It is difficult for a man to form an idea of the Physical Consciousness of the lower animals and savages, particularly as he finds it difficult to understand his own consciousness except by the act of being conscious.  But observation and reason have given us a fair degree of understanding of what this Physical Consciousness of the animal is like—­or at least in what respect it differs from our own consciousness.  Let us take a favorite illustration.  A horse standing out in the cold sleet and rain undoubtedly feels the discomfort, and possibly pain, for we know by observation that animals feel both.  But he is not able to analyze his mental states and wonder when his master will come out to him—­think how cruel it is to keep him out of the warm stable—­wonder whether he will be taken out in the cold again tomorrow—­feel envious of other horses who are indoors—­wonder why he is compelled to be out cold nights, etc., etc.,—­in short, he does not think as would a reasoning man under such circumstances.  He is aware of the discomfort, just as would be the man—­and he would run home if he could just as would the man.  But he is not able to pity himself, nor to think about his personality as would the man, nor does he wonder whether such a life is worth living, after all.  He “knows,” but is not able to think of himself as knowing—­he does not “know that he knows,” as we do.  He experiences the physical pain and discomfort, but is spared the mental discomfort and concern arising from the physical, which man so often experiences.

The animal cannot shift its consciousness from the sensations of the outer world to the inner states of being.  It is not able to “know itself.”  The difference may be clumsily illustrated by the example of a man feeling, seeing or hearing something that gives him a pleasurable sensation, or the reverse.  He is conscious of the feeling or sensation, and that it is pleasurable or otherwise.  That is Physical Consciousness, and the animal may share it with him.  But it stops right there with the animal.  But the man may begin to wonder why the sensation is pleasurable and to associate it with other things and persons; or speculate why he dislikes it, what will follow, and so on—­that is Mental Consciousness, because he recognizes an inward self, and is turning his attention inward.  He may see another man and experience a feeling or sensation of attraction or aversion—­like or dislike.  This is Physical Consciousness, and an animal also may experience the sensation.  But the man goes further than the animal, and wonders just what there is about the man he likes or detests, and may compare himself to the man and wonder whether the latter feels as he does, and so on—­this is Mental Consciousness.

In animals the mental gaze is freely directed outward, and never returns upon itself.  In man the mental gaze may be directed inward, or may return inward after its outward journey.  The animal “knows”—­the man not only “knows,” but he “knows that he knows,” and is able to investigate that “knowing” and speculate about it.  We call this higher consciousness Mental Consciousness.  The operation of Physical Consciousness we call Instinct—­the operation of Mental Consciousness we call Reason.