recorded in writing, but a series of bas- a hole, as if for a string to run through, reliefs exhibits all the particulars of it. and the finder has no doubt that this clay Sennacherib commanded in person at the was attached, as we attach seals in wax, siege, and after the town was taken sat to an agreement or treaty. Now, we on his throne to give decrees concerning know from Scripture (2 Kings, xvii. 4) it, and to receive the submission of the that Hoshea, King of Israel, by conspirconquered and dispose of the prisoners. ing with So (believed to be Sabaco), King If any man doubts the severity of the of Egypt, called down upon his nation punishment which fell upon the wretched the wrath of Shalmaneser; and there can Jews for their idolatry, he will do well to be little doubt that the parchment or papystudy Mr. Layard's accounts and draw- rus to which the clay was once attached ings. Sennacherib's account of the little exhibited the settlement on account of douceur - his direct claims — which Hez- this conspiracy between Shalmaneser and ekiah paid him to avert his vengeance, So. The document must have long since are consistent with those of the writer of perished, but the clay enables us to guess the Second Book of Kings. The thirty at the subject-matter of it. talents of gold are expressly mentioued. The words of Scripture receive curious as the principal part of the booty. The illustration from scenes in the bas-reliefs. builder of the palace at Kouyunjik is thus On one slab a castle is portrayed with the identified with the Sennacherib of Scrip- shields of the defenders hung round the ture. It is Sennacherib's throne that was walls ; and in the 27th chapter of Ezekiel, found as above stated ; that is very plain verse 11, are the words “they hanged from the sculptures. “ The metal frag- their shields upon thy walls round about.” ments sent to England have been skil. It would seem, from the context in Ezefully put together, so that the Assyrian kiel, that the object of this was to set off king's throne upon which Sennacherib the beauty of the citadel; and we see himself sat, and the footstool which he from the sculptures that such a practice, used, may now be seen at the British whatever may have been its object, preMuseum. A rod with loose rings, to vailed among Assyrian warriors. It is rewhich was once hung an embroidered corded in the Second Book of Kings that curtain, appears to have belonged to the the heads of the seventy sons of Ahab back of the chair, or to a framework were brought to Jezreel in baskets and raised above or behind it."

laid in two heups at the gate. The sculpAgain, the account of the arms of King tures abundantly show that acts of this Sargon having been carried as far as Cy- kind were not uncommon ; for we see not prus, and of his having received tribute only the act of decapitation, or the carryfrom kings in that island, was known to ing away the head of an enemy as a trous only through interpretations of cunei- phy, but also the official reception of the form records found in the mounds. If heaps of heads - soldiers bringing them the interpretation was incorrect, or if the jin, and officers taking account of them. statement should be unsupported, the ac- The prophet Zechariah mentions “the count might be mere fiction. But since bells of ihe horses,” and the sculptures the announcement of the fact on the explain the allusion, as in them the horses authority of the Assyrian record, a slate of the cavalry and of the chariots are conhas been discovered at Idalium, in Cy-tinually represented with bells round their prus,* with the effigy of Sargon, and an necks. Shushan, the palace, is meninscription containing his name and titles, tioned in the inscriptions the same as in thus furnishing a remarkable proof of the Scripture. Instances of the Scriptural faithfulness of the chronicle, and of the records and the Assyrian remains illussoundness of the translation.

trating one another repeatedly occur ; but Among the curiosities turned out by perhaps in nothing is this só remarkable Mr. Layard was a piece of clay bearing as in the mutual light reflected from the impressions of the seals of state of Egypt written description of Solomon's temple and Assyria, the respective kings of those and palaces, of their workmanship and countries being at the period Sabaco the ornamants, and from the remains, repreSecond and Shalmaneser. In the clay is sentations, and accounts of the Assyrian

palaces. We have not space to follow • We should draw attention to the fact that the Government of the United States has lately interested itself ?D explorations in the Isle of Cyprus; and that it is proposed -- or perhaps already determined - to establish a them.* There is every reason to believe National Museum in the Union, to which the Cyprus Explorations will furnish the first antiquities.

| . Since this paper was written, a most interesting LIVING AGE. VOL. II. 70


that the wood in the magnificent Assyrian dressed himself to obliterating with a palaces was cedar of Lebanon ; and some chisel the features of the king wherever of it, quite sound, remains to this day in he was portrayed; and poor Sennachethe mounds. Mr. Layard, smelling one rib's head has been punched in this way day in the excavations the fragrance of over and over again. Perhaps, when cedar, inquired the meaning of it, and there was found to be not time even for found that the Arabs, wanting a fire, were the punching, fire was resorted to; we burning a beam from the ruins ; it had re- may be thankful that some of the slabs tained its scent for probably three thou- and images escaped both the chisel and sand years. The bronzes which were the fire. It is still a question how the found cannot have been all made of na- Assyrians disposed of their dead, betive, or even of Asiatic metal; the tin cause, although hundreds of graves have was procured immediately from Phæni- been found, not one can be absolutely cia, which was tributary to Assyria. But pronounced to belong to that nation, but we know that the Phænicians came to may be of the Persian, or Macedonian, Britain for their tin; so that the relics or Arabian period. This absence of which an Englishman digs out of the tombs, where so much of other remains mounds of Nineveh in the present age, has been found, suggests that the dead and which belonged to Sennacherib and may have been burned ; and the discovhis ancestors, contain Cornish tin taken ery of a few vases which may be sepulfrom the mines three or four thousand chral urns gives some colour to this supyears ago.

position. It is remarkable that no private houseSo considerable a knowledge has been has been traced in Nineveh, so that the acquired, through Mr. Layard's means, of domestic life of the Assyrians is still un- the architecture of Assyria, that Mr. Ferknown to us. The people, no doubt, gusson, in a very interesting work, * has dwelt in tents, or in very frail huts, which suggested a restoration of the palaces ; were easily destroyed when the city was and Mr. Fergusson's views appear to be taken. There is reason to think that all good in the eyes of Mr. Layard. We or many of the mounds were parts of one cannot, however, further refer to the resimmense city which was spread out be- torations, our subject having been the tween them. Some of the mounds were explorations effected by Mr. Layard. fortified, and the ramparts and ditches We are obliged on the present occasion can still be traced; but it is doubtful to pass over also the many most interestwhether there were walls surrounding the sing excursions which Mr. Layard made whole vast city. When the empire fell into Kurdistan, Babylonia, and Armenia. with the grandson of Esar-haddon, it is His accounts of the modern Arabs, Nesclear that the palaces and temples were torians, and Yezidis or Devil-worshippers, destroyed by fire, the work either of the are as copious and instructive as those of Assyrians themselves, who may have his explorations. His adventures, and been as heroic as the citizens of Moscow the traits of Arab and Turkish character, were in a later day, or of the victorious are most amusing. He did not make the enemy after everything which could con- whole of his examinations at one visit, veniently be carried away had been re- but returned to Europe after the first moved. That the enemy had a spite trial, which had been undertaken at the against the proud sculptures, and wished joint expense of Sir Stratford Canning to blot out the deeds which they com- and himself, and then again went out to memorate, is evident, for he had begun the Tigris and resumed his work in comthe work of defacing the slabs. Proba-munication with the British Museum, bly finding this a tedious task, he ad- and aided by a grant of British money.

He had troubles innumerable to encoun

ter -- frequent sickness, constant danger, decipherment, by Mr. Smith of the British Museum, of certain tablets found in the palace of Sardanapalus, has 1.

05 want of mechanical means, the hardbeen made public. The inscriptions, which date from the 7th century B.C., are but copies of inscriptions 1000,

000, and obstructive cunning of the Turks ; or more, years older. These tablets contain a profane account of the Deluge; and Mr. Smith's communication, made in the second week of December 1872, will greatly delight those who take an interest in these subjects. As in other cases, some of the interpretations are owe i

owe the return to its place in history of a disputed, especially the readings of proper names. Mr. country over which the waters of obliv. Sinith has, however, Sir H. Rawlinson with him. Whatever may have been his success as to details, it is not disputed that he has unravelled the substance of the accounts.

i The Palaces of Nineveh and Persepolis Restored.


years. He has presented us with his of a third person, however amiable, more own invaluable discoveries, and he has sacred still should be the parting beset hundreds of brains working to extract tween an author and his work. Madame the full knowledge derivable therefrom. de Grantmesnil is in that moment so solHe has not only been himself a potent emn to a genius earnest as hers - she is friend to science, but he is the cause bidding farewell to a companion with that others make their learning produc- whom, once dismissed into the world, she tive. We can admire him in three ca- can never converse familiarly again ; it pacities, in any one of which a great rep- ceases to be her companion when it beutation might have been earned. A comes ours. Do not let us disturb the thoughtful and sound diviner, he, on sol- last hours they will pass together." id grounds, and after a personal inspec- These words struck me much. I suption, determined that the mounds of the pose there is truth in them. I can comTigris must be something more than prehend that a work which has long been heaps of earth and rubbish ; and so firm all in all to its author, concentrating his was his conviction of their concealed thoughts, gathering round it the hopes treasure, that the comparative failure of and fears of his inmost heart, dies, as it attempts less earnest than his did not were, to him when he has completed its shake it. An earnest and thorough work-life for others, and launched it into a er under great difficulties, he did service world estranged from the solitude in far beyond the common as a digger and which it was born and formed. I can searcher. A collector and appraiser of almost conceive that, to a writer like you, the prizes, he was able on the spot to as the very fame which attends the work sign their relative values to the objects thus sent forth chills your own love for it. found, to understand their general mean- | The characters you created in a fairy ing, to secure the information derivable land, known but to yourself, must lose from such as could not be removed, and something of their mysterious charm to foresee the scientific results which when you hear them discussed and cavmust undoubtedly proceed from his la-illed at, blamed or praised, as if they were bours. Those who have studied his really the creatures of streets and salons. works will not fail to do him full justice ; ! I wonder if hostile criticism pains or but there are very many of the present enrages you as it seems to do such other generation, probably, who do not know authors as I have known. M. Savarin, what we owe him, nor how suddenly and for instance, sets down in his tablets as completely he resuscitated the records of an enemy to whom vengeance is due the an empire, and opened a new field for smallest scribbler who wounds his selfour instruction and entertainment. love, and says frankly, “ To me praise is

food, dispraise is poison. Him who feeds me I pay ; him who poisons me I break on the wheel. “M. Savarin is, indeed, a

skilful and energetic administrator to his From Blackwood's Magazine.

own reputation. He deals with it as if it THE PARISIANS.

were a kingdom-establishes fortifications BY LORD LYTTON.

for its defence - enlists soldiers to fight

for it. He is the soul and centre of a conBOOK FOURTH.

federation in which each is bound to deCHAPTER 1.

| fend the territory of the others, and all

those territorities united constitute the FROM ISAURA CICOGNA TO MADAME DE

imperial realm of M. Savarin. Don't GRANTMESNIL.

think me an ungracious satirist in what I It is many days since I wrote to you, am thus saying of our brilliant friend. It and but for your delightful note just re- is not I who here speak; it is himself. ceived, reproaching me for silence, I He avows his policy with the naivete should still be under the spell of that awe which makes the charm of his style as which certain words of M. Savarin were writer. “It is the greatest mistake,” he well fitted to produce. Chancing to ask said to me yesterday, “ to talk of the Rehim if he had written to you lately, he public of Letters. Every author who said, with that laugh of his, good-hu- wins a name is a sovereign in his own domouredly ironical, “ No, Mademoiselle, Imain, be it large or small.' Woe to any am not one of the Facheux whom Molière republican who wants to dethrone me!" has immortalized. If the meeting of lov- Somehow or other, when M. Savarin thus ers should be sacred from the intrusion talks I feel as if he were betraying the

cause of genius. I cannot bring myself acquaintance so far, that one cannot help to regard literature as a craft — to me it feeling how much he is to be pitied. He is a sacred mission; and in hearing this is so envious! and the envious must be “sovereign" boast of the tricks by which so unhappy. And then he is at once so he maintains his state, I seem to listen near and so far from all the things that to a priest who treats as imposture the he envies. He longs for riches and luxreligion he professes to teach. M. Sava- | ury, and can only as yet earn a bare comrin's favourite élève now is a young con-petence by his labours. Therefore he tributor to his journal, named Gustave hates the rich and luxurious. His liter. Rameau. M. Savarin said the other day | ary successes, instead of pleasing him, in my hearing, “I and my set were Young render him miserable by their contrast France - Gustave Rameau and his set with the fame of the authors whom he are New Paris.

envies and assails. He has a beautiful “And what is the distinction between head, of which he is conscious, but it is the one and the other?” asked my joined to a body without strength or American friend, Mrs. Morley,

grace. He is conscious of this too : but “ The set of “Young France," " an- it is cruel to go on with this sketch. You swered M. Savarin, “ had in it the hearty can see at once the kind of person who, consciousness of youth : it was bold and whether he inspire affection or dislike, vehement, with abundant vitality and ani- cannot fail to create an interest - painful mal spirits ; whatever may be said against but compassionate. it in other respects, the power of thews. You will be pleased to hear that Dr. C. and sinews must be conceded to its chief considers my health so improved, that I representatives. But the set of New may next year enter fairly on the profesParis' has very bad health, and very in- sion for which I was intended and different spirits. Still, in its way, it is trained. Yet I still feel hesitating and very clever; it can sting and bite as doubtful. To give myself wholly up to keenly as if it were big and strong. Ra- the art in which I am told I could excel, meau is the most promising member of must alienate me entirely from the ambithe set. He will be popular in his time, tion that yearns for fields in which, alas! because he represents a good deal of the it may perhaps never appropriate to itself mind of his time - Viz.., the mind and the a rood for culture — only wander, lost in time of · New Paris.'”

a vague fairyland, to which it has not the Do you know anything of this young fairy's birthright. ( thou great EnRameau's writings ? You do not know chantress, to whom are equally subject himself, for he told me so, expressing a the streets of Paris and the realm of desire that was evidently very sincere, to Faerie — thou who hast sounded to the find some occasion on which to render deeps that circumfluent ocean called you his homage. He said this the first practical human life," and hast taught time I met him at M. Savarin's, and be the acutest of its navigators to consider fore he knew how dear to me are your how far its courses are guided by orbs in self and your fame. He came and sate heaven - canst thou solve this riddle by me after dinner, and won my interest which, if it perplexes me, must perplex at once by asking me if I had heard that so many? What is the real distinction you were busied on a new work ; and between the rare genius and the comthen, without waiting for my answer, he monalty of human souls that feel to the launched forth into praises of you, which quick all the grandest and divinest things made a notable contrast to the scorn with which the rare genius places before which he spoke of all your contempo-them, sighing within themselves —“This raries, except indeed M. Savarin, who rare genius does but express that which however, might not have been pleased to was previously familiar to us, so far as hear his favourite pupil style him “a thought and sentiment extend?" Nay, great writer in small things." I spare the genius itself, however eloquent, neryou his epigrams on Dumas and Vic- er does, never can, express the whole tor Hugo and my beloved Limartine. of the thought or the sentiment it inThough his talk was showy, and dazzled terprets : on the contrary, the greater me at first, I soon got rather tired of it the genius is, the more it leaves a some

- even the first time we met. Since thing of incomplete satisfaction on our then I have seen him very often, not only minds - it promises so much more than at M. Savarin's, but he calls here at it performs - it implies so much more least every other day, and we have be-than it announces. I am impressed with come quite good friends. He gains on the truth of what I thus say in proportion

as I reperuse and restudy the greatest ! settled, how struggling my whole nature
writers that have come within my narrow at this moment is! I wonder what is the
range of reading. And by the greatest sensation of the chrysalis which has been
writers I mean those who are not exclu- a silk-worm, when it first feels the new
sively reasoners (of such I cannot judge), wings stirring within its shell — wings,
nor mere poets (of whom, so far as con-alas! that are but those of the humblest
cerns the union of words with music, I and shortest-lived sort of moth, scarcely
ought to be able to judge), but the few born into daylight before it dies. Could
who unite reason and poetry, and appeal it reason, it might regret its earlier life,
at once to the common-sense of the mul- and say, “ Better be the silk-worm than
titude and the imagination of the few. the moth.'
The highest type of this union to me is
Shakespeare ; and I can comprehend the

From the Same to the Same.
justice of no criticism on him which does Have you known well any English peo-
not allow this sense of incomplete satis-ple in the course of your life? I say
faction augmenting in proportion as the well, for you must have had acquaintance
poet soars to his highest. I ask again, with many. But it seems to me so diffi-
In what consists this distinction between cult to know an Englishman well. Even
the rare genius and the commonalty of I, who so loved and revered Mr. Selby -
minds that exclaim, “He expresses what I, whose childhood was admitted into his
we feel, but never the whole of what we companionship by that love which places
feel?” Is it the mere power over lan- ignorance and knowledge, infancy and
guage, a larger knowledge of dictionaries, age, upon ground so equal that heart
a finer ear for period and cadence, a more touches heart — cannot say that I under-
artistic craft in casing our thoughts and stand the English character to anything
sentiments in well-selected words? Is it like the extent to which I fancy I under-
true what Buffon says, “that the style is stand the Italian and the French. Be-
the man”? Is it true what I am told tween us of the Continent and them of
Goethe said, “ Poetry is form”? I can- the island the British Channel always
not believe this ; and if you tell me it is flows. There is an Englishman here to
true, then I no longer pine to be a writer. whom I have been introduced, whom I
But if it be not true, explain to me how have met, though but seldom, in that so-
it is that the greatest genius is popular in ciety which bounds the Paris world to
proportion as it makes itself akin to us me. Pray, pray tell me, did you ever
by uttering in better words than we em- know, ever meet him ? His name is
ploy that which was already within us, Graham Vane. He is the only son, I am
brings to light what in our souls was la- told, of a man who was a célébrité in Eng-
tent, and does but correct, beautify, and land as an orator and statesman, and on
publish the correspondence which an or- both sides he belongs to the hante aristo-
dinary readcr carries on privately every cratie. He himself has that indescriba-
day, between himself and his mind or his ble air and mien to which we apply the
heart. If this superiority in the genius epithet “distinguished.” In the most
be but style and form, I abandon my crowded salon the eye would fix on him,
dream of being something else than a and involuntarily follow his movements.
singer of words by another to the music Yet his manners are frank and simple,
of another. But then, what then? My wholly without the stiffness or reserve
knowledge of books and art is wonder which are said to characterize the Eng-
fully small. What little I do know I lish. There is an inborn dignity in his
gather from very few books, and from bearing which consists in the absence of
what I hear said by the few worth listen- all dignity assumed. But what strikes
ing to whom I happen to meet ; and out me most in this Englishman is an ex-
of these, in solitude and reverie, not by pression of countenance which the Eng-
conscious effort, I arrive at some results lish depict by the word "open" – that
which appear to my inexperience orig-expression which inspires you with a be-
inal. Perhaps, indeed, they have the lief in the existence of sincerity. Mrs.
same kind of originality as the musical | Morley said of him, in that poetic extrav-
compositions of amateurs who effect a agance of phrase by which the Ameri-
cantata or a quartette made up of bor-cans startle the English — “That man's
rowed details from great masters, and forehead would light up the Mammoth
constituting a whole so original that no Cave." Do you not know, Eulalie, what
real master would deign to own it. Oh, it is to us cultivators of art -- art being
if I could get you to understand how un-' the expression of truth through fiction -

[ocr errors][ocr errors]
« VorigeDoorgaan »