knowledge greater than they probably had the means of possessing; but I was more anxious in consulting the advantage of my youthful readers, by leading them on to higher religious views, than in securing to myself the reputation of critical ex

actness.

It will be thought that I have chosen, perhaps, the least important passage in the eventful life of David, for the foundation of the Drama which bears his name. Yet, even in this his first exploit, the sacred historian represents him as exhibiting no mean lesson of modesty, humility, courage, and piety. Many will think that the introduction of Saul's daughter would have added to the effect of the piece; and I have no doubt but that it would have made the intrigue more complicated and amusing had this Drama been intended for the stage. There, all that is tender, and all that is terrible in the passions, find a proper place. But I write for the young, in whom it will be always time enough to have the passions awakened; I write for a class of readers, to whom it is not easy to accommodate one's subject, so as to be at once useful and interesting.

The amiable poet Cowley, after shewing the superiority of the sacred over the profane histories, some instances of which I have noticed in my intro duction, concludes with the following remark,

* It would not be easy, nor perhaps proper, to introduce sacred tragedies on the English stage. The pious would think it profane, while the profane would think it dull. Yet the excellent Racine, in a profligate country and a voluptuous court, ventured to adapt the story of Athalia,' to the French theatre: and it remains to us a glorious monument of its author's courageous piety, while it exhibits the perfection of the dramatic art."

which I may apply to myself with far more propriety than it was used by the author:-"I am far from assuming to myself to have fulfilled the duty of this weighty undertaking; and I shall be ambitious of no other fruit from this weak and imperfect attempt of mine, but the opening of a way to the courage and industry of some other persons, who may be better able to perform it thoroughly and successfully.'

INTRODUCTION.

OH for the sacred energy which struck
The harp of Jesse's son! or for a spark
Of that celestial flame which touch'd the lips
Of blest Isaiah ;* when the seraphim
With living fire descended, and his soul
From sin's pollution purg'd! or one faint ray,
If human things to heavenly I may join,
Of that pure spirit which inflamed the breast
Of Milton, GOD's own poet! when retired,
In fair enthusiastic vision rapt,

The nightly visitant deign'd bless his couch
With inspiration, such as never flow'd
From Acidale or Aganippe's fount!

Then, when the sacred fire within him burnt,
He spake as man or angel might have spoke,
When man was pure, and angels were his guests.
It will not be.-Nor prophet's burning zeal,
Nor muse of fire, nor yet to sweep the strings
With sacred energy, to me belongs :

Nor with Miltonic hand to touch the chords
That wake to ecstasy. From me, alas!
The sacred source of harmony is hid;

The magic powers which catch the ravish'd soul
In melody's sweet maze, and the clear streams
Which to pure Fancy's yet untasted springs
Enchanted lead. Of these I little know!

* Isaiah vi.

Yet, all unknowing, dare THY aid invoke,
Spirit of truth! to bless these worthless lays
No impious is the hope; for thou hast said,
That none who ask in faith should ask in vain.
You I invoke not now, ye fabled Nine !
I not invoke you, though you well were sought
In Greece and Latium, sought by deathless bards,
Whose siren song enchants; and shall enchant,
Through Time's wide-circling round, though false
their faith,

And less than human where the gods they sung. Though false their faith, they taught the best they knew;

And (blush, O Christian!) liv'd above their faith. They would have bless'd the beam, and hail'd the

day,

That chas'd the moral darkness from their souls.
Oh! had their minds receiv'd the clearer ray
Of Revelation, they had learn'd to scorn
Their rites impure, their less than human gods,
Their wild mythology's fantastic maze.

Pure Plato! how had thy chaste spirit hail'd
A faith so fitted to thy moral sense!

What hadst thou felt, to see the fair romance
Of high imagination, the bright dream

Of thy pure fancy, more than realiz'd !

Sublime enthusiast! thou hadst blest a scheme
Fair, good, and perfect. How had thy rapt soul
Caught fire, and burnt with a diviner flame!
For e'en thy fair idea ne'er conceiv'd
Such plenitude of bliss, such boundless love,
As Deity made visible to sense.
Unhappy Brutus! philosophic mind!
Great 'midst the errors of the Stoic school!
How had thy kindling spirit joy'd to find

That thy loved virtue was no empty name :