Designer	Engraver
1	Lion couchant, Frontispiece	Edwin Landseer	T. Landseer
2	Leopard, after Ridinger	Spilsbury	T. Landseer
3	Lions, after Rubens	Spilsbury	T. Landseer
4	Tiger, from Nature	Spilsbury	T. Landseer
5	Leopards, after Rubens	Spilsbury	T. Landseer
6	Contending Group, from Nature	Edwin Landseer	T. Landseer
7	Lion and Snake, from Nature	Spilsbury	T. Landseer
8	Senegal Lion and Lioness, after Ridinger	Spilsbury	T. Landseer
9	Lion and Tiger, after Stubbs	Spilsbury	T. Landseer
10	Tigress, from Nature	T. Landseer	T. Landseer
11	Lions, after Rubens	Spilsbury	T. Landseer
12	Panthers, after Stubbs	Spilsbury	T. Landseer
13	Panthers, after Stubbs	Spilsbury	T. Landseer
14	Leopards and Panthers, after Stubbs	Spilsbury	T. Landseer
15	Lions, after Rubens	Spilsbury	T. Landseer
16	Lions, after Rubens	Spilsbury	T. Landseer
17	Lioness and Bitch, from Cross’s Menagerie	Edwin Landseer	T. Landseer
18	Lion, after Ridinger	Spilsbury	T. Landseer
19	Tiger and Indian Bullock, from Nature	Edwin Landseer	T. Landseer
20	{ Senegal Lion, after Ridinger { Black-maned Lion, after Rembrandt { Lioness, after Ridinger	} } Spilsbury }	T. Landseer
21	Neptune, a Newfoundland Dog	Edwin Landseer	T. Landseer
22	Brutus, a Terrier	Edwin Landseer	T. Landseer
23	Portrait of a Cross of the Dog and Fox	Edwin Landseer	T. Landseer
24	Dogs setting a Hare	Edwin Landseer	T. Landseer
25	Vixen, a Scotch Terrier	Edwin Landseer	T. Landseer
26	Fox Hounds of the Hatfield Hunt	Edwin Landseer	T. Landseer
27	Proctor, Study of a Blood-hound’s Head	Edwin Landseer	T. Landseer
28	Bob, a favourite Terrier	Edwin Landseer	T. Landseer
29	The Poacher, “The Wily Fox”	Edwin Landseer	T. Landseer
30	Alpine Mastiff	Edwin Landseer	T. Landseer
31	Old Dog looks like a Picture	Edwin Landseer	J. Webb
32	Fight between “Jacko Maccacco,” a celebrated Monkey, and Mr. Thos. Cribb’s well known bitch “Puss”	} } T. } Landseer }	T. Landseer
33	Little Billy, a celebrated Bull Dog	T. Landseer	T. Landseer
34	Black Cap, a Harrier’s head	G. H. Laporte	T. Landseer
35	Dead Red Deer	Edwin Landseer	J. R. Scott
36	Tiger Hunt	T. Landseer	T. Landseer
37	Tiger taking the Water	Sir C. D’Oyly, Bart.	T. Landseer
38	Elephants returning from the Hunt	Sir C. D’Oyly, Bart.	T. Landseer
39	Red Deer	R. Hills	T. Landseer

DESCRIPTION OF THE PLATES.

That there has hitherto existed no good book of Engravings of the nobler wild animals, to assist the progress of the student in that department of Art, is to be regretted. The talents of Mr. John Scott, brought into action by those of Gilpin, Cooper, and the Reinagles, have presented the public with excellent representations of the distinguished ornaments of the turf: the sports of the field, and the habits and manners of the canine race, were also duly honoured: but of the ferocious Tiger tribe, and the lordly Lion, we have nothing extant that would bear critical inspection, beyond a few detached prints:—nothing like a collection of figures, whose justness and accuracy of form, action, character, and expression, might be relied on.

Does any reader imagine that the various Etchings which have been performed—chiefly abroad—by Artists of no mean ability, may be considered as exceptions? They are not exceptions: or at best, the number which might be so regarded is but small, and those, for the most part, of dimensions not accommodated to the drawer of the cabinet, or the shelf of the library.

But they are not objectionable on this ground alone. Speaking of them in the aggregate, the heavier charge lies against them of being insufficient to those purposes of taste and information which are the ends of Art. Even those after Titian and after Rubens (the latter of whom has perhaps painted a greater number than any other of the old masters) are far more deficient in form, character, and expression, than is generally supposed, or than will be easily believed, by those who have not actually compared them with the Lions, Leopards, and Tigers of Nature. They have been taken too much on the credit which attaches to the great names of their authors.—Nor is this intended to impugn the merits, as historical or poetical painters, of those distinguished Artists, but simply as an assertion of truth. It is possible, that as a painter of allegory, Rubens might consider that strong infusion of human form, character, and expression, by which his Lions, for example, are distinguished, as necessary, or conducive, to his allegorical purposes; or, it is possible that his knowledge of this animal may not have been thoroughly well-grounded, and that he may have laboured under early prejudice of mind, or of vision, in this part of his education as a Painter, and may not have seen Lions as they really are. This is what the writer is most inclined to believe, (though not to insist); for even in treating the subject of Daniel in the den of Lions—the 2scene of which, by the way, he has not represented as a royal menagerie, but as a wild, rocky cavern—his animals partake of the artificial character of which we cannot bring ourselves to approve.

Of this fact, however, we purpose to exhibit proof with our assertion. Improved versions, to the best abilities of our Artists, of some of these Lions of Rubens and the Assyrian king, will here be introduced, which the reader, who pleases, may compare with the originals. Our second, third, and fourth Plates are of the number.

The Lions of Rubens are humanized. We do not intend to discuss at length whether the ideality of allegorical painting required this: we only state the fact: yet the opinions which we felt at liberty to form on the subject, we feel at liberty to utter. So much in apology for using the licence of asserting that the heads of many of the Lions of Rubens rather resemble those of frowning old gentlemen decorated with Ramillies wigs; as if Nature’s journeymen had made manes, and not made them well. There is a profusion of flowing and curling hair, which seems rather to solicit the unguents of the perfumer, than to have endured the torrid heats of the desert, or the rough storms of the forest. The shag of a Lion’s mane is a very different sort of thing.

However such dressed Lions may be thought to accord with Allegory, they are demonstrably at variance with Nature. To be sure, what might become a Lion in the procession of the Cardinal Virtues, might be rather unsuitable in his den, or within the precincts of those wild haunts, where he is accustomed to roam in his natural state. We have often read of the fabled Men-bulls, or (Minotaurs,) and we find such on the coinage of Crete. These allegorical creatures of Rubens, which, alas! have sometimes been quoted by Artists without half his genius, and placed in savage conflicts, or beside their Britannias—are a species of Men-lions. Placed among the Sabæan sculptures, they might pass for incarnations of Sol in Leo; but would very ill pass for Leo alone.

Among the observers of this poetic improvement, or this natural and unpoetical deficiency, on the part of Rubens, Titian, Julio Romano, and other painters, both ancient and modern; and of the consequent desideratum on the part of the public, of a cabinet or library collection of the nobler wild animals in a state of Nature, so as to answer the purposes of reference, while they conduced to the pleasures of Taste, were Mr. Edgar Spilsbury and Mr. Thomas Landseer. Whether or not the public “looked up to them for light” on that subject, (to use the language of Sterne,) they thought the Public “deserved it;” and they therefore, as the best practical means of eliciting that light, first copied the general forms and attitudes of most of the wild animals that appear in this book, from the old masters—generally speaking, from works that are well known—and then, went to Nature and corrected the details. They carried with them what, in those ancient masters, was meritorious in composition, attitude and chiaroscuro, and brought away, to the best of their ability—superadding it to, and blending it with, the above—accuracy of detail.

3Every artist does best, that which he is best qualified and best disposed to do. In completing the number of plates that has been found necessary for the Work, Mr. Edwin Landseer has chosen to proceed toward the same purpose, upon a different principle. He has gone, without any introductory medium, directly to the living animals, and has exhibited the savage manners and habits of these quadrupeds, according to his own ideas and observations.

On the distinction between Character and Expression, we shall now deliver our opinion. By the Character of an animal, we mean those permanencies of his look and features which he always offers to view when in a placid, or unimpassioned state: by his Expression, the variations of muscular action superinduced on character, to which he is liable, as the storms of passion sweep by, and his mind becomes agitated by external circumstances acting on the ardours of his instinct.

The former, seems to hold its court in the solid and massy parts: the latter, agitates, ofttimes rebelliously, the nerves and muscles. Character is ever present, both in the animal countenance, and in the “human face divine.” The most violent expression does not proscribe, or obliterate, character. Individuality consists of it, as far as concerns external appearance; and it forms the system of vowels of the language of Nature, without which no Expression could be.

Whoever regards the faces of a flock of Sheep, will see in them an infinite variety of Character, with very little Expression, and that little without diversity: and if we descend a step lower in the scale of being, and contemplate the finny tribe, where Character is not wanting, we find no Expression at all. Even Trees and inanimate objects, possess Character. We recollect a poetical friend of ours, now in Italy, saying that every tree and every rock had a face—but of this we are not so certain; though very certain, that there is enough of Character in rocks and trees, to make a poet think so.

Character and Expression, in the carnivorous class of animals, to which we here solicit attention, are always co-existent—their proportions varying with the existing occasions—in pictorial exhibitions of such subjects.

No. II.

There is much Character, and little Expression, in the reposing Leopard with his sheathed claws, which is shewn in the present engraving, copied by Mr. Spilsbury from Ridinger, and corrected from Nature. Ridinger was an artist of great power, who studied wild animals in their sequestered haunts, as is shewn in his grand forest back-grounds; and who, generally speaking, left little or no room for others to improve, except on some few of his inferior works. The present is an interesting and beautiful animal, yet there is a latent capability of mischief characterised in his countenance, and we might ask, in the language of Job, “Who shall dare to rouse him up?”

Two Couchant Lions, after Rubens, taken from his celebrated picture before alluded to, of the Prophet Daniel incarcerated in the den. The Lions are here supposed to be miraculously held in a state of tranquillity. Here, too, is not much Expression, but an extraordinary grandeur of Character, suited to the greatness of an occasion where the Deity himself especially interferes to seal up the voracious energies of the most terrible of his creatures, in calm submission. There is a character of royal dignity mingled with this submission, which is very impressive, and even sublime.

The writer esteems this to be a successful restoration of the Nature that was wanting in the prints of this subject, (which has often been engraved by Picart and others,) after Rubens. The original picture it has been our ill-fortune never to have seen. The shaggy manes, and the latent terror that sits gloomily enthroned in the open eyes of the superior Lion—suited to the darkness of the den, and the nature of this animal’s sense of vision,—are as well thought of, as they are executed; and are varied with much address from the closed eyes of the couching Lion beyond, of which also the character is most happily marked. A powerful and divine spell possesses them both.

No. IV.

The Tiger which marches in our procession, without an object before him to call forth emotion, possesses a calm character, combined with the resistless strength of that dreadful quadruped; whose very tranquillity, in his leisure sauntering, when no excitement is acting on his nerves, has an appalling effect.—His brow is clouded, though his claws are sheathed. There is a possibility of a dreadful storm which may not be far distant, and that is enough to stamp the Tiger’s character. None shall dare to arouse his energies, nor to encounter them when aroused.

No. V.

This group of playful Leopards, after Rubens, must be supposed to belong to the jocund train of Bacchus, since they are luxuriating at their ease, among grapes and vine branches. These Leopards are doubtless intended to have a degree of playful expression—induced perhaps by the exhilarating juice of the grape: and we should “guess” (as Jonathan says) that this group was studied from a litter of half-grown kittens. Few, however, except the sailors who were accustomed to gambol with the Tiger-cub on board the Pitt East-Indiaman, would like to venture to frolic with them.

In this GROUP by Mr. Edwin Landseer there is much of violent animal Expression, and Character fades before it, or rather, is absorbed in it. It tells a story of the past as well as the present, and is pregnant with a catastrophe not difficult to anticipate from the actions and expressions of the parties engaged. A Fawn has been seized by a Leopard, who has been despoiled of his prey by a more powerful Tiger. The Tiger in his turn becomes the victim of an enraged Lion.

The expression of the wounded Leopard is that of painful suffering mingled with dread. Together, they amount to agony. He shrieks while he submits. The Tiger is still enraged and resisting, though astounded with the power and suddenness of the Lion’s attack. He is losing his energy of resistance, and is beginning to feel that all resistance is vain. He roars with anguish; while his expression is that of terror, and indignation not yet subdued.

The Lion, who has just made his thundering spring, appears conscious of having fatally seized his adversary, and luxuriates fearlessly in his victory; and with a powerful and just expression of carnivorous enjoyment.—Meanwhile the characters of the animals, severally, are faithfully and specifically represented.

Although our main purpose be to exhibit rather a pictorial than a physiological view of the subject: having descanted on the word Character, we shall probably be expected to add, at least a word or two, on the leading characteristics of the carnivorous class of quadrupeds.

The generic characters of the Feline, or Cat, kind, are easily enumerated in the concise language of the naturalists. Their heads are round; their visages short: they have six cutting teeth, and two canine, in either jaw: their tongues are aculeated, the prickles inclining backward; their claws sharp, hooked, and retractile; their ears small and acuminated; they have five toes on each of the fore-feet, and four only on those behind.

Of this genera of Cats, we here exhibit the four principal species, Lions, Tigers, Leopards, and Panthers, of which the Lion is justly placed at the head—at least, the unanimous voice of ages has pronounced him to be the king of beasts, and we have enthroned him accordingly in our Title-page, (No. I.) They form a tribe that is especially and properly Carnivorous, being the only class of quadrupeds that are exclusively flesh-eaters. Their jaws are very completely armed for this purpose; their canine teeth being very long and angular, with the edges of the angles turned toward the inside of their mouths; so that when the animal has caused them to meet, or cross each other in the flesh of its prey, these formidable teeth will cut or tear a way through, by drawing them back without opening his mouth.

Their claws, and the formation of their feet, too, are eminently conducive to their predacious 6and carnivorous habits. They walk on their toes: yet not so much from that habitual stealthiness of pace, by which they advance unperceived till within a spring of their prey; as because it is also the means of that celerity of motion which is necessary to the very existence of animals that can feed only on flesh.

Their claws are exceedingly powerful; and they are enabled to draw them up into sheaths between their toes, so as to prevent their points from touching the ground; whence they are called retractile; and those claws are, in consequence, always kept sharp, unworn, and ready for active service.

The eyes of the Feline tribe—of every face in nature a striking and important feature—vary in the different species, and are capable of much alteration in the same animal; as instinctive impulse, or internal emotion, changes the expression of his countenance; and also from the degrees of light which act upon their pupils. Of Lions the pupils of the eyes are circular, and not of a yellow colour, as has been stated in the most diffuse modern dissertations on the Carnivora, but black. It is the iris of the Lion’s eye that is yellow. They appear to be best suited to nocturnal, or twilight, vision; and hence the Lion rarely hunts his prey while the sun is above the horizon—perhaps never, but when pressed by hunger in an extraordinary degree. The Tiger, on the contrary, will seek his prey by day as well as by night; and during twilight the colour of his eyes is that of a blue-green flame. If a stranger passes near a Tiger in a menagerie, the colour of the animal’s eyes will sometimes alter suddenly, from yellow-green to blue-green; not from any alteration in the degree of light acting upon them, but from mental excitement, and from a certain natural facility of expansion and contraction of the eye-pupils.

Hence a characteristic difference between the Lion and the Tiger. The habits of the latter are diurnal, and he disregards night-fires: the Lion, on the contrary, whose eyes are not calculated for the glare of day, cannot bear to encounter fire-light at night. Yet these physical conformations are sometimes overcome by the rage of hunger; and hence, in Mr. Edwin Landseer’s contending group, the Lion is represented as attacking the Tiger although it be day.

Mr. Bell treats learnedly, and we believe with much originality, of the facial-muscles of this class of quadrupeds, in his “Anatomy of Expression.”—We shall offer a few extracts, by which the reader will perceive how limited are their powers of expression of countenance, when compared with those of human nature, notwithstanding their superiority over all other quadrupeds.

“The violent passions mark themselves so distinctly on the countenances both of men and of animals, that we are apt in the first instance to consider the movements by which they are indicated, as certain signs or characters provided by Nature, for the express purpose of intimating the internal emotion; and to suppose that they are interpreted by the observer in consequence of a peculiar and instinctive faculty. This view of things, however, so natural at first sight, is not altogether satisfactory to philosophy; and a more jealous observation of the facts, seems to suggest 7an opposite theory, in which instinctive agency is rejected, and the appearances are explained from a consideration of the necessities and voluntary exertions of the animal. With regard to the observer, it has been asserted, that it is by experience alone that he distinguishes the signs of the passions; that we learn, while infants, to consider smiles as expressions of kindness, because they are accompanied by acts of beneficence and by endearments; and frowns as the contrary, because we find them followed by blows; that the expression of anger in a brute, is only that which has been observed to precede his biting; and that of fondness, his fawning and licking of the hand. With regard to the creature itself, it is said, what has been called the external signs of passion, are merely the concomitants of those voluntary movements, which the passions or habits suggest; that the glare of the Lion’s eye, for example, is the consequence of a voluntary exertion to see his prey more clearly—his grin, or snarl, the natural motion of uncasing his fangs before he uses them. This, however, is not quite true of all animals and of all expression of passion.”

“Attending merely to the evidence furnished by anatomical investigation, all that I shall venture to affirm is this: that a remarkable difference is to be found between the anatomy and range of expression, in man and in animals: that in the former there seems to be a systematic provision for that mode of communication and that natural language, which is to be read in the changes of the countenance: that there is no emotion in the mind of man which has not its appropriate signs; and that there are even muscles in the human face to which no other use can be assigned than to serve as the organs of this language: that, on the other hand, there is in the lower animals no range of expression which is not fairly referable as a mere accessary to the voluntary or needful actions of the animal; and that this accessary expression does not appear to be in any degree commensurate to the variety and extent of the animal’s passions.”

“There appears to me (continues Mr. Bell) to be no expression in the face of any animal lower in the scale of being than quadrupeds; and in them the strongest and most marked expression is that of rage; the object of which is opposition, resistance, and defence. But on examination it will be found (consistently with the position, that this is merely an accessary of the motions natural to the accomplishment of the object which the animal has in view) that the strength of the expression is in exact proportion to the strength of the principal action in the creature when thus excited.

“The gramnivorous animals, which seek their subsistence, not by preying upon others, nor by the ferocity, contest, and victory which supply the carnivorous with food, have in their features no strong expression of rage. Their expression is chiefly confined indeed to the effect produced on the general system. Thus the inflamed eye and the breathing nostrils of the Bull, are induced only by the general excitement. His only proper expression of rage, is in the position of the head, with the horns turned obliquely to the ground, ready to strike: and indeed it may be observed in general that animals which strike with the horns, shew little indication of fear or rage, except in 8the position of the head. In all gramnivorous animals, the skin of the head is closely attached to the skull, and capable only of very limited motion: the eye is almost uniformly mild, and the lips unmoved by passion.

“It is in carnivorous animals, with whose habits and manner of life, ferocity is instinctively connected, as the great means of their subsistence, that rage is distinguished by the most remarkable strength of expression. The eye-ball is terrible, and the retraction of the flesh of the lips indicates the most savage fury. But the first, is merely the exerted attention of the animal; and the other a preparatory exposure of the canine teeth. The great animals of prey—the Lion and the Tiger—are quite incapable of any other expression of feature, than this particular display of ferociousness. When they fawn upon their keeper, there is no motion in their features that indicates affection.”

In this assertion, that the countenances of the great animals of prey are incapable of any other than ferocious expression, we do not quite coincide with our learned physiologist. When they fawn upon their keeper, we think that indications of affection are exhibited; and find ourselves ready to ask what else than kindly expression is that “licking of the hand” which our author has before mentioned. If, however, we should grant that they may not be capable of affectionate expression toward their keeper, we can scarcely doubt that—toward their young—if we could observe them in their wild state, and in their moments of playful intercourse and enjoyment among each other—they are: at least, we think there are motions in their features that indicate affection, as well as fear, enquiry, surprise, gratitude, pleasurable wantonness, and some other sentiments, or emotions. This is our conviction: at the same time, we perceive that the range of their ferocious expression far exceeds the savage circle of their domestic charities. Are not even the least of these observable in the habits and manners of the domestic Cat, who belongs to the Tiger genera? But we have even seen a Tiger in his den, who looked good-natured enough to be stroked and patted: and of the Lion, of whom Mr. Griffith relates the following anecdote, what can be said or thought?

“Hearing some noise under his cage, the Lion passed his paw between the bars, and actually hauled up his keeper who was cleaning beneath; but as soon as he perceived that he had thus ill used his master, he instantly lay down upon his back in an attitude of complete submission.”

Or what can be said of the circumstance mentioned by Seneca (of which he was personally witness), of a Lion, to whom a man, who had formerly been his keeper, was exposed for destruction in the amphitheatre at Rome; and who was not only instantly recognised, but defended and protected by the grateful beast?—Or of the story related by Dr. Southey, of the Lion who had broken loose, submitting to the Cid, and allowing himself to be led back peaceably to his place of confinement?

9Could any painter of talent proceed to represent either of these facts, without finding in the countenance of the Lion, the muscles and the means of expressing a corresponding gentleness, or generosity, of feeling?

What could be said or thought of these things? Why it may be said, and will be thought, by all those who take both sides of the argument fairly into the question—that Mr. Bell has discovered and declared, that the muscles of affection, do not exist in the carnivora. Ergo, that the sentiment which we so translate or acknowledge—the appearances (that is) with which we may find ourselves affected—can only be expression of a negative kind; resulting from the relaxation of those muscles whose tension is necessary to the purposes, or the expression, of ferocity: that “the force of Nature can no further go;” and that the painter—the supposed painter, of such subjects, who is appealed to above—in order to be in any degree successful, must “make a third, by joining the former two”—that is to say, by mingling a portion of human nature with that of the animal: which brings us round to the practice and the probable theory of Rubens; of which it affords more justification, and of a higher kind, than superficial reasoners can be aware of.

But, when muscles of affection are mentioned, do we talk of a positive and acknowledged certainty; or only of a construction that has been put upon certain muscles of the face, by those who have an hypothesis to maintain, or who can trace affectionate expression in no other? And, are we thence to infer the exhaustion of the subject, and non-entity of the expression?

No. VII.

Mr. Spilsbury’s Lion, who has turned round his head to look at a Snake, affords a delineated example in point. Here is no more, we think, than the latent capability of ferocity: just so much as cannot be separated from the native character of this noble quadruped.—The eye-ball is here, not “terrible;” nor is “the most savage fury” indicated by the retraction of the lips, although the lower canine teeth are exposed. Here is a general sense of dignity; but the leading, present expression of the moment, (as it strikes us,) is that of curiosity, or excited attention; mingled with some degree of surprise that a contemptible little Snake should presume to roll his puny volumes in the royal presence. It would appear that the Lion has heard something hiss, and cares a little, to know what it may be.

Will it be further objected that this is Art?—To be sure it is. But we think that such Lion-looks are to be seen in Nature; and that such were seen, when the Dog which appealed to, and obtained, the royal pity, was first thrown into the Lion’s den at the Tower. We believe that this representation of the Lion and Snake is not taken from any old master, but is Mr. Spilsbury’s own design.

Neither is there any expression of ferocity, but of home comfort, in these two maneless Lions—or Lion and Lioness of Senegal. That which is asleep, however, rather illustrates our definition of Character, and is so far out of the question. The Lioness—who is awake, is a kind of Belle-Sauvage. Entirely without ferocity, she has some little expression of attention gently aroused by some slight cause—less important, we should think than the distant cry of a Chacal—a noise in the den, perhaps, not loud enough to make it worth while to wake her companion in order to see what’s the matter. But her expression of countenance, is almost as mild as that of a kitten in a chimney corner.—In fact, they seem—notwithstanding their Herculean strength—a kind of hearth-rug Lions.^[1]

After venturing to express this slight difference of opinion (if it amount to so much) with our distinguished anatomist of Expression, we return, with becoming respect, to his valuable Treatise: though as we do not propose to exhibit, like him, an anatomical and comparative view of the Carnivorous and Gramnivorous genera, we shall confine ourselves to a short extract or two, relating to the Carnivora alone—

“It is of man alone that we can with strict propriety say the countenance is an index of the mind, having expression corresponding with each emotion of the soul. Other animals have no expression but that which arises by mere accident, the concomitant of the emotions necessary to the accomplishment of the object of the passions.”—

“I have to remark, as relative to painting, (my original subject of enquiry) that this remarkable difference between the expression in man, and animals, naturally leads us to investigate what are the peculiarities of mere animal expression.

“In order to see distinctly what the peculiarities of mere animal expression are, it seems proper to reduce the muscles of expression in animals, to their proper classes. These muscles, as they appear in the several quadrupeds, may be distinguished into—1. Those which raise the lips from the teeth: 2. Those which surround the eye-lids: and 3. Those which move the nostrils.”

He next proceeds to state that “in the Carnivorous animal, the muscles of the lip are so directed as to raise the lip from the canine teeth;”—and these he distinguishes by the name of “Ringentes, or snarling muscles.”

11The snarling muscles take their origin from the margin of the orbit of the eye, and from the upper jaw, and are inserted into that part of the upper lip from which the whiskers grow, and which is opposite to the canine teeth; and although they are assisted in this office by other muscles, (the masticating and zygomatic muscles,) I have ventured to distinguish them particularly as the muscles of snarling. This action of snarling is quite peculiar to the ferocious and carnivorous animals.

“2. Muscles which surround the eye-lid. In man the upper eye-lid is raised by a muscle coming from the bottom of the orbit. But, besides this muscle, animals of prey in whom there is that peculiar and ferocious splendour of the eye, which we distinguish in the Tiger, for example, or the Lion—have three muscles infixed in the eye-lids, which drawing the eye-lids backward upon the peculiarly prominent eye-ball, produce the fixed straining of the eye, and by stretching the coats, give a greater brilliancy to the reflection. These muscles may be classed under the term Scintillantes.

“3. The muscles of the nostril are not less distinct and peculiar, in different classes of animals, than those of the eyes and lips. In the Carnivorous animals, the nose is comparatively insignificant, provision being made in the open mouth for any occasional increase of respiration above the uniform play of the lungs.”

Taking respectful, friendly, and reluctant leave of Mr. Bell, we trust that conformity will be found between these pictorial remarks and anatomical elucidations of his, and our engraved representations of the Carnivora.

No. IX.

The interior of a rocky den, where the Lion dares to intrude on the retired repose of a Royal Tiger, copied by Mr. Spilsbury from the Sketch-book of Stubbs. On the part of the Tiger, there is expressed a certain half frantic suspension of purpose. His look is fierce, though apprehensive, and as if his mind was not made up whether to become the assailant, or stand on the defensive. He is evidently taken by surprise; and if he does not fear, he is thoroughly conscious (as Dr. Johnson said, when he was to meet Lord Thurlow) that “there is something to encounter:” while the Lion, feeling also that he has met with his match, is arousing his terrible energies. The heroes are threatening: the storm has gathered: and is about to burst in fury.

With regard to the “ferocious splendour of their eyes,” and the exposure of their canine teeth by means of the Ringentes, the reader will find here a strict accordance with Mr. Bell’s theory.

The Tigress of Bengal, which has been designed, as well as etched, by Mr. Thomas Landseer, from that at the Exeter ’Change Menagerie, affords also a pertinent illustration of the principles which Mr. Bell had derived from combining study with dissection: theory with practice. The “three muscles infixed in the eye-lids, which, drawing the eye-lids backward upon the peculiarly prominent eye-ball, produce the fixed straining of the eye, and by stretching the coats, give a greater brilliancy to the reflection,” are here brought into action by a violent and unexpected outrage done to the maternal feelings. Here too is exemplified the origin, insertion, and physical use, of those snarling muscles, which are so properly named and defined by our learned anatomist. We cannot but wish, however, that he had written also of those of the lower jaw, which so powerfully conduce to this snarling and dreadful expression.

The mother has arrived at a fortunate conjuncture for her cubs, which lie sleeping below, in a small den or dark recess of the bank, whither a Serpent has stolen. Twisted among the jungle, which affords an advantageous post both of attack and defence for the Serpent—the Tigress has reason to dread an enemy so powerful and insidious; and, as in the preceding Engraving, both parties are prepared for the encounter, and fully aware of the importance of a first blow.

No. XI.

These rampant Lions, bear the name of Rubens as their author. Sir John Sebright, we believe, has the original picture. It would neither deteriorate from its intrinsic merit as a work of art, nor from its nominal value (we suspect), should it turn out to be from the pencil of Snyders; or a performance of Rubens and Snyders in conjunction. They not unfrequently painted on the same canvas; but the high reputation and rank of Rubens, has in some measure absorbed that of his coadjutor, except among first-rate connoisseurs—whereas, in all that relates to the details of Nature, Snyders was the superior painter of animals: and our reasons for thinking that he had at least a hand in this picture of the rampant Lions, are, 1st, The superior attention which is here paid to the details of Nature. 2ndly, That the action of the nearest of the two Lions, is precisely that of the same animal, in Snyders’ very capital picture from the fable of the Lion liberated by the Mouse, now in the Cabinet of Thomas Franklin, Esq. 3rdly, That the study in oil of a dead Lion, in the collection of G. Watson Taylor, Esq. also believed to be from the hand of Snyders, bears internal evidence of being painted, not only from Nature, but from the very same individual Lion, with the above. They are all portraits of the same animal. It appears as if Snyders, having obtained possession of a dead Lion, after making the study now belonging to Mr. Taylor, had put him in this rampant attitude, and painted from him as long as he lasted. But perhaps Rubens and Snyders did this in concert: for on the other hand may be recollected a masterly sketch in oil of the heads only of these rampant Lions, which was exhibited at the British Gallery two seasons ago, bearing the name of Rubens. If this name was written by Rubens himself, the probability is as above stated, that both artists painted at the same time from the same model. On this point we do but sum up such evidence as is before us, leaving the verdict to the reader.

13We believe that this subject also, has passed through the medium of an Etching by Bloteling, for it differs in some minor respects from the picture in the gallery of Sir John Sebright. It however affords further illustration of the theory of expression laid down by Mr. Bell, while it embodies the Scriptural idea of a “ramping and roaring Lion seeking whom he may devour.”

We have mentioned above, our having been disposed, on a certain occasion of visiting a public menagerie, to pat and stroke a Royal Tiger as he lay in his den with his nose toward the spectator, and whose looks, though certainly far from angelic, we could almost have called amiable: yet this is very far from being the character of the Tiger. To stroke, or pat, or touch them in any way, however, no person should ever venture, except their keepers; even the tame Tigers, that are sometimes brought up almost without animal food by the mendicant priests of Hindostan, are strictly prohibited from being touched—“under the utmost rigours of religious anathema,” says Col. Williamson, who relates a circumstance of his having visited a Faukeer who kept a Tiger of this kind in the wilds of Colgong.

The amiable-looking Tiger of whom we have spoken, lay something in the attitude and manner of the principal Panther, in the present picturesque group which Mr. Spilsbury copied from the Sketch-book of that admirable painter and anatomist of animals, Stubbs.

Perhaps this sentiment of ours, may be ascribed—in part at least—to the undulations of form, glossiness of surface, and brilliancy of colours, of these interesting creatures, reviving the early mental impressions which we remember to have received at the sight of shining and speckled shells, butterflies’ wings, and other objects of pure beauty; and in part to our having associated ideas of innocence and domesticated habits and comfort, with the “sympathetic mirth” (as Goldsmith’s phrase is) of sportive kittens.

It may not be unworthy of our best philosophy to pause here, and observe how Nature contrives to mingle, and seems to insist on mingling, sentiments and mental impressions, which analysing man is so fond of reducing to first elements—as he calls them. Surely there is, about these Carnivorous and terrible creatures, a saving grace—a beauty in their dreadfulness, which is exceedingly interesting, although it co-exist with cruelty: for if they are cruel, their cruelty is involuntary, and not implacable; and therefore, if not pardonable, not hateful—while the external beauty which they possess, is of a positive nature.

Reverting here to our own scholastic distinction, we think that Nature has, in the instance of this species of quadrupeds, mingled with similar success, energy of character, with a degree of mildness of expression. The natural character of the Panther is fearfully ferocious, yet a superinduced kindly expression may be seen in this group from the pencil of Stubbs—a sworn disciple of Nature—which may shew that in their home retiredness, they have not been left destitute of the means of letting each other see that they are sociable, friendly, and not entirely without the means of expressing the gentler emotions. Men are perhaps too exclusively disposed to look at the objects around them, as those objects immediately concern themselves: Mr. Stubbs, in composing this capital group, took a more extensive and genuine view of things; and notwithstanding the Panther is larger and more formidable than the Leopard (from which quadruped he is not always easily distinguishable), has depicted them as scarcely less mild and gentle than the domestic Cat.

The evidence of facts, however, when set in apposition, affords, in all probability, the most efficacious and convincing means of manifesting such principles as we are here submitting, while they exhibit the varieties of animal expression to the best advantage; and we therefore introduce another GROUP of Panthers, from the same Sketch-book, by Stubbs, more malignant in their aspects.

This is what one might call a domestic, or family, group; but they seem here to be meditating prey, and by no means so good-humoured as in the former instance, where they might be fancied to be quietly enjoying themselves after a sufficient repast. The two groups, when viewed together, seem very much to assist our perceptions of the capability of this animal of gentle, as well as of savage, expression.—They are contrasted, indeed, though without the direct opposition of violent brutal action, to calm repose: the eye being the chief seat of the difference. But neither the gentle, nor the more ferocious and malignant-looking, Panthers, or Tigers, will bear any comparison for commanding majesty of appearance with the regal Lion, whether in a calm or an excited state—as the vignette of our title-page is ready to bear witness.

There is good chiaroscuro in both of the above groups; and the scene of rocky wildness in which the latter are placed, as well as the rich colouring of the fur of the animals, are ably indicated.

The reader may perhaps not be displeased to attend here for a moment, to a short epitome of what the Naturalists have said concerning the distinctive marks of this interesting quadruped, the Panther: nor to be informed or reminded of the strong resemblance which he bears to the Leopard.

Dr. Shaw observes that Linnæus himself has confounded the Panther with the Leopard; but adds, that “a true distinctive mark between them, is by no means easy to communicate either by description or even by figure.” He thinks that the Leopard is the smaller of the two species of animals, and its colour a paler yellow: and Mr. Griffith, in his “Carnivora,” says, “A very fine animal is now exhibiting at Exeter ’Change under the name of Leopard, which is much larger as well as brighter than any other Leopard in that Menagerie, and should, therefore, according to Shaw, seem to be the Panther. But I am informed that the animal in question was taken in India, and that all those which come from Asia, are much brighter in colour than those from Africa, which is confirmed by inspection of the African specimens there; and that the females have more white about them than the other sex: and Mr. Cross, who has had opportunities of inspecting probably some hundreds of specimens, insists that he has never observed any specific difference between those brought from Asia and Africa, among themselves, except that the Asiatic are generally larger and brighter.”

Lichtenstein, in a note communicated to Major Smith, describes the Panther as resembling the Jaguar, in having the same number of rows of spots, but different in having no full spots, on the dorsal line. If this be correct, then is the existence of the Panther established as being distinct from the Leopard: but I do not find that full spots on the dorsal line always make a specific difference of the Jaguar. When, therefore, it is said, that the Panther much 16resembles the Jaguar, it is always strongly to be suspected that the type whence the observations are taken is an American animal. If the contrary be clearly established, and the animal be found to have large round or oval open marks of black, with a central spot on the sides and back, and a tail longer than from its insertion to the ground, it may be concluded that it is the real Panther.

Lastly, that indefatigable investigator, Cuvier, says he was long in doubt whether the Panther and Leopard were distinct: but a comparison of a great number of skins, as well as observations on the numerous animals sent to the French Museum, have satisfied him that they are different; and he accordingly describes the Panther as having six or seven rows of rose-like spots in transverse lines, the tail longer and the head larger than the Jaguar, and the ground-colour of the fur paler. The Leopard he describes as a little less than the Panther, though with the same proportions; but the spots, as much more numerous, forming ten transverse lines.

The opinion of Cuvier is certainly deserving of the greatest attention; but it may be observed that his enumeration of the six or seven rows of spots in the Panther, and of ten in the Leopard, is not so certainly intelligible as might be desired, when it is considered that the spots or marks in question have really little or no parallelism. Notwithstanding, therefore, this respectable authority, it seems very probable that the Panther and Leopard are one and the same species, which branches into two varieties, the Asiatic and the African; the former of which is brighter in colour, and probably something larger than the latter; and that the females of both are paler and less than the other sex. Cicero, in his letters to Atticus, speaks of the Panther of Africa, and the Asiatic Panther; as if they were different.

The ancient naturalists were not a whit more successful in distinguishing these two quadrupeds, than the moderns, notwithstanding the opportunities which they possessed of inspecting so many. Mr. Griffith comments on Shaw, Lichtenstein, and Cuvier; so did Cicero and Pliny, on Aristotle. Hence their Panthera, Pardus, and the Leopardus of the later ages of Rome (the last of which plainly indicates their supposition that a Lion or Lioness had been concerned in the generation of this spotted animal.)

It is surprising to reflect on the great number of Panthers, which in those later ages of Rome, were brought from the deserts of Africa for their public shows. Scaurus exhibited an hundred and fifty of them at one time; Pompey, four hundred and ten; and Augustus, four hundred and twenty! They probably thinned the province of Mauritania almost to extirpation; which may account for the superior abundance of these quadrupeds, as well as of Lions, at present, in Guinea, and the more southern parts of Africa.

It would appear, that after all that has been accomplished by the spot and row-counting philosophers, the distinction between Panthers and Leopards is by no means made out; and we take it, that whenever Nature means to mark a distinction of this sort, she always does it with a firmer hand, and more decisive line.

Stubbs, who had most likely paid sufficient attention to what the naturalists had previously said on the subject—and whom no naturalist has exceeded in accuracy of observation—appears to have here sketched out the differences, and the resemblances, between these two animals—if two they may be termed. It will be observed that the one which we esteem to be the Leopard—the nearer figure of the two—is somewhat smaller than the other, and that the dark spots on her body are not clustered in roselets, or oilettes, as they have sometimes been called; while on the body of the Panther, they are, and indeed everywhere, excepting on his head and fore-legs. In short, Stubbs’s delineation agrees best with the definition of Cuvier, whose discernment and philosophical tact are by no means inferior to that indefatigability for which he is praised by Griffith.

Of this Leopard and Panther, the actions and expression (although not the character—their noses and mouths being of longer and larger proportions) are very much those of the common domestic Cat, when in a playful mood. Something there is of burlesque clumsiness in their play—resembling Hercules with the distaff; and something of that assumed look which may be observed among Cats while frolicking with their young. And these kindly and droll expressions of countenance—these “quips and cranks, and wanton wiles,”—are doubtless very well understood among the carnivorous comedians, notwithstanding that to some of ourselves, they may not appear to amount to much: yet the difference of these our engraved heads of a playful Leopard and Panther, and the ocular expressions of such animals when raging with hunger, or rendered angry by opposition, is immense, and could not fail, if presented together, to be strikingly obvious to those who are in the least studious of the physiognomical variations of the ferocious tribe. Let the reader compare them with the threatening Lion and defying Tiger among the rocks, after the same master, which we have numbered 19.

Horse-play is proverbially unwelcome: Panther-play must be worse. We cannot associate the idea of the endurance of it within reach of man. But where Cats and Kittens are occasionally permitted in the parlour, there is comparative harmlessness. And who has not witnessed with delight, among the rat-catching carnivora in their joyous moments, those spontaneous and electrical kindlings of various and rapid fun, which must have made Heraclitus laugh, could he have seen them, and have been a lesson to Lavater.

A Lion and Lioness, after Rubens, where we esteem the execution—more especially of the parts which are brought into muscular action, and the rich hairy texture of the fur—to be highly creditable to the artists concerned. In these respects, it transcends beyond all comparison the Etching by Picart of the same subject. We were about to say more of these things, and to request attention more particularly to the hinder parts of the female, but the knit brow and threatening eye of the Lion glares upon us with its high claims, and terrible truth, and we cannot but perceive a broad, pervading, and dextrous display of light, shade, and expression of texture.—Now, where there is just harmony of parts, it is the whole which merits praise; and this praise is of a higher kind than could possibly be bestowed with propriety on any part.

The Expression of the Lion is not here so self-possessed and majestic as in some of the examples which we have passed. His magnanimity is exchanged for that dark treachery and cruel-mindedness, which some modern authors ascribe to him. Nor is the Lioness more amiable: both seem lurking, malicious, and as if animated by some horrid hope.

Rubens seems to have let them into his Assyrian den, in order to let the world see from how dreadful animals Providence was protecting its favoured minister.

No. XVI.

Rubens has here painted one Lion as scowling, another as if in a sort of mysterious meditation, and a third yawning with ennui—no doubt to diversify a composition wherein he was of necessity obliged to introduce a considerable number of animals of the same kind.

The Lion has been, of all quadrupeds whatever, the most idealised by the Arts, and the most variously represented. The tide of opinion ran for centuries in his favour. Kings took their designations from him: amongst whom have been our first Richard; but of late years very reputable travellers and other authors have appeared, who would bring down the poetic generosity, the reputation of which the Lion has so long enjoyed, to the plain prose craft and cruelty of the rest of the feline race.

The noble disdain with which a Lioness, though half famished, and “with udders all drawn dry,”—scorned to prey on a sleeping man—Must we part with the sentiment? Must we also disbelieve the story which has been commemorated by a large French engraving, of a Lion gently taking up in his mouth a fallen infant, and as gently setting it down again, to the infinite delight of its terrified mother?—Such anecdotes have pleased and flattered us; but may possibly have gained undeserved credit because they pleased, and have pleased because they flattered—human nature.

Repeated instances of Friendships between the Lion and the Dog, have occurred at the Menagerie at the Tower, as well as elsewhere in England: and we have pleasure in adding a corroborating fact of a novel character. Mr. Edwin Landseer made it the subject of a Drawing from Nature, and we here present the public with an Engraving after it, executed by his brother, and numbered in our collection, 16.

A female whelp was accidentally found, quite young, and even before its eye-lids were unclosed, in an African forest not far from the sea shore. It was brought on board ship by some sailors, where a smallish black bitch, by birth quite an ignoble cur, having recently pupped, the experiment was successfully made, of ascertaining whether she would suckle the young Lioness, who was christened Charlotte.—Charlotte soon began to thrive, and to play kitten frolics; and continued to be thus nurtured, till, at no great length of time, she became so much larger than her foster-parent, and required so much food, as to induce the necessity of weaning her.

But the two quadrupeds continued, ever after, to live together on the most friendly and affectionate terms; constantly inhabiting the same cage, and habitually partaking of the same messes of provision. The Lioness, though now grown large, having never seen any other mother, continued through life to shew marks of daughterly obedience, and the bitch, of maternal regard. Mr. Edwin Landseer, as well as many others, has frequently seen them caressing each other in their cage at the Exeter ’Change Menagerie, in the manner which he has represented: the Drawing, which exhibits portraits both of the Lioness and Bitch, having been done some years ago.

And these kitten frolics, or the youthful disposition to indulge in them, continued on the part of the Lioness, till her older and graver nurse became tired of the lion-play, and would sometimes snarl and bark forbiddingly. It was very entertaining, and an interesting chapter in Natural History, to behold this; for the Bitch ever retained an ascendancy, and much of the authority, of a parent: so that her foster-daughter, though so much larger, and so tremendously powerful, would retire 20obediently to the farther corner of the cage, waiting a favourable change of temper, on the part of her senior, before she renewed her playful familiarities.

On a principle of prudence, however, and because it was judged that if these inmates of the same refectory, ever quarrelled, it would be at a meal-time, they were of late separately fed: that is to say, not at separate times, or tables, but, at opposite corners of the apartment: but the Bitch has often been known to help herself out of Charlotte’s portion, without fear or ceremony, and her majesty to shew no resentment, nor any kind of royal displeasure or hurt feeling, at the indecorum.

We esteem this Engraving to afford a fair example of the positive, or negative, power of the sovereign of the forest, of physiognomically expressing the gentler emotions. But it occurs to us here—and we mention it in reference to an argument maintained in an earlier part of this dissertation—that perhaps licking with the tongue may belong to the dumb language of quadrupedal expression of affection. But the Dog, and the Cat, kind, express themselves in this way; and amongst each other, it cannot be misunderstood—the affectionate idea being impressed at the period of their very earliest susceptibilities, and associated—perhaps as indissolubly as the human endearments of smiles and kissing—with their youngest, purest, and most permanent recollections.

No. XVIII.

In this plate the ideas of expeditious motion, and quest, are admirably depicted:—kept up from stem to stern; he is evidently bent on destruction.—This is he that appeared to the terrified imagination of Collins’s Oriental camel-driver, who, in his beautiful Eclogue, exclaims—

And the determined purpose which pervades the whole frame and the mind of the sallying hero, is seen in his resolute look, as well as in every motion of his muscular limbs—aye, to the very tuft at the extremity of his tail. All is expressive of his plenitude of animation, and prey is obviously his purpose. None can mistake him.

This will probably be thought another of the instances in which the present artists have been eminently successful in the execution of their subject. (For the design they were indebted to the etching-needle of Ridinger.) The shag of the mane is characteristically varied from the short hair which covers the face, body, and limbs; the anatomy is ably indicated; and the chiaroscuro is vigorous.

21The hunters say that a dozen or fifteen dogs, trained to the sport, will overpower a Lion before he can strike many blows: but these are the limbs which “at every blow destroy an enemy.”

We have next to treat of the Royal Tiger of Bengal, beautiful, powerful, fierce, and unrelenting.—Terrible, yet admirable!

Mr. Bewick says that the Tiger “is the most rapacious and destructive of all carnivorous animals. Fierce without provocation, and cruel without necessity, its thirst for blood is insatiable. Though glutted with slaughter, it continues its carnage; it fears neither the sight nor the opposition of man, whom it frequently makes its prey; and it is even said to prefer human flesh to that of any other animal:” a fact which is confirmed by Colonel Williamson, and Mr. Paul of Daudpore, the latter of whom has the reputation of having killed as many Tigers as any hundred other men in India.

The strength of this animal is so great, that when it has killed a Deer, it carries it off with much ease. Wood relates a story, on good authority, of a Buffalo being carried off by one; but it had previously refreshed itself by sucking the Buffalo’s blood. The latter had been hampered, and was weakened by its struggles in a quagmire; and the Tiger let fall its prey, and fled at the approach of some Indian peasants. We must suppose, too, this Tiger to have been one of the largest, and of extraordinary power, for Colonel Williamson reports that in the public combats that are sometimes exhibited in India, between Tigers and Buffaloes, the latter is commonly the victor.

But the eagerness of its voracity is believed to transcend that of any other creature whatever. If undisturbed at the commencement of its meal, it plunges its head into the body of its reeking victim, up to the very eyes, in order to glut itself with the bloody enjoyment. Oysters are not opened and swallowed with more zest and avidity.

The commencement of such a Carnivorous Feast, where the Tiger has seized and slain—not a wild Buffalo, but a Bullock, from the tame herds of Hindostan. As the cattle descend toward the river to drink, their crafty enemy lies in ambush among the jungle, or creeps along cautiously and unseen; and, watching a favourable opportunity, makes his murderous spring.

Although Williamson corroborates Mr. Bewick’s account of the Tiger’s fondness of human flesh, he does not agree to that of its fearlessness. On the contrary, he thinks that on occasions where Tigers have seemed fearless, momentary anguish or resentment, has been their real stimulus; and adds, that “the Tiger is, of all beasts of prey, the most cowardly; its treacherous disposition induces it, almost without exception, to conceal itself until its prey may arrive within reach of its spring, be its victim either bulky or diminutive. Size seems to occasion no deviation in the Tiger’s system of attack, which is founded on the art of surprising. We find, accordingly, that such as happen to keep the opposite side of a road, by which they are somewhat beyond the first spring, often escape injury; the Tiger being unwilling to be seen before he is felt. Hence it is rarely that a Tiger pursues; but, if the situation permit, his cunning will not fail to effect his purpose, he will steal along the road-side among the bushes parallel with the traveller’s course, until one of the many chances which present themselves of finding him within reach, induces to the attack. Often, where the country is rather too open to allow his proceeding in this manner, the Tiger will take a sweep among underwood or through ravines, in order to meet the traveller again at a spot whence he may make his spring.

“Tigers are extremely partial to such sites as command a road, selecting one rather less frequented, in preference to one that is much in use. In the former, they are certain of finding as much as will answer their daily wants. If, however, the haunt be on a public road, it is usually at some spot abounding with grass or bushes, especially the prauss, and in the vicinity of some ample cover supplied with water, to which the prey can be dragged. There, in some low, opake spot, the sanguinary meal is consummated in gloomy silence.

“It should be observed, that for the most part the Tiger chooses his station on that side of the road which is opposite to his haunt; so that, when he seizes his prey, he proceeds straight forward, without having occasion to turn, and thus drags it across mostly at a trot. If he misses his aim, he will rarely return, unless attacked; but, in a sullen manner, either skulks through the cover; or, if the country be not sufficiently close to conceal his motions, he moves on at a canter.”

23Finding the same anecdotes of Lions and Tigers repeated from book to book, the present writer has in general avoided to reiterate what he conceived would in most instances prove to have been already read: but he cannot wholly pass that in which a lady—next to the Royal Tiger himself—was the principal figure; more especially as it illustrates a fact of natural history not useless for Oriental travellers to be acquainted with—namely, the susceptibility of the Tiger of sudden alarm.

Some ladies and gentlemen being on a party of pleasure, under a shade of trees on the banks of a river in Bengal, were suddenly surprised at seeing a Tiger ready to make its fatal spring. One of the ladies, with amazing presence of mind, laid hold of an umbrella, and unfurling it directly in the animal’s face, it instantly retired.

The following also confirms Williamson’s account of the Tigers which are brought up tame by some of the mendicant Indian priests who inhabit the banks of the Ganges.

A beautiful young male Tiger was brought from China, some twenty years ago in the Pitt East Indiaman: at the age of ten months it was so far domesticated, as to admit every kind of familiarity from the people on board. It seemed to be quite harmless, and was as playful as a kitten. It frequently slept with the sailors in their hammocks, and would suffer two or three of them to repose their heads upon its back, as upon a pillow, whilst it lay stretched out upon the deck. In return for this, it would, however, now and then steal their meat. Having one day taken a piece of beef from the carpenter, he followed the animal, took the meat out of its mouth, and beat it severely for the theft; which punishment it suffered with all the patience of a dog. It would frequently run out on the bowsprit; climb about the ship like a cat; and perform a number of tricks with an agility that was truly astonishing. There was a Dog on board the ship, with which it would often play in the most diverting manner. But it ought to be remembered at the time this Tiger was taken on board the ship, it was only a month or six weeks old; and when arrived in this country, it had not quite completed a year.

No. XX.

Three small Lions, on a single Plate; forming a sort of tail-piece, and bringing up the rear of our carnivorous procession.

This plate exhibits three different VARIETIES. The Lion of Senegal, nearly in profile, reclined, but under the influence of some slight degree of irritation; the black-maned Lion of Africa; and the common Lioness of Asia, regaling herself on a dead bird.

24The upper and lower subjects, are after Ridinger. The African Lion, in the middle, is originally from Rembrandt, but has passed through the medium of an indifferent Etching by Picart; and, like the rest, has finally been corrected by a reference to Nature.—We believe it was corrected from the specimen that was some few years ago presented to Lady Castlereagh; which was exhibited at Exeter ’Change, and of which Mr. Edwin Landseer and Mr. Thomas Christmas had the post-obit reversion.

PLATE XXI.
Neptune, Painted by E. Landseer, Engraved by T. Landseer.

A beautiful and highly characteristic engraving of a favourite Newfoundland Dog. It is engraved by Mr. Thomas Landseer from a drawing by his brother Edwin, and highly admired as a faithful likeness of the original.

PLATE XXII.
Brutus, Painted by E. Landseer, Engraved by T. Landseer.

The property of Edwin Landseer, Esq. Good judges may at once perceive in this portrait the points that constitute a thorough good one of the breed. Rough, wiry and strong, with eyes almost concealed, Brutus is yet active, vigilant and courageous, possessing in great perfection the qualities most desirable in the terrier.

PLATE XXIII.
A cross of the Dog and Fox, Painted by E. Landseer, Engraved by T. Landseer.

The subject of this fine engraving had occasioned much doubt in the minds of naturalists, but the question as to its reality was decided, by the fact of the animal whose portrait we give, having been produced from a tan terrier bitch and a tame dog fox.

PLATE XXIV.
Dogs setting a Hare, Painted by E. Landseer, Engraved by T. Landseer.

Two dogs having caught the side wind of a hare are making a highly characteristic point. Nothing can more forcibly express that mute animation which gives so highly-toned a finish to the abilities of the setting dog as this vigorous and faithful delineation of their countenances. The Pointer is placed in a very interesting attitude admirably contrasted with the well chosen position of the setter his companion; while the hare, the object of their attraction, is not only judiciously placed, but the representation is strikingly true to nature. This representation of dogs setting a hare displays not only a correct knowledge of the subject but is one of those faithful delineations that cannot fail to merit the most unqualified approbation.

A thorough-bred Scottish terrier, a favourite portrait by Mr. Edwin Landseer who has repeated her in several of his pictures.

PLATE XXVI.
Fox Hounds of the Hatfield Hunt, Painted by E. Landseer, Engraved by T. Landseer.

This sketch contains portraits of five of the principal fox hounds belonging to the above Hunt.

PLATE XXVII.
Proctor, Painted by E. Landseer, Engraved by T. Landseer.

Study of a head of a Blood-hound. This engraving is of a very celebrated dog, and the character of its peculiar species is well delineated.

PLATE XXVIII.
Bob, a favourite Terrier, Painted by E. Landseer, Engraved by T. Landseer.

This engraving represents a fine wire-haired specimen of his race, engaged in his favourite pursuit in his native wilds.

PLATE XXIX.
The Poacher, Painted by E. Landseer, Engraved by T. Landseer.

Is not one of those who

to pop pheasants from their perches with an air gun, or who sets “springes to catch woodcocks,” but it is he who

“The wily Fox,” and a very beautiful animal Mr. Landseer has made of him. The description we have quoted, finds in the picture an apt illustration.

The drawing from which the present plate was engraved, was made from a very noble Alpine mastiff, which at that time although not full grown, was the largest dog in England.

PLATE XXXI.
Old Dog, looks like a picture, Painted by E. Landseer, Engraved by J. Webb.

An expressive picture, which betokens the subject, old in honour and years, and still following his favourite pursuit.

PLATE XXXII.
Fight between Jacko and Puss, Sketched and Etched by T. Landseer.

The animals here so cleverly represented, and at the spot of their actual and sanguinary contest, were etched by T. Landseer, from a sketch made at the time by himself.

PLATE XXXIII.
Little Billy, drawn and engraved by T. Landseer.

The spirited and faithful style in which Mr. Landseer has executed this embellishment, presents us a portrait of a species of animal which was a great favourite with our ancestors, and was as ferocious to an enemy as faithful to a friend.

PLATE XXXIV.
Black Cap, Painted by G. H. Laporte, Engraved by T. Landseer.

Is a clever specimen of a perfect Harrier’s head, ably treated.

PLATE XXXV.
Dead Red Deer, Painted by E. Landseer, Engraved by J. R. Scott.

Gives us the spoils of the chase lifeless and rigid; the accessories to the picture are well told.

Tigers are hunted in India by Elephants assisted by fleet horses. We have in this clever picture a Tiger couching amongst the jungle seemingly undetermined whether to spring or to make off, the horse scared and frightened evidently has come upon him unexpectedly; an Elephant at a little distance is hastening towards the spot.

PLATE XXXVII.
Tiger taking the water, Painted by Sir Charles D’Oyly, Engraved by T. Landseer.

The Tiger having been driven from the jungle and hunted over the plain, as a last resort takes to the water. He is here represented just after having entered, his powerful paws half above the water preparing to make a stroke, whilst his tail stiff and outstretched serves the purpose of a rudder. The hunters on their elephants from the bank of the river are taking a deliberate aim at him.

PLATE XXXVIII.
Elephants returning from the Hunt, Painted by Sir Charles D’Oyly, Engraved by T. Landseer.

The Hunter seemingly tired of hunting on horseback has dismounted, and is climbing up the side of an elephant who kneels, whilst the fruit of the chase is upon the back of another, and a third is making his way through the jungle.

PLATE XXXIX.
Red Deer, Painted by R. Hills, Engraved by T. Landseer.

A very clever work of Art upon which the great and universally acknowledged taste and talents of Mr. Thomas Landseer have been carefully bestowed. Both Painter and Engraver have done justice to the subject; few things can be finer than the stag in the foreground, or more effective than the brace of Does approaching upwards, as it were, from a romantic and obscure retirement.