plies the possession of those higher
attributes, the aggregate of which is the soul, which by man is
arrogantly claimed to exist exclusively in man. And it is the violent
separation of this soul from its earthly body, which makes it the
heinous crime, murder; while the beast, not possessing a soul, may be
killed without scruple, and without crime. Hence I say, 'Was it murder
to kill a dog?' and at once, in so few words, I raise the question as
to whether the dog has not a soul."
"I follow you. Your explanation is only what I expected. I said that I
liked the next line: 'For only a dog I was; or may I say, I am?' This
time I will show you that I comprehend you. The question here implies
much. If the dog is annihilated at death, then this dog ceased to
exist when his master slew him. But he is speaking; he realizes that
he continues to exist. Therefore, he says most pertinently, 'or may I
say, I am?' The question carries its own affirmative, for what is not,
cannot question its own existence. The subtilty here is very nice. You
convince your reader by presenting what seems to be a self-evident
proposition, and if he admits this, he must accord immortality to the
dog, for he that after death may say 'I am' is immortal. But the flaw,
which you have so well hidden, lies in the fact that you have started
with the assumption of that which you have essayed to prove. You make
the dead dog speak, which would be an impossibility had he been
annihilated."
"I am delighted, Doctor, at the way in which you criticise me. But I
am contending that the dog is immortal, hence my assumption at the
very start, that though dead, he may record his sensations. I do not
really mean to discuss the point, nor to prove it. I merely mean
dogmatically to assume it. I picture a dog, who in life believed that
death would be his total extinction, but who, when suddenly deprived
of life, finds that he is still in existence, and endeavors to analyze
his condition. If you will overlook the seeming egotism of pointing
out what I think the most subtile idea, I would call your attention to
the line where, concluding that he is immortal, he says 'Here I am,'
and instantly asks 'Where am I?'"
"Yes. I had already admired that and what follows; but I will ask you
to expound it yourself."
"You are very kind," said Leon, pleased, and eager to talk upon his
subject. "He asks where he is, and after a moment decides that he is
in his master's mind. Then he ar
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