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ignore the paragraphs of the code which protect animals against the most dangerous of all-I mean against man. To be good to them, it suffices to see in them, as has been said, our inferior brothers; brothers by their suffering, inferior in that, by an aggravation of their misery, they have not even (as we have) the means of seeking its causes, its nature, and its remedies.

This eloquent speech was loudly applauded.

The delegate sent by the Royal Society P. C. A. of Brussels, said in his speech, that he brought with him the sincere applause of a friendly State, who was with us in the Bullfight struggle, and said to us "en avant."

Then the procession of lauréats, which included nobles and peasants, defiled before the presidential table. Representatives of the Press were honoured for articles friendly to our cause. The proceedings might have become monotonous, but for the comments which the President made, from time to time, on different cases. One lady, the conciérge (or hall-keeper) of the circus, is so prodigal of her affection to dumb animals that she cares for the lions. A drayman picks up grease in the street for his horses' feet. A little old

lady, humpbacked and bent double, is the Providence of stray dogs and cats. Then a boy who is noted for his kindness to animals is followed by a lady-teacher who rears and tames swallows that have fallen from their nests. The President said that here was an opening for their use with carrier pigeons in time of war. Then came a brave man who had saved an ox that had fallen into the Seine. This man had on his breast a medal for having saved life in the recent fire at the Charity Bazaar, a proof, said the President, that those who loved animals loved their fellows also. A omnibus driver who loves his horses as much as his wife was also recompensed. Before the rewards were given to soldiers and firemen the audience of 5,000 persons rose and the band played the "Marseillaise." One soldier had a medal for having the best kept horse of his squadron, and another for having nursed his sick horse night and day, sharing with it his bread. Then came the keepers of the Public gardens and squares who have hindered children from killing the birds with catapults, etc. When all this interesting procession had finished, the proceedings were ended by a musical matinée, for which several noted artists gave their services.

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Dedicated to all Friends of "The Home of Rest

for Horses."

ULD God! some gift of Pentecostal powers

Could bid them speak our tongue, and say their say,
Then from each rolling cab and thundering dray
A wail would rise and shake your London towers,
Crying, "we once ran fetlock-deep in flowers

Now, doomed in maze of barren bricks to stay;
"Night brings no rest to help the weary day,
"Life has no joy, Death's ease alone is ours."

Spavined with curb and splint and sore of heel-
Tongues hanging pained o'er bits of froth and blood,-
With dim dull eyes, heads hanging down, they come
The troop of silent sufferers; like a flood

Man's pity pours to meet them,-hearts that feel
Have bid them welcome to the Horses' Home.
H. D. RAWNSLEY.

The Festival Dinner in aid of the Funds of the Home of Rest for Horses, Friars' Farm, Acton, W., was held at the Hotel Cecil, London, on Tuesday, the 29th of June.

An Old begend. *

NE day, so runs the story, Jesus went
His way, on mercy's ministrations bent,
And chanced to see far off a laughing crowd
Of loiterers holding discourse lewd and loud;
The gentle Saviour stepped aside to see
What might the cause of this commotion be,
And found a poor dog's carcase lying there,
At which a ribald rabble stopped to stare.

It lay all mangled, grimed with dirt and dust,

And each, beholding, signified disgust.

One held his nose, one kicked it as it lay,

And all had some abusive word to say:

"Why should the loathsome beast defile the earth?
"In his whole corpse is not a copper's worth;

"Not e'en a shoe-lace from his mangled hide;
"The surly beast, no doubt, in fighting died.

"See his bleared eyes, torn ears, and bones all bare,
"The putrid hound pollutes the very air!
"A shame that such an eye-sore should be left,
"The prowling cur was doubtless hung for theft."
Then Jesus spake, a single silvery word,

That flashed reproach on every one that heard:

"E'en pearls of purest lustre lose their glow

"Beside those teeth, white as the driven snow!

The crowd shrank back, and whispered, "We have seen
"Jesus of Galilee, the Nazarene ;

"For surely none of all on earth save He,

"In meanest things some hidden good could see!"

REV. J. HUDSON, M.A.

Another poetical version of this beautiful Legend appeared in our pages some months ago.

L

Old Age Pensions.

"As ye would men should do unto you."

AST month we gave a reproduction of an old wood-cut,

"Waiting for Death," and representing a poor, wretched, brokendown horse, unfit for further service, and turned out to starve. We subsequently received the following letter from our valued coadjutor, Mrs. Laurence Pike, of Furzebrook, Wareham, Dorset :

Mr. Pike is very anxious that I should send you the enclosed photographs of his favourite old mare, who, after being in his service for twenty years this last May, is now, at the age of 28, awaiting death in a field; not a violent death, but merely that summons which we all must answer. It may be years yet before she answers the roll call, but there she is, and he thought she would make a nice companion picture to the one lent you by Miss Cobbe for the June issue."

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Oliver Wendell Holmes on the Eternal Verities.

A

LADY correspondent directs our attention

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to a letter (undated), written by Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes to (Mrs.) Harriet Beecher Stowe, concerning his conception of the Infinite, in which there is a side reference to vivisection. The latter is interesting as giving a clue to the distinguished "Autocrat's view of the horrid practice, and valuable because he was a fully qualified medical man. Our space will not permit of our giving the letter in full, but it will be found in Vol. II. of the "Life and Letters of Oliver Wendell Holmes," commencing page 245. We quote a few extracts only:

66

My creed, as I said in my book of ten years ago, is to be found in the first two words of the Pater Noster (Our Father). I know there is a great deal to shake it in the natural order of things, but my faith is strong enough to stand against all the untowardness of the blind elements amidst which we are placed here, and out of which our earthly tabernacles are shaped.

"I see no corner of the Universe which the Father has wholly deserted. The forces of Nature bruise and wound our bodies, but our artery no sooner bleeds than the Divine hand is placed upon it to stay the flow. A wound is no sooner made than the healing process is set on foot. Pain reaches a certain point, and insensibility comes on-for fainting is the natural anodyne of curable griefs, as death is the remedy of those which are intolerable.

"What if I happen to be so human that I love and pity all my race, and cannot be happy if they are to be writhing in agony for ever, and nobody suffered to go near them to help or pity? Can I love the being who has arranged the universe so that they shall come to this?

But I must love my Creator, for he is as kind as my father was, and as tender as my mother was. Otherwise he has made a creature better than himself, according to our human definition of better, which is contrary to all reason, as it seems to me. How absurd to disclaim against the lawless passions of Jupiter, or the jealous rages of Juno, as sufficiently disproving their Divinity, and then call on mankind to believe in a being who has established an almost infinite laboratory, where the vivisections and viviustions of sensitive organisms are to set forth his glory for ever to creatures that were once men and womenmen with tears in their eyes-women with milk in their breasts!

"I grant all that can be fairly said about the suffering we see here on earth. I should not have expected to find so much. But I see compensation in some form trying to restore the balance; I see apparent misery solacing itself in unforeseen ways; I see habit rendering tolerable what seemed too much to be borne; I see sleep with its sweet oblivion, and death with its certain release from the unfit tenement and its at least possible solution of every doubt and cure for every ill. In all this I see nothing like Hell. I see ignorance and

ill-training make men act like demons; to me they are as the insane and the idiots are. Was there ever such a prayer as that one :— Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do!'

No sinner truly knows what he does. We do not come into the world with a bias to vice, except relatively to society. Any bias we bring into the world comes, mediately, it is true, but just as really, from the Creator. A clear intelligence, a just balance of bodily, mental, and moral instincts, a wise training, are a complete human outfit. Withhold any one or more of these conditions, and it shows itself in a man's life, in error, in excess, in sin, in vice. Who withheld it?

"I believe much, I dare not say how much, of what we call sin has no moral character whatever in the sight of the great Judge. I believe much of what we call vice is not only an object of the profoundest compassiɔn to good men and women, but that the tenderest of God's mercies are in store for many whom the so-called justice of the world condemns.

"More and more I feel that God is all in all, that the pride of man has shown itself more fearfully in his over-estimate of his own capacity for sin than in any other way. Do not mistake me for what is popularly meant by an antinomian. For every idle word 'yes, I am ready to adopt that too. God lets me move my limbs-these he would trust me with. But he shut my heart and my breathing organs and all the wondrous mechanism by which I live, in a casket beyond my rash meddling, of which He keeps the key, So I know that he has entrusted me with many precious interests which I can use well or ill; but I will not believe that He has ever trusted the immortal destiny of my soul out of His own hands."

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V.- Playing at Butchery.
VI. Which are the Brutes?
VII. The Otter and his Woes.

, VIII.-Sportsmen or Demons.
and Be Merciful (for children).

Our readers are so familiar with the many excellencies of Miss Carrington's works that they will need no encouragement from us to purchase these handy little papers. They are wonderful value at d. each, 5d. the dozen, or 3s. the hundred, and orders for them should be sent to Miss Woodward, 158, Lancaster Road, London, W.

The Muzzle Torture.

BY PROF. WOODROFFE HILL.

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Walter Long, with his sporting proclivities, and supposed fondness for dogs, could lend himself to such a glaring inconsistency-indeed I will add cruelty, as the enforcement of a wire muzzle, and it would be well to enquire into the R.S.P.C.A.'s quietude in the matter.

There is, as alleged, no sentiment anent muzzling, it is simply the conclusion of common sense and humanity. The only mistake that has occurred in connection with this wretched and uncalled-for order is that the wrong subject has been tortured. The individual or individuals

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is an absolute necessity to a dog, and its denial a great trial if nothing worse. Dogs at large about our public thoroughfares usually have to drink from shallow water, whether out of a drinking pan or otherwise. To lap, the tongue when protruded had to be curled, therefore it will be obvious to any common-sense individual that a dog with a wire muzzle on, especially the pattern adopted or approved by the Board of Agriculture, must be considerably checked, if not absolutely prevented in drinking, as the nose portion or end of such a muzzle touches the bottom of the vessel or ground when the animal attempts to lap and thus prevents the tongue from performing its natural function.

It is inconceivable how a man like Mr.

who have brought it about should wear the cage, not the innocent devoted animals who are now being punished to satisfy the childish whims and fears of men whose years should have brought them sense, if not feeling.

When the London hydrophobia scare was at its height during the period Sir Chas. Warren was in office, when he rigorously enforced the muzzling order, I was deputed to deliver a public lecture on the subject at the Kensington Town Hall. Shortly afterwards, when returning home from Charing Cross, I noticed a fine St. Bernard dog on the station wearing, under great distress, a wire muzzle, which had occasioned severe lacerations to the head and face. I forfeited my train to meet his

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