self and of one's own sensations. But inasmuch as all thought is a disengagement from that, whatever it may be, which more obtrusively occupies the mind, and is thus a getting beyond and away from the particular, so, in the conception of self, I am not tied down to my own individual self: my conception extends beyond this, it embraces, in fact, the whole human race. It is not possible for me to think myself merely. In thinking myself, I think all other selves. Note here the very marked antithesis between feeling and thought. In feeling myself, I must feel only my particular self, and I cannot possibly feel others as well. In thinking myself, I cannot think only my particular self; I must of necessity think others as well. Thirdly, there is sympathy. This arises out of self-consciousness. The conception of myself being the conception of other selves as well as of me, not only enables, but compels me to take some interest, more or less, in them as well as in myself Thus sympathy has self-consciousness for its foundation. Self-consciousness is the condition of sympathy, and not only that; wherever self-consciousness is manifested, there some degree of sympathy must be put forth. In virtue of self-consciousness, sympathy is not only possible, it is also actual and imperative. Fourthly, there is society. This arises out of sympathy. Without a fellow-feeling, mutual goodwill, and a community of sentiment, society could not subsist for a day, social intercourse would be impossible; so that freedom of
