From what has been written by some naturalists as to the "benevolence" of animals, it is probable that some may be prepared to take exception to the statement of Mr. Darwin. There is no need for here entering upon discussion which might thus be raised, and which would entail the task of criticising multitudes of statements made in a singularly loose and unscientific manner. There is not any more careful observer than Mr. Darwin, the whole record of whose observations gives confidence in his testimony, and his patient reflection on the real significance of what he has seen. We may, however, leave this matter to naturalists, that they may decide whether this conclusion as to animals requires some modification. The purpose of the present argument is to show that an authoritative law of benevolence does apply to human life, in direct contrast with the ordinary law of animal life, giving special force to the struggle for existence as witnessed in the history of the lower orders of beings. One possible entanglement for the present argument must, however, be carefully shunned. In the comparison between man and animal, we are apt to diverge into a discussion of what men and animals severally _do_. This is a question considerably different from that now under discussion, and yet it lies in such close proximity as to afford the greatest facilities for confusion of thought. We are not here comparing what animals do, with what men do; we are comparing the actions of animals with what we _know men ought to do_. It is this question of _ought_ which appears as the outstanding and distinguishing feature in human life, on which we are now seeking to direct attention with all the concentration which physiologists secure when the microscope is directed on brain tissue. The true feature here is elevation and complexity of _intellectual_ action, and the possibility of assigning this to brain action. The question is no doubt concerned with conduct both in the animal, and in man,--but what we wish to ascertain is, how far action or conduct in the two cases throws light on the exercise of intelligence possible to man and to animal. It is admitted that to act on a law of benevolence requires a higher exercise of intelligence, than to act under a law of desire or sensitive impulse; and we wish to reach definite conclusions on two points; _first_, and subordinately, whether animals ever act on the higher law; _second_, and chiefly, whether such action does not involve as its condition an intellectual exercise of a higher order than can be assigned to brain. The former of these questions, subordinate to the present inquiry, may be left to naturalists. The second concerns us directly here, in the more important discussion as to man.