The belief still prevailed that the lion sleeps with its eyes open; hence it became the emblem of vigilance, and Saint Hilary and Saint Augustine read in this manner of taking repose an allusion to the Divine nature, which was not extinguished even in the sepulchre, though the human nature of the Redeemer was in truth dead.

Finally, as it was considered certain that this animal effaced the traces of its steps in the sand of the desert with its tail, Raban Maur, Saint Epiphanius, and Saint Isidor regarded it as signifying the Saviour veiling His Godhead under the forms of the flesh.

“Not an ordinary beast—­the lion!” exclaimed Durtal.  “Well,” he went on, consulting his notes, “the ox is less pretentious!  It is the paragon of strength with humility; according to Saint Paul it is emblematical of the priesthood; of the preacher, according to Raban Maur; of the Bishop, according to Peter Cantor, because, says this writer, the prelate wears a mitre of which the two horns resemble those of an ox, and he uses these horns, which are the wisdom of the Two Testaments, to rip up heretics.  Still, in spite of these more or less ingenious interpretations, the ox is in fact the beast of immolation and sacrifice.

“Turning to the eagle, it is, as we have seen, the Messiah pouncing on souls to catch them; but other meanings are ascribed to it by Saint Isidor and by Vincent of Beauvais.  If we believe them, the eagle that desires to test the prowess of his eaglets takes them in his talons and carries them out into the sun, compelling them to look with their eyes as they begin to open, on the blazing orb.  The eagle which is dazzled by the fire is dropped and cast away by the parent bird.  Thus doth God reject the soul which cannot gaze on him with the contemplative eye of love!

“The eagle, again, is typical of the Resurrection; Saint Epiphanius and Saint Isidor explain it thus:  The eagle in old age flies up so near to the sun that its feathers catch fire; revived by the flames, it drops into the nearest spring, bathes in it three times and comes out regenerate:  is not this indeed the paraphrase of the Psalmist’s verse, “Thy youth shall be renewed as the eagle’s”?  Saint Madalene of Pazzi, however, regards it differently, and takes it to typify faith leaning on charity.

“I shall have to find a place for all these documents in my article,” sighed Durtal, placing these notes in a separate wrapper.

Now for the chimerical fauna introduced from the East, imported into Europe by the Crusaders, and travestied by the illuminators of missals and by image-makers.

Foremost, the dragon, which we already find rampant and busy in mythology and in the Bible.

Durtal rose and went into his library to find a book, “Traditions teratologiques,” by Berger de Xivrey.  It contained long extracts from the “Romance of Alexander,” which was the delight of the grown-up children of the Middle Ages.