2 The Poets Beasts. 



its claim to majesty, and asks proof of its " supposed mag- 

 nanimity and generosity beyond the blandness of its Harold 

 Skimpole countenance, and the disdainful manner in which 

 it throws back its mane as if it were quite incapable of the 

 pettiness (of which it is, nevertheless, frequently guilty) of 

 picking up and eating a humble black-beetle." But though 

 it is quite true that it is sometimes excelled in size and 

 generally in ferocity by the tiger, in elegance of form by 

 the leopard and jaguar, and in beauty of colouring by most 

 of the great cats, "yet it would" (as Professor Kitchen 

 Parker says) " be useless, even if it were advisable, to try 

 to depose the lion from the throne it has, by the universal 

 consent of mankind, so long occupied." It would be use- 

 less, because the magnificent presence and kingly voice of 

 the lion would always suffice to rethrone it as often as it 

 was deposed. And it wou'd be unadvisable, as no other 

 beast could be crowned in its stead. The ermine would 

 hardly become the unwieldy elephant with its petty anti- 

 pathies to pigs and porcupines and mosquitoes, its secluded 

 herbivorous habits ; and there is too much blood on the 

 tiger's claws for a sceptre. The violent rhinoceros, with its 

 vicious little eyes, might fprce its way to temporary dictator- 

 ship during a popular revolution, or the tusky wild boar 

 by pertinacity of courage enforce a general respect. But 

 neither of them could be presented with sufficient dignity 

 to the people as the Anointed and Elect. So, failing a suc- 

 cessor worthy to fill its place, the lion must remain king. 



Its glorious head and full intelligent eye, the terrible 

 comi)osure of its bearing, the impressive ease of its step, 

 the awe-compelling voice — " the rocks tremble while he 

 seeks his prey " — are all kingly. But in many of its habits 

 it declines from this high standard. It is not really coura- 

 geous. Thus, the ancients gave their statues of Fear the 

 heads of lions. It avoids conllict with formidable antago- 

 nists, and dreads man and all his works. It haunts well- 



