ding you with a lordly blink of
independence. No; decidedly the cat is not a slave. Of course I must be
logical, and therefore I allow, under reasonable reservations, that a
boot-jack, used as a projectile, will make a cat stir; and I have known
a large garden-syringe cause a most picturesque exodus in the case of
some eloquent and thoughtful cats that were holding a conference in a
garden at midnight. Still I must carefully point out the fact that the
boot-jack will not induce the cat to travel in any given direction for
your convenience; you throw the missile, and you must wait in suspense
until you know whether your cat will vanish with a wild plunge through
the roof of your conservatory or bound with unwonted smartness into your
favourite William pear tree. The syringe is scarcely more trustworthy in
its action than the boot-jack; the parting remarks of six drenched cats
are spirited and harmonious; but the animals depart to different
quarters of the universe, and your hydraulic measure, so far from
bringing order out of chaos, merely evokes a wailing chaos out of
comparative order. These discursive observations aim at showing that a
cat has a haughty spirit of independence which centuries of partial
submission to the suzerainty of man have not eradicated. I do not want
to censure the ancient personage who made friends with the creature
which is a thing of beauty and a joy for ever to many estimable
people--I reserve my judgment. Some otherwise calm and moral men regard
the cat in such a light that they would go and jump on the tomb of the
primeval tamer; others would erect monuments to him; so perhaps it is
better that we do not know whose memory we should revere--or
anathematise--the processes are reversible, according to our
dispositions. Man is the paragon of animals; the cat is the paradox of
animals. You cannot reason about the creature; you can only make sure
that it has every quality likely to secure success in the struggle for
existence; and it is well to be careful how you state your opinions in
promiscuous company, for the fanatic cat-lover is only a little less
wildly ferocious than the fanatical cat-hater.

Cats and pigs appear to have been the first creatures to earn the
protective affection of man; but, ah, what a cohort of brutes and birds
have followed! The dog is an excellent, noble, lovable animal; but the
pet-dog! Alas! I seem to hear one vast sigh of genuine anguish as this
Essay travels round t