_Prejudice is at first a Guide to Knowledge, but
afterwards a Gaoler of Thought._
The average Englishman prefers to have his knowledge well formulated
and well classified in what one may call a portable and handy form. To
such an one it seems desirable to have certain general propositions
about the animal creation which, regardless of small subtleties and
differences, he may use as a guide for practical action. As, for
instance, “that man is governed by reason but the brutes by instinct”;
“that the cat, though eminently domestic, is selfish, egotistic, and
luxurious; whereas the dog is generous, affectionate, and faithful”;
that “cats care for places and not for people.”
Many more such maxims may be mentioned, some of which imply a certain
amount of observation, as, for instance, that the parrot possesses an
imitative instinct.
Those who have this guide to knowledge will tell you that they like or
do not like “the character of the cat,” and will ask if you like cats
or dogs best.
So some one once asked me whether I liked poetry, and when I asked
“whose poetry?” instanced that of the Marquis of Lorne.
But in the first case, too, it would seem to be a relevant point to
ask which dog and which cat; and to those who profess not to like “the
character” of the cat one might put first the counter-question as to
whether they like “the character” of the human being.
As it is well from time to time to compare the best established maxims
and formulæ with the results of recent experience and observation; so,
although the foregoing principles are extensive enough and fundamental
enough to satisfy the greediest grasp after truth, it may not be amiss
to compare them with observation of individuals; to compare the general
propositions concerning the character of the cat with observations
on certain individual cats; the common contempt of birds-wits with
observation of individual birds; and to find out the essential point
which makes us so certain that similar processes in the man and the
brute are in one case the work of reason and in the other case of
instinct.
Perhaps we might even come to think that man has some share of
instinct, and the brute some dawnings of reason.
Let us face this result boldly, even if it leads us to stammer a little
over the irrefragable proposition that, since animals have no souls,
this present life contains not only all that they must suffer, but all
that they may enjoy; even if it should make us doubt the perfectness
of our scientific grasp of spiritual things, and should seem to lead
back to such old doctrines as Peter’s belief in the restitution of
all things, and St. Paul’s hope of the deliverance of the suffering
creature into the glorious liberty of children of God.