Intellects differ from one another in a very real and fundamental way:
but no comparison can well be made by merely general observations. It
is necessary to come close, and to go into details; for the difference
that exists cannot be seen from afar; and it is not easy to judge by
outward appearances, as in the several cases of education, leisure and
occupation. But even judging by these alone, it must be admitted that
many a man has _a degree of existence_ at least ten times as high as
another--in other words, exists ten times as much.
I am not speaking here of savages whose life is often only one degree
above that of the apes in their woods. Consider, for instance, a
porter in Naples or Venice (in the north of Europe solicitude for the
winter months makes people more thoughtful and therefore reflective);
look at the life he leads, from its beginning to its end:--driven by
poverty; living on his physical strength; meeting the needs of every
day, nay, of every hour, by hard work, great effort, constant tumult,
want in all its forms, no care for the morrow; his only comfort
rest after exhaustion; continuous quarreling; not a moment free for
reflection; such sensual delights as a mild climate and only just
sufficient food will permit of; and then, finally, as the metaphysical
element, the crass superstition of his church; the whole forming a
manner of life with only a low degree of consciousness, where a man
hustles, or rather is hustled, through his existence. This restless
and confused dream forms the life of how many millions!
Such men _think_ only just so much as is necessary to carry out their
will for the moment. They never reflect upon their life as a connected
whole, let alone, then, upon existence in general; to a certain extent
they may be said to exist without really knowing it. The existence of
the mobsman or the slave who lives on in this unthinking way, stands
very much nearer than ours to that of the brute, which is confined
entirely to the present moment; but, for that very reason, it has also
less of pain in it than ours. Nay, since all pleasure is in its nature
negative, that is to say, consists in freedom from some form of misery
or need, the constant and rapid interchange between setting about
something and getting it done, which is the permanent accompaniment of
the work they do, and then again the augmented form which this
takes when they go from work to rest and the satisfaction of their
needs--all this gives them a constant source of enjoyment; and the
fact that it is much commoner to see happy faces amongst the poor than
amongst the rich, is a sure proof that it is used to good advantage.
Passing from this kind of man, consider, next, the sober, sensible
merchant, who leads a life of speculation, thinks long over his plans
and carries them out with great care, founds a house, and provides for
his wife, his children and descendants; takes his share, too, in the
life of a community. It is obvious that a man like this has a much
higher degree of consciousness than the former, and so his existence
has a higher degree of reality.
Then look at the man of learning, who investigates, it may be, the
history of the past. He will have reached the point at which a man
becomes conscious of existence as a whole, sees beyond the period of
his own life, beyond his own personal interests, thinking over the
whole course of the world's history.
Then, finally, look at the poet or the philosopher, in whom reflection
has reached such a height, that, instead of being drawn on to
investigate any one particular phenomenon of existence, he stands in