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The Dog Hell of Paris.

By DR. EDWARD BERDOE.

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ROBABLY no medical institution in affectionate, clever creatures. No doubt

the world is so widely known and they are, but they are too suggestive of discussed as the Pasteur Institute in midnight marauders, food spoilers, and

Paris. It is not, however, a very eroding operations in wainscoting to make easy place for a stranger to discover. It is me desire

cultivate any

intimate nowhere near the fashionable quarters of acquaintance with any members of the the city, and lies far away from the bright family. But I would no more cause them and beautiful centres of attraction for pain than I would injure cats and dogs; pleasure seekers. So I hailed a fiacre, and all the Pasteur rats and mice were and armed only with my visiting card, pre- there to suffer. One of the medical sented myself one August morning recently journals once contained a large engraving at the gate of the famous laboratories in of a rat whose internal organs were a mass the Rue Dútot. I say “ famous," because of cancer experimentally produced ; that the word has a bad as well as a good sense, creature must have suffered agonies but " infamous " would better express my beyond anything we can imagine. So I feelings after I had made my inspection. sighed and said to myself—* Poor rats When the portress took my card in to the and mice, if Science demanded no higher doctors I was a wee bit nervous lest my victims than you, I fear the Animals' Friend name, fairly well known in England as an and the Zoophilist would not find many opponent of vivisection, should exclude helpers in the crusade against vivisection." me, but I was too vain-nobody knew me, The true animal lover should be above and as a medical man I was welcomed to sentiment, but it is potent with most of us. the place as “of course a true disciple.” Next I saw the rabbit room. In this great

A crowd of patients awaited inoculation dark, gloomy chamber were scores of large against hydrophobia. Most of them seemed baskets and cages full of rabbits of all to treat the matter as a joke, and chatted colours and sizes. Most of them were and laughed till the doctors were ready to lying on their sides, evidently suffering in receive them. I found one or two English- one way or another, paralysed in their men amongst the number, and engaged in hind legs, sloughing at the eyes, hideous a conversation with a young doctor from and distressing degradations of the dear India, who told me he had availed himself bunnies of my school-boy days. The of a bite from a “mad” dog on the heel of creatures are bred in the establishment his boot to obtain a long leave of absence or in one of its farms, if I mistake not, and and visit Paris. I assured him that I in this evil-smelling, ill-kept, dirty place would not undergo the rabic virus inocu- they await their doom till a horrible death lations for a visit to all the capitals of from rabies, after a lingering sickness, Europe. He smiled knowingly, and said liberates them. In odd corners here and he didn't think the stuff would do him there were horses, donkeys, goats, and any harm. The process of inoculation other animals, two or three of each, and was demonstrated to me by one of the all for one or other sort of cruel experimedical staff, and I was allowed to stand ment. Some for anthrax, some for by the side of the operator of the day while cholera inoculations were reserved; be he inoculated some sixty patients with the

that

was spared the last dirty-looking fluid of various degrees of extremity of pain or wasting misery of potency which stood in bottles before him. poisoned blood and weakened frame.

After the patients had all been attended to, They kept the worst sight till last, and I was conducted over the great laboratories here I had to exercise great restraint to keep and the menagerie. My concern myself from unprofessional, unparliamenchiefly with the hundreds of poor animals tary, and imprecatory language. The rats of many species crowded in baskets, cages, and mice I mildly pitied, the rabbits I and hutches, and afflicted in various ways inwardly grieved for, but the dogs-oh! by the hands of their cruel tormentors. I that awful cage, like the wolves' den at the confess I neither love nor admire rats, Zoo, or a great car in Wombwell's show, mice, or snakes. White rats and white with a dozen mad dogs all raging, barking mice do not appeal to me any more than wildly, tearing at the iron bars, frantic to the brown variety. I am told they are be free, furious to escape and bite and tear

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even me, whose heart bled for them all made mad experimentally, for mad dogs are not sold in the markets, nor are they carried about the streets. Not common dogs by any means, but aristocrats of their kind; beautiful, high-bred creatures, whose mouths foamed with bloody saliva as they flung themselves at the strong iron bars and appealed to each new comer to set them at liberty. One's first impulse is to shrink back from the dangerous proximity of such wholesale rabies. Next one looks at the bars and mentally gauges their strength, then pity comes, then one's heart burns with indignation against a system which demands and must secure a continual succession of such tortures to keep going the vast machinery of a great Pasteur Institute.

Over and over again I have seen it stated that Pasteur did not use dogs for inoculations, but there they were before me, dogs too costly to buy, dogs whose homes no doubt were in the quarter of the Champs Elysees, and who were more familiar with the Bois de Boulogne than the Montmartre quarter; stolen, no doubt, by men employed for the purpose, as the Chelsea dogs will be captured for the new London Institute when it is licensed, which may God avert ! Now, sentiment must not be allowed to dominate us, but who that has owned and loved a faithful dog, who that has been welcomed home, as I am every night, by a loving creature whose whole body spells

“Salve," "inarticulate, perhaps, but certainly not dumb," as Canon Wilberforce says; who, I say, that is sufficiently a human being to know dog nature and love it, could unmoved see such a sight as the Dog Hell of Paris, or keep his

in due bounds as he turned to leave the place ? The attendant thrusts an iron rod through the bars and drives the creatures back; we leave them hopeless as wrecked sailors who see the treacherous sail fade on the horizon, the sail they fondly hoped was the sign of help.

Last July I was strolling round the chapels of Notre Dame de Paris, and came

one which was crammed with wreaths and crosses in honour of the body of M. Pasteur which rested there. In the great Cathedral of the Mother of the pitying Christ, the incarnation of the Divine Love, they flaunted their memorial wreaths, inscribed offered by the Pasteur Institute and the School of Experimental Medicine. It filled me with disgust. Cruelty and Christ. Pitilessness and the Virgin Mother. A strange union, I thought, as I left the church. What did the clergy think of it all? Or did they feel flattered because science, in the person of Pasteur, had patronised religion ? Very likely they didn't think at all about it. The world has only just begun to concern itself with justice to animals, but their turn is coming!

as

བསུས

66
65 Behola od bring

you Glad Jidings of Great Joy."

WRITTEN FOR CHRISTMAS DAY, 1896.

N

OW has come good news to earth

For the things of lowliest birth,
Cattle feeding in the stall

Join our Christmas festival,
And the sheep upon the plain
Something of our good may gain ;
For the Lord of all will share
Even their worlds of toil and care,
Binding His creation one
In glad bonds of benison.
Henceforth he who names the name

Of Christ, shall cease from shame-
Shame of those who find delight
In a hunted creature's fright-
Shame of those who put, for gain,
Dumb defenceless things to pain-
Shame of those who still forget
Man for friend, not foe, was set,
Lord by right of solemn trust
When God called him out of dust,
And with seal that all was good,
Gave him creature brotherhood.

H. D. RAWNSLEY.

KOULA A RUSSIAN

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7647 By The Countess KAMENSKY. (Dedicated to Lady Walpurga Paget.) HIS young With stupid cruelty man treads under

wolfhound foot the heavenly flowers of joy. Nothing in was very the world is so full of confidence as a happy

pretty! being. Koula began to jump and dance

She had large, round Ivan Wassiliewitch. “Oh-ho! I deer-like eyes, gentle and intelligent, her can guess !” said he to himself. Koula, tiny head was delightfully roguish, and where are the puppies?” She was proud her young body was supple and elegant. of her youthful motherhood, and, wishing It was a pleasure to see her as she bounded to have someone to partake in her joy, she onwards with wonderful ease of action, led the stern man to the wild rose-bush, across the hay-scented meadows. Her where her dear ones were asleep. mad puppy pranks, caused by the pure They are no good !—too small ever to intoxication of delight at being alive, make sporting dogs," grunted he. Then, were bewitching, and she seemed to know in disgust, he took one of them up, lifting it too, for from time to time she came it by the skin of the neck in such a way coquettishly near to receive the fondling as to make the little animal groan pitifully, that her grace and pretty ways had earned, and cause the poor mother's eyes to kindle and then flew off again, full of light and with a light of unspeakable anguish. He lightness, as living creatures do when their threw down the puppy and stamped on its hearts are glad.

head with his broad heel, and he treated But a life of perpetual sunshine and the rest in the same way. hovering on the golden wings of happi- It was the first time that Koula had ness is not meant to last here below. known the sting of sorrow.

She was Koula was not under the direct guardian- nearly beside herself, and would have died ship of one of those beings refined by if we had not nursed her like a sick child. suffering who have learnt love, and whose For more than a fortnight she refused to hearts have been softened by their own eat; we poured warm milk by force into tears. No, the disposer of her earthly her mouth. For the first few days she career was Ivan Wassiliewitch, the hunts- lay stretched on the earth without uttering man, who had charge of all our poor a sound, then she began to groan so painsporting dogs. He was a hard, brutal fully and sadly that to hear it was to hear man, and it never even entered his head the echo of all the suffering and sorrow in that an animal could feel or suffer any- the world. Gradually she returned to life, thing, no matter of what kind.

but it was all over with her light heartedOne flowery, sweet-scented May morning ness and that overflowing merriment which Koula woke up, surrounded by darling had once made her so fascinating. A little creatures just like herself. They something which told of terror and mistrust were such pretty little things that she had taken the place of that confiding, cried with joy as she looked at them. trustful ease of manner which had before She was pierced by a feeling of rapture as distinguished her, and which seemed to yet new to her. Oh! how she loved her say to each and all that she had the best dear babies! Already she felt how they possible opinion of them, believing their would love her, as little by little the hearts to be full of love for all breathing trembling glimmer of life, so recently things. It reminded one of a poor little begun, should wax strong within them. being who, having hitherto lived under the Heaven and earth were bathed in sunlight eye of God, had suddenly come face to face for her, and her young mother-heart over with the monstrous depravity of man's flowed with love.

heart. No one could understand her grief.

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