Everywhere we turn we find evidence that the "civilization," so-called, of higher peoples is a made-over something, and that the antecedent thing fro… - J. Howard Moore

Sympathy, consciousness of kind, means simply the realization or the conscious recognition by living beings of the kinship of content. A human being unconscious of kind, an unsympathetic and inhuman person, is one who is likely to assume that his conscious states are sui generis, that they are more precious and intense than, and intrinsically different from, those of others—one who realizes that an injured sensory is a savage thing in his own organism, but who does not suppose it to be anything of the kind when it hangs to the brain of a Hottentot or a horse. Why do the human rich treat the human poor with such inconsideration? Why do they allow or compel them to remain disinherited and crushed while they themselves loll in superfluous wealth? Because there is Inadequate consciousness of kind.

If we would return to the shaggy condition of primitive ages, we need only acquire an environment which will favor from age to age those whose peripheries retain to the intensest extent the hirsute tendency. If the disparities between the sexual tastes of male and female would be leveled or inverted, the conditions which have caused the existing disparity must be reversed. The horse exposed to a fad for dwarfs would, in the course of ages, the length of time depending on the pitch of discrimination, be dwindled to its fox-like proportions of eocene times. In an environment requiring courage, foxes would either disappear or grow heroic. Serpents could be rendered as loving as doves by a procedure no more laborious than that by which they have been made vindictive. And beardless aesthetes may become philosophers as easily as have men.

Sometimes, in our littleness, we boast of the progress we have made, and of the knowledge, culture, and art which we as a race to-day display. But, O, it is the vanity of Adolescence. What will the knowledge, culture, and art of to-day amount to fifty or a hundred thousand years from now?—or a million years from now? Nothing! This sphere, with its clinging tenantry, will still be here then and will still be making its annual journeys round the sun, as now. But, O, what mighty and ineffable changes! The things of to-day will be so rude and childish and so far away that they will not even be considered.