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gerous rivers, both out and home. It was not until their arrival at the British Museum that these bas-reliefs were recognized as having originally ornamented an immense pair of rectangular folding gates, probably of cedar, each leaf being about 22 feet high, 6 feet broad, and 3 inches thick. The height was deduced from the length of the two strips of bronze edging found with this set of bas-reliefs, which it was seen must have been nailed upon those portions of the gates where they clipped, and which are technically called the styles." The "style" bronzes are inscribed with a history in duplicate of the first nine years of Shalmaneser's reign, these inscriptions on the vertical edgings thus furnishing the text, to which the chasings on the fourteen rilievi, seven for each leaf, nailed horizontally across the gates at equal distances, add most artistic and telling illustrations. The doorposts were cylindrical, and about a foot and a quarter in diameter, as is inferred from the existing bulge of several of the best-preserved horizontal plates, which at that end are shaped like a drum. Between the inner edge of the drum and the style the distance is 4 feet, as measured in the writer's presence by the British Museum expert, Mr. Ready, who was the first to identify as a pair of gates this unique and grand Assyrian monument-which, added to the diameter of the drum, gives a total breadth of six feet for each leaf, as above. The posts were shod with pivots, on which the gates turned in sockets, being held up at the top by strong rings fixed in the masonry. The pivots are at the Museum, but the sockets and rings are unfortunately missing,

The inscription on the "styles," although fuller for the period it embraces than the other great historical texts of Shalmaneser II., is found to be very carelessly engraved, besides neglecting the strict chronological order of events. As yet it has been only very partially translated. Of the horizontal chased bands a large proportion are in a sadly fragmentary state. The subjects are nearly always indicated by short legends accompanying the pictures. Thus the titles of a couple of plates, which at the date of the visit spoken of above to the British Museum were likely to be soonest added to the four already on public view, consist of but a few words put into the triumphant king's mouth. On the upper band of the first plate he says, "The city Arnè of Arame I captured. on the lower band, The city (name undeciphered) of Arame son of Gusi I captured." The legends of the other bronze, relating to the same Armenian war, are for the upper and lower tiers respectively, "The capital of Arame of the people of Ararat I captured ”— The tribute of the Gozanians." To the same war belongs one of the four bronze bas-reliefs already publicly shown. Over the upper tableau we read, An image of my Majesty over against the sea of the land of Nairi (the modern Lake Van) I set up, victims to my gods I sacrificed;" over the lower, "The city Saguni of Arame king of Ararat I captured," Over the representation of captives coming be

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fore the king in a rocky country, given on the upper band of another of the four, there is no legend; in the lower the king says, The royal city of Rizuta I captured-in the fire I burnt." The other two both belong to the great Syrian war in which the Benhadad and Ahab of the Bible, with their allies, were so signally defeated. On both bands of the one bronze is read the legend, The tribute of Sangara of the Carchemishians I received," and in both instances it surmounts a representation of the city Carchemish, taken, however, from different points of view. It will be remembered that, accord-, ing to the Kurkh inscription, Sangara, king of Carchemish, was a member of the Syrian League. Another prominent leader was the Hamathite King Urkhileni, and to the loss of three of his cities the bas reliefs on the last of the four horizontal plates, first shown at the Museum, refer. The upper row is superscribed, "The city Parga of Urkhileni of the Hamathites I captured," and in the same line, "The city Ada I captured." Beneath either legend is depicted, in the same noble style of art characteristic of the monument throughout, the beleaguering of the walls by the Assyrian hosts, and from the arrangement of the scenes to right and left of Shalmaneser's camp it is thought that the two sieges must have been going on at one and the same time. Parga, to the left, seems to have been the stronger of the two, since it is attacked by the battering-ram, which, armed with its formidably pointed head, is seen advancing up the slopes of the hill crowned by the battlemented towers. On the other side a strong body of archers protected by an immense covering shield are drawing the bow against the garrison. The chariots with their prancing horses and exulting warriors seem to have cleared the way, like cavalry in the times before artillery superseded its functions, for these decisive operations. In the siege of Ada the King himself shoots the arrow against it. The legend over the lower row of bas-reliefs reads, "The city Karkar of Urkhileni of the Hamathites I took." It was near this important city on the river Orontes, which has been identified with Aroer, that as will be recollected, the decisive battle of the campaign was fought. Here then we have for the first time before our eyes in a contemporary work of art the very scene and catastrophe, so to speak, of the tragedy in which Ahab and Benhadad were conspicuous actors. The drama has its beginning, middle, and end. In one Assyrian tent we see the inauguration of the siege with religious rites, whilst in another goes forward the work of the commissariat department. One woman before her kneading-trough is making loaves for the troops, which a second bakes in a round field-oven, whilst a third piles them up in a field overtopping their heads. The beleaguering army is depicted with great spirit, both in the moment of its being led forth in bounding chariots to the assault, and as it returns in triumph to the royal pavilion, in which, as the centre of the whole representation, we seem to hear Shalmaneser from his throne antici.

pating Cæsar's boast, "I came, I saw, I conquered." Guarded by their conquerers, and introduced by court officials, envoys of high rank, who have fled from the burning city, present to the king their tribute of gold, silver, copper, changes of raiment, and horses, while a long file of wretched captives brings up the rear. To the extreme left is seen Karkar in flames. Alike as a work of high art, such as could hardly have been looked for from Assyria in the ninth century before the Christian era, and for its interesting association with the history of Biblical personages, it will be owned on all hands to be a most striking tableau.

BASIL H. COOPER, in Sunday Magazine.

ENTOMOLOGY.

"I SHOULD ha' forgot it; I should certainly ha' forgot it," was the exclamation of Mr. Samuel Weller on a well-known occasion; and it was the same phenomenon which acted thus upon the mind of that distinguished character that recalled to the recollection of the present writer an almost forgotten intention to say a few words in praise of the study of Entomology. I can hardly hope to produce anything at all equal to those flowers of eloquence which bloomed in Mr. Weller's valentine under the genial influence of “nine-penn'orth of brandy-andwater, luke;" but the spring of the year seems to be a peculiarly appropriate season for the publication of a plea for entomology, a department of natural history the scientific importance of which seems hardly to be sufficiently recognised, and I must trust to the good nature of the reader to forgive any deficiencies that may be apparent in the present article under the comparison that I have so injudiciously provoked.

It must be confessed that there were few indications of spring in the weather at the time when the shopwindows this year displayed those tempting absurdities, which, we may presume, a good many people find pleasure in sending to each other, seeing that their delivery leads to the practical result of a great increase in the postman's labour; but, on the other hand, the matter to which I wish to direct the reader's attention has its interest at all periods of the year, although there is, perhaps, a special fitness at the present season in delivering a lecture on the study of entomology. For while it is quite true that even in winter many exceedingly interesting insects are to be met with, generally by hunting them up in their places of concealment among moss, under the bark of trees, under stones, and in other recondite places, it must be confessed that the entomologist's great harvest is to be reaped during the other three seasons

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of the year, and it is certainly advantageous for the beginner to commence his researches at a time when the abundance of insect life surrounding him in all directions, and forcing itself, as it were, upon his notice in all his walks, offers a constant succession of objects of interest. In the spring, when all nature wakes from the torpor of winter, this is especially the case. With the first days of sunshine thousands of insects make their appearance-the solitary bees and sandwasps are to be seen emerging from the galleries in which they have passed their early stages, or flying busily about the flowers and hovering over the banks of sand or clay in which they are about to burrow and deposit their eggs; the brilliant tiger-beetles flit about sandy lanes and commons, sparkling in the sunlight like living emeralds; the field-paths glitter in the morning with the small carnivorous beetles commonly known as 'sunshiners," whose place is taken in the evening by their larger relatives, the great ground beetles (Carabus); plenty of that multitude of beetles of various groups which deposit their eggs in the droppings of horses and cattle are seen flying stead ly through the air; on the surface of still waters the whirligig-beetle is enjoying his mystic circular dance, while from time to time the waterbeetles come quietly up, and, after applying their tails for a moment to the surface, in search of air, plunge down again into the depths; or the water-boatman (Notonecta) hangs for a short time in a similar position, with his long oar-like legs outspread ready for action on the least alarm; and even a few early butterflies, the beautiful "Brimstone" especially, flutter gaily through the air. On a fine day in spring or early summer the entomologist perhaps of all men in this blasé nineteenth century realises most fully the charm of old Izaak Walton's pastoral. Entomology may not improperly be denominated the modern Contemplative Man's Recreation."

It is unnecessary, and would lead me too far, to expatiate on the insect phenomena of the summer and autumn-on the succession of new forms which replace or mingle with those of the springtide, and keep the interest of the entomologist alive until quite late in the year. But there is one point which I would urge upon the beginner in the study of insects, and that is to yield to that instinct which is sure to prompt him at first to collect and gain some knowledge of all the forms which attract his attention, before sitting down to the special investigation of some one department which is almost equally certain to be the result of his further progress. It is only by this means that the full benefit of the study which it is my desire to recommend to the reader can be obtained.

It is, perhaps, hardly necessary at this time of day to vindicate the study of entomology, or indeed of any branch of zoology, from the charge of being merely the amusement of contemptibly frivolous minds. A century ago such a notion was by no means uncommon; and although some writers of that age occasionally touched upon subjects of natural history, this was done

with a tone of conscious superiority, which sounds almost as if the gentlemen in question felt that they were patronising Nature by condescending to take any notice of her productions. The entomologist, especially, was always somewhat of an object of pity, a sort of harmless lunatic. Dr. Johnson, we may fancy, would place him just a step or two higher than that young man who was last heard of “running about town shooting cats; " with others he was a virtuoso, and we all know pretty well what that term indicated; and even Richardson, the mild idol of the tea-table, refers to natural-history pursuits in a fashion which may be taken to indicate pretty clearly the estimation in which they were held in his day. Lady G., Sir Charles Grandison's sister, writes of her husband: "He will give away to a virtuoso friend his collection of moths and butterflies: I once, he remembered, rallied him upon them. 'And by what study,' thought I, 'wilt thou, honest man, supply their place? If thou hast a talent this way, pursue it; since perhaps thou wilt not shine in any other.' And the best of anything, you know, Harriet, carries with it the appearance of excellence. Nay, he would also part with his collection of shells, if I had no objection. 'To whom, my lord?' He had not resolved. 'Why, then, only as Emily is too little of a child, (!) or you might give them to He has taken my hint, and has presented his collection of shells to Emily; and they two are actually busied in admiring them; the one strutting over the beauties, in order to enhance the value of the present; the other curtseying ten times in a minute, to show her gratitude. Poor man! when his virtuoso friend has got his butterflies and moths, I am afraid he must set up a turner's shop for employment." There! isn't the badinage delightful? And, as if to point the moral, "a fine set of Japan china with brown edges" is spoken of in the same letter in terms of appreciation, although the fussiness of my Lord G. in connection therewith receives a stroke or two. gentle, moral Richardson evidently thought entomologists a somewhat contemptible race, as, at a later period, did that redoubtable satirist, “Peter Pindar," whose descriptions of Sir Joseph Banks in pursuit of the "Emperor of Morocco,” and boiling fleas to ascertain whether they were lobsters, are pretty well known.

her.'

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If we consider the origin of this contempt, which undoubtedly until comparatively recent times did pursue the unfortunate entomologist, we may pretty safely refer it to two causes: in the first place, the ignorance of all natural-history matters which must have prevailed in a society in which Oliver Goldsmith shone as a naturalist; and in the second to the fact, that most of the entomologists of the time were really mere collectors of insects as pretty things, to whom, therefore, the term virtuoso was peculiarly applicable. But the mere collecting of insects is surely at least as good as any other manifestation of the cacoethes colligendi which is so general an affection of humanity, and which leads to the accumulation of books in good bindings, of coins and medals, old china, statues, and other works of art, by people who have no true apprecia