The generosity of disposition so liberally accorded to this powerful beast has been much and eloquently praised; and it seems hard to dissipate the glowing vision which Buffon has raised; but, if there is any dependence to be placed on the observations of those travellers who have had the best opportunities of judging, and have the highest character for veracity, we must be compelled to acknowledge that Buffon's Lion is the Lion of poetry and prejudice, and very unlike the cautious lurking savage that steals on its comparatively weak prey by surprise, overwhelms it at once by the terror, the weight, and the violence of the attack, and is intent only on the gratification of the appetite. "At the time," says Mr. Burchell, "when men first adopted the Lion as the emblem of courage, it would seem that they regarded great size and strength as indicating it; but they were greatly mistaken in the character they had given of the indolent animal." Indeed, Mr. Burchell calls the Lion an "indolent skulking animal." The fact of the Lion sparing the dog that was thrown to him, and making a friend of the little animal that was destined for his prey, has been much dwelt on; but these and other such acts of mercy, as they have been called, may be very easily accounted for. If not pressed by hunger, the Lion will seldom be at the trouble of killing prey; and the desire for a companion has created much stronger friendships between animals in confinement than between a Lion and a little dog. St. Pierre touchingly describes the Lion of Versailles, who, in 1792, lived most happily with a dog, and on whose death he became disconsolate and miserable; and in confinement the "lordly Lion," as Young calls him, has been known to be deeply afflicted with melancholy at similar losses. The Lion is easily tamed, and capable of attachment to man. The story of Androdas, frequently called Androcles, is too well known to need more than allusion; but in this and other stories of Lions licking men's hands without injuring them, there must be a stretch of fancy; for the Lion's tongue has sharp thorn-points, inclining backwards, so as not to be able to lick the hand without tearing away the skin, which any one will understand who has _heard_ the Lion tear the raw meat away from the bone of his food. Still, very different accounts are given by travellers of the cruelty or generosity of the Lion's nature; which results, in all probability, from a difference in time or circumstances, or the degree of hunger which the individual experienced when the respective observations were made upon him. Meanwhile, there are many points in the history of the Lion which are yet but imperfectly understood; the explanations of which, whilst they are interesting, add to our correct knowledge of this still extraordinary animal.