and not perfectly understood; if we endeavour to demonstrate what is plain by what is occult, instead of making a subject clearer, we render it more perplexed and difficult. To obviate this inconvenience, we must take care, not only to avoid the violent and too frequent use of metaphors, but also not to introduce such as are obscure and but slightly related. From these causes, and especially from the latter, arises the difficulty of the Latin satirist, Persius; and but for the uncommon accuracy of the sacred poets in this respect, we should now be scarcely able to comprehend a single word of their productions.

"In the next place, the Hebrews not only deduce their metaphors from familiar or wellknown objects, but preserve one constant track and manner in the use and accommodation of them to their subject. The parabolic, indeed, may be accounted a peculiar style, in which things moral, political, and divine, are marked and represented by comparisons implied or expressed, and adopted from sensible objects. As in common and plain language, therefore, certain words serve for signs of certain ideas, so, for the most part, in the parabolic style, certain natural images serve to illustrate certain ideas more abstruse and refined. This assertion, indeed, is not to be understood absolutely without exception; but thus far, at least, we may affirm, that the sacred poets, in illustrating the same subject, make a much more constant use of the same imagery than other poets are accustomed to do; and this practice has a surprising effect in preserving perspicuity.

"I must observe, in the last place, that the Hebrews employ more freely and more daringly that imagery, in particular, which is borrowed from the most obvious and familiar objects, and the figurative effect of which is established and defined by general and constant use. This, as it renders a composition clear and luminous, even where there is the greatest danger of obscurity, so it shelters effectually the sacred poets from the imputation of exuberance, harshness, or bombast."

I have already remarked upon the obvious difference of style betwixt the prophecies of Balaam and the poetical writings of Moses, which will at once ratify the conclusion that the former, no less than the latter, were really the productions of him whose name they bear, not only from their specific and inherent claims to originality, so distinctly marked upon the very face of them, but because they are quoted by the Hebrew lawgiver as the compositions of Balaam; declared to have been uttered by him; and it is unquestionable that they exhibit the strongest internal evidence of not having been produced by the writer of the Pentateuch. How Moses became acquainted with the precise words used by Balaam on the several occasions spoken of in the book of Numbers, may seem a question of some perplexity; but I think that at least a reasonable conjecture may be offered. It is more than probable that Balaam himself wrote an account of the extraordinary transactions recorded of him in the sacred history. It is scarcely to be imagined, that a man possessing such high

intellectual endowments as the son of Bosor evidently did, should have permitted so many remarkable transactions to have lapsed into the gulph of oblivion, being, as they were, distinguished by such miraculous circumstances, and maintaining, as he did, so prominent a position in a series of events expressly directed to their consummation by God, in opposition to the most powerful efforts of man. We know that they who are conscious of possessing extraordinary mental accomplishments, naturally feel a disposition to perpetuate the memory of them by some recorded evidence. The desire of perpetuity is a feeling so prevalent in the human heart, that we can scarcely find an exception to its moving the desire of signalizing, by some memento of its power, the higher operations of the intellect. We can, therefore, hardly suppose that the gifted bard of Mesopotamia should have been a great exception to the rule, and not have noted down events in his own extraordinary life, so calculated to fix upon him an enduring reputation. His prophecies bear with them all the marks of wellconsidered compositions.

To me, then, upon the whole, it appears a natural conclusion, and no less natural than satisfactory, that Balaam committed his prophecies to writing after he had delivered them, and not only so, but that he composed them according to the strictest rules of the poetic art then practised among the Hebrew races.

When Balaam was slain among the princes of Midian, who were attacked by Moses the

same year in which those notable predictions were delivered on the mountains of Moab, these exquisite productions probably fell into the hands of the conqueror, who, under the infallible guidance of inspiration, introduced them into his history, knowing, without the possibility of mistake, for his mind was directed by the spirit of omniscience, that they contained the oracles of divine revelation, and consequently of unerring truth. Thus may we at once reasonably account for the accuracy with which these prophetic songs appear in the Mosaic Scriptures, exhibiting, as they do, certain characteristics of style so widely different from those peculiar to the inspired author of the Pentateuch. The same may be said of the blessings pronounced by Isaac and Jacob, respectively, upon their sons: these were no doubt preserved by the posterities of those patriarchs, and are recorded by the sacred historian in the very terms employed by the persons who delivered them, since they bear full as strong marks of identical originality as the compositions of Balaam.

We can scarcely be surprised that the subjects which inspired the primitive bards, who figure so prominently in the Hebrew Scriptures, should have produced the richest fruits of the poetic art, allied, as poetry frequently is, with the most exalted aspirations of the human mind, and adapted, as it especially is, for the conservation of remarkable events. God and his attributes are the themes which those bards exclusively celebrate-the grandest that language can be employed to adorn, and to the

supreme dignity of which poetry so essentially belongs, as being the most elevated form of expressing lofty sentiments and sublime thoughts. The noblest epics which have elicited the poetic genius of different countries, have been based upon subjects either immediately connected with, or remotely allied to, religion. The authors of the Mahabarat and of the Ramayana, two Hindoo epics of high celebrity and extraordinary magnitude, extending each to several hundred thousand lines, of the Iliad and Odessy, of the Inferno, of the Jerusalem delivered, of Paradise Lost, and of Paradise Regained, have, either directly or consequentially, all made the Deity and his illimitable perfections the subjects of their immortal song. "Poetry," says Herder, “without God is a showy Papyrus without moisture; every system of morals without him is a mere parasitical plant. It makes a flowery display in fine words, and sends forth its branches hither and thither; nay, it insinuates itself into every weak spot and crevice of the human soul; but the sun rises, and it vanishes."

Sacred themes have inspired the greatest poets of almost every age, and of every civilized country where the true God has been adored, the doctrine of redemption promulgated, and the divine attributes avowed. Those sublime themes have called forth the highest intellectual endowments of man, of whom an old poet* has thus quaintly but eloquently sung—

• Sir John Davies, born 1570.