THE TIGER.1

In the class of carnivorous animals, the lion is the foremost. Immediately after him, follows the tiger; which, while he possesses all the bad qualities . of the former, seems to be a stranger to his good ones. To pride, to courage, to strength, the lion adds greatness, and sometimes, perhaps, clemency; while the tiger, without provocation, is fierce; without necessity, is cruel. Thus it is throughout all the classes of nature, in which the superiority of rank proceeds from the superiority of strength. The first class, sole masters of all, are less tyrannical than the inferior classes, which, denied so full an exertion of authority, abuse the powers entrusted to them.

More, therefore, than even the lion, the tiger is an object of terror. He is the scourge of every country which he inhabits. Of the appearance of man, and of all his hostile weapons, he is fearless; wild animals, as well as tame ones, fall sacrifices before him; the young elephant and rhinoceros he sometimes attacks; and sometimes, with an increased audacity, he braves the lion himself.

The form of the body usually corresponds with the nature and disposition of the animal. The tiger, with a body too long, with limbs too short, with a head uncovered, and with eyes ghastly and haggard, has no characteristics but those of the basest and most insatiable cruelty. For instinct, he has nothing but a uniform rage, a blind fury; so blind, indeed, so undistinguished, that he frequently devours his own progeny, and, if she offers to defend them, tears in pieces the dam herself.

Happy is it for the rest of nature, that this animal is not common, and that the species is chiefly confined to the warmest provinces of the East. The tiger is found in Malabar, in Siam, and in Bengal.

When he has killed a large animal, such as a horse or a buffalo, he does not choose to devour it on the spot, fearing to be disturbed; and, in order to feast at his ease, he carries off his prey to the forest, dragging it along with such ease, that the swiftness of his motion seems scarcely retarded by the enormous load he sustains.

To give a still more complete idea of the strength of this terrible creature, we shall quote a passage from Father Tachard, who was an eye-witness of a combat of one tiger against two, and even three, elephants, at Siam. For this purpose, the king ordered a lofty palisade to be built, of bamboo cane, about a hundred feet square; and in the midst of this were three elephants, appointed for combating the tiger. Their heads, and part of their trunks, were covered with a kind of armor like a mask, which defended that part from the assaults of the fierce animal with which they were to engage. As soon, (says this author,) as we were arrived at the place, a tiger was brought forth from his den, of a size much larger than we had ever seen before. He was not at first let loose, but held with cords, so that one of the elephants approaching, gave him three or four blows with his trunk on the back, with such force that the tiger was for some time stunned, and lay without motion, as if he had been dead. As soon, however, as he was let loose, and at full liberty, although the first blows had greatly abated his fury, he made at the elephant with a loud shriek, and aimed at seizing his trunk. But the elephant, wrinkling it up with great dexterity, received the tiger on his great teeth, and tossed him up into the air. This so discouraged the furious animal, that he no more ventured to approach the elephant, but made several circuits round the palisade, often attempting to fly at the spectators. Shortly after, a second, and then a third elephant, were sent against him, and they continued to strike him so terribly with their trunks, that he once more lay for dead; and they would certainly have killed him, had not a stop been put to the combat.

The tiger, of which Father Gouie has communicated to the Academy of Sciences an anatomical description, composed by the Jesuit Fathers at China, seems to belong to the true species, as does also that which the Portuguese have distinguished by the name of royal tiger. Dellon expressly says, in his 'Travels,' that there is no country of India in which tigers so much abound, as Malabar; that there the species are numerous, but that the largest of all is that which the Portuguese call the royal tiger, which is very rare, and is as large as a horse.

The species of the tiger has always been much rarer, and much less generally diffused, than that of the lion. Like the lioness, nevertheless, the tigress produces four or five young ones at a birth. From her nature she is fierce at all times; but when surrounded with her infant progeny, and in the

smallest danger of losing them, her rage, her fury, becomes extravagant. To oppose the daring invaders of her den, she braves every danger. On such occasions, she pursues the spoiler with an enmity the most inveterate; and he, contented to lose a part in order to save a part, is frequently obliged to drop one of her cubs. With this she immediately returns to her den, and again pursues him: he then drops another; and, by the time she has returned with that, he generally escapes with the remainder. Should her young be torn from her entirely, with hideous cries she expresses her agony and her despair, and follows the captor to the very town, or ship, in which he may have taken refuge, and dares him, as it were, to come forth.

The skins of these animals are much esteemed all over the East, particularly in China; the mandarins cover their seats of justice in the public places with them, and convert them into coverings for cushions in winter. The Indians eat the flesh of the tiger, and find it neither disagreeable nor unwholesome.

Such is the character which Buffon and many other naturalists have given to the tiger, and it certainly is not calculated to prejudice us in his favor. More recent writers have, however, and apparently with justice, endeavored to remove a part of the odium which has been thrown upon him. Mr Bennett, the scientific and acute author of the description of the animals in the Tower Menagerie and the Zoological Gardens, has labored with much eloquence to raise the tiger in the scale of estimation. "Closely allied to the lion," says he, "whom he resembles in power, in external form, in internal structure, in zoological character, in his prowling habits, and in his sanguinary propensities, the tiger is at once distinguished from that king of beasts, and from every other of their common genus, by the peculiar marking of his coat. On a ground which exhibits in different individuals various shades of yellow, he is elegantly striped by a series of transverse black bands or bars, which occupy the sides of his head, neck, and body, and are continued upon his tail, in the form of rings, the last of the series uniformly occupying the extremity of that organ, and giving to it a black tip of greater or less extent. The under parts of his body and the inner sides of his legs are almost entirely white: he has no mane, and his whole frame, though less elevated than that of the lion, is of a slenderer and more graceful make. His head is also shorter, and more rounded.

"Almost in the same degree that the lion has been exalted and magnified, at the expense of his fellow brutes, has the tiger been degraded and depressed below his natural level. While the one has been held up to admiration, as the type and standard of heroic perfection, the other has, with equal capriciousness and disregard of the close and intimate relationship subsisting between them, been looked upon by mankind in general, with those feelings of unmingled horror and detestation, which his character for untamable ferocity and insatiable thirst of blood, was so well calculated to inspire. It requires, however, but little consideration to teach us that the broad distinc

tion which has been drawn, cannot by possibility exist; and the recorded observations of naturalists and travellers, both at home and abroad, will be found amply sufficient to prove that the difference in their characters and habits, on which so much stress has been laid, is in reality as slight and unessential as that which exists in their corporeal structure.

"Unquestionably, the tiger has not the majesty of the lion; for he is destitute of the mane, in which that majesty chiefly resides. Neither has he the same calm and dignified air of imperturbable gravity which is at once so striking and so prepossessing in the aspect of the lion. But, on the other hand, it will readily be granted, that in the superior lightness of his frame, which allows his natural agility its free and unrestricted scope, and in the graceful ease and spirited activity of his motions, to say nothing of the beauty, the regularity, and the vividness of his coloring, he far excels his competitor, whose giant bulk and comparative heaviness of person, added to the dull uniformity of his color, detract in no small degree from the impression produced by his noble and majestic bearing.

"In comparing the moral qualities of these two formidable animals, we shall also find that the shades of difference, for at most they are but shades, which distinguish them, are, like their external characteristics, pretty equally balanced in favor of each. In all the leading features of their character, the habits of both are essentially the same. The tiger, equally with the lion, and in common indeed with the whole of the group to which he belongs, reposes indolently in the security of his den, until the calls of appetite stimulate him to look abroad for food. He then chooses a convenient ambush, in which to lie concealed from observation, generally amid the underwood of the forest, but sometimes even on the branches of a tree, which he climbs with all the agility of a cat. In this secret covert he awaits with patient watchfulness the approach of his prey, upon which he darts forth with an irresistible bound, and bears it off in triumph to his den. Unlike the lion, however, if his first attack proves unsuccessful, and he misses his aim, he does not usually slink sullenly back into his retreat, but pursues his victim with a speed and activity which is seldom baffled even by the fleetest animals.

"It is evident, then, that in the general outline of his habits, and even in most of the separate traits by which his character is marked, he differs but little from the lion. His courage, if brute force stimulated by sensual appetite can deserve that honorable name, is at least equal; and as for magnanimity and generosity, the idea of attributing such noble qualities to either, is in itself so absurd, and is so fully refuted by every particular of their authentic history, that it would be perfectly ridiculous to attempt a comparison where no materials for comparison exist."

That the tiger is not irreclaimably ferocious, and that he is capable not merely of a capricious and transient liking, but of an enduring attachment, the following story affords an extraordinary and convincing proof. “A

beautiful young tiger, brought in the Pitt, East Indiaman, from China, in the year 1790, was so far domesticated as to admit of every kind of familiarity from the people on board the ship. 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 on its back as upon a pillow, while it lay stretched out upon the deck. In return for this indulgence, it would, however, now and then steal their meat. Having one day stolen 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 many other tricks, with an agility that was truly astonishing. There was a dog on board, with which it would frequently play in the most diverting manner imaginable. This animal was taken on board the ship when it was only a month or six weeks old, and arrived in England before it had quite completed its first year. On its arrival it was presented to the king, and was afterwards deposited in the Tower of London. It even there continued to be perfectly good-natured, and was, in no instance, known to be guilty of any savage or mischievous tricks.

"In the year 1801, one day after this tiger had been fed, his keeper put into the den to him, a small, rough, black terrier puppy, a female. The beast suffered it to remain uninjured, and soon afterwards became so much attached to it, as to be restless and unhappy whenever the animal was taken away to be fed. On its return, the tiger invariably expressed the greatest symptoms of delight, always welcoming its arrival by gently licking over every part of its body. In one or two instances the terrier was left in the den, by mistake, during the time the tiger had his food. The dog sometimes ventured to eat with him, but the tiger generally appeared' dissatisfied with this liberty. After a residence with the tiger of several months, the terrier was removed to make way for a little female Dutch mastiff. It was, however, thought advisable, before the terrier was taken away, to shut up the mastiff for three or four days among the straw of the tiger's bed, to take off, if possible, any smell that might be offensive to the animal. The exchange was made soon after the animals had been fed; the tiger seemed perfectly satisfied with his new companion, and immediately began to lick it, as he had before done the terrier. The dog seemed at first in considerable alarm with so formidable an inmate, but in the course of the day he became perfectly reconciled to his situation. This diminutive creature the tiger would suffer to play with him, with the greatest good-nature. I have myself, says Mr Bingley, seen it bark at him, and bite him by the foot and mouth, without his expressing the least displeasure. When the dog, in its frolic, seized his foot, he merely lifted it up out of its mouth, and seemed otherwise heedless of its attacks.

"Strange dogs were several times put into the tiger's den after his feed