i62 THE FIRESIDE SPHINX 



thought rather than to men of action. Shelley- 

 basking by the fire, Johnson immured in shabby 

 London lodgings, Scott, when his increasing lame- 

 ness deprived him of the outdoor pleasures that he 

 loved, Matthew Arnold in the simple country life 

 that pleased him best, — all learned to appreciate 

 the gentleness, the composure, the exquisite urban- 

 ity of the cat. Statesmen have ever been partial 

 to an animal whose subtlety of spirit far exceeds 

 their own. Colbert, following the example of Riche- 

 lieu, was wont to play for hours with his kittens, 

 and Canning wrote verses in praise of his cat. It 

 has even happened that sailors and soldiers, like 

 Admiral Doria and Marshal Turenne, have frankly 

 avowed the engrossing nature of their preference. 

 Doria was painted with his cat by his side ; Turenne 

 had whole families of pussies whom he loved and 

 cared for. Lord Heathfield, when Gibraltar was 

 besieged by the Spaniards, used to appear every 

 day on the walls, attended by his cats, — quiet, 

 composed beasts, who kept close to their master, 

 and seemed in no wise disturbed by the roar and 

 rattle of artillery. More strange and more pitiful 

 to relate, there were found, after the battle of Sebas- 

 topol, a number of cats clinging, frightened and for- 

 lorn, to the knapsacks of the dead Russian soldiers. 

 They had followed their only friends into the midst 

 of that terrible carnage, and, desperate with terror, 

 refused to be driven from the field. 



