display towards unmarried ladies of a certain state. All natural
histories teem with anecdotes illustrative of their excellent
qualities; and one old spelling-book in particular recounts a
touching instance of an old lion, of high moral dignity and stern
principle, who felt it his imperative duty to devour a young man
who had contracted a habit of swearing, as a striking example to
the rising generation.

All this is extremely pleasant to reflect upon, and, indeed, says a
very great deal in favour of lions as a mass. We are bound to
state, however, that such individual lions as we have happened to
fall in with have not put forth any very striking characteristics,
and have not acted up to the chivalrous character assigned them by
their chroniclers. We never saw a lion in what is called his
natural state, certainly; that is to say, we have never met a lion
out walking in a forest, or crouching in his lair under a tropical
sun, waiting till his dinner should happen to come by, hot from the
baker's. But we have seen some under the influence of captivity,
and the pressure of misfortune; and we must say that they appeared
to us very apathetic, heavy-headed fellows.

The lion at the Zoological Gardens, for instance. He is all very
well; he has an undeniable mane, and looks very fierce; but, Lord
bless us! what of that? The lions of the fashionable world look
just as ferocious, and are the most harmless creatures breathing.
A box-lobby lion or a Regent-street animal will put on a most
terrible aspect, and roar, fearfully, if you affront him; but he
will never bite, and, if you offer to attack him manfully, will
fairly turn tail and sneak off. Doubtless these creatures roam
about sometimes in herds, and, if they meet any especially meek-