he feline philosophies; for not simply how to know but
how to circumvent the universe would have been their desire. Mankind's
curiosity is disinterested; it seems purer by contrast. That is to say,
made as we are, it seems purer to us. What we call disinterested,
however, super-cats might call aimless. (Aimlessness is one of the
regular simian traits.)

I don't mean to be prejudiced in favor of the simian side. Curiosity
may be as debasing, I grant you, as craft. And craft might turn into
artifices of a kind which would be noble and fine. Just as the ignorant
and fitful curiosity of some little monkey is hardly to be compared to
the astronomer's magnificent search, so the craft and cunning we see in
our pussies would bear small relation to the high-minded planning of
some ruler of the race we are imagining.

And yet--craft _is_ self-defeating in the end. Transmute it into its
finest possible form, let it be as subtle and civilized as you please,
as yearning and noble, as enlightened, it still sets itself over
against the wholeness of things; its role is that of the part at war
with the whole. Milton's Lucifer had the mind of a fine super-cat.

That craft may defeat itself in the end, however, is not the real
point. That doesn't explain why the lions aren't ruling the planet. The
trouble is, it would defeat itself in the beginning. It would have too
bitterly stressed the struggle for existence. Conflict and struggle
make civilizations virile, but they do not by themselves make
civilizations. Mutual aid and support are needed for that. There the
felines are lacking. They do not co-operate well; they have small
group-devotion. Their lordliness, their strong self-regard, and their
coolness of heart, have somehow thwarted the chance of their racial
progress.

_SEVEN_

There are many other beasts that one might once have thought had a
chance.

Some, like horses and deer, were not bold enough; or were stupid, like
buffaloes.

Some had over-trustful characters, like the seals; or exploitable
characters, like cows, and chickens, and sheep. Such creatures sentence
themselves to be captives, by their lack of ambition.

Dogs? They have more spirit. But they have lost their chance of
kingship through worshipping us. The dog's finer qualities can't be
praised too warmly; there is a purity about his devotion which makes
mere men feel speechless: but with all love for dogs, one must grant
they are vassals, not rulers