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ceding. The characters are skilfully grouped and opposed, and the interest of the story constantly increases till the denouement. The situations and characters are, however, sometimes rather beyond Nature; and the idea of a Protestant Nunnery, even as the frolic of a romantic girl, is somewhat too absurd. As a novel, it is formed more upon the model of the writings of Dr Moore and Miss Burney than upon those of the Scottish or Irish school. It is also written in Letters, a contrivance we so little like, that we had almost laid aside the book, till, upon turning over the leaves, we perceived that it possessed more attractions than the commencement indicated. It is, in fact, au interesting novel, which is ascribing to it almost the only quality that novel readers care about; but yet we must not let it pass without some reprehension, though its worst fault is one for which the author will find too much precedent of late years to regard critical vituperation. The fault we mean, is the introduction of living characters, well disguised and extravagantly caricatured, but sufficiently palpable to gratify the depraved public taste for personality and scandal. This is surely unworthy of such an able writer; and we hope he will, in future, leave such paltry provocatives of popularity to such persons as the author of Glenarvon and her contemptible. compeers.

With these basty remarks, we recommend the above works to the numerous lovers of light reading and romantic adventure. Something of entertainment and instruction may be derived from all of them, and, so far as we have discovered, they contain as little admixture of a hurtful or deleterious nature as, in these times of universal empiricism, can be rationally expected.

Antar; A Bedoueen Romance. Translated from the Arabic. By TERKICK HAMILTON, Esq. Oriental Secretary to the British Embassy at Constantinople. London, Murray. Svo. 1819.

It has long been a favourite hypothesis among literary antiquaries, that the earliest models of our European Romances of Chivalry were derived from the East; and the chief point of

controversy has been to ascertain, whether our ancestors became ac quainted with this fascinating style of writing through the medium of the Spanish Moors, or directly from the Arabian minstrels, during the period of the Crusades. Many plausible arguments have been urged in favour of each of these suppositions; and others not less strong, perhaps, have been advanced against them both. We are ourselves inclined to an intermediate opinion,-namely, that the style and structure of our early romances have been modified in a considerable degree by the influence of Oriental fiction, but that Europe by no means originally borrowed this species of writing from either Moors or Arabs. Poetry and Romance are, in fact, the indigenous produce of every country at an early period of society and if we would find the original sources of our own peculiar style of fictitious composition, we ought rather to search for them in the wild and romantic lays of our Celtic or Saxon progenitors, than weary ourselves in remoter investigations. The Editor of the work now before us, however, promises to afford the public more ample means for discussing this question when his work is completed; and till then we turn to the particu lar analysis of the volume with which he has just favoured us.

The romance of Antar is, indeed, in every respect, a most interesting and curious production. It is a genuine Arabian tale, composed soon after the time of Mahomet, and relating to the heroic adventures of a chief who shortly preceded him.

"Antar," observes the editor, "is no imaginary personage. He was the son of an Arab Prince of the tribe of Abs, by a black woman, whom his father had made captive in a predatory excursion: and he raised himself by the heroic qualities which he displayed from his earliest youth, and by his extraordinary genius for poetry, from the state of slavery in which he was born, to the confidence of his king, and to a preeminence above all the Chiefs of Arabia. He flourished during the close of the sixth, and the early part of the seventh century, of the Christian æra; there is, consequently, little or no allusion to the customs or institutions of Islamism throughout the work; though the Hero is frequently designated as He by whom God. organized the earth and the world for the appearance of the Lord or slaves."

"The following romance, as it may be called, was first put together, probably from traditionary tales current at the time, by Osmay, one of the eminent scholars who adorned the courts of Haroun-al Raschid, and of his two learned successors, Al-Amyn and Al-Mamoun; and it still continues to be the principal source whence the story-tellers of the coffee-houses in Egypt, Syria, and Arabia, draw their most interesting tales: but, notwithstanding its general circulation in the Levant, the name of Antar is hitherto only known to us in Europe, as that of the author of one of the seven poems suspended in the temple of Mecca, and from that circumstance called, The Moallakat.

The Author of this poem, and the Hero of our history, are identified, as well by the similar names which occur in both, as by the insertion of the poem itself in the body of the history, when, after much persecu tion and opposition, Antar at length succeeds in suspending the poem within the Holy Sanctuary which surrounds the

Kaaba,

"There is reason to believe that this is the first attempt to transpose into an European language a real Arabian story, depicting the original manners of the Arabs of the desert, uncorrupted by the artificial and refined customs of the neighbouring cities in Syria, Egypt, and Persia.

"The characteristics of the real Arabs, or

Bedowins, are here presented in their native simplicity. An eager desire for the property of their neighbour; an unconquerable fondness for strife and battle; a singular combination of profuse hospitality, with narrow economy-quick perception-→→ deep cunning-great personal courage, a keen sense of honour, respect for their women, and a warm admiration and ready use of the poetical beauties of their unrivalled language."

The story itself commences ab ovo with "Ishmael, son of Abraham," and after a brief genealogical account of the various tribes of Arabs, gives a particular history of King Zoheir and his family, who reigned over the tribe of Abs or Adnan at the period when our hero makes his first appearance on the stage. In one of the foraging excursions of this tribe, a party who went out "to seek their fortunes," were headed by Shedad the son of Carad, who was called the Knight of Jirwet," for his mare was called Jirwet, whose like was unknown."

Shedad and his party having come suddenly upon the tribe of Jezeelah, succeeded in carrying off their camels and a black woman with her two chil dren, who was watching them. On

their way home, the marauders halt=
ed by the side of a stream to divide
the spoil, when Shedad, captivated
by the charms of the black captive,
offered his share of the booty to his
comrades if they would resign her to
him. To this they agreed, and Ze-
beeba, with her children, became his
sole property. She is described as
"Her form
uncommonly beautiful.
was delicate, her eye inspired love,
her smile was enchanting, and her
gestures graceful." As the poet has
said,

"In blackness there is some virtue, if

you observe its beauty well, thy eyes do
not regard the white or red. Were it not
for the black of the mole on a fair cheek,
how would lovers feel the value of its
brilliancy? Were not musk black, it would
not be precious. Were it not for the black
Were
it not for the black of the eye, where
of night, the dawn would not rise.
would be its beauty?"

With all her charms, however, Zebeeba was considered merely as a slave, and employed by Shedad to tend his flocks. She at length brought him a son, of whose portentous appearance a strange and not very winning description is given; "he was like the fragment of a cloud, with eyes that flashed sparks of fire." Shedad was, however, overjoyed at seeing him, and gave him the name of Antar.

When our hero began to grow up, his strength and spirit were so remarkable, that the other knights who had accompanied Shedad in the marauding expedition in which his mother was captured, became eager to obtain possession of him, and claimed him as their equal property. The affair was submitted to King Zoheir, who ordered them to produce the child in his presence. Antar was, accordingly, brought before the king, and here his first adventure occurred.

"And the King beheld him, and lo! he was like a lion when he roars. As soon as he saw him he gave a loud scream, and threw a piece of meat at him; but a dog that was there got before him, and snatched up the meat like a hawk, and ran away.

But Antar followed him till he came up with him; he was greatly enraged, and seized hold of him with all his strength. He wrenched open his jaws, and tore them in twain even to the shoulders, and snatched the meat out of his mouth. When the King saw this, he was astonished, and the Arab chiefs that were present were amazed

and exclaimed, what ingenuity, what power, strength, and ability! O my friends, said King Zoheir, contend no more about such a wretch as this!"

It was, however, at length decided by a famous Cadi, that Antar was the undoubted and sole property of his father Shedad. He continued, accordingly, to assist his mother and brothers in tending the cattle, roaming about the wilds and desarts, and inuring himself to exercise and danger, till he became the admiration and dread of the whole tribe. In his tenth year he slew a wolf which had attacked his flock, and brought home the head to his mother, growling like an angry lion," and singing the following verses :—

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"Oh thou wolf, eager for death, I have left thee wallowing in dust, and spoiled of life; thou wouldst have the run of my flocks, but I have left thee dyed with blood-thou wouldst disperse my sheep, and thou knowest I am a lion that never fears.

This is the way I treat thee, thou dog of the desert. Hast ever before seen battle and wars?"

- Soon after this Antar had a more important adventure. King Zoheir's eldest son, Shas, had a slave named Daji, a brutal and overbearing bully, but who was, nevertheless, a great favourite with his master on account of his prodigious bodily strength. The insolence of this fellow (as is usual with such gentry) was still greater than his strength; and one day when the poor men, and widows, and orphans met together, and were driving their camels and their flocks to drink, Daji came up and stopped them all, and took possession of the water for his master's cattle.

"Just then an old woman belonging to the tribe of Abs came up to him, and accosted him in a suppliant manner, saying, Be so good, master Daji, as to let my cattle drink; they are all the property I possess, and I live by their milk. Pity my flock and cover my nakedness; have compassion on me and grant my request, and let them drink. But he paid no attention to her demand, and abused her. She was greatly distressed and shrunk back. Then came another old woman and addressed him, O master Daji, i am a poor weak old woman, as you see; time has dealt hardly with me; it has aimed its arrows at me; and its daily and nightly calamities have destroyed all my men. have lost my child en and my husband, and since then I have been in great dis

I

tress; these sheep are all I possess; let them drink, for I live on the milk they produce. Pity my forlorn state; I have no one to tend them, therefore grant my request, and be so kind as to let them drink"

Daji, in place of yielding to this moving appeal, was inflamed with greater pride and insolence, and only replied by striking the poor widow on the breast, throwing her down in the sand, and abusing her in the most shocking manner; and the other slaves of his master enjoyed the sport and joined in the brutal laugh. When Antar, who was also present, observ ed this, "his Pagan pride played through all his limbs, and he could not endure the sight." He ran up to Daji and cursed him, saying, "May God destroy your limbs, and all that consented to this act." The bully, not accustomed to be thus bearded, and swelling with rage, struck Antar a blow on the face that nearly knocked out his eyes; but, as Antar said to the wolf, he had not now the kid but the savage lion to deal with. The arrogant slave was instantly levelled in death below the resistless arm of our generous champion.

With all his heroism and strength, however, Antar would have been hard put to it, in the midst of Prince Shas's two hundred slaves, had he not been rescued by the gentle and generous Malik, another of the King's sons, who happened to come upon the combatants as he was going a-hunting.

The occasion of the quarrel being explained to him, he instantly took Antar into his protection, and ever afterwards continued his kind and constant friend. Antar had immediate need for such powerful support, for the haughty Shas came rushing to revenge the death of his slave; and a quarrel, almost ending in a com➡ bat, took place on his account between the brothers. They were separated by the King, who sent back Autar to his father, with high approbation of his conduct. As our youthful champion retu ned home, the women collected round him, to inquire what had happened; among them were his unts and his cousin, whose name was Ibla.

"Now Ibla was younger than Antar, and a merry lass; she was lovely as the full moon, and perfectly beautiful and

elegant. She frequently joked with Antar, and was very familiar with him, as he was her servant. As soon as she came up to him on that day, O you base-born, she cried, why didst thou kill the slave of Prince Shas? who can now protect thee from him? Indeed, my mistress, he replied, I did no more than he deserved, for he insulted a poor woman, he threw her down, and made the servants laugh at her. Thou has acted most properly, said Ibla, smiling, and we are rejoiced that thou art safe, for thou knowest our mothers consider thee as their son, and we look on thee as a brother, on account of thy services." Like all true heroes, Antar becomes a great defender and favourite of the ladies; but, as being a slave, and the son of the "Ethiopian woman," his fortune was yet under a cloud, and he was only permitted to associate with the Arabian women in the character of a servant. Among his other duties was that of presenting camel's milk, every morning and evening, to his step-mother Semeah, Shedad's wife, and to his aunts, the wives of Shedad's brothers, Jewad and Malik, and to Ibla, the daughter of the latter. One day when he entered the house of his uncle Malik to perform this service, he found his aunt combing his cousin Ibla's hair, which flowed down her back dark as the shades of night. The timid maiden ran a way as soon as Antar had entered and seen her, and her sable tresses waved to the ground behind her. Antar, struck with her beauty, falls desperately in love, and, his passion being equally hopeless and unconquerable, he becomes thoughtful and solitary, and pours forth to the desarts his love and anxieties in extemporaneous poetry, of which the following are specimens, literally translated:

"That fair maid lets down her ringlets, and she is completely hid in her hair, which appears like the dark shades of night. It is as if she were the brilliant day; and as if the night had enveloped her in obscurity. It is as if the full moon was shining in its splendour, and all the stars were concealed by its lustre. Her charms bewitch all around her, and all are anxious to offer their services; they live in her beauties and loveliness, and they are imbued with sweetness from her perfections, and receive new spirit from her graces. Revile me not for my love of her, for I am distracted for her, and live but as the victim of my love. I will conceal my affection in my soul till I can see that I am suffieiently fortunate one day to serve her. " VOL. IV.

"The lovely virgin has struck my heart with the arrow of a glance, for which there is no cure. Sometimes she wishes for a feast in the sand-hills, like a fawn whose eyes are full of magic. My disease preys on me, it is in my entrails. I conceal it, but its very concealment discloses it. She moves; I should say it was the branch of the Tamarisk that waves its branches to the southern breeze. She approaches, I should say it was the frightened fawn when a calamity alarms it in the waste. She walks away-I should say her face was truly the sun when its lustre dazzles the beholders. She gazes-I should say it was the full moon of the night when Orion girds it with its stars. She smiles. and the pearls of her teeth sparkle, in which there is the cure for the sickness of lovers. her God; and the greatest of men bow She prostrates herself in reverence towards down to her beauties. O Ibla! when I

most despair, love for thee and all its weaknesses are my only hope. Should fortune or my father assist me, I will requite myself for its vicissitudes by my fearless spirit."

"When the breezes blow from Mount Saadi, their freshness calms the fire of my love and transports. Let my tribe remember I have preserved their faith; but they feel not my worth, and preserve not their Were there not a maid settled in the tents, why should I preengagements with me. fer their society to absence? Slimly made is she, and the magic influence of her eye preserves the bones of a corpse from entering the tomb. The sun as it sets, turns towards her, and says, Darkness obscures the land, do thou rise in my absence; and the brilliant moon calls out to her, Come forth, for thy face is like me when I am at the full, and in all my glory! The Tamarisk trees complain of her in the morn and the eve, and say, Away thou, waning beauty, thou form of the laurel! She turns away abashed and throws aside her veil, and the roses are scattered from her soft

fresh cheeks. She draws her sword from the glances of her eye-lashes, sharp and penetrating as the blade of her forefathers, and with it her eyes commit murder, though it be sheathed: is it not surprising that a sheathed sword should be so sharp against its victims! Graceful is every limb, slender her waist, love-beaming are her glances, waving is her form. The damsel passes the night with musk under her veil, and its fragrance is increased by the still fresher essence of her breath. The lustre of day sparkles from her forehead, and by the dark shades of her curling ringlets, night itself is driven away. When she siniles, between her teeth is a moisture composed of wine, of rain, and of honey. Her throat complains of the darkness of her necklaces. Alas! alas! the effects of that I

throat and that necklace! Will fortune ever, O daughter of Malik, ever bless me with thy embrace, that would cure my heart of the sorrows of love? If my eye could see her baggage camels, and her family, I would rub my cheeks on the hoofs of her camels. I will kiss the earth where thou art; mayhap the fire of my love and extacy may be quenched. Shall thou and I ever meet as formerly on Mount Saadi ? or will the messenger come from thee to announce thy meeting, or will he relate that thou art in the land of Nejd? Shall we meet in the land of Shureba and Hima, and shall we live in joy and in happiness? I am the well known Antar, the chief of his tribe, and I shall die: but when I am gone, history shall tell of me."

Matters go on for some time in this way. Antar's love animates him to the most heroic achievements, which only tend to accumulate upon his head the envy and hatred of his own relations, and of all the other chiefs, except the king, and the generous Prince Malik. He is traduced by a slave, and bound and beaten by his father; he breaks his bonds, kills the slave, and flies once more to his royal protector. His uncles at length prevail upon his father to consent to have him destroyed; and they proceed to the pastures to lie in wait to slay him. While thus engaged, they observe Antar galloping about, repeating love verses, and challenging the wild beasts to the combat. A monstrous lion comes forth, the flocks fly on every side at his frightful roarings; but Antar exulting, advances to meet him, without his sword, " and as he rushed towards him, he addressed him in verse." He dispatches the lion as he did the dog, when an infant, by tearing his jaws asunder; cuts off his head, and having placed it below his own as a pillow, he falls asleep under a shady tree. Shedad and his brothers, having witnessed this transaction, were terrified and astonished. They put off their purpose of attacking him, and returned home to concert other measures to get rid of him.

Soon after this all the warriors of the tribe were called to attend King Zoheir in an expedition. The women in their absence were amusing them selves with a festival, and the young maidens were jocundly dancing on the banks of a lake, when suddenly a cloud of dust appeared in the plain, and a troop of seventy horsemen of the

hostile tribe of Cahtan rushed upon them, dispersed the slaves, and carried off the women captive. champion being at hand, pursued, Our though unarmed and on foot, the horseman who had carried off his behim from his saddle, and seizing his loved Ibla, came up with him, tore horse and arms, attacked and slew twenty-five of the robbers, and discomfited their companions. After this feat he became the idol of the women, and began also to be regarded in a different light by his father Shedad; while,

on

Prince Shas and his other enemies the other hand, the hatred of daily increased.

It would, however, far exceed our limits to continue to the end this detailed abstract of Antar's adventures. What we have given will convey to our readers some idea of the style and character of this curious work. The story appears to be managed with a good deal of address, and the progress and interest of the tale proceed together without interruption. Allowance must, of course, be made for some barbarity and extravagance. Antar's war songs please us much less than his love verses. The latter are impassioncd, yet delicate and tender, and replete with imagery and pathos; the former, though often energetic, are, on the whole, rather monotonous, and not unfrequently tinged with too high a spice of foaming gasconade. The following is a favourable specimen:

"I lust after the blows of the cleaving scimitars, and I idolize the thrusts of the well made spears. I long for the cups of death, when they are pure, and they circle

round the heads of the illustrious brave. It is the blow and the thrust when the

horses stumble among the death-bearing lances, and the armies are in confusion, that please me under the shades of the dust, like the wings of darkness, as the coursers storm over the earth, the barbs of the lances plunge into obscurity, and start from it like the sparkling stars. Faulchions gleam in it in every direction, like the flashes of lightning in the darkness of night. O by thy life, honour, and glory and eminence, and the accomplishment of who rushes into the combat magnanimous hopes, and exaltation of fame are for him ly, where alone. in the height of glory, are the highest honours. Let him thrust among the warriors and the chiefs with a heart unmoved in the fall of sword blows.

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