high-strung. They would never have become as poised or as placid
as--say--super-cows. Yet they would have had less insanity, probably,
than we. Monkeys' (and elephants') minds seem precariously balanced,
unstable. The great cats are saner. They are intense, they would
have needed sanitariums: but fewer asylums. And their asylums would
have been not for weak-minded souls, but for furies.

They would have been strong at slander. They would have been far
more violent than we, in their hates, and they would have had fewer
friendships. Yet they might not have been any poorer in real
friendships than we. The real friendships among men are so rare
than when they occur they are famous. Friends as loyal as Damon
and Pythias were, are exceptions. Good fellowship is common, but
unchanging affection is not. We like those who like us, as a rule,
and dislike those who don't. Most of our ties have no better footing
than that; and those who have many such ties are called warm-hearted.


The super-cat-men would have rated cleanliness higher. Some of
us primates have learned to keep ourselves clean, but it's no
large proportion; and even the cleanest of us see no grandeur in
soap-manufacturing, and we don't look to manicures and plumbers for
social prestige. A feline race would have honored such occupations.
J. de Courcy Tiger would have felt that nothing /but/ making soap, or
being a plumber, was compatible with a high social position; and the
rich Vera Pantherbilt would have deigned to dine only with manicures.

None but the lowest dregs of such a race would have been lawyers
spending their span of life on this mysterious earth studying the
long dusty records of dead and gone quarrels. We simians naturally