others.
The very turmoil of the streets has something repulsive, something against which human nature rebels.
The hundreds of thousands of all classes and ranks crowding past each other, are they not all human beings with the same qualities and powers, and with the same interest in being happy? And have they not, in the end, to seek happiness in the same way, by the same means?
And still they crowd by one another as though they had nothing in common, nothing to do with one another, and their only agreement is the tacit one, that each keep to his own side of the pavement, so as not to delay the opposing streams of the crowd, while it occurs to no man to honour another with so much as a glance.
The brutal indifference, the unfeeling isolation of each in his private interest becomes the more repellant and offensive, the more these individuals