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Even the she-wolf with young, on rapine bent,

He caught and tethered in his mat-walled tent,

And cherished all her little sharp-nosed young,

Till the small race with hope and terror clung

About his footsteps, till each new-reared brood,

Remoter from the memories of the wood

More glad discerned their common home with man.

This was the work of Jubal: he began

The pastoral life, and, sire of joys to be,

Spread the sweet ties that bind the family

O'er dear dumb souls that thrilled at man's caress,

And shared his pain with patient helpfulness.

George Eliot: Legend of Jubal.

Nor must we childishly feel contempt for the study of the lower animals, since in all nature's work there is something wonderful. And if any one thinks the study of other animals despicable, he must despise the study of his own nature.

Aristotle.