e same nature. It results from the dull, unmeaning gaze with which one
looks at things; the shiftless, slipshod way of doing work; the "don't
care" habit of mind which calls anything that happens to fall in its way
"good enough."

From all that is precious and beautiful and lovely the vulgar man is
hopelessly excluded. They are all around him; but he has no eyes to see,
no taste to appreciate, no heart to respond to them. "All things
excellent," so Spinoza tells us, "are as difficult as they are rare."
The vulgar man has no heart for difficulty; and hence the rare
excellence of art and beauty remain forever beyond his reach.

CHAPTER XIII.

Animals.

Animals stand midway between things and persons. We own them, use them,
kill them, even, for our own purposes. Yet they have feelings, impulses,
and affections in common with ourselves. In some respects they surpass
us. In strength, in speed, in keenness of scent, in fidelity, blind
instinct in the animal is often superior to reason in the man.

Yet the animal falls short of personality. It is conscious, but not
self-conscious. It knows; but it does not know that it knows. It can
perform astonishing feats of intelligence. But it cannot explain, even
to itself, the way in which it does them. The animal can pass from one
particular experience to another along lines of association in time and
space with marvelous directness and accuracy. To rise from a particular
experience to the universal class to which that experience belongs; and
then, from the known characteristics of the class, to deduce the
characteristics of another particular experience of the same kind, is
beyond the power of the brute.

The brute likewise has feelings; but it does not recognize these
feelings as parts of a total and permanent self. Pleasure and pain the
animal feels probably as keenly as we do. Of happiness or unhappiness
they probably know nothing.

They do not sweat and whine about their condition,
They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,
Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.

Animals can be trained to do right, but they cannot love righteousness.
They can be trained to avoid acts which are associated with painful
consequences, but they cannot hate iniquity. The life of an animal is a
series of sensations, impulses, thoughts, and actions. These are never
gathered up into unity. The animal is more than a machine, and less than
a p