very little have we advanced in our knowledge of these instruments, that it appears from Mr. Layard's account of his removal of the bulls and lions from the shores of the Tigris to the British Museum, that he actually employed the very same means to effect their transmission as the Assyrians used themselves, ages upon ages since, when they first deposited the beasts before the palace-gates. The King of Assyria himself is represented superintending the building of the mounds upon which the palace with its bulls is to be built. This king, as the cuneiform inscription shows, is Sennacherib; and the sculptures, as Rawlinson and the initiated are permitted to read, celebrate the building at Nineveh of the great palace and its adjacent temples-the work of this great king. The inscriptions on the bulls at Konyunjik record most minutely the manner in which the edifice was built, its general plan, and the various materials employed in decorating the halls, chambers, and roofs. Some of the inscriptions have a thrilling interest. They indicate that the Jews, taken in captivity by the Assyrian king, were compelled to assist in the erection of the palaces of their conquerors, and that wood for the building was brought from Mount Lebanon, precisely as Solomon had conveyed its cedars for the choice woodwork of the temple of the Lord. There is an awful strangeness in being thus brought face to face, as it were, with the solemn mysteries of the Bible, and with our own earliest sacred recollections.-Abridged from "the Times.”›

(To be continued.)

"FOLLOW THE OWL, AND SHE WILL LEAD THEE TO RUIN."

ONCE upon a time, on a fine summer's evening, might have been seen an old church. The moon was shining full upon it, and showing out all its beautiful proportions. It had also a tall tower, covered with ivy, round which the wind, when it was in a bad humour, which was pretty often the case, used to howl, and whisk the leaves about out of pure spite-the wind, like the rest of the world, not much liking to find any thing in its way when it wanted a clear open country to blow over.

Well, there was no wind on the night of which I am speaking. It was so still that not a breath stirred the ivy-the earth and sky both seemed at a stand-still together, for want of something to do, all but the moon, that moved slowly and lazily over the church tower, and looked almost as quiet as every thing else.

But it does not do to judge from appearances, and the young lady in the village who wrote poetry, and used to gaze pensively at the old church-tower from her bed-room window, in order that she might have great ideas, would have been very much astonished if she had known what was going on inside. In that tower there had lived for more years than the oldest man in the village could remember, a select company of owls and bats. The owls used to look down upon the bats, as they did upon every body, for they were of opinion that all the good blood there was in the world flowed

in their veins. Indeed, they considered that the smaller birds were only allowed to live at all to supply them with food, so you may imagine what very great people they made themselves out to be. "It was," they said, "their tower, and they did not pretend to know how the bats came there at all!" So whenever the latter flew past any corner where the owls happened to be, they used to see them open their great eyes and look askance, as if they had never seen them before, and could not imagine what sort of creatures they were.

"The bats," they were heard to say, 66 were the most plebeian of all the common creatures. Their eyes were so remarkably small! Nobody who did not possess the true round eye that always went with their family, could belong to the aristocracy! And then they were always gadding about in the summer, living, probably, at other people's expense, instead of staying at home like respectable people!"

"It is quite absurd," observed an old mother owl, "the way they try to ape us by flying about in the night; after all the trouble that has been taken by putting people to sleep, to insure our having the world to ourselves when we go abroad, it really is provoking."

"And to see the way they move," her daughter added. "They have not an idea of sailing along in a proper fashionable manner, but they go skimming about in a style that is really quite uncomfortable for respectable people to see. The best thing we can do is to take no notice of them, and then I dare say in a little while we

shall forget that they have any existence at all."

So the owls, one and all, agreed that the bats should be excluded from their society, and some of the young bats were made very low and unhappy in consequence. On the night I have mentioned the owls had, most of them, returned from a short flight, and were now assembled on the particular ledge where they were accustomed to meet after supper, before retiring to rest, to discuss the events of the night. Hanging on a wall hard by, above their heads, was a mammabat and her two daughters. One of them, called Long-wing, was considered very good-looking, with a slight body and elegant pair of wings; the other was not so pretty, and was named Smallear. Long-wing appeared in a very dejected state, and was refusing to taste a fly with which her sister had just flown into the tower, thinking it might tempt her to change her resolution, and eat some supper.

"It is of no use, Small-ear," she said, "you mean well, but I am too much out of spirits to eat. I cannot bear wasting my life in this ignoble manner, and to pass my youth in inferior society. I want to mix in the fashionable world; but you see, bats as we are, the owls will never notice us."

"You are quite as pretty as any owl that ever existed," her sister answered; "and, after all, I do not see why they give themselves such airs, and pretend to set the fashion. They are not really any better than we are."

"It is very fine talking, Small-ear; you see

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they do hold themselves far above us; here have I been displaying my wings just over their heads, and not one of them has looked up at me, and you know our distant relations, the mice, often fall a victim to their rapacity. I should not wonder if they were to take it into their heads some day to try if we were good for food." They have not every thing quite so much their own way as that," Small-ear answered good-humouredly. "Now I will tell you what I saw the other day. One of them, Mrs. Shorttail down there, happened to be out later than usual-I suppose she had a mind to see the sun rise, and no doubt she thought that as long as she chose to stay abroad none of the other birds would dare to get up and show their faces; but she soon found out her mistake, for Mrs. Blackbird, and Mrs. Thrush, who are, you know, remarkably early risers, no sooner saw her than they determined to punish her for the airs she gives herself; so they called their neighbours together, and went in a body to tell her how very ridiculous she made herself. Mrs. Short-tail at first pretended she did not see them, and the more they talked the harder she stared at the sun; but then they grew bolder, and said such impertinent things that she could not help showing that she heard. However, for all that, she had not a word to say in reply, only moved her head about awkwardly from side to side; and at last she flew away without uttering a syllable, and all the other birds hooting after her. So since then I have lost my respect for them all.” "You are a very bold bat, Small-ear," their