Year: 1860

THE DEATH BED CT LicN.-We give place
to this simple, but extremely graphic des-
cription of grand scene. If we knew who
the author was, we would give his name
with pleasure, for well does he deserve a
high ealogium for his touch ing and eloquent
death scene:


"Every one may not be scientific; but ev-
cry one may be close observer of nature
animate, and nature inanimate. If plain
people, with good eyes and open hearts,
would but keep note book for their origin
al observations, and jot down in few words,
the simple facts of life among Gods lower
creatures, the great men of the day would
always have a good store of fine materials
to deal with. The philosopher would stand
at ease on the grand platform of truth, and
build with stones readily hewn to his hand,
instead of having to send his thoughts wide
over the land in search of straw whese~ith
to make brick for the house of his wisdom,
or perhaps to gather offers for the waadled
wigwam of a nomadic theory.


s.Do animals understand what death isl
Eo they recognise its coming signs?' asks
the uninitiated. "No," says gifted phlos-
opher of our acquaintance, 'you never see
animals cumprehending the meaning of
DEATH" Very well, then here is fact:


The writer once strayed into menagerie
in the north of England, which had camped
for day or two in little mountain metro
polls. A large elderly lion was making an
involuntary tour of the country in company
with his wife and fine family of young
people. What an insult to put the desert
monarch into such vulgar clap-trap travel
ing carriage rs this!


n,,t hot bo hat 4
old lion? He is in pain; surely he is in pain
His breathing is short and is drawn with eff
fort; his nostrils are spread wide, lips drawn
back, and that great, shaggy chest heaves
nneasily. He is suffering from bronchitis,
for he evidently cannot bear the keen air of
the north. He is couchdnt, but now he lifts
his head high, and looks round and round
the show, into the hundred faces of that
unfeeling crowd as if searching for sympathy.


But no; they cannot read his eyes of mute
appeal; he is nothing to them but great,
tawny lion, with shaggy name, and tufted
tail. Suddenly he rears himself up in his
full stature, throws back his grand head,
utters tremendous desert roar, and falls
down heavily on his side-dead. Dead, but
with an imperial gesture, snch as Caesars
when he fell. Look at the widow! She
has been taking short and stately turns up
and down the den, a very Juno in her gait,
and in temper, too. But she stops, looks in
quirngly at the PROSTATE figure, draws near
er, bends her head with an anxious, bewil-
dered look, and then, as il at last receiving
the great idea, throws herself upon the dead
monarch with great abandonment. Presently
mp comes the heir-crown prince that was.
He is the young king. He stops short, in a
fierce. basque attitude. spreads mis- nostrils,
flashes his eyes and snorts aloud. This was
long and searching gaze, truly. But at
last he too fings himself down upon the
dead body of the lion. Up comes the coarse
looking keeper and hogs away the widow and
son. But they watch their opportunity and
stalk forward again, and throw themselves
down in the same attitude of grief Not
many can say that they have been present at
the death bed of a lion; and never can the
scene, so touching, and yet so grand, be for
gotten by the writer.