This is, in fact, corroborated by the way in which most men converse;
where their thoughts are found to be chopped up fine, like chaff, so
that for them to spin out a discourse of any length is impossible.
If this world were peopled by really thinking beings, it could not be
that noise of every kind would be allowed such generous limits, as is
the case with the most horrible and at the same time aimless form of
it.[1] If Nature had meant man to think, she would not have given him
ears; or, at any rate, she would have furnished them with airtight
flaps, such as are the enviable possession of the bat. But, in truth,
man is a poor animal like the rest, and his powers are meant only to
maintain him in the struggle for existence; so he must need keep his
ears always open, to announce of themselves, by night as by day, the
approach of the pursuer.
[Footnote 1: _Translator's Note_.--Schopenhauer refers to the cracking
of whips. See the Essay _On Noise_ in _Studies in Pessimism_.]
In the drama, which is the most perfect reflection of human existence,
there are three stages in the presentation of the subject, with a
corresponding variety in the design and scope of the piece.
At the first, which is also the most common, stage, the drama is
never anything more than merely _interesting_.
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