poisonous breath, it is satisfactory to learn
(from Pliny) that he has no venom proper
"in him;" on the contrary, after he is dead and
done for—in the way Saint George, or his
humorous prototype, Moore of Moore Hall,
settled him—his remains are highly medicinal.
"The eies of a dragon," says Pliny, "preserved
drie, pulverised, and incorporat with hony
into a liniment, cause those who be annointed
all over to sleepe securely, without any dread
of night-spirits, though otherwise they were
fearfull and timorous by nature. Moreover,
the fat growing about the heart of a dragon,
lapped within a piece of a bucke's or doe's
skin, and so tied fast to the arme with the
nerves or sinewes of a red deere, is very
available and assureth a man good success in
all suites of law." With every kind of respect
for this recipe, I should greatly prefer to
learn that my solicitor had secured Sir F.
Thesiger or Sergeant Ballantine, in preference
to any amount of dragon's fat. In the same
way, I think, Mr. Hayter would be more
serviceable, if I wished to be introduced to
Lord Palmerston, than "the first spondyle or
turning-joint in the chine of a dragon," which
"doth promise an easie and favourable access
unto the presence of great lords and
potentates," or than the teeth of a dragon, which
has the property of mitigating the rigour of
high personages, and causing them to incline
to the petitions and requests of those who
present themselves before them. If you wish
for success in everything you undertake, you
have only to go to Savory and Moore, and get
them to make up the following prescription:
"Take the taile and head both of a dragon,
the haire growing upon the forehead of a
lion, with a little also of his marrow" (to be
had at Truefitt's, in five-shilling bottles), "the
froth, moreover, that a horse fometh at the
mouth who hath woon the victory and prize
in running a race" (apply to Sam Scott or
John Day for this), "and the nailes besides
of a dog's-feete" (the Regent Street gentlemen
will furnish any quantity); "bind all
these together with a piece of leather made
of a red deere skin, with the sinewes partly
of a stag, partly of a fallow deere, one with
another in alternative course; carrie this
about you, and it will work wonders!" All
these admirable properties after death do
not, however, prevent the dragon from being,
when alive, the most formidable beast in
creation; and it may, therefore, be soothing
to the mind of the reader, affrighted at
the terrible narrations of Glanvil, Solinus,
Pliny, and the rest, to read what Cuvier says
of the dragon. "The dragon (draco) is a
small lizard, with a long, slender, round tail;
its body is covered with small scales, and on
its back are two triangular membranous
kind of wings, sustained by six cartilaginous
rays, articulated on the spine. Under its
throat is a long pouch, and there are two
other and smaller ones on each side of its
head, which it can swell out at wilL This
INNOCENT ANIMAL inhabits India, and lives on
flies, which it pursues leaping from branch to
branch." There are many varieties of the
modern dragon, equally harmless.

When Winifred Jenkins exclaimed, in her
exquisite cacology, "I've been a vixen and a
griffin this many a day!" that pattern
Abigail had no desire to liken herself to a
Xantippe, or to assume the attributes of the
animal which Glanvil defines as being
"between a beast and a bird: a beast as relates
to its general form, for it is bodied like a
lion; a bird with respect to its extremities,
for it is headed and winged, and has the
talons of an eagle." Such is the Cordelier's
account of the griffin, and the heralds have
adopted his version in their blazonry. Ctesias,
however, paints the creatures differently. He
calls them "birds with four feet, of the size
of a wolf, and having the legs and claws of a
lion. Their feathers are red on the breast,
and black on the rest of the body." In the
number of legs, Glanvil agrees with Ctesias,
as well as in some absolute bird-like properties:
but, treated altogether as a bird, the
griffin must certainly be looked upon as a
rara avis. Hear Glanvil: "The claws of the
griffin are so large and ample, that he can
seize an armed man by the body as easily as
a hawk a little bird. In like manner he can
carry off a horse, an ox, or any other beast,
in his flight, when he sets his claws in them.
So great is the strength of his wings, that by
their mere motion the wind will knock a man
down; so large and widely spread are they,
that if he were to fly over a street" (the
dwellers in which he would slightly astonish),
"his wings would touch the houses on both
sides. It is no wonder," continues Glanvil,
"that his claws are so large, seeing that his
nails are as long as the horns of an ox. The
proof of this is shown in the Holy Chapel at
Paris" (it is not there at this present writing),
"where the claw of a young griffin hangs in
the middle of the aisle, attached to a chain;
it was cut off by a man-at-arms, who had
been carried into the desert by an old griffin,
there to be devoured by his" (or her) "little
ones. This valiant man found the means of
escaping after he had fought for a long time
with the young griffins, in the absence of the
parents" (who kindly withdrew during the
combat). ''And thence he transported
himself by flight to a seaport, where he found
the means of crossing the sea with a boat-
man, paying his passage" (a cheap way of
travelling) "by relating his adventure. And
afterwards he brought the aforesaid claw to
France, and deposited it in the aforesaid holy
chapel, where many who have been there
have seen it." The Sainte Chapelle was not,
however, the only place that could boast of a
relic of griffin-hood, for in a note to a
passage in the Travels of Sir John Mandevile
(London. Eighteen hundred and thirty-nine.
Pago two hundred and sixty-nine), a claw
"four feet long" is described as being "in