proud hoofs, yet feeling his master's spirit, and anxious for the plunge amid the living,--at that moment--Alexander appeared the Hero of the World! He might have remained so,--but the moment passed and for ever!--he descended, as it were, from his moral elevation, like an avalanche of crime upon the already blood-stained vale beneath! His example was followed by Hephæstion, old Clytus, Parmenio and the troop of future kings,--horsemen,--the triple-guarded Phalanx,--cohorts of archers,--"the whole camp, pioneers and all;"--fire, spear, and sword were carried into every quarter of the capital. While the Metropolis was wrapt in flames by the foot-soldiery, and murdered women and children fell in every street,--the Conqueror and his Cavalry attacked the avenues leading to the Temple,--every pathway to that Edifice was defended with a patriotic devotion, and a Religious fanaticism! While thus every passage was nobly defended, and attention directed to those quarters, the few _Sidonian Galleys_ received on board their living freights,--_Families_,--_Men_, _Women_, and _Children_,--cleared the harbour unobserved, and upon the gradual lessening of the storm of elements, they reached the open Sea in safety:--Thus were the _Prophesied_ "gleanings" of the Nation rescued! Azelmic, Priests, and People disputed with devoted heroism the area to the Temple of the kingdom--it was passed, but over the dead bodies of hundreds of the defenders,--every step to the platform of the edifice was dyed with human gore;--ascending the steps over his crimson pathway, Alexander, followed by Hephæstion and his favourites, reached the chief entrance, through which Azelmic had rushed into the interior of the Temple,--the Conqueror instantly dismounted (followed by his officers), and pursued the apparent Fugitive, in order to capture with his own hands the Monarch of the Nation;--he entered the sacred court of worship over the dead bodies of mangled priests,--when suddenly the Standard of the Granicus dropped from his hand, and was stained and effaced with sacrilegious blood,--while himself and his officers fell back in Religious awe, and were transfixed with heroic admiration!--for the Last King of Tyrus, so far from retreating, had sprung, sword in hand, upon the Altar of the Nation,--and throwing his despairing arms around the image of Apollo, resolved to defend--even to the death--the enchained Statue of his Country and his God! Which was the Hero then?--the Patriot or the Invader? So noble a picture of Patriotism, the Conqueror had in vain looked for in the pages of the Iliad,--the inspiring Volume to invasions and his victories. Amid all the Sons of Priam and of Troy, there was not one Azelmic;--and his true glory was indeed brilliant, for Alexander's was dimmed and lost before it;--like a Planet of the Night, when the star-discovering shade of Earth, is dispelled by the dawning Sun!