mistaking the position of Chus, or Asiatic Ethiopia, and from confounding it with African Æthiopia, more generally known by this name.

Sir Walter Ralegh has so well explained this matter, that his words are worth quoting. "After the flood," says he, "Cush and his children never rested till they found the valley of Shinah, in which, and near which, himself and his sons first inhabited. Havila took the river side of Tigris chiefly on the east, which, after his own name, he called Havila (now Susiana); Raamah and Sheba further down the river: at the entrance of Arabia Felix, Nimrod seated himself in the best of the valley, where he built Babel, whereof that region had afterwards the name of Babylonia. Chus himself and his brother Mizraim first kept upon Gehon, which falleth into the lakes of Chaldea, and, as their people increased, they drew themselves more westerly towards the Red, or Arabian Sea, from whence Mizraim past over into Egypt, in which part the Cushites remained for many years after."

The name of the third river is Hiddekel (a turbid river), or the Tigris, which goeth east of Assyria. And the fourth river is the Euphrates, so called from its eruptive violence.

It is very important to observe how closely the Mosaic account of the original glory and disastrous fall of several orders of lapsed intelligences, and in particular the sacred histories respecting the golden age of man in Paradise his pure communion with the divine powers-the sublime condition of his faith and obedience-his seduction by infernal subtlety working on his self-esteem and ambition-his expulsion from Eden, and his exposure to all the ills that flesh is heir to-have been found to coincide with all the discoveries hitherto made respecting the mythological initiations, secret philosophy, and chronological and geographical traditions of all Gentile nations.

The study of this comparative evidence of the truth of revelation, throws astonishing light on the obscurer passages of Scripture. The reader may collect its buried fragments from very recondite and scattered sources of information. He may, for instance, derive some assistance from Kircher, Gale, Cudworth, Ramsay, Shuckford, Dupuis, Gebelin, More, Delaulnaye, Phanner, Burigne, Panza, Meursius, Rocher, Taylor, Beausobre, Reuchlin, Rosler, Creuzer, Pierius, Fludd, Agrippa, Helpen, Bryant, Oliver, Bridges, and Davies.

It is not to be supposed that a subject so full of intense interest as the glory of all created minds, the fall of angels, and the fall of man, should long be left unoccupied by the prophet bards and poets of Judah. It was evidently the first and most fascinating theme of their meditations and their songs; on it they exhausted their whole power of research and imagination, and their success is testified by a thousand passages of resplendent and imperishable verse, more or less masked by allegorical and hieroglyphic imagery, which still excite the veneration and gratify the sagacity of the student.

The early fathers of the Christian Church, some of them the most eloquent of men, were likewise distinguished by poetic honors, as might have been expected. They discoursed on these august mysteries of their religion with the demonstration of the Spirit and the power of reason, and thereto they added the glowing decorations of the muse. Augustin. Ephraim, Gregory, Prudentius, Nonnus, and the "Poetæ Christiani" of

Greece and Rome, were much engaged in the severe defence of their faith, by forcible dialectics and practical arts, but these did not hinder them from doing justice to the poetic splendors of Christianity.

Among the Christian fathers who arrayed the fall of Adam with poetical imagery, was St. Avitus, early in the sixth century. He wrote a poem, in three parts, entitled "De Origine Mundi, de Originali Peccato, and de Sententia Dei." The learned M. Guizot has lately brought these compositions into notice, and instituted a parallel between them and Milton's "Paradise Lost," which he thinks in some measure derived from them. In "Blackwood's Magazine" for March, 1838, this question is discussed with much ingenuity and candour.

The classic genius of the gentiles was yet more successful in investing these sublime doctrines of theology, so far as they understood them, by the aid of vague traditions, with the pomp of enthusiastic fancy, and the ornament of dazzling verse. It is no less profitable than pleasing to observe the progress of these traditions as they came into the hands of the gentile bards, dim and confused, and thence issued forth clad in the gorgeous apparel of fiction, passion, and rhapsody.

These grand themes of poetic genius continued to sow the seeds of future song in the mystical dramas and romantic legends connected with the initiations of the middle ages; and though long bewailed as dead and extinct, that seed retained an essential vitality not to be destroyed by violence, barbarism, or ignorance. It sprang up like a strong plant with the revival of letters, and with the outburst of universal reformation. It would be idle to notice very particularly the earliest compositions in the classical or modern languages relating to the fall of man. The first Latin poem of note on this subject, is the Protogonus of Anysius, a tragedy; the hero of which is Adam. This was published in 1535, in quarto, and was very celebrated in its day, though now little known.

The next writer of eminence on the same topic, was Zieglerus, who wrote two Latin tragedies, Protoplastis and Samson Agonistes, published

in 1550.

Another writer, who followed in the same path, was Du Bartas, who wrote about 1580, a long poem in French, entitled the "Weeks of the Creation"-being a sort of poetic commentary on the earlier chapters of Genesis. This work was published with extensive annotations, and became exceedingly popular on the continent. It was translated into English by that most fantastical of all versifiers, Sylvester. The notes were likewise translated by another hand.

A little after, in 1593, our English poet, Hunis, or Hunnis, the translator of the Psalms, published a tragedy, entitled "Adam's Banishment;"

which we have not met with.

Such were the compositions extant in the boyhood of Hugo Grotius, who was born at Delft, 1583-educated under the famous Francis Junius, at Leyden, in the profound study of the Scriptures, according to the Biblical commentators of his time-skilled in all the critical and varied scholarship of classical literature, and familiarized with the best compositions of the modern writers; he availed himself of his treasured resources to an extent never before equalled.

The mind of Grotius was naturally of a deeply devotional kind, and peculiarly inclined to meditate on those primary and transcendent mys

teries of theology and philosophy so shrewdly discussed and elaborated in that metaphysical age. But his intelligence was of too bold and stalwarth a cast ever to succumb beneath the burden of abstract perplexities, or lose itself in mazes of speculative difficulty. He had that within him which could detect the hidden principle of verity beneath the cloud of superincumbent mysticism-which could follow out the golden thread of truth amid all the labyrinths of argument-grasp the only tangible and palpable forms which casuistical subtleties ever assumed-and then apply them with a curious felicity of common sense to the practical affairs of life.

But it is not our business to celebrate Grotius for his divinity, his philosophy, his jurisprudence, or his classical attainments. All these are already well known to the public. We must here confine our attention to his poetical productions, with which he seems to have amused his majestic mind from infancy to old age:-for his first sacred poems were printed at Leyden before he was 16, and he continued to write miscellaneous verses through his whole life.

Having, doubtless, in the course of his studious education, read most of the ancient and modern compositions on the Fall of Man, it appeared to him that this subject was one of the fittest possible for a noble tragedy or epic, and that nothing worthy of its sublimity had ever yet been written.

Accordingly, at the age of 18, he composed the tragedy "Adamus Exul," which we have now translated. "Grotius (says Burigny, his biographer) did not confine himself to small pieces of verse-he rose to tragedy. We have three tragedies written by him. The first was 'Adamus Exul.' He sent it to Lipsius, who liked it, and it was printed at Leyden in 1601; and again in a collection of his sacred poems, printed in quarto at the Hague, 1610. His two other tragedies, the Christus Patiens,' and the Sophromphaneas,' are published in the general collection of his poems. These were translated by Vondel into Dutch; and by Sandys and Goldsmith into English."

Whether Grotius was dissatisfied or not with this tragedy of " Adamus Exul," the leading scholars of his time were delighted with it. It called forth the panegyric and complimentary verses of Vossius, Heinsius, Dousa, Potteius, Mersius, and others, now to be found collected in the Grotii Poemata, and excited very general admiration throughout Europe. It was more or less imitated by Andreini, 1613-by Ramsay, 1633— by Masenius, 1650-and by other Latin, Italian, German, French, and English poets, who followed in the same track.

But by none was it so closely followed, so admirably emulated and improved upon as by our Milton. The mind of Milton, originally resembling that of Grotius in many of its leading characteristics, was, like his, familiarized with scriptural, classic, and modern literature-like his, tried and harassed by the ecclesiastical, political, and literary contests of the age. The first geniuses of their respective countries, "born for whatever was arduous," too independent to press themselves into the patronage of the nations they made glorious-too proud to ask the political rewards they merited; it was their fate to receive the honors from foreigners which were withheld by their jealous fellow-countrymen. Such were the causes of their sympathy. For Grotius, Milton acknow

ledged a veneration and an emulous regard he vouchsafed to no other modern. With Grotius, he sympathised deeply from his earliest years; he neglected not to visit him on the continent, and gloried in his friendship as long as he lived.

It is clear, that, like Grotius, Milton also was eminently skilled in theological science, in all the cabalistic and mythological initiations, and philosophical learning of antiquity. This has been sufficiently proved by Birch, Newton, and the author of the essay on "Milton's Use of the Ancients."

But it was not to the ancients only that Milton was indebted: he availed himself equally of the moderns; and without doubt the " Adamus Exul" of Grotius furnished Milton with that seed of thought and passion which afterwards bloomed out in that " bright consummate flower," the "Paradise Lost."

Much as we detest the name of Lauder, literary justice obliges us to give that unhappy gentleman his due, which he has not yet received. He was one of the first who perceived the high probability of Milton's obligation to Grotius and the modern Latin poets. And never yet did author more cunningly combine truth and falsehood than Lauder. His learning generally enabled him to prove at least half his point, and imposture supplied all that was wanting in evidence.

Lauder was a Scotchman, a Latin schoolmaster, and a literary adventurer. In reading the first act of the " Adamus Exul," and other modern Latin poems, he could hardly fail to perceive the frequent use which Milton, conversant as he was with all curious and ingenious literature, naturally made of them,

About the year 1750, Lauder wrote some articles in the "Gentleman's Magazine," stating his discoveries. These exciting some attention, and winning the approbation of Dr. Johnson, he was induced, in the same year, to publish an Essay, entitled "An Essay on Milton's Use and imitation of the Moderns in Paradise Lost." In this work, finding his materials deficient, he unhappily endeavoured to supply the defect of his authorities by drawing largely on his own latinity.

In this Essay, in which he quotes the first Act of "Adamus Exul," Lauder says, "In Birche's Life of Milton is the copy of a manuscript in his own hand-writing, found at Trinity College, Cambridge, which contains the name of Grotius's "Adamus Exul, or Adam Unparadised or in Banishment." "This tragedy" (continues Lauder) "though it passed through no less than four editions, was never yet printed among the rest of the author's works, and was so exceedingly scarce, that I could not procure a copy either in Britain or Holland, till the learned Mr. Abraham Gronovius, keeper of the public library at Leyden, after great enquiry, obtained the sight of one, and, as I have been sometime honored with his correspondence and friendship, sent me (transcribed by his own son) the first act of it, and afterwards the rest, together with the dedication, addressed to the Duke of Bourbon.

Now as Mr. Fenton" (continues Lauder) "as well as Mr. Phillips, Milton's nephew, informs us that Paradise Lost' was first written, or intended to be written, in the form of a tragedy, wherein Satan was to pronounce the prologue, the judicious reader will perceive the probability of Milton's availing himself of this literary treasure. In self-defence, I

shall, if encouraged by the public, hereafter publish the whole tragedy in the original Latin."

This promise Lauder afterwards fulfilled, and in 1752, published his "Delectus Auctorum Sacrorum Miltono Facem prælucentium;" containing the "Adamus Exul" of Grotius, and Ramsay's "Poemata Sacra." Having procured Dr. Parr's copy of this work, now become very scarce,--being personally assured by the late Mr. Heber that it was a faithful copy of the original editions, which, he said, he had in his own library-and having carefully examined the internal evidences, the translator has no doubt respecting the authenticity of this tragedy. Nor has its genuineness, thus confirmed by various authorities, ever been disproved by Bishop Douglas, or other writers, who detected so many forgeries in other publications of Lauder.

In translating it, we have endeavoured to retain as much of the spirit and sense of the original as is consistent with poetical sentiment and expression. On the whole, it will be found no unjust representation of the original, though we have here and there taken the liberty to insert a few explanatory lines, and sometimes to contract that redundancy of detailed descriptions, now considered superfluous.

By thus bringing this most celebrated Tragedy to light, after its long eclipse, we hope to supply that necessary link in the series of Milton's authorities, which has hitherto been held a desideratum. If we have been at all successful in transfusing the genius and style of the original into the translation, the reader can hardly fail to perceive that religious sublimity, that moral thoughtfulness, that intellectual urgency, and manly simplicity, so strikingly characteristic of Grotius and Milton, and so miserably deficient in the poetry of the present day.

This peculiarity is well described by Professor Wilson :-" In Milton, (says he) the power of poetry seemed to expire; not merely because no voice like his was heard when his own voice had ceased, but because the very purposes of poetry seemed to be changed, and the demesnes of verse to be subjected to other faculties, and the sceptre past into unlineal hands, Milton, like his great predecessors, drew his poetry from the depths of his own spirit-brooding over nature and life-standing between the worlds of nature and man-and chaunting to men the voice of his visions —a strain that, like a bright reflection of lovely imagery, discloses to the minds of others the glories and perfections that fell beautiful and numberless on his own. The great difference between the poetry of Milton and that of our own day, is the severe obedience to an intellectual law which governed his mind in composition. The study of his poetry would be as much a work of exact intellectual analysis as that of the logical writings of Aristotle. It is evident that he was not satisfied with great conception it was not enough that language yielded her powerful words to invest those conceptions with a living form. But he knew that when he wrote he practised an intellectual art-that both the workings of imagination, and the vivid impression of speech, must be reduced to an order satisfying to the intelligence. And hence, in his boldest poetry, in the midst of wonder and astonishment, we never feel for a moment that reason is shaken from his sovereignty over the actions of the mind. We are made to feel, on the contrary, that her prevailing overruling power rises in strength and majesty as all the powers that are subject to