There is a well-known story of an American statesman who was reared by Vegetarian parents in the country, and taken while still a small boy to dine at a neighbour's. During the progress of the meal a large platter was borne into the room, on which lay something the like of which he had not seen on any table. He stared in wonder, and finally located the resemblance and shouted, "Why, mother, if that isn't a dead hen!" Habit had not overcome his horror of that particular dead thing as food, as it would have done had he seen dead hens served as food all his life. As to the inconvenience caused my friends when I am at their tables, I consider it of such small consequence compared to the fact that even one child should be standing almost knee-deep in blood in some slaughter-house, working to supply my wants, that it is not worth a second thought. No one need go hungry from any well-planned dinner, even though no extra preparation has been made for the non-meat-eating guest; but if my hostess knows in advance that I do not eat meat, and wishes to have prepared an especial dish, I give her the benefit of the doubt, and believe that she is as pleased to do it as I would be in her place. We like to take a little extra trouble to entertain our friends, and the thought expended to give others pleasure is perhaps the real joy of hospitality. Another class of objector likes to remind us that we take life when we eat vegetables, or drink, or breathe. A friend, who has since ceased to consider the unnecessary and cruel slaughtering of thousands of creatures daily a fit subject for joking, once sent me in raillery a sonnet which rehearsed the sad death suffered by a cabbage to satisfy a Vegetarian's selfish cravings. I find no qualms in my own conscience on this subject, but should I ever come to feel as these over-sensitive claim I should, I hope I will not then eat even the "innocent cabbage." Again, if the germs in the water we drink and the air we breathe do die by reason of our drinking and breathing I endure no self-condemnation. Man cannot be required to do the impossible by any Principle of Good, and to do each day what good he is able to do, to avoid the evil he can avoid, and in every difficulty choose what he thinks to be the lesser of two evils, is perhaps as much as even Divine Love expects of him to-day.