FOWLS OF THE AIR. 
J UST one hundred and seventy years ago a certain clergyman, 
the Rev. James Granger, preached a sermon which gave 
mighty offence to his parishioners. Those were days when 
few people gave serious thought to the sufferings of what we 
arrogantly call the lower animals, and it was held to be frivolous, 
impertinent, and altogether derogatory to the dignity of the 
Church of England that horses and dogs should be mentioned 
from the pulpit, and cruelty towards them condemned as contrary 
to Christian mercy. The most plausible excuse put forward for 
the parson was that he had gone mad. Howbeit, mad or sane, 
good parson Granger afterwards published his sermon in the form 
of a pamphlet, called “ An Apology for the Brute Creation; or, 
Abuse of Animals Censured ” ; and thus the first note was sounded 
in that agitation which has resulted in our own day in the presence 
on the Statute Book of some of the most excellent laws ever 
devised. 
Peradventure the thought may enter the mind in one of our 
fashionable London churches, while the preacher sends a sympa¬ 
thetic thrill through a forest of feather-decked bonnets, how he 
might venture sometimes to chide the cruelty of fashion as well 
as its vanity and selfishness, It seems as if he would be doing 
his Master’s work as thoroughly were he to suspend eloquent 
elucidation of theological conundrums, in order to devote a spare 
half-hour to imploring mercy for our fellow-creatures—the birds. 
There were times, happily now for ever past in this country, 
when the Church profited by the ignorance of the people. Mourn- 
