502 
Sound was not. But Jefus 
Hung on the crofs, dumb: mixt with his 
blood flow trickled the death fweat. 
Struck, as with judgments of God, earth 
lay. More ftruck to the inmoft. 
Stands not a friend by the corfe of his 
far hence early departed 
Friend: northe man that feels in its 
wholenefs the lofs of the noble 
Over the patriot’s urn, who leaves un- 
ended a great deed ; 
Leng unmoving, he hangs on the holy 
ruin, and weeps not— 
Shadders of anguiih feize him at once. 
So broke on a fudden 
Earth from its flillnefs, and quak’d. 
And with it Goigotha too quak’d 
Up to the crofs’s fummit. Now flow’d 
from the wounds of the vidiim 
Fafter the life everlafting, the ftreaming 
blood of atonemeuvt 
When the night-wrapt crofs, with Gol- 
gotha, quak’d—overfhadow’d 
Frightful, a deeper blacknefs the hill of 
death—overfhadow’d 
Deeper blacknefs the temple, and thee, 
O Jerufalem. Angels 
’ Even beheld now &rft their pure light 
fade into evening. 
A French writer*, who flourifhed in 
this country, has compared the Meffiah 
of the Germans with the Mahabharat of 
the Hindoos,.and extras from this canto 
the defcription of Chrift fuffering, in cor- 
roboration of the analogy: he thinks that 
European religion will one day be appre- 
ciated at Benares by Klopftock’s poem. 
The ninth and tenth books confift of 
disjointed anecdotes of men and fpitits, 
who come to view the crucifixion. Ab- 
badona’s approach in the difeuife of an 
angel of light, is borrowed from Satan’s 
vifit to Uriel, in Milton, and was worth 
.berrowing. ‘The two devils in the Dead 
Sea rant and roar fomewhat hypertragi- 
cally ; yet their howling fuggeits a {trong- 
ly written fimile : 
So, when .the earth deep quakes, its 
long-doom’d cities to fwallew, 
And, with the far-cleft region, one of 
the finfulleft finks—wild 
Death-fhricks climb with the thunders 
ot fubterranean vengeance. 
Once more trembles the earth; once 
more found, mingling in dire crath. 
Falling temples of guilt, vaft marble 
palaces fhatter’d, 
Wild death-fhrieks of the guefts—pale 
flies the wanderer, bawling. 
On the whole, thefe two bcoks, and ef- 

* Effai Hiflorique fur les Revolutions 
Anciennes et Modernes. 
Kilopftock’s Meffiah. 
[Jan. 1, 
pecially the latter, have as few prominent 
beauties of ftyle as of conception: they 
terminate when Jefus “ bowed his head 
and died.” . 
Eleventh book: The tnyftical Chrift 
feparates from the dead bedy of Jefus, 
and hovers into the holy of holies. The 
veil of the temple rends, an earthquake 
is felt, and many bodies of the faints, 
which flept, arife. Not only crowds of 
individuals, who partake this fele& re- 
furrection, are feparately enumerated ; 
the whole procefs of revivification is re- 
peatedly defcribed with fatiguing uni- 
formity: it is detailed with moft elegance 
in the following inftance : 
While yet Rachel fpake, arofe at her 
feet from the flill grave, 
Softly afpiring, acloud, fuch as rofes 
in Chalice, an odor, 
As of a vernal bower, that fcatters the 
{now of its bloffoms. 
Rachel’s glory illumin’d the {wimming 
vapor with luitre. 
Golden and bright, as on morning 
clouds, are the fringes of funfhine. 
Curious follows her glance the heaving 
mift; fhe beholds it 
Hovering, fhapelefs as yet; itafcends, 
finks, glitters—approaches 
Nearer and nearer. She thinks on the 
ever-changeful creation, 
Aye to remain unfathom’d in fmall as 
1n great—nor imagines 
Yet how nearly akin is the floating ra- 
diant cloudlet, 
Nor inte what thy voice, Atoner, is 
foon to transform it 
Sudden the word of his allmight 
founds. Her angel is prefent. 
Rachel {woons—fhe feems into tears of 
extafy melting, 
Flowing adown feme fhadowy valley, 
or airilv floating 
Over a bank of flowers to paufe, and 
awake onthe fragrance, 
Newly created. At length fhe awakens 
really—conf{cious 
Now that her foul has receiv’d its im- 
mortal and glorified body, 
Heavenward gazes enraptur’d, 
thanks the giver of life, God. 
The twelfth book contains the burial of 
Jefus. Its tedioufnefs is feldom relieved 
by eminent paflages, yet a graceful view is 
given of the angel Chebar. The grief of 
the mother is’ neither well fhewn, nor 
well veiled. Klopftock’s attempt at a 
concentration of pathos into a fingle ex- 
clamation, about the d/oody crown, is quite 
unfuccefsful; ithas nothing of the Ventress 
Jeri of Agrippina, or the SoJ em of Corde- 
lia, or the J? Hermann iodt? of his own 
Thuinelda. The filial tendernefs of Jefus 
in 
and 
