48 Chapters on Animals. 



incredibly wild energy is in the creature's quiet habits sub- 

 dued with an exquisite moderation. The cat always uses 

 precisely the necessary force, other animals roughly employ 

 what strength they happen to possess without reference to 

 the small occasion. One day I watched a young cat play- 

 ing with a daffodil. She sat on her hind-legs and patted 

 the flower with her paws, first with one paw and then with 

 the other, making the light yellow bell sway from side to 

 side, yet not injuring a petal or a stamen. She took a 

 delight, evidently, in the very delicacy of the exercise, 

 whereas a dog or a horse has no enjoyment of delicacy in 

 his own movements, but acts strongly when he is strong, 

 without calculating whether the force used may not be in 

 great part superfluous. This proportioning of the force to 

 the need is well known to be one of the evidences of refined 

 culture, both in manners and in the fine arts. If animals 

 could speak as fabulists have feigned, the dog would be a 

 blunt, blundering, out-spoken, honest fellow, but the cat 

 would have the rare talent of never saying a word too much. 

 A hint of the same character is conveyed by the sheathing 

 of the claws, and also by the contractability of the pupil of 

 the eye. The hostile claws are invisible, and are not shown 

 when they are wanted, yet are ever sharp and ready. The 

 eye has a narrow pupil in broad daylight, receiving no 

 more sunshine than is agreeable, but it will gradually ex- 

 pand as twilight falls, and clear vision needs a larger and 

 larger surface. Some of these cat-qualities are very desir- 

 able in criticism. The claws of a critic ought to be very 

 sharp, but not perpetually prominent, and his eye ought to 

 see far into rather obscure subjects without being dazzled 

 by plain daylight. 



It is odd that, notwithstanding the extreme beauty of 

 cats, their elegance of motion, the variety and intensity of 



