imid bird or
mammal becomes strong and fierce in defence of her young. In the
presence of this emotion appetite and fear are alike forgotten.

But this affection or love once started does not remain limited to
parent and offspring. Mammals, especially the higher forms, are
social. They frequently go in herds and troops, and appear to have a
genuine affection for each other. You all know how in herds of
cattle or wild horses the males form a circle around the females and
young at the approach of wolves. A troop of orangs were surprised by
dogs at a little distance from their shelter. The old male orangs
formed a ring and beat off the dogs until the females and young
could escape, and then retreated. But as they were now in
comparative safety a cry came from one young one, who had been
unable to keep up in the scramble over the rocks, and was left on a
bowlder surrounded by the dogs. Then one old orang turned back,
fought his way through the dogs, tucked the little fellow under one
arm, fought his way out with the other, and brought the young one to
safety. I call that old orang a hero, but I am prejudiced and may
easily be mistaken.

In a cage in a European zooelogical garden there were kept together a
little American monkey and a large baboon of which the former was
greatly afraid. The keeper, to whom the little monkey was strongly
attached, was one day attacked and thrown down by the baboon and in
danger of being killed. Then the little monkey ran to his help, and
bit and beat his tyrant companion until he allowed the keeper to
escape. We are all proud that the little monkey was an American.

Instances of disinterested actions are so common among dogs and
horses that farther illustrations are entirely unnecessary. And
disinterested action is limited to fewer cases because the
environment is rarely suited to its development in the animal world.
But do you answer that the affection of the dog is never really
disinterested, but a very refined form of selfishness. Possibly. But
it were to be greatly desired that selfishness would more frequently
take that same refined form among men. But I cannot see how
selfishness can ever become so refined as to lead an animal to die
of grief over its master's grave.

And if refined selfishness were all, I for one cannot help believing
that the dog would long ago have been asleep on a full stomach
before the kitchen fire. Has no attempt been made to prove that all
human actions ar