Animals' Rights Considered in Relation to Social Progress E-Book

Henry S. Salt

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Seitenzahl: 148

Beschreibung

The immediate question that claims our attention is this-if men have rights, have animals their rights also? From the earliest times there have been thinkers who, directly or indirectly, answered this question with an affirmative. The Buddhist and Pythagorean canons, dominated perhaps by the creed of reincarnation, included the maxim "not to kill or injure any innocent animal." The humanitarian philosophers of the Roman empire, among whom Seneca, Plutarch, and Porphyry were the most conspicuous, took still higher ground in preaching humanity on the broadest principle of universal benevolence. "Since justice is due to rational beings," wrote Porphyry, "how is it possible to evade the admission that we are bound also to act justly towards the races below us?"

Leseprobe

Animals' Rights Considered in Relation to Social Progress

Animals' Rights Considered in Relation to Social ProgressPREFACECHAPTER I. THE PRINCIPLE OF ANIMALS’ RIGHTS.CHAPTER II. THE CASE OF DOMESTIC ANIMALS.CHAPTER III. THE CASE OF WILD ANIMALS.CHAPTER IV. THE SLAUGHTER OF ANIMALS FOR FOOD.CHAPTER V. SPORT, OR AMATEUR BUTCHERY.CHAPTER VI. MURDEROUS MILLINERY.CHAPTER VII. EXPERIMENTAL TORTURE.CHAPTER VIII. LINES OF REFORM.APPENDIXBIBLIOGRAPHY[60]FOOTNOTES:Copyright

Animals' Rights Considered in Relation to Social Progress

Henry S. Salt

PREFACE

As a memorial of work done on behalf of the rights of animals, it has been thought fitting, by members and friends of the late Humanitarian League, that a new edition of this little book should be published in the year that brings the centenary of “Martin’s Act,” the first legislation for the prevention of cruelty to the non-human races.Of the progress made in this branch of ethics, since 1822, some account is incidentally given in the book; and during the last few years the advance has been steadily continued. Attention has been drawn, for instance, to the antiquated methods employed in the slaughter of animals for food; and this has corresponded with an increase in the practice of vegetarianism. The treatment of other domestic animals, such as pit ponies, and the worn-out horses exported to the Continent, has stirred the public conscience; and at the same time the cruelty and folly of what is technically known as “the wild animal industry”—the kidnapping of “specimens” for exhibition in zoological gardens, or as “performing animals” on the stage—are becoming better understood.Again, the disgust caused by the ravages of “murderous millinery” (a term first used as a chapter-heading in this book) has taken visible shape in the recent Act for the regulation of the plumage trade; and even “sport,” the last and dearest stronghold of the savage, has been seriously menaced, not only bythe discontinuance of the Royal Buckhounds in 1901, but also lately by the emphatic condemnation of pigeon-shooting.The core of the contention for a recognition of the rights of animals will be found in the following passage of a letter addressed by Mr. Thomas Hardy to the Humanitarian League in 1910: “ Few people seem to perceive fully as yet that the most far-reaching consequence of the establishment of the common origin of all species is ethical; that it logically involved a readjustment of altruistic morals, by enlarging, as a necessity of rightness, the application of what has been called ‘The Golden Rule’ from the area of mere mankind to that of the whole animal kingdom.... While man was deemed to be a creation apart from all other creations, a secondary or tertiary morality was considered good enough to practise towards the ‘inferior’ races; but no person who reasons nowadays can escape the trying conclusion that this is not maintainable.”It may be taken, perhaps, as a sign of the extension of humane ideas that, since its first appearance in 1892, this essay on “Animals’ Rights” has passed through numerous editions, and has been translated into French, German, Dutch, Swedish, and other European tongues.Valuable suggestions concerning the book have reached me from several friends: in particular I am indebted to Sir George Greenwood, who has been actively associated, both in Parliament and elsewhere, with the cause of justice to animals.H. S. S.January 1922.

CHAPTER I. THE PRINCIPLE OF ANIMALS’ RIGHTS.

Have the lower animals “rights”? Undoubtedly—if men have. That is the point I wish to make evident in this opening chapter. But have men rights? Let it be stated at the outset that I have no intention of discussing the abstract theory of rights, which at the present time is looked upon with suspicion and disfavour by many social reformers, since it has not unfrequently been made to cover the most extravagant and contradictory assertions. But though its phraseology is vague, there is nevertheless a solid truth underlying it—a truth which has always been clearly apprehended by the moral faculty, however difficult it may be to establish it on an unassailable logical basis. If men have not “rights”—well, they have an unmistakable intimation of something very similar; a sense of justice which marks the boundary-line where acquiescence ceases and resistance begins; a demand for freedom to live their own lives, subject to the necessity of respecting the equal freedom of other people.Such is the doctrine of rights as formulated byHerbert Spencer. “Every man,” he says, “is free to do that which he wills, provided he infringes not the equal liberty of any other man.” And again, “Whoever admits that each man must have a certain restricted freedom, asserts that it isrighthe should have this restricted freedom.... And hence the several particular freedoms deducible may fitly be called, as they commonly are called, hisrights” (“Justice,” pp. 46, 62).[1]The fitness of this nomenclature is disputed, but the existence of some real principle of the kind can hardly be called in question; so that the controversy concerning “rights” is little else than an academic battle over words, which leads to no practical conclusion. I shall assume, therefore, that men are possessed of “rights,” in the sense of Herbert Spencer’s definition; and if any of my readers object to this qualified use of the term, I can only say that I shall be perfectly willing to change the word as soon as a more appropriate one is forthcoming.[2]The immediatequestion that claims our attention is this—if men have rights, have animals their rights also?From the earliest times there have been thinkers who, directly or indirectly, answered this question with an affirmative. The Buddhist and Pythagorean canons, dominated perhaps by the creed of reincarnation, included the maxim “not to kill or injure any innocent animal.” The humanitarian philosophers of the Roman empire, among whom Seneca, Plutarch, and Porphyry were the most conspicuous, took still higher ground in preaching humanity on the broadest principle of universal benevolence. “Since justice is due to rational beings,” wrote Porphyry, “how is it possible to evade the admission that we are bound also to act justly towards the races below us?”It is a lamentable fact that during the churchdom of the middle ages, from the fourth century to the sixteenth, from the time of Porphyry to the time of Montaigne, little or no attention was paid to the question of the rights and wrongs of the lower races. Then, with the Reformation and the revival of learning, came a revival also of humanitarian feeling, as may be seen in many passages of Erasmus and More, Shakespeare and Bacon; but it was not until the eighteenth century, the age of enlightenment and “sensibility,” of which Voltaire and Rousseau were the spokesmen, that the rights of animals obtained more deliberate recognition. From the great Revolutionof 1789 dates the period when the world-wide spirit of humanitarianism, which had hitherto been felt by but one man in a million—the thesis of the philosopher or the vision of the poet—began to disclose itself, gradually and dimly at first, as an essential feature of democracy.A great and far-reaching effect was produced in England at this time by the publication of such revolutionary works as Thomas Paine’s “Rights of Man” and Mary Wollstonecraft’s “Vindication of the Rights of Woman”; and looking back now, after the lapse of a hundred years, we can see that a still wider extension of the theory of rights was thenceforth inevitable. In fact, such a claim was anticipated—if only in bitter jest—by a contemporary writer, who furnishes us with a notable instance of how the mockery of one generation may become the reality of the next. There was published anonymously in 1792 a little volume entitled “A Vindication of the Rights of Brutes,”[3]areductio ad absurdumof Mary Wollstonecraft’s essay, written, as the author informs us, “to evince by demonstrative arguments the perfect equality of what is called the irrational species to the human.” The further opinion is expressed that “after those wonderful productions of Mr. Paine and Mrs. Wollstonecraft, such a theory as the present seems to be necessary.” Itwasnecessary; and a very short term of years sufficed to bring it into effect; indeed, the theory had already been put forward by several English pioneers of nineteenth-century humanitarianism.To Jeremy Bentham, in particular, belongs the high honour of first asserting the rights of animals with authority and persistence. “ The legislator,” he wrote, “ought to interdict everything which may serve to lead to cruelty. The barbarous spectacles of gladiators no doubt contributed to give the Romans that ferocity which they displayed in their civil wars. A people accustomed to despise human life in their games could not be expected to respect it amid the fury of their passions. It is proper for the same reason to forbid every kind of cruelty towards animals, whether by way of amusement, or to gratify gluttony. Cock-fights, bull-baiting, hunting hares and foxes, fishing, and other amusements of the same kind, necessarily suppose either the absence of reflection or a fund of inhumanity, since they produce the most acute sufferings to sensible beings, and the most painful and lingering death of which we can form any idea. Why should the law refuse its protection to any sensitive being? The time will come when humanity will extend its mantle over everything which breathes. We have begun by attending to the condition of slaves; we shall finish by softening that of all the animals which assist our labours or supply our wants.”[4]So, too, wrote one of Bentham’s contemporaries: “The grand source of the unmerited and superfluous misery of beasts exists in a defect in the constitution of all communities. No human government, I believe, has ever recognized thejus animalium, which ought surely to form a part of the jurisprudence of every system founded on the principles of justiceand humanity.”[5]A number of later moralists have followed on the same lines, with the result that the rights of animals have already, to a certain limited extent, been established both in private usage and by legal enactment.It is interesting to note the exact commencement of this new principle in law. When Lord Erskine, speaking in the House of Lords in 1811, advocated the cause of justice to the lower animals, he was greeted with loud cries of insult and derision. But eleven years later the efforts of the despised humanitarians, and especially of Richard Martin, of Galway, were rewarded by their first success. The passing of the Ill-treatment of Cattle Bill, commonly known as “Martin’s Act,” in July, 1822, is a memorable date in the history of humane legislation, less on account of the positive protection afforded by it, for it applied only to cattle and “beasts of burden,” than for the invaluable precedent which it created. From 1822 onward, the principle of thatjus animaliumfor which Bentham had pleaded, was recognized, however partially and tentatively at first, by English law, and the animals included in the Act ceased to be the mere property of their owners; moreover the Act has been several times supplemented and extended during the past half century. It is scarcely possible, in the face of this legislation, to maintain that “rights” are a privilege with which none but human beings can be invested; for ifsomeanimals are already includedwithin the pale of protection, why should not more and more be so included in the future?[6]For the present, however, what is most urgently needed is some comprehensive and intelligible principle, which shall indicate, in a more consistent manner, the true lines of man’s moral relation towards the lower animals. Hitherto even the leading advocates of animals’ rights seem to have shrunk from basing their claim on the only argument which can ultimately be held to be a sufficient one—the assertion that animals, as well as men, though, of course, to a far less extent than men, are possessed of a distinctive individuality, and therefore are in justice entitled to live their lives with a due measure of that “restricted freedom” to which Herbert Spencer alludes. It is of little use to claim “rights” for animals in a vague general way, if with the same breath we explicitly show our determination to subordinate those rights to anything and everything that can be construed into a human “want”; nor will it ever be possible to obtain full justice for the lower races so long as we continue to regard them as beings of a wholly different order, and to ignore the significance of their numberless points of kinship with mankind.For example, it has been said by a well-knownwriter on the subject of humanity to animals[7]that “the life of a brute, having no moral purpose, can best be understood ethically as representing the sum of itspleasures; and the obligation, therefore, of producing the pleasures of sentient creatures must be reduced, in their case, to the abstinence from unnecessary destruction of life.” Now, with respect to this statement, I must say that the notion of the life of an animal having “no moral purpose” belongs to a class of ideas which cannot possibly be accepted by the advanced humanitarian thought of the present day—it is a purely arbitrary assumption, at variance with our best science, and absolutely fatal (if the subject be clearly thought out) to any full realization of animals’ rights. If we are ever going to do justice to the lower races, we must get rid of the antiquated notion of a “great gulf” fixed between them and mankind, and must recognize the common bond of humanity that unites all living beings in one universal brotherhood.As far as any excuses can be alleged, in explanation of the insensibility or inhumanity of the western nations in their treatment of animals, these excuses may be mostly traced back to one or the other of two theories, wholly different in origin, yet alike in this—that both postulate an absolute difference of nature between men and the lower kinds.The first is the so-called “religious” notion, which awards immortality to man, but to man alone, thereby furnishing (especially in Catholic countries) a quibblingjustification for acts of cruelty to animals, on the plea that they “have no souls.” “It should seem,” says Mrs. Jameson,[8] “ as if the primitive Christians, by laying so much stress upon a future life, in contradistinction tothislife, and placing the lower creatures out of the pale of hope, placed them at the same time out of the pale of sympathy, and thus laid the foundation for this utter disregard of animals in the light of our fellow-creatures.”I am aware that a quite contrary argument has, in a few isolated instances, been founded on the belief that animals have “no souls.” “Cruelty to a brute,” says an old writer,[9] “ is an injury irreparable,” because there is no future life to be a compensation for present afflictions; and there is an amusing story, told by Mr. Lecky in his “History of European Morals,” of a certain humanely-minded Cardinal, who used to allow vermin to bite him without hindrance, on the ground that “we shall have heaven to reward us for our sufferings, but these poor creatures have nothing but the enjoyment of this present life.” But this is a rare view of the question which need not, I think, be taken into very serious account; for, on the whole, the denial of immortality to animals (unless, of course, it be also denied to men) tends strongly to lessen their chance of being justly and considerately treated. Among the many humane movements of the present age, none is more significant than the growing inclination, noticeable both in scientific circles and in religious, tobelieve that mankind and the lower animals have the same destiny before them.[10]The second and not less fruitful source of modern inhumanity is to be found in the “Cartesian” doctrine—the theory of Descartes and his followers—that the lower animals are devoid of consciousness and feeling; a theory which carried the “religious” notion a step further, and deprived the animals not only of their claim to a life hereafter, but of anything that could, without mockery, be called a life in the present, since mere “animated machines,” as they were thus affirmed to be, could in no real sense be said toliveat all! Well might Voltaire turn his humane ridicule against this most monstrous contention, and suggest, with scathing irony, that God “had given the animals the organs of feeling, to the end that they mightnotfeel!” “The theory of animal automatism,” says Professor Romanes, “which is usually attributed to Descartes, can never be accepted by common sense.” Yet it is to be feared that it has done much, in its time, to harden “scientific” sense against the just complaints of the victims of human arrogance and oppression.[11]Let me here quote a most impressive passage from Schopenhauer. “ The unpardonable forgetfulness in which the lower animals have hitherto been left by the moralists of Europe is well known. It is pretended that the beasts have no rights. They persuade themselves that our conduct in regard to them has nothing to do with morals, or (to speak the language of their morality) that we have no duties towards animals: a doctrine revolting, gross, and barbarous, peculiar to the west, and having its root in Judaism. In philosophy, however, it is made to rest upon a hypothesis, admitted in despite of evidence itself, of an absolute difference between man and beast. It is Descartes who has proclaimed it in the clearest and most decisive manner; and in fact it was a necessary consequence of his errors. The Cartesian-Leibnitzian-Wolfian philosophy, with the assistance of entirely abstract notions, had built up the ‘rational psychology,’ and constructed an immortalanima rationalis: but, visibly, the world of beasts, with its very natural claims, stood up against this exclusive monopoly—thisbrevetof immortality decreed to man alone—and silently Nature did what she always does in such cases—she protested. Our philosophers, feeling their scientific conscience quite disturbed, were forced to attempt to consolidate their ‘rational psychology’ by the aid of empiricism. They therefore set themselves to work to hollow out between man and beast an enormous abyss, of an immeasurable width; by this they wish to prove to us, in contempt of evidence, an impassable difference.”[12]The fallacious idea that the lives of animals have no moral purpose is at root connected with these religiousand philosophical pretensions which Schopenhauer so powerfully condemns. To live one’s own life—to realize one’s true self—is the highest moral purpose of man and animal alike; and that animals possess their due measure of this sense of individuality is scarcely open to doubt. “We have seen,” says Darwin, “that the senses and intuitions, the various emotions and faculties, such as love, memory, attention, curiosity, imitation, reason, etc., of which man boasts, may be found in an incipient, or even sometimes in a well-developed condition, in the lower animals.”[13]