And yet again it is hardly possible that any training or want of training should have produced a heart so utterly incapable of feeling for others as was his.

He could not even feel his own misfortunes unless they touched the outward comforts of the moment.

It seemed that he lacked sufficient imagination to realise future misery though the futurity to be considered was divided from the present but by a single month, a single week,--but by a single night.

He liked to be kindly treated, to be praised and petted, to be well fed and caressed; and they who so treated him were his chosen friends.

He had in this the instincts of a horse, not approaching the higher sympathies of a dog.
But it cannot be said of him that he had ever loved any one to the extent of denying himself a moment's gratification on that loved one's behalf.