Suppose green pastures and still waters, the shade of trees, the warmth of the sun, the shelter of roof and walls; suppose protection and kind care, provision for the winter, and that we only shared the milk with the calves instead of barbarously separating the mother from her young. Calves might be bottle-fed, to satisfy their hunger, and afterward turned loose with the mother; they could not take all the milk then, and we might have the rest.
Suppose creatures thus living in an animal paradise, then gathered in small numbers, in local centers, and neatly, instantaneously and painlessly killed, any surgeon can tell us how. They could then be dressed, chilled and sent to larger centers for more general distribution.
What hardship, to them, is involved in this?
Die they must, some time, and by worse methods. In a wild state or a tame they must either be killed by something or die slowly of old age and incapacity.
Even if we nursed the toothless ox, and fed him with a spoon, he would not enjoy it.
We have to admit that in this whole round world all creatures die, and that in most cases, their lives are taken by others.
Looked at from a strictly scientific point of view, this is evidently the order of nature, her universal law. Looked at from a religious point of view, it is as evidently the will of God, His universal law.
Some postulate a sinless Eden past, before this killing habit began; and foresee a sinless Millennium to come, when we shall have outgrown it. These do not use their imaginations enough. Even if Edenic or Millennial tigers could digest grass and apples, are they therefore immortal? Is a species to live on forever in one representative, or one Platonic pair?
Because if we have life, as we know it, we have also reproduction, the direction for which precedes the picture of Eden; each pair being told "to increase and multiply and replenish the earth." Now for the imagination, to forecast results.
If the creatures fulfill this command, (and they do, diligently) the earth presently becomes replenished to a degree apparently unforeseen; unless, indeed, this law of mutual destruction be specially provided to meet that difficulty.