And so on. er in every page. Five hundred, we have heard, have been exhibited in the amphitheatre at Rome on one day; but a thousand would not have satisfied Mr Atherstone. He must have been born on the morning the sun just entered Leo. You will remember the lion quoted in the last sheet, but here are two devil's dozen, and a surplus, of lions, with a wolf, a boar, a bugbear, a tiger, and a leopard, over the leaf: "The love we owe Is what unto the lion owes his prey." Fierce as a roused-up lion sprang." Escaping, who would stay, when on He saw the tiger rushing ?" Like a galled lion sprang." To our dying day we shall ever Swift as a leopard." Our foes should be trod down." Of solitary lion came at times." "When the lion comes against you, "As on his prey a hungry lion springs, So on the flag Arbaces." "Come like a lion on, and like a sheep Fly from his purpose." "Hath he the lion's valour ?" "Stir not the lion when his wrath would "Then to be scared with bugbears," King." "And him Assyrian lions would devour." "The tiger-foe, Shall find the lion there." "Come from thy den, black, shameless Of furious Zimri like a tiger's howl." "Then like a lion by the hunters gall'd." "Like lions loosed, Away with the shattered car the coursers flew." "Talk here no more of fire and lions." There is no part of the inanimate creation of which we entertain a higher opinion than the Sea. We love to walk on his shore, to bathe in his waters when he is calm, and then for his sake we could wish we were a We sea-mew, a ship, or a shell. love to sit in our study, and from the window behold him through a telescope in storm, and then for his sake bless our stars that we are neither a sea-mew, a ship, or a shell, but simply old Christopher North, Editor of Blackwood's Magazine. But for all this we seldom speak of the Sea, except when he is himself the sole or chief subject of our discourse. We have "of the old sea too reverential fear," to use him as a mere simile. He is privileged to stand on his own bottom, to ebb and flow, heave, swell, blacken, whiten, roll and roar, for his own pastime,—and it is something to us quite shocking to make him "roar” for the amusement of the public. Mr Atherstone thinks otherwise, and will not let him alone for an instant. He lays an embargo on all his waves. A sea of glittering helms !" "Like some great wave Rolled on the gathering uproar." "Like a shaken sea, Wave against wave uplifted, toiled the hosts." "But again flow'd ou, Like to a briny tide, the living deep." "Till yet again like to a winter flood." "Like a rock Among a thousand waves Arbaces stood." "Like a rock Now stood he, and threw back the bursting waves." "Like an ocean's roar is the last line of the Poem. Indeed, this one idea of a battle being like the sea-which no doubt it is-it has a strong family likeness-perfectly engrosses Mr Atherstone. He keeps the sea either at ebb or flow, as it suits his purpose; and then, in defiance of the moon, has him in a Yet he moment at high water. knows and feels no more about his attributes than the driver of a bathing-machine, who thinks only of the waves beneath his horse's belly. The Sea of Atherstone is fresh water; like one of your American Lakes, on which all navies seem out of their element, not being even brackish, and without a single oyster: and against such a sea as his we would pitch, any day, either for roll or roar, our own reservoir on the Castle-Hill, or at Habbie's-How our own Compensation Pond! Our respect for the lion and the sea Is only equalled by that which, from infancy, we have paid to thunder, Mr Atherstone is greatly awake to the majesty of Jupiter Tonans. Whenever shouting seems insufficient, the human voice is said to be like thunder; whenever wheels make too little noise, though they always do their best, they are said to roll like thunder; in short, a peal of thunder is always held in readiness to rattle, and a thunder-cloud is sure to burst, at the nick of time. Mr Atherstone is above husbanding his thunder, and deals it out like a Dennis or a Brougham. Yet it is odd enough that, though thunder is so cheap in this Epic, it is only by way of simile; not one single real bona fide electrical rattle occurs in the poem. A living thunderstorm would have been a relief to this eternal talk about the absent or O'er all the plain ran then the joyful cry." the dead. It would have been in season too, as the weather of the six books is hot, close, and sultry; and a few big plashing drops would have been refreshing. The following are a few examples of Mr Atherstone's attachment to this phenome non. "Brooding in silence, will in thunder burst." "Thunder o'er the bridge." fire is in my heart"-"the fiery steeds" "like a fire behold the blazing "axletrees hot as fire"chariot""wood and land with fire"" poured down fire"-" fire emitting from their eyes"-" the same fiery spot" "cast it to the fire"-" with eye of fire"-"even like a raging fire”— "hardened by fire"- "the fiery horses"-" fire-eyed priest"-" fling your hottest fires"-" like the rage "For the low thunder of the rapid of fire"-" poured like a fire"-like wheels." "Like thunder-peals among the mountains lost." "With a voice like thunder." "The thundering God." "The thickening thunder of the wheels is heard." "Shouting like thunder." "Thunder'd the wheels." "As with a thunderbolt Arbaces smote." "The thunder of the wheels." "The cavalry, like clouds, On thundering came." "Shouts Spread like a peal of thunder." "Heaven calls in thunder." an outrageous fire"-" the rushing wheels streamed fire"-" fiery splendour"-" fiery splendours"-" with fury fired"-" like devouring fire""for like a fire Arbaces"ye shall burn with fire"-" fling fire within her walls"-" his fiery arrows"-"the wheels fire-rapt". cr as when a fire devours the forest"- "fierce fire". ry deluge"-"fire in his rolling eyes" "fie fierce fire and light"-" when in the fire's embraces dwells the ice." We cannot make out from the data, what may have been the tottle of the whole of the hostile armies engaged in the great battle beneath the walls "Hearing the thunder and the din of of Nineveh. At the lowest compu tation, certainly upwards of a million -at the highest two millions. The troops must have covered much "Above the thunder-peals and roaring ground; but Mr Atherstone so ma winds." Next to our respect for the lion, the sea, and the thunder, comes our respect for fire. It is one of the finest of all the elements. When applied to water and whisky, how good the effect! Hot toddy! Mr Atherstone's respect for this element equals ours, and he loses no opportunity of introducing its semblance into his poem. Apparently there is no want of fire about him; then, how happens it that he is so very cold? "Chariots like fire". "been burned with fire"—“ eye lit as with fire" -" will not their bosoms burn with constant fire"-" fire flashed from his eyes"- glowed like a fire" bright as a flame"-" fiery steeds -"fiery cloud"-"the bright crown like an ethereal fire". "he the minds of the mad soldiers fires" even now the fire is kindled" "the fires beneath the earth". "the tempest, and the earthquake, and the fire"-" the sword, the flood, the earthquake, and the fire"-" a nages it, that when any one of his heroes distinguishes himself by slaying or stabbing, he is seen or heard over the whole field of battle-just as distinctly—or perhaps more soas a president or croupier of a civic feast, slaying or spouting in our Waterloo-Rooms. Neither Mr Atherstone, nor the generals he commands, find any difficulty in manœuvring such immense bodies. The instant orders are issued for the advance of a couple of thousand chariots, they drive up to the spot. From fifty to a hundred thousand cavalry are ready at a moment's warning to charge upon any given point-and twice five score thousand infantry are wheeled into line in less than no time—or take close column before you can say Jack Robinson-or form a solid square in the twinkling of a bed-post. The ease and rapidity with which these movements are executed surpass all praise. As our military and naval puppies always say now, "It was beautiful." The art of war has been almost entirely lost since Sardana palus-Wellington and Napoleon are ninnies in comparison with Arbaces and Salamenes-and to the battle of Nineveh, Borodino and Waterloo mere street rows. Yet, somehow or other, with all that rushing and roaring, and shouting and thundering, and masterly movements among millions of men, we, for our own parts, can scarcely bring ourselves to believe that it is any thing after all but a sham fight. And what is worse, when things wear a serious aspect, and the hostile armies "mean fighting, and nothing else," it is not possible to care one straw which of them wins the toss for the sun, or gives the first knock-down blow, draws first blood, or wins the fight. There is throughout too much chaffing-and at last it ends in a wrangle and a draw, to the mutual dissatisfaction of the combatants, and the disgust of the spectators. As a military historian, Edwin Atherstone is not to be named on the same day with Vincent Dowling, Pierce Egan, or Jon Bee. Never having ourselves been-any more than Mr Atherstone-in a great pitched battle between two armies of a million men each, we must not be dogmatical on the quantity of speaking that occurs either in the ranks, or among the generals. Some of Homer's heroes are abundantly loquacious, no doubt; but then they talk as well as they fight, like warriorbards or sages as they were; nobody has ever likened the race of men to the race of leaves so beautifully as Glaucus. Mr Atherstone's heroes are too long-winded, and deal not in ETER TTECOEVTA. Belesis, the Babylonian Priest, draws the slow words interminably out of his mouth, like a mountebank so many yards of ribband. At the most critical moment of a heady fight, "And still to heaven he pointed, and cried out Unceasingly," as follows. How he escaped getting his sconce cracked during delivery, we know not; there must have been strange and culpable remissness in the Assyrians. "On, men of Babylon! Into your hands hath God deliver'd them! The day of her destruction is at hand! Yon haughty city ye shall burn with fire,—— "A ponderous bridge, thus in his pride did he." "Stood forth, for of impatient mood was he." "The tyrant's deadly foe long known was he." "To count the numbers: be Arbaces he." "Who and whence is he." "The Mede confronted, weaponless stood he." "From fierce Abiathar, for still hoped he." "Through the resounding streets then on flew they." "Might drink delighted-not Hamutah she." "His country free, for in Achmetha he." "To die or conquer everywhere flew he." "So, in one mighty flood immixed fled they." "Far o'er the field was seen, nor fear had he." "Haste, haste, and let me clasp thee! so cried he." "Then I'm thine-till then, farewellso she." "Through every wide-flung gate in haste rushed they." "Drunken with pride and wine then feasted he." "At all the midnight revels still were they." "In matters, not thine own, to pry---thus he." "Call up the soldiers---every man--- cried he." "And last the lovers in pursuit---so he. "O'er dead and living recklessly rushed they." "But voice, or rein, or scourge, nought heeded they." "Fallen is the mighty city---so cry they." And almost every other line that is not constructed precisely on these models, partakes of the same character; "so he"-"thus she"-" him so" "her thus," &c., being sprinkled plentifully over the whole texture of the work. The consequence is, that on reading a page aloud, you are seized with toothach, eye-ache, and ear-ache, all in and we one; may say, Him cursing, to your bed away rush yeBring us the laudanum phials! Mullion then Oh! for a caulker, Tickler,-on-onon ! Yes! shouting, roaring, rushing like the sca, thunder, and fire, onon-on-headlong-we, like a galled "Blaspheming--but as one possessed is lion, bounce into bed; and, after an he." "With hand upon his hilt, prepared stood he." "Not longer-why our services claims he?" "At distance might be seen-so toiled he." "Hurled at the Mede, with all his strength hurled he." "And mouth agape, a moment there stood he." hour's tossing, fall asleep like a tiger. After the exhibition Mr Atherstone has now made of himself, risum teneatis amici, when you think of him sneering at "this gay and flowery age's" disinclination and incapacity to listen, learn, and delight, in his severe and simple song? Why, begging his pardon, he is impertinent. Gay and "With chariots and with horsemen first flowery age indeed! He himself is bedizened with gaiety and flowers went he." |