The Lion has, within the present century, lost caste, and fallen considerably from his high estate. He has been stripped of much of his conventional reputation by the spirit of inquiry into the validity of olden notions, which characterises the present age; and it appears that much of his celebrity is founded upon popular error. Nor are these results the work of stay-at-home travellers; but they are derived from the observation and experience of those who, amidst scenes of perilous adventure, seek to enlarge and correct our views of the habit and character of the overrated Lion. Mr. Bennett, in his admirable work, "The Tower Menagerie," has these very sensible remarks:--"In speaking of the Lion we call up to our imaginations the splendid picture of might unmingled with ferocity, of courage undebased by guile, of dignity tempered by grace and ennobled by generosity. Such is the Lion of Buffon; who, in describing this animal, as in too many other instances, has suffered himself to be borne along by the strong tide of popular opinion; but, as the Lion appears in his native regions, according to the authentic accounts of those travellers and naturalists who have had the best means of correctly observing his habits, he is by no means so admirable a creature. Where the timid antelope and powerless monkey fall his easy and unresisting prey--or where the elephant and buffalo find their unwieldy bulk and strength no adequate protection against his impetuous agility--he stalks boldly to and fro in fearless majesty. But in the neighbourhood of man--even in that of uncultivated savages--_he skulks in treacherous ambush for his prey_. Of his forbearance and generosity it can merely be said, that when free, he destroys only what is sufficient to satiate his hunger or revenge; and when in captivity--his wants being provided for, and his feelings not irritated--he suffers smaller animals to live unmolested in his den, or submits to the control of a keeper by whom he is fed. But even this limited degree of docility is liable to fearful interruptions from the calls of hunger, the feelings of revenge--and these he frequently cherishes for a long period--with various other circumstances which render it dangerous to approach him in his most domesticated state, without ascertaining his immediate mood and temper. That an animal which seldom attacks by open force, but silently approaches his victim, and when he imagines his prey to be within his reach, bounds upon it with an overwhelming leap, should ever have been regarded as the type of courage and the emblem of magnanimity, is indeed most astonishing!"