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 emotion: **The world will never see another Rio. And few dogs ever had, or ever will have, such a master. Over his grave I shed a tear, as I did over him fre- quently as I saw nature failing." ^o

Perhaps it is possible to overdo this matter of sym- pathy with animals. It seems to some of us that the uni- versal pity of the nineteenth century rather tended to increase the aggregate of sentient woe than to diminish it. When Uncle Toby spares the pestilent fly, we love him for it, especially as he was not aware of the huge maleficence with which later investigation was to load that domestic parasite. But when Stephens mourns over the necessary destruction of prison bedbugs, he seems to push altruism to the edge of the ludicrous — and over. " I have often felt sorry for what I have to do to these bloodsuckers. Most willingly would I turn them loose and let them go away, if they would go and stay, but this they will not do. Between them and me, therefore, there is * an irrepressible conflict.' Either I or they must be extinguished." ^i

In the more important field of pity for human suffering and of attempts to relieve the wretched and to assist the struggling and downtrodden, we can have nothing but admiration for Stephens's persistent endeavor. He does, indeed, as with regard to Rio above, indulge in very frank statement of his own merit in this kind : " While I have been here I have with free will and of my own ac- cord labored, I think, more for the benefit of others than

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