But, while I am thus wandering, the men of Jabesh-gilead seem to be forgotten. This would be too shameful an act of oblivion. It shall not pass; for they deserve a long and honourable memorial.

The inhabitants of the above oriental village, are introduced, with some abruptness, to the acquaintance of the student of the book of Samuel. At the very bottom of the first volume of the prophecy, in a kind of postscript to the work, is found the narrative of the funereal rites paid to the family of Saul. Not the smallest reason appears for this posthumous service. On the contrary, it looks not only odd, but unmerited, and even impious. For, during whole pages, immediately preceding this circumstance, we find nothing but a shameful catalogue of Saul's crimes. To bitter envy of the favoured David's talents, he adds a contempt of the ordinances of the Supreme Being, and neglect of the mandates of his prophets. In a nocturnal visit to the enchantress of Endor, he employs infernal and necromantic arts, to disturb the repose of the tomb; and concludes a life of violence, cruelty, and madness, by an act of suicide. One would suppose that, in those holy times, the bones of so bad a man

would long have been suffered to whiten the Mount of Gilboa; and that not even a common sepulture would have been indulged to a body, prematurely destroyed by an irreligious prince. Here is a mystery; and on the first view of the inhabitants of Jabeshgilead, in mourning weeds, under "the wall of Bethshan," we are astonished at their zeal for the interment of this monarch. That all the valiant men of a respectable district should arise, and hasten by night to Bethshan; which, it must be observed, was a hostile city in Philistia; that they should take the bones of one, whom heaven had abandoned, and who had been his own destroyer; that they should expose themselves to the chance of death, or capture, in an enemy's country; that, mocking this terror, and even the still greater one of the vengeance of the skies, they should take the remains of the flagitious Saul, and " with dirges due, and sad array," follow them to the humble morai of primæval burial, and deposit them "under a tree" of their own groves; and that the poignancy of their grief should be such as to induce a fast of seven days; all these circumstances are, apparently, the incidents of wild romance, or like the adventures of the Venetian

Moor. They are "strange, passing strange." But let us develop the occult cause of this conduct, and inquire whether these "mourners, going about the streets" of Bethshan, cannot be justified, nay, admired. As they are all valiant men, it is hard to suppose that so shining a virtue as courage, should be disgraced by mad and vicious companions. Bravery, like the son of Tobias, is "of a good stock," and when you tell me of a good soldier, I look to see him invested, not only with the gorget and sash of military splendour, but with the more lustrous ornament of the manly virtues; the mantle of charity, and the breast-plate of right

eousness.

Whether this expectation is generally realized or not, it is fully so in the case of these valiant men of the east; and, as will immediately appear, their conduct, as simply described by the holy narrator, presents one of the most affecting and honourable instances of political and personal gratitude, to be found in the immense tablet of historical composition.

In the eleventh chapter of Samuel, we find a clue, that guides us, at once, through the labyrinth of the above mystery. At the commence

ment of Saul's reign, Nahash, a prince of the house of Ammon, whose trade was rapine and blood, waged war with Jabesh-gilead. Its inhabitants propose a treaty of peace, which the haughty invader cruelly proposes to clog with the sanguinary and infamous condition of the extinction of their right eyes. Whether in that early period of their history, the inhabitants were few, defenceless, and incapable of opposing a formidable foe; or their senators, like those which have composed and disgraced more modern councils, were willing to yield to ignominious exaction, is not ascertained. But whether weakness or baseness predominated, it is known that the elders of the country implored the truce of a week; and, meanwhile, Saul is apprized of their calamitous situation. His subjects wept, and the monarch sympathized. Indignation at the wrongs of his neighbours, and pity for their misfortunes, dictated a summary and gallant process. marches against, and defeats the Ammonites, and the men of Jabesh retain their freedom.

He

They were the ancestors of that weeping band, whom we have seen performing a solemn office to the dead. It was during the youth of

M

Saul, that he avenged the men of Jabesh upon the Ammonites. Many years had elapsed since this brilliant military exploit, which preserved the eyes and independence of a threatened people. Saul had degenerated from the virtues of his youth, had lost the confidence of an inspired mentor, had forfeited the favour of heaven, had surrendered himself up to vice, had lost an army, and, to add to his disgrace, it was by Philistine soldiers he was conquered, had lost three sons, and, finally, losing hope itself, had fallen on his own sword. He is prone on the mountains of Gilboa, without a friend to close his eyes:

"Fallen from his high estate,

And weltering in his blood."

Those whom he had rescued from the Ammonites are all as lifeless as he. Then who is there to mourn for Saul and Jonathan? It was the descendants of those, whom Saul had once protected. For, when this grateful race heard the melancholy tidings of the defeat and death of the deliverer of their ancestors, what was their arrangement? Was it oblivious of a re