OSIS?

You do not imitate the unfamiliar; you do not counterfeit a thing of
which you know nothing: that is obvious. The simulation of death,
therefore, implies a certain knowledge of death.

Well, has the insect, or rather, has any kind of animal, a
presentiment that its life cannot last for ever? Does the perturbing
problem of an end occur to its dense brain? I have associated a great
deal with animals, I have lived on intimate terms with them and I have
never observed anything to justify me in saying yes. The animal, with
its humbler destiny, is spared that apprehension of the hour of death
which constitutes at once our torment and our greatness.

Like the child still in the limbo of unconsciousness, it enjoys the
present without taking thought of the future; free from the bitterness
of a prospective ending, it lives in the blissful calm of ignorance.
It is ours alone to foresee the briefness of our days; it is ours
alone anxiously to question the grave regarding the last sleep.

Moreover, this glimpse of the inevitable destruction calls for a
certain maturity of mind and, for that reason, is rather late in
developing. I had a touching example of it this very week.

A pretty little Kitten, the joy of all the household, after languidly
dragging itself about for a couple of days, died in the night. Next
morning the children found it lying stark in its basket. General
affliction. Anna, especially, a little girl of four, considered with a
pensive glance the little friend with which she had so often played.
She petted it, called it, offered it a drop of milk in a cup:

"Kitty won't play," said the child. "She doesn't want my breakfast any
more. She's asleep. I've never seen her sleep like this before. When
will she wake up?"

This simplicity in the presence of death's harsh problem wrung my
heart. Hastily I led the girl away from the sight and had the dead
Kitten secretly buried. As, from this time onward, it no longer
appeared by the table at meal-times, the grief-stricken child at last
understood that she had seen her little friend sleeping the profound
slumber that knows no awaking. For the first time a vague idea of
death found its way into her mind.

Has the insect the signal honour of knowing what we do not know in our
early childhood, at a time when thought is already manifesting itself,
far superior, however feeble it be, to the dull understanding of the
animal? Has it the power to foresee an ending, an