ws off his knowledge of natural history, in telling us
that the said lion, in roaring, "laid his monstrous mouth close to the
floor." We believe he does so; but did Mr Atherstone learn the fact from
Cuvier or from Wombwell? It is always dangerous to a poet to be too
picturesque; and in this case, you are made, whether you will or no, to
see an old, red, lean, mangy monster, called a lion, in his unhappy den
in a menagerie, bathing his beard in the sawdust, and from his toothless
jaws "breathing hot roarings out," to the terror of servant-girls and
children, in fierce reply to a man in a hairy cap and full suit of
velveteen, stirring him up with a long pole, and denominating him by the
sacred name of the great asserter of Scottish independence.

Sir Humphry Davy--in his own science the first man of his age--does not
shine in his "Salmonia"--pleasant volume though it be--as an
ornithologist. Let us see.

"POIET.--The scenery improves as we advance nearer the lower parts of
the lake. The mountains become higher, and that small island or
peninsula presents a bold craggy outline; and the birch-wood below it,
and the pines above, make a scene somewhat Alpine in character. But what
is that large bird soaring above the pointed rock, towards the end of
the lake? Surely it is an eagle!

"HAL.--You are right; it is an eagle, and of a rare and peculiar
species--the grey or silver eagle, a noble bird! From the size of the
animal, it must be the female; and her eyrie is in that high rock. I
dare say the male is not far off."

Sir Humphry speaks in his introductory pages of Mr Wordsworth as a lover
of fishing and fishermen; and we cannot help thinking and feeling that
he intends Poietes as an image of that great Poet. What! William
Wordsworth, the very high-priest of nature, represented to have seen an
eagle for the first time of his life only then, and to have boldly
ventured on a conjecture that such was the name and nature of the bird!
"But what is that large bird soaring above the pointed rock, towards the
end of the lake? Surely it is an eagle!" "Yes, you are right--it is an
eagle." Ha--ha--ha--ha--ha--ha! Sir Humphry--Sir Humphry--that guffaw
was not ours--it came from the Bard of Rydal--albeit unused to the
laughing mood--in the haunted twilight of that beautiful--that solemn
Terrace.

Poietes having been confirmed, by the authority of Halieus, in his
belief that the bird is an eagle, exclaims, agreeably to the part he
pl