Yes, that wretch, too, was a man and a brother--at least so books used to say.

Time was, when he had looked on a poacher as a Pariah 'hostem humani generis'-- and only deplored that the law forbade him to shoot them down, like cats and otters; but he had begun to change his mind.
He had learnt, and learnt rightly, the self-indulgence, the danger, the cruelty, of indiscriminate alms.

It looked well enough in theory, on paper.

'But--but--but,' thought Lancelot, 'in practice, one can't help feeling a little of that un-economic feeling called pity.

No doubt the fellow has committed an unpardonable sin in daring to come into the world when there was no call for him; one used to think, certainly, that children's opinions were not consulted on such points before they were born, and that therefore it might be hard to visit the sins of the fathers on the children, even though the labour-market were a little overstocked--"mais nous avons change tout cela," like M.Jourdain's doctors.