be showed from his friend, but he forsaketh the fear of the Almighty."*

The pangs of physical or moral pain that day and night excruciate, without relenting a moment, its victim, were never better expressed.

"When I lie down, I say, when shall I arise, and the night be gone? and I am full of tossings to and fro unto the dawning of the day."+

Sometimes he wonders at the eagerness and perseverance with which God seems to persecute him: for his days are vanity. What shall we do to soften down God's wrath? He frankly confesses his sins, although often he scarcely can recognise them, in the admirable confusion of his thoughts. If he has erred, it is unwillingly.

The poem is four thousand years old, and when we want to describe the shortness of this wretched life, we are obliged to borrow again ideas and images from the same author.

"My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle and are spent without hope." And elsewhere: " Man that is born of a woman is of few days and full of trouble. He cometh forth like a flower and is cut down: he fleeth also as a shadow and continueth not." ||

The twenty-ninth and thirtieth chapters joined together form the sixth and undoubtedly the most beautiful of Job's elegies. This holy man, broken down by the most acute pains, deserted by every one, irritated by Eliphaz and Baldaad, navigates back in fancy up the banks of time: he finds in the treasure of his life, quite full of glory and virtuous deeds, comforting souveners which he opposes to his sufferings, his forlorn state, unjust suspicions, to the hardheartedness of his false friends; and the reader is moved in beholding one who has been so virtuous, exposed to so many hardships. No one ever experienced the like, never consequently did elegy breathe out so energetic complaints. Therefore all the mysteries of pain are revealed and deeply scrutinized, and Job's heart is unravelled in a state of nakedness, with

* Job vi. 14. § Job. vii. 6.

nothing but his innocence, his weakness, his sensibleness, his strength and inexhaustible patience.

Sometimes words of anger and indignation increase the bitterness of complaints extracted by pain, but a constant sadness forms ever the principal turn of those six compositions, and this is quite enough for them to be claimed by elegy as belonging to her department. Those hymns are sung in worship places on the day of affliction. It would appear then as if celestial phalanxes, called down by Job's strains, hurriedly range themselves around the dying man, to comfort and convey him from this place of banishment to his real abode.

Heder, who judged by an able and most celebrated writer,** " has better expressed than any one else the genius of that people of Prophets, to whom inspiration was but an intimate relation with a Deity." Heder says that this book, written and not translated in Hebrew, cannot, as some critics did insinuate, belong to Moses, because the character of its poetical part affords a striking analogy with that of the poetry of the Arabians, and because the author describes patriarchal manners and habits, which it was impossible for the legislator of the Hebrews to have known in Ægypt.

It is certainly a very difficult task, if not impossible, to prove that the book of Job is a work belonging to Moses, but the reason alleged by Herder is not decisive enough, because Moses, during his stay at Jethros', was liable to get an acquaintance of Arabian or at least Nomades manners.

However be the writer whom we are indebted to for this admirable epic poem who he may, we must in truth say, that he described himself, and most pathetically breathed out the expression of his grief in his hymns:

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My harp is tuned to mourning, and my organ into the voice of them that weep."tt

The editor of Heder's works says he delighted in reading them, and the

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pathetic picture of the evils and sufferings which Job was groaning under, drew his tears out.* "Where shall I seek thee?" exclaims that illustrious orientalist, in some stanzas full of sublimity and rapture ; "Where shall I find thy tomb, O sublime poet; thou faithful trustee of the advices of God, the thoughts of men and the ministry of angels? Thy sight extends all over heaven and earth. Alternatively pathetic and sublime, thy genius sighs with the afflicted in the kingdom of tears. And swifter than light it soars high above the wonders of creation Is thy tomb still shadowed by an evergreen cypress? or is it unknown as thy cradle? Thou hast at least left an immortal monument of thy transit on earth, and certainly thou art singing around the throne of the universe together with the morning stars."+

Heder is animated with the same enthusiasm when his mind wanders among the prophets: he does not speak, he sings. A vulgar language would be unfit for his thoughts; therefore he borrows the strains of those poets-of those preceptors and revealers of an

cient times, and to use his own saying of those harps, the trustees and interpreters of the Deity. He sees with the eyes of fancy those singers living in palm trees, woods, and enjoying that unalterable peace which was not given them by Zion, Horeb, and Carmel. He perceives them mixed up, without confusion, with the Druids, with Pythagoras, Orpheus, Socrates, Plato, and all those who, incited by their example, were the legislators and fathers of nations, and after they had atten tively listened to the voice of God, spread all over the world the wisdom God had poured into their soul. It is particularly, when one has read the several inspired passages that are to be met with in Heder's essay on the genius of Hebrew poetry, such as Job's stanzas, the odes of the prophets, and the elegy of Habakuk, that one feels as Madame de Staël,

Xenophon, in the Anabasis, gives an account of Cyrus's journey through Asia Minor. He went, with some Greeks, from Sardis to Colossæ in four stages (araboi), crossing the river Mæander on his route, and pretending to advance against the Pisidians. At Colossæ, he was joined by Meno the Thessalian, after which he proceeded to Celœnce, a large, populous and thriving city near the sources of the Mæander and Marsyas, which latter river flowed through the town. At this place both Cyrus and the King of Persia had palaces, and Cyrus remained there a month, probably waiting for the remainder of his Greek troops, who are said to have joined him here. Having reviewed the Greeks in his park, he went to Peltæ two stages, thence to the market-place of the Kerami (Kigau 'ayogás) two stages, and thence three stages to the plain of Cayster (sis Kaurrgov widíov) an inhabited town. Here he remained for five days, during which he was visited by the Queen of Cilicia, who appears to have brought him money, with which he paid his troops. He then advanced two stages to Thymbrium, thence two more to Tyricum, where he reviewed his barbarian, as well as his Greek forces. He then advanced to Icomum, the furthest town of Phrygia, and having passed through Lycaonia, which he gave up to plunder, came to Dana on the confines of Cilicia.

This progress of Cyrus is represented in the maps published by some editors of the work as a direct course, but which editors must have given the subject very little attention. D'Anville and other geopraphers have ascertained that Pelta was situated north of Celæence, with mountains intervening, and that the market-place of the Kerami, which Xenophon expressly says was in Mysia, was on the river Langarius or a branch of it, northwards of Peltæ. According to D'Anville, the plain of the Cayster was in north Phrygia, eastwards of the Kerami, whilst Thymbrium lay to the south of it; so that

Cyrus first marched considerably to the north from Celance and then turned southwards without any apparent cause when his avowed object was to attack the Pisidians and Lycaonians, who were to the south of Asia Minor, and his real one to get through the passes of Cilicia before his brother could stop him. The author of a map to illustrate Cyrus's march, in Thomson's Ancient Atlas, supposes the plain of Cayster nearly east of Celonce, but this removes no difficulty, for why should Cyrus go north to the Kerami, where he appears to have had no business and certainly made no stay, to return at once to the line of march from which he had departed? Another difficulty is, that the plain of the Cayster would be naturally supposed to be near the river of that name which passed by Ephesus; and accordingly we find in Stephen of Byzantium Καστριονῆ πεδιόν τῆς Ἐφεσίας, but Diodorus Siculus (xiv. 80.) places it near Sipylus in Ionia between Sardis and the sea, and Xenophon himself in the Cyropædia makes it the place for assembling the forces of the King of Phrygia Minor, when preparing to join the enemies of Cyaxares.

To remove the difficulty Palmerius suggested that plain of Castolus should be read instead of plain of Cayster, and Mannert conjectured Kiorov idio near Sagalassus; but the plain of Castolus is generally considered to have been near Sardis, and Sagalassus is south of Celance. So that the difficulty would still remain, why should Cyrus march so far northwards to Kerami? Let us now attend to a circumstance which may throw some light on the subject. Xenophon mentions twice in the Anabasis that Cyrus had been made Satrap of Lydia, Phrygia, and Cappadocia, and also General of all the troops that assembled at the plain of Castolus. Hence it appears that it was a place of rendezvous for all the troops of the adjacent provinces; and if we suppose it to be situated in Galatia and the place here intended, then Cyrus had appointed his barbarian forces to assemble

there, and went to join them, having had only Greeks with him before, for though he had a review at Celcence, there is no mention of the barbarians, whilst they are repeatedly mentioned after his being at the plain of the Cayster. Such a place where troops were annually assembled would of course have a town connected with it, which might bear its name, and also a residence for the Commander-in-Chief, as bugas seems more applicable to a house than to a mere tent, and Xenophon uses that word in speaking of Cyrus's residence there. A plain somewhere in Galatia, about the spot where D'Anville has placed the plain of Cayster, was then Cyrus's first object, after which he proceeded to the southward on his intended expedition. If Castolus be the proper reading, it would remove all difficulty, because this was the usual place of assembling, and as the Queen of Cilicia

would know that Cyrus was under the necessity of going there, it was naturally the place to which she would direct her course, though further from Cilicia than many other places he had to pass through. But even supposing Cayster the true reading, and that D'Anville is right in placing it in Galatia and the plain of Castolus in Lydia, Cyrus might have appointed a place of assembling different from the usual one. In either case, it accounts for his northern course, which otherwise seems unaccountable.

This perhaps is one of those trifling discussions, which Lucian would have called xgohoyía, yet in reading ancient writers most persons wish to remove such difficulties when they occur, and if such discussions do not occupy too much time, they may be useful in fitting us for the discussion of more important subjects.

To this passage Le Clerc (in his Parrhasiana) objects very strongly, on the ground that Virgil should not have represented the pious Eneas as guilty of such an act of cruel revenge. The commentators, in general, defend it as an imitation of Homer, who makes Achilles perform a similar human sa crifice at the tomb of Patroclus. Heyne, however, while he admits this excuse for his author, implies some censure on such imitation, as being carried too far. The character of Eneas is so unlike that of Homer's hero, that we cannot consider the objection of Le Clerc, or the censure of Heyne, as in any degree

weakened by the above attempt to soften the cruelty of the Trojan hero. But Le Clerc proceeds farther, and points out, as an additional fault in Virgil, that this cruel sacrifice was so inconsistent with the mild and forgiving temper of Augustus, and the polished manners of his court, with which the poet was so well acquainted, and of which he was himself such a disguished ornament, that it was a great oversight in Virgil to attribute such cruelty to the founder of the Roman state, and the pious ancestor of the Julian race. That the poet was not guilty of an oversight, but of an artful