on--that the king of the Cannibal Isles no longer
flatters a ship's master by inquiring which head of all his subjects is
ornamented most to his fancy, and the next day sending him that head as
a souvenir of his visit to the anthropophagic shores. It is well that
the custom is dead. But is there not danger of drifting too far even
toward the shore of compassion? May it not be that there is something
wrong with the bowels of mercy when criminals are executed barbarously,
while science needs their lives, or at least an insight into the method
of their dying; when precise examination of the manner of nerve and
blood supply to the organs of a superannuated horse is heavily finable;
when charitable but perchance too enthusiastic societies for the
prevention of cruelty to animals push their earnestness even to
interference with scientific researches, because, forsooth! they
jeopardize the lives of rabbits, guinea-pigs and dogs? The legend _Cave
canem_ bears a deeper meaning now than it did in the inlaid pavements
of Pompeian vestibules. We dare not trample it under foot.

Five years passed, and with restored health back came the old desires in
redoubled force. Fournier longed to return to civilization and to work.
The life that had been so delightful while it did him good became
utterly unbearable when he had reaped its full benefit. I am tempted to
quote a line about Europe and Cathay, but refrain: it will recur to the
reader. He burned to renew the labors he had abandoned, to take up again
the work he had laid down to do battle with disease, now that disease
was vanquished. Thus the year 1863 found him in the city of Charleston,
homeward bound in his journey around the world.

While still in the wilds west of the Mississippi he could have shaped
his course northward and readily proceeded directly by steamer from New
York to Europe. But a determined purpose led him to choose a different
course, though he was well aware that it would involve indefinite delay
in reaching Paris, and great personal risk. The life he had been leading
made him think lightly of danger, and years would be well spent if he
could accomplish the plans that induced him to go into the disorganized
country of the South.

He straightway connected himself with the army as surgeon, and solicited
a place at the front. He wanted active service. In this he was
disappointed. Charleston, blockaded and beseiged, was in a state of
military inaction. Save the occa