observations, though I should be apt to believe it true for inactivity and confinement will, in time, destroy the brightest endowments both of body and mind; a truth I have too frequently seen verified. But in respect to these animals, I have read an account of King James the First and Lord Lenox, with several other noblemen, going to the Tower and causing a male and female lion to be taken from their dens, and a live cock to be thrown to them, which they presently

killed. The King then ordered a lamb

to be turned to them; but this they did not touch, although it walked up close to them. The king then ordered these lions away, and another to be put in their place, to which he caused two mastiffs to be turned in. The dogs presently flew on the lion, and threw him on his back; who though undoubtedly superior to them in strength, was decidedly, in this case, inferior to them in courage. In this reign there were more experiments tried of the same kind; but stories

of wanton cruelty can neither be pleasant you to hear nor me to relate."

for

"But, papa," said Mary, "it was generous of the lions not to hurt the lamb; but I have heard that they only attack such as are capable of defence."

"I much doubt the truth of that," replied her father; "here they are regularly fed, and use no exercise; they have therefore not those motives to excite them to attack as in forests, where they roam about rendered doubly ferocious by hunger, and in which case I cannot suppose they would spare any beast that fell in their way nay, so sensible are the weaker animals of their danger, that, in their native woods, all flee at the roaring of the lion."

The keeper, who had been observant to Mr. Richardson's discourse, said, "I will tell the young gentleman and lady a circumstance that happened here some years ago, if you will give me leave, Sir." Mr. Richardson answering, that he should be

D

obliged to him, the Keeper gave them the following relation :

"In one of these dens we have an old lion called Dunco; he was remarkable for his tameness and attachnient to the man who fed him, but very ferocious to strangers. The wood-work of his den being impaired, he could not be kept with safety; a carpenter was therefore employed to repair it; but the man refused to engage in the business till the keeper stepped into the den, and agreed to keep Dunco at the upper part of his house, while the carpenter was at work beneath. The keeper, after playing some time with the lion, fell asleep, and the carpenter continued his work without knowing to what danger he was exposed. At length having completed his job, he called to the keeper to come down and fasten the door, but receiving no answer, he cautiously peeped through the grate, and to his infinite surprise saw the keeper and the lion stretched upon the floor, and sleeping

together. The carpenter called the man by his name, but he was too sound asleep to answer; the lion, however, reared up his great head, looked at the carpenter, and throwing his great paw over the keeper's breast, again composed himself to sleep. The carpenter terrified, ran into the house, when some of the people came out, and having first secured the door, which, in his fright, the carpenter had neglected, they roused the man, who expressed no terror at his situation, but shook the lion by the paw before they separated; a compliment that Dunco returned by rubbing his nose against him, and attending him to the door of the den."

Mr. Richardson having requited the man, desired to be shown the chapel; where seating himself, he said, "This chapel is not only the repository of many good people, who died in their quiet beds, and whose monuments you see around you; but also the undistinguished receptacle of several who were beheaded

within the fortress, or on the adjacent hill. Here was finally removed the body of the conscientious Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, who fell a victim to his opinion of the Pope's supremacy, and the treachery of the Attorney-general, Rich, who obtained his confidence and betrayed him. The Pope rewarded his orthodoxy with a cardinal's hat; but it did not arrive until the poor bishop's head was on a pole on London bridge. His headless corpse was moved to be near that of his friend the great Sir Thomas More, who suffered three weeks after in the same cause. But his body did not long continue here, nor his head on the bridge; for his daughter, Margaret Roper, by unwearied assiduity, procured the one to be removed to Chelsea, and the head, accidentally blown into the Thames, to be given to her. She kept it during her life, as a relic, and directed that after death, it should be lodged in her arms and buried with her. >

"Here rests, after her short dream of