ABSTRACT
The civilisation, the manners, and the morals of dog-kind are to a great extent subordinated to those of his ancestral master, man. The leading distinction between dog and man after and perhaps before the different duration of their lives, is that the one can speak and that the other cannot. It is amazing how the use of language blunts the faculties of man—that because vainglory finds no vent in words, creatures supplied with eyes have been unable to detect a fault so gross and obvious. The person, man or dog, who has a conscience is eternally condemned to some degree of humbug; the sense of the law in their members fatally precipitates either towards a frozen and affected bearing. The attention of man and the regard of other dogs flatter (it would thus appear) the same sensibility; but perhaps, if the people could read the canine heart, they would be found to flatter it in very different degrees.
