AS ONE who, long in thickets and in brakes
Entangled, winds now this way and now that
His devious course uncertain, seeking home;
Or, having long in miry ways been foil'd,
And sore discomfited, from slough to slough
Plunging, and half-despairing of escape;
If chance at length he finds a greensward
smooth

And faithful to the foot, his spirits rise,
He chirrups brisk his ear-erecting steed,
And winds his way with pleasure and with ease;
So I, designing other themes, and call'd
To adorn the sofa with eulogium due,
To tell its slumbers, and to paint its dreams,
Have rambled wide. In country, city, seat
Of academic fame, (howe'er deserved,)
Long held, and scarcely disengaged at last.
But now with pleasant pace a cleanlier road
I mean to tread. I feel myself at large,
Courageous, and refresh'd for future toil,
If toil awaits me, or if dangers new.

Since pulpits fail, and sounding-boards reflect
Most part an empty, ineffectual sound,
What chance that I, to fame so little known,
Nor conversant with men or manners much,
Should speak to purpose, or with better hope
Crack the satiric thong? "Twere wiser far
For me, enamor'd of sequester'd scenes,
And charm'd with rural beauty, to repose,
Where chance may throw me, beneath elm or
vine,

My languid limbs, when summer sears the plains;

VOL. VIII.-39

Or, when rough winter rages on the soft
And shelter'd sofa, while the nitrous air
Feeds a blue flame, and makes a cheerful
hearth;

There, undisturb'd by folly, and apprised
How great the danger of disturbing her,
To muse in silence, or at least confine
Remarks that gall so many to the few,
My partners in retreat. Disgust conceal'd
Is ofttimes proof of wisdom, when the fault
Is obstinate, and cure beyond our reach.
Domestic happiness, thou only bliss

Of Paradise that hast survived the fall!
Though few now taste thee unimpair'd and pure,
Or tasting, long enjoy thee! too infirm,
Or too incautious, to preserve thy sweets
Unmix'd with drops of bitter, which neglect
Or temper sheds into thy crystal cup;
Thou art the nurse of Virtue, in thine arms
She smiles, appearing, as in truth she is,
Heaven-born, and destined to the skies again.

THE CHASE.

O FRIENDLY to the best pursuits of man, Friendly to thought, to virtue, and to peace, Domestic life in rural pleasure pass'd! Few know thy value, and few taste thy sweets; Though many boast thy favors, and affect To understand and choose thee for their own. But foolish man foregoes his proper bliss, E'en as his first progenitor, and quits,

Has never heard the sanguinary yell
Of cruel man, exulting in her woes.
Innocent partner of my peaceful home,
Whom ten long years' experience of my care
Has made at last familiar; she has lost
Much of her vigilant instinctive dread,
Not needful here, beneath a roof like mine.
Yes-thou mayst eat thy bread, and lick the
hand

That feeds thee; thou mayst frolic on the floor

At evening, at night retire secure

To thy straw couch, and slumber unalarm'd;
For I have gain'd thy confidence, have pledged
All that is human in me to protect
Thine unsuspecting gratitude and love.
If I survive thee, I will dig thy grave;
And, when I place thee in it, sighing say
I knew at least one hare that had a friend.

THE CHURCH.

THE pulpit, therefore, (and I name it fill'd With solemn awe, that bids me well beware With what intent I touch that holy thing)The pulpit (when the satirist has at last, Strutting and vaporing in an empty school, Spent all his force, and made no proselyte)I say the pulpit (in the sober use

Of its legitimate, peculiar powers)

The most important and effectual guard,
Support, and ornament of virtue's cause.
There stands the messenger of truth: there
stands

The legate of the skies! His theme divine,
His office sacred, his credentials clear.
By him the violated law speaks out

Its thunders; and by him, in strains as

sweet

As angels use, the Gospel whispers peace.
He stablishes the strong, restores the weak,
Reclaims the wanderer, binds the broken
heart,

And, arm'd himself in panoply complete

Of heavenly temper, furnishes with arms
Bright as his own, and trains, by every rule
Of holy discipline, to glorious war,

The sacramental host of God's elect!

Are all such teachers? would to heaven all were !

But hark-the doctor's voice! fast wedged between

Two empirics he stands, and with swoln cheeks

Inspires the news, his trumpet. Keener far
Than all invective is his bold harangue,
While through that public organ of report
He hails the clergy; and, defying shame,
Announces to the world his own and theirs!
He teaches those to read, whom schools dis-
miss'd,

And colleges, untaught; sells accent, tone,
And emphasis in score, and gives to prayer
The adagio and andante it demands.
He grinds divinity of other days

Down into modern use; transforms old print
To zigzag manuscript, and cheats the eyes
Of gallery critics by a thousand arts.

Are there who purchase of the doctor's ware?

O, name it not in Gath! it cannot be, That grave and learned clerks should need such aid.

He doubtless is in sport, and does but droll,

stand,

Grand caterer and dry-nurse of the church!

A

USTEN HENRY LAYARD is the descendant of French Protestant refugees. His family seems to have long been distinguished for mental talent and independence some branches of it were among the earliest supporters of the persecuted Albigenses; but, notwithstanding their known leaning toward unorthodox religious opinions, they appear to have received both honors and profitable grants from the kings of France. But when the day of trial arrived, they had their share of miseries. In the slaughter of the Huguenots, two members of the family perished; but a third, more fortunate, succeeded in escaping to Holland, where the Layards commenced a new career.

Their first appearance in England was under William of Orange; and in the list of those who held command under that Protestant prince, when he fought the battle of the Boyne, will be found the name of the father of the English branch of the family.

Previous to the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, the name had been Raymond; but Layard was taken as a sobriquet, when its owner fled from France, and has

since been retained by the descendants of the religious exile. The mental characteristics that secured them distinction in Holland, prepare us to find that the family throve in their adopted country; and the grandfather of the discoverer of Nineveh, the Rev. Dr. Layard, became Dean of Bristol. The dean had two sons; the second, Henry Peter John Layard, held an important civil post in Ceylon, where, between the years 1820 and 1830, he distinguished himself by his great activity in the dissemination of the Scriptures among the savage tribes of that part of the world. He is described as a man of much classical learning and of cultivated taste. Like all persons engaged in official occupations in the East, Mr. Layard required an occasional recourse to the more genial climate of Europe. During a visit to Paris in 1817, his wife gave birth, on the 5th of March, to Austen Henry Layard, the man whose name will henceforth be identified with Nineveh.

Mr. Layard's family having fixed their abode in Italy, the future traveler became acquainted, at a very early period of his life, both with the finest specimens of art,

success.

When of sufficient age to start upon the business of life, Austen Layard was intended for the law, and he began its study under the most favorable circumstances. But he had, as it seems, already contracted a passion for travels, which could not very well be satisfied by excursions from Lincoln's Inn to Westminster Hall. Blackstone was soon relinquished, briefs soon left to be filed by more ambitious legists, and in 1839, the votary of Themis set out with a friend on a course of travel, which led him to various points in the North of Europe. He wandered about Germany, marking the languages of the different states through which he passed; he spent some time in Dalmatia, and at last, directing his course to Montenegro, he came to Constantinople by way of Roumelia and Albania. It was quite natural that he should feel anxious to cross the Bosphorus, and to explore the vast field which unfolds itself before the steps of Oriental travelers. He accordingly set to work; learned the languages of Turkey and Arabia, familiarized himself with the manners and habits of the Eastern world, and started upon a new expedition. He is said to have been often mistaken for an Arab of the desert, such was the ease with which he had overcome every difficulty that stood in his way. He visited Persia, Mesopotamia, Khuzistan, and other districts, chiefly directing his attention to those spots which were of historic interest. He published, from time to time, some records of his wanderings, and the journals of the London Geographical Society contain particulars on that subject, full of useful information in more than one respect. In all his journeys, Mr. Layard contrived to live with the strictest economy, eating and drinking cheerfully what the country afforded, however rough it might be. When he first found himself at Mosul, near the mound of Nimroud, he felt an irresistible desire to make researches of some kind on the spot to which history and tradition point as "the birthplace of the wisdom of the West." VOL. VIII.-40

man.

In the summer of 1842 he made the acquaintance of M. Botta, who, located at Mosul as French consul, had commenced excavations in the great mound of Kouyunjik. This occurrence, and the success M. Botta met with, roused to its highest pitch the energy of the EnglishHe set out for Constantinople in order to secure, if possible, the means of carrying on a system of investigation which might produce results similar to those obtained by M. Botta. For a long time Mr. Layard's application received no encouragement. At last, in the autumn of 1845, through the munificence of Sir Stratford Canning, he was enabled to commence his long-desired labors. He accomplished in twelve days the voyage from Constantinople to Mosul.

The difficulties which Mr. Layard had to cope with at the outset of his endeavors were of a nature to have discouraged any one but the real enthusiast in the cause of science. Accompanied by Mr. Ross, a British merchant in Mosul, his own cawass, and a servant, he descended the Tigris to Nimroud in five hours, and at sunset reached the Arab village of Naifa-Awad. A sheikh of the Jehesh, in whose house he lodged, entered his service, and speedily engaged six Arabs to assist in the excavations. In the principal mound, only twenty minutes' walk from the village, about eighteen hundred feet long, nine hundred broad, and sixty-five high, supposed to be the pyramid of Xenophon, they found fragments with cuneiform inscriptions; and in the course of the morning ten large slabs, forming a square, were uncovered, being the top of a chamber, with an entrance at the northwest corner, where a slab was wanting. Cuneiform inscriptions filled the center of all the slabs, which were in the highest preservation. The amount of the discoveries thus