WHY IS KILLING ESSENTIAL TO THEIR HAPPINESS?
Every day you read of men well-to-do who are going to the country—to kill something. The hunter goes out in his boat or walks through the woods, in the beautiful climate of the South. There are a thousand things to please and attract him—the warm sun, the sky with its changing qualities, the smooth water, and all of the wonderful forms of animal life. The squirrel jumps twenty times its own length from one branch to another. The wild birds alight on the smooth water, swimming and diving and enjoying each other's company. Harmless, foolish little rabbits hop about looking for something to eat. The prosperous man who has come out to enjoy nature can not be happy unless he can kill some one of these harmless creatures. He does not need them. He has all that he wants to eat. He has a dog, or he pays another man, to pick up the carcasses. It is his delight to bring down the bird on the wing or to shoot some poor animal as it dashes through the woods, seeking safety. He presses the trigger, ends the life of an animal that has never done him any harm, destroys the happiness of some poor animal family, feels very proud and happy as he reloads his gun, and looks for a chance to destroy another life. His kidneys are out of order or his liver is sluggish. He must be persuaded to walk and get fresh air—and the love of killing persuades him to do that which is good for his kidneys and liver. There is really no need for the question which heads this column. The love of killing animals is inborn, and it is natural. The strongest thing about us is heredity. Emotions which have been bred in us for centuries can only be kept in check by the cultivation and force of will. For hundreds and thousands of years men have killed other things that they might live. They have stalked all kinds of animals, from the mammoth to the grasshopper, and each day of man's life meant inevitably the ending of the life of one or more humble creatures. The habit of ages is not to be lived down in a moment, or even in a century. But certainly the killing instinct ought first to disappear among those whose brains have been developed on lines other than killing. It would seem only reasonable to ask that a man intellectual enough to attain the presidency of the United States should find sufficient pleasure in contemplation of nature's beauties and the wonderful works of God Almighty without craving additional sensation from destroying a harmless, helpless creature's life.—San Francisco Examiner.