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 167-sr 
 

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 •ft > •, 
 
 ANIMALS AND THEIR 
 
 
 MASTERS 
 
 BY THE 
 
 Author of 'Friends in Council' 
 
 NEW AND CHEAPER EDITION 
 
 
 LONDON 
 DALDY, ISBISTER, & CO. 
 
 56, LUDGATE HILL 
 
 18/S 
 

 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY VIRTUE AND CO., 
 
 CITY ROAD. 
 
 Library of Congress 
 By transfer from 
 
 State artment. 
 
 MAY 3 1 1927 
 
*4 
 
 ^O 
 
 
 TO THE 
 
 BARONESS BURDETT COUTTS 
 
 WHOSE EFFORTS TO PROMOTE THE HUMANE TREATMENT OF ANIMALS 
 HAVE BEEN EARNEST AND UNREMITTING 
 
 &Ins W&oxh. u §zbuntzb 
 
 WITH MUCH REGARD AND RESPECT 
 
 BV 
 
 THE AUTHOR 
 
Nous debvons la justice aux hommes, et la grace et la 
 benignite aux aultres creatures qui en peuvent estre 
 capables : il y a quelque commerce entre elles et nous, 
 et quelque obligation mutuelle. — Montaigne. 
 
 £)u fityrfi Me SRei&en ber SebenbtQen 
 
 $$ot mtr sorbet/ unb lefyrft mtcW metne 33rubet* 
 
 Sm flttten SBuftf), in Suft unb Staffer lennen. 
 
 ©oetfje. 
 
 The gentleness of chivalry, properly so called, depends on 
 the recognition of the order and awe of lower and loftier 
 animal life, first clearly taught in the myth of Chiron, and in 
 his bringing up of Jason, /Esculapius, and Achilles, but most 
 perfectly by Homer, in the fable of the horses of Achilles, 
 and the part assigned to them, in relation to the death of 
 his friend, and in prophecy of his own. There is, perhaps, 
 in all the ' Iliad,' nothing more deep in significance — there 
 is nothing in all literature more perfect in human tenderness, 
 and honour for the mystery of inferior life — than the verses 
 that describe the sorrow of the divine horses at the death of 
 Patroclus, and the comfort given them by the greatest of the 
 gods. — Ruskin. 
 
SOME TALK ABOUT 
 
 ANIMALS and their MASTERS 
 
 -*o+- 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ' I A HE conversations that follow took place 
 •*- during an Easter vacation. The persons 
 who joined in the conversations were those who 
 have before been known as ' Friends in Council. ' 
 They are Sir John Ellesmere, a lawyer of much 
 renown ; Sir Arthur Goddphin, a statesman and 
 a learned man ; Mr. Cranmer, an official person ; 
 Mr. Mauleverer ; Mr. Milverton ; Mrs. Milverton ; 
 Lady Ellesmere ; and myself, Mr. Milverton's 
 private secretary. It was sometimes their fancy 
 to take one theme as the subject of their conver- 
 sation ; and this would be kept to as closely as 
 the discursive nature of some of them, notably 
 of Sir John Ellesmere, would allow. 
 
 The reason why the particular subject of the 
 treatment of animals was chosen on this occasion 
 
 6 
 
2 ANIMALS AND 
 
 is truly related by Mr. Milverton, who, after his 
 escape from drowning, said to me exactly the same 
 thing which he tells to the other friends. 
 
 I cannot help thinking that the general question 
 is one of the deepest interest, and that it is one 
 which may be well treated in the way of dialogue. 
 I at first urged Mr. Milverton to write an essay, 
 or treatise, on the subject; upon the whole, I 
 am glad that he did not adopt my advice, but 
 brought out the points which he wished to urge in 
 the course of these conversations with the other 
 ' Friends in Council.' 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Mr. Milverton. I want to consult you about 
 something. But, first of all, I must tell you that 
 there has nearly been a vacancy among the ' Friends 
 in Council ! ' I was upset from a boat in the river 
 the other day. 
 
 Sir John Ellesmere. Good gracious, Milverton ! 
 How could you be so foolish as to let such a careless 
 person as yourself go out in a little boat — for I have 
 no doubt it was a little one — on this perilous river ? 
 
 Mr. Cranmer. I must say it was very imprudent. 
 
 Mr. Mauleverer. One optimist the less : what a 
 loss to the world ! 
 
 Ellesmere. But tell us all about it. 
 
 Milverton. My godson, Leonard Travers, was 
 going out to the colonies ; and the day before he 
 went, he asked me to go out for a row with him. 
 I hate boating : one can't move about in a boat. 
 What Dr. Johnson says of a ship is, to my mind, still 
 more applicable to that greater evil, a boat. But 
 
 B 2 
 
4 ANIMALS AND 
 
 when a young fellow is going away, and one may 
 never see him again, one can't refuse him anything. 
 Ellcsmere. He was not so idiotic as to let you steer, 
 
 was he ? 
 
 Milverton. No : but I winked, or coughed, or 
 pointed to some beautiful building on the side of the 
 river, whereupon the wretched thing— I think they call 
 it an outrigger— turned over ; and there was I in the 
 water. Luckily it was not far from the shore, and 
 somehow or other I got to land, having been im- 
 mersed from head to foot. Not one of the least 
 annoyances on such occasions, is the being accom- 
 panied by a troop of boys to the first place of refuge. 
 Ellcsmere. That is one of the most curious facts 
 in natural history. In tropical climates an overladen 
 mule falls down upon the sandy plain, never to rise 
 again. Forthwith, in the dim distance, a black speck 
 is seen to arise. It is the vulture which is coming 
 for a feast. There is the same phenomenon to be 
 observed with boys as with vultures. I met with a 
 cab accident the other day. The axle broke, the 
 wheels came in, on both sides of the cab, and we 
 were at once a pitiable wreck. Thereupon, twenty or 
 thirty boys, appearing to rise out of the ground, sur- 
 rounded us. It is my nrm belief that misfortune breeds 
 boys without any superfluous assistance from parents. 
 Milverton. I must now tell you what were 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 5 
 
 my thoughts, after my first thankfulness for deliver- 
 ance from what was really a great peril. 
 
 I have written several books in my lifetime. 
 
 Ellesmere. Yes ! 
 
 Milverton. And have discussed many subjects 
 in those books. 
 
 Ellesmere. Yes ! 
 
 Sir Arthur Godolphin. You need not speak in 
 quite so dolorous a tone Ellesmere. 
 
 Ellesmere. It is always painful to listen to one's 
 friends' confessions of their past errors and follies. 
 
 Milverton. Never mind his nonsense. What I 
 was going to say is, that I have never done justice 
 to a subject which has the deepest interest for me, 
 namely, the treatment of the lower animals by man. 
 I said to myself, I will not go out in a boat again, 
 
 or take a journey upon the railway, before I 
 
 have put down my thoughts, and really said my 
 say, upon the important question of the treatment of 
 animals. 
 
 Mauleverer. But what did you want to consult 
 us about ? 
 
 Ellesjnere. What a farce the consultation of friends 
 is ! What a fellow generally wants, and is very angry 
 if he does not get when he consults his friends, 
 is an entire approval on their part of what he is 
 resolved to do. 
 
6 ANIMALS AND 
 
 Milvcrton. I wanted to consult you as to the best 
 means of putting forward my views upon this question. 
 Shall I try a pamphlet ? 
 
 Ellesmere. No ; people can't abide pamphlets in 
 these days. The pamphlet has vanished into space. 
 
 Sir Arthur. M ore's the pity. Some of the best 
 things that were written in our early days were put 
 in the form of pamphlets. Do think of Sydney 
 Smith's pamphlets, for instance. 
 
 Ellesmere. But pamphleteering is a dead and 
 
 gone thing. 
 
 Milvcrton. I could introduce what I want to say 
 
 into some report. 
 
 Ellesmere. There is nothing so confidential as 
 reports. If 1 wished to make love to a lady, and to 
 make it most secretly, I should insert my love- 
 letters into some official report, and then get it pub- 
 lished in a blue book. Why not talk the matter 
 out ? I know that conversations, even ours, are a 
 perplexity to some people— those people who are 
 always anxious for clear, undoubted views, for definite 
 results, for something at once to enlighten and guide 
 them without any trouble on their part. But I boldly 
 say this, that the greatest and most secure portion 
 of the teaching of the world has been done in and 
 by conversation, or, to use a finer word, in and by 
 dialogue. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 7 
 
 Here Sir John Ellesmere paused, and there was 
 silence for a minute or two. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I never heard this question so boldly 
 stated ; but, upon my word, I think Ellesmere is 
 right. Many of the most memorable things in lite- 
 rature, and even in higher teaching than that of 
 literature, have been given forth in dialogue. 
 
 Milverton. Dialogue has its drawbacks ; but I 
 think with Ellesmere that it has immense advan- 
 tages. It happens particularly to suit me, because 
 I am always anxious not to overstate, and to be 
 tolerably secure in what I ultimately make up my 
 mind to abide by. Now if I submit any of my 
 thoughts to you, who are men of such varied natures 
 and pursuits, and these thoughts pass muster with 
 you, or do so without a damaging amount of ob- 
 jection, I feel tolerably comfortable about them, and 
 think that they may then be given to a wider circle. 
 But I am not ready now. 
 
 Ellesmere.- Yes, you are. If we allow you to get 
 ' ready/ as you call it, there will be a treatise. How is 
 it that most pictures are spoiled — especially por- 
 traits ? By working too much at them. I have often 
 observed that there is a great likeness after the third 
 sitting, which is gradually improved away. It is the 
 effort at completeness which results in that i padding ' 
 
8 ANIMALS AND 
 
 that is the ruin of so much £ood work. Give us 
 your main thoughts, if only the headings that there 
 would be of chapters. 
 
 Milverton* First, I should point out the enormous 
 extent of thoughtless and purposeless cruelty to 
 animals. You really can have no adequate idea 
 of this, until you have studied the subject^ when 
 you will be able to appreciate the vastness of this 
 area of cruelty. The subject would be divided under 
 several heads : the cruelties inflicted upon beasts of 
 draught and of burden ; the cruelties inflicted in the 
 transit of animals used for food; the cruelties inflicted 
 upon pets ; the cruelties perpetrated for what is 
 called science ; and, generally, the careless and igno- 
 rant treatment manifested in the sustenance of ani- 
 mals from whom you have taken all means and 
 opportunities of providing for themselves. It is a 
 formidable catalogue, and I think that the details 
 which I should furnish for each chapter would as- 
 tonish and shock you beyond measure. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Doubtless you have considered, in 
 reference to this subject, the varied treatment of 
 the lower animals, by the different races of mankind. 
 
 Milverton. I have ; but I think that there is a 
 broader way of looking at this part of the subject 
 than that which has reference alone to difference of 
 race. There is no one phrase which would embrace 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 9 
 
 what I mean ; but, speaking generally, the difference 
 of human conduct to animals depends largely upon 
 the differences of culture in men, and still more upon 
 the differences of their familiarity with animals. 
 
 I am very glad, Sir Arthur, that you asked me 
 the question which you have just asked; for it brings 
 me naturally to a mode of viewing the subject, which 
 seems to me of the utmost importance, and which I 
 did not see the proper way of introducing. Now 
 let us go into detail. When the familiarity is* 
 extreme — when, for instance, the lower animal is con- 
 stantly the companion of man, and is one of the 
 family, as, for example, the horse with his Arab 
 master — the man begins to understand the lower 
 animal; and understanding of this sort necessarily 
 produces kindness and sympathy. 
 
 There is a familiarity of a much lower order, and 
 this does not necessarily produce kindness, unless it is 
 accompanied by some culture. 
 
 Then, there is culture of a high kind, such as exists 
 in the higher classes everywhere. That amount of 
 culture w r ould lead to a thoroughly good treatment of 
 animals, if it were but joined with the needful 
 familiarity. 
 
 There is always something rather hazy in any axioms 
 of a general kind that one may lay down. A very 
 slight, yet significant, illustration will carry home my 
 
io ANIMALS AND 
 
 meaning to you. There is a thing called the bearing 
 rein. It is an atrocity when applied to a draught 
 horse. It contradicts every sound principle con- 
 nected with this subject. The coachman, who has some 
 familiarity with the animal, but not the Arabian 
 familiarity, is uncultured, and has not the slightest 
 notion of the real effect of this rein. The cultivated 
 master or mistress, who knows, or might by a few 
 words be taught, the mischief of this rein, and the 
 discomfort which it causes to the animal, is often so 
 unfamiliar with the animal, that he or she is quite 
 unobservant of the way in which it is treated, and 
 does not understand its mode of expressing its dis- 
 comfort. You will notice, on the other hand, that, as 
 a general rule, the educated man who drives his own 
 horses, and learns to know something about them, 
 slackens this bearing rein, or leaves it off altogether. 
 
 Now this comparatively trivial instance is capable, 
 I can assure you, of the most general and wide ap- 
 plication. The one class does not know, the other 
 does not heed. 
 
 That most accomplished of modern political econo- 
 mists, Bastiat, points out how a class of work falls 
 into routine, and into the sphere of action of the 
 least instructed classes : — 
 
 Un ensemble de travaux qui suppose, a l'origine, des 
 connaissances tres-variees, par le seul benefice des siccles, 
 
THEIR MASTERS. II 
 
 tombe, sous le nom de routine^ dans la sphere d'action des 
 classes les moins instruites ; c'est ce qui est arrive pour 
 l'agriculture. Des procedes agricoles, qui, dans l'antiquite, 
 meriterent a ceux qui les ont reveles au monde les hon- 
 neurs de l'apotheose, sont aujourd'hui l'heritage, et 
 presque le monopole, des hommes les plus grossiers, et a tel 
 point que cette branche si importante de l'industrie humaine 
 est, pour ainsi dire, entierement soustraite aux classes bie7i 
 e levees. * 
 
 This remark, as you see, applies to agriculture. I 
 am going to apply it to the treatment of animals. By 
 the way, I must just note that Bastiat's censure does 
 not apply to England so much as to France ; for it 
 cannot be maintained that with us agriculture is the 
 monopoly of the most coarse men. This correction, 
 however, of Bastiat's statement will not detract from 
 the force of my illustration, but will enhance its value. 
 If you had the intelligence of cultured people, joined 
 to the familiarity with animals which the ordinary 
 practical farmer possesses, you would then have an 
 admirable treatment of stock, and that includes a 
 humane treatment. Pretty nearly half the diseases of 
 the domestic animals are the result of a direct viola- 
 tion of the laws of nature upon the part of the owners 
 of the animals. The loss to the nation is immense; 
 and I am convinced that there is no way out of this 
 
 * Bastiat, ' Harmonies economiques. ' 
 
12 ANIMALS AND 
 
 difficulty, but by the union in the owner of culture 
 and a certain familiarity with the animal which he 
 owns. 
 
 What I have just said is substantially the answer to 
 your question, Sir Arthur. You ask me to explain the 
 varied treatment of animals by different races. I reply 
 to you — Do not look at the question as a matter of 
 race. There are higher laws which govern it than 
 those resulting from difference of race. I would not, 
 however, pedantically lay down as a dictum that race 
 has nothing whatever to do with the matter. Dif- 
 ference of race may have some influence, but not that 
 dominating influence which the other causes I have 
 intimated possess. 
 
 It is always pleasant to indulge in a little person- 
 ality. Here is Ellesmere. I suppose everyone who 
 knows him would admit that he is fonder of the lower 
 animals than of men — at least he finds much less fault 
 with these lower animals. But he is not familiar with 
 them, except with our clog Fairy, and his equestrian 
 knowledge is not quite on a par with his legal know- 
 ledge. I might venture to assert that he has not 
 driven a pair of horses since he left college. I ob- 
 served that his coachman was as absurd as most 
 other coachmen about this detestable bearing rein. 
 When Ellesmere was first made Attorney- General — 
 
 Ellesmere. How I do hate personality ! 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 13 
 
 Milverton. — the bearing rein was tightened in 
 honour of the master's rising fortunes. Poor Elles- 
 mere never noticed this. What is the good, you see, 
 of fondness for animals without knowledge or observa- 
 tion of their ways ? I hate interference with other 
 people's affairs, but I could not stand this tightening 
 of the bearing rein, and so I attacked Eliesmere him- 
 self upon the point. Moreover, I ventured to discuss 
 with him the arrangements of his stable. They were 
 abominable. Of course his horses were always ill. 
 Ventilation was a thing unthought of. I must do 
 Eliesmere the justice to say that he listened to me 
 very patiently, and provided remedies for all the evils 
 I noticed. Now is not this a true bill, Eliesmere ? 
 
 Eliesmere. Yes : I must own it is ; and I wish you 
 could know the trouble I had in persuading my coach- 
 man to discard the bearing rein. 
 
 Milverton. But, seriously speaking, though my 
 instances may have been trivial, are they not suffi- 
 cient ? I should not like to worry you with all the 
 details which go to prove ill-management, both as 
 regards economy and humanity, of draught horses 
 and of farming stock generally. I re-state my first 
 statement, which is to this effect : that perfect 
 familiarity with the animal will almost supply the 
 place of culture ; that imperfect familiarity requires to 
 be joined with culture on the part of the owner ; and, 
 
14 ANIMALS AND 
 
 finally, that culture without the requisite familiarity 
 admits of barbarous things being done, or rather per- 
 mitted, by the owner, from sheer want of thought and 
 observation. 
 
 Ellesmere. He lays down the law, doesn't he ? One 
 would think he had been brought up as a farrier, a 
 veterinary surgeon, or a cow-doctor. 
 
 Milverton. I hope I have not been arrogant ; but 
 though not a farrier nor a cow-doctor, it has been a part 
 of my business, for many years, to consider the treat- 
 ment of animals — a somewhat hard fate for one so 
 sensitive as I am as regards their sufferings. But, 
 perhaps, the knowledge I have gained may be made of 
 some use, and so I must not mind the pain that I have 
 endured in gaining it. 
 
 Sir Arthur's question diverted me from the branch 
 of the subject I was next going to consider ; which 
 was the transit of animals. The cruelties of this 
 transit have increased, by reason of the changed modes 
 of locomotion. Perhaps, however, it would be safer 
 to say that new forms of suffering have been intro- 
 duced by this change, to alleviate which the proper 
 remedies have not yet been fully provided. The 
 Transit of Animals Committee, of which I was a 
 member, made a beginning in the way of improve- 
 ment as regards this transit ; and their recommenda- 
 tions have been, to some extent, adopted by the 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 15 
 
 Government. But much remains to be done. I will 
 give you the most recent case within my knowledge of 
 the inhuman treatment of animals in transit. 
 
 A few weeks ago there arrived at one of our ports a 
 German vessel, with 1,793 sheep alive, and 5 dead. 
 On inquiry, it was found that 646 sheep had been 
 thrown overboard during the voyage. Of course this 
 was put down to stress of weather ; but the real truth 
 was, that the poor animals had been most inhumanely 
 crowded together, without any of those provisions 
 against over-crowding which were laid down, as 
 absolutely necessary, by our committee. In fact, the 
 646 sheep were suffocated. You will observe it was a 
 German vessel, and all that our Government could do 
 was to lay the facts before the German authorities, 
 expressing a hope that when the attention of the 
 German Government should be given to the regula- 
 tions which the English Government have adopted in 
 this matter, and to the cruel sufferings which are 
 experienced by animals during transit through over- 
 crowding and faulty ventilation, steps might be taken to 
 compel shipowners to adopt contrivances which would 
 lessen the amount of ill-usage to which animals are 
 frequently exposed during their passage from Germany 
 to this country. 
 
 Elles7?iere. Bismarck would soon set these matters 
 to rights, if he once gave his attention to them. 
 
1 6 ANIMALS AND 
 
 Cranmer. But surely, Milverton, the remedy for 
 these inhumanities, which result in such great losses, 
 will be provided by the shipper ? 
 
 Milverton, There enters the peculiar delusion 
 which besets men like yourself, Cranmer, who believe 
 wholly in certain dicta of political economy. You 
 think, or you talk as if you thought, that every man 
 has a plenary power of protecting himself and his own 
 interests, whereas I maintain that the individual is 
 often perfectly powerless. The owner of those sheep, 
 doubtless, grieves over his loss — is perhaps half- 
 ruined by that loss, and would, as you contend, take 
 care not to run the risk of any such loss again. But 
 in practice this is not found to be the case. A man 
 brings his sheep to the place of export. He cannot 
 afford to keep them long there, waiting for a vessel 
 that should be properly prepared to carry animals, if 
 indeed there exists such a ship engaged in the trade 
 at that port. He is not a shipowner, and has pro- 
 bably but little influence with shipowners. It would 
 require great skill, energy, and devotion to a purpose 
 foreign from his pursuits, to organise a combination 
 of sheep dealers, who might insist upon provision 
 being made in cattle-carrying ships for the proper 
 treatment of animals. 
 
 I made inquiries, from experienced persons, upon 
 this very point. I asked whether this owner of the 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 17 
 
 suffocated sheep would be likely to be able to pro- 
 vide, by any management on his part, against a 
 recurrence of this fearful and cruel loss. They told 
 me that they thought not — that he would be obliged 
 to use the means of transit provided at his port, 
 whether they were good or whether they were bad. 
 
 This is one of the many instances in which, as I 
 contend, the only remedy is to be found in Govern- 
 mental action. 
 
 Sir Arthur, I agree with you in the main, Mil- 
 verton; but you slightly exaggerate here. In the 
 course of time a remedy would be found. Gradually 
 combination would arise among the sheepowners : 
 competition would come in. New vessels would be 
 built, in which, from the first, when it would be far 
 less expensive, arrangements would be made for the 
 more humane carrying on of the traffic. 
 
 Milverton. Well, it may be so : but observe all 
 that you say is hypothetical, and is to happen, if ever 
 it does happen, * in the course of time ; ' whereas the 
 German Government can prescribe, as our Govern- 
 ment has prescribed, certain regulations which would 
 at once go some way to attain the desired object. 
 
 You must not expect the owner of the cattle to take 
 excessive heed of the loss that even he himself sus- 
 tains by unwise and cruel modes of transit. He is 
 accustomed to that loss : he knew of its extent when 
 
 c 
 
j 8 ANIMALS AND 
 
 he first entered into the business : he looks upon it as 
 a result of the nature of things ; and, finally, what is 
 of most importance, he calculates that his competitors 
 suffer exactly the same amount of loss, and therefore 
 it is of but little matter, commercially speaking. It is 
 only when an exceptional loss occurs to himself, that 
 his attention is aroused to the general loss arising from 
 the ill-managed transit of animals. But for the public 
 it should be a matter of daily concern, and of much 
 interest to them, that this transit should be well-regu- 
 lated. Comparing the whole business with that most 
 fearful and wicked one, of the transit of slaves, their 
 numerous deaths in ' the middle passage ' was of very 
 much less importance to the. owner of the slave-carrying 
 vessel, than to the slave-importing colony or country. 
 You cannot doubt that the public suffers greatly 
 from this imperfect and inhuman mode of transit — in 
 the loss of those animals which die, in the deteriora- 
 tion of those that survive, and in the probable intro- 
 duction of diseased meat. On those grounds alone I 
 think we have a right to ask for the interference of 
 Government. It is very probable that, at the port of 
 entry in England, the price of meat was slightly in- 
 creased on the next market-day after that German 
 vessel had arrived, by reason of the loss of these 646 
 sheep that were expected. Many a poor housewife 
 may have grumbled and fretted at this increased 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 19 
 
 price, and blamed the butcher, little imagining that it 
 was all the fault of some ©efyetmratf) in distant Berlin, 
 who had never taken the pains to look after a matter 
 that properly belonged to his department. 
 
 I may also notice how injurious is the absence of 
 the proper regulations for cattle-transit to the export- 
 ing countries. Of course their cattle come to be looked 
 upon unfavourably in the markets of the world ; and 
 therefore the improvement of their cattle-carrying 
 ships is a thing which concerns the whole of their 
 agricultural population. 
 
 Ellesmere. I hate a fellow who is always chock 
 full of facts. No sooner does one produce a good 
 argument (I really thought Cranmer was going to 
 make a good case), than our fact-full friend whips out 
 some unpleasant fact, which knocks over the whole of 
 the argument. I must say that Milverton has the best 
 of the contest. 
 
 Mauleverer. I have not hitherto said a word. I 
 know as well as possible that whatever I should say 
 in the way of opposition or cavil, would be met on 
 Milverton's part by some of these unpleasant facts ; 
 and so I shall join in the conversation by coming to 
 his aid. I like what you call the lower animals, and 
 though I think that men are nearly incorrigible, some- 
 thing may be done by educating them a little better, in 
 
 regard to the humane treatment of animals. I am not 
 
 c 2 
 
20 ANIMALS AND 
 
 a great frequenter of preachers now ; but, upon a 
 moderate calculation, I think I have heard, in my 
 time, 1,320 sermons ; and I do not recollect that in 
 any one of them I ever heard the slightest allusion 
 made to the conduct of men towards animals. I think 
 that it would not have been a wasteful expenditure 
 of exhortation if, in two per cent, of these sermons, 
 the humane treatment of animals had been the main 
 subject of the discourse. 
 
 Ellesmere. Very good, Mauleverer. The great de- 
 fect of preaching nowadays is, that the sermons 
 appear to be built upon the supposition that the 
 preacher is introducing Christianity for the first time 
 to the notice of his hearers. 
 
 A f liver ton. Returning to the treatment of beasts of 
 draught and burden, I sometimes think that it was a 
 misfortune for the world that the horse was ever sub- 
 jugated. The horse is the animal that has been the worst 
 treated by man ; and his subjugation has not been 
 altogether a gain to mankind. The oppressions which 
 he has aided in were, from the earliest ages, excessive. 
 He it is to whom we owe much of the rapine of those 
 ages called ' the dark ages/ And I have a great notion 
 that he has been the main instrument of the bloodiest 
 warfare. I wish men had to drag their own cannon 
 up-hill ; I doubt whether they would not'rebel at that. 
 And a commander, obliged to be on foot throughout 
 the campaign, would very soon get tired of war. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 21 
 
 To what a height of material civilization a nation 
 might arrive without the horse, was to be seen in 
 Mexico and Peru, when the Spaniards first entered 
 and devastated those regions, where they found thou- 
 sands of houses well built, and with gardens attached 
 to them. I doubt whether there was a single Mexican 
 so ill-lodged as millions of our poor countrymen are. 
 So you see, when I almost regret the subjugation of 
 the horse, I assume that civilization would not thereby 
 have certainly been retarded, 
 
 Ellesmere. I do not object to the horse having 
 been subjugated ; but what I regret is, that he does not 
 make a noise. Considering how he is wronged, he is 
 the most quiet and uncomplaining creature in the 
 world. Observe the cab-horse quietly lifting up one 
 of his fore-feet, just showing to the observant by- 
 stander how full it is of pain (you see I do observe 
 animals sometimes) ; and then think what a row any 
 other animal would make in a similar condition, and 
 how noisily he would remonstrate against the needless 
 brutality of his driver. His conduct and its results 
 form a notable instance of the folly of being silent 
 about our grievances. The busy world pays attention 
 only to those who loudly complain, and accords that 
 attention in exact proportion to the loudness and per- 
 sistency of the complaint. If there had been a Roche- 
 foucauld, or an Ellesmere, among the horses (for, 
 doubtless, like all other animals, they have a way of 
 
22 ANIMALS AND 
 
 communicating with one another), what judicious 
 maxims he might have instilled into them ! 
 
 There have been a few wise horses in the world. I 
 knew one myself of a sorrel colour. He did not kick, 
 or rear, or pursue any of those fantastic devices for 
 getting rid of his rider ; but when he objected to him, 
 he always rubbed him off against a wall or a cart-wheel. 
 No human being, who made himself objectionable to 
 this horse, was ever known to ' remain? You do not 
 understand the allusion. A Frenchman, who had 
 taken to riding in England, was asked how he suc- 
 ceeded in this mode of locomotion, so novel to him. 
 He replied — 
 
 ( When he go easy I am (fy suis) ; but when he 
 jomp hard, I do not remain.' 
 
 Now nobody could ' remain' upon the horse I have 
 been telling you about. But, alas ! a wise horse, like 
 a wise man, often keeps all his wisdom to himself; 
 and this wise sorrel (was not the wisest horse that 
 Gulliver met with in his sojourn with the Houy- 
 hnhnms a sorrel nag ?) did not impart his secret to his 
 brother bays or greys. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I say, Milverton, what about pets ? 
 
 Ellesmere. Yes, let us question and cross-question 
 him, and not allow him to keep exactly to systematic 
 discourse. That is the way in which truth is best 
 arrived at, 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 23 
 
 Milverton. It goes against the grain with me, to 
 speak against the keeping of pets ; and for this espe- 
 cial reason, that the young people who keep pets are 
 generally, in after life, those who are the best friends 
 to animals. But, if I must answer the question truth- 
 fully, I do think that there is a great deal of cruelty in 
 keeping pets — not so much directly as indirectly. 
 There are the cruel devices by which pets are caught 
 and tamed. Moreover, we make pets of creatures 
 which were never meant to be made pets of. I allude 
 particularly to the feathered creation. A miserable 
 creature, to my mind, is a caged bird. I do not know 
 that I ever saw a countenance more expressive of dig- 
 nified misery, and of its owner having known better 
 days, than that of an eagle which I once saw in a cage 
 about five eet square. Of course what I have just 
 said does not in the least apply to those creatures, 
 such as cats and dogs, which really appear to like the 
 society of men. 
 
 ILllesmere. I am always afraid lest dogs should 
 come to learn our language. If they ever do, they will 
 cut us entirely. Everything seems clever and un- 
 common-place in a language of which you know but 
 little ; and that is why we appear such clever and 
 interesting fellows to dogs. If they knew our lan- 
 guage well, would any dog sit out a public dinner ? 
 Would any dog remain in the nursery, listening to the 
 
24 ANIMALS AND 
 
 foolish talk of nurses and mothers ? I am not quite 
 sure whether our Fairy here would stay so resolutely 
 with us, if she understood all we said. 
 
 Sir Arthur, There is a fact which militates 
 against your theory, Ellesmere, and that is, that a 
 colley dog understands his master better than other 
 dogs understand their masters, and yet he is true to 
 him, and does not cut him. 
 
 Ellesmere. No ! it makes for me. The shep- 
 herd uses certain signs, and they are sensible signs. 
 They indicate certain judicious things to be done. 
 The dog approves of the proposed transactions, and 
 willingly takes his part in them. He gives his mas- 
 ter credit for judicious talk at home, which the 
 dog does not understand, but supposes to be equally 
 clever with that which takes place between himself 
 and his master on the hill-side. 
 
 Mauleverer. Going back for a moment to the pets 
 of which Milverton disapproves, I hope that he 
 includes gold-fish. When I see those wretched 
 creatures moving round and round about in a 
 glass bowl, I don't know how it is, but I always 
 think of the lives of official and ministerial people, 
 doing their routine work in a very confined space, 
 under very unpleasant and continuous observation, 
 never suffered to retire into private life amongst 
 comfortable weeds and stones and mud, but always 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 25 
 
 having the eyes of the public and the press upon 
 them. 
 
 Ellesmere. That is a very sound simile of Maule- 
 verer's, and it seems to me that I ought to have 
 seen the similitude before. I will treat you to another 
 simile of equal exactness. Whenever I see a fa- 
 vourite cat, with its so-called master or mistress, I 
 always feel that the cat considers the master or mis- 
 tress as a hired companion. The cat feels that it 
 has somebody to open the door for it, to find out the 
 sunniest window-sill for it, and in fact to perform a 
 thousand little offices belonging to the duties of hired 
 companionship, in return for which the cat purrs out 
 some wages, and is content always to be in a graceful 
 attitude, as an additional payment to the hired human 
 companion. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Don't calumniate cats, Ellesmere; I 
 once had a cat which — 
 
 Ellesmere. Forgive me for interrupting, but I must 
 tell you something which I may forget to tell you if 
 I do not say it now. The word ' calumniate ' puts me 
 in mind of it. It relates to calumny, or rather, per- 
 haps, to scandal. It will be worth the whole of the 
 rest of our conversation to-day. 
 
 Some girls were asked by one of our inspectors of 
 schools, at a school examination, whether they knew 
 what was the meaning of the word scandal. One 
 
26 ANIMALS AND 
 
 little girl stepped vigorously forward, and, throwing 
 her hand up in that semaphore fashion by which 
 children indicate the possession of knowledge, at- 
 tracted the notice of the inspector. He desired her 
 to answer the question ; upon which she uttered these 
 memorable words : ' Nobody does nothing, and every- 
 body goes on telling of it everywhere? 
 
 I once read an essay of Milverton's about calumny, 
 which has not been published, I believe; and it was 
 divided into sections and sub-sections, and was meant 
 to be very exhaustive. There was nothing in it, 
 however, equal to this child's saying, which in fact 
 reminds one of Bacon, Swift, and Macchiavelli all 
 compounded together. Listen to it again. ' Nobody 
 does nothing 9 (regard the force of that double nega- 
 tive), c and everybody goes on'' (note the continuity of 
 slander) l telling of it everywhere ' (no reticence, you 
 see, as regards time or place). I am sure that some 
 member of that child's family, father, or mother, or 
 sister, or brother, had been subject to village scandal, 
 and the child had thought over the matter deeply. I 
 have good authority for the story. It was told me 
 just before I came here by Sir George . 
 
 Mauleverer. Upon my word it is admirable. That 
 child and I should agree in our views of human 
 life. 
 
 Ellesmere. But what about your cat, Sir Arthur ? 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 27 
 
 Sir Arthur. Everything will sound so tame, 
 Ellesmere, after your story. It was merely that I 
 had a cat that would walk out with me like a dog, 
 and would sit for hours on my study-table, watching 
 me at work. 
 
 EUesmere. Yes ; it was one of those cases, not 
 uncommon, in which the master or the mistress 
 becomes very much attached to a loveable and 
 agreeable hired companion. I never said that cats 
 were devoid of affection, only that they thoroughly 
 understand their superiority to the human beings 
 whom they take into their employment. 
 
 No one, without experience of the difficulty, can 
 imagine how difficult it is to follow and report con- 
 versation ; and how it strays from one topic to an- 
 other, in the most eccentric fashion. After Sir John 
 Ellesmere had made the last remark, all the ' Friends 
 in Council ' seemed to be devoured by a desire to 
 tell remarkable anecdotes, quite within their own 
 observation, of wonderful cats, dogs, and horses, and 
 even of birds that they had known. Two or three 
 of them talked at the same time, chiefly addressing 
 their immediate neighbours ; and I failed to get at 
 any connected thread of conversation. I remember 
 that both Dickens and Lord Lytton were spoken 
 
28 ANIMALS AND 
 
 of, as having had great appreciation of the intelli- 
 gence of birds. Then the doings, which were al- 
 most incredible to me, of a certain dog were spoken 
 of. This dog had belonged to a young man, known 
 to most of the company present, who had, somehow 
 or other, gone very wrong lately, and had given his 
 parents a great deal of trouble. And then the whole 
 conversation was about him. Sir John Ellesmere 
 took his part ; and, speaking generally of families, 
 said that it was wonderful to him to see how well 
 they agreed together, considering the immense diffi- 
 culties of the position. My chief, who always 
 delights to hear anyone defended, and excuses made 
 for anybody, followed on the same side. I think I 
 can report the conversation from this stage accu- 
 rately : — 
 
 Ellesmere. Here are people shut up together in the 
 same house, having, probably, very different tastes 
 and very different ideas on all matters of human in- 
 terest, and being so familiar with one another that the 
 forms of politeness have been somewhat broken down ; 
 and you expect all these good people to get on well 
 together, merely because there is a close tie of relation- 
 ship between them. Why ! I do not find that a man 
 and his wife alwavs get on well together; and I am 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 29 
 
 told that here there is no duality, but absolute unity 
 of persons. 
 
 Milverton. There is one thing greatly in favour of 
 fathers and mothers. They at first seem to be hardly 
 treated by the laws of the universe. They have almost 
 always to restrain, and control, and give unwelcome ad- 
 vice ; and, in short, must, to a certain extent, make 
 themselves disagreeable, by the pressure on their own 
 minds from their own experience. There is foolish talk 
 in this day, as there has been in all time, about the 
 singular rebelliousness of young people. I have been 
 hunting through Pliny's Letters to find his views about 
 animals. I did not come to anything that Ellesmere 
 would call a ' good find ;' but I came upon a passage 
 relating to the conduct of young people in his day. 
 He is writing a letter about the great grief which he 
 has felt upon the death of a young man, named Junius 
 Avitus— who, according to Pliny, was a perfect young 
 man. But then Pliny goes on to show how different 
 Avitus was from other young men. Please give me 
 the book, Johnson. Here is the passage : — 
 
 Rarum hoc adolescentibus nostris. Nam qiwtus- 
 quisque vel cetati alterius, vel auctoritati, ut minor, 
 cedit f Statim sapiunt, statim sciunt oinnia : neminem 
 verentur, imiiantur neminem, atque ipsi sibi exempla 
 sunt. Sed non Avitus. 
 
 Of course this juvenile presumption is hard for parents 
 
30 ANIMALS AND 
 
 and seniors to bear ; and we must admit that their re- 
 action against it does tend to diminish love on the part 
 of the children. But there is, if I may so say, an after- 
 math of good harvest for the parents. As the sons and 
 daughters go on advancing in life, they are nearly sure 
 to recognize more and more the worth and affection of 
 their parents. Anybody who lives some time in the 
 world, and has opportunity of observing the develop- 
 ment of families, must be struck with this, if he is an 
 observant man at all. For instance ; you hear sons, 
 who, as you know, gave fathers much trouble at certain 
 periods of their lives, now speak of those fathers with 
 the tenderest affection. Indeed, I might almost venture 
 to say that every day that passes over a child's head, 
 whether son or daughter, makes him or her more ap- 
 preciative of the love of parents. The greatest 
 ' scamps,' as you call them, ultimately feel this — more, 
 perhaps, even than the good children ; and I doubt 
 not that this very boy we have been talking of, who is 
 at present a great trouble it must be owned, will here- 
 after speak of his father, to whom he has given all this 
 trouble, in the tenderest of terms. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere, It makes such a difference, having 
 children of one's own. I do not think it is any parti- 
 cular instance of one's former conduct that is wont to 
 occur to one's mind. The whole tone of mind be- 
 comes altered as regards the parental relationship. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 31 
 
 Cranmer. Oh, how true and how sad, Milverton, is 
 what you have just said ! I was, what I believe is 
 called, a good son. I never thwarted my father in any 
 serious matter ; but I once behaved very ill to him ; 
 and the recollection of this has come back to me a 
 hundred times. Though you may not think it, from 
 looking at me now, at the age of seventeen I was a 
 most delicate youth, and there were doubts whether I 
 was not consumptive. My mother died early, and my 
 father played, as far as a man could, the mother's part 
 to me. One of the things he ( led me a life about/ as 
 I then used to express it, was about warm clothing, 
 and I recollect on one particular occasion we had a 
 quarrel (I almost think it was the only one) about a 
 certain garment he wished me to wear, and which I 
 would not. You know how youths do not like to differ 
 from other youths, and are ashamed of being ( coddled/ 
 as they call it. The result was that I was very rude, 
 and resolutely disobedient. As I said before, this 
 little incident (no ; I cannot call it ' little ') has come 
 back a hundred times to my mind ; and, indeed, I 
 seldom look at my father's picture without thinking 
 how ill I behaved to the good man on that occasion. 
 If the opportunity would but come over again, what 
 amount of clothing would I not put on to please him 
 who has gone, and who probably cared for me more 
 than any other human being has since done ! 
 
„ 2 ANIMALS AND 
 
 Mr. Cranmer, whom we always look upon as 
 rather a hard man, at any rate as a very dry sort of 
 man, was visibly affected when he told us this little 
 anecdote. Some of us instantly made efforts to 
 turn the conversation into other channels. I be- 
 lieve the weather, that never-failing subject, came 
 in for its share of talk. Then the conversation 
 languished, the ladies made a move, and the main * 
 subject of the discourse was postponed to the after- 
 noon. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 33 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 It was not to be expected that our friends, most 
 of whom are connected in some way with poli- 
 tical life, should not at times talk politics. In 
 general, I have avoided giving any of these discus- 
 sions, which must of necessity be of an ephemeral 
 character. But, this morning political talk led to a 
 discussion which I thought worth recording. 
 
 Some public documents had been very severely 
 criticised by some of ' the Friends,' especially by Sir 
 John Ellesmere 3 when Mr. Milverton, taking up 
 the defence, said : — 
 
 Milverton. You all talk as if it were the easiest 
 thing possible to write clearly, and to say what one 
 really means to say ; whereas, it is one of the most 
 difficult things in the world. Now let me state the 
 difficulties. In the first place, to write clearly, you 
 must have clear ideas. In the second place, they 
 must be consistent ideas, In the third place, there 
 
 D 
 
34 ANIMALS AND 
 
 must be a logical sequence, and the several parts of 
 the arguments must not overlap one another. Then 
 you must know how to construct a sentence, which, to 
 quote a favourite expression of Goethe's, ' is not every- 
 body's affair.' Then there comes the difficulty of the 
 choice of words, greatly added to by the fact that the 
 words you choose must have the same signification in 
 the minds of the person or persons addressed as these 
 words have with you. 
 
 With regard to the choice of words, and its telling 
 effect, I should like to give you an example. Please, 
 Ellesmere, hand me down Barrow's Sermons. They 
 are close to you there. Now, listen to this extraordi- 
 nary passage, which is extraordinary, simply because 
 every word in it is well chosen. I defy you to find a 
 fault in it, as regards the choice of words. And note 
 how well it might be translated into any other lan- 
 guage :— - 
 
 We have but a very narrow strait of time to pass over, 
 but we shall land on the firm and vast continent of eternity ; 
 when we shall be free from all the troublesome agitations, 
 from all the perilous storms, from all the nauseous qualms of 
 this navigation ; death (which may be very near, which can- 
 not be far off) is a sure haven from all the tempests of life, a 
 safe refuge from all the persecution of the world, an infallible 
 medicine of all the diseases of our mind, and of our state : it 
 will enlarge us from all restraints, it will discharge all our 
 debts, it will ease us from all our toils, it will stifle all our 
 
THEIR MASTERS, 35 
 
 cares, it will veil all our disgraces, it will still all our com- 
 plaints, and bury all our disquiets ; it will wipe all tears * 
 from our eyes, and banish all sorrow from our hearts ; it 
 perfectly will level all conditions, setting the high and low, 
 the rich and poor, the wise and ignorant, all together upon 
 even ground ; smothering all the pomp and glories, swallow- 
 ing all the wealth and treasures of the world. * 
 
 Sir Arthur. It is, indeed, a transcendent passage. 
 
 Milverton. In addition to all the other requisites 
 J have named for good writing, there should, through- 
 out, be a divine accuracy. 
 
 Ellesmere, I have known many queer marriages 
 among my human friends and acquaintances, many as 
 queer between substantives and adjectives, especially 
 where substantives have been ill-mated with adjectives ; 
 but I have seldom known a noble adjective to be wed- 
 ded to so commonplace a mate as when ' divine ' is 
 applied to l accuracy.' 
 
 Milverton. I shall not withdraw the adjective. A 
 very large part of the evils of the world can be traced 
 up to inaccuracy. It is the chief source of misunder- 
 standing, misrepresentation, and of most of those dire- 
 ful words which begin with that unhappy prefix, 
 1 mis.' 
 
 Cranmer. I never heard the difficulties of writing 
 so fearfully set forth. 
 
 * Barrow's Sermons. 
 
 D 2 
 
36 ANIMALS AND 
 
 Milverton. I must proceed further. I must add, 
 that most public documents are not the outcome of 
 one man's mind, but are the result of much conjoint 
 writing and intermeddling. I will also say, that ours 
 is a most difficult language wherein to write accurately. 
 Again (I do not know when I shall have done with my 
 additions) : you must consider that the writing of these 
 State papers is a very different thing from ordinary 
 literary work. 
 
 Sir Arthur, I understand what you mean. I have 
 been reading a great deal of Schiller lately ; and I 
 have found only one or two passages which I cannot 
 understand. 
 
 Milverton. Wherever there is passionate or emo- 
 tional writing, the passion or emotion explains so 
 much, and you have, comparatively, little difficulty. 
 
 Sir Arthur. That is just what I was going to say. 
 When I take up a German newspaper I am consider- 
 ably puzzled. 
 
 Ellesmere. Yes ; and, perhaps, it would be worse 
 if you took up a German State paper. 
 
 Milverton. The great difficulty is to write well 
 about matters connected with real life where precision 
 of terms is absolutely necessary. 
 
 Please do not think it pedantic on my part, it I ven- 
 ture to lay down what should be the conclusions de- 
 rived from our talk on this subject. They are three. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 37 
 
 1st. We should cultivate, with care, the art of ex- 
 pressing what we may have to say in writing. And 
 this should be done early. The writing of themes is, 
 in my mind, one of the most absurd employments in 
 the world. You ask boys to evolve ideas from their 
 own consciousness, upon subjects of which they know 
 nothing. You might teach the power of expression in 
 quite another way ; and in a secure way. Relate 
 facts to them, and make them restate those facts. Give 
 them a portion of history to read, and direct them to 
 make a summary of it. In short, exercise their 
 powers of expression, if you like, to any extent ; but do 
 not ask them for ideas. 
 
 2nd. Now I come to the work of the grown-up man. 
 Whenever there is work to be done which requires 
 conjoint counsel, and is to be the result of much clash- 
 ing of opinion, let one man be entrusted with the 
 drawing-up of the ultimate document, which is to be 
 put forward to the world, and to be commented on 
 by it. 
 
 Partnership is a good thing in its way, and is 
 available for many affairs, but not for writing. 
 
 3rd. Make much of the man who, whether by natural 
 gifts, or, as it is more probable, by careful study, has 
 attained this rare faculty of expressing precisely what 
 he means to say, or what others wish him to say. 
 That man is worth a great deal of money, whether he 
 
38 ANIMALS AND 
 
 is to be found in a Government department or a mer- 
 chant's office. He it is who should write the letters, 
 though he may not be a man capable of forming the 
 most judicious opinions on the questions at issue. 
 
 Ellesnicre. In order that he may not be overworked, 
 and that all the fine qualities of this admirable man 
 may not be blunted by over-use, let us diminish the 
 frequency of the arrival of the post. I have just found 
 the most lovely passage in an old novel — not so very 
 old, though — published thirty-five or forty years ago. 
 
 Cranmer. I thought that when last we separated, 
 it was agreed that at our next meeting we were to con- 
 tinue to discuss the subject of the treatment of animals. 
 
 Ellesmere. Oh, yes ; but what is the good of hav- 
 ing a set subject for discussion if one may not have 
 the pleasure of breaking away from it sometimes ? 
 Besides, whatever irrelevancy I may commit, Mil- 
 verton is sure to be able to show that it bears closely 
 upon the subject in hand. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Give us the i lovely passage ' at once. 
 
 Ellesmere. It was something of this sort : 6 She 
 looked wistfully at the mantelpiece, and sighed 
 when she saw that there was no letter for her, for 
 she knew that the half-weekly post had come in. ? I 
 laid down the book, and sighed too, thinking of the 
 happy days when, at some favoured places in Eng- 
 land, there was only a half-weekly post. 
 
THEIR MASTERS, 39 
 
 Mauleverer. Some foolish people are always 
 fancying that they should like to have lived in some 
 age previous to their own, or wishing that they had 
 not been born just yet, and that their time was to 
 come in some subsequent age. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere, I suppose I am one of those 
 i foolish persons. 7 I do not agree with my husband in 
 his horror at receiving letters, which, as you know, is 
 a grievance he is never tired of mourning over ; but 
 I often fancy how delightful life must have been in 
 quieter times, when everybody was not in such a 
 hurry ; when short intervals of distance produced 
 great changes of scene ; when small things which 
 happened to one were events, and were well talked 
 over and thought over. Now, nothing makes much 
 impression on our — 
 
 Ellesmere. Say, kaleidoscopic minds. You just 
 give a shake of the tube, and there is another set of 
 patterns. I don't object to this. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. But surely, John, you would 
 like to have lived in a time when the world was less 
 built over. I often subtract, in my mind's eye, all 
 the new houses at some beautiful spot, and see what 
 it must have been in former days, and then imagine 
 the douce, pleasant life which the few dwellers in 
 that beautiful place must have led. 
 
 Mauleverer. An utter delusion. Remember how 
 
40 ANIMALS AND 
 
 strong must have been the hatreds and the dislikes 
 when people lived together in very small communities, 
 and when there was next to no movement from the 
 localities in which they dwelt. 
 
 Sir Arthur. As for Ellesmere, his life might 
 have been a douce one (to adopt Lady Ellesmere's 
 word), but it would have been a very short one in 
 most of the previous ages of the world. There is 
 no man of my acquaintance who would have been 
 more certain to have been burnt for heresy, or hanged 
 for treason, than Ellesmere. Is it possible to con- 
 ceive that he would have been able to restrain him- 
 self from taking objections to the dominant views of 
 religion and politics, whatever they might have been ? 
 and taking objections would have been torture or 
 death, most probably the latter. This thought re- 
 conciles me to a post coming in six times in the day, 
 and to the way in which (for I agree with Lady Elles- 
 mere) most of the beautiful spots of the earth have 
 been deformed by modern houses. 
 
 Milverton. These preliminary remarks naturally 
 lead up to my subject. 
 
 Ellesmere. I told you so. Nothing can keep his 
 subject down. 
 
 Milverton. I spoke the other day of a new set of 
 sufferings endured by animals in consequence of new 
 modes of locomotion being invented ; but, on the 
 
THEIR MASTERS, 41 
 
 other hand, it must be admitted that a whole series of 
 atrocities in reference to animals has entirely passed 
 away. I allude to the cruel way in which they were 
 tortured and slain for medicinal remedies. You can 
 hardly take up any old work upon medicinal recipes 
 without coming immediately upon some ridiculous 
 mode of cure, in which some inhumanity is to be 
 practised upon an animal to satisfy the superstitious 
 notions of the age. We have in the house a Welsh 
 work, named ' Meddygon Myddfai.' It is full of these 
 horrors. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Yes ; I have heard of the work. It 
 is supposed to date from the time of the Druids. 
 
 Milverton. True ; but do you doubt that it was 
 believed in until quite modern times ? and even 
 now there are country districts where these atro- 
 cious remedies are entirely believed in as articles of 
 faith. 
 
 Mauleverer. I am sorry to be obliged to check 
 any joyfulness at some particular barbarity having 
 dropped out of fashion ; for, my good friends, I must 
 remind you of the fact that another has entered. 
 What was done by superstition is now done by 
 science. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I deny that the cruelties inflicted by 
 science upon animals, are equal in number and 
 extent to those that were inflicted by superstition ; 
 
42 ANIMALS AND 
 
 and then, look at the purpose — recollect that in some 
 cases it is to master the diseases of animals that 
 animals are subjected to scientific investigation. 
 
 Milverton, Scientific investigation ! It is very 
 unlike you, Sir Arthur, to use fine words for the 
 barbarities that go on under the pretentious name of 
 scientific investigation. 
 
 This was one of the branches of the subject that I 
 was most anxious to discuss with you. I do not wish 
 to carry my arguments to any extreme ; but I declare 
 that I believe a vast amount of needless cruelty is 
 inflicted upon animals under the pretext of scien- 
 tific investigation. I vow that I think it is a crime 
 to make experiments upon animals for the sake of 
 illustrating some scientific fact that has already been 
 well ascertained. You might as well say that it is 
 desirable to put wretched dogs into the Grotto del 
 Cane for the purpose of proving that the air in that 
 grotto is mephitic. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. Surely everybody must agree with 
 Leonard in that proposition. 
 
 Mrs. Milverton. Certainly. 
 
 Ellesmere. Well, I do not deny it ; I think he is 
 right. 
 
 Mauleverer. I go further : I don't believe that a 
 single valuable fact has been discovered by any of 
 the tortures which have been inflicted upon animals. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 43 
 
 Sir Arthur. I am not prepared to go that 
 length with you. I have a perfect horror of vivi- 
 section ; the very word makes my flesh creep. But 
 we shall not carry our point (for I take it we are all 
 agreed upon the point) by suffering any exaggeration 
 to enter into our statements. 
 
 Ellesmere. What do you propose, Milverton ? I 
 mean, what do you propose by way of remedy for 
 this evil ? 
 
 Milverton. I have very little to propose in the 
 way of direct remedy. There have been horrors in 
 the way of vivisection— especially those perpetrated 
 in France and Germany — against which I think direct 
 legislation might be claimed. But it is very little 
 that direct legislation can do in this matter. We can 
 only rely upon the force of enlightened public opinion. 
 I think women could do a great deal in this matter, 
 as indeed they can in most social affairs. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. It would be quite enough reason 
 for refusing to marry any man, if one knew that he 
 practised any needless cruelties upon animals, whether 
 called by any scientific name or not.* My husband 
 may ill-treat me, as you see he does, generally 
 pointing out the foolishness of any remark that I may 
 make ; but if he ill-treated animals, I do not think I 
 could endure him./ 
 
 Maitleverer. After all, then, we are driven to the 
 
44 ANIMALS AND 
 
 surgeon's wives, or sweethearts, for some remedy in 
 this affair. 
 
 Milverton, Not altogether. If public opinion 
 were strong in the direction in which we wish it to 
 prevail, no government, no public body could have 
 these cruel and wicked experiments carried on under 
 its sanction. I have looked into the subject carefully, 
 and I have come to the conclusion that the action 
 of this opinion upon public bodies would stop many 
 of the horrors we now complain of. I cannot say any 
 more about this branch of the subject. It is so re- 
 pulsive. 
 
 I now descend into a very commonplace matter 
 relating to beasts of burden. I think that a great 
 deal might be done to alleviate the sufferings of 
 animals, by reasonable and judicious supervision 
 and inspection. Of course I know what will be 
 said directly, in opposition to this proposal, that it 
 is contrary to the laws of political economy. But, 
 previously to going into detail, I want to ask you all 
 a great question which presses upon my mind. It 
 is this : Has not every living creature its rights ? I 
 suppose that this proposition may seem somewhat 
 fanciful when applied to animals ; but I distinctly hold 
 that every living creature has its rights, and that 
 justice, in the highest form, may be applied to it. I 
 say that a lame horse has a right to claim that it 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 45 
 
 shall not be worked ; and just as I would protect one 
 man from being ill-treated by another, so, to use the 
 principle in its widest form, I would protect anyone 
 animal from being ill-treated by any other. 
 
 Cramner. I know that I am always in Milverton's 
 thoughts whenever he makes a dead set against 
 political economy and economists. I do not see 
 much use in his dogma that — 
 
 Sir Arthur. I do. 
 
 Cranmer. — every animal has its rights; but I 
 have no objection to admit it. What then ? What 
 practical result do you aim at, Milverton ? 
 
 Milverton. Well, I say that if only several prac- 
 tical men cared for this subject — namely, the good 
 treatment of animals — as much as we who are sit- 
 ting in this room do, an effective system of inspection 
 and supervision might be devised for draught-horses 
 employed in any great town — say, for instance, in 
 London. 
 
 The mischief in this world is, that statesmen and 
 men of business have for many years been greatly 
 employed in arranging where power should be placed, 
 and not how it should be used ; and so poor men and 
 poor animals have often had a sair time of it. 
 
 I maintain that, with the assistance of my friend 
 Cranmer, I could give the heads ol a Bill for the 
 inspection of draught animals in this metropolis, 
 
46 ANIMALS AND 
 
 which would prevent an immense deal of the cruelty 
 now exercised upon them. Once direct the atten- 
 tion of men to this subject (and man is a most in- 
 genious animal), you would be surprised to see what 
 good results might be effected. 
 
 But now I am going to propose quite a minor 
 matter — a thing at which I dare say you will laugh, 
 but which, I believe, will have a great effect in re- 
 lieving part of the misery suffered by draught-horses 
 in our metropolis — I allude to cab-horses. 
 
 Eilesmere. Stop, stop : I cannot allow this dis- 
 cussion to go on at such a pace. I must go back to 
 the legal part of the question. Every animal has its 
 rights, according to Milverton. Why stop there? 
 Every reptile then : every insect ? Do you admit 
 that, you Brahminical personage ? 
 
 Milverton. Certainly. You may make me ridi- 
 culous, or, at least, try to do so ; but you shall not 
 make me inconsistent. Look there : you see, at this 
 moment, in front of the open window, a number of 
 flying creatures. 
 
 Eilesmere. Why not say flies at once ? 
 
 Milverton. Because I wanted to state the matter 
 in the most abstract fashion. You see, I say, a num- 
 ber of flying creatures, whirling about in a mazy 
 dance, and, as far as we can judge, enjoying them- 
 selves very much, and doing us no harm. They are 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 47 
 
 not even touching any of that e property' which the 
 lawyers love so well. If you were to kill any of them 
 at this moment, I think it would not merely be a 
 cruelty, but an invasion of right — an illegal trans- 
 action. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I think Milverton is justified in this 
 assertion. You have no right to attack those crea- 
 tures. Have you ever observed, by the way, how fond 
 children are of that word ? e You have no right to do 
 it.' ' He had no right to hit me/ and so on. 
 
 Ellesmere. ' Hail, horrors, hail V Do you see that 
 cloud, not of insects, but of morning visitors coming 
 up the avenue ? — and they have seen us too. Have 
 we a right, we men, to slip off, and leave the ladies to 
 receive them ? Right or not, I vanish. 
 
 So Sir John rushed off, while the rest of us, 
 having some sense of politeness, stayed ; and so 
 the conversation upon the animal question was 
 for a time broken off. 
 
48 ANIMALS AND 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The conversation this afternoon commenced 
 abruptly as follows : — 
 
 Mauleverer. We have been talking a great deal 
 lately about the animal creation. I have been think- 
 ing how much misery there is among the lower 
 animals arising from fear. 
 
 Ellesmere. Nonsense ! You are not going to per- 
 suade me of that. 
 
 Mauleverer. It is true though. I am convinced 
 that they suffer greatly from fear, or rather apprehen- 
 sion ; and that is what we human beings suffer most 
 from. 
 
 Sir Arthur. We know very little about their joys, 
 their sorrows, or their sufferings. I am inclined to 
 think that there is a large balance of happiness in their 
 favour. I should have taken just an opposite view to 
 Mauleverer's. I admit that they suffer from fear, but 
 very little from apprehension. What men suffer most 
 from is not fear, but care. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 
 
 Heard not by the outward ear, 
 In the heart I am a Fear, 
 And from me is no escape. 
 Every hour I change my shape, 
 Roam the highway, ride the billow, 
 Hover round the anxious pillow. 
 Ever found, and never sought, 
 Flattered, cursed. Oh ! know you not 
 Care ? Know you not anxiety ? * 
 
 Elles7iiere. I suppose everybody has thought at 
 some time or other what creature he should like to be, 
 if the Pythagorean system were true, and we were to 
 reappear— at least, some of us — in some lower form of 
 Being. I wonder what Cranmer would like to be. I 
 don't wish to suggest anything for any other gentle- 
 man ; but it occurs to me that Cranmer would rather 
 shine as a tortoise. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I have long ago made up my mind 
 upon the point. I would be a bird ; and, I think, of 
 all birds, the swallow — a travelled creature, who, like 
 Ulysses, had seen many races of men and many 
 cities. 
 
 Ellesmere. Milverton would be a bird too — the 
 meditative stork. I knew a stork just like Milverton ; 
 I used to watch it from the windows of my inn at a 
 little place — I forget the name — on a river that runs into 
 
 * Second part of Faust. Anster's translation. 
 
 E 
 
50 ANIMALS AND 
 
 the Rhine. It would remain for hours perched on a 
 rock, standing on one leg and pretending to look for 
 fish ; but, in reality, thinking of the queer ways of 
 men, and inventing aphorisms. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. You have not asked us what 
 we should like to be. 
 
 Ellesmere, Oh ! you will have gone through the 
 worst form of animal life — at any rate, that which is 
 most noxious to man. But if there is any other form 
 to be gone through by you, you will, of course, be 
 butterflies ; and how you will look at each other's fine 
 dresses, and say of the empress butterfly, c I wonder 
 how her husband can afford to let her dress in that 
 expensive way — in all the colours of the rainbow, 
 too ! ' 
 
 Milverton. That makes me think of an anecdote of 
 Thackeray. He was going down the Strand with a 
 friend of mine, and they stopped to look at an oyster- 
 shop. There was a tub of oysters at a shilling a dozen 
 (those were halcyon days for oyster-eaters) : there was 
 also a tub of oysters at tenpence the dozen. ' How 
 these must hate those ! ' exclaimed Thackeray, point- 
 ing first to the tenpenny, and then to the shilling 
 oysters. There you have a most characteristic speech 
 of that great satirist. 
 
 Elles?nere. I have been thinking over the question, 
 and I have made up my mind what I would be< I 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 51 
 
 think I once told you before. I would certainly be a 
 
 fish. 
 
 The fish he leads a merry life, 
 
 He drinks when he likes, and he has no wife. 
 
 That is my own poetry ; at least, I believe so. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I think Ellesmere is wrong in his 
 natural history. 
 
 Ellesmere. Well, the fish has no wife like the 
 lion, the tiger, or the fox. I should not like to 
 be a lion, and have to come home, after a hard 
 day's hunting, to the lioness and my cubs, with- 
 out any prey in my paws. My mane would be 
 pulled in a manner that would not be at all caressing. 
 No. I am quite resolved, that if I am to have any 
 choice, I will undoubtedly be a fish. Wait though ! I 
 pause to hear what Mauleverer will say; because I 
 will not enter willingly into any form of animal life, if 
 he is to take the same form. He would make all the 
 other fishes so melancholy, that they would turn up 
 their sides, and show the whites of their eyes, and not 
 endeavour to catch any more flies, for he would prove 
 to them that about once in a million times it would be 
 an artificial, and not a real fly. Let us enjoy life in 
 the best way we can ; whether we are birds, beasts, 
 men, or fishes, and eschew all those people who delight 
 in melancholy talk, write melancholy novels, that 
 have bad endings, or play melancholy music which I 
 
 E 2 
 
52 ANIMALS AND 
 
 cannot abide. Dismal people are the only people 
 to be sedulously avoided, unless, of course, as in 
 Mauleverer's case, they have transcendent notions 
 of cookery. 
 
 Milverton. The whole of your conversation re- 
 minds me — 
 
 Ellesmere. The three most fatal words in the 
 English language are, ' That reminds me.' You feel 
 certain that a long story, or a terrible disquisition is 
 coming upon you. 
 
 Cranmer. I must interrupt. I am not going to be 
 a tortoise, though I admit it is one of the most judi- 
 cious creatures in creation. I should like to be a 
 beaver. If there is any truth in the theories that 
 Mauleverer is always dinning into our ears (forgive the 
 unparliamentary expression, Mauleverer), about the 
 misery of all creatures endowed with life, that misery 
 may best be met with and conquered by continuous 
 w r ork. Now, I take it the beaver is the most laborious 
 creature of whose habits we know anything. He is 
 never satisfied with his work. I wonder that he is 
 not a chosen pet of mankind, for people who have 
 watched him tell me that he is a very good-natured 
 animal, and a most amusing one. After building a 
 dam, which he will do in a room, for he always sup- 
 poses that he is to be victimised by a sudden influx 
 of water, he will contemplate the building in the most 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 53 
 
 knowing manner, strengthen the weaker parts, or pull 
 it all down together and reconstruct from the founda- 
 tion — in fact, he is a ceaseless worker, and a most 
 severe critic of his own work. This must recommend 
 him to your favourable notice, Milverton. 
 
 Ellesmere. I won't be a beaver if I can help it. 
 One of the errors of this age is, a deification of work 
 for the mere sake of working. I hate fussiness. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. The most fussy man alive ! 
 
 Ellesmere. The really good man, and the man of 
 beautiful nature, like the good fish, can be idle and 
 innocent too. Show me the man who employs his 
 leisure well, and I will tell you who will go to heaven. 
 
 Milverton. Well, now I suppose that you have all 
 said your preliminary say. I shall take full advan- 
 tage, hereafter, in commenting on what you have said, 
 every word of which bears upon my subject. But, to 
 begin at the beginning, Mauleverer spoke of the fear 
 suffered by all animals. By the way, adopting the 
 plan used in Acts of Parliament, of defining certain 
 words to have extensive meanings, when I use the 
 word ' animals' I mean all living creatures except 
 men and women. Now, touching this fear, I main- 
 tain that animals are more fearless than man. There 
 are several domestic animals of my acquaintance, 
 which, having learnt the thorough friendliness of the 
 men, women, and children with whom they live, are 
 
54 ANIMALS AND 
 
 most remarkably fearless. Seize hold of them sud- 
 denly ; threaten them as much as you like ; they have 
 that perfect confidence in your good intentions that 
 they will bear the threatening gestures with an 
 equanimity and absence of nervousness which are un- 
 known in man. I mention this fact with a view to 
 show how much we might increase the happiness of 
 these animals with which we live, if we were uni- 
 formly kind to them. I refer you for proof of this 
 to the happy families of animals that lived with 
 Waterton. 
 
 Ellesmere. All animals I have known intimately 
 have had a great appreciation of fun ; and that is why 
 I like the animal creation so much. If I were to pre- 
 tend to throw Fairy into the water, a proceeding 
 which she knows that I know she dislikes, she would 
 perfectly understand that this was a mere demonstra- 
 tion, similar to that of an independent member asking 
 a question of a minister in the House, the whole affair 
 having been arranged an hour or two before at the 
 minister's official residence in Downing Street, and 
 Fairy would thoroughly enter into the joke. 
 
 I can hardly tell you how much I see in this. It 
 impresses me more than hundreds of those stories 
 showing the sagacity of animals which are current in 
 the world. 
 
 Milverton has been wonderfully merciful to us, in 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 55 
 
 not giving us hosts of these stories. There was one, 
 however, he used to tell (for we have had much of this 
 animal talk before, though not in the same company) 
 which became a favourite with me. It was from some 
 old writer — Barlasus I think was his name — that the 
 story came. There was a fox which had been the 
 death of many a pack of hounds. He managed it in 
 this way. He got them to follow him in full cry to- 
 wards a ravine : over it he went at full speed : the 
 dogs followed him, and were dashed to pieces. But 
 the fox by no means descended to the bottom of the 
 ravine. He contrived to jump into a bit of brush- 
 wood that hung a little way down the precipice. 
 Thence he had some sort of pathway which he could 
 climb up and regain his lair. Doubtless the creature 
 had found out this device by accident. The first time 
 he had probably gone over the precipice unwittingly ; 
 had been caught by the brushwood ; and had detected 
 this to be the mode of getting rid, in the most com- 
 plete and summary fashion, of tiresome packs of 
 brutes that were wont to worry him. 
 
 What a difference there is between this trick and an 
 animal's showing that appreciation of character and 
 conduct which is to be seen in Fairy's understanding 
 that any threats of mine are mere brut a fulmina, and, 
 in short, a bad style of joke. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I can confirm what Ellesmere says, 
 
56 ANIMALS AND 
 
 and can give another remarkable instance. I know a 
 dog who, without flinching (by the way I object to a 
 neuter relative pronoun being applied to an animal, 
 and I advisedly say ' who ' instead of * which ') — I say 
 I know a dog who will not flinch, or even wink, when 
 his master, or his master's friends, aim a violent blow 
 at him which will come close to his head ; but which 
 of course is never meant to hit him, and never does 
 hit him. Still his confidence is something amazing, 
 and he evidently enjoys the transaction exceedingly. 
 It is a joke in which you can see he thoroughly par- 
 takes. His master is one who is exceedingly tender 
 towards animals, and the dog knows that he would 
 not hurt him for the world. And thus the animal 
 appreciates that this is a great amusement to the 
 company. Now observe, there would be compara- 
 tively little in this transaction, if his master were a 
 showman. We know by what devices, connected 
 with reward and punishment, tricks of this kind may 
 be taught ; but no reward follows this exhibition. The 
 dog is perhaps sitting up at the tea-table with the 
 children, when a violent blow of the kind I have 
 described is aimed at him ; but he at once enters 
 into the fun of the thing. I really do not think 
 that Ellesmere presses his instance too far when he 
 makes it significant of an appreciation on the animal's 
 part of the character and habitual conduct of his master. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 57 
 
 Mrs. Milverton. All that you have just said bears 
 out what Leonard began by maintaining, that the ani- 
 mals with whom we are obliged to live might be made 
 infinitely more comfortable by the removal of fear, and 
 that this is an end which can be easily attained. 
 
 Milverton. We begin to teach by blows, which are 
 things very difficult to understand ; and then we 
 wonder that we have no hold upon the regard of the 
 animal, and, in fact, that we cannot manage it Now, 
 many animals, I should say most animals, have a 
 Macaulay-like memory, and certainly never forget 
 early ill-treatment. 
 
 What I desire most in our conduct to animals, is 
 some little use of the imaginative faculty. An imagi- 
 native person cannot well be cruel. 
 
 Ellesmere. Oh ! Oh ! Your friend, Cortes, for in- 
 stance — a poet, a scholar, undoubtedly a man of pow- 
 erful imagination — yet how he treats the natives ! just 
 as brutal men among us treat animals. J 
 
 Milverton. You are wrong, though perhaps my 
 dictum may require some modification. The imagina- 
 tion of Cortes made him fully aware of the sufferings 
 he was inflicting. That same power of imagination 
 led him to believe that he was doing great things for 
 civilization, and especially for true religion, in the cru- 
 elties he was obliged, as he thought, to commit. This 
 would not apply to animals. I have no doubt that 
 
58 ANIMALS AND 
 
 Cartes was very kind to them. We have not those 
 after-thoughts about them that we have about our 
 fellow-men — those after-thoughts which have made 
 men severe to their fellows, sincerely believing, in 
 many instances, that they were ensuring some great 
 and final good to those whom they persecuted re- 
 morselessly. 
 
 I maintain that my dictum is substantially right, 
 that you have only, by the aid of imagination, to enter 
 fully into what we may reasonably conceive to be the 
 feelings of animals, to be most tender and kind towards 
 them. Even such talk as we have just had, which 
 might not appear at first to bear upon the subject, is 
 most useful. Only think of the ways, habits, and pecu- 
 liarities of any creature, and you become tolerant 
 towards it. I will exemplify what I mean. The horse 
 is a most timid and nervous animal. By the way, I 
 observed that not one of you was inclined, in your 
 imaginary choice of animal life, to become a horse or 
 any animal that has much to do with man. Well, the 
 horse, as I said, is a most timid and nervous animal. 
 The moment you have recognized this fact, you are 
 able, by the aid of imagination, to enter, as it were, 
 into its terrors, and you do not beat a creature merely 
 because it is afraid. 
 
 * 
 
 Cranmer. I come to what I always believe in as the 
 main specific for all evils, namely, education. Milver- 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 59 
 
 ton talks of imagination and makes too much of that, 
 I think. Imagination must have a basis of facts to 
 build upon. Now it is a fact, I believe, as Milverton 
 states, that the horse is a peculiarly nervous and timid 
 animal. It sees a large piece of paper, or an empty 
 sack, or an ungainly-looking shadow in the road, and 
 it takes it to be some dangerous living creature. That 
 ought to be told to people from the first, especially to 
 children. I have never written a book, but it really 
 seems to me that I could write a book, if I possessed 
 the requisite knowledge — 
 
 Ellesmere. Well, most of us could do that. 
 
 Cranmer. — if I possessed the requisite know- 
 ledge, I say. It would be most serviceable in schools, 
 and, indeed, should be a class-book in all schools. I 
 have never read a child's book upon animals which 
 has satisfied me as regards the points I should endea- 
 vour to inculcate. 
 
 Ellesmere. Upon my word, Cranmer is coming out 
 in a new character. I do not like, however, to hear 
 any man indulge in threats of a painful kind, and 
 I look upon this as a threat, on Cranmer's part, that 
 he will write a book. 
 
 Sir Arthur, The words of Cranmer are the words 
 of wisdom, of beaver-like sagacity. I almost think 
 that I will offer to join with Cranmer in writing such a 
 book, only the worst of it is, one is so deficient in 
 
60 ANIMALS AND 
 
 facts. One would have to sit under some eminent 
 naturalist for two years. But, most seriously speaking, 
 it might be the just pride of one's life to have written 
 such a book. Going back to my early childhood, I 
 distinctly remember how thoroughly ignorant I was 
 of the very fact Milverton first brought before us, 
 and that I thought my first pony was to be cured of 
 shying by adopting the most severe measures, to force 
 it up to the apparently dangerous object. I am now, 
 I hope, a little wiser as regards the management both 
 of men and horses in this respect ; but really I do not 
 see why I should not have been taught this wisdom at 
 a much earlier period. 
 
 Milverto7i. Cranmer is as right as possible ; and I 
 accept, with due humility, his correction when he said 
 that imagination must have a basis of facts to build 
 upon. 
 
 Ellesmere. There was some practical thing, some 
 plan, which Milverton alluded to in a former con- 
 versation. It had relation to horses. He was going 
 to tell us about it when visitors swarmed in the other 
 day. 
 
 Milverton. You will only laugh at it, I dare say ; 
 but I don't mind telling it you. 
 
 One of the great evils in the treatment of animals is, 
 that they are necessarily entrusted to hirelings. Now, 
 the owner of an animal might, in nineteen cases ouv 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 61 
 
 of twenty, be trusted to exercise what I may call super- 
 ficial kindness towards it. At any rate, he would avoid 
 intentional unkindness. How he generally errs, as I 
 have shown before, is from the want of sufficient 
 knowledge, just as we err in the sanitary management 
 of our houses and our families, simply from ignorance 
 of what it much concerns us to know. 
 
 To lessen this superficial ill-treatment, which per- 
 haps had better be called visible cruelty, would be a 
 considerable gain ; and it is only to be acquired by 
 the owner having some means of ascertaining how his 
 animal is treated by his hireling. I would have some 
 method by which (in the case, for example, of cab- 
 driving) there should be a way of communication 
 open between the passenger and the owner. I have 
 often longed to tell the owner how unworthily his 
 agent acts for him. In ever) hired carriage I would 
 have the means of doing that. A small locked box, in 
 which one could deposit one's complaint, and of which 
 the master alone had the key, would enable one to 
 do so. 
 
 I see at once the objections which some of you will 
 make, namely, that complaints would be made from 
 ill-nature or from frivolousness. I don't believe it. 
 The people who ride in hired carriages have too much 
 to do, and are too intent upon their work, to be over- 
 busy in the cause of humanity to animals ; but, occa- 
 
62 ANIMALS AND 
 
 sionally, this device might be of great service ; and it 
 would be a constant check upon the inhumanity of the 
 driver, if he were an inhuman man. Moreover, it 
 would often touch the owner himself, and be an excuse 
 and an aid to the driver, as when, for instance, an 
 owner sends out an animal which is imperfectly re- 
 covered from lameness, or has been badly shod. How- 
 ever, to state the question broadly, to assure the good 
 treatment of animals used in hired carriages, it is most 
 desirable to aim at having some mode of communica- 
 tion with the owner. If this idea is once put before 
 the minds of men strongly, they will find other ways 
 of effecting the purpose besides my way of the little 
 locked box. 
 
 Cranmer. I, for one, do not think this suggestion 
 at all a small one ; and it seems to me very practical 
 and very practicable. 
 
 Ellesmere. It is not bad ; but Milverton exaggerates 
 when he says that nineteen out of twenty owners are 
 considerate and humane to their animals, as far as 
 intention goes. 
 
 Now I will tell you what is a horror to me, and 
 where I strongly suspect the guilt is upon the owner, 
 and not upon any hireling. You often see a wretched 
 little animal driven at a tremendous pace, with a 
 fearful load behind it of men, women, and children, 
 pleasure-taking, as I suppose. Now, here, I have 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 63 
 
 scarcely a doubt, the owner is the driver. I am sure 
 I don't grudge these people their pleasure; but I 
 lament for the poor animal its want of rest, for you 
 often see that the ' light cart ' (light no longer) is one 
 that is probably used for business purposes throughout 
 the week. Now, I am only a Sabbatarian as regards 
 animals. I want the Sunday to be not only the most 
 holy, but the happiest day for all of us. But, as regards 
 rest, animals should be considered first.: 
 
 We have now dealt handsomely with a practical 
 suggestion. Cranmer approves ; so do I ; and the others 
 show their consent by a judicious silence. 
 
 Let us go into theory a little. There are some fellows 
 amongst us who read books — a weak employment of 
 the human mind, but still a not unfrequent one. Sir 
 Arthur and Milverton are gobblers of books. Cranmer 
 reads books of a cerulean colour to any extent. What 
 do the learned say about the intellect of animals ? I 
 have always detested Descartes; and my detestation 
 of him has always been more hearty and complete, 
 by reason of my knowing nothing of his works from 
 personal inspection. But I have been told that he 
 maintained that animals had no feeling. I do not like 
 to make any violent assertion anent the sayings of 
 philosophers ; but I think that this is about the most 
 absurd one I ever heard of. I know that we can only 
 detect the noumenon from the phenomenati (you see I 
 
64 ANIMALS AND 
 
 know their terms) ; but having observed that the pinch 
 which gives me pain and makes me cry out, or be dis- 
 posed to cry out, produces a similar effect upon 
 the lower animal, I, for my part, require no 
 more proof. But is it true, Sir Arthur, that Descartes 
 asserts this proposition ? I should be sorry to 
 dismiss any comfortable detestation from my mind ; 
 but justice, of which virtue I am an honourable 
 minister, will compel me to do so, if the accusation is 
 false. 
 
 Sir Arthur. It is true. One of his main argu- 
 ments is, that animals always do things in the same 
 manner without having learnt how to do them, and 
 that it would be possible to construct a machine which 
 would have the power of moving about, and of uttering 
 sounds similar to that of an animal. 
 
 Mauleverer. I am sorry to hear that the good man 
 talked such nonsense. Before this time I only knew 
 one thing about him ; but that had given me a very 
 high opinion of him. I knew that he had taken for 
 his motto ' Qui bene latuit bene vixit' 
 
 Milverton. Your question, Ellesmere, was about 
 the intellect of animals. I do not know any saying 
 about them which has come home to me more than 
 that of Anaxagoras. I have only learnt of Anaxagoras 
 through Goethe. This is what Goethe says : 'Anaxa- 
 goras teaches that all animals have active Reason, but 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 65 
 
 not passive Reason, which, as it were, is the interpreter 
 of the understanding.' * 
 
 I don't pretend to understand the last few words ; 
 but, as I said before, that saying comes home to my 
 mind with much force. And, if true, it affords a 
 beautiful illustration of the prudence and sparingness 
 of what we call Nature, but which I would rather 
 call Providence. These animals have the powers of 
 reasoning necessary for the guidance of themselves, 
 but not those powers of reflection which -would pro- 
 bably be a source of suffering to them. 
 
 Ellesmere. Then you think that Fairy has suffi- 
 cient powers of reasoning to understand how bones 
 are most surely to be obtained in sufficient quantity ; 
 and, with that view, resolves to abide here and to 
 be true to her master, whom, I observe, she always 
 reluctantly forsakes even when I know it would be a 
 pleasure to her to go out with another active animal 
 named Ellesmere, in preference to remaining pas- 
 sively with her meat- winner, the inactive Milverton. 
 But that when she stays in his study with him, she 
 in nowise partakes of his reflections upon good and 
 evil, the Finite and the Infinite, the Subjective and 
 the Objective. 
 
 * 2Cnajcagorag Utyvtr baf* aHe Sfytete bit tfy&tige SSernunft 
 fyabert/ abeu ntdfjt Me leibertfce/ tie gletdfjfam ber £)olmetfdf)tt 
 
 beg SSerftanteg ifh 
 
 F 
 
66 ANIMALS AND 
 
 Milverton. No ; you confuse affection with rea- 
 son. Fairy stays with me because she feels (doesn't 
 reason about it) that I am the real, constant, 
 abiding friend, and must be considered first. Where- 
 in she shows the active reason that Anaxagoras speaks 
 of — the reason necessary for her preservation, as it 
 seems to her — is in burying the bones for future meals, 
 when she has for the present satisfied her hunger. I 
 assure you, that the more carefully you work out this 
 sayinp" 01 Anaxagoras, the more truth you. will find in 
 it. You must know that Anaxagoras was one of the 
 greatest philosopners that ever lived. 
 
 Ellesmere. We±i, we have had enough food for 
 reflection to-day. We have exercised both our ac- 
 tive and our passive reason sufficiently; and now 
 I vote we exercise our muscles and take a long 
 walk. 
 
 Milverton. No ; you must not go away ; I have 
 something to read to you — a letter from a Scotch 
 gentleman on the subject of the e bearing-rein.' Here 
 it is. I shall not give you the beginning of it. 
 
 Ellesmere. Yes, do : I should like to hear it 
 all. 
 
 Milverton. Don't be so curious. Perhaps there is 
 some comment upon you, saying what a troublesome 
 1 chiel ' you are to me. I shall only give you what I 
 please. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 67 
 
 He says : — 
 
 The subject is the use of the ' bearing-rein ' foi horses. 
 This abominable and useless contrivance is not used in 
 Scotland (with perhaps the exception of a permanent 
 check-rein on young, strong, high-spirited carriage horses ; 
 and it could not prudently be dispensed with as regards 
 them). 
 
 I visit some of the large towns in England twice or 
 thrice a year, and this bearing-rein on heavily-laden 
 draught horses is, to my eyes, quite an agonising subject of 
 remark. 
 
 I remonstrated with a carter in Manchester, last time 
 I was there, and told him to take it off, and let his horses 
 get their heads down, and their shoulders to the burden. 
 6 Ay, they'd come quick enough down on their knees they 
 would,' was his answer, and no argument would avail. 
 
 Now, it came under my observation, that a large 
 number of English horses were brought to Glasgow to work 
 for a railway here, and they had all the bearing-rein on 
 their arrival. 
 
 This, however, was an absurdity not to be tolerated by 
 the Scotch carters, who saw at once that the animal was 
 tortured, cribbed and confined in its action, and half the 
 power of the shoulder for drawing was lost — a splendid 
 power ! * His strength is in his neck,' as the old Scripture 
 says. 
 
 Well ! the horses had been so long used to it, that they 
 could not work without it ; but their new masters were not 
 to be baffied, and the next time I saw the horses, they were 
 working with a kind of modified bearing-rein, as follows :— 
 
 A longer strap or rope was used, and fastened to the 
 trams of the cart on each side, forming a much less acute 
 
 F 2 
 
68 ANIMALS AND 
 
 angle than the real l bearing-rein ; ' and, with this con- 
 trivance, the horses were working well, and the look of care 
 and misery was gone from their faces. 
 
 Of course this was only an intermediate stage, and 
 ended very shortly in the new horses working altogether 
 without it. 
 
 All this was the doing of the Scotch carters themselves, 
 no one interfering with them. 
 
 Now, only suppose that it should be a result of 
 our conversation, that bearing-reins should gradually 
 be left off in England as well as in Scotland, what 
 an ample success it would be ! It would be quite 
 enough to have upon our tombs, c He was one of 
 those men who caused the bearing-rein to be dis- 
 continued.' I should not wish for anything more. 
 Sir Arthur would put it beautifully into Latin. 
 
 Ellesmere. People do say — I don't say it — that 
 Milverton, with his l paternal governments/ and 
 things of that kind, is very fond of the bearing-rein 
 as applied to human beings. 
 
 Milverton. It is an outrageous calumny. There 
 is not anybody in the world who is more fond of 
 personal freedom than I am, and would protect it 
 more than I would. But this is just the way of the 
 world. You make a proposition, guarding it in the 
 most careful manner, so that it should not be mis- 
 construed or abused, and then it is quoted against 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 69 
 
 you without any of the guarding part being taken 
 notice of. It really makes one afraid to make any 
 statement whatever. The good Lavater sometimes 
 uses a strong expression when he is especially 
 anxious to recommend to the notice of his hearers 
 some aphoristic saying in which he has the greatest 
 faith. Thus he will exclaim : — 
 
 Let the four and twenty elders in Heaven rise before him 
 who, from motives of humanity, can totally suppress an 
 arch, full-pointed, but offensive bon mot. 
 
 I should like to be able to give equal force to what 
 I am going to say. ' Let the four and twenty elders 
 rise up before him who can repeat an adverse argu- 
 ment fairly/ If you observe, hardly anybody ever 
 does so ; and the curious thing is ; that people will 
 show this unfairness even in the presence of the man 
 whose argument or statement they misrepresent ; and 
 even immediately after he has uttered it. I could 
 credit a man with almost every virtue, if I saw that 
 he represented his opponent's argument fairly and 
 exactly. Of course it requires ability as well as 
 fairness to do this. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I agree with you, Milverton, and I 
 would carry the observation further. It is not only 
 that people misrepresent one's statement or one's 
 argument by misquotation — by either omitting some- 
 
7° ANIMALS AND 
 
 thing or introducing something— but they adopt a 
 more subtle form of wrong-dealing. They will carry 
 what you have said into a region that it was obviously 
 not meant to apply to— to some subject of a different 
 kind. 
 
 Elles7nere. As usual, I protest against abstract 
 sayings. Give us an example. 
 
 Sir Arthur, Well, you state something which 
 has reference to political action, in which the pas- 
 sions, the interests, the affections of men are in- 
 volved ; and your adversar) immediately applies it 
 to some abstract question of political economy or 
 morals; and he thinks he answers you, because he 
 shows that in this foreign region — foreign to your 
 present region of thought — the saying is not ap- 
 plicable. If I may say so without rudeness, you 
 sometimes do this yourself, Ellesmere. You make 
 a saying appear to be absurd, merely because you 
 will not allow yourself to be bounded by the circle 
 of thought in which your adversary is working. 
 
 Milverton. It all comes to this : that the love of 
 intellectual victory is so strong in men that they 
 apply the laws of war to questions of pure thought, 
 and take every advantage of an adversary, being quite 
 indifferent to the research after truth. 
 
 Ellesinere. Don't get into a rage, my dear fellow ! 
 What does Dr. Blair say about anger ? 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 71 
 
 Milverton. I don't care what Dr. Blair savs. Here 
 are a set of people — yourself among them — bound 
 down by the narrowest conventionalities of all kinds ; 
 and, because I say that it is necessary, when people 
 live in close contact with one another, as in great 
 towns, that each one should be prevented by some 
 high controlling authority from doing something which 
 directly injures the health and well-being of his neigh- 
 bours, or when I say that the State, or the municipal 
 authority, should do something for the general good, 
 which no individual can manage to get done for him- 
 self, then you talk of my being fond of the bearing- 
 rein for human beings. 
 
 Ellesmere. I had no idea that there was a thunder- 
 storm so near ! 
 
 Milverton. And what a coward you are as regards 
 these conventionalities I spoke of, and which are real 
 bearing-reins to you, and very tight ones too ! 
 
 Pray, may I ask, Master Ellesmere, are you not, as 
 being one of the most impatient men in the world, 
 often wearied to death at a long dinner ? 
 
 Ellesmere. I can answer that question honestly — 
 Yes. 
 
 Milverton. Did you ever wish to get up, and take a 
 turn about the room, and resume your seat ? 
 
 Ellesmere. Dozens of times. 
 
 Milverton. Did you ever venture to do it ? 
 
72 ANIMALS AND 
 
 E lies mere. No. 
 
 Milverton. I thought so. There has been but one 
 man in my time brave enough thus to risk the 
 danger of his being thought a little eccentric — and 
 who did venture to walk about the room at dinner- 
 time when he was tired of sitting. I just mentioned 
 this trifling thing, which came into my mind at the 
 moment, as a very slight specimen of the innumer- 
 able ties which really control human beings, and are 
 their bearing-reins. I don't say that these ties are all 
 of them bad ; but what I do say, is, that they are in- 
 finitely vexatious when compared with the control 
 which I would have exercised for the public good. 
 
 Ellesmere. Now that Milverton has cooled down a 
 little, I don't mind telling you all a great secret. [Here 
 he lowered his voice to a whisper.] I do not know of 
 anybody, however agreeable, present company of 
 course excepted, whom I do not get tired of as a neigh- 
 bour during a dinner that lasts two or three hours. As 
 Dr. Johnson would say, one travels over their minds. 
 
 Milverton, No, one doesn't. 
 
 Ellesmere, Nothing can please him now, after my 
 unfortunate speech about the bearing-rein. 
 
 Milverton, It is a most unwarrantable notion, 
 whether Dr. Johnson said it or not, that one can travel 
 over other men's minds in any transient and cursory 
 manner. The most commonplace person has wild 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 7$ 
 
 regions — wildernesses it may be — of thought and feel- 
 ing, which even their most intimate friends hardly 
 ever enter. But I admit that of superficial talk, or 
 even of very good dinner talk, two or three hours is a 
 Fearful spell to have with any ordinary human being. 
 
 Ellesmere. We are coming round at last. 
 
 Milverton. I wish to go back to a part of the sub- 
 ject which we were discussing a few minutes ago. I 
 think I understand Ellesmere. He thinks he under- 
 stands me, which is much more doubtful. I abso- 
 lutely foresaw that he would be as sure as possible to 
 introduce the question of the intelligence of animals ; 
 and that Descartes' theory, or supposed theory, 
 would have to be discussed. Well, I hunted every- 
 where to find out what Descartes really said ; but I 
 have not come upon any passage which determines 
 the point. I must say that I venture, with all hu- 
 mility, to differ from Sir Arthur, and to declare that I 
 have not found anything in Descartes' writings which 
 justifies the assertion that he maintained that animals 
 have no feeling. His 'Discours de la Methode' seems 
 to me to point the other way. I did not, therefore, 
 find what I sought for. I have, however, found a 
 treasure. Voltaire once wrote an ' £loge ' upon Des- 
 cartes. While looking for that, I discovered a short 
 essay of Voltaire's upon animals, which is perfectly 
 admirable. By the way, it is very pious, and would 
 
74 ANIMALS AND 
 
 much astonish those persons who suppose that Voitaif e 
 had no religion at all. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Give us some notion of the essay. I 
 see you have the book in your hand. 
 
 Mitverton. He begins by an exclamatory sentence, 
 ' What a pity it is ! What poverty (of thought) to 
 have said that animals are machines, deprived of 
 knowledge and feeling, always carrying on their 
 labours in the same way, and bringing nothing to 
 perfection !' 
 
 Then he gives instances, excellently chosen, of the 
 intelligence of birds. He speaks of the canary learn- 
 ing to sing, and asks this pregnant question : ' N'as-tu 
 pas vu qu'il se mdprend et qu'il se corrige?' 
 
 He then goes on to describe all the movements of 
 inquietude which a friend might observe in him 
 (Voltaire) when he has lost anything, and of joy when 
 he has found it. 
 
 I must now give you his own words : — 
 
 ' Porte done le meme jugement sur ce chien qui a 
 perdu son maitre, qui l'a cherche dans tous les che- 
 mins avec des cris douloureux, qui entre dans la 
 maison agite, inquiet, qui descend, qui monte, qui va 
 de chambre en chambre, qui trouve enfin dans son 
 cabinet le maitre qu'il aime, et qui lui temoigne sa 
 joie par la douceur de ses cris, par ses sauts^ par ses 
 caresses. 
 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 75 
 
 1 Des barbares saisissent ce chien, qui Temporte si 
 prodigieusement sur Thomme en amitie ; ils le clement 
 sur une table, et ils le dissequent vivant pour te mon- 
 trer les veines mezaraiques. Tu decouvres dans lui 
 tous les memes organes de sentiment qui sont dans 
 toi. Reponds-moi, machiniste ; la nature a-t-elle 
 arrange tous les ressorts du sentiment dans cet animal, 
 arm qu'il ne sente pas ? A-t-il des nerfs pour etre 
 impassible ? Ne suppose point cette impertinente 
 contradiction dans la nature/ 
 
 He then has a passage which is eminently Voltairian. 
 It occurs in a discussion of. the various theories of 
 naturalists, metaphysicians, and theologians, as to the 
 nature of the souls of animals. 
 
 ( Les ames des betes sont des formes substantielles, 
 a dit Aristote ; apres Aristote, Pecole arabe ; et apres 
 l'ecole arabe, l'ecole angelique ; et apres l'ecole an- 
 gelique, la Sorbonne ; et apres la Sorbonne personne 
 au monde.' 
 
 You must read the essay for yourselves. It is to be 
 found in the ' Dictionnaire philosophique.' 
 But the last passage I will read to you now. 
 
 ' Mais qui fait mouvoir le soufflet des animaux ? Je 
 vous Tai deja dit, celui qui fait mouvoir les astres. 
 Le philosophe qui a dit, Deus est anima brutorum^ 
 avait raison ; mais il devait aller plus loin.' 
 
76 ANIMALS AND 
 
 Sir Arthur. What wonderfully lucid language is 
 that of Voltaire ! 
 
 Milverton. Yes : how we should all endeavour to 
 imitate that lucidity ! I should like never to speak a 
 single sentence, nor to write one, whether as regards 
 the physical handwriting or the composition, which 
 was not perfectly intelligible, as far as language is 
 concerned, to the most ordinary reader. It is not 
 much worth one's while to be greatly disconcerted at 
 anything that may happen to one in this world ; but 
 I must confess that I do hate to be misunderstood. 
 
 ' Misunderstood/ by the way, is an excellent title 
 of an excellent book. 
 
 It is a perfect marvel to me that several men of our 
 time, men even of genius, take, comparatively speak- 
 ing, so little care to make themselves thoroughly 
 understood. It was my vexation at being misunder- 
 stood, that made me a little angry just now with 
 Ellesmere. 
 
 Ellesmere. A little angry ! Well, I know I was 
 very glad that the study table was between us. 
 
 Milverton. I did not mean what I then said to be 
 an answer to Ellesmere only, but to other people ; 
 perhaps to some among yourselves. I know he 
 adapted his sneer about the bearing-rein to the talk of 
 other people. 
 
 One must stand up for one's self sometimes. I do 
 
 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 77 
 
 declare I have only met with two or three people in 
 the world, John Mill amongst them, who have as 
 much love of, and value for/ personal freedom as I 
 have. There are several things which States have 
 interfered with, and still interfere with, in which their 
 interference is, to my mind, not defensible. 
 
 When I am in favour of State interference, it is 
 simply upon those occasions whereon, and upon those 
 matters wherein, the common consent, nay, I may 
 almost say the universal consent, of mankind admits 
 that the objects aimed at are for the good of each 
 individual; and more than that, that the individual 
 cannot obtain this good for himself without the con- 
 trolling power of the State. 
 
 Ellesmere. That last sentence is a long one ; and 
 before I could assent to it I must have it brought 
 home to my dull mind by instances. 
 
 Milverton. Is it not a universal desire on the part 
 of those people who drink water, that it should be 
 pure water? If I showed you that it is impossible, or 
 at least enormously difficult, for human beings, when 
 they are packed close together, to obtain such a pri- 
 mary requisite as pure water without the interference 
 of the State, then I may fairly claim the interference 
 of the State. But if I choose to marry my deceased 
 wife's sister ; if I choose to subscribe to a lottery; if 
 I choose, at one o'clock in the morning, to try and get 
 
73 ANIMALS AND 
 
 a glass of beer, and another person chooses to keep a 
 house open for the chance of supplying me with it ; 
 what are any of these things to you ? * 
 
 You may say, if you like, that I am fanatical and 
 absurd in my devotion to personal freedom ; but, at 
 any rate, do not blame me on both sides, and accuse 
 me of a love for a tight bearing-rein, as applied to men, . 
 when you find that I maintain it should be so loose a 
 rein as regards interference with the personal freedom 
 of the people. 
 
 Now do not again misunderstand me. I am not 
 fonder of drunkenness and gambling than you are; 
 but I am fond, beyond all measure, of men being 
 allowed to guide themselves and to act upon their own 
 notions of right and wrong in all matters in which the 
 peace and welfare of the community are not directly 
 menaced by the action of individuals. 
 
 Now let me take another case, in which control 
 cannot be held to be an unjust interference with per- 
 sonal freedom. There are these millions of people in 
 
 * Mr. Milverton told me afterwards that he was sorry for 
 having said the words which I have italicised : and he 
 alluded to an article in MacmillarCs Magazine for November, 
 1872, which had shown him the immense advantages which 
 had resulted from the Licensing Act — advantages so great 
 as to compensate for the loss of individual freedom in this 
 matter. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 79 
 
 a large metropolis like ours. In order that they may 
 circulate freely, and with less danger than, unhappily, 
 they do at present, certain regulations must be made, 
 or ought to be made, by some central authority. 
 
 A better instance still is that of erecting a series of 
 barriers, to facilitate the ingress or egress of a great 
 crowd. This is not any interference with private 
 liberty ; it is, in fact, a means of creating private 
 liberty. It is not a needless use of a bearing-rein. 
 
 In short, when a huge number of human beings are 
 congregated together in a small space, comparatively 
 speaking, you must have regulations to enable even 
 the strong, the wise, and the powerful to have the 
 utmost freedom of action and movement ; much more 
 to enable the weak, the ignorant, and the powerless to 
 have the same facilities. 
 
 Ellesmere. Well, now do you agree that we have 
 talked enough, and have travelled over a satisfying 
 portion of each other's minds ? I know that a little 
 while ago I got into a jungle with some wild beasts 
 in it, which I am very glad to have got out of. And 
 so let us be off for a walk. 
 
 He then rose ; the party broke up ; and there 
 was no more conversation about animals that day. 
 
 Postscript. — I may mention, that in the course 
 of this conversation Mr. Milverton read the follow- 
 
So 
 
 ANIMALS AiVB 
 
 ing letter, which he had found in an Echo news- 
 paper of last July ; the suggestion therein made 
 was highly approved of by himself and the other 
 1 Friends in Council.' I did not introduce it into 
 the conversation on account of its length ; but it 
 appears to be well worth considering. 
 
 C 
 
 Breaks for Omnibuses. 
 To the Editor of the 'Echo.' 
 
 Sir, — Every afternoon, when I take a peep behind my 
 winkers, I see you, and none but you, fluttering on the top 
 of the lumbering caravan which Destiny has thought good to 
 oblige me to lug along the slippery streets of London, and I 
 often say to myself and to my partner in misery, * How is it 
 that that 'ere light-weight, as is up to everything, don't pitch 
 into them as is responsible for the needless labour inflicted 
 on us poor horses through the want of drags to stop the 
 'bus ? ' Why, you must have seen, times and times, how the 
 collar is pulled nearly over our heads every time we stop, to 
 say nothing of our teeth being crushed, and our necks nearly 
 wrung off (almost all my pals have toothache, but we don't 
 let on that we have it, for it ain't pleasant to have melted 
 lead poured into a tooth, as is how they stop our poor old 
 grinders) ; and this pretty operation of stopping (I mean the 
 'bus, not the teeth) is performed a couple of hundred times 
 every day of our lives. 
 
 Now, they tell me that there is a gentleman who has 
 power to cause these drags to be put on omnibuses, under 
 the driver's feet, as in Manchester — him, I mean, as had 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 81 
 
 little flags stuck on the cabs a short time ago. Suppose he 
 knew that he would be sticking a year or two on our lives 
 by making a stopping drag a condition of a 'bus licence, don't 
 you think he would do it ? Yes, bless him ; but though he is a 
 kind-hearted gentleman, he don't ride on 'buses, and don't 
 know what we have to suffer now. All the drivers know 
 and would bless him if he did so, for I hear them say their 
 arms is pulled off with the stopping (what must our poor 
 mouths be ?). 
 
 And another thing is, that, if we had drags, less of those 
 stupid bipeds that are continually running before the 'bus, 
 would be injured. I should be rather pleased than other- 
 wise if we now and then ran over a 'bus proprietor ; but it 
 goes to my heart when an old person. or a little child toddles 
 out into the roadway, and all the people cry out, ' Hoi ! ' 
 and the driver nearly tugs our heads off, and, do all we can, 
 we can't stop the 'bus in time : it pushes us on before it, and 
 down goes the unfortunate human with a leg broken, or 
 worse ! Some of us horses have heard say that there is a 
 society for preventing cruelty to animals (and our treatment 
 is cruelty), but I don't believe it, leastways the society does 
 not, I suppose, ride on 'buses. Now, dear * Echo,' couldn't 
 you row them up all round, and get us drags, and you shall 
 have our blessing ; but here comes Jem to harness me for 
 my day's work, so no more at present from your humble and 
 obedient old 
 
 'Bus Horse. 
 
 G 
 
£2 ANIMALS AND 
 
 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Previously to recounting the next conversation, 
 I must give some explanations, without which it 
 might not be understood. 
 
 We had a short conversation before the one 
 which I am about to relate. In the course of it the 
 general subject was renewed respecting the intelli- 
 gence and worth of animals. Mr. Milverton and 
 Sir Arthur were required to produce all that they 
 could find upon this subject in the works of 
 authors of renown, and this was to be done in the 
 ensuing ten days. I may mention that Sir John 
 Ellesmere was staying in our house. Mr. Milverton 
 has a way of making everybody work who comes 
 near him ; and he employed Sir John, myself, 
 and several other persons, to assist him in his re- 
 searches, directing them as to what books they 
 should read. Devoting ourselves entirely to this 
 subject (and even the ladies of the house were not 
 
THEIR MASTERS, 85 
 
 allowed any books but those which Mr. Milverton 
 placed in their hands), it is astonishing what a mass 
 of materials we collected. 
 
 At length the ten days had elapsed, our friends 
 had re-assembled, and the conversation thus 
 began : — 
 
 Ellesmere. Before anything is said on the general 
 subject, I have a quarrel to pick with Milverton. I 
 have now known that man for more years than it is 
 pleasant to enumerate. All this time he has had a 
 book in his library which he must have known it would 
 have been a constant delight to me to read, and which, 
 indeed, using Cranmer's form of words, I should 
 certainly have written if I had possessed the requisite 
 knowledge. 
 
 First, though, I must tell you that we have been 
 worked like negro slaves. I have had to read through 
 some of the most detestable books I have ever read 
 in my life — one or two of them in monkish Latin ; 
 but when I came to this treasure of a book, I struck 
 work, for it completely fascinated me. 
 
 Cranmer. I wonder what it can be. I will make a 
 guess— Search's ( Light of Nature ' ? 
 
 Ellesmere. No. Before, however, I tell you what it 
 is, I would not have you imagine that I have not been 
 of some service in this great enquiry. I have discovered 
 
84 ANIMALS AND 
 
 that the saying of Anaxagoras, which Milverton couldn't 
 find, is in Plutarch. Having found that, I think I 
 have done enough. 
 
 But now to my own dear book. It is Bishop Berkeley's 
 i Querist.' You have no idea of the sagacity of that 
 man. Many a conclusion that we take to be the 
 result of modern discovery, is anticipated by him ; 
 and then his quaint way of putting everything is so 
 delightful. I must give you some extracts at once, 
 before we get immersed in our subject. He asks : — 
 
 Whether reflexion in the better sort might not soon remedy 
 our evils ? and whether our real defect be not in a wrong 
 way of thinking ? 
 
 Whether France and Flanders could have drawn so much 
 money from England for figured silks, lace, and tapestry, 
 if they had not had academies for designing ? 
 
 Whether our linen manufacture would not find the bene- 
 fit of this institution ; and whether there be anything that 
 makes us fall short of the Dutch in damasks, diapers, and 
 printed linen, but our ignorance in design ? 
 
 Whether those, who may slight this affair as notional, 
 have sufficiently considered the extensive use of the Art of 
 Design, and its influence in most trades and manufactures, 
 wherein the forms of things are often more regarded than 
 the materials ? 
 
 Here you see that South Kensington is anticipated. 
 
 Again : — 
 
 Whether comfortable living doth not produce wants, and 
 wants industry, and industry wealth ? 
 
THEIR MASTERS. Z$ 
 
 Whether any art or manufacture be so difficult as the 
 making of good laws ? 
 
 Whether our peers and gentlemen are born legislators ? 
 or, whether that faculty be acquired by study and reflexion ? 
 
 Whether to comprehend the real interest of a people and 
 the means to procure it doth not imply some fund of know- 
 ledge, historical, moral, and political, with a faculty of 
 reason improved by learning ? 
 
 Whether every enemy to learning be not a Goth ? and 
 whether every such Goth among us be not an enemy to the 
 country ? 
 
 Whether, therefore, it would not be an omen of ill 
 presage, a dreadful phenomenon in the land, if our great 
 men should take it into their heads to deride learning and 
 education ? 
 
 Whether half the learning and study of these kingdoms 
 is not useless for want of a proper delivery and pronunciation 
 being taught in our schools and colleges ? 
 
 Whether, in imitation of the Jesuits at Paris, who admit 
 Protestants to study in their College, it may not be right for 
 us also to admit Roman Cathoiics into our colleges, without 
 obliging them to attend chapel-duties or Catechisms or 
 Divinity lectures ? 
 
 Whether, as others have supposed an Atlantis or Eutopia, 
 we also may not suppose an Hyperborean Island inhabited 
 by reasonable creatures ? 
 
 Manleverer. The extracts are admirable. I decline, 
 however, to say ( Yes ' to the last query. Neither in 
 Hyperborean Islands nor anywhere else will you find 
 a country ' inhabited by reasonable creatures.' 
 
S6 ANIMALS AND 
 
 I am going to imitate Ellesmere, a practice, however 
 desirable, that I rarely indulge in. Before we sepa- 
 rated, the other day, Milverton gave me a book to read, 
 written by a certain Jerome Cardan, whom I had never 
 heard of before, and in this work Milverton was hope- 
 ful that I should find something very deep and very 
 significant respecting the nature and character of 
 animals. I did not, however, find anything of the 
 kind ; but I found a delicious simile, which will be of 
 use to me for the remainder of my life. There appears 
 to have been a certain Greek, named Theonosto. I 
 wish he had been one of the 'Friends in Council.' I 
 think he would have kept down a good deal of our 
 host's optimist talk, and would invariably have been 
 on my side. He compares the course of our life 
 to water boiling in a cauldron, which, the more it 
 bubbles up, the less it becomes, and finally dries up 
 altogether.* It is a lovely simile, and would, if well 
 
 Alterum (de quo in Theonosto), qui est secundum vir- 
 tutem ; quique vere optimus est, et totus in potestate nostra : 
 eo magis recordantibus nobis quod (et in Faralipomenis, lib. 
 vi. sect. 2, dictum) vitae nostrae cursum ferventi in lebete aquae 
 assimilari ; quae quantumvis intumescat, ubi magis processerit, 
 semper minor sit, et siccatur. Quamobrem optima vita 
 esset, sibi ipsi vivere, conscientiae, virtuti ac sapientiae : 
 beate ac feliciter. — Hieronymi Cardani Arcana Politica, 
 anno 1635. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. ^ 
 
 attended to, keep people more quiet than they are at 
 present. 
 
 Milverton. I really must not allow you to say any- 
 thing more about Bishop Berkeley, or Jerome Cardan. 
 We have a great deal of hard work before us to- 
 day. 
 
 First, I must tell you that there is a most elaborate 
 discussion, or rather two discussions, in Bayle's Dic- 
 tionary about the reasoning powers of animals. I 
 am very glad that I did not know this until we had 
 made investigation for ourselves, for I might have 
 been tempted to have been satisfied with Bayle, 
 whereas we have found out much that was not known 
 to him. What have you found, Sir Arthur ? 
 
 Sir Arthur. The most noteworthy passages that 
 I have found are in Seneca. In the first place, he 
 says that animals cannot confer benefits : ' Nee tamen 
 beneficium dant, quod nunquam datur, nisi a volente. 
 
 In the next place he says that they have no such 
 passion as anger — '/eras ird carere? He admits that 
 they have impulses which create c rabiem, feritatem, 
 incursum ; ' but no such thing as anger. 
 
 Ellesmere. I do not wish to say anything rude of 
 that rich man, Nero's tutor; but he is an ass. 
 
 Sir Arthur. His doctrine may be very foolish; 
 but it is very interesting to see how early were the 
 seeds of that doctrine implanted which led to 
 
88 ANIMALS AND 
 
 Descartes' theory. By the way, Milverton, was I right 
 about Descartes ? 
 
 Milverton. Yes : I give up ; you were. Well, now 
 I want to show you something which also anticipates 
 Descartes. There is hardly any writer in the world 
 who had such influence in his own time, and long 
 afterwards, as Thomas Aquinas, the 'Angelic Doctor/ 
 or the 'Angel of the Schools/ as he is frequently 
 called. 
 
 In his Summa Totius Theologies, the most tre- 
 mendous book I believe that ever was written, he 
 takes up the cause against animals. Here is one of 
 his propositions: Animalia bruta non delectantur 
 visibilibus, odoribus, et sows, nisi in ordine ad susten- 
 tationem naturoe. 
 
 Ellesmere. What an absurdity ! Why, with only 
 my little knowledge of animals, I could mention to you 
 a dozen creatures of my acquaintance who have had 
 the keenest delight in music for music's sake. I knew 
 a cat who not only delighted in music, but had the 
 nicest perception as to who was the best musician in 
 the room (at least pussy's opinion and mine always 
 agreed), and she would distinguish her musical 
 favourite by extreme marks of approbation and 
 applause. 
 
 What a deadly thing it is when once a man has got 
 a theory or a doctrine into his head to which he must 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 89 
 
 make everything bend ! Or, to put it after the fashion 
 of Berkeley, Whether a man ever makes a greater 
 fool of his understanding than when he adopts some 
 theory, moral, metaphysical, or theological, which he 
 thinks will explain all morality, theology, or meta- 
 physics, and which admits of no exceptions ? 
 
 Cranmer. I foresee that we shall be inundated with 
 queries from Ellesmere, put in the Berkeleyan form ; 
 and that we shall come to dread the word ' Whether ' 
 as much as Ellesmere dreads the words ' That reminds 
 me.' 
 
 Ellesmere. I flatter myself that I know exactly 
 when a man becomes a bore. I wish that other 
 people were as sensitive upon that point as I am. 
 
 But I must tell you something which Milverton 
 said, in the course of these ten days that we have had 
 together, touching this subject, and which really was 
 not a foolish remark. He was telling me how these 
 theories arose which were so inimical to animals : as, 
 for instance, that certain philosophers had come to 
 the conclusion that there were only two things in the 
 world, namely matter and soul. Now they did not 
 like to say that the brutes had soul, for there was but 
 one kind of soul, and that was possessed by man. 
 They did not even like to admit of any admixture of 
 soul and matter, which would create an inferior kind 
 of soul. Consequently, having the full courage of 
 
90 ANIMALS AXD 
 
 their opinions, they resolved to say that brutes were 
 only compounded of matter, and did not indulge in 
 lii g& 
 
 All this, however, was merely information that he 
 ve me. Now for his genera] remark. He said, 
 Oil may almost always detect the severe, hard, 
 cruel man, by his dislike, even in matters of the in- 
 tellect, to admit o\ exception-. Never, he added, 
 come under the power of a man, if you can help it, 
 whom you perceive to have an especial aversion to 
 nit exceptions to any theory or any rule he has once 
 laid down. That man will be a very hard man to 
 deal with/ 
 
 This discourse pleased me, for I am a lover of ex- 
 ceptions, and am consequently rather a soft and gentle 
 person to deal with. 
 
 Cranmer* Objections are not exceptions; or, to 
 t the matter more plainly, captious objections are 
 not n< -arils- judicious exceptions. 
 
 llesmere. This man has been very angry with me 
 ever since I said that he would make a good tortoise 
 in a future state of existence ; and he has been anxious 
 to show that there are creatures of the tortoise species 
 endowed with much force and vivacity — snapping- 
 turtles. for example. 
 
 Mih'crton. This digression is very gratifying tome, 
 
 as showing that I once made a sensible remark ; but 
 
 
THEIR MASTERS. g\ 
 
 may I entreat you, Ellesmcre, as a reward for this 
 exertion on my part, to allow me to go on with my 
 subject ? I will at once furnish you with a singular 
 contrast to the words of the severe schoolman, Thomas 
 Aquinas, in the pretty sayings of dear old Montaigne. 
 He says : — 
 
 If it be justice to render to everyone their due, the beasts 
 that serve, love, and defend their benefactors / and that 
 pursue and fall upon strangers and those who offend them, 
 do in this represent a certain air of our justice : as also 
 in observiiig a very equitable equality in the distribution of 
 what they have to their young ; and as to friendship, they 
 have it without comparison more lively and constant than 
 men have. There are inclinations of affection, which some- 
 times spring up in us without the consultation of reason, 
 and by a fortuitous temerity, which others call sympathy : 
 of which beasts are capable as we : we see horses take 
 such an acquaintance with one another, that we have much 
 ado to make them eat or travel when separated ; we ob- 
 serve them to fancy a particular colour in those of their own 
 kind, and, where they meet it, nin to it with great joy and 
 demonstrations of good-will, and have a dislike and hatred 
 for some other colour. Animals have choice, as well as we, 
 in their amours ; neither are they exempt from our jealousies 
 and implacable malice. 
 
 This occurs in his ' Apology for Raimondde Sebonde.' 
 In another essay, that on cruelty, he says : — 
 
 I hardly ever take any beast or bird alive that I do not 
 presently turn loose. Pythagoras bought them, and fishes, of 
 
92 ANIMALS AND 
 
 huntsmen, fowlers, and fishermen, to do the same. Those 
 natures that are sanguinary towards beasts, discover a natural 
 propensity to cruelty. After they had accustomed themselves 
 at Rome to spectacles of the slaughter of animals, they pro- 
 ceeded to those of the slaughter of men, the gladiators. 
 Nature has herself, I doubt, imprinted in man a kind of 
 instinct to inhumanity ; nobody takes pleasure in seeing beasts 
 play and caress one another, but everyone is delighted with 
 seeing them dismember and tear one another to pieces. And 
 that I may not be laughed at for the sympathy I have with 
 them, Theology itself enjoins us some favour in their behalf; 
 and considering that one and the same master has lodged us 
 together in this palace for his service, and that they as well 
 as we are of his family, it has reason to enjoin us some 
 affection and regard to them. 
 
 Ellesmere. How pleased Montaigne would have 
 been with Horace Walpole (you needn't remark, 
 Cranmer, that this is < impossible/ because Horace 
 Walpole lived some years after Montaigne) — how 
 pleased he would have been, I say, if he could have 
 read that letter of Walpole's to his friend, Lord Straf- 
 ford, in which, if I recollect rightly, he commemorates 
 the loss of a dog, and says something of this kind, < If 
 I could have a friend possessing such fidelity, I should 
 not at all mind his having two additional legs.' 
 
 Milverton. From Montaigne I pass to Petrarch, 
 who, in his c View of Human Life,' has the following 
 charming passage : — 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 93 
 
 Leave all animals to their proper places and their proper 
 uses ; those that are wild to the woods, and the direction 
 of Providence for their haunts and their destination ; and 
 domestic animals to those whose wide grounds and fields can 
 with wholesome and true care nourish them for thy table, 
 and coop them not up to fret, and waste, and scrape, and 
 litter in thy small inclosures or narrow courts. Suffer also 
 the little birds to live in the open air ; there to feed, to 
 multiply, to sing, to stretch out their wings, and smooth 
 their little breasts in joy , and ye little babes, as saith 
 Solomon, turn ye at my rebuke, bring them not to you to 
 pine and die in your domestic prisons ; but rather go to 
 them, stretch forth your slothful minds unto Heaven, and 
 join in the full choir of praise to that Power who created the 
 birds of the air, and the fishes of the sea, and man to 
 govern them all, wisely and kindly, for his good. * 
 
 From Petrarch I pass to Fuller, who, in describing 
 the good Master, says : — 
 
 He is tender of his servant in his sicknesse and age. If 
 crippled in his service, his house is his hospital ; yet how 
 many throw away those dry bones, out of the which them- 
 selves have suck'd the marrow? It is as usuall to see a 
 young serving-man an old beggar, as to see a light horse 
 first from the great saddle of a nobleman to come to the 
 hackney-coach, and at last die drawing a carre. But the 
 good master is not like the cruell hunter in the fable, who 
 beats his old dogge, because his to'othlesse mouth let go 
 
 * Mrs. Dobson's Translation, 1797. 
 
94 ANIMALS AND 
 
 the game : he rather imitates the noble nature of our Prince 
 Henry, who took order for the keeping of an old English 
 mastiffe, which had made a lion runne away. Good reason, 
 good service in age should be rewarded. And well may 
 masters consider how easie a transposition it had been for 
 God, to have made him to mount into the saddle that holds 
 the stirrup, and him to sit down at the table, who stands by 
 with a trencher. 
 
 The above is not a passage directly bearing upon 
 the subject of animals, but it is all the more striking 
 on that ground, as it shows how completely Fuller 
 identified the good service of an animal with the 
 good service of a serving-man. 
 
 Everyone knows the sayings of St. Francis of 
 Assisi respecting animals, and how he called the 
 birds his ' dear brothers and sisters.' A modern 
 writer of the saint's life thus describes the love of 
 the saint for all created beings : — 
 
 L'amour de saint Francois pour la nature n'est pas 
 moins ceLbre dans les legendes que son inepuisable mansue- 
 tude. Et ce qu'il a de particulier, c'est qu'il ne se restraint 
 pas dans son coeur a un etre particulier et a quelques 
 moments diffusion, il s'etend a tout ce qui existe et anime 
 pour ainsi dire chaque instant de sa vie. Ici, nous le voyons 
 se detourner pour ne pas ecraser le ver du chemin. La, 
 assis pres d'un figuier, il appelle une cigale et lui commande 
 de louer Dieu ; la cigale obeit, vole sur sa main, et tous les 
 jours elle venait visiter le patriarche des pauvres et lui 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 95 
 
 elever le coeur par ses chants. L'biver verm, il avait une 
 grande crainte que les abeilles ne mourussent de froid, et il 
 leur faisait apporter du miel et du vin. * 
 
 I think we may assume that the tenets of their 
 great founder respecting animals, were held in re- 
 verence by the Franciscan monks. One instance of 
 the kind I remember to have seen noticed by 
 Humboldt. He mentions that a Franciscan, who 
 had accompanied him through some of the most 
 difficult country in South America, used to say, when 
 apprehensive of a storm at night, ' May Heaven grant 
 a quiet night both to us and to the wild beasts of the 
 forest ! ' Humboldt had mentioned that a storm at 
 night creates great terror and confusion among these 
 wild beasts. 
 
 Again, the greatest poets in all ages have been 
 great admirers of animals, and their sayings would 
 form a code of tenderness for these our fellow- 
 creatures. Throughout Shakespeare's writings, for 
 instance, you can detect the love that he had for 
 animals. 
 
 Ellesmere. I don't think much of that. Shake- 
 speare understood everybody and everything, and 
 accordingly liked everybody and everything. J 
 
 * Saint Francois d'Assise, par Frederic Morin. Paris, 
 
 1853- 
 
96 ANIMALS AND 
 
 Cranmcr. Certainly. It is clear he understood all 
 aoout lawyers, and yet he never speaks unkindly 
 even of them. 
 
 Ellcsmcrc. How sharp Cranmer is becoming; but 
 I wish he would not always whet his wit on me. 
 
 Milverton* Now I am going to quote a very 
 remarkable passage or series of passages ; and what 
 is remarkable in them is this — that somewhat of the 
 same idea as that put forth by Seneca, by Thomas 
 Aquinas, by Descartes (by Leibnitz also, if I recollect 
 rightly), has evidently some hold upon a compara- 
 tively modern poet — a very religious man. You see 
 the same course of thought; and you feci that if this 
 man had lived in the times of Thomas Aquinas, he 
 would have agreed with the 'Angelic Doctor.' It 
 is from Young's ' Night Thoughts.' He is proving 
 that the soul of man is immortal. Young, I am 
 afraid, is very little read now, but it seems to me 
 that he is a great poet. 
 
 If such is man's allotment, what is heav'n ? 
 
 Or own the soul immortal, or blaspheme. 
 
 Or own the soul immortal, or invert 
 
 All order. Go, mock-majesty ! go, man ! 
 
 And bow to thy superiors of the stall ; 
 
 Thro' every scene of sense superior far : 
 
 They graze the turf untill'd, they drink the stream 
 
 Unbrew'd, and ever full, and unembitter'd 
 
 With doubts, fears, fruitless hopes, regrets, despairs ; 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 97 
 
 Mankind's peculiar, Reason's precious -dovv'r ! 
 
 No foreign clime they ransack for their robes ; 
 
 Nor brothers cite to the litigious bar ; 
 
 Their good is good entire, unmix'd, unmarr'd ; 
 
 They find a paradise in every field, 
 
 On boughs forbidden where no curses hang : 
 
 Their ill, no more than strikes the sense, unstretch'd 
 
 By previous dread, or murmur in the rear ; 
 
 When the worst comes, it comes unfear'd ; one stroke 
 
 Begins and ends their woe : they die but once ; 
 
 Blest, incommunicable privilege ! for which 
 
 Proud man, who rules the globe, and reads the stars, 
 
 Philosopher, or hero, sighs in vain. 
 
 Then, having said so much for brute life, he restores 
 man to his supremacy, of course inferring that there 
 is no future existence for brutes : — 
 
 Account for this prerogative in brutes. 
 
 No day, no glimpse of day, to solve the knot, 
 
 But what beams on it from eternity. 
 
 O sole and sweet solution ! That unties 
 
 The difficult and softens the severe, 
 
 The cloud on Nature's beauteous face dispels, 
 
 Restores bright order, casts the brute beneath, 
 
 And re- enthrones us in supremacy 
 
 Of joy, ev'n here ; admit immortal life, 
 
 And virtue is knight-errantry no more \ 
 
 Each virtue brings in hand a golden dow'r. 
 
 Far richer in reversion : hope exults ; 
 
 And, tho' much bitter in our cup is thrown, 
 
 Predominates, and gives the taste of heav'n. 
 
 The philosophers whom we have quoted do not 
 
 trouble themselves about the lot in this life assigned to 
 
 H 
 
93 
 
 ANIMALS AND 
 
 the animal creation. Several of them, indeed, con- 
 clude that the animals have no such lot, inasmuch as 
 they are mere phenomena and simulacra ; but Young 
 could not do that, and would not wish to do that. He 
 gives them a certain glory and a certain fulness of 
 happiness in this life. He is not perplexed by the 
 thought which presses upon the severe thinker, Bayle, 
 and which, I doubt not, has been shared by many a 
 thinker, especially in modern times. 
 
 ' Les actions des betes,' says Bayle, ' sont peut-etre un des 
 plus profonds abimes sur quoi notre raison se puisse ex- 
 ercer ; et je suis surpris que si peu de gens s'en aper- 
 ^oivent.' 
 
 Sir Arthur, Without pretending to be a severe 
 thinker, I entirely accord with what Bayle says upon 
 the subject. 
 
 Milverton. Most appropriately does our friend 
 Johnson now hand me a book in which there is a 
 quotation from Dr. Arnold. He says : — 
 
 It should seem as if the primitive Christians, by laying so 
 much stress upon a future life in contradistinction to this 
 life, and placing the lower creatures out of the pale of hope, 
 placed them at the same time out of the pale of sympathy, 
 and thus laid the foundation for this utter disregard of ani- 
 mals in the light of our fellow- creatures. Their definition 
 of virtue was the same as Paley's — that it was good per- 
 formed for the sake of ensuring everlasting happiness — which 
 of course excluded all the so-called brute creatures. Kind, 
 
THEIR MASTERS, 99 
 
 loving, submissive, conscientious, much-enduring, we know 
 them to be ; but because we deprive them of all stake in 
 the future, because they have no selfish, calculated aim, 
 these are not virtues ; yet if we say * a vicious horse,' why 
 not say ' a virtuous horse ' ? 
 
 I think this comes in well after what we have heard 
 from Young's c Night Thoughts.' Johnson found it in 
 a work of Mrs. Jameson's,* who has written very well 
 upon the subject. She also gives the following pas- 
 sage from Jeremy Bentham : — 
 
 The day may come when the rest of the animal creation 
 may acquire those rights which never could have been with- 
 held from them but by the hand of tyranny. It may come 
 one day to be recognized that the number of legs, the villo- 
 sity of the skin, or the termination of the os sacrum, are 
 reasons insufficient for abandoning a sensitive being to the 
 caprice of a tormentor. What else is it that should trace the 
 insuperable line ? Is it the faculty of reason, or perhaps the 
 faculty of discourse? But a full-grown horse or dog is 
 beyond comparison a more rational as well as a more con- 
 versable animal than an infant of a day, a week, or even a 
 month old. But suppose the case were otherwise, what 
 would it avail ? The question is not l can they reason ? 
 nor * can they speak ? ' but ' can they suffer ? ' 
 
 I quote that passage because the final sentence is 
 exactly like one that I gave you the other day from 
 Voltaire's essay, and it really contains the gist of the 
 
 * Mrs. Jameson's { Commonplace Book of Thoughts, 
 Memories, and Fancies.' London, 1854. 
 
 H 2 
 
ioo ANIMALS AND 
 
 subject. Johnson, I see. wishes to read us something 
 from an author who has written very well upon this 
 subject. 
 
 Johnson. It is from Grindon's ' Life : its Nature, 
 Varieties, and Phenomena.' He says : — 
 
 The doctrine of the immortality of brutes is an exceed- 
 ingly ancient one. The Indian, whose blissful heaven con- 
 sists of exhaustless hunting-grounds, does but reflect from 
 the forests of the West what is thousands of years old in the 
 Odyssey : — 'After him I beheld vast Orion, hunting, in the 
 meadows of asphodel, beasts which he had killed in the 
 desert mountains, having a brazen club in his hands, for ever 
 unbroken.' Virgil, in his sixth book, enumerates animals 
 seen by ^Eneas in the kingdom of Pluto ; Hercules, in 
 Theocritus, finishes the narration of his great exploit of 
 slaying the Nemaean lion by saying that * Hades received 
 a monster soul.' 'As brutes,' says Richard Dean, Curate 
 of Middleton in 1768, 'have accompanied man in all his 
 capital calamities (as deluges, famines, and pestilences), so 
 will they attend him in his final deliverance.' Dr. Bar- 
 clay (' Inquiry,' &c, p. 339) pleads that, for aught we know, 
 brutes may be immortal, ' reserved, as forming many of the 
 accustomed links in the chain of being, and by preserving 
 the chain entire, contribute, in the future state, as they do 
 here, to the general beauty and variety of the universe, a 
 source, not only of sublime, but of perpetual delight.' 
 
 Milverton. I must now give you a bit from an old 
 translation of ' Plutarch's Lives.'* It occurs in his life 
 
 * 'Plutarch's Lives,' translated by Sir Thomas North, 
 Knight. London, 161 2. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. ioi 
 
 of that hard man, Marcus Cato, whom the biographer 
 is blaming : — 
 
 For, we see, gentlenesse goeth further than justice. For 
 nature teacheth us to use justice only to slaves, but gentle- 
 nesse sometimes is shewed unto bruite beasts : and that 
 cometh from the very fountaine and spring of all courtesie 
 and humanity, which should never dry up in any man living. 
 For to say truly, to keep cast horses spoiled in our service, 
 and dogs also, not onely when they are whelpes, but when 
 they be old, be even tokens of love and kindness. As the 
 Athenians made a law, when they builded their temple 
 called Hecatompedon ; that they should suffer the moyles and 
 mulets that did service in their carriages about the building 
 of the same, to graze everywhere, without let or trouble of 
 any man. 
 
 Ellesmere. I like the idea of using courtesy to 
 animals. They are very appreciative of politeness, and 
 observant of the reverse. They like to be laughed 
 with, but have a great objection to be laughed at. 
 
 I think I mentioned to you at the beginning of our 
 conversation that I had not been a useless searcher. 
 It was only when I came upon i Berkeley's Querist ' 
 that I ceased to act as a pointer dog for Milverton. 
 Now in Hudibras 
 
 Cranmer. I believe no other human being but 
 Sir John would ever have thought of looking in 
 Hudibras. 
 
 Ellesmere. In Hudibras there is a sly hit at the 
 
102 ANIMALS AND 
 
 sayings of the philosophers, which is exceedingly well 
 
 put : — 
 
 They rode, but authors having not 
 Determin'd whether pace or trot, 
 That is to say, whether tollutation, 
 As they do term't, or succussation, 
 We leave it, and go on, as now 
 Suppose they did, no matter how ; 
 Yet some, from subtle hints have got 
 Mysterious lights it was a trot : 
 But let that pass ; they now begun 
 To spur their living engines on : 
 For as whipp'd tops and bandy'd balls, 
 The learned hold, are animals ; * 
 So horses they affirm to be 
 Mere engines made by geometry, 
 And were invented first from engines, 
 As Indian Britons were from penguins. 
 
 Observe the sly way in which he insinuates that the 
 
 [* The atomic philosophers Democritus, Epicurus, &c, and 
 some of the moderns likewise, as Descartes, Hobbes, and 
 others, will not allow animals to have a spontaneous and 
 living principle in them, but maintain that life and sensation 
 are generated out of matter, from the contexture of atoms, or 
 some peculiar composition of magnitudes, figures, sites and 
 motions, and consequently that they are nothing but local 
 motion and mechanism. By such argument tops and balls 
 seem as much animated as dogs and horses. Mr. Boyle, in 
 his 'Experiments,' printed in 1659, observes how like animals 
 (men excepted) are to mechanical instruments. — Note in the 
 Rev. Dr. NasKs edition of Hudibras^\ 
 
THEIR MASTERS, 103 
 
 same arguments which made animals to be machines, 
 would make whipped tops into animals. 
 
 Cranmer. Did you suggest Hudibras to Ellesmere, 
 Milverton ? 
 
 Elles7nere. Not he : nothing so sensible. He 
 always gave me books that required a constant and 
 humiliating reference to dictionaries. After a certain 
 age, one becomes a little tired of looking into diction- 
 aries. 
 
 I wish you could have seen and heard the insinuat- 
 ing way in which he would endeavour to inflict the most 
 dreadful books upon me. On a fine morning, after 
 breakfast, when I am most radiant, and anybody 
 can get me to do almost anything, he would come up 
 to me and say, c My dear Ellesmere, here is the Trac- 
 tatus Theologico-P oliticus, a work of Spinoza's, one 
 of his best, as the critics say : I dare say you have not 
 read much of Spinoza ' (just as if I had ever read any 
 of him !) ( You will find it very interesting ; and there 
 is sure to be something in it relating to our subject.' 
 
 Well ! what can one say to a man in his own house 
 when one has just been eating his bread and butter ? 
 I felt that I was looking very blank and disheartened. 
 I looked out of the window, too, but the hint was not 
 taken ; and so I went away sorrowfully with my 
 Tractatus to my own room. I read twenty pages of 
 it, but can assure you that there were no three con- 
 
104 ANIMALS AXD 
 
 secutive sentences of which I could thoroughly make 
 out the meaning. So I cast the book down; and, 
 from the love of contrast, took up Hudibras; and 
 there, as you see, I had what boys call < a good find.' 
 
 Milverton. Ellesmere showed me that passage 
 from Hudibras, and I was at first much puzzled to 
 understand what Hudibras meant by using the word 
 1 Penguins.' A passage, however, in a work of Georgq 
 Lewes's, a writer on biology of wonderful clearness and 
 truthfulness, explains the whole thing. And it is well 
 worth quoting for its own sake. 
 
 It is curious to find nun in all ages laying so much stress 
 on a very unimportant peculiarity, and making man's 
 supremacy to consist in a power of gazing upwards, which is 
 shared by every goose that waddles across his path. 
 
 ' L'homme 6\kve un front noble et regarde les cieux ' 
 says Louis Racine, in imitation of Ovid's well-known lines: 
 ' Pronaque cum Spectent animalia camera terram, 
 Os homini sublime dedit, ccelumque tueri 
 Jussit.' 
 
 Galen justly ridicules this notion ; it is, he says, refuted jy 
 the fact that there are fish which always have their eyes 
 directed towards the heavens, and that man can only direct 
 his eyes upwards by bending back his head. As to the 
 erect position, no one till Isidore Geoffroy St. Hilaire thought 
 of the familiar fact that many birds, such as penguins, have 
 the vertical attitude, and some mammals— such as the gerboa 
 and kangaroo— approach it very closely. If the attitude of 
 man is more perfectly erect, this is but a question of degree, 
 not worth making a cardinal distinction. 
 
 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 105 
 
 Sir Arthur. I am sorry to say, Milverton, that 
 you have still failed in explaining the passage in 
 Hudibras. Dr. Nash justly says, that when Hudibras 
 mentioned penguins, he meant to ridicule his friend, 
 Selden, who had a notion that the Welsh had dis- 
 covered America, on account of the similarity of some 
 words in the two languages. ' Penguin, the name of 
 a bird with a white head in America, in British signi- 
 fies a white rock ;' but I am very glad that you quoted 
 the passage from Lewes, because it gives me the op- 
 portunity of mentioning other foolish notions which 
 men have taken up in order to show their infinite 
 superiority to animals. The great Aristotle claims 
 superiority for man because he is ticklish, and the 
 other animals are not, and he puts forth this amazing 
 statement — ' Man, alone, presents the phenomenon of 
 heart-beating, because he, alone, is moved by hope 
 and expectation of what is coming.' 
 
 Milverton. Yes ; and Lew r es makes this good re- 
 mark upon the passage : — i One would fancy that 
 Aristotle had never held a bird in his hand.' 
 
 Ellesmere. Really, I am thankful that I am not a 
 philosopher. If I were, I should be so ashamed of the 
 sayings of a great many of my brother philosophers. 
 
 Milverton, Now to return to the Tractatus Theo- 
 logico-Politicus. Owing to Ellesmere's idleness, I 
 had to look through this book, of the difficulties in 
 
106 ANIMALS AND 
 
 which he speaks in such exaggerated terms, and I 
 found one passage which clearly indicates that Spinoza 
 did not adopt the views of Descartes about animals, for 
 he contrasts animals with automata: — Non, tnquam, 
 ft) lis rcipubliccB est homines ex ratio?ialibus bestias 
 vel ait ton at a faeere, sea 7 eontra ut eornm me?is et 
 corpus tuto suis fu)tctio)iibus fungantur^ et ipsi liberd 
 ratione utautur, et 7ie odio, ira, vel dolo eertejtt, nee 
 an into iniqtto invicem ferantur* 
 
 Ellesntere. I trust we shall now have a little respite 
 from questionable Latin. But we have not yet heard 
 much from Sir Arthur. I expected him to have 
 brought a fearful amount of learned grist to the mill ! 
 
 Sir Arthur. I had prepared a great many pas- 
 sages from the Latin poets, to show their feelings of 
 kindliness towards animals. 
 
 Elles7)terc. I do think we may consider those as 
 read. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I told you, Ellesmere, that I had pre- 
 pared ; meaning to convey to your mind that I did not 
 intend to inflict these passages upon you. After all, 
 they prove but little. One knows beforehand that 
 sensitive men, such as poets are, would be sure to take 
 a kindly view of the animal creation ; and, moreover, 
 that their habits of observation would make them 
 notice the ways of animals, and feel a regard for them. 
 
 * Cap. xx. p. 227. 
 
 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 107 
 
 Milverton is quite right when he says, 'You have 
 only to observe their habits to become fond of them ; ' 
 arid that, by the way, is the reason why I venture to 
 differ a little from Milverton and Petrarch in any pro- 
 test they make against the keeping of pets. 
 
 I must give you one quotation from Lucretius. It 
 is not that it bears closely upon the subject, but because 
 it sounds to me so grand. I particularly admire the 
 word bacchatur, which, as you will hear, occurs in the 
 passage : — 
 
 At novitas mundi nee frigora dura ciebat, 
 Nee nimios sestus, nee magnis viribus auras : 
 Omnia enim pariter crescunt, et robora sumunt. 
 Quare etiam atque etiam maternum nomen adepta 
 Terra tenet merito, quoniam genus ipsa creavit 
 Humanum, atque animal prope certo tempore fudit 
 Omne, quod in magnis bacchatur montibu' passim, 
 Aeriasque simul volucreis variantibu' formis. 
 
 This is Munro's translation: — 
 
 But the early age of the world gave forth neither severe 
 cold, nor extraordinary heat, nor winds of impetuous vio- 
 lence. For all these alike increase and acquire strength by 
 ti?ne. 
 
 For which cause, / say again and again, the earth has 
 justly acquired, and justly retains, the name of mother, 
 since she herself brought forth the race of men, and pro- 
 duced, at this certain time, almost every kind of animal 
 which exults over the vast mountains, and the birds of the 
 air, at the same period, with all their varied forms. 
 
108 ANIMALS AND 
 
 I said just now that the poets were sure to speak 
 
 kindly of animals ; but when a man was a poet and a 
 
 Pythagorean too, it was doubly incumbent upon him 
 
 to promote a merciful feeling towards animals. I find 
 
 that Xenophanes, as translated by Mr. Edwin Arnold 
 
 in his ' Poets of Greece/ says : — 
 
 Going abroad, he saw one day a hound was beaten sore ; 
 Whereat his heart grew pitiful : * Now beat the hound no 
 
 more ! 
 Give o'er thy cruel blows,' he cried ; * a man's soul verily 
 Is lodged in that same crouching beast — I know him by 
 
 the cry. : 
 
 ?* 
 
 Ellesmere. I think we have got off very easily from 
 the weight of Latin poetry which Sir Arthur would 
 have poured out upon us with that rotund utterance 
 which scholars delight in, dwelling upon each word as 
 if it were a pleasure and an honour to utter it. 
 
 Milverton. I am now going to take you far away 
 from the Romans to David Hume. In his essays, 
 there is. a section entitled * Of the Reason of Animals/ 
 He gives instances of the sagacity of animals, and 
 says : — 
 
 A horse that has been accustomed to the field, becomes 
 acquainted with the proper height which he can leap, and 
 
 * Kal irore /jlli/ (Trv^eXi^o/xevov <TKv\aKo^ irapiSvra 
 <pao\v iiroLKTelpai Kal r6de (fxiaOai eiros' 
 Tiavcrai /xrjSe pdiri^' , iirei^ (piKov avepos £(Tt\ 
 tyvX^ T V tyvuv (p9ey^aiji4vr}s atoop. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 109 
 
 will never attempt what exceeds his force and ability. An 
 old greyhound will trust the more fatiguing part of the chase 
 to the younger, and will place himself so as to meet the hare 
 in her doubles ; nor are the conjectures which he forms on 
 this occasion founded in anything but his observation and 
 experience. 
 
 But then Hume will not allow you to say that this 
 sagacity results from a conclusion that 'like events 
 must follow like objects, and that the course of nature 
 must always be regular in its operations/ 
 
 On the contrary, he says : — 
 
 Animals, therefore, are not guided in these inferences by 
 reasoning : neither are children ; neither are the generality 
 of mankind in their ordinary actions and conclusions ; neither 
 are philosophers themselves, who, in all the active parts of 
 life, are in the main the same with the vulgar, and are 
 governed by the same maxims. Nature must have provided 
 some other principle, of more ready and more general use 
 and application ; nor can an operation of such immense 
 consequence in life as that of inferring effects from causes, 
 be trusted to the uncertain process of reasoning and argu- 
 mentation. 
 
 Now this appears to me to be a most sensible way 
 of looking at the matter. I confess I had never 
 thought of it in this way before. What Hume means 
 by ' some other principle * may be seen from the 
 following sentence which occurs at another part of 
 the essay : — 
 
 It seems evident that animals, as well as men, learn 
 many things from experience, and infer that the same events 
 
no ANIMALS AND 
 
 will always follow from the same causes. By this principle 
 they become acquainted with the more obvious properties of 
 external objects, and gradually, from their birth, treasure 
 up a knowledge of the nature of fire, water, earth, stones, 
 heights, depths, &c, and the effects which result from their 
 operation. 
 
 Ellesmere. I really think this is excellent. What 
 a relief it is to come from the wiredrawn nonsense of 
 Seneca, Thomas Aquinas, and Descartes, to the broad 
 common sense of this thoughtful Scotchman ! Now 
 Milverton never gave me such an author as Hume to 
 study. I should have been sure to have noted these 
 passages. 
 
 Milverton. Now shall I leave off? I am afraid of 
 wearying you with these quotations; but I am desirous 
 of bringing before you a great body of evidence, to 
 show what have been the thoughts of remarkable men, 
 for many ages, respecting the nature and treatment of 
 animals. And I have still a good deal more to bring 
 forward on this subject. 
 
 Ellesmere. I am for leaving off. My mind is one 
 that soon becomes tired of much contemplation. I 
 decline, for instance, to see more than six pictures at 
 a time in any gallery. I shall give much more atten- 
 tion to the subject if you will humour my proneness to 
 intellectual fatigue. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I confess I should wish to go on. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. in 
 
 I like to have a great quantity of evidence brought 
 before me at once ; and I have no doubt, Cranmer 
 would too ; but we must humour this spoilt child, 
 Ellesmere, and so you, Milverton, must stop for the 
 present 
 
U2 ANIMALS AA T D 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The conversation was thus resumed on the 
 following morning : — 
 
 Cranmer. Have you not often remarked that when 
 one has any particular subject in one's thoughts, that 
 subject seems to be brought up on all occasions ? It 
 seems almost as if it was in the air that surrounded 
 you. Of course, this is an utter delusion. It is 
 merely that one's attention is aroused to everything 
 that is said by anybody bearing upon the subject. 
 
 Ellesmere. Observe, how afraid Cranmer is of ad- 
 mitting, that there is anything magical or mysterious 
 in the world. Now I, being of a romantic and poeti- 
 cal nature, believe that Cranmer is so deeply im- 
 pressed with the subject we are discussing, that a 
 certain sense of it radiates from him unconsciously, 
 and affects all the people who come within the sphere 
 of influence of that magnetic mind. Now, go on? 
 Cranmer. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 113 
 
 Cranmer. Well, when I left you the other day, I 
 was thinking over our subject, when suddenly a gen- 
 tleman in the train said that he had been witness to a 
 great instance of cruelty to living creatures, which 
 had been brought under his notice at a station on the 
 railway. He said that he was a member of that excel- 
 lent Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, 
 and had communicated with them upon the subject. 
 I asked him to give me a written statement of the 
 facts he had observed. Here it is, I will read it to you: — 
 
 At seven o'clock on the night of the 7th inst. thirty- six 
 boxes of live geese arrived at Waterloo Station from St. 
 
 Malo, via Southampton, consigned to Mr. , Leadenhall 
 
 Market. Each box appeared to be three feet four inches 
 long, two feet wide, and sixteen inches deep; and all were 
 made of rough jagged-edged deal planks, left with openings 
 between each plank at the top and sides. In every box, so 
 far as I could tell, from nine to twelve geese were huddled 
 together so closely that none could move except by trampling 
 one over another ; or by getting a neck, head, or wing out 
 of one of the openings. Some of the geese were screaming, 
 many were lying down with heads and necks extended, 
 seemingly quite exhausted ; several were dead. I could 
 count three, but believe there must have been more, the 
 boxes being so placed in a mass on the platform that* I could 
 only examine closely those that were outermost. 
 
 It was painful to see heads, necks, and wings protruding 
 from the boxes, so firmly fixed in openings that moderate 
 force could not remove them. But it was still more painful 
 to see how eagerly those geese which could get their heads 
 out freely drank up some water the porters sprinkled on the 
 
 I 
 
Ii 4 ANIMALS AND 
 
 boxes. The geese were so crowded together it would have 
 been impossible to give them either food or water in the 
 boxes, and I greatly fear they must have been left in them all 
 night, as there was no preparation for their removal when I 
 left at twenty minutes past eleven. I could not learn how 
 long they had been in the boxes. 
 
 Now, isn't this shocking ! 
 
 Mrs. Milverton. Abominable. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. It is all very well to speak scorn- 
 fully of us women ; but I do seriously think, that if 
 we had more voice in the management of affairs, these 
 things which you call minor matters would be very 
 differently managed. Say what you like, we are more 
 humane. To feel deeply for these creatures is just the 
 sort of thing that many men would laugh at, and call it 
 sentimental, and a spurious kind of humanity, merely 
 because the creatures are not big. 
 
 Eliesviere. Please don't include me among the 
 naughty men whom you condemn. I detest cruelty to 
 any creature, whether big or little. But now, Milver- 
 ton, comes the difficult question of what ought to be 
 done in this case. You can't well attempt to legislate 
 upon th*e subject of geese. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I am not prepared to admit that. We 
 do legislate about other birds. 
 
 Milverton. Yes ; there would come that foolish 
 ridicule which the Scripture likens to i the crackling 
 of thorns under a pot ' ; and I doubt, Sir Arthur, 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 115 
 
 whether even your eloquence, backed by Cranmer's 
 skill and perseverence, could get a Bill on the subject 
 of geese through Parliament. 
 
 First, however, I must ask Cranmer whether he 
 will admit that, according to the supreme laws of po- 
 litical economy, we may interfere. 
 
 Cranmer. Of course I do. It is really a shame 
 always to fix upon me some extravagant interpretation 
 of these laws. 
 
 Milverton. Well, then, I will tell you how I should 
 propose to deal with such a matter. I, myself, think 
 nothing small that is inhuman, but I own to you that 
 I have a great fear of the damage that ridicule might 
 do to any proposed legislation, which should have for 
 its object, directly, the improvement of transit for the 
 smaller creatures. I know as well as possible, that 
 even our present discussions would be carped at on 
 account of their being chiefly devoted to humanity to 
 animals. People would say, i Are there not enormous 
 grievances which affect the higher creatures of crea- 
 tion, and had you not better attack these grievances 
 first ? ' Well, in former days we used to discuss the 
 subject of slavery, and I am sure we have discussed 
 enough the subject of war. On the present occasion 
 we forsake mankind for the moment, and endeavour to 
 say something for those poor creatures that can say 
 nothing for themselves. 
 
 1 2 
 
Ii6 ANIMALS AND 
 
 Ellesmere. But what is your plan, Milverton? 
 How would you legislate so as to check the inhumanity 
 in question ? 
 
 Milverton. I want the whole subject of the transit 
 of living creatures to be reconsidered. Nothing in 
 this world is an unmixed benefit. The increased fa- 
 cility of locomotion by railway has introduced new 
 elements of difficulty into the whole question. 
 
 How I should endeavour to meet this particular 
 case, is by the adoption of some general rules, similar 
 to those which have been introduced into the Passen- 
 gers' Act, 1855, an d subsequent Acts, with relation to 
 the transit of human beings. Don't let us talk about 
 ducks, or geese, or any such small fry ; but let us con- 
 tend for a provision of this kind — that in all cases of 
 transit of living creatures a certain space should be 
 allowed, bearing some proportion to the size of the 
 creatures respectively. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. Such a provision, although no 
 doubt, a very good thing, will not alone satisfy me, 
 Leonard. The form given to the means of conveyance 
 must also be considered. Now, in this very case, it is 
 evident that these poor birds suffered greatly on account 
 of that form being most inappropriate. What a car- 
 go of animal suffering this was, that your friend in the 
 railway spoke of, Mr. Cranmer ! It horrifies one to 
 think sometimes of what other creatures are suffering 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 117 
 
 while we are sleeping. Imagine their nights of suffer- 
 ing ! Think only of one thing, the want of water ! ! 
 Now, Leonard, if you have any regulations for the 
 transit of animals, due supply of water must, indeed, 
 be one of them. 
 
 Ellesmere, I wish we could delegate to women 
 some of this work. I should approve of this more 
 than of their contending with me in the Queen's 
 Bench, which at last, I suppose, they will insist upon. 
 
 Milverton, I am going to say something rather 
 rough and strong ; but I must say it. People talk 
 of our being damned for this and that, using the 
 word damnation very freely. I sometimes tnmk, when 
 I meet with, or hear of, these cases of cruelty, that 
 what we men run a risk of being damned for, is for our 
 barbarity to these creatures who have been given into 
 our complete dominion, and for our conduct to whom 
 we shall be fearfully answerable. 
 
 Sir Arthur, Now, Milverton, after this long 
 episode, I think we shall return with greater zest to 
 your quotations from sundry authors, seeing that from 
 this instance, which Cranmer has brought before us, 
 there is pressing need for the inculcation of humanity 
 to animals from whatever source we can derive it. 
 
 Milverton, The next author from whom I shall 
 quote is Lord Brougham. His ' Dialogues on Instinct' 
 is a remarkable book if only for its research, con- 
 
n8 ANIMALS AND 
 
 sidering that it was written in 1837, when he was an 
 active politician. 
 
 Althorp. I can well suppose a difference merely in 
 degree, sufficient to explain any diversity of condition or 
 result. We have only to compare individual men together 
 to perceive this. It is admitted that reason, nay, that the 
 power of forming abstract ideas, as well as drawing inferences 
 from premises, is possessed by persons whom yet you shall 
 in vain attempt to teach the simplest mathematical demon- 
 stration. Then their faculties differ only in degree from 
 those by which Pascal learnt geometry without a master or a 
 book, and Newton discovered Fluxions, and Lagrange and 
 Euler the Calculus of Variations. It may truly be said, that 
 there is no difference in kind which could make a greater 
 diversity in the result. 
 
 Brougham. It may indeed be truly so said ; but it may 
 also be added, that there is not a greater difference, call it in 
 kind or in degree, between the person whose obtuseness you 
 have supposed and a sagacious retriever, or a clever ape, 
 than between the great mathematicians you have named and 
 that same person. Locke, whose calmness of understanding 
 was equal to his sagacity, and never allowed his judgment 
 to be warped by prejudice, or carried away by fancy and 
 feelings, seems to have held this opinion, and indeed to have 
 allowed some reason to animals. 'There are some brutes,' 
 he observes, ' that seem to have as much knowledge and 
 reason as some that are called men ;' and he goes on to say, 
 that there is such a connexion between the animal and vege- 
 table kingdom, as makes the difference scarcely perceptible 
 between the lowest of the one and the highest of the 
 other. * 
 
 * Dialogues on Instinct \ p. 141, edit, of 1844. 
 
I 
 
 THEIR MASTERS, 119 
 
 I must, however, take a strong objection to the course 
 of his argument, or rather, to one of the main facts on 
 which it rests. I do not believe that anyone who has 
 ' the power of forming abstract ideas, as well as draw- 
 ing inferences from premises ' could not be taught the 
 simplest mathematical demonstration. 
 
 It was an odd thing, Cranmer, that you should have 
 thought of Search's ' Light of Nature Pursued ' being 
 the book that Ellesmere was so delighted with, and 
 scolded me for not having shown him before. This 
 ' Light of Nature Pursued/* which was written by a 
 certain Abraham Tucker, does contain some remark- 
 able passages bearing upon our subject. I shall give 
 you one now, omitting certain parts of it, which, how- 
 ever, I hope you will be industrious enough to read 
 afterwards. You are quite right, Cranmer, in thinking 
 that it is the kind of book that Ellesmere would take 
 a great fancy to. 
 
 Upon occasion of the divine care extendirg to the 
 smallest things, I shall venture to put in a word on behalf of 
 our younger brethren of the brutal species : yet it is with 
 fear and trepidation, lest I should offend the delicacy of our 
 imperial race, who may think it treason against their high 
 pre-eminence and dignity, to raise a doubt of their engross- 
 ing the sole care of heaven Since then, as well 
 
 by God's special injunctions as by His ordinary Providence, 
 
 * Tucker's Light of Nature Pursued, vol. 5, part 3, chap. 
 19, edit, of 1777. 
 
120 ANIMALS AND 
 
 he calls upon the creatures for their labours, their sufferings, and 
 their lives, in the progress of His great work of the Redemp- 
 tion, why should we think it an impeachment of His equity, 
 if He assigns them wages for all they undergo in this im- 
 portant service ? Or an impeachment of His power and His 
 wisdom, if such wages accrue to them by certain stated 
 laws of universal nature running through both worlds. 
 
 In what manner the compensation is operated would be 
 needless and impossible to ascertain : perhaps they stand 
 only one stage behind us in the journey through matter, and 
 as we hope to rise from sensitivo-rational creatures to purely 
 rational, so they may be advanced from sensitive to sen- 
 sitivo-rational. And when our nature is perfected, we may 
 be employed to act as guardian angels for assisting them in 
 the improvement of their new faculties, becoming lords, and 
 not tyrants, of our new world, and exercising government by 
 employing our superior skill and power for the benefit of the 
 governed : by which way may be comprehended how they 
 may have an interest of their own in everything relative to 
 the forwarding of our Redemption. Yet it is not necessary 
 they must have bodies shaped, limbed,' and sized exactly 
 like ours : for the treasures of wisdom are not so scanty that 
 we should pronounce with Epicurus, there can be no spice of 
 reason or reflection, except in a human figure, and upon the 
 surface of an earth circumstanced just like this we inhabit. 
 
 We cut rather short our quotations from the poets on 
 the assumption that, as men of sensibility, they would 
 be sure to be on our side. I think, however, that when 
 they have indulged in prose, and when they have 
 devoted whole essays to the subject of the treatment 
 of animals, they deserve to be quoted. Now the poet 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 121 
 
 Pope has written such an essay. It is in the 61st 
 number of the Guardian of the year 1713. It is a 
 beautiful essay, and is admirably written, affording 
 another instance of how well poets can write in 
 prose when they condescend to do so. He commences 
 thus : — 
 
 I cannot think it extravagant to imagine that mankind are 
 no less in proportion accountable for the ill-use of their 
 dominion over creatures of the lower rank of beings, than 
 for the exercise of tyranny over their own species. The 
 more entirely the inferior creation is submitted to our power, 
 the more answerable we should seem for our mismanagement 
 of it ; and the rather, as the very condition of nature renders 
 these creatures incapable of receiving any recompense in 
 another life for their ill-treatment in this. 
 
 He then enters very carefully into the subject, giving 
 various instances of needless cruelty in man; and 
 supporting his own views by reference to those of 
 Montaigne, Locke, the Abbe* Fleury, Plutarch, Tellia- 
 med. whose real name was De Maillet, Ovid, Dryden, 
 and Pilpay. One other extract of his own writing 
 I must give you. 
 
 There is a passage in the book of Jonas, where God 
 declares his lurwillingness to destroy Nineveh, where methinks 
 that compassion of the Creator, which extends to the meanest 
 rank of his creatures, is expressed with wonderful tenderness. 
 * Should I not spare Nineveh, that great city, wherein are 
 more than six score thousand persons . . . and also much 
 cattle ? ' And we have in Deuteronomy a precept of great 
 
< 
 
 122 ANIMALS AND 
 
 good-nature of this sort, with a blessing in form, annexed 
 to it, in those words ; ' If thou shalt find a bird's nest in 
 the way, thou shalt not take the dam with the young : But 
 thou shalt in any wise let the dam go ; that it may be well 
 with thee, and that thou may'st prolong thy days.' 
 
 As I have referred to the essayists of former days, 
 I must give you a passage from an essay written by 
 the tender-hearted Steele. In the course of the essay? 
 he objects to any representation of cruelties being 
 produced upon the stage ; and thus concludes : 
 
 The virtues of tenderness, compassion, and humanity are 
 those by which men are distinguished from brutes, as much 
 as by reason itself; and it would be the greatest reproach to 
 a nation, to distinguish itself from all others by any defect in 
 these particular virtues. For which reasons, I hope that my 
 dear countrymen will no longer expose themselves by an 
 effusion of blood, whether it be of theatrical heroes, cocks, 
 or any other innocent animals, which we are not obliged to 
 slaughter for our safety, convenience, or nourishment. When 
 any of these ends are not served in the destruction of a living 
 creature, I cannot but pronounce it a great piece of cruelty, 
 if not a kind of murder. * 
 
 Mrs. Milverton. I think I may now venture, as the 
 quotations have been less learned lately, to ask leave to 
 read a passage from the life of my favourite author, 
 George Herbert, written by Isaac Walton. 
 
 Ellesmere. I am not sure that I shall not take an 
 
 * Tatter, No. 134. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 123 
 
 objection, Mrs. Milverton, to anything that has been 
 written by Isaac Walton. I do not like that man, and 
 I think that Byron was not too severe when he called 
 him ' a cruel coxcomb/ 
 
 Milverton. That does not impeach the value of his 
 evidence as a biographer. 
 
 Mrs. Milverton. Certainly not ; at any rate you 
 must let me read you the passage. 
 
 In another walk to Salisbury, he saw a poor man with a 
 poorer horse that was fallen under his load ; they were both 
 in distress, and needed present help, which Mr. Herbert 
 perceiving, put off hid canonical coat, and helped the poor 
 man to unload, and after to load, his horse. The poor man 
 blessed him for it, and he blessed the poor man ; and was so 
 like the good Samaritan that he gave him money to refresh 
 both himself and his horse ; and told him, ' that if he loved 
 himself, he should be merciful to his beast.' Thus he left 
 the poor man, and at his coming to his musical friends at 
 Salisbury, they began to wonder that Mr. George Herbert, 
 who used to be so trim and clean, came into that company 
 so soiled and discomposed, but he told them the occasion : 
 and when one of the company told him ' he had disparaged 
 himself by so dirty an employment,' his answer was J that the 
 thought of what he had done would prove music to him at 
 midnight ; and that the omission of it would have upbraided 
 and made discord in his conscience whensoever he should pass 
 by that place : for if I be bound to pray for all that be in 
 distress, I am sure that I am bound, so far as it is in 
 my power, to practise what I pray for. And though I 
 do not wish for the like occasion every day, yet let me 
 tell you, I would not willingly pass one day of my life 
 
124 ANIMALS AND 
 
 without comforting a sad soul, or shewing mercy, and I 
 praise God for this occasion. And now let us tune our in- 
 struments. '* 
 
 Milvei'ton. When I was quoting from the life of St. 
 Francis, I ought to have given you a remarkable ex- 
 tract from a work which I am told had great au- 
 thority in the middle ages. It is ' The Revelations of 
 St. Bridget.' This book was attacked by the celebrated 
 Gerson, but was formally approved by the Council of 
 Basle. Here is the passage : — 
 
 Let a man fear, above all, me, his God, and so much the 
 gentler will he become towards my creatures and animals, on 
 whom, on account of me, their Creator, he ought to have 
 compassion ; for to that end was rest ordained for them on 
 the Sabbath, f 
 
 Lady Ellesinere. I wonder, Leonard, that you have 
 not given us anything from the Spaniards, who are 
 such great favourites of yours. 
 
 Milverton. I could have given you many quotations 
 from the great Spanish writers, including Cervantes, 
 for you must remember both Don Quixote and Sancho 
 Panza had a great regard for animals. 
 
 But, to tell you the truth, I was a little disgusted by 
 my research into Spanish authorities, at finding that it 
 was a Spaniard, one Gomez Pereira, who, in con> 
 
 * Remains of George Herbert. Life; p. 65. 
 + Digbfs Comfotum. Book ii. p. 57. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 125 
 
 paratively modern times — that is, before the age of 
 Descartes — had devoted a work to announcing the 
 discovery that animals had no feeling. Indeed, it is 
 said that Descartes borrowed his ideas from this man; 
 but that is a fable. It was entirely consonant with 
 Descartes' metaphysical theories that he should main- 
 tain that animals had no feeling. And what will a 
 man not do, or say, to maintain intact his pet meta- 
 physical theory, which is to explain all the conditions 
 of the universe ? 
 
 Sir Arthur. How one's views change as regards 
 who is terrible, who is to be feared in this world. 
 Time was, when I innocently thought that the descrip- 
 tion given by the great German poet, Uhland, of a 
 wicked king, brought before my mind the most 
 dangerous being that could well be conceived : — 
 
 £)enn wae er ftnnt/ tft ©cfyrecfen 5 tmb wag er bltytt tft 
 
 2£ut*) 5 
 Unb wag er ft rid) t/ tft @etfkl$ unb wag er fcfymbt, tji 
 
 S3(ut. 
 
 For what he thinks, is horror; and what he looks, is 
 
 wrath ; 
 And what he speaks, is scourges ; and what he writes, is 
 
 blood. 
 
 But now a much more fearful creature to my mind 
 is a ' hidebound' pedant in power (perhaps in other 
 respects a smooth, kind, good sort of man), cursed 
 
126 ANIMALS AND 
 
 with a few distinct ideas, whether they relate to re- 
 ligion, education, charity, taxation, or any other matter 
 which greatly concerns the welfare of mankind. That 
 is the man really to be feared — the man who is capable 
 of doing the greatest mischief in his generation. And 
 even if he is not in power, but has great intellectual 
 influence, he is still a most alarming phenomenon. 
 
 Ellesmere. Especially if he is not given to admitting 
 any exceptions. But to return to Spain. My lady did 
 not appeal to me about Spanish authorities, though 
 she knows that when I was a juvenile I travelled with 
 Milverton in Spain, and that I am completely versed 
 in Spanish literature. 
 
 Allow me to give you a Spanish song relating to 
 animals, which I often heard my muleteers sing. It 
 begins with the words — 
 
 Mi muger y mi caballo — 
 
 6 My wife and my horse.' It proceeds by enumerating 
 their respective merits. It then goes on to say what a 
 great loss it would be if he, the singer, were to lose 
 one of these creatures, and what a small loss it would 
 be if he were to lose the other, which could so easily 
 be replaced. I forbear to say which is ' the one ' and 
 which is ( the other.' 
 
 Hereupon there ensued one of those conjugal 
 quarrels of a humorous kind which have so often 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 127 
 
 taken place in our presence between this well- 
 assorted couple j and, amidst the general laughter 
 of the company, the sitting was about to be broken 
 up. when Sir Arthur begged to be heard. 
 
 Sir Arthur. You all know what a liking I have — ■ 
 almost a mania — for sesing what conclusions we have 
 arrived at after any discussion. Of course we are all 
 against that absurd theory of Descartes, that animals 
 have no feeling. We will not listen to Seneca and 
 the 'Angelic Doctor' when they maintain that animals 
 cannot indulge in a feeling of anger which is similar 
 to our own, or that they are incapable not merely of 
 affection but of what we call benevolence. We are 
 agreed upon the statements that they have keen 
 memories (as keen, Milverton holds, as that of the 
 late Lord Macaulay, which I take to be somewhat of 
 an exaggeration) ; that many of them are highly 
 sensitive creatures ; that this sensitiveness, which is 
 often a very disturbing force to their masters, must be 
 dealt with by kindness and not by blows; that, accord- 
 ing to Cranmer, the education of young people is not 
 to be without some definite instruction as to the nature 
 of animals, and as to the best modes of treating them. 
 We hear, with some approval, that Sir John Ellesmere 
 says, that animals have a lively appreciation of fun 
 and courtesy. By the way, if they were dull creatures, I 
 
128 ANIMALS AND 
 
 am afraid that Sir John would not speak quite so affec- 
 tionately of them. We find that the poets, and all 
 men of sensibility, rate animals highly, and are fond of 
 them. We are inclined to agree with Milverton, Voltaire, 
 Mrs. Jameson, and sundry other persons, who say that 
 they do not care so much about what animals think, 
 but that what they suffer is the question. Lastly, we 
 are pleased to hear, without pledging ourselves to an 
 exact approval of details, that Milverton puts forward 
 certain plans and projects for the better treatment of 
 animals, having in view that their owners should be 
 better informed about their habits, and that these 
 owners should have the opportunity of learning how 
 their deputies and hirelings treat the animals entrusted 
 to their care ; that great heed should be taken as re- 
 gards the transit of animals used for food, both on 
 their account and our own ; that the keeping of pets 
 should be discouraged (against which doctrine I for 
 one enter a protest) ; and, generally, that the observa- 
 tion of the habits, ways, and manners of animals 
 would lead to a much more friendly relation being 
 kept up between that first of animals, man, and the 
 rest of the animated creation. 
 
 Have I not given you something like a summary of 
 the case ? Oh ! I forgot to mention that Sir John 
 Ellesmere thinks that, if there were such a thing as 
 transmigration, all women would be butterflies ; and 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 129 
 
 that he declines to say, touching a certain Spanish 
 song, whether it was the death of the horse, or of the 
 wife, which would be the greater loss to the muleteer. 
 Again I have forgotten to say that the dicta of 
 Anaxagoras, Xenophanes, and David Hume passed 
 with the least question from this intelligent company. 
 Milverion. I desire to say something more, which 
 I especially wish to be added to your summary. 
 
 I can hardly express to you how much I feel 
 there is to be thought of, arising from the use of 
 the word l dumb ' as applied to animals. Dumb 
 animals ! What an immense exhortation that is to 
 pity ! It is a remarkable thing, that this word dumb 
 should have been so largely applied to animals, for, in 
 reality, there are very few dumb animals. But, doubt- 
 less, the word is often used to convey a larger idea than 
 that of dumbness, namely, the want of power in animals 
 to convey by sound to mankind what they feel, or 
 perhaps I should rather say the want of power in 
 men to understand the meaning of the various sounds 
 uttered by animals. 
 
 But as regards those animals which are mostly dumb, 
 such as the horse, which, except on rare occasions of 
 extreme suffering, makes no sound at all, but only 
 expresses pain by certain movements indicating pain 
 — how tender we ought to be to them, and how obser- 
 vant of these movements, considering their dumbness ! 
 
 K 
 
130 ANIMALS AND 
 
 The human baby guides and governs us by its cries. 
 In fact, it will nearly rule a household by these cries ; 
 and woe would betide it, if it had not this power of 
 making its afflictions known. It is a sad thing to re- 
 flect upon, that the animal, which has most to endure 
 from man, is the one which has the least power of 
 protesting by noise against any of his evil treatment. 
 
 Ellesmere. There is one thing to be said in favour 
 of the dumbness of animals. If they could talk, it would 
 probably be only the talk of foolish men and women. 
 As it is, we give animals credit for an amount of 
 good sense, which credit they might easily lose if they 
 had the talking faculties. 
 
 Manleverer. Considering that you profess to be 
 such a friend to animals, Ellesmere, I do not think it is 
 very friendly on your part to conjecture that they would 
 talk nonsense if they could talk at all. 
 
 Elles77iere. Yes, it is wrong of me to calumniate 
 them in this way. I'm sure I ought to be grateful to 
 animals, for it is owing to my defence of an animal 
 that I am tolerated here. Milverton and I were boys 
 together at school, but I do not know that we had any 
 particular affection ^for each other; and, to tell the 
 truth, I am not sure that I am exactly the sort of 
 person whom Milverton would have chosen as a friend. 
 Underlying a thin upper surface of apparent toleration 
 and readiness to hear what everyone would like to say 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 131 
 
 on any subject, there is a certain real dislike to opposi- 
 tion in a certain quarter ; and affection will not flow 
 out to you from that quarter, if you continue reso- 
 lutely to maintain that opposition. 
 
 Milverton. Most unjust ! But go on with your 
 story, for I do not know to what you are alluding. 
 
 Ellesmere. Why, the fight we had with those three 
 town boys. 
 
 Milverton and I agreed to go out on a half-holiday 
 with a leaping pole, to a place called Chalvey Ditch. 
 1 was to leap, and he was to look on, for he was never 
 much given to athletic pursuits. 
 
 When we came to that renowned ditch, we found 
 three i town-boys/ each of them bigger than either of 
 us, who were passing their time in the delicate and 
 humane amusement of drowning a cat by degrees. 
 Poor pussy had a collar on, to which was tied a 
 piece of string. She was occasionally thrown into the 
 water and dragged out again, for joys of this kind are 
 not to be consummated quickly. Educate these ruf- 
 fians, Cranmer ! Educate them ; write the book you 
 and Sir Arthur threatened the world with J 
 
 Well, Milverton, as you might expect, began reason- 
 ing with the boys ; talking to them like a Dutch uncle 
 (I wonder what that expression means) about their 
 cruelty. 
 
 K 2 
 
 

 
 132 ANIMALS AND 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. Do get on with your story, John. 
 Parentheses are odious. 
 
 Elles7nere. The effect produced upon the 'town boys' 
 by Master Milverton's discourse was infinitesimally 
 small. What little effect it had, was, I think, to increase 
 their enjoyment. We then tried what money would 
 do, and offered the whole of our combined fortune 
 (one shilling and threepence halfpenny, if I recollect 
 rightly) for the purchase of the cat. This offer was 
 persistently refused. If it had been half-a-crown, we 
 were given to understand, it would have been accepted. 
 Lady Ellesmere will forgive me for the parenthesis ; 
 but I must observe that one and twopence halfpenny 
 divided by three seems to be the precise sum 
 which, in the boyish mind, would turn the balance 
 from cruelty to avarice. Anyhow, it was not so on 
 that occasion. 
 
 Milverton looked expressively at me. That expres- 
 sive look was fully equivalent to any one of the 
 speeches which Homer's heroes make before com- 
 mencing battle. He then uttered the formidable word 
 Nunc, rushed at the boy nearest him, who went 
 over into the ditch, which was pretty full of water. I 
 hit the boy who had hold "of the cat as hard a blow as 
 I could in the face, and kept ' pegging away/ to use a 
 presidential expression, with all my might. He soon 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 133 
 
 dropped the cat. and did not seem inclined for further 
 battle. Both of us then attacked the third boy, who 
 had hitherto been a passive spectator ; but he was a 
 coward, and took to his heels at once. I clutched up 
 the cat, Milverton the leaping pole, and off we went 
 with our prize. After Milverton's antagonist had got 
 out of the ditch, we were hotly pursued. The country 
 round about is intersected with ditches, and the leap- 
 ing pole was of great use to us. Home we came 
 gloriously, and brought the cat to our Dame. It turned 
 out to be the pet cat of a neighbouring Dame, who re- 
 warded us with a bottle of currant wine and twelve 
 twopenny gooseberry tarts. 
 
 I have not indulged much in currant wine since, 
 but gooseberry tarts have a wonderful attraction for 
 me to this day ; and when I do but see a gooseberry 
 tart, the glories of the past come back upon my soul, 
 I scent battle from afar, and feel like one of Ossian's 
 heroes. 
 
 Milverton took to me amazingly ever afterwards, 
 was always ready to give me two or three sentences 
 for the weekly Latin theme ; and here I am, snugly 
 ensconced in this house, owing my not altogether un- 
 favourable reception chiefly, I believe, to my ready 
 backing of my friend in this encounter with the town 
 boys. I must own that the ditch was greatly in our 
 
134 ANIMALS AND 
 
 favour, for Milverton was never good at fisticuff work, 
 and we should have been ignominiously thrashed but 
 for his having the bright thought of making his 
 antagonist — not bite the dust of the plain — but imbibe 
 the muddy waters of the Chalvey. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 135 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 After the conversation given in the preceding 
 Chapter, we all went out for a row upon the 
 neighbouring lake, which Sir John Ellesmere, to 
 the great annoyance of Mr. Milverton, would 
 always call ' the pond/ although* it consists of nine 
 acres of water, and was even put down in the 
 -county maps as ' a lake.' 
 
 While we were upon the lake, conversation 
 was resumed. I could not well take note of all 
 that was said, being employed at first as one of the 
 rowers ; but when I was permitted to be a sitter, I 
 succeeded in making some notes, the most im- 
 portant of which were as follows : — 
 
 Mauleverer. The last vessel I was in, was of a 
 somewhat different description from this. A few 
 weeks ago I went over one of our first-rate ironclads 
 at Portsmouth. I had not been in any great vessel 
 for many years ; indeed, my previous experience of 
 
136 ANIMALS AND 
 
 warlike craft was that which I gained in going over 
 the ' Duke of Wellington/ when she was first com- 
 missioned. 
 
 If you have not seen any of our more recent men- 
 of-war, you can hardly imagine the extraordinary 
 strides made in scientific inventions applicable to 
 naval warfare. Everywhere throughout the vessel, 
 even in the most trifling matters, there is amazing 
 ingenuity shown. I felt almost suffocated with con- 
 tempt for myself and my species, when I contemplated 
 this ingenuity. The vast absurdity of mankind rose 
 up before me in a more visible and trenchant manner 
 than it had ever done before. 
 
 Ellesmere. What an anti-climax ! I really thought 
 that Mauleverer, after admiring something, was pro- 
 ceeding, however painful the process might be to him, 
 to admire somebody. 
 
 Mauleverer. I thought of the squalid streets and 
 miserable alleys in which so large a portion of our 
 town population dwells. I thought of the mean hovels 
 in which many of our peasantry abide. I thought — 
 it may be a commonplace way of thinking — of how 
 clever we are in slaughter, and how stupid in self- 
 preservation, and in maintaining the real dignity of 
 man by beautiful modes of living. My contempt was 
 universal. It involved all Europe — the most civilized 
 portion of the globe, as we fondly call it — in its com- 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 137 
 
 prehensiveness ; and, finally, I thought of Schiller's 
 grand saying, 'The world's history is the condemna- 
 tion of the world.' * 
 
 Milverton. I should fully sympathise with you if 
 you would strike out the word 'contempt/ and use 
 some such word as sorrow, instead. 
 
 Sir Arthur. What horrifies me is, that certain pro- 
 ceedings, which have taken place of late years, make 
 our future prospects of peace so doubtful. I do not 
 believe that a greater error in high statesmanship 
 could well have been committed than by imposing 
 huge pecuniary fines upon conquered nations. 
 
 Cranmer. I can't agree with you. These fines are 
 restraints. 
 
 Sir Arthur. That, my dear Cranmer, is, I fear, 
 but a shallow view of the case, and one which, to the 
 best of my belief, history does not bear out. Nations 
 are not prevented from going to war by poverty. 
 
 Milverton. I cannot call those men great states- 
 men who adopt such remedies for keeping peace. I 
 picture to myself what the greatest minds who have 
 given themselves to statesmanship would have said of 
 such transactions. How foreign they would have been 
 to the plans of a Bacon or a Machiavelli. 
 
 Ellesmere. Yes ; the virtuous Machiavelli, whom 
 
 * £)te 2Beltgcfd)id)te iff t>a$ SKeltgmdjt. 
 
138 ANIMALS AND 
 
 Milverton so much admires, would have said, ' Slay as 
 many of your enemies as you like, but do not im- 
 poverish them. Slaughter is soon forgotten : pecu- 
 niary mulcts are neither forgotten nor forgiven.' 
 
 Milverton. It is very unfair to put such a saying 
 into the mouth of Machiavelli ; but that he would 
 have objected to pecuniary mulcts, I am sure. 
 
 Ellesmere. Ignorant as I am both of Bacon and 
 Machiavelli, I shall put the matter in a more homely 
 way, but one that I deem will not be less convincing. 
 Imagine a fight between two schoolboys. If the 
 victorious schoolboy, after thrashing his antagonist, 
 were to take away his little pocket-money and his 
 knife, do you think those two boys would ever be 
 friends again ? Whereas, the surest way to establish 
 a firm friendship between two boys is, that they should 
 have a good fair stand-up fight. I wish I had had a 
 fight with Milverton when we were boys; we should 
 be much more affectionate friends than we are now ! 
 
 Sir Arthur. I think that Ellesmere's simile is 
 excellent. 
 
 Milverton. And I must say for Bacon and Ma- 
 chiavelli, that their peculiarity is, that they always 
 take the wisdom that lies at their feet, and they 
 would not have despised even Ellesmere's boyish simile. 
 The difference between these wise men and other men 
 is just this, that they seize upon what is common and 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 139 
 
 self-evident, and make it almost uncommon and most 
 searching. Now I will give you a simile that occurs 
 to me in reference to Mauleverer's ironclad. It is 
 that an ironclad and a cathedral very much resemble 
 one another. 
 
 Ellesmere. That is an astounding simile. 
 
 Milverton. You must look a little beyond the im- 
 mediate objects, before you recognize the truth of it. 
 Each of these wonderful productions is the outcome 
 of an age which is mainly directed in its thoughts to 
 the products in question. You could not have had 
 those cathedrals, if almost the whole mind of the 
 men of that time had not gone in the direction which 
 compelled those cathedrals to be built. You could 
 not have these ironclads, and all this wondrous skill 
 devoted to slaughter, which characterises this age, 
 and moves the contempt of Mauleverer to such a 
 height, if self-defence had not become one of the 
 most urgent, perhaps the most urgent, necessity for 
 nations. 
 
 Sir Arthur. And what becomes of Christianity ? 
 
 Mauleverer. What, indeed ! 
 
 Milverton. I wish to go back for a minute or two 
 in our conversation. I want to drive thoroughly out of 
 Ellesmere's head the notion that these great writers, 
 of whom he is quite ready to speak disrespectfully, 
 were merely subtle thinkers, or that their thoughts 
 
140 ANIMALS AND 
 
 are, for the most part, far-fetched. I do not believe 
 that mere subtlety in a writer has ever commanded 
 the world's esteem. 
 
 Sir Arthur, No ; when Bacon says ' reading 
 maketh a full man ; conference a ready man ; and 
 writing an exact man/ there is no particular subtlety 
 in what he says, and you are ready to give assent to 
 the saying the moment you have heard it. 
 
 Milverton. I remember a passage in Machiavelli 
 respecting which the same assertion, as it seems to 
 me, may justly be made. He is discussing the dan- 
 gers to a prince from conspiracies, and he says that 
 the danger arising from private injuries is immensely 
 increased if the prince is generally unpopular. There- 
 fore, he says, let a prince take care to avoid this general 
 unpopularity. If he succeeds in this, he will run 
 much less risk from the effects of private injuries, 
 whether they be such as have touched estate, life, or 
 honour. The private injury remains the same ; but 
 even if there should be the desire and the power to 
 revenge it by means of conspiracy, the conspirators 
 are restrained by that universal favour which they 
 perceive attaches to the prince.* 
 
 Sir Arthur. Yes : how far from subtle is this 
 
 * Che quando pur ei fussero d' animo e di potenza da farlo, 
 sono ritenuti da quella benevolenza universale, che veggono 
 avere ad un principe. — Discorsi, lib. 3, cap. 4. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 141 
 
 remark. We must admit the truth of it on the most 
 ordinary occasions in life. You will find that you are 
 much more prone to resent any injury which has been 
 inflicted upon you by an unpopular person. The 
 general disfavour often seems to increase the injury, 
 or, at any rate, there is not the restraint upon the 
 injured man which he is sure to feel if he receives 
 but little sympathy from others by reason of their 
 general approval of the injurer. 
 
 Milverton. I wish to carry the subject much 
 further. The sayings of these great men are generally 
 well-clothed in words ; but I wish to exalt the merit 
 and force of sayings which have not this advantage. 
 
 I think that some of the most fruitful, if not the 
 wisest, things that have ever been said, are of this 
 nature. They are not exactly commonplace things ; 
 indeed, when first uttered, they may have been the 
 product of severe thought ; but they are, for the most 
 part, statements of facts, statements which cannot be 
 denied, which do not strike you as very wonderful 
 when you first hear them, but which grow in im- 
 portance as you think over them, and as they are 
 illustrated by the facts that daily come before you. 
 They are not sharp sayings, which generally have 
 some narrowness in them, but they are sayings of an 
 immensely broad character. There is even a certain 
 bluntness about them. 
 
142 ANIMALS AND 
 
 Ellesmere. This is all very fine, I daresay ; but I 
 have not the most dim notion of what the man 
 means. 
 
 Milverton, I must take an instance. It has been 
 said that one of the best means to ensure content- 
 ment, is to take care that you do not set your heart 
 upon something which must, of necessity, be given 
 you by other people. You will doubtless find scores 
 of writers, from Epictetus downwards, who have 
 uttered this saying in various forms of language. 
 
 I must proceed with further illustration, for I fear 
 that there is still some haziness about my meaning. 
 Suppose a man, for example, has made the main 
 pleasure of his life to consist in applause. He is 
 completely at the mercy of his fellow men. He may 
 do something ever so well; but, ' contrive' them (I will 
 explain that word afterwards), they will not clap their 
 hands. And as this applause of other people is what 
 he has set his heart upon, and not the doing of some- 
 thing to his own satisfaction, he is entirely dependent 
 upon the will, or perhaps the wilfulness, of his fellow 
 men. 
 
 I do not think that you can exaggerate the fruitful- 
 ness of this thought, only it requires to be much dwelt 
 upon, in order to bring out its full merit. Of course, 
 it has nothing to do with bread-winning pursuits. If 
 you are to get your living by making knives or pins, 
 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 143 
 
 or giving legal opinions, you have to produce knives, 
 pins, and legal opinions, which shall satisfy your fellow 
 creatures, and ensure a good sale for these articles. 
 But if, over and above this necessary repute, you 
 hunger for praise, you have certainly given an addi- 
 tional hold upon yourself to your fellow creatures, 
 which, as I said before, places you entirely at their 
 mercy. 
 
 Take authorship, or statesmanship, or any of the 
 more refined modes of labour, and this same rule 
 applies. That man has put himself so far into the 
 power of other people, who beyond caring for doing 
 his work to the best of his power, looks to popular 
 applause for his reward. 
 
 You will find that a number of wise and' witty say- 
 ings are all contained in, and indeed anticipated by, 
 this one thought, illustrating the danger of making 
 your contentment depend upon what others alone can 
 give. 
 
 Sir Arthtir. 
 
 'Tis not in mortals to command success, 
 
 But we'll do more, Sempronius, we'll deserve it. 
 
 — only one ought to substitute the word ' applause ? 
 
 for ' success.' 
 
 Milverton. Yes, Sir Arthur; but the number of 
 
 such sayings anticipated by this original maxim is 
 
 legion. It chiefly applies to that which is, if I may 
 
i44 ANIMALS AND 
 
 so express it, extra to the ordinary duties and works 
 of life — to that which gives them their especial savour 
 to the man who does them. If this savour mainly 
 depends upon recognition, and praiseful recognition, 
 he is to that extent a slave. We ought to be able to 
 say, in Churchill's admirable words — 
 
 'Tis not the babbling of an idle world, 
 Where praise and censure are at random hurled, 
 That can the meanest of my thoughts control, 
 Or shake one settled purpose of my soul. 
 
 Sir Arthur, I am thinking of Gibbon. He was a 
 man who did not surrender his contentment into other 
 men's keeping. Early in life he felt that he was a 
 writer whose gifts by nature could best be made use of 
 by writing a history. He looked about for a subject 
 which would interest, or ought to interest, the world. 
 As I dare say you know, he did not choose 'The 
 Decline and Fall ' at first ; but when he had chosen 
 it, he abided by it ; and I feel confident that his con- 
 tentment depended upon working out his own purpose 
 — that he was thenceforth no man's slave, that he was 
 dependent upon no man as regards censure or applause. 
 
 Ellesmere. I now want to know why Milverton used 
 that strange word ' contrive ' so inappropriately, 
 suppose there is some pedantic reason for it. 
 
 Milverton, I will justify my use of the word. 
 There was a senior Fellow, holding high office in our 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 145 
 
 college — one of the best of men. He would tutorise 
 a poor Sizar without receiving any payment, if he saw 
 any worth in the young man. He was of a warm 
 temper, and very much given to the love of discipline 
 and decorum. His notions of decorum were some- 
 times outraged by us, as, for instance, in our attend- 
 ance at morning chapel. He would come into my 
 room, or that of some man he knew, and lecture us 
 somewhat after the following fashion : — ' I don't say 
 that you are late for chapel, but you don't take your 
 proper places at once ; you hang about the doors, 
 loiter, and gossip ; and, con-con-con-contrive you, you 
 keep the Master and Senior Fellows waiting in the 
 ante-chapel.' The good man longed to say the word 
 ' confound,' but thought it would be indecorous ; and 
 the nearest substitute which occurred to him, when he 
 was angry, was ' contrive.' I have ever since adopted 
 the word as a delicate and decorous substitute for 
 what might otherwise be considered as swearing. 
 
 Ellesmere. I should have thought that a calm- 
 minded philosophic man would never even have 
 thought of using the word ' confound.' For my part I 
 always say something much stronger or much feebler. 
 It is not a favourite word of mine. 
 
 But let that pass. I want to ask a pregnant and 
 personal question. When you write anything, Mil- 
 verton, what are your feelings anent criticism, par- 
 
 L 
 
i 4 6 ANIMALS AND 
 
 ticularly as regards hostile criticism? To put it 
 plainly : if there is a man in the world who desires 
 to persuade and influence other people, you are the 
 man ! Consequently you have placed your content- 
 ment*in other people's keeping, and you are, to use 
 your own polite expression, c a slave.' 
 
 Milverto?i. Not at all. You force me to speak 
 egotistically ; but I can give a perfect answer to your 
 question. 
 
 When I write anything, it is with a purpose. I own 
 that I hate to have my purpose thwarted. If a critic, 
 commenting upon what I write, agrees with me, I 
 honestly admit I am pleased. He has furthered my 
 purpose. 
 
 Et sapit, et mecum facit, et Jove judicat aequo. 
 I am very much obliged to him, and am disposed to 
 like him. 
 
 If he opposes me, and there is anything good and 
 serviceable in what he says, I take note of it for 
 future occasion. If he is only objectative and Elles- 
 merian, I say to myself, ' Contrive the fellow.' I 
 regret he is not with me ; indeed, if you like to put it 
 so strongly, I am vexed at this hindrance to my 
 purpose. But I have not placed my contentment in 
 the measure of applause one may get for anything. 
 
 Do any of you understand the system of i double 
 entry ? ' 
 
THEIR MASTERS, 147 
 
 Cranmer. I do. 
 
 Ellesmere. The rest of us, by our silence, show 
 that we do know it, but that we are not, like Cranmer, 
 anxious to parade our knowledge of it. 
 
 Milverton. It is but too evident that Ellesmere 
 knows nothing at all about it. I will explain. Cor- 
 rect me, Cranmer, if I do not do so rightly. 
 
 You must suppose yourself to be a merchant, and 
 to be able, by this excellent system of double entry, 
 to appreciate, if not to ascertain, at any moment, 
 the result of every venture separately. The good 
 ship e Mary Ann ? has gone to Santander with a 
 cargo suitable for the Spanish market. The good 
 ship is treated in the merchant's books as a human 
 being would be. She has her ( debit ' and her ' credit ;' 
 and this mode of keeping accounts shows whether 
 the venture on the ' Mary Ann' has been successful 
 or unsuccessful. 
 
 Now let a man who works in politics, in literature, 
 or in art, deal with his Bill, or his book, or his picture 
 or statue, as the merchant does with the good ship 
 1 Mary Ann.' Let him put down everything that is 
 to its debit or its credit ; but at the same time take 
 care to keep it as a separate transaction, in which 
 the whole of his fortune is. not involved. He will 
 find this mode of looking at his liabilities and his ven- 
 tures to be most useful and comforting. The good 
 
 l 2 
 
148 ANIMALS AND 
 
 ship does not always come to port, or she does 
 not always find a ready market for her cargo, how- 
 ever well chosen. Other people's conduct, or their 
 prejudices, just or unjust, may interfere with suc- 
 cess; but if he has adopted the practice of keep- 
 ing the accounts of this transaction separately, he 
 knows where he is in the venture, and seldom 
 allows himself to consider it, however deplorable 
 the result, as a wreck of his fortunes. 
 
 In political action there is more comfort to be 
 had from that astute thinker, De Quincey, than 
 from almost any other man. He looked upon the 
 transactions in politics as the resultants of certain 
 forces. A minister bringing in a Bill, should- do 
 the same. The forces may be such as neither 
 wit nor wisdom can overcome. On the other hand, 
 they may be such as to drive on his Bill to a suc- 
 cessful issue. In no case should he suffer himself to 
 be utterly disheartened by hostile criticism, if he 
 has done his best to promote his object. The same 
 with the sculptor, the painter, or the author. He 
 must not fix his vanity upon the thing attempted, 
 only his intention and his purposefulness (if I may 
 coin such a word) ; and you will find that most 
 people will bear the thwarting of their intentions and 
 their purposes better than the lowering of their 
 vanity and their self-loye. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. [49 
 
 Ellesmere. What an admirable consoler Milverton 
 would make for unsuccessful people. 
 
 Your mercantile mode of putting the thing is very 
 well in its way, but I could say something much more 
 tfr the point. There is a little anecdote which I 
 have heard before in this company, but I shall refresh 
 your memories by telling it again. 
 
 There was a certain great man, the head of a 
 house, with numerous scions belonging to it. He 
 was a very wise old man. I used to notice, when I 
 was a boy, that he was one of the few persons 
 whom the late Duke of Wellington would take a 
 walk with. You will naturally think, how should I 
 know he was a wise man ? 
 
 Lady Ellesmere, Do get on with your story, John. 
 
 Ellesmere. What an impatient little woman you 
 are ! I wonder from whom you learnt the habit of 
 impatience. 
 
 I was employed in a great case. My junior 
 begged me to read this man's evidence, which had 
 been given before a Parliamentary Committee, as 
 it bore upon the case. The evidence was masterly. 
 In general, we lawyers are not only great in cram- 
 ming for a case (we should be the boys for com- 
 petitive examinations), but we are also equally great 
 in discumbering our minds of what we have crammed 
 up for the occasion. But this man's evidence re- 
 mains to this day in my mind. 
 
150 ANIMALS AND 
 
 Well, there came a general election, and several of 
 the scions of that house lost their elections. One, 
 however, not the wisest of the family, succeeded. 
 We will call him Leonard. ' How is it/ said one 
 of the chiefs of the party to this old man, 'that 
 John, and Robert, and Thomas, failed, but Leonard 
 succeeded ? ' ' Oh ! his nonsense suited their non- 
 sense/ was the apt reply. And how much of human 
 life it explains. You don't win people by talking 
 their sense to them, but by talking their nonsense 
 to them, which they are fondest of. And then, if 
 you can talk the right nonsense to the right people, 
 and at the right time, you must succeed. Some- 
 times one is aghast with astonishment on reading a 
 speech of vast and continuous folly, which one finds 
 met with great applause. The truth is, it does not 
 happen to be one's own nonsense, but it is theirs — 
 the people whom the orator is addressing. 
 
 Cranmer. This is all very witty and very sa- 
 tirical, I daresay, but what consolation there is in it, 
 I do not exactly perceive. 
 
 Ellesmere. Why, don't you see that the unsuc- 
 cessful man can always comfort himself by thinking 
 that his sense did not suit c their nonsense ' ? 
 may be sure that there are thousands of people who 
 console themselves, and sometimes justly, by saying 
 to themselves that they are before their age, or, at 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 151 
 
 least, that they are out of joint with their age. I 
 have scarcely a doubt that Mauleverer, with whom 
 we hardly ever agree, retains his placidity while 
 amongst us, by thinking that his nonsense does not 
 suit our nonsense, or, as he would disrespectfully put 
 it, that his sense is prematurely confided to us. 
 Just the same thing happens in art and in literature 
 as in talkee-talkee. Only the word i taste ' must be 
 substituted for ' sense.' 
 
 While we were in the boat, evening came on, 
 and with it one of those grand sunsets which 
 are not seen many times in a man's life, and 
 which remain strongly impressed u'pon his me- 
 mory, although he have but little power of de- 
 scribing them to other persons. 
 
 This was no mean sunset occupying only the 
 western sky, but it overspread the whole range 
 of the heavens. A new world seemed to be de- 
 veloped in the skies, a world wherein there were 
 vast flame-coloured mountains, piled up, one over 
 the other, with wide still seas of that peculiar yellow- 
 green colour, so rarely to be seen, and on which 
 large dark islands seem to float. Every shade of 
 colour and every kind of form were there. Dimly 
 in the east a soft purple haze was visible, while in 
 
152 ANIMALS AND 
 
 the west there was a livid redness. The full 
 moon, as she slowly rose from the horizon, gathered 
 to herself all that was softest and most beautiful 
 in the colouring of the heavens, and formed the 
 most exquisite contrast to her fierce brother, the 
 sun, who left the world in solemn anger. 
 
 Silence came not only upon the ' Friends," 
 but upon all animated creatures near us. No- 
 thing was heard but a soft rippling sound among 
 the reeds, where, at the moment, we had stayed 
 the boat, and the occasional fall of drops of water 
 from the suspended oars. 
 
 Then, almost suddenly, the resplendent colouring 
 grew dim, and all that remained in the western 
 heavens were dark masses of cloud, and in the 
 east the now brightly- shining moon. 
 
 The conversation was resumed, but the sunset 
 had produced its effect ; Sir John Ellesmere re- 
 mained silent. There was an occasional wail in 
 words from Mauleverer, which was disregarded, 
 and the talk was left to Sir Arthur and Mr. 
 Milverton. I cannot distinguish the parts they 
 severally took in it, but the result was something 
 of this kind : 
 
 They spoke of the Cosmos of Humboldt ; of 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 153 
 
 the whole order of nature ; of its unity ; of what it 
 might teach us if we could but ascertain its few 
 great laws, and abide by them. They said how 
 scraps of morality and shreds of doctrine would 
 be absorbed and rendered needless, if we could 
 but once appreciate the meaning, the order, and 
 the beauty of the universe, as a whole. They 
 reverted to the subject we had been so much 
 considering, namely, the treatment of animals, 
 and said how little occasion there would be for 
 maxims and rules and laws about it, if only we 
 had learnt the real relationship that existed 
 amongst all animated beings. 
 
 They spoke of the views of a great German 
 writer, who had said that what is highest and 
 noblest in man, conceals itself, and is without 
 use for active life (as the highest mountains bear 
 no herbage), and out of the chain of beautiful 
 thoughts only some links can be detached as 
 actions .* 
 
 But they contended that even this was but a 
 
 * £)a$ vg>6d)fte unb (Sbelfte tm SDtenfcfyen oerbirgt fid) unb 
 tft ofyne 9tu£en fur tie tfy&tige SBelt (ttrie tie f)6d)jren S3erge 
 feme ©eroad)fe rtagen) unb aug ber Rett? fdjoner ©ebanlen 
 fonnen fid) nur einige ©tieber al$ Sfyaten abiofen.— - Jean Paul 
 Richter, Hesperus. 
 
154 ANIMALS AND 
 
 contracted view, or at least one that required fur- 
 ther development; for, that these high moods of 
 thought, which, above all things, the appreciation 
 of nature in its most beautiful forms tended to 
 produce, would render the application of mere 
 rules perfectly unnecessary, as the spirit in 
 which men would act, would overcome and be 
 beyond all written rules and regulations. 
 
 So far my mind went with them, but could 
 not quite follow them, when they went into what 
 appeared to me to be wild hopes and aspirations 
 for the future ; imagining a time when all nature 
 would be better understood, and men be drawn 
 more near to Nature's God ; when most of the 
 tribulations arising from wars and contentions, 
 and the clashing jealousies of sects and classes 
 amongst mankind, would be impossible by reason 
 of their then transparent folly. I could not par- 
 take of this hopefulness, which belongs, I sup- 
 pose, to the poetic temperament. Would that 
 prophetic power did but accompany poetical 
 temperament ! 
 
 The stars came out vividly in those parts of 
 the heavens where the clouds were not massed 
 together. Mauleverer, who has studied astro- 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 155 
 
 nomy, reminded us of some of the great dis- 
 coveries connected with that science, oppressing 
 us rather with descriptions of the magnitude of 
 the universe, and of our own smallness and 
 contemptibility. This kind of discourse was, no 
 doubt, very gratifying to him, but did not tend 
 to impart cheerfulness to the rest of us. And 
 then we rowed to the landing-place, and walked 
 up in silence to the house. 
 
156 ANIMALS AND 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 It was rather surprising to me that our friends 
 had hitherto, with the exception of the conversa- 
 tion in the boat on the lake, kept even so closely 
 as they had to the subject which Mr. Milverton put 
 before them at the beginning of the holidays. I 
 knew that it was pain and grief to Sir John to 
 keep so closely to any subject. We had, however, 
 another morning devoted to it, and the conversa- 
 tion chiefly turned upon Eastern thought and 
 action as regards animals. Sir William Jones, 
 Professor Max Miiller, Professor Wilson, and 
 other great authorities in Eastern lore, were, to- 
 gether with the Koran, very largely quoted ; but 
 I really think we have had so much of learned 
 quotation brought forward, that my readers will 
 not care to have this conversation reported to 
 them verbatim. The only quotations I shall give 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 157 
 
 are those which Sir Arthur made from the Koran 
 and its notes, and which were the following : — 
 
 There is no kind of beast on earth, nor fowl which 
 flieth with its wings, but the same is a people like unto you ; 
 we have not omitted anything in the Book of our decrees : 
 then unto their Lords shall they return. 
 
 Whereupon Sale, the translator, in a note applying 
 to this passage, says : — 
 
 For, according to the Mohammedan belief, the irrational 
 animals will also be restored to life at the resurrecti on, that 
 they may be brought to judgment, and have vengeance 
 taken on them for the injuries they did one another while 
 in this world. 
 
 Sir John Ellesmere did not fail to remark that 
 it does not seem to have occurred to the trans- 
 lator that any vengeance was to be taken for the 
 injuries which the other animals had received from 
 the hands of man. 
 
 Our own Scriptures were quoted, and Mr. 
 Milverton insisted much upon the passage : — 
 
 Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not 
 one of them is forgotten before God ? 
 
 Sir John Ellesmere then made an attack on 
 Mr. Milverton, saying that he had not given 
 enough attention to providing practical remedies 
 for the evils he had enumerated as regards the 
 
158 ANIMALS AND 
 
 treatment of animals. I was sorry to hear that 
 Mr. Cranmer joined in this attack. Mr. Milverton, 
 in reply, said something of this kind : — ' Hundreds 
 of thousands of transactions will take place in 
 our metropolis to-day in which the treatment of 
 animals by men is concerned ; and do you think 
 that I or anyone else can lay down rules by 
 which these transactions can be regulated ? If 
 we could lay down such rules, would they be 
 obeyed? Our object should be to get a better 
 spirit introduced into the treatment of animals. 
 That is the only thing which will really have an 
 abiding effect 
 
 ' It is very ungrateful of you, Cranmer, joining 
 with Ellesmere on this occasion ; for I admit, 
 and I think admitted at the time, that your 
 suggestion that a book should be written for 
 schools, which should inculcate humanity to ani- 
 mals, was a most excellent one. I even said 
 that you and Sir Arthur might write it : though 
 I think it had better be entrusted to a Huxley, 
 a Wallace, a Frank Buckland, a Hooker, a Wood; 
 or to Bates, who wrote that book upon the 
 Amazons, or some man of that kind, practised in 
 the observation of nature. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 159 
 
 • 
 
 i You ask for practical remedies, for things to do. 
 Well, I say, follow the example of Lady Burdett 
 Coutts, who has given prizes for the encouragement 
 of ^humanity to animals. I do not mean that you 
 are to do precisely the same thing— to follow ex- 
 actly in her steps ; but read up the subject (a great 
 deal of evidence has been given upon it before 
 Committees of the House of Commons), and you 
 will soon find out something to do. Meanwhile, 
 interest yourself in the doings of that excellent 
 "Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals," 
 and of other societies that have like objects in view. 
 
 ' You see that improvement in the treatment of 
 animals depends upon many small things which it 
 would be almost impossible to enumerate, and the 
 value of which would only be appreciated by 
 those who are conversant with the particular 
 branch of the subject to which these small reme- 
 dies refer. I will give you an instance. You 
 would hardly believe, unless you had heard the 
 evidence of experts, how much can be done to 
 improve the transit of animals by sea by such 
 regulations as the following, the adoption of which 
 is recommended by the Transit of Animals Com- 
 mittee. "The floors of each pen should be 
 
160 ANIMALS AND 
 
 provided with battens or other footholds; and 
 ashes, sand, sawdust, or other suitable substance 
 should be so strewed on the floors of the pens, 
 and on the decks and gangways, as to prevent the 
 animals from slipping." A whole host of evils 
 could be avoided by these simple regulations.' 
 
 I have now given some notion of the serious 
 part of the conversation. There was only one 
 part of it that may be called amusing. Sir 
 Arthur, who is quite as zealous an advocate for 
 the good treatment of animals as my chief is, 
 gave us an anecdote which was very characteristic. 
 When he was in office he had to attend a function 
 out of town, at which one of our most distin- 
 guished statesmen was also to be present. They 
 were both great lovers of animals, and each had 
 imparted to the other his determination never to 
 urge the driver of a hired horse to go faster 
 than the driver chose to go. Unfortunately, on 
 this occasion, . they were detained by urgent 
 business in Downing Street, and started toge- 
 ther very late in the same cab to the station. 
 In the minds of both of them there was a terrible 
 fear that they might be too late, and, if so, that 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 161 
 
 they would keep great personages waiting, 
 would incur much blame, and would, perhaps, 
 cause a breaking down of the function altogether. 
 After they had started, they pretended to talk 
 with interest of things which were really indif- 
 ferent to them ; for the thought which galled 
 both of them was whether they should be late. 
 Furtively they looked at their watches at almost 
 every other minute. At length they could not 
 keep up their sham talk any longer, and there 
 was dead silence. After this had lasted about 
 seven minutes, one of them had the boldness to 
 state the question which was in both their minds. 
 The cab- driver meanwhile was taking it very 
 coolly. They imparted to each other their hopes 
 and fears. The best that could happen to them 
 if they should be late, was, that they would be 
 able to get a special train. Even that might 
 not be feasible. Should they keep to their prin- 
 ciple of action, or should they break it % They 
 resolved to keep to it. The event was not disas- 
 trous. They were just in time, with not a second 
 to spare, and they had the satisfaction of having 
 abided by their principle. As they discussed the 
 matter with one another, they had said, 'This 
 
 M 
 
1 62 ANIMALS AND 
 
 appears very important to us, that we should be 
 in time : with thousands of other people the same 
 argument might hold good. How can we ever 
 have the face to urge upon them that they should 
 adopt the principle, which we break through 
 when a certain amount of pressure is brought to 
 bear upon us?' Sir Arthur finally said, i That he 
 did not know that in the whole course of his life 
 he had undergone so severe a temptation to 
 do anything which, upon general grounds, he 
 thought to be wrong.' We praised him very 
 much, but he would not accept our praise, saying, 
 that if there had been the slightest weakness in 
 his companion, he might have given way too, and 
 would have insisted upon its being a justifiable 
 exception. The malicious Ellesmere ventured to 
 suppose that if each of these distinguished persons 
 had been alone he would not have hesitated to 
 urge the cabman to urge his horse. But this 
 mean suggestion was universally scouted, and Sir 
 Arthur became a little angry at its having been 
 made. 
 
 Sir John Ellesmere then, somewhat to our as- 
 tonishment, began to dilate upon the pleasures of 
 companionship, and to say what a grand thing it 
 
THEIR MASTERS, 163 
 
 is to be able to discuss any subject with frequent 
 interruptions, such as could not be allowed when 
 listening to a sermon or a speech ; and then he 
 urged Mr. Milverton to write an essay on the joys 
 of high companionship, in the course of reading 
 which he, Sir John, was to be permitted to in- 
 terrupt at least four times. The other guests 
 seconded Sir John's request. Mr. Milverton con- 
 sented, and, when he had prepared his essay, read 
 it one morning when we were all assembled in 
 the study. 
 
 ON THE JOYS OF HIGH COMPANIONSHIP. 
 
 I wish, my good friends, that you had not given 
 me so fine a title for this essay. I shall be obliged 
 to consider many forms of companionship which 
 cannot be described by so grand an epithet as 
 1 high.' 
 
 The joys, not merely of high companionship, 
 but of any companionship that is tolerably pleasant, 
 are so great, that a man with whom all other things 
 go ill, cannot be classed as an unhappy man, if he 
 has throughout his life much of this pleasant com- 
 panionship. 
 
 m 2 
 
1 64 ANIMALS AND 
 
 The desire for companionship is absolutely uni- 
 versal. Even misanthropy is but the desire for 
 companionship, turned sour. This desire extends 
 throughout creation. It is very noticeable in domes- 
 tic animals ; and could we fathom the causes of 
 their sociability, we should probably have arrived at 
 a solution of several important questions relating to 
 them and to ourselves. 
 
 ( The most fascinating people in the world have, I 
 believe, been simply good companions. Shake- 
 speare, as he knew most things, Knew this, and has 
 shown that he knew it, in what he has indicated to 
 us of the loves of Brutus and Portia, of Antony 
 and Cleopatra, and of Rosalind and Orlando. We 
 now know that that ' brown Egyptian beauty,' 
 of whom Tennyson says, in his ' Dream of Fair 
 Women ' — 
 
 When she made pause I knew not for delight ; 
 
 Because with sudden motion from the ground 
 She raised her piercing orbs, and filled with light 
 
 The interval of sound. 
 
 was no beauty at all, and indeed by many people 
 would have been considered plain ; but no doubt 
 she was an exquisite companion. The same may 
 be said of many of the most fascinating people, 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 165 
 
 men and women, of our own country, and of our 
 own time/ However this may be, I think it must 
 be admitted that one of the main objects of life is 
 good companionship. "What/' says Emerson, "is 
 the end of all this apparatus of living — what but to 
 get a number of persons who shall be happy in 
 each other's society, and be seated at the same 
 table ? " 
 
 \Ellesmere. I shall take leave to make a remark 
 upon that afterwards.] 
 
 The first thing for companionship is, that there 
 should be a good relation between the persons who 
 are to become good companions to each other. It 
 is not well to use a foreign phrase if it can be 
 avoided, but there are foreign phrases which are 
 supremely significant, and utterly untranslatable. 
 I therefore say that those people I have spoken of 
 should be en rapport with one another. This 
 rapport may have its existence in various ways. 
 The relationship of mother and son, of father 
 and daughter, will give it ; the love that some 
 people have for children will give it with children ; 
 similar bringing up at school or at college may give 
 it ; similarity of present pursuits may give it. But 
 before all and above all, that incomprehensible, 
 
I 66 ANIMALS AND 
 
 unfathomable thing called personal liking— that 
 which you feel (or the contrary of which you feel), 
 frequently at first sight — will be sure to give it. We 
 use the phrase ' falling in love : ' we might perhaps 
 use the phrase 'foiling in liking ' to describe a 
 similar unavoidable precipitancy. 
 
 The cat that purrs at your approach establishes 
 herself en rapport with you ; and there is a human 
 purring, sometimes quite inaudible to alien ears, 
 which also does not foil to establish the requisite 
 relation. 
 
 There may, however, be very good and sound 
 companionship without friendship, as there may be 
 friendship of a most deep and sincere kind with but 
 a sorry accompaniment in the way of companionship. 
 The same may be said of lower degrees of regard 
 than that which is expressed by friendship; and 
 you may have but little respect or liking for one to 
 whom you cannot deny the merit of being a good 
 companion. There is an affinity between friendship 
 and companionship, as there is between the metal 
 that is moulded into a medal and that which is 
 turned into a current coin ; but the uses of the two 
 things are very different. In cases where there is 
 this good companionship, without a tie either of 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 167 
 
 affection or regard, there is always some other tie 
 to be found, which may be included under the head 
 of necessary social intercourse, and serves to form 
 the basis of the companionship. 
 
 The beginning once made, the basis once laid for 
 this companionship, what are the qualities which 
 fend to make it continuously pleasant ? 
 
 The first thing is confidence. Now, in using the 
 word confidence, it is not meant to imply that there 
 is an absolute necessity for much confidingness in 
 small things. Wilhelm Von Humboldt has ex- 
 pressed an opinion which is worth noting in 
 reference to this subject. ' Friendship and love/ 
 he says, l require the deepest and most genuine 
 confidence, but lofty souls do not require the 
 trivial confidences of familiarity.'* 
 
 The kind of confidence that Humboldt means, 
 and which is required for companionship as well 
 as for friendship and love, puts aside all querul- 
 ous questions as to whether the companions like 
 one another as much to-day as they did yesterday. 
 
 * greunbfcfyaft unb £tebe bebiirfen beS SSertrauenS/ beS 
 ttefften unb eigeniltdjftett/ abet bet grog arttgen (Seeten me tie 
 £$ertraultd)feuen. Dr. Ramage's Beautiful Thoughts from 
 German Authors. Liverpool, 1868. 
 
1 68 ANIMALS AND 
 
 Steadfastness is to be assumed. And, also a cer- 
 tain unchangeableness. ' He is a wonderfully 
 agreeable person/ said a neighbour of one of the 
 best talkers of the day ; ' but I have to renew 
 my acquaintance with him every morning.' That 
 good talker cannot be held to be a good com- 
 panion in a high sense of the word. Again, this 
 steadfastness makes allowance for all variations of 
 humour, temperament, and fortune. It prevents 
 one companion from attributing any change that 
 there may be in the other, of manner, of bearing, 
 or of vivacity, to a change in the real relation 
 between the companions. He does not make any 
 of these things personal towards himself. Silence 
 is not supposed to be offence. Hence there is no 
 occasion to make talk, a thing which is fatal to 
 companionship. One reason why some of us en- 
 joy so much the society of animals, is because we 
 need not talk to them if we do not like. And, 
 indeed, with a thoroughly good human companion, 
 you ought to be able to feel as if you were quite 
 alone. 
 
 The hindrances to sound and pleasant com- 
 panionship are far more of a moral than of an 
 intellectual kind. Diversity of tastes may be no 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 169 
 
 hindrance, and, on the other hand, they may be 
 the greatest hindrance to good companionship. I 
 think, however, it may be observed that those 
 tastes only are fatal which have their origin in what 
 is moral or emotional, and not in what is intellectual. 
 For instance, there shall be two persons, excellently 
 fitted for companionship ; but very different, in- 
 tellectually speaking, in their tastes. One shall be 
 a great lover of art, and everything that is inartistic 
 is very repulsive to him. He will comment upon 
 what offends his taste in works of art, in literature, 
 in all the apparatus of living. This will not hinder 
 even the perfection of companionship, although 
 the other is a plain blunt person, somewhat inclined 
 to think this frequent reference to art rather tedious. 
 If, however, he has a taste for ridicule, and indulges 
 it in commenting sarcastically upon that which is a 
 very deep part of his friend's nature, those two 
 friends will soon cease to be good companions 
 to one another. There can be no healthy com- 
 panionship when there is a perpetual expectation 
 of attack. 
 
 \Ellesmere. Oh !] 
 
 Unless, indeed, it is thoroughly understood that 
 the attacks are purely playful, and that when one 
 
iyo ANIMALS AND 
 
 friend differs from the other, and manifests this 
 difference by anything like satire, there is at the 
 same time a confidence in the mind of the person 
 attacked, that his friend really respects his views, 
 and would wish to adopt them if he could. 
 
 \_Elles7nere. Oh ! indeed.] 
 
 Difference of temperament is no hindrance what- 
 ever to companionship. Indeed, the world has 
 generally recognized that fact. We all know that 
 the ardent and the timid, the hopeful and the 
 despondent, the eager and the apathetic, get on 
 very well together. What may not always have 
 been as clearly perceived is, that there are certain 
 diversities of nature, chiefly relating to habits, 
 which produce, not agreeable contrasts, but down- 
 right fatal discords. And, in such cases, companion- 
 ship of a high kind is hopeless. 
 
 Benefits neither make nor hinder true companion- 
 ship. I may also observe that relationship ought to 
 ensure good companionship, because, however un- 
 pleasant it may be to relations to be told that they 
 are wont to resemble one another very much, they 
 often do so resemble one another. And, frequently, 
 this resemblance exists in those very qualities that 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 171 
 
 tend to ensure good companionship. Why, however, 
 relatives often fail in becoming pleasant companions 
 to one another is, from a cause which also destroys 
 so much love and so much friendship in the world. 
 It is an unreasonable expectation of liking, love, or 
 sympathy, grounded merely upon some external 
 connection, if it may be so called, of the one person 
 to the other. You must not expect that people will 
 change their natures in their dealings with you, 
 merely because they are your friends, or your 
 relatives, or your lovers. They are thus brought 
 into relation with you, but not necessarily en 
 rapport. And, in fact, you must take more pains 
 with them than with other people to create this 
 rapport, and, if possible, to satisfy the unreason of 
 their expectations. 
 
 One might deal with companionship under several 
 heads — moral, intellectual, even physical. But 
 the truth is that it is a thing ' compounded of 
 so many simples,' that it would not be judicious, 
 and certainly would be pedantic, to consider the 
 subject after the fashion of the schoolmen in a 
 distributive manner. I have endeavoured to show 
 that good companionship depends upon many 
 things which may be called of a minor kind, and 
 
172 ANIMALS AND 
 
 have not disdained to attribute great weight to 
 such a fanciful thing as personal liking. 
 
 Now let us suppose that the principal requisites 
 for companionship have been attained; first, the 
 basis for it created by personal liking, early asso- 
 ciation, similarity of pursuits, and the like ; 
 secondly, the means of continuing it, such as this 
 confidence that has been spoken of, the absence of 
 contravening tastes, the absence of unreasonable 
 expectation, and the like. Now, for what remain 
 to be considered as the essential requisites for high 
 companionship, we must enter into what is almost 
 purely intellectual. For this high companionship 
 there must be an interest in many things, at least 
 on one side, and on the other a great power of 
 receptivity. It is almost impossible to exaggerate 
 the needfulness of these elements. Look at results. 
 Consider the nature of those men and women whom 
 you have found, if I may use the phrase, to be splen- 
 did companions. It is not exactly their knowledge 
 that has made them so ; it is their almost universal 
 interest in everything that comes before them. 
 This quality will make even ignorant people ex- 
 tremely good companions to the most instructed 
 persons. It is not, however, the relation of tutor 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 173 
 
 to pupil that is contemplated here. That is certainly 
 not the highest form of companionship. The kind 
 of ignorant person that I mean, if he or she should 
 be one of the companions, is to be intensely receptive 
 and appreciative, and his or her remarks are very 
 dear and very pleasant to the most instructed 
 person. Is not the most valuable part of all know- 
 ledge very explicable, and do you not find that you 
 can make your best thoughts intelligible, if you 
 have any clearness of expression, to persons not 
 exactly of your own order, if you will only take the 
 pains to do so ? 
 
 \Ellesmere. I never can make Cranmer understand 
 my best points.] 
 
 The most consummate companions, intellectually 
 speaking, are those who do not talk much about 
 the past. The present and the future are their 
 main subjects. This was to be observed in the 
 late Lord Palmerston. In addition to this quality 
 for a good companion, he was a man who had the 
 most intense interest in every branch of human 
 effort. The fulness of vitality that was in him, 
 even when he was in his 79th year, made him care 
 for what was present, and what was to come, in all 
 
174 ANIMALS AND 
 
 affairs of human interest, and especially in dis 
 coveries and inventions. 
 
 What constitutes a bore? Three qualifications 
 are requisite to make a perfect bore. He must 
 prefer hearing himself talk, to the pleasure of 
 eliciting good conversation. The limitation of his 
 interest in human affairs is very restricted ; therefore 
 he repeats himself largely ; and, as you will observe, 
 he is very fond of talking of the past, and of the 
 past in the strain of ^Eneas, often introducing the 
 sentiment, if not the actual words, quorum pars 
 magna fut. 
 
 The reason why great literary men and great 
 statesmen are such interesting companions, is, not 
 only that they have a very wide range of subjects, 
 but that they are generally very anxious to persuade 
 their companions of something, to bring them 
 round to their way of thinking ; and their earnestness 
 is contagious, and creates earnestness, and therefore 
 pleasure, in the soul of the hearer. And in general, 
 these men are delighted with any companion who 
 is appreciative and receptive, whatever his other 
 gifts or failings may be. 
 
 Lastly, it is to be observed, as a general rule, that 
 almost every very great man is an adept in com- 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 175 
 
 panionship, and is a companion to almost every- 
 body with whom he enters into social intercourse. 
 What a memorable description that is of Burke's 
 excellence in that aspect — that if you had met .*. 
 
 him, taking shelter under an archway, you would 
 have found out that you were in the company of a 
 great man ! You would, however, not only have 
 found out that ; but you would have discovered 
 that you had met with a good companion — with 
 one whose society you would long for, as it would 
 fulfil all the conditions for evoking and maintaining 
 the rare felicity of high companionship. 
 
176 ANIMALS AND 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MlLVERTON. I think I heard you interrupt once or 
 twice, Ellesmere. You can now make your objec- 
 tions. 
 
 Ellesmere. There was one part of your essay, 
 
 Milverton, that was weak — decidedly weak. You 
 
 were dilating upon a part of the subject which you 
 
 do not understand. It was where you spoke of bores. 
 
 I maintain that no man deserves the title of a bore, 
 
 who does not deal largely, I may say offensively, in 
 
 details. A bore over-explains, over-illustrates, molests 
 
 one with needless dates, informs one of Smith, of whom 
 
 he is going to tell a good story, that he is first-cousin 
 
 to Jones of the Audit Office, and thinks you must have 
 
 met him at Robinson's, who married into Brown's 
 
 family — not the Highgate Browns, but the Browns 
 
 who have that nice place at Hackney, with green gates, 
 
 and a porter's lodge built after a Chinese pattern. At 
 
 last you hardly know where you are ; and there is a 
 
 feeling of being suffocated by a profusion of facts, every 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 177 
 
 one of which might, judiciously, be omitted. ' Le secret 
 d'etre ennuyeux c'est de tout dire.' 
 
 Why it is that I say you do not understand the sub- 
 ject is, that all you official fellows are too fond ot need- 
 less facts, and are over-tolerant of a redundancy of 
 details. 
 
 Milverton. I bow to your greater experience of 
 bores, Ellesmere. 
 
 Ellesmere. Again, when you quoted Emerson (not 
 quite accurately, if I remember the passage rightly), I 
 meant to say that it is all very well for him, in his 
 pleasant little Concord, or his all-accomplished Bos- 
 ton,* to make so much of the joys of society ; but 
 anything more uncompanionable than the society of 
 London cannot well be imagined. 
 
 In these elaborate dinners, and these reunions, 
 evening assemblies, or whatever you call them, plea- 
 sant companionship is the last thing thought of, or 
 aimed at. In fact, if the metropolis is to go on in- 
 creasing in size, and society is to be conducted as it is 
 at present, new arrangements will have to be made for 
 friendship and companionship. 
 
 * This conversation took place some months before the 
 great fire at Boston, or, doubtless, Sir John would have ex- 
 pressed his sorrow at that lamentable catastrophe, and his 
 sympathy with the sufferers. 
 
 N 
 
178 ANIMALS AND 
 
 Sir Arthur. That is an odd phrase, ' arrangements 
 for friendship and companionship/ 
 
 Ellesmere. You may disapprove of the phrase if 
 you like ; but, depend upon it, the continuance of 
 friendship and the maintenance of companionship 
 can be furthered or hindered by various commonplace 
 things, physical even in their character, which have 
 nothing whatever to do with the romance of friend- 
 ship or the joys of companionship. 
 
 Cranmer. Is not the increase of locomotion a 
 counteracting force, Ellesmere — I mean one that pro- 
 motes the continuance of friendship ? 
 
 Ellesme?'e. Oh, no, not a bit ; or, at least, only 
 very little. Just as people see more of the surface of 
 countries by this increased locomotion, so also they 
 may have increased superficial conversancy with former 
 friends and companions. But friendship and com- 
 panionship must, to a great extent, depend upon 
 neighbourhood. You can't get rid of that physical fact ; 
 and therefore the aim of everyone should be to make 
 the necessary daily converse he has with his fellow- 
 creatures a means of friendship and companionship. 
 Look at ourselves. We are all brought together to 
 ( the great wen,' as Cobbett called it — at least for a 
 large part of the year. If I were a country rector, what 
 real use should I be to you for companionship ? 
 think I hear you say, occasionally but very rarely, 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 179 
 
 r 
 
 'Do you remember that man Ellesmere at college? 
 He is buried somewhere in the country. If he were 
 here now, how he would endeavour to agree with 
 each one of us, and try to place all our views in the 
 best light !' But you would gradually forget me and 
 my merits altogether. 
 
 Cranmer. It requires a painful effort of the ima- 
 gination to picture Ellesmere as a rector in a distant 
 country parish. 
 
 Milverton. But there is a great deal of truth in 
 what he says. One must rely much upon neigh- 
 bourhood, or proximity of some sort, for the main- 
 tenance of companionship. Now in London one has 
 no neighbours. 
 
 Cranmer, I am going to shock you all ; but I 
 must confess that I do like talk of that kind which is 
 vulgarly called ' shop ; ? and that is a thing indepen- 
 dent, to a certain extent, of neighbourhood. 
 
 Ellesmere. Very true, Cranmer. ' Shop talk y is 
 very good talk. It is earnest : it is real : and, pro- 
 vided it does not shut other people out of the con- 
 versation, it is decidedly a thing to be encouraged 
 rather than discouraged. It is quite right and proper 
 that Cranmer should stand up for it, for of all persons 
 on the earth who talk l shop/ commend me to official 
 and parliamentary people. A few weeks ago I was 
 honoured by being invited to a male dinner of official 
 
 N 2 
 
180 ANIMALS AND 
 
 and parliamentary persons. I was the only lawyer 
 present, at least the only practising lawyer. I declare 
 to you that, with the exception of myself and my 
 neighbour whom I drew away from his favourite 
 topics, every other person round the table was either 
 talking or listening to official or parliamentary talk. 
 I made the remark at the time, and it was not denied. 
 They all appeared to enjoy themselves amazingly. I 
 therefore am quite prepared to accede to Cranmer's 
 views upon the question. 
 
 Now to quite another point. Don't you think it was 
 a little insolent on Milverton's part to speak as he did 
 of the great conversational powers of men of letters ? 
 
 Milverton. Perhaps it was audacious ; but it is 
 true; and the reason of it is not far to seek. It is 
 because their range of subjects is so wide. Now, 
 imagine what a number of questions a man must 
 have looked into who writes a history ! I overheard a 
 well-known historian talking the other day on a point 
 of law with one of the most learned of your tribe, Elles- 
 mere. The lawyer said, ' I suppose we are the only 
 two human beings who have looked into this subject 
 for the last century/ I do not unreasonably exalt the 
 conversational merits of men of letters, but only ex- 
 plain them by saying that it is part of their business 
 to know a great many things pretty well. They don't 
 pretend to be finished experts, as professional men 
 
THEIR MASTERS, 181 
 
 are; but they have more general knowledge, which 
 naturally enters into conversation. For instance, the 
 branch of law which that historian was discussing, was 
 perhaps the only one he knew anything about ; but 
 probably it gave him an insight into the way you 
 lawyers view questions, and so it put him into a sort 
 of relation towards you all, and made him somewhat 
 of a better companion for you than he would other- 
 wise have been. But, to use a homely proverb, i the 
 proof of the pudding is in the eating.' What com- 
 panions many of you must have known among the 
 distinguished men of letters and science of the present 
 day ! You ascertain what are the joys of high com- 
 panionship when you take a walk with Carlyle, Emer- 
 son, Froude, Kingsley, Tennyson, Browning, and 
 many others whom I could mention. Then, take 
 those who have gone from us ; how great a reputation 
 many of them had as companions, and I do not 
 doubt it was a well-founded reputation ! I may name 
 Wordsworth, Sydney Smith, Jeffrey, Rogers, Moore ; 
 and, to give an instance of a purely literary man, 
 Dean Milman. That learned dean seemed to his 
 contemporaries to know everything. He was never at 
 fault, they say, in the conversation. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Do you remember, in Lockhart's 4 Life 
 of Scott,' Sir Walter's coming up on one occasion to 
 London, and being invited day after day to different 
 
1 82 ANIMALS AND 
 
 sets of men, and how he narrates that the conversation 
 of the bishops was the best he heard in London? 
 And why? Because the bishops, as a general rule, 
 are men of letters. 
 
 Milverton. I beg to include men of science and 
 men of art in the same category, namely, as having 
 especial qualifications for good companionship. Now, 
 do look at what an artist has to master — nature — man — 
 everything. I have never met with such good judges 
 of character as I have found among artists ; and if it 
 were a great object for me to understand the character 
 of any man, I would rather hear what the painter who 
 painted his portrait would say of him, than what even 
 his most intimate friend could tell me. 
 
 Sit Arthur. You see, the advantage these men of 
 letters, science, and art, have as companions, is, that 
 their respective occupations make almost every kind 
 of human effort interesting to them. Now, a young 
 engineer was in a company where there was a very 
 learned man. The young fellow talked disrespectfully, 
 as one of the company thought, who was a near rela- 
 tive ; (not that he meant to be disrespectful, for any 
 feeling of the kind was foreign from his real nature), 
 This near relative — I may as well say it was his father 
 — took him aside, and said, 6 You are very disrespect- 
 ful, my dear boy ; don't you know that he is a man of 
 some celebrity, and I dare say could tell you how to 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 183 
 
 interpret the arrowheaded characters of the time of 
 Sennacherib ? ' The youth replied, ' Why should I 
 respect him ? he can't drive a nail straight through 
 the leathern sole of a highlow ; I don't think much of 
 him.' Now where the learned man would 'have a 
 pull/ to use a slang phrase of the day, over this young 
 man is in this way. If it were explained to our 
 learned friend that it was a matter of difficulty to 
 drive a nail straight through a mass of leather, he 
 would probably estimate the feat, and respect the man 
 who could do it accordingly ; but it may be well 
 doubted whether the young man would return the 
 compliment, and have an equal estimation for the 
 other's hard work, that of the interpretation of arrow- 
 headed characters. 
 
 Ellesmere. After this glorification of men of science, 
 art, and literature, let us hear a little about statesmen. 
 I want to know more about Lord Palmerston. Lord 
 Palmerston's character is a subject upon which Sir 
 Arthur and Milverton, who knew him officially, are 
 always ready to discourse at large. I, too, liked 
 Lord Palmerston hugely, though he was upon the 
 opposite side of the House, and sometimes even dared 
 to make fun of me. 
 
 Sir Arthur. At a dinner-table, or in general 
 society, Lord Palmerston, though always genial, did 
 not always shine ; but when you were at home with 
 
1 84 ANIMALS AND 
 
 him, or when you were at work with him, or when you 
 were walking with him, he was a charming companion. 
 And what was said about his avoidance of the past, 
 and his intense interest in the present and the future, is 
 exactly true. I saw a great deal of him in the last 
 ten years of his, life, and I only remember two or 
 three instances when he went back upon the past ; 
 but, as regards our hopes and prospects for the future, 
 he was always ready to discourse at large, whether 
 the subject was agriculture, or law, or politics, or 
 political economy. 
 
 Milverton. I am curious to know what were the 
 two or three instances to which you allude. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Well : I had the audacity to joke with 
 him about his beautiful handwriting. You know he 
 wrote a better handwriting than any other man of his 
 time. I said, ' I am afraid good handwriting has not 
 always been a sign of great virtue in the writer. The 
 next best handwriting to yours, Lord Palmerston, is 
 Lucrezia Borgia's.' He parried the attack ; and then 
 gave instances of good handwriting, and mentioned 
 Louis- Philippe's, describing that monarch's signature 
 to the last document he signed as king — something 
 relating to his abdication, if I recollect rightly. And 
 then Lord Palmerston recounted to me the whole of 
 the secret history of that transaction, and of the king's 
 flight to England. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 185 
 
 Milverton. How I should like to have heard it ! 
 Give us another instance, Sir Arthur, of his recurrence 
 to the past. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I think I have given it before ; but, 
 perhaps, not to this company. We were walking 
 together in the grounds at Broadlands, and he began 
 to speak for once, and once only, of his early life. 
 
 He told me that early in life his house was next to 
 that of a great lady who frequently gave balls ; and 
 he said it used to amuse him to notice the rise, pro- 
 gress, and decline of the ball, as he continued to work 
 throughout the night. 
 
 First there were to be heard the faint attempts, 
 at intervals, before many people had arrived, to 
 commence the business of the evening. Then soon 
 afterwards the gaiety began to get warm. Then 
 it became fast and furious. Suddenly there was 
 comparative silence, it being supper-time. After- 
 wards the gaiety became more fast and more furious. 
 Then it gradually sobered down as the ' small hours ' 
 of the night advanced; and the rattling noise of 
 departing carriages began. Then came the last faint 
 accents of the ball, somewhat corresponding with 
 those made by the early attempts at gaiety at the 
 beginning of the evening. Then the last carriage 
 drove away ; and the ladies of the next house would 
 come out upon the balcony, looking rather pale and 
 
x86 ANIMALS AND 
 
 worn. He, too, would go out upon his balcony and 
 watch the dull dawn coming in so mournfully. 
 
 Mauleverer. As if it felt ashamed that it was about 
 to awaken so many toilworn and miserable people to 
 fresh toil and fresh misery. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Lord Palmerston did not say anything 
 like that, Mauleverer. 
 
 While he was talking to me, I kept thinking, not of 
 the dancers, but of himself, and how justly he had 
 attained to his great position, by the labour he had 
 given in his earliest years to make himself fitted for it. 
 He was very modest too. Do you remember in the 
 story of his life, how he refused to take a great office 
 and to become a Cabinet Minister when he was yet 
 very young, giving as his reason for refusal, that he 
 was not equal to the place, and had not sufficient 
 knowledge for it ? 
 
 Ellesmere. I told you that there was no subject 
 upon which we were so sure to make these official men 
 go off, as it were, as the subject of Lord Palmerston. 
 
 Milvcrton. I will tell you how this is. I think he 
 is not sufficiently estimated in the present day. He 
 was a consummate man of business, and that en- 
 deared him to me. But, indeed, great statesmen are 
 seldom sufficiently estimated by posterity. How few 
 of us know much, comparatively speaking, of Canning, 
 of Huskisson,- of Lord Aberdeen, and of many other 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 187 
 
 statesmen who might be named, and who in fact 
 were very eminent men ! They give you the best 
 part of their lives ; they are but poorly rewarded 
 during their lifetime; and I think they are not 
 sufficiently remembered afterwards, especially in a 
 free country. The same thing, too, will happen with 
 the present men. The despotic minister of a despotic 
 monarch generally looms large in history ; and, what- 
 ever his qualifications may have been, he enters into 
 poetry and into history as a prominent figure. Yet the 
 free minister of a constitutional sovereign is often a 
 much greater man, and has much greater difficulties 
 to contend with. 
 
 Ellesmere. There is one comfort in talking with 
 Milverton — one always knows where one is with him. 
 .The official part of him is never absent. 
 
 Milverton. Observe the laboriousness of these 
 men. They deserve ample recognition, if only for 
 that. Oh ! I must tell you a story about a man 
 occupying a very different position from a statesman, 
 but you will soon see why this story occurs to me now. 
 
 You all know our gardener, John Withers, what a 
 good, kind, cross, tyrannical person he is. Well,, 
 there is a certain vegetable of which you have par- 
 taken lately, Ellesmere, at our table. From some 
 mere book knowledge of soil and climate, I ventured 
 to say that it would grow in this country, and even in 
 
1 88 ANIMALS AND 
 
 this garden. John said it would not. Gardeners, like 
 women, are inveterate Conservatives. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. The most useful of men are 
 likely to partake the nature of women. 
 
 Milverton. However, feigning an abject humility 
 to his dictum, I still persuaded him, just for the sake 
 of humouring me, to put in some seeds, and attempt 
 to grow this vegetable. It flourished amazingly, as 
 you have seen. My wife (what moral courage, not to 
 say audacity, women possess !) must needs comment to 
 John upon this success. * You see, John, it has done 
 very well, as your master said it would.' Then again, 
 after a few minutes, ' Your master was quite right, 
 John.' At length he grew tired of hearing my praises ; 
 and he uttered these memorable words : — ( Lfs not 
 he's saying of it : it's 'tention does it — 'tention does 
 it ' .* meaning that his tf/tention was the real cause of 
 the success. You know his habit of cutting off the 
 first or the last syllable of every important word. 
 
 Well, I say too 'It's 'tention does it,' whether the 
 'tention is given by gardeners or by statesmen. 
 
 The iwo great requisites for the grandest forms of 
 success are simply to care very much about anything, 
 and to give "tendon* to it. 
 
 Sir Arthur. How completely this word ( 'tention ' 
 brings us back to our subject, if indeed it could be 
 said that we have wandered from it ! Companions 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 189 
 
 are interesting companions accordingly as they take 
 a deep interest in anything. 
 
 Milverton. Almost all persons have a potentiality 
 of good companionship : you have only to get them 
 upon some subject that they really care about, that 
 they have paid ' Mention to/ and their companionship, 
 if I may use such a word, is developed. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Whenever you enter by some chance 
 into a new phase of society, you find what clever, in- 
 telligent, even charming people there are in that 
 society, and what interest they take in matters respect- 
 ing which, perhaps, you did not think that there was 
 anything interesting at all until you came to know 
 these people. Everywhere there are the elements of 
 good, even of high, companionship ; and this does not 
 depend upon education. I am afraid the world is 
 beginning to think too much of education. One of 
 the best companions I ever knew was a man who 
 could neither read nor write. He had large views of 
 everything he talked about. Observation and expe- 
 rience had done for him what we are apt to suppose 
 can only be done by a sort of literary education. 
 You will think it perhaps extravagant of me to say; 
 but I seem to myself to see in such men how a 
 Shakespeare arose ; for, say what you like, Shake- 
 speare must have had mighty little education, accord- 
 ing to our notion of the word. 
 
190 ANIMALS AND 
 
 That makes me think of a weak point in Lord 
 Palmerston. Nothing could persuade him that Shake- 
 speare wrote Shakespeare's Plays. ( What ! ' he would 
 exclaim, 'you are not so foolish as to suppose that 
 the man yciu call Shakespeare really did write those 
 plays which show such a wealth of knowledge. I am 
 surprised at you.' 
 
 
 There was then a rather long discussion about 
 Shakespeare's learning, with which my readers need 
 not to be troubled. The conversation, after a time, 
 received quite a different direction, being brought 
 back to its original subject-matter by Sir John 
 Ellesmere's abruptly saying : 
 
 A great essay might be written on a subject kindred 
 to your own, Milverton, and which I would entitle 
 'The unjust claims made for companionship, or the 
 unjust resentments entertained on account of non- 
 companionship or failing companionship. , In the 
 works of all great writers of fiction, I have almost 
 always felt that their greatest successes have been in 
 the portraying of their minor characters. The reason 
 is, that they indulge less in exaggeration in depicting 
 these characters. You will not at first see how this 
 applies. I was thinking that the unjust claims for 
 companionship are generally made by persons who 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 191 
 
 have a spurious kind of humility. Then I naturally- 
 thought of Uriah Heep, in one of Dickens's novels ; 
 but I soon saw what a much better character, to 
 illustrate my meaning, was that of Mrs. Gummidge, 
 in the same novel. She is always intimating that she 
 is neglected, and her character is admirably drawn. 
 There is a great deal of what I call ' Gummidge ' 
 talked in the world, and very unreasonable talk it is. 
 
 Sir Arthur. But the whole subject might be much 
 more widely treated. The person who complains of 
 want of companionship nearly always makes an unjust 
 complaint. 
 
 Milverton. Yes : he generally fails to throw him- 
 self at all into the position of the other side. 
 
 For instance, companionship, such as it existed in 
 former days between two persons, is rendered impos- 
 sible, or at least very difficult, by a change of 
 circumstances ; and then one of the companions is 
 nearly sure to blame the other, and to attribute 
 motives, which have nothing whatever to do with 
 the falling off of companionship. 
 
 A great mistake, which I suspect we are all prone 
 to make as regards friendship, has been pointed out 
 by a German writer of much originality, named 
 Arthur Schopenhauer ; and what he says would 
 apply to companionship. He says, ' What we de- 
 mand from a friend, and what we promise ourselves 
 
192 ANIMALS AND 
 
 on our own behalf, we fix after the measuring-scale of 
 his and our best moments, and thence arises dis- 
 satisfaction with others, with ourselves, and with our 
 condition.' * 
 
 Now we should never expect from others, nor 
 promise for ourselves, more than belongs to our 
 average capacity in anything. 
 
 Ellesmere. I want to carry you away to quite a 
 different subject, in fact to revert to our animal talk, in 
 respect to which there is one point upon which, I think, 
 you have shown yourself a little cowardly, Milverton. 
 I made a note in my mind, to tell you of this. 
 
 Milverton. I really don't know what you mean, 
 Ellesmere. I am not in the habit of refraining from 
 saying anything I think upon any subject to any 
 person. 
 
 Ellesmere. Well : you have said nothing about 
 sport. 
 
 Milverton. If so, it was an oversight. My mind 
 was full of matters connected with the treatment of 
 animals, respecting which I knew something — such as 
 the transit of animals. Moreover, having lived in the 
 
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 unferem Sufranbe.. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 193 
 
 country, I ha\e been led to observe the management 
 of animals on farms. But, as regards sporting, you 
 could not find a more ignorant human being. My 
 experience of hunting, for instance, which was limited 
 to one occasion, mainly accords with that of Dr. 
 Johnson, who says somewhere : — 
 
 I have now learned, by hunting, to perceive that it is no 
 diversion at all, nor ever takes a man out of himself for a 
 moment : the dogs have less sagacity than I could have pre- 
 vailed on myself to suppose ; and the gentlemen often call 
 to me not to ride over them. It is very strange, and very 
 melancholy, that the paucity of human pleasures should per- 
 suade us ever to call hunting one of them. 
 
 Of course, as you might expect, I agree with most 
 of what Mr. Freeman has written on the subject of 
 sport. And these Pigeon Matches, and things of that 
 kind, seem to me very poor, contemptible, and brutal- 
 izing transactions. How women can ' assist ' at such 
 entertainments passes my comprehension. But I 
 do not pretend to have thought carefully upon the 
 general subject of sport, and therefore it never occurred 
 to me to dilate upon it. Is that a sufficient answer, 
 Ellesmere ? 
 
 Ellesmere. H'm ! Pretty well : but it is one of 
 those nice questions that I should like to have heard 
 discussed. 
 
 Cranmer. And you would have flitted about from 
 
 o 
 
194 ANIMALS AND 
 
 side to side, and would have been equally troublesome 
 to both sides. 
 
 Elles?nere. Oh ! there is another point in our talk 
 about animals which I wish to put before you. I have 
 been reading this book, Tucker's * Light of Nature 
 Pursued,' which you told me I was sure to like. You 
 were right. The author is great upon the subject of 
 boys. Listen to what he says about them. 
 
 Those of the sprightliest temper are commonly fullest of 
 mischief : because being unable to bear the sight of every- 
 thing languid around them, they can raise more stir by vex- 
 ing than by doing service .... and for the like reason 
 they throw stones at people, because they can put them 
 thereby into a greater flutter than by anything else they could 
 do. Or, if they have not an opportunity of seeing the vexa- 
 tion occasioned by the pranks they play, still they can enjoy 
 the thought of it ; and will break a window slily, hide a 
 workman's tool, or fasten up his door, for sake of the fancy 
 of how much he will fret and fume when he comes to discover 
 the roguery. * 
 
 Then he uses an excellent phrase, namely, 'the 
 engagingness of mischief.' But it was not merely to 
 amuse you that I read these passages. They brought 
 to my mind something which seems to bear upon our 
 general subject. Is not the greatest part of all our 
 cruelty, whether to our fellow-men or to our fellow- 
 
 * Tucker's Light of Nature Pursued, vol. vii. pp. 9, 10. 
 
 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 195 
 
 animals, attributable to our horror of dulness, and our 
 anxiety to ' raise stir' ? 
 
 Sir Arthur. Your general remark, Ellesmere, is 
 good ; but I do not think it has special application to 
 our subject. 
 
 Milverton. No ; intentional cruelty, from whatever 
 cause arising, is but a small part of the matter. It is 
 careless cruelty, or ignorant cruelty, that we have most 
 to guard against. 
 
 Milverton. I will tell you fully my thoughts upon 
 this subject. It appears to me that the great advance- 
 ment of the world throughout all ages, is to be mea- 
 sured by the increase of humanity and the decrease of 
 cruelty. In hardly anything else do we feel sure that 
 there is advancement. One folly dies out and another 
 folly takes its place. As regards any particular vice 
 or error, it is often difficult to trace any assured im- 
 provement for many centuries. For instance, the 
 upper classes drink less imprudently than they did 
 in former generations ; but it may be questioned 
 whether, generally speaking, drunkenness is less pre- 
 valent or less harmful at present than at any former 
 period. There are times when Art seems to culminate 
 and then to descend. A similar statement would 
 apply to literature. There are golden ages, and then 
 there are silvern ; and then there are leaden. Then 
 again there comes, perhaps, a move upwards. Even 
 
 o 2 
 
196 ANIMALS AND 
 
 science, in which there has been a more steady move- 
 ment of continuous advance than in any other intel- 
 lectual pursuit, has its periods of comparative decline 
 and elevation. But if you take the history of the 
 world throughout, you must, I think, admit that hu- 
 manity has been continually upon the increase. 
 
 Now you may speak discontentedly about its rate of 
 progress : you may say that desolating wars still are 
 frequent in the world ; but only read the history of 
 former wars, and you will perceive what an immense 
 move has been made in the direction towards hu- 
 manity, even in these most barbarous transactions. I 
 am convinced that if an historian of world-wide know- 
 ledge, supposing there could be such a man, were to 
 sum up the gains and losses of the world at the end of 
 each recorded century, there might be much which was 
 retrograde in other aspects of human life and conduct, 
 but nothing that could show a backward course in 
 humanity. Even as regards those instances of cruelty 
 and brutality which have been mentioned in the course 
 of our conversations, it must be admitted that some are 
 exceptional ; that others are heedless rather than in- 
 tentional ; and that when brought before the bar of 
 public opinion, they are universally condemned. It 
 would also, I think, be seen in any such review of a 
 century as I have imagined, that all which was sup- 
 ported by inhumanity, or even by violence, has come 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 197 
 
 to nought ; and as that great poet Schiller says of a 
 tumultuous inundation, the destruction alone which it 
 has caused remains to show that it ever existed.* A 
 river is not formed : nothing that is useful for men 
 remains as the result of all this violence, and we can 
 only trace its existence by the mischief it has accom- 
 plished. 
 
 It seems as if the main design of Providence had 
 been to bring upon this earth a race of beings per- 
 petually improving as regards humanity. We arrogate 
 this word to ourselves. I cannot but believe, that if 
 we ceased to fulfil the conditions which are assumed 
 in that word, we should be supplanted by another 
 race. And therefore I feel, that even in this minor 
 matter (if indeed it can be called a minor matter) of 
 our treatment of the inferior animals associated with 
 us, if we failed to exercise the requisite humanity, it 
 would go hard with ourselves. The fact that our own 
 material welfare depends much upon our treatment of 
 
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 ©efyt serrinnenb im <Sanbe tterloren/ 
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198 ANIMALS AND 
 
 the lower animals, rather seems to verify than to 
 militate against the foregoing conclusion. 
 
 Ellesmere. I have not been so much interested for 
 a long time in any subject as I am in this. When it 
 was first started, I expected from the nature of our 
 host, that it would be treated rather sentimentally, 
 and though in this case I happen to sympathise with 
 the sentiment, I did not expect to hear much of what 
 was practically interesting ; but I have come to con- 
 sider this matter as one of the deepest importance at 
 the present time. During your absence, Milverton 
 has told me many things which he has not mentioned 
 in general conversation. You see, with the exception 
 of certain official and scientific persons, he ought 
 to know more than most people about the treatment 
 of cattle. 
 
 Milverton. It is not very pleasant to be talked 
 about in this way before one's face ; but still, as the 
 result is not unpleasing, I accept the talk. It means 
 that Ellesmere thinks I am in general given to theory 
 and sentiment ; but that on this rare occasion I have 
 something practical to say for myself. 
 
 Ellesinere. I flatter myself that I also have found 
 something very practical to bring before you ; but I 
 must do so by degrees, working up to my point. Mil- 
 verton has imparted to me several of the main facts 
 relating to cattle plague. He showed me from data 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 199 
 
 that cannot be contradicted, that in the great out- 
 break of '66 we lost cattle, the value of which 
 amounted to more than five millions. He then showed 
 me that the number of animals lost during the present 
 year in Europe amounted to several hundreds of thou- 
 sands. You see this is a very serious thing for the 
 whole world. 
 
 Milverton. I wish here to recall to your memo- 
 ries a fact to which you may have given little 
 heed at the time. During the late war between 
 France and Germany, you may occasionally have no- 
 ticed that a foreign correspondent would say, 'The 
 French peasants in this neighbourhood declare that 
 they have suffered more from the cattle plague intro- 
 duced by the Germans, than by any depredations 
 committed by the German soldiery.' 
 
 Ellesmere. Milverton also showed me how vast 
 had been the destruction of cattle, from the disease, 
 during two periods in the course of the last cen- 
 tury. 
 
 Cranmer. Well, we admit all this — what then ? 
 
 Ellesmere. Do you remember that at the beginning 
 of our talk — the first day we were all here — Sir 
 Arthur was rather put down by Milverton for bringing 
 forward difference of race as a cause of any difference 
 of treatment of animals? This branch of the subject 
 ought, in my opinion, to have had more weight given 
 
2.oo ANIMALS AND 
 
 i 
 
 to it. Can anyone tell us anything of this difference 
 of treatment ? What about Russia, for instance ? 
 
 Sir Arthur. All that I know of the treatment 
 of animals in Russia is derived from Custine. I 
 should not say that his idea of the treatment is favour- 
 able. And he makes this observation, that the Rus- 
 sians have no laws for the protection of animals, as 
 there are in England. What made me notice this 
 passage was that I was surprised to find that Custine 
 had any knowledge of our laws. 
 
 Milverton. It is such a wide subject, that one is 
 afraid of being dogmatic about it, and of being dog- 
 matically wrong. I don't mind giving you my im- 
 pressions ; but I have scarcely anything more than 
 impressions to offer. From what I have heard and 
 seen the Germans are very good to their animals. So 
 are the French, with the exception of those abomi- 
 nable vivisecting surgeons. In Spain, if you recollect, 
 Ellesmere, we observed great brutality in the treat- 
 ment of the mules in the diligences ; but otherwise we 
 thought the Spaniards tolerably humane to animals. 
 I make a special exception, of course, in regard to 
 their bull-fights.. You see, this is a subject which 
 probably has seemed to travellers not worthy of much 
 observation. Nothing that I have read in books of 
 travel in America has given me much information as 
 regards their treatment of animals. I iam very curious 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 201 
 
 to kiiow what it is ; and if I were to travel in America, 
 it would be one of the principal things that I should 
 try to ascertain. I also long to know how animals are 
 treated in Russia. These two nations are, together 
 with ourselves, the most growing nations in the world ; 
 and the future treatment of animals must greatly de- 
 pend upon the views and habits affecting these crea- 
 tures, which may be adopted by the Americans, the 
 Russians, and ourselves. I can venture to contradict 
 Custine on this point. There is a law which certainly 
 prevails in some of the Governments of Russia, that 
 when you are posting, you must have a horse for every 
 adult passenger. If there are six of you, you must 
 hire six horses, not necessarily attached to the same 
 carriage, but three horses to each set of three travellers, 
 for they would divide your party into two. This is a 
 small matter, but still it shows some effort at legis- 
 lation in favour of animals. 
 
 Ellesmere. Now you are coming dose to the point 
 which is, in my mind, of the greatest practical im- 
 portance and which I have been working up to. 
 
 You have admitted that this cattle plague is one of 
 the most serious things at present before us. I can 
 even foresee that serious political troubles might be 
 occasioned by the dearness of provisions, which this 
 pest may at some time suddenly produce. 
 
 Now, here is the question. Is it the treatment of 
 
202 ANIMALS AND 
 
 animals, or is it climate, or some other unavoidable 
 cause, which breeds this disease ? Suppose it - to be 
 treatment ; suppose it to be something which more 
 judicious, or rather less injudicious mode of housing, 
 feeding, and wintering could mitigate or prevent — 
 how all important it becomes to Europe, and indeed, 
 to the whole world, to ascertain these facts ! I am, of 
 course, alluding to those parts of the earth where this 
 disease is supposed to be bred. 
 
 Here is something practical to be done. Galicia, 
 Milverton tells me, is a country from which, as a 
 centre, cattle plague spreads. He says, that he knows 
 of but one man who has travelled in Galicia, and that 
 good man, Professor Symonds, went with the object 
 of investigating the cattle plague. His knowledge has 
 been most serviceable to this country. But I want a 
 great deal more done. I want some one to go there 
 and to stay and study the agricultural modes of pro- 
 ceeding in that country, and in those parts of Russia, 
 where the cattle plague may be almost said to have its 
 home. Your friend Ruskin, Milverton, is often show- 
 ing men what they should do to make life better and 
 more beautiful. I wish we could enlist his eloquence 
 on our side. Here really is a great field for wise ex- 
 ertion. 
 
 Cranmer. I declare Ellesmere is becoming quite 
 enthusiastic and eloquent. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 203 
 
 Ellesmere. If you don't behave yourself, Cranmer, 
 I shall suggest that the Government should do some- 
 thing, and that I know will give you pain, for it will 
 cost money. 
 
 Now, do you all follow me ? I do not mind repeat- 
 ing concisely what I wish to urge upon you. This 
 cattle plague is a tremendous evil. Its continual 
 presence is to be dreaded by reason, as Milverton told 
 me, of the increase of railway facilities for transit. 
 The railway system is now complete from those dis- 
 tricts which are the supposed foci of the disease to 
 our own shores. We should try to master the evil at 
 these foci. You who care very much about the suffer- 
 ings of animals, should hate this disease, as it is one 
 accompanied by great suffering to the poor creatures. 
 But even more than that you should care, if you 
 are statesmen, for the supply of food to the poorest of 
 our population. It may be that the treatment of the 
 animals at these central places of infection is the 
 cause of the infection ; and if so, the remedy consists 
 in improving that treatment there. If cholera were the 
 subject of our discourse, I should put forth similar views 
 about that. Here is an object of real benevolence of 
 the most practical kind. Milverton said, we might be 
 satisfied that our talk had not been useless, if we put 
 down the bearing-rein ; but what is the bearing-rein 
 compared with the cattle plague ? The object that I 
 
204 ANIMALS AND 
 
 have puc forward, embraces almost every branch of 
 the subject we have been considering— the instruction 
 to be given about animals ; the treatment of animals by 
 the owner ; the transit of animals ; the effects of dif- 
 ference of race in the treatment of animals ; and in- 
 deed, every part of the subject that has direct practi- 
 cal importance, both as regards humanity, policy, and 
 political economy. I have said my say. 
 
 Sir Arthur, I wish, Ellesmere, you had said all 
 this, before I gave my summary of our sayings. I 
 assure you, I should not have neglected to give your 
 suggestion a prominent place, 
 
 Milverton, As you may imagine, I agree with every 
 word that Ellesmere has said. I only wish to point 
 out to you a further consequence that may result from 
 the investigations he has proposed. It is this, that if 
 it should be proved that the treatment of animals in 
 those countries which are the foci of this disease 
 should not be the true cause of its existence being 
 developed there, a system of quarantine combined 
 with slaughter must be adopted jointly by all the 
 principal countries of Eastern Europe. 
 
 Mrs. Milverton. Now I should like to go back to 
 companionship. Nothing has been said cf the com- 
 panionship of men and women. I mean nothing 
 special relating to that branch of the subject. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. Very true, Blanche. I observed 
 that when these men went into a discussion of the 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 205 
 
 heights of grand companionship, it was only the 
 society of other men they were thinking of. Rather 
 impolite, I thought. 
 
 Milverton. By way of answer to you both, the 
 words of two poets immediately occur (to me. Please 
 give me ' Philip Van Artevelde/ Johnson. 
 
 In that beautiful interlude between the two parts of 
 Philip's life, there is the following passage. I must 
 first, though, give you a little description of the 
 context. Elena, early in life, before she met with 
 Philip, had fallen in loye with a young man very 
 inferior to herself : — 
 
 The well-spring of his love was -poor 
 Compared to hers : his gifts were fewer j 
 The total light that was. in him 
 Before a spark of hers grew dim ; 
 Too high, too grave, too^large, too deep, 
 Her love could neither laugh nor sleep— 
 And thus it tired him. 
 
 Then the poet goes on to say — 
 
 His desire 
 Was for a less consuming fire : 
 He wished that she should love him well, 
 Not wildly ; wished her passion's spell 
 To charm her heart, but leave her fancy free ; 
 To quicken converse, not to quell ; 
 He granted he: to sigh, for so could he ; 
 But when she wept, why should it be ? 
 'Twas irksome, for it stole away 
 The joy of his love holiday. 
 
206 ANIMALS AND 
 
 Now I have always thought that Sir Henry Taylor 
 
 has treated that young man, name unknown, rather 
 
 harshly, for I strongly suspect that most men, even of 
 
 the superior kind, greatly resemble him. I do not 
 
 think that Elena could have been a very pleasant 
 
 companion, and I believe that companionship has a 
 
 great deal to do with the maintenance of love. The 
 
 love is to be a thing always understood, coming under 
 
 the first requisite mentioned in the essay as the basis 
 
 of companionship, namely, personal liking; but it 
 
 does not require to be perpetually expressed. Now I 
 
 come to the other poet, Byron. Manfred says, I 
 
 recollect the words : — 
 
 She was like me in lineaments— her eyes, 
 Her hair, her features, all, to the very tone 
 Even of her voice, they said were like to mine ; 
 But soften'd all, and temper'd into beauty ; 
 She had the same lone thoughts and wanderings, 
 The quest of hidden knowledge, and a mind 
 To comprehend the universe ; nor these 
 Alone, but with them gentler powers than mine, 
 Pity, and smiles, and tears — which I had not, 
 And tenderness — but that I had for her ; 
 Humility — and that I never had. 
 Her faults were mine — her virtues were her own. 
 
 These two passages give two instances of the com- 
 panionship of men and women — one successful, the 
 other the reverse. The exceeding charm of this 
 companionship will always consist in difference of 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 207 
 
 character. In the latter instance, the difference co- 
 exists with a tender similitude. That, perhaps, would 
 create the highest form of companionship. 
 
 In the former instance, what was wanting, the 
 want of which troubled this small-souled young man 
 as it would trouble most men, was the kind of love 
 which should ensure good companionship, fitted 
 
 To quicken converse, not to quell. 
 
 The difference of character should have given a zest 
 to companionship, not destroyed it. To create this 
 kind of companionship great intellectual gifts are not 
 required on the part of the lesser personage of the 
 two companions, but only perceptiveness and recep- 
 tiveness ; though, of course, it will always be the better 
 and the larger if there should be these intellectual 
 gifts. I have nothing more to say upon the subject. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. You have not said anything, 
 Leonard, about men and women who live together, 
 and who differ upon every earthly subject. How will 
 they get on ? 
 
 Milverton, I really think, my dear, I have met 
 this case. I said that difference rather created 
 pleasure than not, in companionship, and that this 
 might even extend to difference of tastes ; but that 
 the difference must not be made offensive. You all 
 know what I mean. One cannot state such com- 
 
2oS ANIMALS AND 
 
 plicated matters in such a way as to guard them 
 from all objection. We all know, especially you 
 ladies, when we are making ourselves disagreeable, 
 and so embittering companionship. There are times 
 when a man will bear to hear his most cherished 
 convictions not only opposed, but ridiculed. There 
 are other times when it is unsafe to do this. Tact, of 
 which you women possess an almost unfair share, 
 will easily enable you to distinguish between these 
 times ; and your large possession of this invaluable 
 quality, tact, enables you to become at all times the 
 most delightful companions that can be imagined to 
 us poor men. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. Let us go immediately, Blanche. 
 I have a wild desire, have not you ? to see how your 
 good, cross-grained gardener, John, who has had so 
 much weight and influence in this conversation, has 
 planned put the new gravel- walk; which we must all 
 say is the closest approach to perfection. If we 
 stay any longer here, my husband or some of the 
 other gentlemen will begin taking exceptions, or 
 making qualifications which will tend to deface and 
 disfigure the fine things which Leonard has just been 
 saying of us. Not that I quite like what he said 
 about Elena ; but still I suppose it was as much as 
 we could expect from a man. 
 
THEIR MASTERS. 209 
 
 The ladies immediately rose, we followed them ; 
 and the rest of the afternoon was spent in con- 
 sidering gardening projects, submitted with the 
 greatest deference, even by Sir John, to his name- 
 sake, the gardener. 
 
 What an advantage a bad temper would be ta 
 one if it did not bite at both ends ; if it did not 
 make one's self nearly as miserable as it does 
 other people ! 
 
 This was the last day of our holiday, and we 
 returned on the morrow to our weary work in 
 London. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 -*<>♦- 
 
 A BERDEEN, Lord, 1 86 
 *- ** Accuracy, a divine, 35 
 Addison, quotation from, 143 
 Adverse argument, stating an, 69 
 Agreements, family, 28 
 Agriculture, Bastiat on, 11 
 Anaxagoras on animal reason, 64, 84 
 Angelic Doctor, quotation from the, 88 
 Animals, courtesy to, 101 
 
 — cruelty to, 8, 19, 43, 44, 45, 193, 195, &a 
 
 — diseases of, n 
 
 — dumb, 129 
 
 — familiarity with, 9 
 
 — fear, 48 
 
 — memory of, 57 
 
 — overcrowding, 18 
 
 — poets and, 120 
 
 — reasoning powers of, 65, 108 
 
 — rights of, 44 
 
 — sermons on behalf of, 2^ 
 
 — sufferings of, 99 
 
2T2 INDEX. 
 
 Animals (continued), Sunday rest for, 63 
 
 — treatment of, in Russia, 200; from habits of race, 12, 
 199 
 
 Anecdote about calumny, 25 
 
 — Mr. Cranmer and his father, 31 
 
 v — Ellesmere and the drowning cat, 131 
 
 — young engineer and man of letters, 183 
 
 — Frenchman out riding, 22 
 
 — fox and hounds, 55 
 
 — Milverton's upset from boat, 3 
 
 — the two statesmen in a cab, 161 
 
 — Thackeray and oysters, 50 
 
 — Lord Palmerston, 183-6, 190 
 
 — John Withers, 187 
 
 — the word 'contrive,' 145 
 Anxiety, 49 
 
 Apology for Raimond de Sebonde. Quotation from Mon- 
 taigne's, 91 
 Applause, 142 
 
 Aquinas, Thomas, quotation from, 88 
 'Arcana Politica,'' quotation from the, note, 86 
 Aristotle, 75 ; on man, 105 
 Arnold, Dr., quotation from, 98 
 Arnold, Edwin, quotation from, 108 
 Arrowheaded characters, 183 
 Art of .writing, the, 33 
 Artists as judges of character, 182 
 Avitus, Junius, 29 
 
 BACON, quotation from, 140 ; and Machiavelli, 138 
 Balls, Lord Palmerston's account of a neighbour's, 185 
 Barclay, Dr., quoted by Grindon, 100 
 
INDEX. 213 
 
 Barlasus's anecdote of a fox, 55 
 
 Barrow's Sermons, quoted for clearness of expression, 34 
 
 Bastiat, 10; quotation from, 1 1 
 
 Bayle, quotation from, 98 
 
 Bearing-reins, 10, 66 ; not used in Scotland, 67 ; human, 
 
 72, 78 
 Beavers, 52 
 
 Berkeley, Bishop, on designing, 84 ; on law-making, 85 
 Birds, as pets, 23; Voltaire on, 74; Montaigne on, q* * 
 
 Petrarch on, 93 
 Bishops as companions, 185 
 Blair, Dr., 70 
 Bores, 174-76 
 Boyle on animals, 102 
 Boys, and accidents, 4 ; Tucker on, quotation from ' Light 
 
 of Nature Pursued,' 194 
 Breaks, want of, 80 
 Brougham, quotation from Lord, 118 
 Browning as a companion, 181 
 Burke as a good companion, 175 
 Butterflies, ladies and, 50 
 'Bus horse's letter in the ' Echo,' 80 
 Byron, quotation from, 206 
 
 CAB, anecdote of two statesmen in a, 161 
 Caged birds, 23 
 Calumny, anecdote about, 25 
 Canning but little known, 186 
 Cardan, Jerome, quotation from, 86 
 Care and anxiety, 49 
 Carlyle as a companion, 181 
 Cathedrals, origin of, 139 
 
214 INDEX. 
 
 Catholics admitted to colleges, 85 
 
 Cato, M., quotation from Plutarch's life of, 101 
 
 Cattle, transit of, 15 
 
 — plague, the, 199 
 Cats and their masters, 25 
 
 — love for music, 88 
 
 — drowning a, 131 
 Central control, office for, 77 
 Cervantes, 124 
 
 Character, artists good judges of, 182 
 
 Cholera, 203 
 
 Christianity and modern preaching, 20 
 
 Churchill, quotation from, 144 
 
 Civilisation and horses, 21 
 
 Clearness of expression, 34 
 
 Cobbett on London, 178 
 
 Colleges, admitting Catholics to, 85 
 
 Collie dogs, 24 
 
 'Common-place Book of Thoughts,' quotation from Mrs. 
 Jameson's, 99 
 
 Communication with cab-masters, 61 
 
 Companionship, essay on, 163. Universality of, 164. 
 Fascinating people, 164. Shakespeare on, 164. Emer- 
 son, 165. Personal liking and friendship, 166. Von 
 Humboldt, 167. Steadfastness, 168. Talking and si- 
 lence, 168. Difference of temperament, 170. Un- 
 reasonable expectations of some people, 171. Talking of 
 the past, 173. Lord Palmerston, 173, 184. Bores, 174- 
 176. Statesmen, 174. Burke, 174. London, 177-179. 
 Bishops, 182. Education, 189. Schopenhauer on, 191 
 
 ' Compitum,' quotation from Digby's, 124 
 
 Consultation among friends, 5 
 
 ' Contrive,' 142, 145 
 
INDEX. 215 
 
 Control, central, 77 
 
 Conversations, good done by, 6 
 
 Cortes and his treatment of the Indians, 57 
 ^Courtesy to animals, 101 
 
 Coutts, the Baroness Burdett, 159 
 
 Cranmer, Mr. , and his father, 3 1 
 
 Criticism, hostile, 146 
 
 Cruelties to animals, 8. Inflicted by hirelings, 19. In 
 ancient Rome, 92. Inspections as a preventitive, 45. 
 Woman's influence over, 43. Public opinion, 44. Spa- 
 niards, 125. Pigeon matches, 193. Careless and igno- 
 rant, 195 
 
 Culture and familiarity, 9 ; and the bearing-rein, 13-14 
 
 Custine on treatment of animals in Rtfssia, 201 
 
 DE QUINCEY, 148 
 Dean, Richard, quoted by Grindon, 100 
 Descartes, 63, 73, 88, 125 
 
 Designing, Bishop Berkeley on, 84 ; on law-making, 85 
 Details and boredom, 176 
 Dialogue, its uses and drawbacks, 7 
 'Dialogues on Instinct,' quotation from, 118 
 Dickens, 27, 191 
 
 ' Dictionnaire philosophique, ' quotation from, 75 
 Digby's 'Compitum,' quotation from, 124 
 Dinners, wearisomeness of long, 71. Dogs and, 23 
 ' Discours de la Methode,' 73 
 Diseases of Animals, 1 1 
 Divine accuracy, 35 
 Dobson's translation of Petrarch, 93 
 Dogs, 23. ' Fairy, ' 24. Collies, 24. Fuller on, 83 
 Double entry and Politics, 147 
 Dumb animals, 129 
 
216 INDEX. 
 
 \ TT CHO,' 'bus horse's letter in, 80 
 -■— ' Education, 189; and familiarity, 9; and the bear- 
 ing-rein, 31-14 
 
 Ellesmere's anecdote of the cat and Milverton, 131 
 
 ' Eloge ' of Voltaire on Descartes, 73 
 
 Emerson, 165; and companionship, 177, 181 
 
 Employers, 61 
 
 Engineer, anecdote of the man of letters and the young, 
 
 183 
 
 Epictetus, 142 
 Exceptions, admitting, 90 
 
 FAIRY,' Mr. Milyerton's dog, 24, 54, 65 
 Fascinating people, 164 
 Familiarity with animals, 9 
 Family agreements, 28 
 Fathers and sons, 29 
 Faust, quotation from, 49 
 Fear, sufferings of animals from, 48, 52 
 Fines, imposition of, on conquered nations, 137 
 Fish, gold-, official life and, 24 
 Fox, Barlseus's anecdote of a, 55 
 Freeman, Mr., 193 
 
 Frenchman, anecdote of the, riding, 22 
 Friends in council, list of the, I 
 Friendship and companionship, 165 
 Froude, Mr., 181 
 Fun, dogs' enjoyment of, 56 
 Fuller, 93 
 
 GALEN, 104 
 Gardeners and conservatives, 188 
 
INDEX. 217 
 
 Geese, a case of cruelty to, 113 
 
 Geheimrath, a faulty, 19 
 
 German papers, obscurity in, 36 
 
 Gibbon, 144 
 
 Glass bowl, fish in a, 24 
 
 Goethe, 34, 49, 64, p. 
 
 Gold-fish, 24 
 
 Governmental action, 17 
 
 'Guardian,' quotation from, 121 
 
 Gulliver, 22 
 
 ' Gummidgery, ' 191 
 
 TT ALF- WEEKLY post, 38 
 
 ■*- -*■ 'Harmonies Economiques,' 1 1 
 
 Heartbeating, 105 
 
 Herbert, George, quotation from the life of, 123 
 
 Hirelings, cruelty inflicted by, 19 
 
 High-companionship, essay on the joys of, 163 
 
 Horses and warfare, 20 ; and civilisation, 2 1 ; noiseless 
 
 when hurt, 21; timidity of, 59; shying, 59; Montaigne 
 
 on, 91 
 Hume, David, quotation from, 108 
 Hudibras, quotation from, 10 1 
 Huskisson, 186 
 
 T M AGINATION and cruelty, 57 
 ■*■ Immortality of the soul, 96 
 — of brutes, 100 
 Improving away a likeness, 7 
 Inspections to prevent cruelty to animals, 45 
 Intellectual victory, love of, 70 
 Interference, State, 77, 79 
 Ironclads and cathedrals, 139 
 
2iS INDEX. 
 
 J 
 
 AMESON, Mrs., quotation from, 98, 99 
 Jeffery, 181 
 
 Johnson, Dr., quotation from, 193 ; saying about a boat, 3 
 Juvenile presumption, 30 
 
 KINGSLEY, 181 
 Koran, 157 
 
 LAME horses, 44 
 Language, clearness of, 34, 76 
 Law-making, 85 
 Lavater and expression, 69 
 Legislators, born, 85 
 
 Letter from ' 'Bus horse ' in the ' Echo ' newspaper, 80 
 — writing, 38 
 
 Lewes, G., and penguins, 104 
 Liberty, personal, 77 
 Licensing Act, working of the new, 78 
 ' Light of Nature Pursued,' quotation from, 119 
 Likenesses improved away, 7 
 Locke, 121 
 London society, 177 
 
 Loss to a nation through want of proper care for animals, 1 £ 
 Love of parents, 30 
 
 Love-making, Sir John Ellesmere's ideas upon, 6 
 Lucid language, 34, 76 
 Lucretius, quotation from, 107 
 Lytton, Lord, 27 
 
 MACHIAVELLI, quotation from, 140; and Bacon, 138 
 'Macmillan's Magazine,' 78 
 Matter and soul, 89 
 
INDEX. 219 
 
 Medecin, and cruelty towards animals, 41 
 
 Meddygon Myddfai, 41 
 
 Memory of cruelty, 57 
 
 Men of letters good companions, 181 
 
 Men's minds, travelling over, 72 
 
 Middle passage, cruelties of the, 1 8 
 
 Mill, John, 77 
 
 Milman, Dean, 181 
 
 Milverton, Mr., upset from a boat, 3 ; rescues a cat from 
 
 drowning, 131 
 Montaigne, quotations from, p., 91, 92. Essay on cruelty, 
 
 91. Apology for Raimond de Sebonde, 91. Referred to 
 
 by Pope, 121 
 Moore, 181 
 Morin, 95 
 
 Mothers' and fathers' feelings, 29 
 Mulcts, national, 137 
 Munro's translation of Lucretius, 107 
 
 f 
 
 TVJEIGHBOURS, 179 
 
 ■*• ^ 'Night Thoughts,' quotation from, 96 
 
 ' Nobody does nothing, ' 26 
 
 Noise, making a, when hurt, 2 1 
 
 Nonsense, suiting people's, 150 
 
 North, quotation from Sir Thos., Plutarch's ' Lives,' 100 
 
 OBJECTIONS and exceptions, 90 
 Official routine, 24 
 Omnibus breaks, 80 
 Overcrowding, 18, 112 
 Ovid, 104, 121 
 Oysters, Thackeray and the, 50 
 
220 INDEX. 
 
 T)ALEY'S definition of virtue, 98 
 
 -■- Palmerston, Lord, 173, 183-6; and Shakespeare, 
 
 190 
 Pamphleteering, a dead thing, 6 
 Partnerships in writing, 37 
 Past, talking of the, 173 
 Penguins, 102, 104 
 Pereira, Gomez, 124 
 Petrarch, quotation from, 93, 121 
 Pets, 23, 24 
 
 Philip van Artevelde. quotation from, 205 
 Pigeon matches, 193 
 Pleasure-taking, 63 
 Pliny, quotation from, 29 
 Plutarch, 84, 100 
 Poets and animals, 120 
 Political talkers, 180 
 Post, half-weekly, 38 
 Posting in Russia, 201 
 Pope, quotation from, 121 
 Popularity, Machiavelli on, 140 
 Power, loss of time in deciding where to be placed, 45 
 
 — of reason in animals, 65, 108 
 
 Prices increased by overcrowding stock, 18 
 Providence and nature, 65 
 Public documents, writing, 36 
 
 — opinion, effect of, on cruelties, 44 
 Pythagoras, 91 
 
 QUERIST,' Bishop Berkeley's, 84 
 Quotations from authors : — 
 Addison, 143 
 Aquinas, Thos., 88 
 
INDEX. 221 
 
 Quotations from authors — co?itinued 
 Aristotle, 105 
 Arnold, Dr., 98 
 Arnold, Edwin, 108 
 Bacon, 140 
 Bastiat, 1 1 
 Bayle, 98 
 Bentham, J., 99 
 Berkeley, 84 
 Brougham, 118 
 Byron, 206 
 Cardan, J., 86 
 Churchill, 144 
 Emerson, 165 
 Fuller, 93 
 Galen, 104 
 Grindon, 100 
 Goethe, p. 65 
 Hume, 108 
 
 Jameson, Mrs., 98, 99 
 Johnson, Dr., 193 
 Lavater, 69 
 Machiavelli, 140 
 Montaigne, 91, 92 
 Morin, 95 
 Munro, 107 
 Nash, 107 
 North, 101 
 Ovid, 104 
 Petrarch, 93 
 Pliny, 29 
 Plutarch, 10 1 
 Pope, 121 
 
222 INDEX. 
 
 Quotations from authors — continued 
 
 Racine, 104 
 
 Ramage, 167 
 
 Richter, 153 
 
 Ruskin, p. 
 
 Schiller, 137, 197, 
 
 Schopenhauer, 191 
 
 Seneca, 87 
 
 Spinoza, 106 
 
 Steele, 122 
 
 Tennyson, 164 
 
 Tucker, 119, 194 
 
 Uhland, 125 
 
 Voltaire, 74 
 
 Walton, 123 
 
 Young, 96 
 
 Xenophanes, 108 
 From books, &c. : — 
 
 ' Beautiful Thoughts from German Authors,' 167 
 
 Bible, 67, 157 
 
 ' Bride of Messina,' 197 
 
 ' Common Book of Thoughts,' 99 
 
 ' Dialogues on Instinct,' 118 
 
 ' Dictionnaire philosophique,' 75 
 
 'Dream of Fair Women,' 164 
 
 'Echo,' 80 
 
 ' Faust, ' 49 
 
 1 Guardian,' 121 
 
 ' Harmonies Economiques,' 11 
 
 ' Hesperus,' 153 
 
 1 Hudibras,' 102 
 
 Koran, 157 
 
 ' Life of George Herbert,' 123 
 
INDEX. 223 
 
 Quotations from books, &c. — continued 
 
 1 Life, its Nature, Varieties, and Phenomena,' 100 
 
 1 Light of Nature Pursued,' 194 
 
 * Lucretius,' 107 
 
 Petrarch's 'Lives,' 101 
 
 ' Poets of Greece,' 108 
 
 'Querist,' 84 
 
 Racine, 104 
 
 'Revelation of St. Bridget,' 124 
 
 St. Francois d' Assise, 95 
 
 ' Summa Totius Theologize,' 88 
 
 ' Tatler,' 122 
 
 'Tractatus Teologico-politicus,' 106 
 
 4 Van Artevelde, P.,' 205 
 
 ' View of Human Life,' 93 
 Quarantine, International, 204 
 
 RACE, influence in the treatment of animals from, 12, 
 199 
 Racine, quotation from, 104 
 
 Ramage's 'Beautiful Thoughts from German Authors,' 167 
 Reasoning powers of animals, 65, 108 
 Rebelliousness of young people, 29 
 Regulations and liberty, 77 
 ' Remain, I do not,' 22 
 ' Reminds me that,' 52 
 Revelations of St. Bridget, 124 
 Richter, J. P., 153 
 Ridicule, evil effects of, 115 
 Rights of animals, 44-46 
 Rochefoucauld, want of a, among horses, 21 
 Romans and public cruelties, 92 
 Rogers, 181 
 
224 INDEX. 
 
 Ruskin, p. and 202 
 
 Russia, treatment of animals in, 200 
 
 ST. BRIDGET, Revelations of, 124 
 St. Francis d' Assise, 94 
 St. Hilaire, Isidore Geoffroy, on penguins, 105 
 Scamps, 30 
 Scandal, 25 
 
 Schiller, 36 ; quotation from, 137 
 Schopenhauer, 191 
 
 Scotch carters and the bearing-rein, 68 
 Scott, Sir W., in London, 180 
 Seneca, quotation from, 87 
 Sermons about animals, 20 
 Service, good, to be requited, 94 
 Shakespeare — regard for animals, 95 ; as a companion, 164 ; 
 
 Lord Palmerston and, 190 
 Sheep, loss of, from overcrowding, 15 
 Ships, cattle-carrying, 15 
 Shying horses, 59-60 
 Silence over grievances, 21 
 Sir Arthur restates arguments, 127 
 Smith, Sydney, 181 ; pamphlets, 6 
 Sons and fathers, 28 
 Sorrel nag, the, 22 
 
 South Kensington Museum anticipated, 84 
 Space to be allotted to beasts during transit, 116 
 Spaniards and cruelty, 125 
 Sport, 192 
 
 Subject of this book, choice of, 1 
 Sufferings of animals, 99 
 ' Summa Totius Theologiae,' 88 
 
INDEX. 22$ 
 
 Summary of conversation, Sir Arthur's, 127 
 
 Sunday rest for beasts, 63 
 
 Superstition, 41 
 
 Stafford's, Lord, letter to Walpole, 92 
 
 State interference, 77 
 
 — papers, writing, 36 
 
 Steadfastness, 168 
 
 Steele, quotation from, 122 
 
 Storms, effect of, on animals, 95 
 
 Symonds, Prof., 202 
 
 TACT, 208 
 Talking of the past, 173; and silence, 168 
 * Tatler,' quotation from, 122 
 Taylor, Sir H., 206 
 Temper, bad, 209 
 Tenderness to old age, 93 
 
 Tennyson, quotation from, 164 j as a companion, 181 
 "Tention,' 188 
 Thackeray's wit, 50 
 
 Theatrical performances, influences from, 122 
 Themes, writing, 37 
 
 Theories of Descartes, 88 ; respecting soul and matter, 89 
 Theorists, 86 
 Timidity of the horse, 59 
 Transit Committee, 14, 159 
 — of animals, 14, 116 
 1 Tractatus Theologico-politicus,' 103, 105 
 Travelling over people's minds, 72 
 
 T THLAND, quotation from, 125 
 
 Q 
 
226 1XDEX. 
 
 VAN ARTEVELDE, quotation from, 205 
 Virtue, Paley's definition of, 98 
 1 View of Human Life,' quotation from, 93 
 Vivisection, 43 ; Voltaire on, 75 
 Voltaire and Descartes, 73 
 Von Humboldt and companionship, 167 
 
 "\^7ALPOLE, Horace, letter to Lord Stafford, 92; 
 
 * * and Montaigne, 92 
 Walton, Isaac, 123 
 War, 20, 136 
 
 Water, life compared to boiling, 86 
 Waterton's love for animals, 54 
 Withers, J., 187, 20S 
 
 Women's influence in preventing cruelty, 43, 117, 208 
 Wordsworth, 181 
 
 Writing clearly, 33 ; Lord Palmerston's, 186 
 — and criticism, 146 
 
 X7 ENOPHANES, quotation from, 108 
 
 YOUNG people, Pliny on, 29 
 Young's ' Night Thoughts,' 96 
 
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 Post 8vo, 5s. 
 
 " The most charming love-story of the year." — Illustrated Times. 
 
 " It is, in fact, a fairy-book for men and women." — Westminster Review. 
 
2 DALDY, ISBISTER, & COSS BOOK LIST. 
 
 Duchess Agues aud other Poems. 
 
 By Isa Craig. Second Edition. Small 8vo, 5s. 
 
 "A book of verse which will certainly give Miss Craig a place among the 
 sisterhood of living singers Miss Craig's poems are far above the aver- 
 age, and possess such kindly qualities as will carry them home to many who do 
 not live by the sensational alone, but appreciate true feeling, however shy- 
 beauty, however subdued."— A thenaum. 
 
 Episodes iu au Obscure Life. 
 
 Fifth Edition. Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 " This book is the ' voice of one crying in the wilderness ;' a translation, true 
 and forcible, of the mute appeal of many thousand lives. We hope a large circle 
 of readers will study and profit by these reminiscences of the Tower Hamlets." 
 — A thenaum. 
 
 " The author is anonymous ; but, whoever he is, his name is genius." — Illus- 
 trated Times. 
 
 Hymns Selected from Faber. 
 
 By R. Pearsall Smith. Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt extra, 5s. Small 
 type Edition, sewed, is. 6d. 
 
 Pernyhurst Court. 
 
 An Everyday Story. By the Author of " Stone Edge." Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 " We are indebted to the author of ' Stone Edge ' for another excellent story. 
 Female character in all its types is most truly and vividly exemplified. ATe 
 cannot call to recollection a book in which women as distinguished froi 
 feminine lay figures have displayed so distinguished and diversified a part 
 Our author should win the gratitude of her sex for a series of charming portraits 
 of what hundreds of English ladies are and may be." — Athenceum. 
 
 Frieuds aud Acquaintances. 
 
 By the Author of " Episodes in an Obscure Life." Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 " Every one will remember how the writer, in his former work, gave us some 
 glimpses of the country, which were made more beautiful by the dark contrast 
 with the squalid life in London alleys and courts. These glimpses have now 
 expanded into chapters full of pleasant pictures of country scenery and farm- 
 house life. We have never read anything more pastoral and more truly idyllic 
 than ' Travels behind a Plough,' and ' Horseshoe Meadow.' These chapters 
 are worth whole circulating libraries of fashionable novels.'" — Westminster 
 Review. 
 
 De Profundis. 
 
 A Tale of the Social Deposits. By William Gilbert. Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 "Mr. Gilbert's novels do more to enlarge the field of actual experience than 
 those of any other writer of the day. . . . Defoe and Mr. Gilbert alone of English 
 novelists seem to give the ore of English life, while other novelists of equal power 
 give only the extracted metal. . . . We think ' De Profundis ' the most powerful 
 of Mr. Gilbert's powerful stories." — Spectator. 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 DOCTOR AUSTIN'S GUESTS. s SHIRLEY HALL ASYLUM. 
 Crown 8vo, 6s. Post 8vo, 10s. 6d. 
 
POETRY AND FICTION. 
 
 i 
 o 
 
 Occupations of a Retired Life. 
 
 By Edward Garrett. Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 " Whoever this author may be, he is worthy of a criticism which few critics 
 have the good luck to be able to pronounce more than once or twice in a life- 
 time If this is not the epitome of a real old man's diary, it is the best 
 
 imitation of reality we have ever come across. We commend these 'Occupa- 
 tions ' to the attention of everybody." — Athenaum. * 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 THE CRUST AND THE CAKE. 
 Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 PREMIUMS PAID TO EXPE- 
 RIENCE. 
 
 Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 CROOKED PLACES. 
 
 A Family Chronicle. With 
 Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 " Full of incident, written in a bright, 
 crisp, epigrammatic manner." — Non- 
 conformist. 
 
 Poems. 
 
 By Dora Greenwell. Enlarged Edition. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 6s. 
 
 " Here is a poet as true as George Herbert, or Henry Vaughan, or our own 
 Cowper. We advise our readers to possess the book, and get the joy and the 
 surprise of so much real thought and feeling. It is a cardiphonia set to music." 
 — North British Review. 
 
 Ivan de Biron ; 
 
 Or, The Russian Court in the Middle of the Last Century. By the 
 Author of " Friends in Council." Third Edition. Post 8vo, 6s. 6d. 
 
 " Sir Arthur Helps has not neglected the opportunities offered by his story for 
 showing his especial strength, and we have to thank him for what is rare in 
 these days — a fresh, original, and instructive novel." — Times. 
 
 "At once an admirable novel, a curious historical study, and an interesting 
 
 collection of profound reflections on life, society, and literature It is full 
 
 of the most original and most delicate touches." — Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 " The most stirring and popular novel Sir Arthur Helps has written." — British 
 Quarterly Review. 
 
 Living Voices. 
 
 Selections from Recent Poetry. With a Preface by the Archbishop 
 of Canterbury. Small 8vo, cloth extra, 4s. 6d. 
 
 " We do not know any volume of poetry containing so large a number of 
 popular favourites, and published in so cheap and handy a form." — Examiner v 
 
 The Rivulet. 
 
 A Contribution to Sacred Song. By the late T. T. Lynch. Small 
 8vo, 3s. 6d. 
 
 " We are glad to welcome a new edition of Mr. Lynch's exquisite collection of 
 sacred songs, enlarged to almost double its original dimensions. The supple- 
 mentary poems are fully equal to those originally published." — Nonconformist. 
 
 " Whatever beauty comes from broad and liberal views of truth, and from a 
 most genuine tenderness of feeling, is never wanting." — Spectator. 
 
DALDY, ISBISTER, & CO.'S BOOK LIST. 
 
 Loudon Lyrics. 
 
 By Frederick Locker. 
 
 Seventh Edition. Small 8vo, 6s. 
 
 "A more delicious companion on a spring ramble, or in those idle moments 
 
 when the mind requires dainty fare, it would be difficult to meet with In 
 
 his best mood, half-playful, half-pathetic, Mr. Locker has in his own line no 
 rival now living." — Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 Annals of a Quiet Neighbourhood. 
 
 By George MacDonald, LL.D. Fifth Thousand. Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 " It is as full of music as was Prospero's island ; rich in strains that take the 
 ear captive and linger long upon it." — Saturday Review. 
 
 " Whoever reads this story once will read it many times. It shows an almost 
 supernatural insight into the workings of the human heart." — Pall Mall 
 Gazette. 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 THE SEABOARD PARISH. 
 Third Thousand. Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 WILFRID CUMBERMEDE. 
 Third Thousand. Post 8vo, 6s. 
 
 WORKS OF FANCY AND IMAGINATION ; 
 
 Being a Reprint of Poetical and other Works. Pocket-volume 
 Edition, in neat case, £2 2s. 
 
 The Volumes are sold separately — /. and VII. at 5s., the others at 4s. each. 
 
 "Mr. George MacDonald is one of the few living authors who, while they 
 enjoy a considerable reputation, are greater than their repute. His books are 
 well known, are largely read, and are highly esteemed ; but, much as they have 
 been praised, there is matter in them which has never been praised enough. . . . 
 These ten little green-and-gold volumes, enclosed in a handsome case, contain 
 all the author's poems, including 'Within and Without,' ' Phantastes,' 'The 
 Portent,' and a charming collection of tales. They abound with a pure, a 
 delicate, and yet a vigorous fancy." — Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 The Starling. 
 
 By Norman Macleod, D.D. With Illustrations by W. Sma,ll. 
 
 Third Thousand. Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 "Dr. Macleod's style is admirable. His keen insight and power of analysis 
 enable him to draw, not mere stock characters, but real living men and women. 
 In many respects, especially in the way in which he draws the lower Scotch 
 orders, he reminds us of George Eliot. But, above his artistic power, we value 
 the spirit of the tale. Such a story as this, with the fine manly character of 
 the Serjeant, ought, in these days of vile sensationalism, to be doubly welcomed. 
 We emphatically commend it to our readers." — Westminster Review. 
 
 4 
 
 Forgotten by the World. 
 
 By Mrs. Macquoid, Author of " Patty," &c. Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 Gold Elsie. 
 
 By E. Marlitt, Author of "The Old Maid's Secret' ' Crown 8vo, 5s. 
 
 " The book is purity itself. It has throughout the fresh, bright air of the 
 Thuringian forests ; and it gives with admirable simplicity a good view of 
 German life. It will please all who read it through ; nobody can feel anything 
 but regret when the last page has been read." — Scotsman. 
 
POETRY AND FICTION. 5 
 
 Homer's Iliad in English Rhymed Verse. 
 
 By Charles Merivale, D.C.L., Dean of Ely. 2 vols., demy 8vo, 
 
 cloth extra, 24s. 
 
 " The English reader of this translation will gain a more complete conception 
 of the great Hellenic epic than has ever yet been possible for him." — Times. 
 
 My Mother and I. 
 
 By the Author of " John Halifax." With Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 
 cloth extra, 5s. 
 
 The Red Flag and other Poems. 
 
 By the Hon. Roden Noel. Small 8vo, 6s. 
 
 " There are poetry and power of a high order in the volume before us. The 
 ' Red Flag ' is a terrible and thunderous poem. There are fine sympathies with 
 the sorrows of London life and wonderful knowledge of them. Perhaps one of 
 the most solemn, awful poems of the present century is ' The Vision of the 
 Desert.* " — British Quarterly Review. 
 
 Oulita, the Serf. 
 
 A Tragedy. By the Author of " Friends in Council." Pocket-volume 
 Edition. Cloth extra, 5s. 
 
 "The finest closet play of modern days." — Westminster Review. 
 
 " The work has long ago taken its place among our standard works of English 
 authors. This edition is a very handy one, fit forthe drawing-room table or the 
 pocket of the student." — Standard. 
 
 Dorothy Pox. 
 
 By Mrs. Parr. Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 u Dorothy is represented as charming all hearts, and she will charm all 
 readers .' ' — Times. 
 
 Peasant Life in the North. 
 
 First Series, crown 8vo, 6s. Second Series, crown 8vo, 9s. 
 
 " For graphic portraiture, dramatic clearness, and intense realism of manner 
 this volume stands almost by itself. ... A better book as a judicious alterative 
 to the exciting circulating-library course of reading could scarcely be con- 
 ceived." — Contemporary Review. 
 
 Lazarus and other Poems. 
 
 By E. H. Plumptre, M.A., Professor of Divinity, King's College, 
 
 London. Third Edition. Crown 8vo, 5s. 
 
 " Rich in the results of modern culture ; . . . . beyond mistake the outpour- 
 ings of an earnest and affectionate mind." — Guardian. 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 MASTER AND SCHOLAR, &c. 
 
 Crown 8vo, 5s. 
 
 THE TRAGEDIES OF SOPHO- 
 CLES. 
 
 A New Translation, with an 
 Appendix of Rhymed Choruses. 
 3rd Edition. Crown 8vo, 7s. 6d. 
 
 THE TRAGEDIES OF 2ES- 
 CHYLOS. 
 
 A New Translation, with a Bio- 
 graphical Essay and an Appen- 
 dix of Rhymed Choruses. 2nd 
 Edition. Crown 8vo, 7s. 6d. 
 
I . //L >f/ 
 
 6 DALDY, ISBISTER, & CO.' S BOOJ& LJ^Q 
 
 A Tragedy. By Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. Translated in 
 the original metres by Bayard Taylor. 2 vols., post 8vo, 28s. 
 
 " It can be safely maintained that the rich and varied music of ' Faust ' has 
 never before been as faithfully represented to English ears." — Saturday Review. 
 
 Saint Abe and his Seven Wives. 
 
 A Tale of Salt Lake City. Fourth and Enlarged Edition. Crown 
 8vo, 5s. 
 
 "The work is masterly." — Graphic. "Amazingly clever." — Nonconformist. 
 " Pope would have been proud of these terrible lines." — Spectator. ""Would 
 that in England we had humorists who could write as well." — Temple Bar. 
 
 Lars. 
 
 A Pastoral of Norway. By Bayard Taylor. Small 8vo, 3s. 6d. 
 
 " There can be no question but the Norwegian pastoral ' Lars ' is altogether 
 the finest poem Mr. Bayard Taylor has written, and not this only, but one of the 
 purest, most sweetly moralised romances, which English verse of this time can 
 show." — Atlantic Monthly. 
 
 The Huguenot Family in the English Village. 
 
 By Sarah Tytler. With Illustrations. Third Thousand. Crown 
 8vo, 6s. 
 
 " Grand'mere Dupuy is the finest creation of English fiction since Romola. 
 The Parson's daughters would do no discredit to Oliver Goldsmith." — Morning 
 Post. 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 LADY BELL. 
 
 A Story of Last Century. With 
 Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 "NOBLESSE OBLIGE." 
 
 An English Story of To-day. 
 Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 Fhiloctetes. 
 
 A Metrical Drama after the Antique. By John Leicester Warren. 
 
 Crown 8vo, 4s. 6d. 
 
 "The modern ' Philoctetes ' will be read with pleasure by those who have 
 loved and admired the old. It deserves to the full as high a place in the litera- 
 ture of our time as Mr. Arnold's ' Merope,' or Mr. Swinburne's 'Atalanta in 
 Calydon.' " — Contemporary Review. 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 ORESTES. 
 
 A Metrical Drama after the 
 
 Antique. Crown 8vo, 4s. 6d. 
 
 SEARCHING THE NET. 
 
 A Book of Verses. Cr. 8vo, 6s, 
 
 REHEARSALS. 
 Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 White Rose and Red. 
 
 A Love Story. By the Author of "St. Abe." Second Edition. Crown 
 
 8vo, 6s. 
 
 "A poem of real genius and true beauty." — Spectator. 
 " It is impossible to convey by quotation a true idea of its merits."- 
 Athenaum. 
 
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