ILLUSTRATED ARTICLE. SALATHIEL, THE WANDERING JEW. CONSIDERABLE time has elapsed since a work made its appearance equal in talent and interest to that which has just been given to the admirers of powerful writing and glowing description, bearing the title of "Salathiel, or a story of the Past, Present, and Future," from the pages of which we have selected a portion by way of extract, which we hope with its striking illustration will be favourably received by our readers. The passage chosen from the work is the interview which took place between Salathiel, the hero of the tale, and Gessius Florus, the Procurator of Cæsarea, for the Emperor Nero Claudius Cæsar, into whose power he had been entrapped. It is, perhaps, necessary that we should make our readers acquainted with the general nature of the story. Briefly, then, it is as follows: "" Salathiel, the hero, is a Jewish Priest, and a man of considerable eminence among his countrymen. At the condemnation of our Saviour, he was among the foremost who hastened VOL. I. S See Page 259. the Judgment, and who demanded his Crucifixion. Standing before Pilate, he threatened, with his associates in the priesthood to denounce him as the enemy of Cæsar, if he refused to pass the sentence; the demand was granted; but as the victim was led away to sacrifice, Salathiel heard a voice indescribably awful_exclaim, TARRY THOU, TILL I COME.' From that moment, his spirit became bowed under a load of withering fearful misery,-the anticipated woe of an almost interminable futurity-the dead weight of an existence, from which hope and love would be departed long before its termination. He fled Jerusalem in horror, his wife and daughters accompanied him in his flight; and, through many subsequent years, his mysterious sufferings were only relieved by the active part he took in the fearful contests that ensued between the Romans and his degraded countrymen. During these he became one of the most celebrated Jewish leaders, obtained successes over the enemy that promised the most glorious results, and underwent sufferings in which he seemed supported only that the doom of perpetual existence might be ful 17-SATURDAY, MAY 3, 1828. filled." One of the adventures that befel Salathiel is the following "At length the feast was at an end. I was summoned, and for the first time saw Gessius Florus, a little bloated figure, with a countenance that to the casual observer was the model of gross goodnature, a twinkling eye, and a lip on the perpetual laugh. His bald forehead wore a wreath of flowers, and his tunic and the couch on which he lay breathed perfume. The table before him was a long vista of sculptured cups, and the golden vases and candelabra. I am sorry to have detained you so long,' said he, but this was the emperor's birth-day, and as good subjects, we have kept it accordingly.' "During this speech, he was engaged in contemplating the wine-bubbles as they sparkled above the brim of a large amethystine goblet. A pale and delicate Italian boy, sumptuously dressed, the only one of the guests who remained, perceiving that I was fatigued, filled a cup, and presented it. Right, Septimius,' said the debauchee, make the Jew drink the Emperor's health. The youth bowed gracefully before me, and again offered the cup, but the time was not for indulgence, and I laid it on the table. 'Here's long life and glory to Nero Claudius Cæsar, our pious, merciful, and invincible emperor,' cried Florus; and only when he had drunk to the bottom of the goblet, found leisure to look upon his prisoner. He either felt or affected surprise, and turning to his young companion, said, by Hercules, boy, what grand fellows those Jews make! The helmet is nothing to the turban, after all. What magnificence of beard! no Italian chin has the vigour to grow any thing so superb; then, the neck, like the bull of Milo; and those blazing eyes! If I had but a legion of such spearsmen' "I grew impatient, and said, 'I stand here, procurator, in your bonds-I demand why?-I have business that requires my instant attention; and I desire to be gone.' Now, have I treated you so inhospitably,' said he, laughing, that you expect I shall finish by shutting my doors upon you at this time of night?' He glanced upon his tablets, and read my name. Aye,' said he, and after I have been so long wishing for the honour of your company. Jew, take your wine, and sit down upon that couch, and tell me what brought you to Cæsarea.' "I told him briefly the circumstances. He roared with laughter, desired me to repeat them, and swore that by all the gods it was the very best piece of pleasantry he had heard since he set foot in Judea. I stood up in irrepressible indignation. 'What!' said he, will you go without hearing my story in return?' He filled his goblet again to the brim, buried his purple visage in a vase of roses, and having inhaled the fragrance, and chosen an easy posture, said, coldly, Jew, you have told me a most excellent story; and it is only fair that I should tell you one in return; not half so amusing, I admit, but to the full as true. Jew, you are a traitor!' "I started back.-Jew,' said he, 'you must in common civility hear me out. The truth is, that your visit has been so often anticipated and so long delayed, that I cannot bear to part with you yet;-you are an apostate; you encourage those Christian dogs. Why does the man stare? you are in communication with rebels; and I might have had the honour of meeting you in the field, if you had not been in my hands in Cæsarea.' "He pronounced those words of death in the most tranquil tone; not a muscle moved: the cup which he held brimful in his hand never overflowed. 666 Jew,' said he, now be honest, and so far set an example to your nation. Where is the money that has been gathered for this rebellion? You are too sagacious a soldier to think of going to war without the main spring of the machine.' "I scorned to deny the intended insurrection; but money I had collected none.' "" Then' said he, you are now compelling me to do what I do not like. Ho! guard!' A soldier presented himself. Desire that the rack shall be got ready.' The man retired. "You see, Jew, this is all your own doing. Give up the money, and I give up the rack. And the surrender of the coin is asked, merely in compassion to yourselves, for without it you cannot rebel, and the more you rebel, the more you will be beaten." "Beware, Gessius Florus,' I exclaim ed, 'beware, I am your prisoner, entrapped, as I now see, by a villain, or by the greater viilain who corrupted him. You may rack me if you will; you may insult my feelings; tear my flesh; take my life: but for this there will be retribution. Through Upper Galilee, from Tiberias to the top of Libanus, this act of blood will ring, and be answered by blood. I have kinsmen, many; countrymen, myriads A single wrench of my sinews may lift a hundred thousand arms against your city, and leave of yourself nothing but the remembrance of your crimes.' ، "He bounded from his couch: the native fiend flashed out in his countenance: I waited his attack, with my hand on the poniard within my sash. My look probably deterred him; for he flung himself back again, and bursting into a loud laugh, exclaimed; bravely spoken. Septimius, we must send the Jew to Rome to teach our orators. Aye, I know Upper Galilee too well, not to know that rebellion is more easily raised there than the taxes. And it was for that reason, that I invited you to come to Cæsarea. In the midst of your tribe capture would have cost half a legion; here a single jailor will do the business. Ho! guard!" he called aloud. I heard the screwing of the rack in the next room, and unsheathed the poniard. The blade glittered in his eyes. Septimius came between us, and tried to turn the procurator's purpose. "Let your guard come,' cried I, ' and, by the sacredness of the Temple, one of us dies. I will not live to be tortured, or you shall not live to see it.' "If the door had opened, I was prepared to dart upon him. Well,' said he, after a whispered expostulation from Septimius, you must go and settle the matter with the Emperor. The fact is, that I am too tender-hearted to govern such a nation of dagger-bearers. So, to Nero! If we cannot send the Emperor money, we will at least send him men.' He laughed vehemently at the conception; ordered the singing and dancing slaves to return; called for wine, and plunged again into his favourite cup. Septimius rose, and led me into another chamber. I remonstrated against the injustice of my seizure. He lamented it, but said that the orders from Rome were strict, and that I was denounced by some of the chiefs in Jerusalem as the head of the late insurrection, and the projector of a new one. The procurator, he added, had been for some time anxious to get me into his power without raising a disturbance among my tribe; the treachery of my domestic had been employed to effect this; and now,' concluded he, my best wish for you-a wish prompted by motives of which you can form no conjecture, is, that you may be sent to Rome. Every day that sees you in Cæsarea sees you in the utmost peril. At the first rumour of insurrection your life will be the sacrifice." "But my family! What will be their feelings! Can I not at least acquaint them with my destination?' "It is impossible. And now, to let you into a state secret, the Emperor had ordered that you should be sent to Rome. Florus menaced, only to extort money. He now knows you better, and would gladly enlist you in the Roman_cause. This I know to be hopeless. But I dread his caprice, and shall rejoice to see the sails hoisted that are to carry you to Rome. Farewell: your family shall have due intelligence.' He was at the door of the chamber, but suddenly returned, and pressing my hand, said again, Farewell, and remember that neither all Romans, nor even all Greeks, may be alike!' He then with a graceful obeisance left the room. 66 Fatigue hung with a leaden weight upon my eyelids. I tried vain expedients to keep myself from slumber in this perilous vicinage. The huge silver chandelier, that threw a blaze over the fretted roof, began to twinkle before me; the busts and statues gradually mingled, and I was once more in the land of visions. Home was before my eyes. I was suddenly tossed the ocean. upon I stood before Nero, and was addressing him with a formal harangue, when the whole tissue was broken up, by a sullen voice commanding me to rise. A soldier, sword in hand, was by the couch; he pointed to the door, where an armed party were in attendance, and informed me that I was ordered for immediate embarkation. "It was scarcely past midnight; the stars were still in their glory; the pharos threw a long line of flame on the waters; the city sounds were hushed; and silent as a procession to the grave, we moved down to where the tall vessel lay rocking with the breeze. At her side a Nubian slave put a note into my hand; it was from the young Roman, requesting my acceptance of wine and fruits from the palace, and wishing me a prosperous result to my voyage. The sails were hoisted; the stately mole, that even in the night looked a mount of marble, was cleared; the libation was poured to the Tritons for our speedy passage, and the blazing We'll choose among the blooms, love, The pink's alluring wile; Oh! look on yonder bed, love; These must be ours, nor need we stay, These flowers are not like those, love, But live through Death's cold strife,love, Oh! heavenly gift! oh! happy day, THE FISHERMAN'S DEPARTURE. (For the Olio.) Beneath the dark headland of billy St. Paul, He loved, and was dearly beloved, when he took Fairest Anna, and made her his bride; There was lightness and health, there was love in her look, And a sweet infant boy was their pride. The sunset has gilt the bold hills of the west, The breeze lightly curls round the steep; The sea-bird in cavern and cairn seeks her nest, And fishing-boats glide o'er the deep. His boat from her moorings he draws to the land; Now Allan the tackle prepare ; pharos was rapidly seen but as a twinkling Fix the mast, loose the mainsail, quick lad, star." CUPID'S NOSEGAY. Will you come and walk, love, And of its beauties talk, love, While through the paths we stray? His smiles they are the sun,' love, That ever tints the scene! The day is never done, love, That lights the bowers of green! Oh! come, my love, we'll happy stray, Where Cupid grows his sweet nosegay! bear a hand! The pennant soon streams in the air. Recollections of Books and their Authors.-No. 3. BEN JONSON Was born in Hartshorn Lane, Charing Cross, June 23rd, (11th O). S.) 1574. He was the son of a clergyman, and was sent to Westminster School, from which his mother removed him on her second marriage with a bricklayer, whose busi ness it was intended he should follow. He threw aside the trowel, however; went to Cambridge; was obliged to return and take it up again; again left it to enlist as a common soldier, and had the honour, in that capacity, of performing an achievement, which must have been much to his taste. He killed an enemy in single combat, in sight of the English and Spanish armies in the Low Countries; and thus obtained the old spolia opima.-On his return, he resumed his studies in St. John's College, Cambridge; after which he joined a company of players, who exhibited at Shoreditch; and finally settled for life as an actor and dramatist, under the auspices of Shakpeare; who, with the generosity natural to great talents, discerned, and recommended his future rival. He was, at one time, instructor to the son of Sir Walter Raleigh, and is said to have been packed up in a basket, when drunk, and sent, like some fish or game, to Sir Walter, as "the tutor he had provided." He certainly lived in the alternate jollity and ill-humour of a boon companion, heaping up to himself dropsy and dissatisfaction, and being obliged to renew his powers with the excitements that weakened them. But his natural temper seems to have been excellent, and he had the wisdom to get above the jealousies that probably beset his diseased and critical temperament. It is remarkable, that the man who was unquestionably proclaimed by his contemporaries as the vainest and most envious of writers, and who indeed, in his epistle to Drayton, confesses his ill reputation in those points, was more lavish of praise to his contemporaries, than any genius of the age. His moral theory, whatever his practice might be, seems to have been rather religious than otherwise. There is a very curious set of lines written by him in sickness, which serves to show this, and at the same time to corroborate the strong suspicions entertained of the scepticism of that age. It begins Good and great God! can I not think of thee, But strait it must my melancholy be ! Ben Jonson was undoubtedly a man of genius, perhaps a greater than appears on the face of his works. But whether despair of being as great as some others, or impatience of his fortunes, or coarse habits of living, to which he never became superior, tended to diminish his readiness of invention and delicacy of tact, it is equally certain, that art in him overloaded nature; and that he entrenched himself in learning and criticism, and a certain royalty of low humour, as he did in his great straw-chair. He dogmatizes in his very familiarity; and seems to think that he has only to repeat the merest babbling of fairs and ale-houses, to make it be swallowed as wit. Some of his plays, for this reason, will never be read with any zest, unless it is out of the extremest sympathy with humanity in its commonplaces, or out of the dotage of half-witted commentators, who secretly fancy that he was as disagreeable as themselves, and take the worst steps to prove him otherwise. But his most popular comedies are worthy of their reputation, especially where he seems to have been warmed into a character by his own dominant humour. His classical dramas are high imitations of history and ancient manners; and among the grotesque work of his masques are fancies and graces which forerun the "fair loves" of Fletcher and Milton " strewing the way with flowers." His Leges Convivales, and his lines inviting a friend to supper, afford pleasant specimens of his poetical and personal character. During his early engagements on the stage, he had the misfortune to kill one of his brother players in a duel, for which he was thrown into prison, and brought near the gallows," but was afterwards pardoned. On his release, he married, to use his own expression, "a wife who endeavoured to provide for his family by was a shrew, yet honest to him," and Jonson, who, says Rowe, was then his pen. It was about this period, gether unknown to the world, offered of his plays to the comedians, to ha acted; and the persons into whose it was put, after having turned it care and superciliously over, were ab Shakspeare luckily cast his eyes upon it, return it with an ill-natured answer, and found something so good in it, as to induce him first to read it through, and afterwards to recommend him and his pro'ductions to the public. From this time, his talents as a writer were acknowledged, and although he had offended king James, and had been thrown a second time into prison for a satire on the Scotch, which much offended |