3. CRANMER'S, OF THE GREAT BIBLE, in large folio. This appeared in 1539. The preface was written by Cranmer, then archbishop of Canterbury, but the translation or revision was by many hands, the chief of whom was Coverdale.

4. TAVERNER'S BIBLE. This appeared in 1539, edited by Richard Taverner, the text being formed on Matthewe's Bible.

In May, 1541, Henry VIII, issued a decree that the great volume of the Bible should be set up in every parish church in England, and all curates, not already furnished, were commanded to procure Bibles, and place them conveniently in their respective churches, and all the bishops were required to take especial care to see the said command put in force. "It was wonderful," says the old historian John Strype, "to see with what joy this book of God was received, not only among the learneder sort, but generally all England over, among all the people; and with what greediness God's word was read, and what resort to places where the reading of it was." During the reign of Edward VI. (1547—1553) eleven impressions of the English Bible were published, but they were merely reprints of one or other of the editions mentioned above.

5. THE GENEVA BIBLE. This was translated, with notes, by Miles Coverdale and others, who during the reign of Mary fled to Geneva. On the accession of Elizabeth, 1558, some returned, and others remained to finish the work, which appeared in 1560. This long continued to be the favorite Bible of the English Puritans and of the Scotch Presbyterians. Fifty im pressions of it, at least, are known.

6. THE BISHOP'S BIBLE, which appeared in 1568, so called from Matthew Parker, archbishop of Canterbury, who employed others to prepare it.

7. THE DOUAT BIBLE, of which the New Testament was printed at Rheims in 1582, and the Old at Douay2 in 1609-10.

8. KING JAMES'S BIBLE. We are now brought to our own translation. At the accession of James I., 1603, many complaints were made of the discrepancies then existing among the several versions of the Bible. At the great conference held in 1604, at Hampton Court, between the Established and Puritan clergy, all parties agreeing in their disapprobation of the version of the Scriptures then most generally used, the king commissioned fifty-four men, the most learned in the universities and other places, to commence a new translation. At the same time he required the bishops to inform themselves of all the learned men within their several dioceses, who had acquired especial skill in the Greek and Hebrew languages, and who had taken great pains in their private studies to investigate obscure passages and to correct mistakes in former English translations, and to charge them to communicate their observations to the persons thus employed to translate the whole Scrip

tures.

Before the work was begun, seven of the persons nominated for it were either dead or declined to engage in the task; the remaining forty-seven were classed under six divisions, a certain portion of Scripture being assigned to each. They proceeded to their task at Oxford, Cambridge, and Westminster, each individual translating the portion assigned to his division, and when all in any one division had finished, they met together, compared their several translations, and decided all differences, and settled upon what they

1 About 50 miles N. E. of Paris.

8 About 100 miles N. of Paris.

deemed the best translation. When the several divisions had finished, they all met together, and one and another by turns read the new version, while all the rest held in their hands either copies of the original or some valuable version. If any one objected to the translation of any passage, the reader stopped to allow time for discussion, comparison, and final decision.

The labor appears to have commenced in the spring of 1604, and the result was published in 1611, under the following title, "The Holy Bible, conteyning the Old Testament and the New, newly translated out of the Originall Tongues, and with the former Translations diligently compared and revised by his Majesties speciall Commandement." As a translation, this is generally most faithful, and an excellent specimen of the language of the time. Dr. Adam Clarke remarks, "The translators have seized the very spirit and soul of the original, and expressed this, almost everywhere, with pathos and energy: they have not only made a standard translation, but have made this transla tion the standard of our language." This is eminently true, for in all human probability this translation will never be changed.

Still, strict truth and justice require us to say that there are some defects and errors, in our present version, which a more advanced state of biblical science enables us to detect. The translators had not access to the various sources of biblical criticism and elucidation which we enjoy at the present day; such as the collation of ancient manuscripts and versions; the multiplication of grammars and lexicons; the enlarged comparison of kindred dialects; and the researches of travellers into the geography, manners, customs, and natural history of the East. But after all, instead of dwelling upon errors and discrepancies, which are really unimportant, we must ever wonder that there are so few, and admire the fidelity, the learning, and the wisdom of the great and good men that executed the work.2

I have felt it a duty, in entering upon the reign of James I., when the present version of our Bible was made, to give this short historical view of the sacred volume, because, to say nothing of its divine origin, nothing of its inspired contents, nothing of its being the foundation of all morality, the groundwork of our religion, and our unerring rule of faith and practice, it has done so much for English mind, English literature, and English character. To say nothing of its heavenly influences, wherever faithfully and honestly followed, in elevating and blessing man, and in removing every wicked practice

1 For some very able remarks on our present version, see Professor Bush's Introduction to his "Notes on Genesis."

2 One of the greatest defects in our translation is a want of uniformity in rendering, both in regard to single words and to phrases. To give a few instances of what I mean. The Greek adverb vous (euthus), which means "directly," "immediately," is translated in Matt. iii. 16, by "straightway;" xiii. 20, by "anon;" xiii. 21, by "by and by;" Mark i. 12, by "immediately;" John xix. 34, by "forthwith." In all these places, "immediately" would have better expressed the original: “by and by" is peculiarly infelicitous. So the verb papipvārɛ (merimnate) in Matt. vi. 25, is rendered "take no thought;" in Phil. iv. 6, "be careful." The latter comes nearer the true meaning, which is, "be not distracted about," "be not over anxious about." In justice, however, to the translators, ▲ should say that in King James's day, the phrase "take no thought" had a much stronger meaning than it now has, being nearly equivalent to "let not your thoughts be unduly exercised." In many other cases also, the present translation fails to express the sense, owing to changes which our language has undergone. One more instance will suffice. David says, (Psalm cxix. 147,) "I prevented the dawning of the morning," where "prevent" is used in its original Latin sense of "going be fore," "anticipating," and in King James's day it was so understood. Now, we know, it is used in the sense of to "hinder." This, though a most interesting subject of inquiry, cannot appropriately be pursued any further here.

and institution that tend to crush, debase, and brutalize him, it has done more to refine the taste, to kindle the imagination, to enlarge the understanding, to give strength to the reasoning powers, and to supply the mind with images of beauty, tenderness, and sublimity, than all other books which have been borne down to us on the stream of time: while our present permanent version has secured for our language what Tithonus begged of Auroraimmortality; and secured, besides, what he forgot to ask-perpetual youth. But above all and beyond all this, it is THE GREAT LEVER FOR ELEVATING THE MORAL WORLD.1

THOMAS SACKVILLE, Lord Backhurst, and ultimately Earl of Dorset and lord high treasurer of England, deserves consideration, if for no other reason, as the author of the first regular English tragedy, entitled "Ferrex and Por rex." It is also called "The Tragedie of Gorboduc," and was acted before Queen Elizabeth in 1561. The story is this. Gorboduc, an ancient king of Britain, divided, in his lifetime, his kingdom between his sons Ferrex and Porrex. They quarrel for sovereignty, and Porrex kills his brother. Their mother Viden, who loved Ferrex best, revenged his death by entering Porrex's chamber in the night and murdering him in his sleep. The people, exasperated at this, rose in rebellion, and killed both Viden and Gorboduc. The nobility then assembled, collected an army, and destroyed the insurgents. Every act of this play is closed by something like the chorus of the Greek tragedy, namely, an ode in long-lined stanzas, drawing back the attention of the audience to the substance of what has just passed, and illustrating it by moral reflections. The following ode closes the third act, the moral beauties as well as the spirit of which must strike every reader. Sir Philip Sidney, in his "Defence of Poesy," says that this whole tragedy is "full of notable morality."

1

1 I cannot but give room to the following just and beautiful remarks of Mrs. Ellis, in her work entitled the "Poetry of Life:"

"With our established ideas of beauty, grace, pathos, and sublimity, either concentrated in the minutest point, or extended to the widest range, we can derive from the Scriptures a fund of gratification not to be found in any other memorial of the past or present time. From the worm that grovels in the dust beneath our feet, to the track of the leviathan in the foaming deep-from the moth that corrupts the secret treasure, to the eagle that soars above his eyrie in the clouds-from the wild ass in the desert, to the lamb within the shepherd's fold-from the consuming locust, to the cattle on a thousand hills-from the rose of Sharon, to the cedar of Lebanon-from the clear crystal stream, gushing forth out of the flinty rock, to the wide waters of the deluge-from the barren waste, to the fruitful vineyard, and the land flowing with milk and honey-from the lonely path of the wanderer, to the gatherer of a mighty multitude-from the tear that falls in secret, to the din of battle and the shout of a triumphant host-from the solitary in the wilderness, to the satrap on the throne-from the mourner clad in his sackcloth, to the prince in purple robes-from the gnawings of the worm that dieth not, to the seraphic vision of the blessed-from the still small voice, to the thunders of Omnipotence-from the depths of hell, to the regions of eternal glory, there is no degree of beauty or deformity, no tendency to good or evil, no shade of darkness or gleam of light, which does not come within the cognizance of the Holy Scriptures; and, therefore, there is no expression or conception of the mind that may not here find a corresponding picture; no thirst for excellence that here may not meet with its full supply; and no condition of humanity excluded from the unlimited scope of adaptation and sympathy comprehended in the language and spirit of the Bubbie"

The lust of kingdom knows no sacred faith,
No rule of reason, no regard of right,

No kindly love, no fear of Heaven's wrath:
But with contempt of God's and man's despight,
Through bloody slaughter doth prepare the ways
To fatal sceptre, and accursed reign:

The son so loathes the father's lingering days,
Nor dreads his hand in brother's blood to stain!
O wretched prince! nor dost thou yet record
The yet fresh murders done within the land
Of thy forefathers, when the cruel sword
Bereft Morgain his life with cousin's hand!

Thus fatal plagues pursue the guilty race,
Whose murderous hand imbrued with guiltless blood,
Asks vengeance still before the Heaven's face,
With endless mischief on the cursed brood.

The wicked child thus brings to woful sire
The mournful plaints, to waste his weary life:
Thus do the cruel flames of civil fire

Destroy the parted reign with hateful strife:

And hence doth spring the well, from which doth flow
The dead black streams of mourning, plaint, and woe,

But the poem by which Sackville is best known, is entitled "The Mirror for Magistrates." In it, most of the illustrious but unfortunate characters of English history, from the Conquest to the end of the fourteenth century, are made to pass in review before the poet, who, conducted by Sorrow, descends, like Dante, into the infernal regions. Each character recites his own misfortunes in a separate soliloquy. But Sackville finished only the preface called the "Induction," and one legend, the Life of the Duke of Buckingham. He left the completion of the whole to Richard Baldwyne and George Ferrers. These called in others to aid them, and the whole collection or set of poems was published in 1559, with this title, "A Mirror for Magistrates, wherein may be seen, by example of others, with how grievous plagues vices are punished, and how frail and how unstable worldly prosperity is found, even of those whom fortune seemeth most highly to favor."

The whole poem is one of a very remarkable kind for the age, and the part executed by Sackville exhibits a strength of description and a power of drawing allegorical characters scarcely inferior to Spenser, and had he completed the whole, and with the same power as that exhibited in the commencement, he would have ranked among the first poets of England.

ALLEGORICAL CHARACTERS IN HELL.

And first, within the porch and jaws of hell,
Sat deep REMORSE OF CONSCIENCE, all besprent
With tears; and to herself oft would she tell
Her wretchedness, and, cursing, never stent
To sob and sigh, but ever thus lament
With thoughtful care; as she that, all in vain,
Would wear and waste continually in pain:

Her eyes unsteadfast, rolling here and there,

Whirl'd on each place, as place that vengeance brought,

So was her mind continually in fear,

Tost and tormented with the tedious thought
Of those detested crimes which she had wrought;
With dreadful cheer, and looks thrown to the sky,
Wishing for death, and yet she could not die.

Next, saw we DREAD, all trembling how he shook,
With foot uncertain, proffer'd here and there;
Benumb'd with speech; and with a ghastly look,
Search'd every place, all pale and dead for fear,
His cap borne up with staring of his hair;
'Stoin'd and amazed at his own shade for dread,
And fearing greater dangers than was need.

And, next, within the entry of this lake,
Sat fell REVENGE, gnashing her teeth for ire:
Devising means how she may vengeance take;
Never in rest, till she have her desire;
But frets within so far forth with the fire
Of wreaking flames, that now determines she
To die by death, or 'veng'd by death to be.

When fell REVENGE, with bloody foul pretence,
Had show'd herself, as next in order set,
With trembling limbs we softly parted thence,
Till in our eyes another sight we met;
When fro my heart a sigh forthwith I fet,
Rueing, alas, upon the woful plight

Of MISERY, that next appear'd in sight:

His face was lean, and some-deal pined away,
And eke his hands consumed to the bone;
But, what his body was, I cannot say,
For, on his carcase raiment had he none,
Save clonts and patches pieced one by one;
With staff in hand, and scrip on shoulders cast,
His chief defence against the winter's blast:

His food, for most, was wild fruits of the tree,
Unless sometime some crumbs fell to his share,
Which in his wallet long, God wot, kept he,
As on the which full daint'ly would he fare;
His drink, the running stream; his cup, the bare
Of his palm closed; his bed, the hard cold ground:
To this poor life was MISERY ybound.

Whose wretched state when we had well beheld,
With tender ruth on him, and on his fears,
In thoughtful cares forth then our pace we held;
And, by and by, another shape appears
Of greedy CARE, still brushing up the briers;
His knuckles knobb'd, his flesh deep dinted in,
With tawed hands, and hard ytanned skin:

The morrow gray no sooner hath begun
To spread his light e'en peeping in our eyes,
But he is up, and to his work yrun;