An artist in Paris was anxious to draw one of the elephants of the menagerie there; with his trunk in the air, and his mouth wide open. After throwing fruit and vegetables in for some time, to make him repeat the attitude, his keeper only pretended to do so, fearing to give him too much food. The elephant at last became irritated, and perfectly understood that the artist was the cause of his annoyance; he, therefore, turned round upon him, and dashed a quantity of water over the paper on which he was drawing. It is chiefly in animals of greatest intelligence that we find the greatest affection and gratitude; elephants have sometimes refused to eat, and have pined to death when separated from their favourite keepers, and they are never obliterated from their memory. Their humanity is also frequently conspicuous; and we are told of one who, on being ordered to walk over the bodies of some sick persons, at first refused to advance; and then on being goaded by his driver, gently took the poor men up with his trunk, and laid them on one side, so that he could not do them any injury. The following is another fearful instance of their power and vengeance, related by Mr. Burchell, a South African traveller. "Carl Krieger was a fearless hunter, and being an excellent marksman, often ventured into the most dangerous situations. One day, having with his party pursued an elephant which he had wounded, the irritated animal suddenly turned round, and singling out from the rest the person by whom he had been injured, seized him with his trunk, and lifting his wretched victim high in the air, dashed him with dreadful force to the ground. His companions, struck with horror, fled precipitately from the fatal scene, unable to look back upon the rest of the dreadful tragedy; but on the following day, they repaired to the spot, where they collected the few bones that could be found, and buried them. The enraged animal had not only literally trampled Krieger's body to pieces, but did not feel its vengeance satisfied till it had pounded the very flesh and bones into the dust, so that nothing of the unfortunate man remained excepting a few of the latter, which made most resistance from their size." M. Frederic Cuvier, in his admirable essay on the "Domestication of Animals," writes as follows, concerning an elephant in the menagerie of the Jardin des Plantes. The care of this animal had been confided, when he was only three or four years old, to a young person, who taught him a number of those tricks which amuse the public. The animal loved him so much, as not only to be perfectly obedient to all his commands, but to be unhappy out of his presence. He rejected the kindness of every one else, and even was with difficulty persuaded to eat the food presented to him.