circumstances of excitement are wont to behave like savages of the lower kind, showing in their conduct a lack of all sympathetic education, and contrast their behavior with that of their kinsmen from the fields—we see essential differences in character which cannot well be explained save by the diverse natures of the training which the men have received. Thus in the French Revolution, the baser, more inhuman deeds were not committed by the peasants, who had been the principal sufferers under the régime which was overthrown, but by the people of the great towns who had been less oppressed by the iniquities of the old system of government.

If it be true—as my personal experiences and observations lead me firmly to believe is the case—that man's contact with the domesticated animals has been and is ever to be one of the most effective means whereby his sympathetic, his civilized motives may be broadened and affirmed, there is clearly reason for giving to this side of life a larger share of attention than it has received. So far the presence of these lower creatures in our society has generally been accepted as a matter of course. Sentimentalists, after the fashion of Laurence Sterne, have dwelt upon the imaginary woes of the creatures. Associations of well-meaning people have endeavored to diminish the cruelty which people of the towns, rarely those bred on the soil, often inflict upon them. It seems, however, desirable that we should place this consideration upon a plane more fitting the knowledge of our time. It should be made plain, not only that the success of our civilization depends now as in the past on the coöperation which mankind has had from the domesticated animals, but also that the development of this relation is one of the most interesting features in all history. On through the ages of the geologic past comes this great procession of life, in the endless succession of species whose numbers in the aggregate are to be reckoned by the scores, if not by the hundreds of millions. Until this modern age, the throng goes forward blindly, groping its way towards the higher planes of life. At length certain of the more advanced forms attain to a measure of intellectual elevation. Still, for all this advance, the life is not organized so as to attain any large ends; no society arises from it.

Suddenly, in the last geological epoch, man, the descendant of a group which like all others had led the narrow life of the preparatory ages, appears upon the scene. At first, and in his lower human estate, his position was not noticeably higher than that of his kindred, but there was in him the seed of a great unlikeness, of very new things, in that his desires had an element of the unlimited which was to grow apace, and in time to make him greedy of on-going. As this innovating creature sought for agents of power in the wilderness about him, he blindly laid hands upon such of the fellow tenants of the wilds as might serve his immediate needs. This species, both animals and plants, endowed with the capacity for variation, the plasticity which is in general a characteristic of all organic forms, were early led by their new master, as of old they had been guided by the old organic laws. They changed according to his choice, abandoning their ancient ways for the novel paths of civilization. With this association of the higher forms of the earth under the leadership of man, there began an entirely new and unprecedented condition of the world's affairs. In place of the ancient law of nature there came the control of our species which had been, in a way, chosen to be the overlord of life.

At first, the number of species of animals and plants which man brought under his control was very limited; it was indeed confined to those which might readily be subjugated to meet immediate needs. Gradually, however, the list has been extended until it included thousands of forms, which, while they meet no need such as the savage recognizes, are gratifying to the taste or the ambitions of civilized peoples. These æsthetic devices, or those of necessity, are advancing so rapidly that each generation sees hundreds of new animal and plant species added to our living collections, so that our plant and animal gardens now contain a large share of the more attractive forms which are to be found in the various geographical realms. Our tilled fields yield perhaps a hundred times as many varieties of plants as they did in the earliest historic agriculture. The advance in the process of domestication is not so rapid as regards the animal kingdom as it is with the realm of plants, and this mainly for the reason that animals have a will of their own which has to be bent or broken to that of man. Still it goes on apace. We of to-day have at our command many times the number of sentient species contributive to our pleasure or profit that had been made captive at the beginning of our era. Naturally, in the early days of domestication, men brought under their control the greater number of the animals which gave promise of utility. As no new species of any economic importance have been created within the last geologic period, the field for the extension of economic domestication has of late been very limited. But the realm of sympathetic appreciation, unlike the economic, knows no definite bounds, and promises in time to bring all the more important organic forms under the care of the sympathetic and masterful being who has been chosen as the ruler of terrestrial life.

We thus see that the matter of domesticated animals is but a part of the larger problem which includes all that relates to man's destined mastery of the earth—a mastery which he is rapidly winning. It means that, in time, a large part of the life of this sphere is to be committed to his care, to survive or perish as he wills, to change at his bidding, to give, as other subjugated kinds have done, whatever of profit or pleasure they may contribute to his endless advancement. From this point of view our domesticated creatures should be presented to our people, with the purpose in mind of bringing them to see that the process of domestication has a far-reaching aspect, a dignity, we may fairly say a grandeur, that few human actions possess. If we can impress this view, it will be certain to awaken men to a larger sense of their responsibility for, and their duty by, the creatures which we have taken from their olden natural state into the social order. It will, at the same time, enlarge our conceptions of our own place in the order of this world.

In the following pages little effort has been made to present those facts concerning domesticated animals which would commonly be reckoned as scientific. The several essays which, in larger part, were separately printed in Scribner's Magazine, are intended for those persons who, while they may not care to approach the matter in the manner of the professional inquirer, are glad to have the results which naturalists have attained, so far as they may serve to extend knowledge of things which lie in the field of familiar experiences. To the text as it at first appeared, numerous additions have been made, and the concluding chapters, on the Rights of Animals, and on the Problem of Domestication, are new. In them an effort is made to direct attention to the importance of the problem of man's relation to the lower life which is about him, and which in the future far more than in the past is to be helped or hindered by his rule. Our life is made up of large problems; but there seem few that are greater than this, which concerns our duty by the creatures that share with us the blessings of existence, and over which we have come to rule.