* *

I recall very distinctly the time when it was first revealed to me
that things suffered. It happened when I was three years old. In my
native hamlet a little boy, while playing, fell on a piece of broken
glass, and died of the wound.

A few days later I went to the child's home. His mother was crying
in the kitchen. On the mantelpiece stood a poor little toy. I recall
perfectly that it was a small tin or leaden horse, attached to a
little tin barrel on wheels.

His mother said to me: "That is my poor little Louis's wagon. He is
dead. Would you like to have it?"

Then a flood of tenderness filled my heart. I felt that this _thing_
had lost its friend, its master, and that it was suffering. I accepted
the plaything, and overcome with pity I sobbed as I carried it home.
I recall very well that I was too young to realize either the death of
the little boy or the sorrow of his mother. I pitied only that leaden
animal which seemed heart-broken to me as it stood on the mantelpiece
forever idle and bereaved of the master it loved. I remember all this
as if it had happened yesterday, and I am sure that I had no desire
to possess this toy for my own amusement. This is absolutely true, for
when I came home, with my eyes full of tears, I confided the little
horse and barrel to my mother. She has forgotten the whole incident.

The belief that things are endowed with life exists among children,
animals, and simple people.

I have seen children attribute the characteristics of a living being
to a piece of rough wood or to a stone. They brought it handfuls of
grass, and were absolutely sure that the wood or stone had eaten it
when, as a matter of fact, I had carried it off without their noticing
it.

Animals do not differentiate the quality of an action. I have seen
cats scratch at something too hot for them for a long time. In this
act on the part of the animal there is an idea of fighting something
which can yield or perhaps die.

I think it is only an education, born of false vanity, that has robbed
man of such beliefs. I myself see no essential difference between the
thought of a child who gives food to a piece of wood and the meaning
of some of the libations in primitive religions. Do we not attribute
to trees an attachment to us stronger than life itself when we believe
that one planted on the birthday of a child that sickens and dies will
wither and dry up at the same time?

I have known things in pain. I