curse!  May they cause his sovereignty to perish!  May they pluck out the stability of the throne of his empire!  Let not his offspring survive him in the kingdom!  Let his servants be broken!  Let his troops be defeated!  Let him fly vanquished before his enemies!  May Vul in his fury tear up the produce of his land!  May a scarcity of food and of the necessaries of life afflict his country!  For one day may he not be called happy!  May his name and his race perish!”

The document is then dated—­“In the month Kuzalla (Chisleu), on the 29th day, in the year presided over by Inailiya-pallik, the Rabbi-Turi.”

Perhaps the most striking feature of this inscription, when it is compared with other historical documents of the same kind belonging to other ages and nations, is its intensely religious character.  The long and solemn invocation of the Great Gods with which it opens, the distinct ascription to their assistance and guardianship of the whole series of royal successes, whether in war or in the chase; the pervading idea that the wars were undertaken for the chastisement of the enemies of Asshur, and that their result was the establishment in an ever-widening circle of the worship of Asshur; the careful account which is given of the erection and renovation of temples, and the dedication of offerings; and the striking final prayer—­all these are so many proofs of the prominent place which religion held in the thoughts of the king who set up the inscription, and may fairly be accepted as indications of the general tone and temper of his people.  It is evident that we have here displayed to us, not a decent lip-service, not a conventional piety, but a real, hearty earnest religious faith—­a faith bordering on fanaticism—­a spirit akin to that with which the Jews were possessed in their warfare with the nations of Canaan, or which the soldiers of Mahomet breathed forth when they fleshed their maiden swords upon the infidels.  The king glorifies himself much; but he glorifies the gods more.  He fights, in part, for his own credit, and for the extension of his territory; but he fights also for the honor of the gods, whom the surrounding nations reject, and for the diffusion of their worship far and wide throughout all known regions.  His wars are religious wars, at least as much as wars of conquest; his buildings, or, at any rate, those on whose construction he dwells with most complacency, are religious buildings; the whole tone of his mind is deeply and sincerely religious; besides formal acknowledgments, he is continually letting drop little expressions which show that his gods are “in all his thoughts,” and represent to him real powers governing and directing all the various circumstances of human life.  The religious spirit displayed is, as might have been expected, in the highest degree exclusive and intolerant; but it is earnest, constant, and all-pervading.