PROFESSOR TENNANT'S HEBREW DRAMAS.

WE have frequently had occasion to remark incidentally upon the causes that contribute to failure in poetical attempts where the subject is derived from Scripture. In the first place, there is the difficulty of rising to the " height of the great argument." If it be all but impossible for a sickly- refined age to attain the true heroic grandeur and simplicity, the task of reaching that tone when still further elevated by an inspired spirit or the visible presence of angelic beings, seems all but hopeless. Again, if the subject be well adapted for poetry, it is perhaps as poetically treated already as it is likely to be. If the incident be historically rather than poetically interesting, it is already forestalled by the popular mind, which has formed in its imagination a conception of the theme that scarcely any execution would gratify. There is the further risk of suggesting a cotnparison between the questionable tales of heathen mythology, when the gods masqueraded upon earth, and the sacred subjects of Scripture, unless the themes be judiciously chosen and treated with a careful skill.

There is a further requisite in Scriptural subjects, which, though not Insuperable, we have never seen attained; and that is the Oriental man- ners. From the remarks and casual pictures of Asiatic travellers, it seems pretty clear that the Biblical customs are still unchanged in the Interior of the country and at those courts which are unfrequented by the Corps diplomatique. Yet Patriarchal and Persian manners are never pre- aented to the mind by the poet as they are suggested by the pages of the traveller. Byron's Orientalism was of "Turkey in Europe"; the gene- rality of other writers merely attain a school-classic kind of air' or make phrases do the office of character and behaviour_ So far as a knowledge of customs can go, Mr. Tennant, as might be expected from a celebrated professor of Oriental literature, is more sufficient than any writer we re- member. He may not have caught the living manners, but touches like these are frequent in his pages.

And now the warrants of the massacre Are written out all fair; and rapid posts, With.up-tnck'd garments, riders on swift steeds, • Mules, camels, and young dromedaries, stand

At every palace-port, equipt for travel, Waiting the sign to start: all, all is ready Nought wanting, save the royal ring apply'd To seal the written death just fled& for flight;

• And for the sealing is this hour appointed."

• The subjects of Mr. Tennant's Hebrew Dramas are Jephthah's Daughter, the story of Esther and Mordecai, and the Destruction of "Sodom. Of these, perhaps, "Jephthah's Daughter" is the most dramatic in character; though the basis of the story is narrow, and more fitted fir the monologue and responsive discourse of an oratorio than the action of a drama: the subject is besides revolting to European feelings, and to be ranked with the Hindoo suttees or superstitions still less excusable. The story of "Esther" is rather narrative than dramatic ; and perhaps no paraphrase could improve the original relation whilst there is a great risk in losing the original Orientalism, and making the policy and re- venge stand out too much, which were only permitted to the chosen people till the Christian dispensation. The main interest of the "Destruc- tion of Sodom" must tarn upon the supernatural appearances that over- whelmed the cities of the Plain. It would be no depreciation of any living genius to say that he was unequal to this theme ; but Mr. Tennant has skilfully introduced the gorgeous rites of idolatrous worship, and suc- ceeded in conveying an idea of the catastrophe, so far as meditation can serve as a substitute for poetical inspiration.

And this is perhaps the character of the volume throughout. In the scenes of deep passion, or strong energy, or supernatural grandeur, Mr. Tennant does as much as knowledge and thought can attain ; and he presents his conceptions in verse which, if wanting the empyrean fire and strength, is more than respectable where mere thought is suf- ficient. In the descriptions of simple nature, and in passages where re- flection is the predominating character, he rises to poetry of a very agreeable if not of a striking kind. His dramatic efforts fail, if judged by the principle of Horace, that poetry admits of no medium. The reader is little moved by scenes Of the deepest pathos and unexcited by what ought to be scenes of stirring action. Indeed, Mr. Tennant seems to have formed a wrong judgment of what dramatic poetry should be. The main scenes that are essential to carry on the action are surrounded by collateral circumstances that might have been going on at the same time, but are so devoid of action that they are really narratives broken up into dialogues, and perhaps too diffuse even for narrative. In a catastrophe of any kind, Mr. Tennant, however, possesses a species Of " business " dexterity, which, though not exactly action has the effect of it. The following account of the death of Jephthah's daughter is not a strict example ; for like the denouement of Samson Agonistes, which Mr. Tennant has °lien in his eye, it is related, not exhibited : but it is as good an instance of the author's dramatic conception as would be 'proper for our pages.

Messenger. Forth from her father's gate thy daughter came, Beaming with beauty and complacency, Amid the people congregated round,

Eager, though deeply struck with awe sad sorrow,

To see the 'victim of her father's vow.

Grief seem'd to touch her cheek, when ahe o'erpased Her father's threshold; a few glancing tears, In memory of her childhood-happiness, Like gems of dew, came trickling from her era: That dear, sweet pang was soon allay'd; and she, With soul angelically calm, and countenance_ Erect, commanding love and admiration, Paged on in her sublimity. Her father,

As by her side he wept: his 's arm

DraggAl, tardily and with difficulty,. hia steps, Downcast, dejected, scarcelitracioterns,

Sustain'd him in his walk. As when the star

Of Morning, up the causeway of the East,

(Soon to be quench'd in Day's arriving. flood) Walks in her ocean-wash'd and burnish'd brightness,

Receiving, in her heavenly motions, blessings

From Araby's glad shepherds—so the maid (Whose light was soon to be extinguish'd) pasa'd In silent* on, saluted by the hearts Of Israel's tens of thousands. Most stood mute, As if in veneration; some aloud Mother with songs, and, in their acclamations,

Shower'd from their tongues rich benedictions on hse. Meanwhile, between her father and his friend,

This on the left, her father on the right,

Graceful she moved toward the appointed place,

The altar of her sacrifice; whereon, High and exposed afar to view, the prieet. Stood in his long white linen stole array'd; The crackling fire burn'd brightly at his side. She reach'd the altar's steps; and, having kba'd Her father, and received his parting blessing, (_Scarce given through floods of weeping,),ae, with :step Untottermg, mounted calmly to the place, The platform of her death and of her glory.

Whereat the men of Israel, now beholding, As staged for the admiration of the world,

Her youth, her beauty, and her dignity., Hush'd as the grave their murmur: Silence chided Their tongues; Suspense, Attention, Pity, Love,

Held fix' their eyes, astonied held their hearts.

At the priest's side she took her station; then,

With eyes advanced to Heaven, and lira ejaculating, Prayers for her father, mother, friends, and countryh

Stood, waiting from the priest the fatal stroke. His hand, unwillingly compliant, shook And falter'd in its task; thrice be essay'd, And thrice was disappointed in the gripe: She with a smile look d down, and seem'd to chide The trepidation of his quivering hand: At last he rear'd the weapon, and, with head Averted, shuddering at his own forced act,

He struck—he struck—

Into her angel-heart!

The following miscellaneous passages will display Ifc Tescutst. is another style.

TUE LAW OF VO'WS.

Priest. In that law Given by the Heaven-taught Moses for our guide, The rashness of the vower enters not

Into the instruction, as of force to change, Affect, or nullify the law's award_

The law enjoins not, recornmendeth not, To any man, entangled howsoe'er In wars or jeopardies, to make such vows

As may infringe upon life's sacredness, Or desolate by death the family circle: But when such vows, how rash soe'er, are made, And are propounded with free voice to Heaven, The pledge, to Heaven proclaim'd, must be fulfdrd: The law is rigid, without reference To wariness or forethought in the vower ; Proclaiming, in its plainness, loud and clear, That every thing devoted is most holy Unto the Lord; that none who is devoted Of men shall be by them redeem'd, but shall Be surely put to death: these are the terms, Clear, simple, unencumber'd with exception, Of our most holy law.

KINGLY MEDITATIONS.

Bedroom in the Persian Palace.

Ahasuerus, (alone, with tapers burning before hies.) Where is thy dwelling, life-repairing Sleep? Host thou a temple in the city Shushan, That I, a king, may search thee out, and court Thy grace, and bribe thy midnight services, With Ophir's gold, and India's pearls, and all The heaps of Cyrus's vast treasure-house? If thou in Shushan haply haet somewhere

Set up thy drowsy., dreaming tabernacle,

I trow, 'us not within the precincts of the palace, Where cares and ay-suspected ambuscades Scare men upon their beds: no, it must be In some poor lane of my metropolis, Where potters, toilworn at their whirling wheel, Arm-exercising smiths, feet-plodding porters,. Vext water-carriers, with their swinging pitchers, And other craftsmen that all day ne er rest,

Rest richly in the night-time : 'um too true—

The son of Xerxes, 'neath his cedar-pillar'd And golden-curtain'd canopy of state, Sleeps beggarly, whilst the poor sandal-maker,

Whom yesterday I spy'd plying his trade, And singing in his booth like nigh e, Sleeps on his thin unbolster'd truss or straw Ev'n as a king should sleep.