Through the emotions we are apt to judge ourselves somewhat superior to the animal creation, though perhaps a more thorough study and interest in the “smiles and tears” of the so-called creatures of lesser intelligence would teach us that the emotions play almost as important and distinctive a part in their organism as in our own oversensitive nerve force. I am not speaking of the emotion of fear and anger that is instinctive in all animals, but of the more subtle emotions of joy and grief as visibly expressed. The older epic writers made much of the grief expressed by horses, and their sorrows have formed many an heroic verse. Merrick, in his “Tryphiodorus,” says:

Says Moschus:

Virgil, who was probably more conversant with the horse and his interests than almost any other writer of that faraway period, thus writes of the sorrow of Pallas’ steed:

In the Iliad, Homer thus renders the emotion of Patroclus’ war horses evinced for that hero:

Shakespeare, in “As You Like It,” tells of the tears shed by a wounded stag:

All, or nearly all, animals are sensitive to music, which affects them in various ways, and again it is Shakespeare who refers to this sensitiveness in even untrained horses, proving its effect to be instinctive:

There is an ancient account of the Libyan mares to whom it was necessary to discourse sweet music in order to tame them sufficiently to be milked, and the horses of the Sybarites, who have been taught to dance to certain strains of music, inopportunely heard the same strains of music on their way to battle and very much chagrined their masters by stopping to dance instead of going forward to fight, such was the influence of the familiar tune. De Vere gives an account of a certain Lord Holland who was very eccentric, and used during the time of William III to give his horses weekly concerts in a covered gallery specially erected for the purpose. He maintained that it cheered their hearts and improved their temper, and an eye witness says that they seemed to be greatly delighted with the performance. Not at all a bad suggestion for owners of those horses who do not “come up to time” at the present day. A few years ago, according to the “American Naturalist,” experiments were made in Lincoln Park, Chicago, to determine with scientific accuracy the effect of violin playing on different animals. It says:

“Music which was slow and sweet, like ‘Home, Sweet Home,’ or ‘Annie Laurie,’ pleased the panthers, a jaguar and a lioness and her cubs. The panthers became nervous and twitched their tails when a lively jig, ‘The Irish Washerwoman,’ was played to them, and relapsed into their former quiet when the music again became soothing.

“The jaguar was so nervous during the jig music that he jumped from a shelf to the floor of his cage and back again. When the player ceased playing and walked away the jaguar reached out his paw to him as far as he could. His claws were drawn back.

“The lioness and her cubs were interested from the first, though when the violinist approached the cage the mother gave him a hiss and the cubs hid behind her. At the playing of a lively jig the cubs stood up on their hind legs and peeped over at the player. When the musician retreated from the cage the animals came to the front of it and did not move back when he gradually drew so near as almost to touch the great paws that were thrust through the bars. When playing ‘Home, Sweet Home,’ the entire family seemed very attentive, and were motionless except that the cubs turned their heads from side to side. Then another jig was played and the cubs danced about.

“The coyotes, in a den, squatted in a semi-circle and sat silently while the music continued. When it ceased they ran up and pawed at the player through the bars. He began afresh, and they again formed in a silent semi-circle. This experiment was tried several times with the same results.”

Many of us are familiar with the story of the man who was chased by wolves and who climbed to the rafters of an old cabin out of reach of the vicious fangs, but who fortunately carried with him an old violin, and through its means he was able to hold the wolves in thrall the night through by his music until the last string of the violin snapped and the brutes prepared to make an onslaught, but at that moment the first gleams of the coming day appeared and the wolves forsook their prey and disappeared.

Much has been written of the effect of music upon elephants and their tempers. Gentle strains have moved them to caresses, and martial music arouses them to a sort of fury. It has been written that the Arab, than whom there is no truer lover of the animal creation, entertains his camel with music, songs and fairy tales. When the animal lags in its long swinging trot, the Bedouin draws his reed-pipe from the folds of his turban and sharp and shrill its notes are heard far across the dusky sands, and the weary camel, encouraged by its notes, moves on again with enlivened motion.

It has often been noticed how quickly a cow will distinguish a new bell, and how great a disturbance is created in the whole herd, who will often take it upon themselves to chastise the unwary wearer. De Vere is an authority for the fact that the leader of a herd of cows when deprived of her beloved bell will weep bitter tears, and says that there are many instances of cows that have died when deprived of their harmonious ornament.

That mice have a musical ear and taste is a well known fact, but the lowest type of animal that is visibly affected by a strain of music is the turtle. Readers of that sensational tale, “The Household of Bouverie,” will remember the history of the small tortoise “Merodach” whom his master could summon at will by playing a certain air on an old lyre, a tale that was said to be founded on fact.

Alberta A. Field.