Bible with all the attention of which I am capable, and I freely own that the more I examine it, the more I am struck with the characteristics of truth, the originality and sublimity which I discover. This book appears to me unexampled and absolutely inimitable. The sublimity of thought, the majesty and simplicity of expression; the beauty, the purity, I could almost say the homogeneity of the doctrine; the importance, the universality, and the expressive brevity and paucity of the precepts; their admirable appropriation to the nature and wants of man; the ardent charity which so generously enforces the observation of them; the affecting piety, force, and gravity of the composition; the profound and truly philosophical sense which I discover in it, these are the characters which fix my attention to the book I examine, and which I do not meet with, in the same degree, in any production of the human mind. I am equally affected with the candour, the ingenuousness, the modesty, I should have said the humility, of the writers, and that unexampled and constant forgetfulness of themselves, which never admits their own reflections, or the smallest eulogium in reciting the actions of their Master.'" 'What can we imagine more proper for the ornaments of wit and learning in the Deucalion, than in that of Noah? Why will not the actions of Samson afford as plentiful matter as the labours of Hercules? Why is not Jephthah's daughter as good a woman as Iphigenia? and the friendship of David and Jonathan more worthy of celebration than that of Theseus and Perithous? Does not the passage of Moses and the Israelites into the Holy Land yield incomparably more poetical variety than the voyages of Ulysses or Æneas? Are the obsolete, threadbare tales of Thebes and Troy half so stored with great, heroical, and supernatural actions, as the wars of Joshua, of the Judges, of David, and divers others? Can all the transformations of the gods give such copious hints to flourish and expatiate on, as the true miracles of Christ, or of the prophets and apostles? What do I instance in these few particulars? All the books of the Bible are either already most admirable and exalted pieces of poetry, or are the best materials in the world for it.' 4 'Whence but from heaven, could men unskilled in arts, Weave such agreeing truths; or how, or why, Should all conspire to cheat us with a lie? Unasked their pains, ungrateful their advice, Starving their gain, and martyrdom their price... It speaks no less than God in every line; ! Petrarch, the Tuscan poet, 1374. 2 Jean Jacques Rousseau, Emilius. 6 The pure and noble, the graceful and dignified simplicity of language, is nowhere in such perfection as in the Scripture and our author.' 'The Scriptures contain, independently of a divine origin, more true sublimity, more exquisite beauty, more pure morality, more important history, and finer strains both of poetry and eloquence, than could be collected from all other books that were ever composed in any age, or in any idiom.' 2 "In the Scripture, wherever God is represented as appearing, everything terrible in nature is called up to heighten the awe and solemnity of the divine presence. The psalms and the prophetical books are crowded with instances of this kind. "The earth shook (says the psalmist), the heavens also dropped at the presence of the Lord." It would be no difficult matter for a man of diligence and good taste, competently skilled in the Hebrew and classical learning, to prove that the Hebrew Bible has every beauty and excellence that can be found in all the Greek and Roman authors; and a great many more and stronger than any in all the most admired classics.' 4 Where in the Iliad shall we find simplicity and pathos which shall vie with the narrative of Moses, or maxims of conduct to equal in wisdom the Proverbs of Solomon, or sublimity which does not fade away before the conceptions of Job or David, of Isaiah or St. John?' 'In point of grandeur and sublimity of conception, of discrimination, of unaffected simplicity, of ingenuous disinterestedness, of unbending integrity, of successful execution, the Scriptures are unrivalled; and it is only necessary to compare their productions with the most admired compositions of antiquity, to assign to them unhesitatingly the preference.'6 'Since the revelation of Christianity, all moral thought has been sanctified by religion. Religion has given it a purity, a solemnity, a sublimity, which even among the noblest of the heathen we shall look for in vain. The knowledge that shone but by fits and dimly on the eyes of Socrates and Plato, "that rolled in vain to find the light," has descended over many lands, into "the huts where poor men lie;" and thoughts are familiar there, beneath the low and smoky roofs, higher far than ever flowed from the lips of Grecian sage, meditating among the magnificence of his pillared temples.' In simplicity and touching pathos it excels every composition I ever met. . . . Estimated as a mere literary composition, we can see nothing to equal this in Sterne, or Shakespeare, or Mackenzie, or any of the greatest masters of eloquence or poetry.'s 'The Bible comprises the largest variety of materials, with the closest unity of design, and the most majestic harmony of proportion. All tends to one purpose, all centres in one object-the glory of God in the salvation of his intelligent creatures. And be it observed that throughout the announcement of this vast design, no capacity, or taste, or disposition of man is left without its proper food, its just excitement, and its full employment.' The chief end of the Bible,' says Rollin, is rather to purify the heart, than captivate the imagination or gratify lettered curiosity;''yet God,' says Pratt, who knew human nature, knew the method by which that nature is most forcibly attracted. He knew, consequently, what mode of address was best adapted, and would most readily be admitted into the bosom, and work its way into the soul. Hence He directed a language likely to answer such ends; and this accounts for the remarkable majesty, simplicity, pathos, and energy, and 1 Alexander Pope, preface to Homer. Died 1744. 7 9 2 Sir William Jones, the most accomplished scholar of his times. Died 1794. Professor Wilson, Essays on Sacred Poetry, vol. ii. p. 336. Encyclop. Metrop. |