CHAPTER VIII.

LINES OF REFORM.

Having now applied the principle with which we started to the several

cases where it appears to be most flagrantly overlooked, we are in a

better position to estimate the difficulties and the possibilities

of its future acceptance. Our investigation of animals’ rights has

necessarily been, in large measure, an enumeration of animals’ wrongs,

a story of cruelty and injustice which might have been unfolded in far

greater and more impressive detail, had there been any reason for here

repeating what has been elsewhere established by other writers beyond

doubt or dispute.

But my main purpose was to deal with a general principle rather than

with particular instances; and enough has already been said to show

that, while man has much cause to be grateful to the lower animals for

the innumerable services rendered by them, he can hardly pride himself

on the record of the counter-benefits which they have received at his

hands.

“If we consider,” says Primatt, “the excruciating injuries offered

on our part to the brutes, and the patience on their part; how

frequent _our_ provocation, and how seldom _their_ resentment (and in

some cases _our_ weakness and _their_ strength, _our_ slowness and

_their_ swiftness); one would be almost tempted to suppose that the

brutes had combined in one general scheme of benevolence, to teach

mankind lessons of mercy and meekness by their own forbearance and

longsuffering.”

It is unwise, no doubt, to dwell too exclusively on the wrongs of which

animals are the victims; it is still more unwise to ignore them as

they are to-day ignored by the large majority of mankind. It is full

time that this question were examined in the light of some rational

and guiding principle, and that we ceased to drift helplessly between

the extremes of total indifference on the one hand, and spasmodic,

partially-applied compassion on the other. We have had enough, and too

much, of trifling with this or that isolated aspect of the subject,

and of playing off the exposure of somebody else’s insensibility by

way of a balance for our own, as if a _tu quoque_ were a sufficient

justification of a man’s moral delinquencies.

The terrible sufferings that are quite needlessly inflicted on the

lower animals under the plea of domestic usage, food-demands, sport,

fashion, and science, are patent to all who have the seeing eye and

the feeling heart to apprehend them; those sufferings will not be

lessened, nor will man’s responsibility be diminished by any such

irrelevant assertions as that vivisection is less cruel than sport, or

sport less cruel than butchering,--nor yet by the contrary contention

that vivisection, or sport, or flesh-eating, as the case may be, is the

prime origin of all human inhumanity. We want a comprehensive principle

which will cover all these varying instances, and determine the true

lines of reform.

Such a principle, as I have throughout insisted, can only be found

in the recognition of the right of animals, as of men, to be exempt

from any unnecessary suffering or serfdom, the right to live a natural

life of “restricted freedom,” subject to the real, not supposed or

pretended, requirements of the general community. It may be said, and

with truth, that the perilous vagueness of the word “necessary” must

leave a convenient loop-hole of escape to anyone who wishes to justify

his own treatment of animals, however unjustifiable that treatment may

appear; the vivisector will assert that his practice is necessary in

the interests of science, the flesh-eater that he cannot maintain his

health without animal food, and so on through the whole category of

systematic oppression.

The difficulty is an inevitable one. No form of words can be devised

for the expression of rights, human or animal, which is not liable

to some sort of evasion; and all that can be done is to fix the

responsibility of deciding between what is necessary and unnecessary,

between factitious personal wants and genuine social demands, on those

in whom is vested the power of exacting the service or sacrifice

required. The appeal being thus made, and the issue thus stated, it may

be confidently trusted that the personal conscience of individuals and

the public conscience of the nation, acting and reacting in turn on

each other, will slowly and surely work out the only possible solution

of this difficult and many-sided problem.

For that the difficulties involved in this animal question are many and

serious, no one, I imagine, would dispute, and certainly no attempt

has been made in this essay to minimize or deny them. It may suit

the purpose of those who would retard all humanitarian progress to

represent its advocates as mere dreamers and sentimentalists--men

and women who befool themselves by shutting their eyes to the fierce

struggle that is everywhere being waged in the world of nature, while

they point with virtuous indignation to the iniquities perpetrated

by man. But it is possible to be quite free from any sentimental

illusions, and yet to hold a very firm belief in the principle of

animals’ rights. We do not deny, or attempt to explain away, the

existence of evil in nature, or the fact that the life of the lower

races, as of mankind, is based to a large degree on rapine and

violence; nor can we pretend to say whether this evil will ever be

wholly amended. It is therefore confessedly impossible, at the present

time, to formulate an entirely and logically consistent philosophy of

rights; but that would be a poor argument against grappling with the

subject at all.

Nor are the hard unmistakable facts of the situation, when viewed in

their entirety, by any means calculated to inspire with confidence

the opponents of humane reform. For, if it be true that internecine

competition is a great factor in the economy of nature, it is no less

true, as has been already pointed out, that co-operation is also a

great factor therein. Furthermore, though there are many difficulties

besetting the onward path of humanitarianism, an even greater

difficulty has to be faced by those who refuse to proceed along that

path, viz., the fact--a stronger fact than any that can be produced

on the other side--that the instinct of compassion and justice to the

lower animals has already been so largely developed in the human

conscience as to obtain legislative recognition. If the theory of

animals’ rights is a mere idealistic phantasy, it follows that we have

long ago committed ourselves to a track which can lead us nowhither.

Is it then proposed that we should retrace our steps, with a view to

regaining the antique position of savage and consistent callousness;

or are we to remain perpetually in our present meaningless attitude,

admitting the moral value of a partially awakened sensibility, yet

opposing an eternal _non possumus_ to any further improvement? Neither

of these alternatives is for a moment conceivable; it is perfectly

certain that there will still be a forward movement, and along the same

lines as in the past.

Nor need we be at all disconcerted by the derisive inquiries of our

antagonists as to the final outcome of such theories. “There is some

reason to hope,” said the author of the ironical “Vindication of the

Rights of Brutes,” “that this essay will soon be followed by treatises

on the rights of vegetables and minerals, and that thus the doctrine of

perfect equality will become universal.” To which suggestion we need

only answer, “Perhaps.” It is for each age to initiate its own ethical

reforms, according to the light and sensibility of its own instincts;

further and more abstruse questions, at present insoluble, may safely

be left to the more mature judgment of posterity. The human conscience

furnishes the safest and simplest indicator in these matters. We know

that certain acts of injustice affect us as they did not affect our

forefathers--it is our duty to set these right. It is not our duty to

agitate problems, which, at the present date, excite no unmistakable

moral feeling.

The humane instinct will assuredly continue to develop. And it

should be observed that to advocate the rights of animals is far

more than to plead for compassion or justice towards the victims of

ill-usage; it is not only, and not primarily, for the sake of the

victims that we plead, but for the sake of mankind itself. Our true

civilization, our race-progress, our _humanity_ (in the best sense

of the term) are concerned in this development; it is ourselves, our

own vital instincts, that we wrong, when we trample on the rights of

the fellow-beings, human or non-human, over whom we chance to hold

jurisdiction.

This most important point is constantly overlooked by the opponents of

humanitarian reform. They labour, unsuccessfully enough, to minimize

the complaints of animals’ wrongs, on the plea that these wrongs,

though great, are not so great as they are represented to be, and that

in any case it is not possible, or not urgently desirable, for man to

alleviate them. As if _human_ interests also were not intimately bound

up in every such compassionate endeavour!

And this brings us back to the moral of the whole matter. The idea of

Humanity is no longer confined to man; it is beginning to extend itself

to the lower animals, as in the past it has been gradually extended

to savages and slaves. “Behold the animals. There is not one but the

human soul lurks within it, fulfilling its destiny as surely as within

you.” So writes the author of “Towards Democracy”; and what has long

been felt by the poet is now being scientifically corroborated by the

anthropologist and philosopher. “The standpoint of modern thought,”

says Büchner,[44] “no longer recognizes in animals a difference of

kind, but only a difference of degree, and sees the principle of

intelligence developing through an endless and unbroken series.”

It is noteworthy that, on this point, evolutionary science finds itself

in agreement with oriental tradition.

“The doctrine of metempsychosis,” says Strauss,[45] “knits men and

beasts together here [in the East], and unites the whole of Nature

in one sacred and mysterious bond. The breach between the two was

opened in the first place by Judaism, with its hatred of the Gods

of Nature, next by the dualism of Christianity. It is remarkable

that at present a deeper sympathy with the animal world should have

arisen among the more civilized nations, which manifests itself here

and there in societies for the prevention of cruelty to animals. It

is thus apparent that what on the one hand is the product of modern

science--the giving up of the spiritualistic isolation of man from

Nature--reveals itself simultaneously through the channel of popular

sentiment.”

The true scientist and humanist is he who will reconcile brain to

heart, and show us how, without any sacrifice of what we have gained

in knowledge, we may resume what we have temporarily lost during the

process of acquiring that knowledge--the sureness of intuitive faculty

which is originally implanted in men and animals alike. Only by this

return to the common fount of feeling will it be possible for man

to place himself in right relationship towards the lower animals,

and to break down the fatal barrier of antipathy that he has himself

erected.[46] If we contrast the mental and moral attitude of the

generality of mankind towards the lower races with that of such men as

St. Francis or Thoreau, we see what far-reaching possibilities still

lie before us on this line of development.

A not altogether unjustifiable complaint is made against “lovers of

animals,” that they are often indifferent to the struggle for human

rights, while they concern themselves so eagerly over the interests

of the lower races. Equally true is the converse statement, that

many earnest reformers and philanthropists, men who have a genuine

passion for human liberty and progress, are coldly sceptical or even

bitterly hostile on the subject of the rights of animals. This organic

limitation of sympathies must be recognized and regretted, but it is

worse than useless for the one class of reformers to indulge in blame

or recrimination against the other. It is certain that they are both

working towards the same ultimate end; and if they cannot actually

co-operate, they may at least refrain from unnecessarily thwarting and

opposing each other.

The principles of justice, if they are to make solid and permanent

headway, must be applied with thoroughness and consistency. If there

are rights of animals, there must _à fortiori_ be rights of men;

and, as I have shown, it is impossible to maintain that an admission

of human rights does not involve an admission of animals’ rights

also. Now it may not always fall to the lot of the same persons to

advocate both kinds of rights, but these rights are, nevertheless,

being simultaneously and concurrently advocated; and those who are in

a position to take a clear and wide survey of the whole humanitarian

movement are aware that its final success is dependent on this broad

onward tendency.

The advent of democracy, imperfect though any democracy must be which

does not embrace all sentient beings within its scope, will be of

enormous assistance to the cause of animals’ rights, for under the

present unequal and inequitable social system there is no possibility

of those claims receiving their due share of attention. In the rush

and hurry of a competitive society, where commercial profit is avowed

to be the main object of work, and where the well-being of men and

women is ruthlessly sacrificed to that object, what likelihood is

there that the lower animals will not be used with a sole regard to

the same predominant purpose? Humane individuals may here and there

protest, and the growing conscience of the public may express itself in

legislation against the worst forms of palpable ill-usage, but the bulk

of the people simply cannot, and will not, treat animals as they ought

to be treated. Do the wealthy classes show any such consideration?

Let “amateur butchery” and “murderous millinery” be the answer. Can

it be wondered, then, that the “lower classes,” whose own rights are

existent far more in theory than in fact, should exhibit a feeling of

stolid indifference to the rights of the still lower animals? It is

to democracy, and the democratic sense of kinship and brotherhood,

extending first to mankind, and then to the lower races, that we must

look for future progress. The emancipation of men will bring with it

another and still wider emancipation--of animals.[47]

In conclusion, we are brought face to face with this practical

problem--by what means can we best provide for the attainment of the

end we have in view? What are the surest remedies for the present

wrongs, and the surest pledges for the future rights, of the victims of

human tyranny? There are two pre-eminently important methods, which are

sometimes regarded as contradictory in principle, but which, as I hope

to show, are not only quite compatible, but even mutually serviceable

and to some degree inter-dependent. We have no choice but to work

by one or the other of these methods, and, if we are wise, we shall

endeavour to work by both simultaneously, using the first as our chief

instrument of reform, the second as an auxiliary.

I. Education, in the largest sense of the term, has always been,

and must always remain, the indispensable condition of humanitarian

progress. Very excellent are the words of John Bright on the subject:

“Humanity to animals is a great point. If I were a teacher in a

school, I would make it a very important part of my business to

impress every boy and girl with the duty of his or her being kind to

all animals. It is impossible to say how much suffering there is in

the world from the barbarity or unkindness which people show to what

we call the inferior creatures.”

It may be doubted, however, whether the young will ever be specially

impressed with the lesson of humanity as long as the general tone of

their elders and instructors is one of cynical indifference, if not

of absolute hostility, to the recognition of animals’ rights.[48] It

is society as a whole, and not one class in particular, that needs

enlightenment and remonstrance; in fact, the very conception and scope

of what is known as a “liberal education” must be revolutionized and

extended. For if we find fault with the narrow and unscientific spirit

of what is known as “science,” we must in fairness admit that our

academic “humanities,” the _literæ humaniores_ of colleges and schools,

together with much of our modern culture and refinement, are scarcely

less deficient in the spirit of sympathy and brotherhood. This divorce

of “humanism” from humaneness is one of the subtlest dangers by which

society is beset; for, if we grant that love needs to be tempered and

directed by wisdom, still more needful is it that wisdom should be

informed and vitalized by love.

It is therefore not only our children who need to be educated in the

proper treatment of animals, but our scientists, our religionists, our

moralists, and our men of letters. For, in spite of the great progress

of humanitarian ideas during the past century, it must be confessed

that the popular exponents of western thought are still for the most

part quite unable to appreciate the profound truth of those words

of Rousseau, which should form the basis of an enlightened system of

instruction:

“Hommes, soyez humains! C’est votre premier devoir. Quelle sagesse y

a-t-il pour vous, hors de l’humanité?”

But how is this vast educational change to be inaugurated? Like all

far-reaching reforms which are promoted by a few believers in the

face of the public indifference, it can only be carried through by

the energy and resolution of its supporters. The efforts which the

various humane societies are now making in special directions, each

concentrating its attack on a particular abuse, must be supplemented

and strengthened by a crusade--an intellectual, literary, and social

crusade--against the central cause of oppression, viz.: the disregard

of the natural kinship between man and the animals, and the consequent

denial of their rights. We must insist on having the whole question

fully considered and candidly discussed, and must no longer permit

its most important issues to be shirked because it does not suit the

convenience or the prejudices of comfortable folk to give attention to

them.

Above all, the sense of ridicule that at present attaches to the

supposed “sentimentalism” of an advocacy of animals’ rights must be

faced and swept away. The fear of this absurd charge deprives the cause

of humanity of many workers who would otherwise lend their aid, and

accounts in part for the unduly diffident and apologetic tone which

is too often adopted by humanitarians. We must meet this ridicule,

and retort it without hesitation on those to whom it properly

pertains. The laugh must be turned against the true “cranks” and

“crotchet-mongers”--the noodles who can give no wiser reason for the

infliction of suffering on animals than that it is “better for the

animals themselves”--the flesh-eaters who labour under the pious belief

that animals were “sent” to us as food--the silly women who imagine

that the corpse of a bird is a becoming article of head-gear--the

half-witted sportsmen who vow that the vigour of the English race is

dependent on the practice of fox-hunting--and the half-enlightened

scientists who are unaware that vivisection has moral and spiritual,

no less than physical, consequences. That many of our arguments are

mere superficial sword-play, and do not touch the profound emotional

sympathies on which the cause of humanity rests, is a fact which

does not lessen their controversial significance. For this is a

case where those who take the sword shall perish by the sword; and

the clever men-of-the-world who twit consistent humanitarians with

sentimentality may perhaps discover that they themselves--fixed as they

are in an ambiguous and utterly untenable position--are the sickliest

sentimentalists of all.

II. Legislation, where the protection of harmless animals is concerned,

is the fit supplement and sequel to education, and the objections urged

against it are for the most part unreasonable. It must inevitably

fail in its purpose, say some; for how can the mere passing of a

penal statute prevent the innumerable unwitnessed acts of cruelty and

oppression which make up the great total of animal suffering? But the

purpose of legislation is not merely thus preventive. Legislation

is the record, the register, of the moral sense of the community;

it follows, not precedes, the development of that moral sense, but

nevertheless in its turn reacts on it, strengthens it, and secures it

against the danger of retrocession. It is well that society should

proclaim, formally and decisively, its abhorrence of certain practices;

and I do not think it can be doubted, by those who have studied the

history of the movement, that the general treatment of domestic animals

in this country, bad as it still is, would be infinitely worse at this

day but for the legislation that dates from the passing of “Martin’s

Act” in 1822.

The further argument so commonly advanced, that “force is no remedy,”

and that it is better to trust to the good feeling of mankind than

to impose a legal restriction, is an amiable criticism which might

doubtless be applied with great effect to a large majority of our

existing penal enactments, but it is not very applicable to the case

under discussion. For if force is ever allowable, surely it is so when

it is applied for a strictly _defensive_ purpose, such as to safeguard

the weak and helpless from violence. The protection of animals by

statute marks but another step onward in that course of humanitarian

legislation which, among numerous triumphs, has abolished slavery and

passed the Factory Acts--always in the teeth of this same time-honoured

objection that “force is no remedy.” Equally fatuous is the assertion

that the administrators of the law cannot be trusted to adjudicate

between master and “beast.” It was long ago stated by Lord Erskine

that “to distinguish the severest discipline, for enforcing activity

and commanding obedience in such dependents, from brutal ferocity and

cruelty, never yet puzzled a judge or jury--never, at least, in my long

experience.”

Such arguments against the legal protection of animals were admirably

refuted by John Stuart Mill:

“The reason for legal intervention in favour of children apply not

less strongly to the case of those unfortunate slaves and victims

of the most brutal part of mankind, the lower animals. It is by the

grossest misunderstanding of the principles of Liberty that the

infliction of exemplary punishment on ruffianism practised towards

these defenceless beings has been treated as a meddling by Government

with things beyond its province--an interference with domestic life.

The domestic life of domestic tyrants is one of the things which it

is most imperative on the Law to interfere with. And it is to be

regretted that metaphysical scruples respecting the nature and source

of the authority of governments should induce many warm supporters of

laws against cruelty to the lower animals to seek for justification

of such laws in the incidental consequences of the indulgence of

ferocious habits to the interest of human beings, rather than in the

intrinsic merits of the thing itself. What it would be the duty of a

human being, possessed of the requisite physical strength, to prevent

by force, if attempted in his presence, it cannot be less incumbent

on society generally to repress. The existing laws of England are

chiefly defective in the trifling--often almost nominal--maximum to

which the penalty, even in the worst cases, is limited.”[49]

Only with the gradual progress of an enlightened sense of equality

shall we remedy these wrongs; and the object of our crusade should be

not so much to convert opponents (who, by the very disabilities and

limitations of their faculties, can never be really converted,) as to

set the confused problem in a clear light, and at least discriminate

unmistakably between our enemies and our allies. In all social

controversies the issues are greatly obscured by the babel of names

and phrases and cross arguments that are bandied to and fro; so that

many persons, who by natural sympathy and inclination are the friends

of reform, are found to be ranked among its foes; while not a few of

its foes, in similar unconsciousness, have strayed into the opposite

camp. To state the issues distinctly, and so attract and consolidate

a genuine body of support, is, perhaps, at the present time, the best

service that humanitarians can render to the movement they wish to

promote.

In conclusion, I would state emphatically that this essay is not an

appeal _ad misericordiam_ to those who themselves practise, or who

condone in others, the deeds against which a protest is here raised. It

is not a plea for “mercy” (save the mark!) to the “brute-beasts” whose

sole criminality consists in not belonging to the noble family of _homo

sapiens_. It is addressed rather to those who see and feel that, as has

been well said, “the great advancement of the world, throughout all

ages, is to be measured by the increase of humanity and the decrease of

cruelty”--that man, to be truly man, must cease to abnegate his common

fellowship with all living nature--and that the coming realization of

human rights will inevitably bring after it the tardier but not less

certain realization of the rights of the lower races.

APPENDIX

I

THE TERM “RIGHTS”[50]

It was argued by Mr. D. G. Ritchie, in his book on “Natural Rights,”

that though “we may be said to have duties of _kindness towards_ the

animals,” it is “incorrect to represent these as strictly _duties

towards_ the animals themselves, as if they had rights against us.”

(The italics are Mr. Ritchie’s.) I take this to mean that, in man’s

“duty of kindness,” it is the “kindness” only that has reference to

animals, the “duty” being altogether the private affair of the man.

The kindness is, so to speak, the water, and the duty is the tap; and

the convenience of this arrangement is that the man can shut off the

kindness whenever it suits him to do so; as, for example, it suited Mr.

Ritchie in regard to the question of vivisection.

It is strange that ethical authorities should thus hold, as Catholic

theologians do, that we owe no direct duties to animals, and that

animals not being “persons” have, strictly speaking, no rights. Indeed,

so entertaining did the very idea of the “personality” of animals

appear to Mr. Ritchie that he waxed humorous in his desire to know

whether a sponge is a “person” or “several persons,” and whether the

parasites on a dog are to be respected as “persons,” and so forth.

On the other side, the humanitarian contention is quite clear--that

there is no difference _in kind_ between man and the other animals,

nor any warrant in science or ethics for drawing between them, as

between “persons” and “things,” an absolute line of demarcation.

Compelled to admit that the difference is only one of degree, Mr.

Ritchie sought to evade the significance of this fact by arguing that

it does not follow that, if men have rights, animals also have rights

“in the same sense of the term.” I maintain that it _does_ so follow.

If by the recognition of rights we mean that man, as a sentient and

intelligent being, should be exempt from all avoidable suffering, it

follows that other beings who are also sentient and intelligent, though

in a lower degree, should have, in a lower degree, the same exemption.

This principle, if pressed to its extreme logical conclusion, will of

course lead, like all other principles, to what Mr. Ritchie called

“difficult questions of casuistry,” and will open a door for small

jokes about the personality of parasites and sponges.

Then, again, it is too often overlooked that the rights claimed for

animals, as for men, are not absolute but conditional (“this restricted

freedom” is Herbert Spencer’s expression), and that a recognition of

the rights of other beings is not incompatible with an equal assertion

of one’s own. Self-defence is the first and most obvious right of

everyone. If, for instance, we hold that a tiger has a right to be

spared any unnecessary torture, are we compelled on that account to

allow him to eat us if he comes out of his cage? And how would our

shooting the tiger, under those untoward circumstances, prove that the

tiger is not a “person,” inasmuch as murderers and _human_ tigers, are

similarly treated under similar conditions? This “tiger” argument, to

which Professor Ritchie was much addicted, is really very small game.

1895.

II

THE NEO-CARTESIANS[51]

Attempts are still made, from time to time, to revive the old Cartesian

doctrine that animals do not feel pain. Thus Mr. E. Kay Robinson, in

a book entitled “The Religion of Nature” (1906) has sought to bring

peace and comfort to the minds of his readers, and to reconcile the

seeming cruelties of Nature with the existence of a merciful God, by

proving that the non-human races, unlike mankind, have no consciousness

of suffering, even when they exhibit all the symptoms of pain and show

a dread of its recurrence. This is nothing but the ancient doctrine

of Descartes in a new garb, and is itself the outcome of the old

anthropocentric view of the world.

On the practical results that would follow the general acceptance

of Mr. Robinson’s theories it is hardly worth while to speculate.

He himself is at pains to suggest that while the Cartesian doctrine

undoubtedly led to cruelty in the past, the modern Robinsonian version

of it would have the opposite effect. I greatly doubt it. For to

whatever extent it is true that animals are unconscious of pain, to the

same extent it must be true that there is no “cruelty” (in the true

sense of the term) in “paining” them. An enlightened man, no doubt,

will avoid any tyrannical interference with the lives of other beings,

whether they are conscious or not, but the majority of men are not

enlightened, nor in any hurry to become so; we are living, in fact, in

an age of very gross and palpable savagery, out of which nothing can

lift us but the growing sense of kinship. Mr. Robinson’s book is one of

the latest attempts--and, in some respects, the feeblest--to impair in

a very important respect this sense of close kinship between the human

and the non-human, and for that reason I regard it as very mischievous

in its tendency. As a fair instance of Mr. Robinson’s logic, let us

take his triumphant citation of the fact that even a human being, when

engaged in some desperate and painful struggle, is often conscious, for

the moment, of neither fear nor pain. From this Mr. Robinson quietly

assumes that animals are _always_ thus unconscious, because (_a_) some

of their actions and emotions are so, and (_b_) “we have no right to

suppose that one action or emotion of an animal is more conscious than

another.” But, on the contrary, we have every right to suppose that

consciousness varies in animals, as in men, as may be gathered from the

indifference which two fighting dogs will show to the blows rained upon

them by their owners, though at a moment of less excitement the same

blows would elicit the most obvious signs of pain.

The _crux_ of the whole problem lies here--in the meaning of the

gestures by which animals appear to indicate that, like human beings,

they are conscious of their various emotions, and it is by his chapter

on “Actions of Animals Explained” that Mr. Robinson’s treatise must be

judged. Humanitarians entirely reject his dogmatic assertion (to take

a typical example) that “a dog’s exhibition of distress when separated

from its master and mistress is only the working of the strong instinct

of the gregarious, hunting animal, needing the primary factor of his

life, namely, a leader to follow.” Not a particle of real proof can

be given in support of such statements, and it is upon foundations of

this kind that the “Religion of Nature” is built. And here there come

to mind those trenchant words of Mr. Cunninghame Graham, which exactly

describe the tone and method of Mr. Robinson’s argument:

“Instinct and reason; the hypothetical difference which good weak

men use as an anæsthetic, when their conscience pricks them for

their sins of omission and commission to their four-footed brethren.

But a distinction wholly without a difference, and a link in the

long chain of fraud and force with which we bind all living things,

men, animals, and most of our reasoning selves, in one crass

neutral-tinted slavery.”

III

MOTOR VERSUS HORSE[52]

“After many centuries of usefulness,” so it is said, “the horse is

about to be retired from active service as an agent in locomotion.”

Electricity, petrol, and cable tramcars are to be the chief factors

in this change, which will replace horsepower by the greater energies

of mechanical invention, and will make it possible to ride a hundred

miles “for about a shilling.” Looking at the matter as humanitarians

we are heartily pleased at the prospect. To be sure, it is not

very creditable to the good feelings of mankind that, “after many

centuries of usefulness,” the horse should be “retired,” not because

we are ashamed of the ill-usage he has received, but because we have

discovered a cheaper method of traction; nor is it pleasant to reflect

on the countless myriads of undeserved blows and curses that have

descended on our faithful friend and helper during the period of his

service. But letting that pass, as one of the many blots with which the

pages of history are disfigured, we rejoice to think that the wretched

system of horse-traction is perhaps drawing to a close, and we trust

that the present century will see it legally prohibited in England, as

dog-traction has already been.

No doubt we shall hear a lot of sentimental talk about the picturesque

beauty of the horse, the ugliness of machinery, and so forth; but

we shall know what to reply to such “æsthetic” arguments, with the

experience before us (or, let us hope, _behind_ us) of the hackney-cab,

the tramcar, and the tradesman’s cart and wagon. The usage of the

horse, in our so-called civilization, has reached a pitch of sordid

deformity which, even if regarded solely from the point of view of

the artist, makes it impossible to advance any valid argument against

the motor-car. However unromantic such mechanical conveyance may be,

it will at least save us from the unseemly sights that have outraged

every sense of beauty, decency and humaneness. The motor will not

be recklessly overloaded; it will not be cursed, and thrashed, and

wrenched out of its natural shape by way of an outlet for the savage

temper of its driver; for curiously enough, the lifeless machine will

be treated with far more respect, and in a far more rational spirit,

than the living animal, and the conductor who should ill-use a car,

as horses are now ill-used, would be promptly conveyed to the nearest

police-cell or lunatic-asylum.

But what, it may be asked, is to become of the horse himself, in the

new age of machinery? Is “retirement,” in his case, to be the same

thing as extinction? We do not know; but we know this--that, in the

case of our “beasts of burden,” merciful extinction is a preferable

fate to what is humorously called “preservation.” Centuries hence,

perhaps, some learned antiquarian will reconstruct, from such

anatomical data as may be available, the gaunt, misshapen, pitiable

figure of the London cab-horse, and a more humane and enlightened

posterity will shudder at the sight of what we still regard as a

legitimate “agent in locomotion.”

From _The Humanitarian_.

1896.

IV

ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS.[53]

Some fifty or sixty years ago the poet, James Thomson (“B.V.”), wrote

as follows in his journal:--

“It being a very wet Sunday, I had to keep in, and paced much,

prisoner-like, to and fro my room. This reminded me of the wild

beasts at Regent’s Park, and especially of the great wild birds,

the vultures and eagles. How they must suffer! How long will it be

ere the thought of such agonies becomes intolerable to the public

conscience, and wild creatures be left at liberty when they need not

be killed. Three or four centuries, perhaps.”

This gloomy prognostication hardly seems likely to be fulfilled,

for there has lately been a great awakening of the conscience, if

not of the general public, at least of the humaner section of it,

and much improvement in the condition of the wild animals in the

“Zoo” has now been effected. Ever since its establishment in 1891

the Humanitarian League has been drawing attention to the cruelty of

cellular imprisonment for animals as for men, and it is therefore with

legitimate satisfaction that humanitarians note the introduction of a

reform which they were the first to advocate. Here, for example, is an

extract from a pamphlet which I wrote for the League in 1895, under the

title of “A Zoophilist at the Zoo”:--

“‘Christianos ad leones’ was the cry of the heathen persecutors in

ages long past, when the Christian martyrs were flung to the lions

in the Roman amphitheatre. Time has now had his revenges; but we do

not know that the new version of ‘Christianos ad leones,’ as daily

exemplified in the stream of visitors to the lion-houses at the Zoo,

is altogether edifying. Indeed, it has sometimes occurred to us, when

musing on that strange medley of thoughtless sight-seers, who derive

an unaccountable pleasure from staring at the wretched life-prisoners

in our great animal convict-station, that the infra-human is not

always confined to the inner side of the bars, and that there was

some force in Thoreau’s epigram that God made man ‘a little lower

than the _animals_.’ Well, we must hope for better things in the

future. Less than a century ago it was the fashion to cage pauper

lunatics where passers-by could see them; and benevolent nurses,

when inclined to give a treat to the children in their charge, would

pleasantly take them to have a peep at the frenzied ravings of the

maniacs. We marvel now to hear of such inhumanity, but it may be that

a future generation will equally marvel to hear that the sight of

caged animals--those martyrs of Christian civilization--could give

any satisfaction to the children, and the grown-up children to whom a

“Zoo” is a Paradise.

“It all depends on how we look at these things. At present menageries

are simply part of the whole system which regards the lower animals

as mere goods and chattels, created for the use and amusement of

mankind, without any definite claim, in return, to a free and healthy

existence. The animals are no more than subjects for the museum or

menagerie, the laboratory or dissecting-room. Does a rare bird alight

on our shores? Our object is to knock it down first, and, as the

taxidermists say, ‘set it up’ afterwards; or, if it still lives, to

confine it in a cage or aviary. The London Gardens are doubtless a

great deal better than many other menageries; but our whole method of

treating animals is stupid and barbarous. We want a more humane and

intelligent appreciation of animal life, and that sense of _kinship_

which would make us desirous of seeing our rudimentary brethren under

happier and more natural conditions.

And, after all, we have ourselves paid the penalty for our lack of

humanity, by the loss of humour that accompanied it; for the bathos

of the notices that used to meet us at every turn in the Gardens was

very depressing to those who were alive enough to feel it. The Bengal

Tigers’ den labelled, ‘Beware of Pickpockets’! The Eagles’ Aviaries

labelled, ‘To the Refreshment Rooms’! Were ever such incongruous

ideas set in such ludicrous proximity? There, disconsolate in

durance vile, sat the fabled Bird of Jove, who bore off Ganymede to

be the god’s cup-bearer, while, within a few yards, the _modern_

Ganymede was serving out coffees and lemon-squashes, and enjoying

(though perhaps he knew it not) the most complete vengeance on the

great Raptor who enslaved him.”

The most powerful indictment of the Zoological Gardens, as they were,

was the series of articles contributed by Mr. Edmund Selous to the

_Saturday Review_ in 1901, and afterwards reprinted as a pamphlet by

the Humanitarian League, under the title “The Old Zoo and the New,”

a picture of what the Zoo actually was, as contrasted with what it

might become. It was the publication of this trenchant criticism,

synchronizing as it did with a movement for reform within the

Zoological Society itself, that brought about the present improved

state of public opinion as to the management of the Gardens, and caused

the _Daily Mail_, that enterprising journal which is ready to exploit

even humanitarian ideas when they seem likely to be popular, to publish

a number of caustic articles on “The Tortured Animals at the Zoo.”

From America comes the same complaint, as in the following passage

taken from an article in _Our Animal Friends_ (New York):--

“It is indeed high time that the conditions of animals in menageries

and zoological establishments should be made a subject of very

practical concern. In many cases their condition is pitiable. Few

things are more distressing to observe than the restive motions of

the larger cats, such as lions, tigers, and leopards, or of smaller

animals like wolves and foxes, pacing back and forth in their small

dens, as if suffering an agony of restlessness, as indeed they often

must be. No animal ought to be kept in any such condition, and the

time may come--we think it has already come--when this form of

cruelty may be abolished by the strong hand of law, where it cannot

be terminated by the milder methods of persuasion.”

V

SCIENTIST AND SACERDOTALIST[54]

What do our up-to-date scientists think (if they think at all) of the

justification of vivisection put forward by Monsignor John S. Vaughan,

a sacerdotalist of the medieval school? To a watchful observer few

things could have been more entertaining than the spectacle of an

old-world Catholic, a belated casuist of (say) thirteenth century

temperament, coming forward in the _Saturday Review_ (new style) to

justify, from a moral standpoint, the doings of the modern vivisector,

and basing his argument on the immemorial “proposition” that “beasts

exist for the use and benefit of man.”

Now, there are undoubtedly numbers of persons living in this twentieth

century who still hold the belief that the animals were created for

man’s pleasure, and it may be that, in appealing to that ancient

superstition, Mgr. Vaughan was using the most popular weapon in the

pro-vivisectionist armoury. But whatever the “man in the street”

may think on this subject, the evolutionist and man of science, at

any rate, is _not_ able to take refuge in the plea that man is the

centre of the universe, and that all other beings were created for

mankind; for if there is one thing above others that Darwin’s followers

have scouted, it is this old anthropocentric notion which forms the

Monsignor’s “proposition.” The animals, according to the scientific

view, were not designed for man’s benefit, nor is there any impassable

gulf between human and non-human--on the contrary, man was evolved from

among the animals, and is in very truth an animal himself. This is the

creed, beyond denial or evasion, of the Darwinian scientists, whose

torture of their rudimentary brethren the sacerdotalist is so eager to

condone. Monsignor Vaughan is defending vivisection by an assumption

which the vivisectors themselves must hold to be unscientific and

obsolete. The sufficient answer to the anthropocentric fallacy of the

theologian is found in Mr. Howard Moore’s laconic remark: “But Darwin

has lived.”

But vivisection has got to be defended somehow, on moral, as well as

medical, grounds; and to do Monsignor Vaughan justice the ground he

alleges is the only one that can afford, or could once have afforded,

any semblance of logical foot-hold. “Beasts exist for the use and

benefit of man.” In that unquestioned belief lay the justification--the

supposed justification--of the horrible tortures inflicted on animals

in the medicinal and magical quackery of the middle ages, when, as

Dr. Berdoe has pointed out, “the nastier the medicament the more was

expected of it.” Animals were regarded alike by the religion, and

the science, and the common usage of the times, as mere _things_,

providentially designed to be the instruments of man’s welfare, at the

cost of whatever suffering to themselves. What, therefore, if they were

carved, and tortured, and vivisected to provide mankind with the filthy

nostrums prescribed as the remedies for disease? An anthropocentric

philosophy could explain and justify it all. And so it might do at the

present time, but for the fact that the anthropocentric philosophy--as

a philosophy--has itself ceased to exist.

Indeed, the point of the complaint against the scientists is

precisely this--that the practice of vivisection, though perhaps

logically justifiable on the absurd old belief that animals have

no _raison d’être_ except to minister to man’s convenience, is

wholly unjustifiable in the light of evolutionary science, which has

demonstrated beyond question the kinship of all sentient life. That the

scientist, in order to rake together a moral defence for his doings,

should condescend to take shelter even under the medieval reasoning

of the sacerdotalist, is a proof that his position is hopelessly

inconsistent and unsound; for having got rid of the old anthropocentric

fallacy in the realm of science, he actually avails himself of the same

fallacy in the realm of ethics. This, of course, is less surprising

when we remember that one and the same person may be, and often is,

as reactionary in one department of thought as he is progressive in

another, and that the modern man of science is not infrequently a

medievalist in morals. The present writer well remembers the incident

which first shook his faith in the infallibility of “science.” He had

adopted a vegetarian diet, and a distinguished scientist with whom he

happened to be on friendly terms expressed a wish to “speak to him” on

the subject. The writer felt that a critical moment had arrived, and

awaited the scientific pronouncement with respectful anxiety. When it

came--spoken with evident earnestness--it was this: “Don’t you think

the animals were _sent_ us as food?”

So we see the scientist and the sacerdotalist, forgetting their

radical differences, patching up a superficial alliance with the

pious object of perpetuating the experimental torture of the

laboratory. Henceforward let none say that Darwinian and Catholic are

not in agreement. _Laborare est orare_ was the old saying; and now

surely it should be expanded by Monsignor Vaughan and his Catholic

fellow-vivisectionists into _laboratorium est oratorium_--the house

of torture is the house of prayer. If it is not exactly “mercy and

truth” that are met together, “righteousness and peace” that have

kissed each other, still it is a beautiful and touching scene of

reconciliation--this meeting of scientist and sacerdotalist over the

torture-trough of the helpless animal. They might exclaim in the words

of Tennyson:--

“There above the little grave,

O there above the little grave,

We kissed again with tears.”

It seems to us as humanitarians, that, as far as Monsignor Vaughan and

the Catholic vivisectionist school is concerned (it is otherwise with

the scientists), it is pure waste of time to argue with them, there

being a fundamental difference of opinion as to data and principles.

The sole reason for discussion is to insure that the humanitarian

view of the question be rightly placed before the public, and this

can best be done by stating it clearly in contradistinction to the

anthropocentric dogma. We do _not_ admit the assumption that “beasts

exist for the use and benefit of man.” We view the matter in a wholly

different aspect. We find ourselves born into an age which has been

evolved in a gradual progress from savagery to civilization, with

old-world wrongs around us, the worst of which are being slowly

redeemed, century after century, by a growing spirit of brotherhood.

We have never pretended that these wrongs, woven as they are into the

fabric of Society, can be immediately and simultaneously righted, nor

do we admit, in the case of the lower animals any more than in the

case of men, that the necessity of inflicting _some_ pain confers the

right to inflict _any_ pain. We insist on the undeniable tendency from

barbarism to humaneness, which has already at many points bridged the

gulf between man and man, and will also bridge the gulf between man and

his lower fellow-creatures. Science has exploded the idea that there

is any difference in kind, and not in degree only, between the human

and the non-human animal; and sympathy, guided by reason, is making it

more and more impossible that we should for ever treat as mere automata

fellow-beings to whom we are, in fact, very closely akin.

_Humane Review_, 1901.

VI

THE CONFESSIONS OF A PHYSICIAN[55]

“Confessions of a Physician,” by V. Veresaeff, is a Russian work,

first published in 1901, the writer of which exposes with the

utmost frankness the secrets of the medical profession--the doubts,

difficulties, dangers, scruples, failures, and even homicides, that

fall to the lot of the practitioner. It is not that Veresaeff is

disloyal to his colleagues; but his judgment is drawn in two opposite

directions by his sense of duty to Science on the one side, and to

Morality on the other, and is exercised by the problem of how to

reconcile the “necessities,” as he conceives them, of medical research

with the “rights,” as he cannot but admit them to be, of its human and

non-human victims. Hence, though Veresaeff is himself only in part

a humanitarian, his book has considerable interest for humanitarian

readers.

In a dissertation on the English anti-vivisection movement, from which

the Russian movement originated, Veresaeff, while not stifling his

misgivings, falls back on the assertion that vivisection is necessary,

because it is impossible without it to know the living organism. He is

very contemptuous of the “clergymen, society ladies, statesmen, persons

entirely unassociated with science,” who seek to refute the scientists;

but then, veering to the moral side of the question, he makes the

following reference to this book on “Animals’ Rights”:

“However, we must give them their due; for not all the

anti-vivisectionists base their opinions upon such crude and

ignorant tenets. A number of them seek to base the whole question

upon foundations of pure principle; thus, for instance, the author

of ‘Animals’ Rights, Considered in relation to Social Progress,’

says: ‘Let us assume that the progress of surgical science is

assisted by the experiments of the vivisector. What then? Before

rushing to the conclusion that vivisection is justifiable on that

account, a wise man will take into full consideration the other--the

moral side of the question--the hideous injustice of torturing an

innocent animal.’ This is the only possible and fitting position for

the anti-vivisectionist to take up; whether science can dispense

with vivisection or not, does not concern him; animals are made to

suffer, and that settles everything. The question is plainly put,

and there can be no room for any equivocation. I repeat, we ought

not to ridicule the pretensions of the anti-vivisectionists--the

sufferings of animals are truly horrible--and sympathy with them is

not sentimentality; but we must bear in mind that there is no ‘way

round,’ where the building up of scientific medicine--its goal--the

healing of mankind--is at stake.”[56]

While welcoming this statement, I must point out that in the passage

of “Animals’ Rights” (p. 71) to which Dr. Veresaeff refers, I did not

for a moment _admit_ that vivisection is necessary to surgical science;

I merely _assumed_ it for purposes of argument, and I added the

important qualifying words which are omitted in the Russian quotation:

“A large assumption certainly, controverted as it is by some most

weighty medical testimony.” It is necessary to point this out, because

we humanitarians do not share Dr. Veresaeff’s perplexity, swayed as

he is between the demands of a vivisecting science and the protests

of a suffering humanity; on the contrary, we are convinced that the

painful contradiction between conflicting duties, by which his mind

is troubled, is a phantom of his own creation. No doubt if he assumes

that one particular science, that of medicine, must pursue its course

regardless of any other science, such as that of morals, he will find

himself confronted by problems and contradictions innumerable, to which

no direct answer can be given; but that very assumption is one which

no clear-headed thinker will grant. No single science can make true

progress at the expense of another science; and when such conflicts

arise they are a sign that there is something wrong, and that it is

time to pause and to reflect. Medical problems, like all others, can

only be solved in the solution of the social question as a whole, and

there is no royal road to the achievement of medical aspirations.

VII

ANTIPATHY OR SYMPATHY?[57]

It is to be regretted that so distinguished a writer as Mr. G. K.

Chesterton should have given countenance to the idea that an assertion

of the rights of animals implies a denial of the rights of man. “I use

the word humanitarian,” he says (in his book “Orthodoxy,”) “in the

ordinary sense, as meaning one who upholds the claims of all creatures

against those of humanity.” This strange blunder of supposing that

we humanitarians regard the interests of humans and sub-humans as

antagonistic to each other seems to arise from a misunderstanding

of our statement that, in the spread of humane feelings, there is a

_gradual_, not immediate, recognition of kinship, embracing first the

family, then the fellow citizen, then the slave, and then the non-human

race--a progressive sense of morality which is thus ridiculed by Mr.

Chesterton:

“I think it wrong to sit on a man. Soon, I shall think it wrong to

sit on a horse. Eventually (I suppose,) I shall think it wrong to

sit on a chair. That is the drive of the argument.... A perpetual

tendency, to touch fewer and fewer things might, one feels, be a mere

brute unconscious tendency, like that of a species to produce fewer

and fewer children.”

Mr. Chesterton, it will be seen, supposes that the trend of humanitarian

thought is merely “to touch fewer and fewer things”--to “touch,” that

is, with the whip, the hob-nailed boot, the hunting-knife, the scalpel,

or the pole-axe. He wholly fails to see that what we really desire is

to “touch” not fewer and fewer things, but more and more--_i.e._, to

get into touch with them by virtue of that sympathetic intelligence

which shows us that they are akin to ourselves. Why, ultimately, do we

object to such practices as vivisection, blood-sport, and the butchery

of animals for food? Because of the cruelty involved in them, no doubt;

but also, and even more, because of the hideous narrowing of our own

human sympathies and human pleasures which these savage customs involve.

Let Mr. Chesterton imagine the existence of an ogreish race of men so

powerful that wherever one of them appeared, all ordinary mortals would

be fain to run at full speed into holes and corners to escape him.

Would these tyrants find it to be a diminution, and not rather a vast

increase, of their enjoyment, if they learnt gradually “to touch fewer

and fewer things” in the ogreish sense, while they touched more and

more in the sense of brotherhood and friendship? Precisely the same in

kind, though not, of course, in degree, is the relation, as apprehended

by humanitarians, of man towards the lower animals.

Equally erroneous is Mr. Chesterton’s assumption that mankind is, in

some special and exclusive sense, a “society,” different in kind, and

not in degree only, from the lower races.

“Mankind is not a tribe of animals to which we owe compassion.

Mankind is a club to which we owe our subscription. Pity, the vague

sentiment of the _sunt lacrymæ rerum_, is due indisputably to

everything that lives. And as regards this, the difference between

our pity for suffering men and our pity for suffering animals is very

possibly only a question of degree. But the difference between our

moral relation to men and to animals is not a difference of degree in

the least. It is a difference of kind. What we owe to a human being

we owe to a fellow-member of a fixed, responsible, and reciprocal

society.... This is the basic error upon which all Mr. Salt’s school

goes wrong. They will not see that when we talk of human superiority

we do not mean superiority in a degree on an inclined plane; we

mean the existence of a certain definite society, different from

everything else, and founded not on the sorrows of all living, but

on the rights of men. Cruelty to man and cruelty to animals are two

quite detestable, but quite different, sins.... The man who breaks

a cat’s back breaks a cat’s back. The man who breaks a man’s back

breaks an implied treaty. The tyrant to animals is a tyrant. The

tyrant to men is a traitor. Nay, he is a rebel, for man is royal.”[58]

Mankind, says Mr. Chesterton, is a society. But so are bees and

beavers. There are innumerable societies, and it is impossible to prove

that human society is more organic or more conclusive than the rest.

Our sense of kinship is continually widening, and there never has been,

nor is, any finality in the social bond of which Mr. Chesterton speaks.

It would have surprised the Greek or Roman of old to be informed that

he was a member of the same society with the barbarian or the slave.

It would hardly be admitted by the white American of to-day that he

and the African negro are own brethren. That, presumably, is because

their sympathies are not yet developed enough to enable them to see

even the fact of human kinship; but what if Mr. Chesterton’s sympathies

are not developed enough to enable _him_ to see what many less subtle

intellects have already seen--that beyond this “human” society there is

the still larger society of the higher sentient existence.

“The man who breaks a cat’s back breaks a cat’s back.” This terse

saying contains the root of all cruelty to animals, the quintessence

of all the anthropocentric bigotry which has caused the immemorial

ill-usage of the non-human races through the length and breadth of the

world. “The man who breaks a cat’s back breaks a cat’s back.” Yes, and

the scientist who vivisects a dog, vivisects a dog; the sportsman who

breaks up a hare breaks up a hare; the butcher who bleeds a calf bleeds

a calf. That is all. And if one points out the cruelty, injustice, and

folly of vivisection, or sport, or flesh-eating, appeal is instantly

made to the vaunted fact that man is “royal” and the human race “a

society”!

VIII

THE ANIMAL QUESTION AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION[59]

It is, perhaps, not sufficiently recognized by zoophilists how

largely the ill-usage of the lower animals is due to the iniquity of

present social conditions, and how vain it is to expect to remedy the

consequences without attacking the cause. So long as pecuniary profit

and self-interest are accepted as the guiding principles of trade, it

will remain impossible to secure a right treatment for animals; because

it is absurd to suppose that mankind will agree to exempt the lower

races from the results of an economic tyranny of which men also are the

victims. If the worship of the great god “Profit” bears so hardly on

men and women, is it likely that the result of this pitiless struggle

will be less disastrous to the animals, who by most people are not

regarded as fellow-beings at all?

Let us take a few instances. The over-working of horses is one of the

commonest and worst forms of ill-treatment to which domestic animals

are liable, and is justly punishable by law when “cruelty”--that

somewhat vague offence--can be proved. But such proof, except in

flagrant cases, is rendered practically impossible by the fact that,

for the sake of employers’ profits, men and women are daily over-worked

quite as cruelly as horses are. If tramway companies are permitted

to work their men long and shameful hours to swell the shareholders’

dividends, what can be done for the horses? And where there is actual

ill-usage of horses by those who have charge of them, it must be

remembered that the men’s ill-temper is often the result of the harsh

conditions under which they work. Selfishness begets its like, and the

sufferers by a harsh system will in turn treat other sufferers harshly.

Again, why is it that so many persons are engaged in trades that

involve cruelty to animals? Obviously because the present conditions of

society leave them no choice. One man must be a slaughterman, another

a cattle drover, another a bird-catcher, because no other occupation

happens to be open to him, and he naturally chooses to ill-treat

animals rather than to starve himself. Economic necessity leaves no

scope for humaneness. Before we fairly condemn the brutal drover, or

sealer, or bird-catcher, we must so reconstitute society as to ensure

to each citizen a decent and humane livelihood. It is idle to preach

humanity to those who themselves live in ever-present fear of the

hunger-wolf.

In like manner “sport,” in its baser forms, is maintained and

perpetuated by bad social conditions. It was the “hangers on” of the

Royal Buckhounds who made it so difficult to abolish that disreputable

institution; tame stags must still be worried that local “trade”

may be encouraged; and that rich idlers may come into the hunting

districts to spend their wealth. So, too, the blackguardly pastimes

of rabbit-coursing and pigeon-shooting are mainly supported by the

betting and gambling element, which thrives in proportion as honest

work is underpaid. Nor is it to be wondered that many individuals

of all classes should become gamblers and rogues, when the principle

of commercial enterprise is what it is--an utterly immoral desire to

make money by the quickest possible method, and without the slightest

consideration for any interests but one’s own.

In this breakneck competition everything must be done at high pressure,

or the margin of “profit” will be lost. It is horrible, is it not,

that the slaughterman should sometimes skin the sheep alive? But time

is money; and the slaughterman may himself be the victim of some

skinflint employer, and perhaps he is anxious to rise to eminence in

his profession and give his children a real Christian bringing up.

Thus, too, the master-butchers have opposed the abolition of private

slaughter-houses because their “profits” would be lessened. It costs

more to have the best and most modern appliances--so humanity once more

has had to wait.

The moral is that zoophilists, while in no wise relaxing their efforts

for the welfare of the animals, should also range themselves on the

side of social reform. And this suggests the remark that the sub-title

of this book is not devoid of significance, for it is when they are

“considered in relation to social progress” that the rights of animals

are most likely to be understood.

BIBLIOGRAPHY[60]

“Free Thoughts upon the Brute Creation.” By John Hildrop, M.A. London,

1742. This examination of Father Bougeant’s “Philosophical Amusement

upon the Language of Beasts” (1740) is an argument in favour of animal

immortality.

“A Reasonable Plea for the Animal Creation.” By Robert Morris. London,

1746. A reprint of some letters urging that “we have no right to

destroy, much less to eat of any thing which has life.”

“An Essay on the Future Life of Brutes.” By Richard Dean. Manchester,

1767. The probability of a future life for animals is asserted on

scriptural and other grounds.

“An Apology for the Brute Creation, or Abuse of Animals Censured.”

By James Granger. London, 1772. A short sermon condemning cruelty to

animals in sport, etc.

“A Dissertation on the Duty of Mercy and Sin of Cruelty to Brute

Animals.” By Humphry Primatt, D.D. London, 1776. A quaint but excellent

book, urging, as a rule of conduct, “to do unto others as, in their

condition, you would be done unto.”

“Disquisitions on Several Subjects.” By Soame Jenyns. London, 1782.

Chapter II treats of “Cruelty to Inferior Animals.”

“Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation.” By Jeremy

Bentham. London, 1780. Bentham’s works contain several passages

asserting the rights of animals. His views, ridiculed by Dr. Whewell,

were supported by J. S. Mill, “Dissertations and Discussions,” ii, pp.

482-485.

“The Cry of Nature, or An Appeal to Mercy and Justice on behalf of the

Persecuted Animals.” By John Oswald. London, 1791. Written to advocate

the discontinuance of flesh-eating.

“A Vindication of the Rights of Brutes.” London, 1792. Attributed to

Thomas Taylor. (See above, p. 4.)

“A Philosophical Treatise on Horses, and on the Moral Duties of Man

towards the Brute Creation.” By John Lawrence. Two vols. London,

1796-1798. The author of this humane book was a farmer, an authority

on the management of domestic animals, who was consulted by Richard

Martin, M.P., on the details of his Ill-treatment of Cattle Bill, which

became law in 1822.

“On the Conduct of Man to Inferior Animals.” By George Nicholson.

Manchester, 1797. A compilation of passages illustrating man’s cruelty

to the lower races.

“An Essay on Humanity to Animals.” By Thomas Young, Fellow of Trinity

College, Cambridge. London, 1798. The book contains chapters on sport,

cruelties connected with the table, etc.

“The Hare, or Hunting Incompatible with Humanity.” Dublin, 1800. A

story, by an anonymous writer, purporting to be told by a Hare.

“Zoophilos.” By Henry Crowe. Buckingham, 1819. Contains chapters on

sport, methods of slaughter for food, vivisection, etc.

“Moral Inquiries on the Situation of Man and of Brutes.” By Lewis

Gompery. London, 1824. The author of this book was secretary of the

Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, and founder of an

Animals’ Friend Society. A later volume, “Fragments in Defence of

Animals,” was published by him in 1852.

“The Rights of Animals, and Man’s Obligation to treat them with

Humanity.” By William H. Drummond, D.D. London, 1838. A guarded essay,

in which the writer pleads for the restriction of vivisection, but

justifies flesh-eating and field-sports.

“Philozoia, or Moral Reflections on the Actual Condition of the Animal

Kingdom, and the means of improving the same.” By T. Forster. Brussels,

1839. A plea for humane education. A section of the book is devoted to

the condition of animals on the Continent.

“The Obligation and Extent of Humanity to Brutes, principally

considered with reference to the Domesticated Animals.” By W. Youatt.

London, 1839. The writer, a Professor in the Royal Veterinary College,

was a member of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.

“The Morality of Field Sports.” By Professor E. A. Freeman,

“Fortnightly Review,” October, 1869. This article, together with

a reply by Anthony Trollope and a rejoinder by Prof. Freeman, was

reprinted (1900), under the title of “The Morality of Hunting,” by Mr.

R. K. Gaye, of Trinity College, Cambridge.

“Some Talk about Animals and their Masters.” By Sir Arthur Helps.

London, 1873. This popular little book contains many good remarks, but

does not advance any consistent view of the question.

“The Rights of an Animal, a New Essay in Ethics.” By Edward Byron

Nicholson. London, 1879. This book, with much interesting information,

includes a reprint of a chapter by John Lawrence on “The Rights of

Beasts.”

“The Ethics of Diet, a Catena of Authorities Deprecatory of the Habit

of Flesh-Eating.” By Howard Williams. London and Manchester, 1883.

Though written primarily from a vegetarian standpoint, this scholarly

work contains a large amount of general information invaluable to

students of the animal question.

“Animals’ Rights, considered in relation to Social Progress.” By Henry

S. Salt. London, 1892.

“Moral Philosophy.” By Joseph Rickaby, S.J. London, 1892. Contains a

statement of the Catholic position in denial of rights to animals.

“Natural Rights.” By David G. Ritchie. London, 1895. See above,

Appendix I.

“The New Charter, a discussion of the Rights of Men and the Rights of

Animals.” Essays published by the Humanitarian League. London, 1896.

“Evolutional Ethics and Animal Psychology.” By E. P. Evans. London,

1898.

“The Nature and Development of Animal Intelligence.” By Wesley Mills,

M.D. London, 1898.

“Kith and Kin: Poems of Animal Life.” Edited by Henry S. Salt. London,

1901.

“Every Living Creature.” By Ralph Waldo Trine. London, 1901.

“The Basis of Morality.” By Arthur Schopenhauer. Translated by A. B.

Bullock. London, 1903.

“The Universal Kinship.” By J. Howard Moore. London, 1906.

This brilliantly written work asserts the scientific basis of

humanitarianism, and treats of the subject of animals’ rights under

three heads--the physical, the psychical, and the ethical kinship

between human and sub-human.

“The New Ethics.” By J. Howard Moore. London, 1907.

“The Church and Kindness to Animals.” London, 1907. A translation

from the French, “L’Église et la Pitié envers les Animaux” (1903), in

vindication of the Catholic Church against the charge of indifference

to animal suffering.

“The Place of Animals in Human Thought.” By the Countess Martinengo

Cesaresco. London, 1909. A work of value to those who are studying the

psychological aspect of the question.

“The Mahatma and the Hare.” By H. Rider Haggard. London, 1911.

“Killing for Sport.” By various writers, edited by Henry S. Salt, with

Introduction by G. Bernard Shaw. London, 1915.

The Publications of the Humanitarian League--Pamphlets on various

subjects, 1891-1919.

“Suffering and Wrong. The Message of the New Religion.” By Francis

Wood. London, 1916.

“Savage Survivals.” By J. Howard Moore. London, 1916.

“The Great Kinship.” An Anthology of Humanitarian Poetry, edited by

Bertram Lloyd. London, 1921.

“The Soul of an Animal.” By T. S. Hawkins. London, 1921.

INDEX.

Aberdare, Lord, on Vivisection, 73 (note 41).

Aristotle, quoted, 17.

Arnold, Dr., quoted, 15.

Bentham, Jeremy, on rights, 5, 14, 17, 42.

“Better for the animals themselves,” 24, 25, 37, 46, 52, 72,

73 (note 41).

Bright, John, quoted, 86.

Büchner, quoted, 83.

Caged animals, 36-39.

Caging of birds, 39.

Cartesian doctrine, 10, 11.

Castration of animals, 30, 31.

Cattle traffic, 42, 45.

Chesterfield, Lord, quoted, 43.

Church, the, and rights of animals, 3.

Cobbe, Frances Power, 8, 70, 71.

Comte, Auguste, 24 (note 17).

Cruelty to animals, causes of, 8-10, 16;

responsibility for, 59;

forms of, 75, 78.

Darwin, quoted, 12.

Democracy and rights of animals, 4, 23, 24, 85, 86.

Dixie, Lady F., quoted, 57.

“Domestic” animals, protected by law, 26.

“Dumb” animals, an objectionable term, 14, 15.

Education, as a method of reform, 86-89.

Erskine, Lord, quoted, 90.

Evans, E. P., quoted, 12-14.

Feather trade, 63, 64.

Flesh-eating, 42-47.

Food question, importance of, 41.

Fur trade, 59-63.

Gompertz, Lewis, quoted, 25 (note 19).

Helps, Sir A., 27.

Huxley, 10 (note 11).

Immortality of animals, 9, 10, 12.

Jenyns, Soame, quoted, 36, 52.

Kropotkine, P., 20 (note 16).

Law for preventing cruelty to animals, need of amendment, 55-57.

Lawrence, John, quoted, 5, 6, 26, 27, 42.

Lecky’s “History of European Morals,” 9, 15, 16.

Legislation, as a method of reform, 89-91.

Machinery, use of, 29.

“Martin’s Act,” 6, 34, 56, 90.

Michelet, quoted, 44, 53, 54, 69.

Mill, J. S., quoted, 91.

Mills, Dr. Wesley, 12, 13.

Montaigne, 27.

More, Sir T., on sport, 54.

Natural history, true method and false, 67-69.

Nature, and struggle for existence, 19, 20, 47, 80, 81.

Necessity, plea of, 72, 79.

Nicholson, E. B., quoted, 37, 46.

Nomenclature, influence of, 14, 15.

Pain, the “discipline” of, 19.

Paine, Thomas, 4.

Paley, Dr. W., quoted, 43.

Performing Animals, 40.

“Pets,” 32.

Pheasant-shooting, 57.

Plutarch, 28.

Porphyry, 3, 21.

“Preservation” of animals, by sportsmen, 51, 52;

by collectors, 68.

Primatt, Dr. H., 9, 19, 26, 77, 78.

Property, influence on legislation, 34, 35.

Rabbit-coursing, 56.

Reason and instinct, 12, 13.

Rights, definition, 1, 2;

need of a clear principle, 7, 78, 79.

Ritchie, D. G., 2, 3, 7.

Romanes, Professor, 10.

Rousseau, 3, 88.

Scientists and the rights of animals, 67-70.

Schopenhauer, quoted, 11, 14, 42.

Seal Fishery, 63.

Slavery, 16, 17.

Spencer, Herbert, on rights, 2.

Sport, as related to other cruelties, 50, 51, 65, 66, 74;

excuses for, 53;

zest of, 54, 55.

Stag-hunting, 55.

Strauss, quoted, 83.

Thomson, J. Arthur, quoted, 20 (note 16).

Thoreau, 27, 29, 49, 68.

Vegetarianism, 44, 48, 49.

“Vermin,” treatment of, 56, 57.

Vivisection, its iniquity, 69, 70 (note 39);

relation to other cruelties, 67, 70, 74;

morality of, 71, 73;

right method of combating, 75, 76.

Voltaire, 3, 10.

Wild animals, unprotected by law, 26, 34-36;

sanctuaries for, 40, 55.

Wood, Rev. J. G., quoted, 12.

Wordsworth, quoted, 51.

Zoological Gardens, 38.

CHISWICK PRESS: CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO. TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE,

LONDON.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] An admirable definition of Rights is given by Mr. G. W. Foote

in his contribution to “The New Charter”: “Rights are of three

sorts--legal, moral, and natural. The legal meaning of ‘Rights’ is

undoubtedly the primary one ... and this is the only _definite_ sense,

in which the word can be used.... Moral Rights are widespread new

sentiments, demanding incorporation into Legal Rights; and Natural

Rights are still newer sentiments, aspiring to recognition as Moral

Rights, with a view to ultimate incorporation as Legal Rights....

They are respectively, a solid fact, a general demand, and a growing

aspiration.”

[2] This remark implies not the “disparagement of logic and of all

careful use of language,” with which Professor D. G. Ritchie has

charged me in his book on “Natural Rights,” but simply that social

reformers cannot be debarred from using the best available terms

because no logically exact term is forthcoming. See Appendix I.

[3] Attributed to Thomas Taylor, the Platonist.

[4] “Principles of Penal Law,” chap, xvi., 1780.

[5] John Lawrence, “Philosophical Treatise on the Moral Duties of Man

towards the Brute Creation,” 1796.

[6] Professor Ritchie contends in his “Natural Rights” that domestic

animals have _not_ been granted rights in English law. “Because a work

of art, or some ancient monument, is protected by law from injury, do

we speak of the _rights_ of pictures or stones?” But the distinction

is obvious--works of art are protected only as _property_, domestic

animals as _sentient beings_, whether owned or unowned.

[7] “Fraser,” November, 1863; “The Rights of Man and the Claims of

Brutes,” by Frances Power Cobbe.

[8] “Book of Thoughts, Memories, and Fancies,” 1854.

[9] Humphry Primatt, D.D., author of “The Duty of Mercy to Brute

Animals” (1776).

[10] See the article on “Animal Immortality,” “The Nineteenth Century,”

Jan., 1891, by Norman Pearson. The upshot of his argument is that, “if

we accept the immortality of the human soul, and _also_ accept its

evolutional origin, we cannot deny the survival, in some form or other,

of animal minds.”

[11] Prof. Huxley’s remarks, in “Science and Culture,” give a partial

support to Descartes’ theory, but do not bear on the moral question of

rights. For, though he concludes that animals are probably “sensitive

automata,” he classes men in the same category. See Appendix II.

[12] Schopenhauer’s “Foundation of Morality.” I quote the passage as

translated in Mr. Howard Williams’s “Ethics of Diet.”

[13] “Descent of Man,” chap. iii.

[14] “Man and Beast, here and hereafter,” 1874.

[15] In Sir A. Helps’s “Animals and their Masters.” See an article on

“Dumb Animals,” in “The Humanitarian,” November, 1912. Also the chapter

on “Speech as a Barrier between Man and Beast,” in Mr. E. P. Evans’s

work on “Evolutional Ethics and Animal Psychology,” 1898.

[16] See Prince Kropotkine’s articles on “Mutual Aid among Animals,”

“Nineteenth Century,” 1890, where the conclusion is arrived at that

“sociability is as much a law of nature as mutual struggle.” A similar

view is expressed in the “Study of Animal Life,” 1892, by J. Arthur

Thomson. “What we must protest against,” he says, in an interesting

chapter on “The Struggle of Life,” “is that one-sided interpretation

according to which individualistic competition is nature’s sole method

of progress.”

Another and more recent work, which has a very important bearing

on this question, is “Symbiosis: a Socio-Physiological Study of

Evolution,” by H. Reinheimer, 1920.

[17] Auguste Comte included the domestic animals as an organic part of

the Positivist conception of humanity.

[18] “Moral Duty towards Animals,” “Macmillan’s Magazine,” April, 1882,

by the then Bishop of Carlisle.

[19] See Lewis Gompertz’ “Moral Inquiries” (1824), where it is argued

that “at least in the present state of society it is unjust, and

considering the unnecessary abuse they suffer from being in the power

of man, it is wrong to use them, and to encourage their being placed in

his power.”

[20] “Animals and their Masters,” p. 101.

[21] See Appendix III.

[22] Under the Animals (Anaesthetics) Act, 1919, an anæsthetic is now

required in certain cases, but the scope of the Act needs to be greatly

enlarged.

[23] The use of dogs for purposes of draught was prohibited in London

in 1839, and in 1854 this enactment was extended to the whole kingdom.

[24] “On Cruelty to the Inferior Animals,” by Soame Jenyns, 1782.

[25] Mr. E. B. Nicholson. See Appendix IV.

[26] Unfortunately they are not of much value even for _that_ purpose,

owing to the deterioration of health and vigour caused by their

imprisonment. “The skeletons of aged carnivora,” says Dr. W. B.

Carpenter, “are often good for nothing as museum specimens, their bones

being rickety and distorted.”

[27] “La Bible de l’Humanité.”

[28] See the Humanitarian League pamphlets on “Cattle-ships,” and “The

Reform of the Slaughter-house.”

[29] “The Rights of an Animal,” 1879.

[30] Edward Carpenter, “England’s Ideal.”

[31] As in the article by Sir Herbert Maxwell on “Our Obligations to

Wild Animals,” “Blackwood’s Magazine,” August, 1899.

[32] Soame Jenyns, 1782.

[33] See the chapter on Fallacies of Sportsmen in the volume of essays

entitled “Killing for Sport” (George Bell and Sons, 1915). Several of

the sophisms by which fox-hunting is commonly defended were employed

by Dr. Lang, Archbishop of York, in an address which he gave (November

16, 1913) when dedicating a stained window to the memory of a deceased

blood-sportsman.

[34] “The Horrors of Sport,” Humanitarian League pamphlet, by Lady

Florence Dixie.

[35] “It is extremely difficult to see why these tame deer of park and

paddock should not be held to be domestic animals within the meaning of

the Acts for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. Indeed, if they have

ceased to be _feræ naturæ_ they must be domestic animals, unless there

be some miserable _tertium quid_ which is neither one nor the other. I

am not aware that there ever has been a definite decision of the High

Court upon this matter, and I venture to think that if a suitable case

were to be taken up and properly argued, it is possible that a judgment

welcome to humanitarians might be obtained.”--_Sir George Greenwood_

(“Humane Review,” January, 1908).

[36] Letter to “Pall Mall Gazette,” March 24th, 1892, by Lady Florence

Dixie.

[37] Since this was written, more than thirty years ago, there has been

a welcome growth of public feeling, resulting in a better control of

the plumage trade.

[38] See Appendix V.

[39] We are told that in this country such barbarities are no longer

possible, because, by the Act of 1876, vivisections may be performed

by none but licensed persons, and the use of anaesthetics is made

obligatory. It has to be remembered, however, that special licences

can be obtained to dispense with anaesthetics, or, if an anæsthetic be

administered, to allow the vivisector to keep the animal alive after

the effect of the anæsthetic has passed away, in order to watch the

results of the experiment, during which period the animal frequently

has to endure great suffering.

[40] On the reference to this passage in “The Confessions of a

Physician,” by V. Veresaeff, see Appendix VI.

[41] It is said that the first Lord Aberdare, in presiding over a

meeting of the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals,

and in warning the society against entering on an anti-vivisection

crusade, gave utterance to the delightfully irrelevant remark that he

had himself been thrice operated on, and was all the better for it!

[42] See J. Cotter Morrison’s article on “Scientific _versus_ Bucolic

Vivisection,” “Fortnightly Review,” 1885.

[43] Professor Jevons, “Fortnightly Review,” 1876.

[44] “Mind in Animals,” translated by Annie Besant.

[45] “The Old Faith and the New.”

[46] See Appendix VII.

[47] See Appendix VIII.

[48] “They tell children, perhaps, that they must not be cruel to

animals.... What avails all the fine talk about morality, in contrast

with acts of barbarism and immorality presented to them on all

sides?”--Gustav von Struve.

[49] “Principles of Political Economy.”

[50] See p. 3.

[51] See p. 10.

[52] See p. 29.

[53] See p. 37.

[54] See p. 69.

[55] See p. 71.

[56] From the translation by Simeon Linden, London, 1904; pp. 158, 159.

[57] See p. 84.

[58] _Daily News_, April 10, 1906.

[59] See p. 86.

[60] It has not been attempted in the following pages to give a

complete bibliography of the doctrine of Animals’ Rights, but merely

a list of some of the chief works, in English, that touch directly on

that subject.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:

Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.

Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.

Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.

Alternate or archaic spelling has been retained from the original.