ive to development. Here is blood upon the
hand still, and all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten it."[13]

Even so thoughtful a writer as Professor Huxley adopts similar views. In
a recent article on "The Struggle for Existence" he speaks of the
myriads of generations of herbivorous animals which "have been tormented
and devoured by carnivores"; of the carnivores and herbivores alike
"subject to all the miseries incidental to old age, disease, and
over-multiplication"; and of the "more or less enduring suffering,"
which is the meed of both vanquished and victor. And he concludes that,
since thousands of times a minute, were our ears sharp enough, we should
hear sighs and groans of pain like those heard by Dante at the gate of
hell, the world cannot be governed by what we call benevolence.[14]

Now there is, I think, good reason to believe that all this is greatly
exaggerated; that the supposed "torments" and "miseries" of animals have
little real existence, but are the reflection of the imagined sensations
of cultivated men and women in similar circumstances; and that the
amount of actual suffering caused by the struggle for existence among
animals is altogether insignificant. Let us, therefore, endeavour to
ascertain what are the real facts on which these tremendous accusations
are founded.

In the first place, we must remember that animals are entirely spared
the pain we suffer in the anticipation of death--a pain far greater, in
most cases, than the reality. This leads, probably, to an almost
perpetual enjoyment of their lives; since their constant watchfulness
against danger, and even their actual flight from an enemy, will be the
enjoyable exercise of the powers and faculties they possess, unmixed
with any serious dread. There is, in the next place, much evidence to
show that violent deaths, if not too prolonged, are painless and easy;
even in the case of man, whose nervous system is in all probability much
more susceptible to pain than that of most animals. In all cases in
which persons have escaped after being seized by a lion or tiger, they
declare that they suffered little or no pain, physical or mental. A
well-known instance is that of Livingstone, who thus describes his
sensations when seized by a lion: "Starting and looking half round, I
saw the lion just in the act of springing on me. I was upon a little
height; he caught my shoulder as he sprang, and we both came to the
ground below together. Growl