, as Leibnitz supposed, and that they form
only perceptual inferences, not judgments from experience. But it is not
easy to see that this contributes anything of importance to our problem.
It does not even help us in regard to the interesting question of a
physical guarantee for the indestructibility of the soul. For even if the
psychical acts of animals were fewer and less important than they are
admitted to be, they have certainly sensations, images, feelings,
pleasure, pain, and desire. All these are of a psychical nature,
immaterial, and underivable from the material. And it is difficult to see,
for instance, why the forming of judgments should be regarded as more
durable and indestructible than sensation and desire. The difference lies
higher than this,--not in the fact that man has a few "capacities" more
than the animal, but in the difference in principle, that the psychical in
man can be developed to spirit, and that this is impossible anywhere else.
The very example that naturalism loves to cite in its own favour makes its
error clear. It asks whether the difference, let us say, between a Fuegian
and one of the higher mammals such as an ape, is not much less than that
between a Fuegian and a European. This sounds obvious, if we measure
simply by habits, morals, and possibly also the content of feeling and
imagination in a "savage" as we find him. And yet it is obviously false. I
can _train_ a young ape or an elephant, can teach it to open wine-bottles
and perform tricks. But I can _educate_ the child of the savage, can
develop in him a mental life equal in fineness, depth, and energy,
frequently more than equal, to that of the average European, as the
mission to the Eskimos and to the Fuegians proves, and as Darwin frankly
admitted. Psychical capacity is nothing more than raw material. It is in
the possibility of raising this to the level of spirit, of using the raw
material to its purpose, that the absolute difference, the impassable gulf
between man and animals lies.

Even in animals there is a primitive thinking, rising above the level of
blind instinct. But it can neither be schooled, nor is it capable of
developing even the crudest beginnings of science. Even the animal has a
sensory satisfaction in colour, form and tone (not nearly so much,
however, as the theory of sexual selection requires us to suppose). But
art, even the most rudimentary self-expression of the spirit upon this
basis, is wholly sealed t