The Humanizing of the Brute OR The Essential Difference between the Human and Animal Sowl proved from their Specific Activities BY H. MUCKERMANN, S. T. WITH FIVE PLATES St. Louis, Mo., and Freiburg, (Baden) Published by B. HERDER 1906 NIHIL OBSTAT. S. Ludovici, die 4. Sept. 1906. IMPRIMATUR. S. Ludovici, die 6. Sept. 1906. JOANNES J. GLENNON, Archiepiscopus Sti. Ludovici. To THE REV. ERIC W ASM ANN, S.J., this little volume is gratefully dedicated. "Und was man tst, das blitb man andern schuldig." Goethe. CONTENTS. Chapter i. The Humanizing of the Brute PART I. Instinct and Intelligence differ essentially. Chapter n. Instinct and Final Tendency . Chapter in. Instinct and Consciousness of Finality .... Chapter iv. Instinct and Sensuous Cogni- tion Chapter v. Instinct and Sense-Experience Chapter vi. Instinct and Intelligence . PART II. Animals have no Intelligence. Chapter vn. The "Intelligence" of "The Lower Animals" Chapter vni. The "Intelligence" of "The Higher Animals" CONCLUSION NOTE: — The author is indebted to the Rev. Fr. John J. Wynne, S. J., Editor of the Messenger, and to the Editor of the Scientific American for their kind permission to make use of several papers which origi- nally appeared in their periodicals. CHAPTER I. The Humanizing of the Brute. T T is a well-known fact that in the homes of the "upper ten thousand" special servants in charge of animal pets play an important part. It is the in- teresting duty of these favored mortals to rouse the lovely poodles, pugs, and pussies from pleasant slum- bers, to attend to their toilet and attire, to take them out for a drive on bright and sunny days, or lead them a-promenading down a cool and shady avenue, and, last not least, to dance humble attendance upon their charges when feasting at a lordly and luxurious table. Houses of refuge and asylums for orphaned cats have been erected at Berlin, and it was reported from Paris that at the time of the last exposition a cemetery for dogs, cats, birds, and other domestic animals had been opened. This city of the dead, with its resplendent monuments in honor of the noble departed, is said to rival a fairy-palace in beauty. Indeed, as J. G. Hol- land expresses his sentiments in very pathetic terms to his "dear dog Blanco:" "I look into your great, brown eyes, Where love and loyal homage shine, And wonder where the difference lies Between your soul and mine (7) 8 THE HUMANIZING OF THE BRUTE. I clasp your head upon my breast — The while you whine and lick my hand — And thus our friendship is confessed And thus we understand. Ah, Blanco! Did I worship God As truly as you worship me, Or follow where my Master trod With your humility: Did I sit fondly at his feet As you dear Blanco sit at mine, And watch him with a love as sweet, My life would grow divine." These few but telling facts furnish a striking illus- tration of the senseless mania of regarding the animal as a brother of man, his equal in nature aud essence. Indeed, the intelligence of animals is almost universally defended by modern naturalists. Some of them, as Buechner, Eimer, Marshall, and a host of others, whom Prof. W. M. Wheeler justly styles "popular- izers," ascribe even to animals as low as ants a high degree of mental activity, in some respects superior to that of man. Others, as A. Bethe and Uexkuell, maintain that only the higher animals, such as dogs, are endowed with intelligence, whilst the lower ones, as for instance insects, are mere reflex machines, desti- tute of all psychic qualities. Others, finally, as Em- ery, Forel, Morgan, Romanes, Peckham and so forth, attribute intelligence to all animals without exception, but add that this intelligence, though not differing in quality from that of man, is infinitely inferior to it in de~ gree. Only a few, such as Wasmann and Wundt, are convinced that there is no trace of true intelligence, either in the lower or in the higher animals. Prof. Wheeler seems to hold that there is no evidence of THE HUMANIZING OF THE BRUTE. 9 ratiocination in animals. It is true, he ascribes what he calls "simple intelligence" to animals, and main- tains that this term implies "choice on the part of the individual organism." *) But his term "choice" can hardly mean choice in as far as it supposes the abstract comparison of two objects. For he declares with reference to ants ' 'that there are no evidences of anything resembling abstract thought, cognition or ratiocination as manifested in man." 2) Prof. Ed- ward L,. Thorndike of Columbia University is a de- cided adversary of animal intelligence. After a most careful examination of the question, he "failed to find any act that even seemed due to reasoning, " 3 ) and that "even after leaving reason out of account, there are tremendous differences between man and the higher animals." 4) But abstracting from such few authors the late zoo- logist Prof. A. S. Packard is correct when he states: "Those naturalists who observe most closely (?) and patiently the habits of animals do not hesitate to state their belief that animals, and some more than others, possess reasoning powers which differ in degree rather l~) "The Compound and Mixed Nests of American Ants," The American Naturalist, Vol. XXXV. (1901), p. 809. 2) I.e., p. 813. 3) "Animal Intelligence; an Experimental Study of the Associative Processes in Animals." Series of Monograph Supplements to Psychological Review Vol. II., No. 4, June, 1898, p. 46. 4) 1. c., p. 87. Thorndike, at times, speaks of animals as if he ascribed intelligence to them. But, in reality, he means nothing else than what we would call "plastic instinct." 10 THE HUMANIZING OF THE BRUTE. than in kind from the purely intellectual acts of man." J) Now upon investigation into the cause underlying this erroneous principle we might, as far as the more popular circles are concerned, discover one reason in the nervous sentimentalism of our days. At the be- ginning of the twentieth century, no less than towards the end of the eighteenth, people have become ex- tremely sensitive to any sort of pain. Pain like a haunting spectre is dreaded with the utmost anxiety and avoided even to a nicety; and since the human heart is inclined to find some correspondence between external circumstances and its own apprehensions and emotions, it kindles in sympathy wherever pain is no- ticed, whether real or imaginary. This inclina- tion will grow stronger as soon as there is question of animated beings that are attached to man and afford him sensuous pleasure, and leave upon him the im- pression of a certain helplessness. Of course, as is attested by daily experience, one of the first and fore- most places among such cherished creatures must be assigned to the animals known as our "domestic com- panions." Besides there exists a certain analogy be- tween the manifestations of pain in man and in the brute, between the expression of man's spiritual affec- tions and the corresponding merely sensuous feelings indicated in the features of animals. Thus it hap- pens that from the expression visible in the eye of a faithful dog the inference is drawn, not to an empty stomach, but rather to a heart oppressed by sorrow •)A. S. Packard, M. D. Ph. D., Zoology (10th ed.) p. 680. THE HUMANIZING OF THE BRUTE. 11 and even weariness of life. In other words, it is from sheer sentimentality that the spiritual affections prop- er to man alone are under similar circumstances attributed to animals; hence it follows that a genuine consciousness of pain, presupposing reason and intel- lect, is ascribed to them. "Human folk," says Thorndike in his admirable monograph on animal intelligence, "are as a matter of fact eager to find intelligence in animals. They like to. And when the animal observed is a pet belonging to them or their friends, or when the story is one that has been told as a story to entertain, further implica- tions are introduced. " l ) A second reason for this universal anthropomor- phism is touched upon by Peckham when he speaks "of the futility of any attempt to understand the meaning of the actions of animals until one has be- come well acquainted with their life habits. " 2) Many animal actions, to all appearances, bear such traces of intelligence that they are almost involuntarily attri- buted to an intellectual principle. A more careful examination and comparison with other actions of the same animal will soon convince us of our error. "Thousands of cats on thousands of occasions, sit helplessly yowling, and no one takes thought of it; but let one cat claw at the knob of a door, supposedly as asignal to be let out, and straightway this cat becomes the representative of the cat-mind in all the books. ') Thorndike, 1. c., p. 4. 2) G. W. Peckham and E. G. Peckham. Oil the Instincts and Habits of the Solitary Wasps, Madison, 1898, p. 230. 12 THE HUMANIZING OF THE BRUTE. The unconscious distortion of the facts is almost harm- less compared to the unconcious neglect of an animal's mental life until it verges on the unusual and marvel- lous."1) The defective philosophical training and superficial education, so prevalent in our times, suggest a third reason for this mania of ascribing intelligence to ani- mals. Ever since the destructive attempts of Kant and his disciples to shake and shatter the realms of ideas, the true object of philosophy is ignored and lost. The noble queen, the exalted offspring of etern- al wisdom, has been stripped of her royal dignity; and while ruthless hands have snatched the crown from off her head, she has "been degraded to be the cringing handmaid of experimental science. And what was the unavoidable result? That very soon the principles of the old and sound philosophy fell into contempt, whilst in their stead there rose a confus- ion and obscurity of ideas which oftentimes led to the defense of most obvious errors permeating certain branches of science. Thus our modern psychology, as upheld by many of its advocates, is a veritable monstro- sity. Wundt can not refrain from blaming mod- ern psychology for its "premature application of no- tions insufficiently determined" and for its "ignor- ance of systematic psychological methods. ' ' Thus he explains the fact "that the psychic processes of brutes are not taken for what they appear in imme- diate and unprejudiced observation, but that the ob- server's reflections are transferred to the animal. If any vital action has the appearance of possibly 1 ) Thorndike, 1. c. p. 4. THE HUMANIZING OF THE BRUTE. 13 being the result of a number of reasonings and conclusions, this is taken as a cogent proof that such reasoning and conclusion actually occurred. And thus all the psychic activity is resolved into logical reflections. " x ) The above mentioned reasons, however, do not offer us the final and fundamental explanation for the persistent tendency of assigning a difference between man and animal, not of kind but of degree. The assumption of animal intelligence, as every other error, is essentially rooted in the will. It does not require much depth or breadth of intellect to see that the humanizing of the brute is a mere corollary of materialistic evolution. Materialism denies the existence of a vital principle apart from matter, and maintains that life is merely the resultant of attracting and repelling forces. Everything, therefore, is pure matter, and there can be no essential difference be- tween the animal soul and that of man, since neither can exist independently of matter. But if there is no essential difference between the animating principles of man and brute, why assume any between the facul- ties and manifestations of these principles? In other words, if human actions are guided by intelligence, the same holds true for those of animals. It follows that the theory of animal intel- ligence is the natural outcome of materialism, and as such must be traced back to the same source from which materialism ultimately springs. To speak plainly, the first promulgators of "animal intelligence" 1 ) W. Wundt, Vorlesungen ueber die Menschen=und Tierseele, 3. ed, 1897, p. 387. 14 THE HUMANIZING OF THE BRUTE. and those "popularizers," as Wheeler justly calls them, who now uphold it with such tendentious tenac- ity often seem to have no other purpose in view than to establish a theoretical justification for des- cending practically to a level with the brute. These reasons we believe clearly prove the deplor- able character of this modern tendency which aims at leveling the difference between animal and man, a tendency which, because of its universality and the warm support it receives, calls for most strenuous opposition. It is our intention to contribute in some small share to the controversy, and to prove in a simple and clear manner the essential difference which has ever been upheld by Catholic philosophy with reference to the souls of man and brute. Man and brute belong to two different realms of life, separated by a spanless chasm. This is the thesis we propose to the consid- eration of the reader, and in order to demonstrate it, we shall confine ourselves to the specific activities of man and brute, basing our entire argumentation on the following simple syllogism: True instinct and intelligence * ) differ essentially. Now the brute possesses merely instinct and no trace of intelligence. Therefore man and brute differ essentially. In the first part of the essay we shall develop the concept of instinct, then explain the true *) That is "rational intelligence." To avoid misunder- standings we may note here that by the term intelligence, we always mean intelligence in its proper signification, that is rational intelligence. THE HUMANIZING OF THE BRUTE. 15 criterion which invariably separates instinct and in- telligence, and prove that this criterion involves an essential difference. In the second part -we shall make use of the criterion established and prove that there is no trace of intelligence in animals. PART I. INSTINCT AND INTELLIGENCE DIFFER ESSEN. TIALLY. CHAPTER II. Instinct and Final Tendency. 'THE views of scientific men on the nature of instinct and instinctive activity are so widely divergent that any endeavor of securing general acceptance for a pre- cise definition of the terms seems to be a hopeless task. Still it is necessary to make the attempt; for without clear definitions and premises it is impossible to treat a question fairly or to arrive at clear conclusions. The clear sky lies beyond the clouds and the haze of the atmosphere. What, then, do we understand by in- stinct? Sense experience or well observed facts, and not preconceived ideas, are to furnish the necessary data from which we determine the characteristics act- ually common to all instinctive activity. But in appealing to facts and common sense it is well to re- main on neutral ground; we shall restrict our present investigation to actions that are not and cannot be modified by any experience and are acknowledged alike by friend and foe to belong to the category ot instinctive activity. In this supposition we shall show first of all that all actions proceeding from in- stinct necessarily involve a final tendency. (16) INSTINCT AND FINAL TENDENCY. 17 It is obvious that the influence of "purpose," or a final tendency, is met with everywhere in the universe. The recognition of this truth is forcibly brought home to us by the study of the laws of inorganic matter in the wonderful cycle of carbon in the realm of nature, the numeric proportions according to which atoms com- bine and separate, the peculiar quality of water in reaching its maximum density at 4° C. It is clearly demonstrated by the laws of organic life in general, and especially by the study of the human body, its organs and functions, the eye, the heart, the circulation of the blood, the activity of brain and nerves. But nowhere is the recognition of final tendency demanded more emphatically than in the explanation of the act- ivity of animals which originates in their instinctive faculties. Indeed, we meet with so many actions ap- propriate to specific ends that, if anywhere in nature, then surely in the domain of instinct, "final tendency' ' holds the sceptre of sovereignty. Countless illustrations offered by natural history show that the tendency, which is characteristic of all instinctive activity, refers to the preservation of the individual animal and of its distinctive species. Con- sequently, there are three principal groups of instinc- tive actions: those which refer to the nutrition of the individual, those which tend to its defence, and those which are directed toward the propagation of the species. As it is impossible to investigate every instinctive action in detail, we shall con- fine our study to these three groups, and we shall find abundant evidence to prove that "final tendency" is an essential constituent of every activity that is acknowledged to belong to the realm of instinct. 18 THE HUMANIZING OF THE BRUTE. In studying the first group of instinctive actions, those by which animals nourish themselves and their progeny, we are struck by two main facts: the peculiar fitness of the nourishment for the digestive organs of the animal and the appropriate manner in which it is procured. I^et us take as an example the develop- ment of the beetle Sitaris humeralis (muralis), which has been so admirably described by the French natur- alist Fabre. x) In its first larval stage this interesting blister-beetle of the family of the Meloidae cannot live except on the egg of a bee, whereas the indispensable food of the second stage is honey , which would have been virulent poison to the beetle in its earliest exist- ence. The following organs are at the disposal of our beetle to secure possession of the egg: six strong legs, well adapted for climbing and clinging to other objects, fully developed mandibles and feelers, and finally good eyes. But after the transformation of the first larval stage into the second, the wormlike grub is blind and has almost lost its legs and feelers, but is endowed with a large mouth admirably adapted for sipping the honey which is necessary for its subsistence in this second stage of development. The spot where Sitaris first beholds the light of day is near the entrance of the bee's habitation. The larva is hatched toward the end of September or early in October, and remains quietly on the same spot throughout the winter with- out any food until the bee leaves its home in early spring. Then the moment for action has arrived, and it is highly interesting to observe how our beetle pro- cures its suitable nourishment in the most appropriate manner. ') J. H. Fabre, Nouveaux Souvenirs Entomologiqnes, Paris, 1882, Vol. II., p. 262. INSTINCT AND FINAL TENDENCY. 19 When the male-bees are about to leave the nest they must necessarily pass the spot where our little larva has patiently lurked, as it were, for six months. It seems to have anticipated this fact, and when the bee unsuspectingly approaches the entrance of the nest, the larva vaults with the greatest ease on the bee's back, and off it goes on an interesting journey through the beautiful realm of new-born spring. But at once it is confronted by a new difficulty; for it will never succeed in finding an egg on the back of the male-bee, especially as the latter never returns to the nest. Yet our little rider knows very well what to do. At the moment when the male-bee on his journey meets the female, the larva swaps horses, and having returned to the nest on the back of the female, slides along the drawn out abdomen directly onto the first egg she deposits in the carefully prepared cell. With the usual signs of satisfaction, the bee then closes the cell, in which the embryo bee and the bold intruder have been immured, and the larva can now consume the egg without fear of disturbance. Resting on the floating island of "eggshells," it passes into the sec- ond stage and then enjoys the sweet honey in per- fect security from all danger for the following stages of its extraordinary metamorphosis. Not less remarkable are those instinctive actions of animals by which they provide for their defence and propagation. But these actions must not be separated from the circumstances which influence their perfor- mance. Indeed, if these circumstances were always taken into consideration, no one would dare affirm that instinctive actions of animals are inappropriate in 20 THK HUMANIZING OF THB BRUTE. their nature, though sometimes for the sake of a high- er end they may fall short of their immediate purpose. A classical example admirably adapted to illustrate the point at issue is the life-history of the famous leaf-roller Rhynchites betulse L. ; for in constructing the cradle for its young this tiny black snout-beetle has for ages been carrying out a problem which, at least in its entirety, was not known to man before the year 1673, when the great mathematical genius, Huy- gens, published his celebrated "Horologium Oscilla- torium. ' ' L,et us give a brief account of the famous beetle and its problem, basing our remarks on the investiga- tions and writings of Debay l ) and of Wasmann a ) and upon observations made by ourselves many years ago in Holland. In early spring, as soon as the Rh, betula 3) has emerged from the ground, it climbs up a birch-tree, where, after mating, the female at once proceeds to con- struct from the pliant young birch leaves a little house for her offspring. Carefully examining the edge of a leaf, the beetle suddenly stops and begins to cut the out- lines of what is to be the cradle for its little ones. It starts at the upper margin of one side of the leaf. Directing its head toward the upper part of the central rib, it cuts with its admirably adapted mandibles an S-shaped curve, whose terminal touches the leaf's 1 ) Dr. Debay, Beitraege zur Entwicklungsgeschichte der Ruesselkaefer aus der Familie der Attelabiden, Bonn, 1846. J) Erich Wasmann, S. J., Der Trichterwickler, Muenster, 1884. The following account was first published in the Scientific American, April, 1901. 3) From betula, birch-tree. INSTINCT AND FINAL TENDENCY. 21 central rib. Then, after having made a slight incision into the main nerve of the leaf, in order to impair the flow of the sap, it cuts across the other half of the leaf a corresponding but more horizontal curve which terminates a little higher on the central rib. After repassing the line of the entire cut to trim the edges and to cut through some nerves still connected, it once more stations itself at the starting-point of the whole operation. With the claws of its legs, whose femurs are powerful levers, it next grasps the edge of the leaf, and walking now downward, now to the middle, it rolls up in less than two minutes one- half of the leaf into a sort of funnel, opening down- ward. After a short repast, which very prudently is taken from parts close to the main ribs, our little worker hastens to roll up the other side of the leaf around the funnel just formed, in which operation it uses its legs in a manner just the reverse of the former. Now, after 30 minutes' work, the main prepara- tions have been completed for depositing the eggs. The beetle crawls into the funnel's interior, cuts out three or four little pockets and introduces an egg into each. After this has been done, nothing remains but to close the precious chamber as firmly as possible. To ac- complish this, it walks first to the upper end of the funnel and pierces the different layers of the leaf in such a way as to make them adhere to each other. Then it returns to the lower end of the leaf, and grasp- ing its apex, forms a second funnel, with its opening directed upward and fitting exactly into the larger one (Plate I., fig. 1). In doing all this our little architect, otherwise of so 22 THE HUMANIZING OF THE BRUTE. timid a nature, exhibits such an interest and fervor that, as I myself more than once have observed, it does not desist from its ingenious work once begun, even though taken into the observer's hand. Now in what does the real problem of the beetle consist, and what has it to do with the conservation of its species? Unrolling the leaf and spreading it on a plain sur- face (Fig 2), we shall find that the exterior margin of the leaf and the S-curve cut by the beetle are in the same relation to each other as the two curves of higher mathematics, the involute and evolute, i. e., v w, t u, r s, p g, I m are almost perpendicular to the exterior margin w u s q m, and are equal to the corresponding curves v y g, t y g, r y g, p y g, lyg, respectively. In other words, our little mathe- matician cuts its S-curve so that the length of the cut made and the distance from the exterior margin always remain the same. This problem coincides with the task of higher mathematics, from a given involute to con- struct the corresponding evolute, and consequently in- volves a most complicate combination of differential calculus and geometry. But to what kind of curve does the evolute of Rh. betula belong? As Prof. Heis first discovered, the evolute in this case is nothing else than an unfinished circle, which has its terminals in the joints g and y. According to the same authority, the more horizontal curve of the second half of the leaf is to be considered as a very appropiate flattening of the first curve, which has a more perpendicular position. For, since the broader exterior windings A, B, C> INSTINCT AND FINAL TENDENCY. PLATE No. I. OO i) I.e., p. 177. INSTINCT AND SENSE-EXPERIENCE. 57 is uncalled for. If, then, our wasp is wont to build its -house of loam in a hollow tree, this act is not de- termined by an innate representation of this or that tree, but by an instinctive faculty which enables the wasp, unconsciously, to combine with its impulse to build a nest the representation of any hollow tree. Otherwise we would have to assume that an immense "picture-gallery" of all possible kinds of hollow trees pre-existed in the soul and ganglion centres of the wasp. For these wasps do not restrict their nest-build- ing to trees of a special shape and form, but select any trees that seem fit for the purpose. It is evident that the wasp's action in selecting chimneys, where they are to be found, must be explained by the very same psychological laws which influence the se- lection of a hollow tree where no more convenient object is to be met with. For, if the wasp has the instinc- tive faculty of combining the sensuous perception of any appropriate object with the corresponding sensitive im- pulse, why should this faculty not suffice for selecting any other appropriate place instead of a tree? Indeed, the only difference between the two actions lies in this, that the perception of a chimney is more readily combined with the respective instinctive impulse than the perception of a hollow tree. Consequently, the wasp's second action, which is modified by sensuous experience, belongs equally to the domain of instinct, and the above-mentioned cri- terion does not express the real difference between in- stinctive and intelligent activity. 1) *) The following examples illustrate the same conclusion: Everybody admits that children instinctively shrink from a 58 THE HUMANIZING OF THE BRUTE. We may affirm this conclusion with still greater confidence, as almost all the examples brought for- ward by Mr. Peckham are similar to the one we have chosen Even when there is question of a whole series of sense perceptions which are associated with each other and modify the action of the animal, the criterion of the defenders of animal intelligence cannot be admitted, as instinct always implies the faculty of combining any sensuous perception unconsciously with its corresponding impulse. Hence it is an arbitrary assertion to maintain that this faculty does not suffice or that it loses its character, when there is question. of many sensitive perceptions or of those which arise in the sensitive memory of the animal. As long as we remain within the realm of merely sensuous cognition, there is no reason for calling upon a higher faculty. But, there is one example in Mr. Peckham's book which seems to be of a different nature from the one explained above. Let us shortly consider the inter- esting case. Peckham's description is as follows: red hot iron. But this manner of acting is due to experience. For, as we all know, children shrink from a glowing piece of iron only after having experienced the painful consequence of touching it on a former occasion. "A burnt child shuns the fire." Hence an action, though modified by experience, does not necessarily lose its instinctive character. Moreover, the above mentioned criterion eliminates from the realm of instinctive activity every action, from which the element of experience cannot be dissociated. As soon as a new-born pup begins to suck, ^.experiences the pleasant taste of its mother's milk, and its experience enters into and influences the con- tinuation of the action. Consequently, an instinctive action would cease to be instinctive, as soon as it commences. INSTINCT AND SENSE-EXPERIENCE. 59 "Just here must be told the story of one Httle wasp whose individuality stands out in our mind more dis- tinctly than that of any of the others. We remember her as the most fastidious and perfect little worker of the whole season, so nice was she in her adaptation of means to ends, so busy and contented in her labor of love, and so pretty in her pride over her completed work. In filling up her nest she put her head down into it and bit away the loose earth from the sides, letting it fall to the bottom of the burrow, and then, after a quantity had accumulated jammed it down with her head. Earth was then brought from the out- side and pressed in, and then more was bitten from the sides. When, at last, the filling was level with the ground, she brought a quantity of fine grains of dirt to the spot and picking up a small pebble in her mandibles, used it as a hammer in pounding them down with rapid strokes, thus making this spot as hard and firm as the surrounding surfaces (Plate II, Fig. 2) . Before we could recover from our astonish- ment at this performance she had dropped her stone and was bringing more earth. We then threw our- selves down on the ground that not a motion might be lost, and in a moment we saw her pick up the peb- ble and again pound the earth into place with it, hammering now here and now there until all was level. Once more the whole process was repeated, and then the little creature, all unconscious of the commotion that she had aroused in our minds, uncon- scious indeed of our very existence and intent only on doing her work and doing it well, gave one final, 60 THE HUMANIZING OF THE BRUTE. comprehensive glance around and flew away." *) We do not believe that Mr. Peckham's interpreta- tion of the facts is warranted by what he actually saw. The simple fact seems to be as follows: The pebble happened to be somewhat larger than the other ma- terial used in closing the nest. Anxious to fill up the burrow as perfectly as possible the wasp made a num- ber of attempts to press the pebble into the ground. But all was in vain. The wasp did not succeed in forcing the pebble into the ground, so that all would be perfectly level. Hence after repeated trials she abandoned the pebble altogether. The fact that the wasp took up a pebble somewhat larger than usual is not wonderful at all, since it often makes use of a pebble of considerable size to deposit it into the lower part of the newly made nest. Hence we are not dis- posed to accept Peckham's claim that the wasp "im- provised a tool and made intelligent use of it". We distinguish therefore two kinds of instinctive actions, both proceeding from the self-same sensuous cognition and appetency. But while the first group springs directly from the inherited dispositions of the agent's sensitive faculties, the second group implies a modification of the actions through sense-experience. We do not insist upon mere names; and if any one prefers to introduce another phrase for designating in- stinctive action modified by sense-experience, he may do so. But no matter what term he may choose, the word "intelligence" (that is rational intelligence) is out of place, unless of course the word is taken in a *) 1. c., p. 22-23. There is a second fact recorded by Mr. Williston, which is of a similar nature. INSTINCT AND SENSE-EXPERIENCE. 61 merely analogous sense. For that word conveys the idea that all actions modified by sense-experience nec- essarily imply consciousness of finality, which is posi- tively false. Prof. Wheeler says against Wasmann "that he has overshot the mark and attempted to in- clude too much in his conception of instinct." "I should continue, therefore," he adds, "to emphasize the difference between activities which are compelled by inherited mechanism and those which imply choice on the part of the individual organism. For the latter the term "intelligence" has been so very generally used that it seems both hopeless and idle to restrict it, as Wasmann so emphatically desires, to the ratiocina- tive process in its clearest manifestations. " x ) We do not deny that true choice supposes intelligence. But we do deny that instinctive actions modified by sense- experience necessarily imply choice. What is "choice?" The Standard dictionary answers "that power of the will by which one freely prefers and se- lects as an end of action some one good out of those presented to the mind. ' ' This definition is clear and to the point. It evidently supposes that the one who chooses compares two or more objects with each other and having understood the relation of them to himself freely selects the one and rejects the rest. Here is an illustration w7ell adapted for our purpose: On May 5th, 1905 we arranged an ant nest for I^asius interjectus consisting of two compartments connected by a small opening. Compartment No. 1 was dark, dry and with- out earth ; compartment No. 2 was light and contained earth. About 100 ants with some 40 young larvae l) 1. c., p. 809. 62 THE HUMANIZING OF THE BRUTE. were introduced into compartment No. 2. Within 15 minutes all had withdrawn into the dark compartment No. 1. On the following day the earth in compart- ment No. 2 was moistened. Soon the ants moved over from No. 1 into No. 2. But after some six hours the ants commenced with carrying over the moist earth from No. 2 into No. 1 which now was moist, dark and contained earth and thus was most comfortable. The action of the ants implies "choice" in as far as the one compartment is preferred to the other. But this is not "choice" in its proper meaning. The ants simply do and must do what they experience to be more agreeable to their senses. The concrete moist and dark compartment affects them more pleasantly than the other, and this concrete perception awakens the concrete desire to be in the more comfortable com- partment, which again is followed by the appropriate locomotion of certain organs. But there is no indica- tion of the ants becoming conscious of the abstract relation between the various conditiona of the two compartments to each other and to their own welfare. Nor is there any trace of a free determination upon some alternative. Choice implies logical thought and the power of abstraction. For without becoming conscious of the purpose of the action as such, without knowing and understanding why the one object is to be pre- ferred to another, a true and free choice is impossible. It is clear, therefore, that instinctive actions modified by sense-experience do not necessarily imply choice. Otherwise we would have to admit that the wasp mentioned above compares hollow trees and INSTINCT AND SENSE-EXPERIENCE. 63 chimneys and, having studied and understood at least some advantages afforded by either, freely decides to depart from the traditions of its race and select chimneys for its future nest. We need not repeat that such an assumption is unwarranted. The ' ' choice ' ' of the wasp is no real "choice." In fact, it implies no more "choice" than many an action preceeding from in- herited dispositions, such as distinguishing true food from poison and all indifferent material. The wasp "selects" a chimney, simply because it has the in- herited faculty at a suitable time to react appropriately upon a concrete sensitive impression made upon it by a concrete suitable object without becoming conscious of the appropriateness of the action. It is anything but sensitive cognition and appetency, and there is no reason for attributing it to a higher faculty of abstrac- tion and logical thought. We agree, therefore, with Prof. Wheeler when he calls choice a characteristic mark of intelligence, but we differ from him when he asserts that modification by sense-experience necessarily implies choice. Be- sides we believe Prof. Wheeler does not lay sufficient stress on the fact above demonstrated that instinctive activities even in as far as they proceed from an inherit- ed mechanism are directed by sensuous cognition and appetency and hence that they differ from merely re- flex actions which include no sensuous consciousness whatever. For Wheeler simply speaks of "actions compelled by inherited mechanism, ' ' a definition which is certainly incomplete and characteristic of reflex actions. We conclude, therefore, that Prof. Wheeler, 64 THE HUMANIZING OP THE BRUTE. as well as most modern naturalists, defend a con- cept of instinct which does not apply to instinct at all, but to intelligence and to reflex actions. Let us now proceed to define more accurately the true dis- tinction and criterion of discrimination between in- stinct and intelligence. CHAPTER VI. Instinct and Intelligence. "VW" HAT is the true criterion of distinction between instinct and intelligence? A brief exposition of the nature of an intelligent act will furnish an answer to this question. We may define intelligent, in opposition to instinctive, activity as one that is performed with perfect consciousness of its tendency, and is consequently guided by a purely spiritual faculty of cognition and appetite. The first part of this definition is self-evident, and sufficiently characterizes intelligent activity. Moreover, it is generally admitted. Thus Emery describes intelligence as the faculty of abstracting general ideas from the multiplex phantasms which have been acquired by experience, and of utilizing them in connection with sensuous images to perform actions which imply a conscious final tendency. And, strange as it may sound, all our opponents without exception, notwithstanding their own false criterion, endeavor to prove the intelligence of animals by ascribing to them a consciousness of final tendency. They do not commit the absurdity of denying the ne- cessity of this tendency for such actions as the plan- ning of houses, the framing of laws, the solution of mathematical problems and all purely intelligent act- ivity, but readily admit that this very consciousness (65) 66 THK HUMANIZING OK THE BRUTE. of finality raises these actions to the level of intelli- gence. It would, therefore, be a quixotic fight against wind-mills to prove that the essence of an in- telligent action demands the consciousness of its final- ity. No, the question at issue reaches much further. Wasmann lodges the complaint against Romanes, that he claims intelligence for all actions of animals that are based on sensuous experience, although he simultaneously acknowledges that intelligence con- sists in the power of drawing logical conclusions. Wheeler, too, as we have seen, makes "intelli- gence" dependent on manifestations of ''choice" and Peckham declares that intelligence is the power which "enables an insect to seek, accept, refuse, choose, — to decline to make use of this or to turn to account some other thing. " l ) But both Wheeler and Peckham maintain at the same time that modification in con- sequence of sense-experience renders instinctive ac- tions intelligent. It is this deplorable contradiction which touches the vital point in the argumentation of eve n the most moderate defenders of animal intelli- gence. They consider consciousness of purpose as inseparable from ///e utilization of experience; wherever there is sensuous]experience there is consciousness of purpose, and vice -versa. Their criterion states that every ac- tion is intelligent that is appropriately modified by any kind of experience; and still they insist on the con- sciousness of final tendency as the real essence of in- telligent activity. Hence in their view the appropriate modification of an action by experience and conscious- '; 1. c., p. 231. INSTINCT AND INTELLIGENCE. 67 ness of its finality are so intimately connected that the one necessarily presupposes the other. But this is the fundamental tenet of materialism and destroys the true nature of an intelligent act. Consciousness of piirpose is impossible without spiritual cognition. They are identical, and therefore our definition adds that an intelligent act is guided by a purely spiritual faculty of cognition and appetite. The whole question de- pends on the proof of this last inference. Let us open the argument with an illustration. We select that of the babe in the cradle. Its reason- ing faculty is still dormant. It is hungry and cries. Its mother puts a milk bottle into its hands. For a moment its desires are appeased. But soon the same scene has to be repeated, until finally the child finds the bottle of itself, when it feels the pangs of hunger. No one will dare to affirm that it has attained the use of reason, and yet no one can deny, that in conse- quence of repeated experience in some way or other the feeling of hunger and the milk-bottle are connect- ed in the child's perception. Otherwise it is impossi- ble to explain why the child constantly grasps the bot- tle when it is hungry. But who will maintain that the babe acts with consciousness of the finality of its action? Here is another example. When Rhynchites be- tulse feels the natural impulse to lay eggs, it in- variably prepares a funnel-shaped depository and lays its eggs in the folds of this artistic bed. It evi- dently perceives in some way a connection between the funnel and its impulse to lay eggs. Otherwise this beetle would neither prepare the funnel nor al- 68 THE HUMANIZING OP THE BRUTE. ways place its egg precisely in the requisite folds, but would at least, once in a while, deposit them else- where, on a more convenient spot. But, does this perception warrant the conclusion that R. betulae acts with consciousness of finality? Undoubtedly not. For an action that is guided by "purpose" and per- formed with "consciousness" demands far more than a me re combination of the phantasms of things which are related to each other as means and end. This very relation of end and -means must be clearly recognized as such. Or, as St. Thomas puts it: "The perfect knowledge of an end demands not only the perception of the object which constitutes that end, but its recog- nition as an end and its relation to the means used to attain it." But this evidently implies the formal cognition of finality, the clear perception of the ab- stract relation between means and end. When a man wants to enjoy his breakfast with consciousness of final- ity, it is not sufficient to combine in his imagination the concrete things before him and his concrete im- pulse to eat them, a combination which naturally pro- duces an agreeable feeling and calls forth an appro- piate exercise of the limbs towards the breakfast table, but he must understand the abstract relation between the savory beef-steak as the means and the satisfaction of his hunger as the end, and guided by this cognition he must eat his breakfast. Therefore, every action that is guided by "purpose' ' and directed by "consciousness of purpose" presup- poses as least requisite the cognition of means and end as such, of relations as such, and consequently implies universal ideas. Thus far few of our opponents will find INSTINCT AND INTELLIGENCE. 69 any difficulty in admitting our argument. But our way s separate , when we put the question : Is a sensitive power of cognition able to form general notions or not? To answer this question we must first of all inquire into the nature of a universal idea and investigate its main difference from a so-called common phantasm. When Clarke 1) calls the distinction between the abstract idea and the common phantasm of the imag- ination "the very touchstone of a philosophical sys- tem", he enunciates a truth that is of paramount im- portance in our present investigation. Everywhere in the writings of those who defend animal intelligence, abstract ideas and common phantasms are essentially alike or, at the most, described as different degrees of one and the same faculty of abstraction. Dr. Forel even calls a universal idea "a general sensory idea" "like the idea 'ant enemy"2); and L,add, who is one of the least offenders in most of his philosophical views, deplores the fact that "much confusion has always arisen in psychological discussion on account of the very natural use of the word 'idea' for both the con- crete sensuous image and the concept or product oi thought" 3). What, then, is a common phantasm? When, before sunrise, a fisherman unmoors his boat in the pleasant anticipation of a rich haul, his imagination is naturally enough occupied with the picture of a fine fish. In spite of the general resem- *) Richard F. Clarke, S.J., Logic, ed. 3., p. 123. 2) Ants and Some other Insects, (Religion of Science Library) No. 56, p. 22. 3) 1. c., p. 378. 70 THE HUMANIZING OF THE BRUTE. blance to the fishy tribe this imaginary fish is alto- gether void of any universality, and represents merely an individual fish. Let us try to eliminate the quali- ties in which it differs from other fish and bring out those which it has in common with them. Can this image now be called universal? Or must we not con- cede, that in spite of a great similarity with fish in general the image is still concrete and individual? It may be that the discriminating marks are less promi- nent, but the common marks of all fish, as form, color, fins, are still, as it were, in the foreground of our imagination. The image is and remains the represen- tation of an individual fish. We may make as many efforts as we like, as long as the fish remains a product of our imagination we can never deprive it of all definite shape and color, and of definite extension. "I can con- sider," says Berkeley, "the hand, the eye, the nose, each by itself abstracted and separated from the rest of the body. But, then, whatever hand or eye I -im- agine, it must have some particular shape and color' ' x ) . As long as the representation of an object possesses color and extension it is not universal. What infer- ence have we to make from this conclusion? It is this, that there are no real universal phantasms, and that the abstractive faculty of the imagination consists merely in the weaker or stronger representation of sensitive perceptions. The common phantasm, either as an act or the rep- resentation of an object, is and remains individual. Or, as Clarke has it: "The common phantasm is not really common at all. It is simply an individual l) Michael Maher, S.J., Psychology ed. 4., p. 236. INSTINCT AND INTELLIGENCE. 71 phantasm, rendered so vague and indistinct by the separation from it of its distinguishing characteristics that it will stand just as well, or just as badly, for one individual as another". x) The case is -very different with universal ideas. It is true, that they are so closely connected with com- mon phantasms that we are unable to form a universal idea without beginning with the perception of the senses and without being accompanied in our mental activity by phantasms of the imagination. Nor do we deny that the common phantasm by a kind of analog- ous universality bears some resemblance to the corres- ponding universal idea. Nevertheless, they are very different in their real nature. In what does this difference consist? As every one concedes, the propositions: "the angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles, the cow belongs to the vertebrates, man is mortal," in- volve universal ideas. For when pronouncing these truths we do not restrict them to any particular trian- gle or cow or man, but to all triangles, cows and men without exception and in the very same sense. Now, what must and what must not be attributed to these universal ideas, in as far as they are opposed to the corresponding common phantasms? To say nothing of less important distinctions, as the sharp and precise clearness of the idea and the vague obscurity of the common phantasm, the -main difference lies in the fact, that the universal idea is really and essentially universal and free from, any definite extension^ whilst the common phantasm, even when it is so "universal" ») Clarke, 1. c., p. 137. 72 THE HUMANIZING OF THE BRUTE. as almost to vanish from our imagination, still retains a definite extension , and remains essentially individual. The universal concept of a man or a triangle can be applied not only to a redskin or a negro, not only to this or that triangle, obtuse or equilateral, but to all men and all triangles without any exception, whilst the phantasm of a triangle even in the most extreme case can never be identified with any other triangle. It even disappears from our imagination, if we eliminate its sides of a definite length, its obtuse or acute angles. But the universal idea of a triangle is independent of all this. It can be identified with any existing or possible triangle, even if the latter be so large that its three vertices rest on three different fixed stars, or so small that we can perceive it only by means of a microscope, if its sides be green or blue, its angles obtuse or acute. These are merely casual differences, and do not affect its nature as a triangle. The universal idea expresses that which constitutes a being, denotes its essence, its nature, whilst the pic- ture in the imagination merely represents a being, colored in such and such a way, of this or that exten- sion. The color and extension of things, even of one and the same class, may be different; but the nature of things must be the same in all. A man deprived of his essence, of that which makes him what he is, would no longer be a man, and a triangle no longer a trian- gle. Still, we do not wish to say that the universal idea of human nature exists in the same way, that is, as universal, in every individual human being. That is the error of the ultra-realists. Every finite being that exists, or can be called into existence, is necessarily INSTINCT AND INTELLIGENCE. 73 individual and realizes the universal idea of that being in its own way. Every human being is a man, but never the same man. My own individual human na- ture is not identical with the individual human nature of anybody else. But we do want to say that every finite essence can be deprived of its individuality by ab- straction; that by this process we attain a universal idea, the so-called metaphysical essence of the Scholastics, which is one and the same, and can be predi- cated of every individual being belonging to that class. l