would go on, saying a thousand things like these. He then embraced her, kissed her eyes, and went backward, bidding her the most tender adieu.' This story reminds its relater of an Arab of Tunis, who could not be got to deliver up a mare that had been purchased for the stud of the king of France. 'When he had put the money in his bag, he looked wistfully upon his mare and began to weep. "Shall it be possible," said he, "that after having reared thee up in my house with so much care, and after having had so much service from thee, I should be delivering thee up into slavery to the Franks, for thy reward? No, I never will do it, my darling!" and with that he threw down the money upon the table, embraced and kissed his mare, and took her home with him again.'

Considering that the chariot-horses of Pharaoh were beyond all doubt the most stately and beautiful that could be found, and looking to the admiration and affectionate regard in which these animals are held, we perceive how a woman might, under such notions, be compared to a mare, not only without disparagement, but with the purpose and effect of extolling her perfections.

It is worthy of note, however, that the comparison is not, strictly speaking, to the chariot-horse in the possession of the Egyptian king, but to one in the hands of Solomon himselfprobably the most illustrious and beautiful of all the horses he had obtained from Egypt, and very possibly presented to him

from the royal stud of Pharaoh, with

chariot and trappings all complete. Properly, the text reads, "To my Pharaoh's chariot-horse [mare], do I compare thee, my love.'

Still, after all, it is doubtful that there is any intended reference to the form, action, speed, or docility of the

horse. Does not what immediately

follows-Thy cheeks [or rather brows] are comely with rows of jewels, thy neck with chains of gold,'-seem as if intended to indicate wherein the comparison lay; not to the horse itself, but

to its trappings-that is, rather, the horse with its trappings, and in particular its rich head-stall? What that was we know from the Egyptian paintings and sculptures; and if we examine

the head-gear of a royal chariot-horse, we shall be at no loss for the source of the comparison.

The favourite Oriental fancy of decorating the brows or head-dress of females with 'rows of jewels,' is, by the text just

cited, shown to have been of very early date. This is corroborated by the ancient Egyptian paintings, and is illustrated by the existing usages of the East. In the farther East the practice

VOL. V.

2 D

is common to both men and women, and the Nepaulese ambassador has made the idea of it more familiar in this country than even the common portraits of the Mogul emperors. In Western Asia men rather eschew such fineries, and leave them to the women, who indulge in them without stint. Here is a representation of the jewelled head-band in use among the

ladies of modern Egypt. It is stated by Olearius (and his statement is still applicable), that all the head-dress that the Persian ladies make use of is two or three rows of pearls, which are worn around the head, beginning at the forehead and descending down the cheeks, and under the chin, so that their faces seem to be set in pearls. This head-dress seemed to Olearius to be very ancient; for he says (alluding to this passage), mention is made of it in Solomon's Song.' The Sultana Hafitan is described by Lady Mary W. Montagu as wearing around her talpache or head-dress four strings of pearls, the finest and whitest in the world.' And if, as some suppose, it was only as a royal bride that Shulamith wore these rows of jewels, this also is illustrated by the later usages of the East; for it is recorded in the Tarikh-el-Abbas, that when the Khalif el-Maimun went to take home his bride, Touran Dokht, he found that princess seated upon a throne, her head laden with a thousand pearls, every one of them as large as a pigeon's egg or large nut; and this rich coiffure the khalif resolved should be assigned to her for a dowry.'

Thirteenth Week-Fourth Day.

NOTES OF TIME.

It seems that during the interview between Shelomoh and Shulamith, the latter, overcome by the strength of her emotions, falls into a slumber and has an ecstatic dream. Shelomoh, both at the commencement and at the close of the dream, charges the daughters of Jerusalem not to awaken her; and these injunctions are most skilfully interposed to mark out the visionary from the waking scenes. It begins in chap. ii. 7, and ends in chap. iii. 5; but the perception of the meaning is unhappily obscured to the English reader, by the rendering in both places, Wake not my love till he please,' whereas in the original the pronoun is feminine-till she please.' By not overlooking a circumstance so plainly and carefully marked out, but viewing the whole passage as the recital of a dream, we clear away a multitude of difficulties and apparent incongruities, which commentators have found in taking it as part of the primary recital of the poem.

We shall confine our attention to-day to the notes of time which the poem furnishes, from which, we apprehend, it will appear that the scene is laid in spring, or perhaps we should say, with regard to Palestine, early in summer-that is, in the early part of May; and so much attention is paid to this, that all the circumstances are made to refer to that time of the year.

The first and leading sign of the season is, that the vine is in blossom, or rather has begun to furnish its first tender grapes. It appears that in Palestine, although the vintage does not begin before September, small quantities of grapes are gathered from certain kinds of vines, from the end of May until that season, at the same time that other kinds have not ceased to blossom. The early grapes thus supplied were accounted great delicacies by the Hebrews, and are doubtless among 'the first ripe fruits' which the bride so earnestly desired; and well might she do so if she were of Egypt, the grapes of that country being

altogether inferior to those of Palestine. The allusions to this, as one of the signs of early summer, are of repeated occurrence in this Song. Here we have, 'The vines with the tender grape give a good smell ;' and just after, 'Take us the foxes, the little foxes that spoil the vines; for our vines have tender grapes.' And that'tender grapes,' and not merely 'blossoms,' as some suppose, are really meant, is clear from this, that blossoms would offer small temptation to the little foxes. The love these animals bear to grapes is proverbial; but no one ever heard of their appetite for blossoms. Again, towards the close of the poem, the bridegroom says: "I went down to the garden of nuts, to see whether the vine flourished, and the pomegranates budded.' Upon the whole we seem to find that we can resolve all the circumstances alluded to in the book, which afford any indications of season, into a few weeks-from about the middle of April to the middle of May, and in the southern parts of Palestine they may all be brought into April. The blossoming of the pomegranate coincides with this aspect of the vine; and at the season indicated, the country is in fullest bloom. In beautiful accordance with nature, therefore, it represents the time of the blossoming of the vines and the pomegranates, of the singing of the birds, and of the cooing of the turtles, as the time of flowers too-it is the time when they are in the greatest abundance.

Rise up, my

Let us look at the leading passage again. love, my fair one, and come away. For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone; the flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. The fig-tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away!' Here is a charming spring picture, with more exact and accumulated allusions to the beauties of nature than often occur together in the sacred books. It is the more engaging, from the strict coincident fitness of all of them to express the time of the year. Addison observes in one of the Spectators (No. 418), that a poet is not obliged to attend nature in the slow advance she makes