THE MASTIFF FROM ELIZABETH S REIGN. 125 



At Ditchley, near Charlbury, Oxfordshire, the seat of 

 Viscount Dillon, there is a painting by Johnson of Sir Henry 

 Lee, and a mastiff that saved his life. This painting was 

 made previous to 1600, and during Elizabeth's reign. The 

 story is one of the many pleasing anecdotes of the fidelity, 

 sagacity, and courage of the mastiff, being briefly this: While 

 Sir Henry Lee was travelling on the Continent, one night his 

 mastiff persisted in coming into his bedroom; the dog had 

 never done so before, and was twice turned out, but finding 

 his way in the third time, he crept under the bed, and his 

 owner to indulge the animal allowed him fortunately to remain. 

 In the middle of the night Sir Henry was awoke by a low 

 growl from the dog, and he perceived the door of his room 

 to be opening cautiously, and a figure stole in with a naked 

 dagger in hand, and was coming towards the bed, when the 

 mastiff sprang out from underneath, and laid the would be 

 assassin low. It proved to be Sir Henry's own valet, who 

 confessed he had come into the room with the intention of 

 murdering and robbing his master, and it was due to the dog 

 alone that the crime was frustrated. 



This true incident formed the theme for the pretty tale of 

 St. Sebastian, a work of fiction by Miss Porter, if I recoiled: 

 rightly. The incident itself w^ould seem almost providential 

 interference to frustrate the murderer, at the same time many 

 such acts of providence that appear almost miraculous, are 

 brought about by natural means. It w r ould be hard to 

 determine how far the circumstance of the dog seeking Sir 

 Henry's company that night was due to what is termed mere 

 chance, or to some instinctive feeling. In animals instinct 

 assumes the place of reason, (or perhaps more correctly, 

 reason in man assumes the place of instinct, which is less 



