as we think how little we differ from them, if they but knew it.
For at bottom we are not conscious of change from that morning, long
ago, when first we realized ourselves. We feel just as young now as
we felt old then. We are but amused at the world's discrimination
where we can detect no difference.

Every human being has been thus "twice born": once as matter, once
as mind. Nor is this second birth the birthright only of mankind.
All the higher animals probably, possibly even the lower too, have
experienced some such realization of individual identity. However
that may be, certainly to all races of men has come this revelation;
only the degree in which they have felt its force has differed
immensely. It is one thing to the apathetic, fatalistic Turk, and
quite another matter to an energetic, nervous American. Facts,
fancies, faiths, all show how wide is the variance in feelings.
With them no introspective [greek]cnzhi seauton overexcites the
consciousness of self. But with us; as with those of old possessed
of devils, it comes to startle and stays to distress. Too apt is it
to prove an ever-present, undesirable double. Too often does it
play the part of uninvited spectre at the feast, whose presence no
one save its unfortunate victim suspects. The haunting horror of
his own identity is to natures far less eccentric than Kenelm
Chillingly's only too common a curse. To this companionship,
paradoxical though it sound, is principally due the peculiar
loneliness of childhood. For nothing is so isolating as a
persistent idea which one dares not confide.

And yet,--stranger paradox still,--was there ever any one
willing to exchange his personality for another's? Who can imagine
foregoing his own self? Nay, do we not cling even to its outward