^B mmMmsM ■ miffs '■• ■HI mm ■':; •'••■■ j i *■:■••■:'■;■■ '^ ■:■•">■■■• "; ;•'-'•••■■■•.-•'.■•■' : ■'•■•'•■■':::■■ :- ■■■■.;:■ -:= ••>■:>;•■''• -: , :•■ :;.-.'.':'■•■ :'!■}» WW.:r. TB Ml A ■:■ ^HHBI JbHHB UB "» ^&^ ^ o □ a CD — OB P = ""*" a -D g JZ N ft Js & . 7/ /» ON THE ORIGIN OF SPECIES BY MEANS OF NATURAL SELECTION ; or, The Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life; Fifth Edition {Tenth Thousand), with Additions and Corrections. 1869. Murray. THE VARIATION OF ANIMALS AND PLANTS UNDER DOMESTICATION. In two vols. With Illustrations. 1868. Murray. ON THE VARIOUS CONTRIVANCES by which BRITISH AND FOREIGN ORCHIDS ARE FERTILISED BY INSECTS ; and on the Good Effects of Crossing. With numerous Woodcuts. Murray. A NATURALIST'S VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD ; or, A Journal of Researches into the Natural History and Geology of the Countries visited during the voyage of H.M.S. ' Beagle,' under the command of Captain FitzRoy, R.N. Eleventh Thousand. Murray. ON THE STRUCTURE AND DISTRIBUTION OF CORAL REEFS. Smith, Elder, & Co. GEOLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS ON VOLCANIC ISLANDS. Smith, Elder, & Co. GEOLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS ON SOUTH AMERICA. Smith, Elder, & Co. A MONOGRAPH OF THE CIRRIPEDIA. With numerous Illustrations. 2 vols. 8vo. Hardwickb. ON THE MOVEMENTS AND HABITS OF CLIMBING PLANTS. With Woodcuts. Williams & Norgate. LONDON : PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET, AND CHARING CROSS. CONTENTS. Introduction Pa«;e 1-5 PART I. ^>\CA/ ON THE DESCENT OF MAN. /v> rtoS a, — ° — / rw ^ "^ < *"' CHAPTER I. , J L16R AR The Evidence of the Descent op man from Wfe\ ^k***'**' Lower Form. \ All the following statements, given on tlie authority of these two naturalists, are taken from Kengger's ' Naturges. der Saugethiere von Paraguay,' 1830, s. 41 -57, and from Brehm's ' Thierleben,' B. i. s. 10-87. ' 8 ' Bridgewater Treatise,' p. 263. Chap. II. MENTAL POWERS. 41 Africa. Orphan- monkeys were always adopted and careful] y guarded by the other monkeys, both males and females. One female baboon had so capacious a heart that she not only adopted young monkeys of other species, but stole young dogs and cats, which she continually carried about. Her kindness, however, did not go so far as to share her food with her adopted offspring, at which Brehm was surprised, as his monkeys always divided everything quite fairly with their own young ones. An adopted kitten scratched the above- mentioned affectionate baboon, who certainly had a fine intellect, for she was much astonished at being scratched, and immediately examined the kitten's feet, and without more ado bit off the claws. In the Zoological Gardens, 1 heard from the keeper that an old baboon (C. chacma) had adopted a Rhesus monkey ; but when a young drill and mandrill were placed in the cage, she seemed to perceive that these monkeys, though distinct species, were her nearer rela- tives, for she at once rejected the Rhesus and adopted both of them. The young Rhesus, as I saw, was greatly discontented at being thus rejected, and it would, like a naughty child, annoy and attack the young drill and mandrill whenever it could do so with safety; this conduct exciting great indignation in the old baboon. Monkeys will also, according to Brehm, defend their master when attacked by any one, as well as dogs to whom thev are attached, from the attacks of other dogs. But we here trench on the subject of sympathy, to which I shall recur. Some of Brehm 's monkeys took much delight in teasing, in various ingenious ways, a certain old dog whom they disliked, as well as other animals. Most of the more complex emotions are common to the higher animals and ourselves. Every one has seen 42 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. how jealous a dog is of his master's affection, if lavished on any other creature ; and I have observed the same fact with monkeys. This shews that animals not only love, but have the desire to be loved. Animals manifestly feel emulation. They love approbation or praise ; and a clog carrying a basket for his master exhibits in a high degree self-complacency or pride. There can, I think, be no doubt that a dog feels shame, as distinct from fear, and something very like modesty when begging too often for food. A great dog scorns the snarling of a little dog, and this may be called magnanimity. Several observers have stated that monkeys certainly dislike being laughed at; and they sometimes invent imaginary offences. In the Zoological Gardens I saw a baboon who always got into a furious rage when his keeper took out a letter or book and read it aloud to him ; and his rage was so violent that, as I witnessed on one occasion, he bit his own leg till the blood flowed. We will now turn to the more intellectual emotions and faculties, which are very important, as forming the basis for the development of the higher mental powers. Animals manifestly enjoy excitement and suffer from ennui, as may be seen with dogs, and, according to Rengger, with monkeys. All animals feel Wonder, and many exhibit Curiosity. They sometimes suffer from this latter quality, as when the hunter plays antics and thus attracts them ; I have witnessed this with deer, and so it is with the wary chamois, and with some kinds of wild-ducks. Brehm gives a curious account of the instinctive dread which his monkeys exhibited towards snakes ; but their curiosity was so great that they could not desist from occasionally satiating their horror in a most human fashion, by lifting up the lid of the box in which the snakes were kept. I was so much surprised at his account, that I took a stuffed and Chap. II. MENTAL POWERS. 43 coiled-up snake into the monkey-house at the Zoo- logical Gardens, and the excitement thus caused was one of the most curious spectacles which I ever beheld. Three species of Cercopithecus were the most alarmed ; they dashed about their cages and uttered sharp signal- cries of danger, which were understood by the other monkeys. A few young monkeys and one old Anubis baboon alone took no notice of the snake. I then placed the stuffed specimen on the ground in one of the larger compartments. After a time all the monkeys collected round it in a large circle, and staring in- tently, presented a most ludicrous appearance. They became extremely nervous ; so that when a wooden ball, with which they were familiar as a plaything, was acci- dently moved in the straw, under which it was partly hidden, they all instantly started away. These monkeys behaved very differently when a dead fish, a mouse, and some other new objects were placed in their cages ; for though at first frightened, they soon approached, handled and examined them. I then placed a live snake in a paper bag, with the mouth loosely closed, in one of the larger compartments. One of the monkeys immediately approached, cautiously opened the bag a little, peeped in, and instantly dashed away. Then I witnessed what Brehm has described, for monkey after monkey, with head raised high and turned on one side, could not resist taking momentary peeps into the upright bag, at the dreadful object lying quiet at the bottom. It would almost appear as if monkeys had some notion of zoological affinities, for those kept by Brehm exhibited a strange, though mistaken, instinctive dread of inno- cent lizards and frogs. An orang, also, has been known to be much alarmed at the first sight of a turtle.9 9 W. C. L. Martin, ' Nat. Hist, of Mammalia,' 1841, p. 405. 44 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. The principle of Imitation is strong in man, and especially in man in a barbarous state. Desor10 has remarked that no animal voluntarily imitates an action performed by man, until in the ascending scale we come to monkeys, which are well-known to be ridiculous mockers. Animals, however, sometimes imitate each others' actions : thus two species of wolves, which had been reared by dogs, learned to bark, as does some- times the jackal,11 but whether this can be called volun- tary imitation is another question. From one account which I have read, there is reason to believe that puppies nursed by cats sometimes learn to lick their feet and thus to clean their faces : it is at least certain, as I hear from a perfectly trustworthy friend, that some dogs behave in this manner. Birds imitate the songs of their parents, and sometimes those of other birds ; and par- rots are notorious imitators of any sound which they often hear. Hardly any faculty is more important for the intel- lectual progress of man than the power of Attention. Animals clearly manifest this power, as when a cat watches by a hole and prepares to spring on its prey. Wild animals sometimes become so absorbed when thus engaged, that they may be easily approached. Mr. Bartlett has given me a curious proof how variable this faculty is in monkeys. A man who trains monkeys to act used to purchase common kinds from the Zoological Society at the price of five pounds for each ; but he offered to give double the price, if he might keep three or four of them for a few days, in order to select one. When asked how he could possibly so soon learn whether 10 Quoted by Vogt, ' Memoire sur les Microce'pkales,' 1867, p. 168. 11 ' The Variation of Animals and Plants under Domestication,' vol. i. p. 27. Chap. II. MENTAL POWERS. 45 a particular monkey would turn out a good actor, he answered that it all depended on their power of atten- tion. If when he was talking and explaining anything to a monkey, its attention was easily distracted, as by a fly on the wall or other trifling object, the case was hopeless. If he tried by punishment to make an in- attentive monkey act, it turned sulky. On the other hand, a monkey which carefully attended to him could always be trained. It is almost superfluous to state that animals have excellent Memories for persons and places. A baboon at the Cape of Good Hope, as I have been informed by Sir Andrew Smith, recognised him with joy after an absence of nine months. I had a dog who was savage and averse to all strangers, and I purposely tried his memory after an absence of five years and two days. I went near the stable where he lived, and shouted to him in my old manner ; he showed no joy, but in- stantly followed me out walking and obeyed me, exactly as if I had parted with him only half-an-hour before. A train of old associations, dormant during five years, had thus been instantaneously awakened in his mind. Even ants, as P. Huber 12 has clearly shewn, recognised their fellow-ants belonging to the same com- munity after a separation of four months. Animals can certainly by some means judge of the intervals of time between recurrent events. The Imagination is one of the highest prerogatives of man. By this faculty he unites, independently of the will, former images and ideas, and thus creates bril- liant and novel results. A poet, as Jean Paul Richter remarks,13 " who must reflect whether he shall make a 12 'Les Moeurs des Fourmis,' 1810, p. 150. 13 Quoted in Dr. Maudsley's ' Physiology and Pathology of Mind,' 186S, pp. 19, 220. 46 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. " character say yes or no — to the devil with him ; he is " only a stupid corpse." Dreaming gives us the best notion of this power ; as Jean Paul again says, " The " dream is an involuntary art of poetry." The value of the products of our imagination depends of course on the number, accuracy, and clearness of our impressions ; on our judgment and taste in selecting or rejecting the involuntary combinations, and to a certain extent on our power of voluntarily combining them. As dogs, cats, horses, and probably all the higher animals, even birds, as is stated on good authority,14 have vivid dreams, and this is shewn by their movements and voice, we must admit that they possess some power of imagination. Of all the faculties of the human mind, it will, I presume, be admitted that Beason stands at the summit. Few persons any longer dispute that animals possess some power of reasoning. Animals may constantly be seen to pause, deliberate, and resolve. It is a significant fact, that the more the habits of any particular animal are studied by a naturalist, the more he attributes to reason and the less to unlearnt instincts.15 In future chapters we shall see that some animals extremely low in the scale apparently display a certain amount of reason. No doubt it is often difficult to distinguish between the power of reason and that of instinct. Thus Dr. Hayes, in his work on * The Open Polar Sea,' repeatedly re- marks that his dogs, instead of continuing to draw the sledges in a compact body, diverged and separated when they came to thin ice, so that their weight might be more evenly distributed. This was often the first warn- 14 Dr. Jerdon, ' Birds of India,' vol. i. 1862, p. xxi. 15 Mr. L. H. Morgan's work on ' The American Beaver,' 1868, offers a good illustration of this remark. I cannot, however, avoid thinking that he goes too far in underrating the power of Instinct. Chap. II. MENTAL POWEES. 47 ing and notice which the travellers received that the ice was becoming thin and dangerous. Now, did the dogs act thus from the experience of each individual, or from the example of the older and wiser dogs, or from an inherited habit, that is from an instinct ? This instinct might possibly have arisen since the time, long ago, when dogs were first employed by the natives in draw- ing their sledges ; or the Arctic wolves, the parent-stock of the Esquimaux dog, may have acquired this instinct, impelling them not to attack their prey in a close pack when on thin ice. Questions of this kind are most difficult to answer. So many facts have been recorded in various works shewing that animals possess some degree of reason, that I will here give only two or three instances, authen- ticated by Kengger, and relating to American monkeys, which stand low in their order. He states that when he first gave eggs to his monkeys, they smashed them and thus lost much of their contents ; afterwards thev gently hit one end against some hard body, and picked off the bits of shell with their fingers. After cutting themselves only once with any sharp tool, they would not touch it again, or would handle it with the greatest care. Lumps of sugar were often given them wrapped up in paper ; and Eengger sometimes put a live wasp in the paper, so that in hastily unfolding it they got stung ; after this had once happened, they always first held the packet to their ears to detect any movement within. Any one who is not convinced by such facts as these, and by what he may observe with his own dogs, that animals can reason, would not be convinced by anything that I could add. Nevertheless I will give one case with respect to dogs, as it rests on two distinct observers, and can hardly depend on the modification of any instinct. 48 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. Mr. Colquhoun 16 winged two wild-ducks, which fell on the opposite side of a stream ; his retriever tried to bring over both at once, but could not succeed ; she then, though never before known to ruffle a feather, deliberately killed one, brought over the other, and re- turned for the dead bird. Col. Hutchinson relates that two partridges were shot at once, one being killed, the other wounded ; the latter ran away, and was caught by the retriever, who on her return came across the dead bird ; " she stopped, evidently greatly puzzled, and " after one or two trials, finding she could not take it up " without permitting the escape of the winged bird, she " considered a moment, then deliberately murdered it " by giving it a severe crunch, and afterwards brought " away both together. This was the only known in- " stance of her ever having wilfully injured any game." Here we have reason, though not quite perfect, for the retriever might have brought the wounded bird first and then returned for the dead one, as in the case of the two wild-ducks. The muleteers in S. America say, "I will not give " you the mule whose step is easiest, but la mas rational, " — the one that reasons best ; ,: and Humboldt 17 adds, "this popular expression, dictated by long experience, " combats the system of animated machines, better per- " haps than all the arguments of speculative j)hilosophy." It has, I think, now been shewn that man and the higher animals, especially the Primates, have some few instincts in common. All have the same senses, intui- tions and sensations — similar passions, affections, and emotions, even the more complex ones ; they feel 16 'The Moor and the Loch,' p. 45. Col. Hutchinson on ' Dog Breaking,' 1850, p. 46. 17 'Personal Narrative,' Eng. translat., vol. iii. p. 106. Chap. II. MENTAL POWERS. 49 wonder and curiosity ; they possess the same faculties of imitation, attention, memory, imagination, and reason, though in very different degrees. Nevertheless many authors have insisted that man is separated through his mental faculties by an impassable barrier from all the lower animals. I formerly made a collection of above a score of such aphorisms, but they are not worth giving, as their wide difference and number prove the difficulty, if not the impossibility, of the attempt. It has been asserted that man alone is capable of progres- sive improvement ; that he alone makes use of tools or fire, domesticates other animals, possesses property, or employs language ; that no other animal is self-con- scious, comprehends itself, has the power of abstraction, or possesses general ideas ; that man alone has a sense of beauty, is liable to caprice, has the feeling of grati- tude, mystery, &c. ; believes in God, or is endowed with a conscience. I will hazard a few remarks on the more important and interesting of these points. Archbishop Sumner formerly maintained 18 that man alone is capable of progressive improvement. With animals, looking first to the individual, every one who has had any experience in setting traps knows that young animals can be caught much more easily than old ones ; and they can be much more easily approached by an enemy. Even with respect to old animals, it is impossible to catch many in the same place and in the same kind of trap, or to destroy them by the same kind of poison ; yet it is improbable that all should have partaken of the poison, and impossible that all should have been caught in the trap. They must learn caution by seeing their brethren caught or poisoned. In North America, where the fur-bearing animals have long been 18 Quoted by Sir C. Lyell, 'Antiquity of Man,' p. 497. VOL. I. E 50 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. pursued, they exhibit, according to the unanimous tes- timony of all observers, an almost incredible amount of sagacity, caution, and cunning ; but trapping has been there so long carried on that inheritance may have come into play. If we look to successive generations, or to the race, there is no doubt that birds and other animals gradually both acquire and lose caution in relation to man or other enemies ; 19 and this caution is certainly in chief part an inherited habit or instinct, but in part the result of individual experience. A good observer, Leroy,20 states that in districts where foxes are much hunted, the vouno* when thev first leave their burrows are in- contestably much more wary than the old ones in dis- tricts where they are not much disturbed. Our domestic dogs are descended from wolves and jackals,21 and though they may not have gained in cunning, and may have lost in waryness and suspicion, yet they have progressed in certain moral qualities, such as in affection, trust-worthiness, temper, and pro- bably in general intelligence. The common rat has conquered and beaten several other species through- out Europe, in parts of North America, New Zealand, and recently in Formosa, as well as on the mainland of China. Mr. Swinhoe,22 who describes these latter cases, attributes the victory of the common rat over the large Mus coninga to its 'superior cunning; and this latter quality may be attributed to the habitual exercise of all its faculties in avoiding extirpation by man, as well 19 ' Journal of Researches during the Voyage of the " Beagle," ' 184f>, p. 398. ' Origin of Species,' 5th edit. p. 260. 20 ' Lettres Phil, sur l'lntelligence des Animaux,' nouvelle edit. 1802, p. 86. 21 See the evidence on this head in chap. i. vol. i. ' On the Variation of Animals and Plants under Domestication.' 22 ' Proc. Zoolog. Soc.' 1864, p. 186. Chap. II. MENTAL POWEKS. 51 as to nearly all the less cunning or weak-minded rats having been successively destroyed by him. To main- tain, independently of any direct evidence, that no animal during the course of ages has progressed in intellect or other mental faculties, is to beg the question of the evolution of species. Hereafter we shall see that, according to Lartet, existing mammals belonging to several orders have larger brains than their ancient tertiary prototypes. It lias often been said that no animal uses any tool ; but the chimpanzee in a state of nature cracks a native fruit, somewhat like a walnut, with a stone.23 Bengger24 easily taught an American monkey thus to break open hard palm-nuts, and afterwards of its own accord it used stones to open other kinds of nuts, as well as boxes. It thus also removed the soft rind of fruit that had a disagreeable flavour. Another monkey was taught to open the lid of a large box with a stick, and after- wards it used the stick as a lever to move heavv bodies ; and I have myself seen a young orang put a stick into a crevice, slip his hand to the other end, and use it in the proper manner as a lever. In the cases just men- tioned stones and sticks were employed as implements ; but they are likewise used as weapons. Brehm 25 states, on the authority of the well-known traveller Schimper, that in Abyssinia when the baboons belonging to one species (C. gelada) descend in troops from the moun- tains to plunder the fields, they sometimes encounter troops of another species (C. hamadryas), and then a fight ensues. The Geladas roll down great stones, which the Hamadryas try to avoid, and then both species, 23 Savage and Wyman in 'Boston Journal of Nat. Hist.' vol. iv. ]f43-44, p. 383. 24 ' Siiugethiere von Paraguay,' 1830, s. 51-56. 25 ' Thierleben,' B. i. s. 79, 82. E 2 52 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Pabt I. making a great uproar, rush furiously against each other. Brehm, when accompanying the Duke of Coburg- Gotha, aided in an attack with fire-arms on a troop of baboons in the pass of Mensa in Abyssinia. The baboons in return rolled so many stones down the mountain, some as large as a man's head, that the attackers had to beat a hasty retreat ; and the pass was actually for a time closed against tlie caravan. It deserves notice that these baboons thus acted in concert. Mr. Wal- lace26 on three occasions saw female orangs, accom- panied by their young, " breaking off branches and " the great spiny fruit of the Durian tree, with every " appearance of rage ; causing such a shower of missiles " as effectually kept us from approaching too near the " tree." In the Zoological Gardens a monkev which had weak teeth used to break open nuts with a stone ; and I was assured by the keepers that this animal, after using the stone, hid it in the straw, and would not let any other monkey touch it. Here, then, we have the idea of property ; but this idea is common to every dog with a bone, and to most or all birds with their nests. The Duke of Argyll 27 remarks, that the fashioning of an implement for a special purpose is absolutely peculiar to man ; and he considers that this forms an immeasur- able gulf between him and the brutes. It is no doubt a very important distinction, but there appears to me much truth in Sir J. Lubbock's suggestion,28 that when primeval man first used flint-stones for any purpose, he would have accidentally splintered them, and would then have used the sharp fragments. From this step it would be a small one to intentionally break the 26 ' The Malay Archipelago,' vol. i. 1869, p. 87. 27 ' Primeval Man,' 1869, pp. 145, 147. 28 ' Prehistoric Times,' 1865, p. 473, &c. Chap. II. MENTAL POWERS. 53 flints, and not a very wide step to rudely fashion them. This latter advance, however, may have taken long ages, if we may judge by the immense interval of time which elapsed before the men of the neolithic period took to grinding and polishing their stone tools. In breaking the flints, as Sir J. Lubbock likewise remarks, sparks would have been emitted, and in grinding them heat would have been evolved : " thus the two usual " methods of obtaining fire may have originated." The nature of fire would have been known in the many volcanic regions where lava occasionally flows through forests. The anthropomorphous apes, guided probably by instinct, build for themselves temporary platforms ; but as many instincts are largely controlled by reason, the simpler ones, such as this of building a platform, might readily pass into a voluntary and conscious act. The orang is known to cover itself at night with the leaves of the Pandanus ; and Brehm states that one of his baboons used to protect itself from the heat of the sun by throwing a straw-mat over its head. In these latter habits, we probably see the first steps towards some of the simpler arts ; namely rude architecture and dress, as they arose amongst the early progenitors of man. Language. — This faculty has justly been considered as one of the chief distinctions between man and the lower animals. But man, as a highly competent judge, Arch- bishop Whately remarks, " is not the only animal that " can make use of language to express what is passing in " his mind, and can understand, more or less, what is so " expressed by another." 29 In Paraguay the Cebus azarse when excited utters at least six distinct sounds, which 29 Quoted in ' Anthropological Review,' 18G4, p. 158. 5-4 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. excite in other monkeys similar emotions.30 The move- ments of the features and gestures of monkeys are un- derstood by us, and they partly understand ours, as Eeno-o-er and others declare. It is a more remark- DO able fact that the dog, since being domesticated, has learnt to bark 31 in at least four or five distinct tones. Although barking is a new art, no doubt the wild spe- cies, the parents of the dog, expressed their feelings by cries of various kinds. With the domesticated dog we have the bark of eagerness, as in the chase ; that of anger ; the yelping or howling bark of despair, as when shut up ; that of joy, as when starting on a walk with his master ; and the very distinct one of demand or supplication, as when wishing for a door or window to be opened. Articulate language is, however, peculiar to man ; but he uses in common with the lower animals inarti- culate cries to express his meaning, aided by gestures and the movements of the muscles of the face.32 This especially holds good with the more simple and vivid feelings, which are but little connected with our higher intelligence. Our cries of pain, fear, surprise, anger, to- gether with their appropriate actions, and the murmur of a mother to her beloved child, are more expressive than any words. It is not the mere power of articula- tion that distinguishes man from other animals, for as every one knows, parrots can talk ; but it is his large power of connecting definite sounds with definite ideas ; and this obviously depends on the development of the mental faculties. 30 Kenggcr, ibid. s. 45. 31 See my ' Variation of Animals and Plants under Domestication,' vol. i. p. 27. 32 See a discussion on this subject in Mr. E. B. Tylor's very interest- ing work, 'Eesearches into the Early History of Mankind,' 1865, chaps, ii. to iv. Chap. II. MENTAL POWERS. 55 As Home Tooke, one of the founders of the noble science of philology, observes, language is an art, like brewing or baking ; but writing would have been a much more appropriate simile. It certainly is not a true instinct, as every language has to be learnt. It differs, however, widely from all ordinary arts, for man has an instinctive tendency to speak, as we see in the babble of our young children ; whilst no child has an instinctive tendency to brew, bake, or write. Moreover, no philologist now supposes that any language has been deliberately invented ; each has been slowly and unconsciously developed by many steps. The sounds uttered by birds offer in several respects the nearest analogy to language, for all the members of the same species utter the same instinctive cries expressive of their emotions ; and all the kinds that have the power of singing exert this power instinctively ; but the actual song, and even the call-notes, are learnt from their parents or foster-parents. These sounds, as Daines Barrington 33 has proved, " are no more innate than " language is in man." The first attempts to sing " may be compared to the imperfect endeavour in a " child to babble." The young males continue prac- tising, or, as the bird-catchers say, recording, for ten or eleven months. Their first essays show hardly a rudiment of the future song; but as they grow older we can perceive what they are aiming at ; and at last they are said " to sing their song round." Nestlings which have learnt the song of a distinct species, as with the canary-birds educated in the Tyrol, teacli and transmit their new song to their offspring. The slight natural differences of song in the same species inha- 33 Hon. Daines Barrington in ' Philosoph. Transactions,' 1773, p. 262. See also Dureau de la Malle, in ' Ann. des Sc. Nat.' 3rd series, Zoolog. torn. x. p. 119. 56 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. biting different districts may be appositely compared, as Barrington remarks, " to provincial dialects ;" and the songs of allied, though distinct species may be com- pared with the languages of distinct races of man. I have given the foregoing details to shew that an in- stinctive tendency to acquire an art is not a peculiarity confined to man. With respect to the origin of articulate language, after having read on the one side the highly interesting works of Mr. Hensleigh Wedgwood, the Kev. F. Farrar, and Prof. Schleicher,34 and the celebrated lectures of Prof. Max Miiller on the other side, I cannot doubt that language owes its origin to the imitation and mo- dification, aided by signs and gestures, of various natural sounds, the voices of other animals, and man's own instinctive cries. When we treat of sexual selec- tion we shall see that primeval man, or rather some early progenitor of man, probably used his voice largely, as does one of the gibbon-apes at the present day, in producing true musical cadences, that is in singing ; we may conclude from a widely -spread analogy that this power would have been especially exerted during the courtship of the sexes, serving to express various emotions, as love, jealousy, triumph, and serving as a challenge to their rivals. The imitation by articulate sounds of musical cries might have given rise to words expressive of various complex emotions. As bearing on the subject of imitation, the strong tendency in our nearest allies, the monkeys, in microcephalous 34 ' On the Origin of Language/ by H. Wedgwood, 1866. ' Chapters on Language,' by the Kev. F. W. Farrar, 1865. These works are most interesting. See also ' De la Phys. et de Parole,' par Albert Lemoine, 1865, p. 190. The work on this subject, by the late Prof. Aug. Schlei- cher, has been translated by Dr. Bikkers into English, under the title of ' Darwinism tested by the Science of Language/ 1869. Chap. II. MENTAL POWEES. 57 idiots,35 and in the barbarous races of mankind, to imi- tate whatever they hear deserves notice. As monkeys certainly understand much that is said to them by man, and as in a state of nature they utter signal-cries of danger to their fellows,36 it does not appear altogether incredible, that some unusually wise ape-like animal should have thought of imitating the growl of a beast of prey, so as to indicate to his fellow monkeys the nature of the expected danger. And this would have been a first step in the formation of a language. As the voice was used more and more, the vocal organs would have been strengthened and perfected through the principle of the inherited effects of use ; and this would have reacted on the power of speech. But the relation between the continued use of language and the development of the brain has no doubt been far more important. The mental powers in some early pro- genitor of man must have been more highly developed than in any existing ape, before even the most imperfect form of speech could have come into use ; but we may confidently believe that the continued use and .advance- ment of this power would have reacted on the mind by enabling and encouraging it to carry on long trains of thought. A long and complex train of thought can no more be carried on wdthout the aid of words, whether spoken or silent, than a long calculation without the use of figures or algebra. It appears, also, that even ordinary trains of thought almost require some form of language, for the dumb, deaf, and^ blind girl, Laura Bridgman, was observed to use her fingers whilst dream- 35 Vogt, 'Memoire sur les Microcephales,' 1867, p. 169. With respect to savages, I have given some facts in my ' Journal of Eesearches,' &c, 1845, p. 206. 36 See clear evidence on this head in the two works so often quoted, by Brehm and Kengger. 58 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. ing.37 Nevertheless a long succession of vivid and con- nected ideas, may pass through the mind without the aid of any form of language, as we may infer from the prolonged dreams of dogs. We have, also, seen that retriever-dogs are able to reason to a certain extent ; and this they manifestly do without the aid of language. The intimate connection between the brain, as it is now developed in us, and the faculty of speech, is well shewn by those curious cases of brain-disease, in which speech is specially affected, as when the power to re- member substantives is lost, whilst other words can be correctly used.38 There is no more improbability in the effects of the continued use of the vocal and mental organs being inherited, than in the case of hand- writing, which depends partly on the structure of the hand and partly on the disposition of the mind ; and hand-writing is certainly inherited.39 Why the organs now used for speech should have been originally perfected for this purpose, rather than any other organs, it is not difficult to see. Ants have considerable powers of intercommunication by means of their antennae, as shewn by Huber, who devotes a whole chapter to their language. We might have used our fingers as efficient instruments, for a person wTith practice can report to a deaf man every word of a speech rapidly delivered at a public meeting ; but the loss of our hands, whilst thus employed, would have been a serious inconvenience. As all the higher mammals possess vocal organs constructed on the same general 37 See remarks on this head hy Dr. Maudsley, 'The Physiology and Pathology of Mind,' 2nd edit. 1868, p. 199. 38 Many curious cases have been recorded. See, for instance, ' Inquiries Concerning the Intellectual Powers/ by Dr. Aberciombie, 1838, p. 150. 39 ' The Variation of Animals and Plants under Domestication,' vol. ii. p. 6. Chap. II. MENTAL POWERS. 59 plan with ours, and which are used as a means of commu- nication, it was obviously probable, if the power of com- munication had to be improved, that these same organs would have been still further developed ; and this has been effected by the aid of adjoining and well-adapted parts, namely the tongue and lips.40 The fact of the higher apes not using their vocal organs for speech, 1:0 doubt depends on their intelligence not having been sufficiently advanced. The possession by them of organs, which with long-continued practice might have been used for speech, although not thus used, is paralleled by the case of many birds which possess organs fitted for singing, though they never sing. Thus, the nightingale and crow have vocal organs similarly constructed, these being used by the former for diversified song, and by the latter merely for croaking.41 The formation of different languages and of dis- tinct species, and the proofs that both have been de- veloped through a gradual process, are curiously the same.42 But we can trace the origin of many words further back than in the case of species, for we can perceive how they have actually arisen from the imitation of various sounds. We find in distinct languages striking homologies due to community of descent, and analogies due to a similar process of 40 See some good remarks to this effect by Dr. Maudsley, ' The Physiology and Pathology of Mind,' 1868, p. 199. 41 Macgillivray, 'Hist, of British Birds,' vol. ii. 1839, p. 29. An excellent observer, Mr. Blackwall, remarks that the magpie learns to pronounce single words, and even short sentences, more readily than ulmost any other British bird ; yet, as he adds, after long and closely investigating its habits, he has never known it, in a state of nature, display any unusual capacity for imitation. ' Kesearches in Zoology,' 1834, p. 158. 42 See the very interesting parallelism between the deveh species and languages, given by Sir C. Lyell in ' The GeoloafT J^v)«en^is ^ > ^ of the Antiquity of Man,' 1 803, chap, xxiii. /^ O < f£j i* ^*^ -5 LIBRARY 60 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. formation. The manner in which certain letters or sounds change when others change is very like corre- lated growth. We have in both cases the reduplication of parts, the effects of long-continued use, aud so forth. The frequent presence of rudiments, both in languages and in species, is still more remarkable. The letter m in the word am, means I ; so that in the expression lam, a superfluous and useless rudiment has been retained. In the spelling also of words, letters often remain as the rudiments of ancient forms of pronunciation. Languages, like organic beings, can be classed in groups under groups ; and they can be classed either naturally according to descent, or artificially by other characters. Dominant languages and dialects spread widely and lead to the gradual extinction of other tongues. A lan- guage, like a species, when once extinct, never, as Sir C. Lyell remarks, reappears. The same language never has two birth-places. Distinct languages may be crossed or blended together.43 We see variability in every tongue, and new words are continually cropping up ; but as there is a limit to the powers of the memory, single words, like whole languages, gradually become extinct. As Max Muller44 has well remarked: — " A struggle for " life is constantly going on amongst the words and gram- "matical forms in each language. The better, the " shorter, the easier forms are constantly gaining the " upper hand, and they owe their success to their own " inherent virtue." To these more important causes of the survival of certain words, mere novelty may, I think, be added ; for there is in the mind of man a strong love for slight changes in all things. The survival or 43 See remarks to this effect by the Rev. F. W. Farrar, in an interest- ing article, entitled " Philology and Darwinism " in ' Nature,' March 24th, 1870, p. 528. 44 ' Nature,' Jan. 6th, 1870, p. 257. Chap. II. MENTAL POWERS. Gl preservation of certain favoured words in the struggle for existence is natural selection. The perfectly regular and wonderfully complex con- struction of the languages of many barbarous nations has often been advanced as a proof, either of the divine origin of these languages, or of the high art and former civilisation of their founders. Thus F. von Schlegel writes : " In those languages which appear to be at the " lowest grade of intellectual culture, we frequently ob- " serve a very high and elaborate degree of art in their " grammatical structure. This is especially the case with " the Basque and the Lapponian, and many of the Ame- " rican languages." 45 But it is assuredly an error to speak of any language as an art in the sense of its having been elaborately and methodically formed. Philolo- gists now admit that conjugations, declensions, &c, ori- ginally existed as distinct words, since joined together ; and as such words express the most obvious relations between objects and persons, it is not surprising that they should have been used by the men of most races during the earliest ages. With respect to perfection, the following illustration will best shew how easily we may err : a Crinoid sometimes consists of no less than 150,000 pieces of shell,40 all arranged with per- fect symmetry in radiating lines ; but a naturalist does not consider an animal of this kind as more perfect than a bilateral one with comparatively few parts, and with none of these alike, excepting on the opposite sides of the body. He iustlv considers the differen- tiation and specialisation of organs^ as the test of per- fection. So with languages, the most symmetrical and complex ought not to be ranked above irregular, abbre- 45 Quoted by C. S. Wake, ' Chapters on Man,' 1868, p. 101. 46 Buckland, ' Bridgewater Treatise,' p. 411. 62 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. viated, and bastardised languages, which have borrowed expressive words and useful forms of construction from various conquering, or conquered, or immigrant races. From these few and imperfect remarks I conclude that the extremely complex and regular construction of many barbarous languages, is no proof that they owe their origin to a special act of creation.47 Nor, as we have seen, does the faculty of articulate speech in itself offer any insuperable objection to the belief that man has been developed from some lower form. Self -consciousness, Individuality, Abstraction, General Ideas, &c. — It would be useless to attempt discussing these high faculties, which, according to several recent writers, make the sole and complete distinction between man and the brutes, for hardly two authors agree in their definitions. Such faculties could not have been fully developed in man until his mental powers had advanced to a high standard, and this implies the use of a perfect language. No one supposes that one of the lower ani- mals reflects whence he comes or whither he goes, — what is death or what is life, and so forth. But can we feel sure that an old dog with an excellent memory and some power of imagination, as shewn by his dreams, never reflects on his past pleasures in the chase ? and this would be a form of self-consciousness. On the other hand, as Biiehner48 has remarked, how little can the hard-worked wife of a degraded Australian savage, who uses hardly any abstract words and cannot count above four, exert her self-consciousness, or reflect on the nature of her own existence. 47 See some good remarks on the simplification of languages, by Sir J. Lubbock, ' Origin of Civilisation,' 1870, p. 278. 48 ' Conferences sur la The'orie Darwinienne,' French translat., 1869, p. 132. Chap. II. MENTAL POWERS. 63 That animals retain their mental individuality is unquestionable. When my voice awakened a train of old associations in the mind of the above-mentioned dog. he must have retained his mental individuality, although every atom of his brain had probably under- gone change more than once during the interval of five years. This dog might have brought forward the argument lately advanced to crush all evolutionists, and said, "I abide amid all mental moods and all " material changes. . . . The teaching that atoms leave " their impressions as legacies to other atoms falling " into the places they have vacated is contradictory of " the utterance of consciousness, and is therefore false ; " but it is the teaching necessitated by evolutionism, " consequently the hypothesis is a false one." 4ft Sense of Beauty. — This sense has been declared to be peculiar to man. Bat when we behold male birds elaborately displaying their plumes and splendid colours before the females, whilst other birds not thus deco- rated make no such display, it is impossible to doubt that the females admire the beauty of their male part- ners. As women everywhere deck themselves with these plumes, the beauty of such ornaments cannot be disputed. The Bower-birds by tastefully ornamenting their playing-passages with gaily-coloured objects, as do certain humming-birds their nests, offer additional evidence that they possess a sense of beauty. So with the song of birds, the sweet strains poured forth by the males during the season of love are "certainly admired by the females, of which fact evidence will hereafter be given. If female birds had been incapable of appre- ciating the beautiful colours, the ornaments, and voices 49 The Rev. Dr. J. M'Cann, ' Anti-Darwinism,' 1869, p. 13. 64 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. of their male partners, all the labour and anxiety exhi- bited by them in displaying their charms before the females would have been thrown away ; and this it is impossible to admit. Why certain bright colours and certain sounds should excite pleasure, when in harmony, cannot, I presume, be explained any more than why certain flavours and scents are agreeable ; but assuredly the same colours and the same sounds are admired by us and by many of the lower animals. The taste for the beautiful, at least as far as female beauty is concerned, is not of a special nature in the human mind ; for it differs widely in the different races of man, as will hereafter be shewn, and is not quite the same even in the different nations of the same race. Judging from the hideous ornaments and the equally hideous music admired by most savages, it might be urged that their aesthetic faculty was not so highly developed as in certain animals, for instance, in birds. Obviously no animal would be capable of ad- miring such scenes as the heavens at night, a beautiful landscape, or refined music; but such high tastes, de- pending as they do on culture and complex associa- tions, are not enjoyed by barbarians or by uneducated persons. Many of the faculties, which have been of inesti- mable service to man for his progressive advance- ment, such as the powers of the imagination, wonder, curiosity, an undefined sense of beauty, a tendency to imitation, and the love of excitement or novelt , could not fail to have led to the most capricious changes of customs and fashions. I have alluded to this point, because a recent writer50 has oddly fixed on Caprice " as one of the most remarkable a d 50 • The Spectator,' Dec. 4th, 1869, p. 1430. Chap. II. MENTAL POWERS. 65 " typical differences between savages and brutes." But not only can we perceive how it is that man is capri- cious, but the lower animals are, as we shall hereafter see, capricious in their affections, aversions, and sense of beauty. There is also good reason to suspect that they love novelty, for its own sake. Belief in God — Religion. — There is no evidence that man was aboriginally endowed with the ennobling belief in the existence of an Omnipotent God. On the contrary there is ample evidence, derived not from hasty travellers, but from men who have long resided with savages, that numerous races have existed and still exist, who have no idea of one or more gods, and who have no words in their languages to express such an idea.51 The question is of course wholly distinct from that higher one, whether there exists a Creator and Ruler of the universe ; and this has been answered in the affirmative bv the highest intellects that have ever lived. If, however, we include under the term " religion " the belief in unseen or spiritual agencies, the case is wholly different; for this belief seems to be almost universal with the less civilised races. Nor is it difficult to comprehend how it arose. As soon as the important faculties of the imagination, wonder, and curiosity, together with some power of reasoning, had become partially developed, man would naturally have craved to understand what was passing around him, and have vaguely speculated on his own existence. As 51 See an excellent article on this subject by the Eev. F W. Farrar, in the ' Anthropological Review,' Aug. 1864, p. ccxvii. For further facts see Sir J. Lubbock, ' Prehistoric Times,' 2nd edit. 1869, p. 564 ; and especially the chapters on Religion in his ' Origin of Civilisation.' 1870. VOL. I. F 66 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. Mr. M'Lennan 52 has remarked, " Some explanation of " the phenomena of life, a man must feign for himself ; " and to judge from the universality of it, the simplest " hypothesis, and the first to occur to men, seems to have " been that natural phenomena are ascribable to the pre- " sence in animals, plants, and things, and in the forces " of nature, of such spirits prompting to action as men " are conscious they themselves possess." It is probable, as Mr. Tylor has clearly shewn, that dreams may have first given rise to the notion of spirits ; for savages do not readily distinguish between subjective and objective impressions. When a savage dreams, the figures which appear before him are believed to have come from a distance and to stand over him; or "the soul of the " dreamer goes out on its travels, and comes home with " a remembrance of what it has seen." 53 But until the above-named faculties of imagination, curiosity, reason, &c, had been fairly well developed in the mind of man, his dreams would not have led him to believe in spirits, any more than in the case of a dog. 32 The Worship of Animals and Plants, in the ' Fortnightly Keview,' Oct. 1, 1869, p. 422. 53 Tylor, 'Early History of Mankind,' 1865, p. 6. See also the three striking chapters on the Development of Eeligion, in Lubbock's ' Origin of Civilisation,' 1870. In a like manner Mr. Herbert Spencer, in his ingenious essay in the ' Fortnightly Review' (May 1st, 1870, p. 535), accounts for the earliest forms of religious belief throughout the world, by man being led through dreams, shadows, and other causes, to look at himself as a double essence, corporeal and spiritual. As the spiritual being is supposed to exist after death and to be powerful, it is propi- tiated by various gifts and ceremonies, and its aid invoked. He then further shews that names or nicknames given from some animal or other object to the early progenitors or founders of a tribe, are sup- posed after a long interval to represent the real progenitor of the tribe ; and such animal or object is then naturally believed still to exi^t as a spirit, is held sacred, and worshipped as a god. Nevertheless I cannot but suspect that there is a still earlier and ruder stage, when anything which manifests power or movement is thought to be endowed with some form of life, and with mental faculties analogous to our own. Chap. II. MENTAL POWERS. 67 The tendency in savages to imagine that natural objects and agencies are animated by spiritual or living essences, is perhaps illustrated by a little fact which I once noticed : my dog, a full-grown and very sensible animal, was lying on the lawn during a hot and still day ; but at a little distance a slight breeze occasionally moved an open parasol, which would have been wholly disregarded by the dog, had any one stood near it. As it was, every time that the parasol slightly moved, the dog growled fiercely and barked. He must, I think, have reasoned to himself in a rapid and unconscious manner, that movement without any apparent cause indicated the presence of some strange living agent, and no stranger had a right to be on his territory. The belief in spiritual agencies would easily pass into the belief in the existence of one or more gods. For savages would naturally attribute to spirits the same passions, the same love of vengeance or simplest form of justice, and the same affections which they themselves experienced. The Fuegians appear to be in this respect in an intermediate condition, for when the surgeon on board the " Beagle ': shot some young ducklings as specimens, York Minster declared in the most solemn manner, " Oh ! Mr. Bynoe, much rain, much snow, blow " much ;" and this was evidently a retributive punish- ment for wasting human food. So again he related how, when his brother killed a " wild man," storms long raged, much rain and snow fell. Yet we could never discover that the Fuegians believed in what we should call a God, or practised any religious rites ; and Jemmy Button, with justifiable pride, stoutly maintained that there was no devil in his land. This latter assertion is the more remarkable, as with savages the belief in bad spirits is far more common than the belief in good spirits. f 2 68 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. The feeling of religious devotion is a highly com- plex one, consisting of love, complete submission to an exalted and mysterious superior, a strong sense of dependence,54 fear, reverence, gratitude, hope for the future, and perhaps other elements. No being could experience so complex an emotion until advanced in his intellectual and moral faculties to at least a mode- rately high level. Nevertheless we see some distant approach to this state of mind, in the deep love of a dog for his master, associated with complete submission, some fear, and perhaps other feelings. The behaviour of a dog when returning to his master after an ab- sence, and, as I may add, of a monkey to his beloved keeper, is widely different from that towards their fellows. In the latter case the transports of joy appear to be somewhat less, and the sense of equality is shewn in every action. Professor Braubach55 goes so far as to maintain that a dog looks on his master as on a god. The same high mental faculties which first led man to believe in unseen spiritual agencies, then in fetish- ism, polytheism, and ultimately in monotheism, would infallibly lead him, as long as his reasoning powers remained poorly developed, to various strange super- stitions and customs. Many of these are terrible to think of — such as the sacrifice of human beings to a blood-loving god ; the trial of innocent persons by the ordeal of poison or fire ; witchcraft, &c. — yet it is well occasionally to reflect on these superstitions, for they shew us what an infinite debt of gratitude we owe to the improvement of our reason, to science, and our 54 See an able article on the Psychical Elements of Keligion, by Mr. L. Owen Pike, in ' Anthropolog. Keview/ April, 1870, p. lxiii. " ' Keligion, Moral, &c, der Darwin'schen Art-Lehre.' 1869, s. 53. Chap. II. MENTAL POWERS. 69 accumulated knowledge.56 As Sir J. Lubbock has well observed, "it is not too much to say that the horrible " dread of unknown evil hansrs like a thick cloud over " savage life, and embitters every pleasure." These miserable and indirect consequences of our highest faculties may be compared with the incidental and occasional mistakes of the instincts of the lower animals. 56 'Prehistoric Times,' 2nd edit. p. 571. In this work (at p. 553) there will be found an excellent account of the many strange and capricious customs of savages. 70 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. CHAPTER III. Comparison of the Mental Powers of Man and the Lower Animals — continued. The moral sense — Fundamental proposition — The qualities of social animals — Origin of sociability — Struggle between opposed in- stincts— Man a social animal — The more enduring social instincts conquer other less persistent instincts — The social virtues alone regarded by savages— -The self-regarding virtues acquired at a later stage of development — The importance of the judgment of the members of the same community on conduct — Trans- mission of moral tendencies — Summary. I fully subscribe to the judgment of those writers1 who maintain that of all the differences between man and the lower animals, the moral sense or conscience is by far the most important. This sense, as Mack- intosh2 remarks, "has a rightful supremacy over every " other principle of human action ; " it is summed up in that short but imperious word ought, so full of high significance. It is the most noble of all the attributes of man, leading him without a moment's hesitation to risk his life for that of a fellow- creature; or after due deliberation, impelled simply by the deep feeling of right or duty, to sacrifice it in some great cause. Immanuel Kant exclaims, " Duty ! Wondrous thought, " that workest neither by fond insinuation, flattery, nor " by any threat, but merely by holding up thy naked " law in the soul, and so extorting for thyself always 1 See, for instance, on this subject, Quatrefages, ' Unite de PEspece Humaine,' 1861, p. 21, &c. * ' Dissertation on Ethical Philosophy,' 1837, p. 231, &c. Chap. III. MOIIAL SENSE. 71 " reverence, if not always obedience ; before whom all " appetites are dumb, however secretly they rebel ; " whence thy original ? " 3 This great question has been discussed by many writers4 of consummate ability ; and my sole excuse for touching on it is the impossibility of here passing it over, and because, as far as I know, no one has ap- proached it exclusively from the side of natural history. The investigation possesses, also, some independent in- terest, as an attempt to see how far the study of the lower animals can throw light on one of the highest psychical faculties of man. The following proposition seems to me in a high degree probable — namely, that any animal whatever, endowed with well-marked social instincts,5 would inevi- tably acquire a moral sense or conscience, as soon as 3 ' Metaphysics of Ethics,' translated by J. W. Semple, Edinburgh, 1836, p. 136. 4 Mr. Bain gives a list (' Mental and Moral Science,' 1868, p. 543- 725) of twenty-six British authors who have written on this subject, and whose names are familiar to every reader ; to these, Mr, Bain's own name, and those of Mr. Lecky, Mr. Shadworth Hodgson, and Sir J. Lubbock, as well as of others, may be added. 5 Sir B. Brodie, after observing that man is a social animal (' Psy- chological Enquiries,' 1854, p. 192), asks the pregnant question, " ought not this to settle the disputed question as to the existence of a " moral sense ?" Similar ideas have probably occurred to many persons, as they did long ago to Marcus Aurelius. Mr. J. S. Mill speaks, in his celebrated work, ' Utilitarianism,' (1864, p. 46), of the social feelings as a " powerful natural sentiment," and as " the natural basis of " sentiment for utilitarian morality ; " but on the previous page he says, " if, as is my own belief, the moral feelings are not innate, but " acquired, they are not for that reason less natural." It is with hesita- tion that I venture to differ from so profound a thinker, but it can hardly be disputed that the social feelings are instinctive or innate in the lower animals ; and why should they not be so in man ? Mr. Bain (see, for instance, ' The Emotions and the Will,' 1865, p. 481) and others believe that the moral sense is acquired by each individual during his lifetime. On the general theory of evolution this is at least extremely improbable. 72 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. its intellectual powers had become as well developed, or nearly as well developed, as in man. For, firstly, the social instincts lead an animal to take pleasure in the society of its fellows, to feel a certain amount of sympathy with them, and to perform various services for them. The services may be of a definite and evi- dently instinctive nature ; or there may be only a wish and readiness, as with most of the higher social animals, to aid their fellows in certain general ways. But these feelings and services are by no means extended to all the individuals of the same species, only to those of the same association. Secondly, as soon as the mental faculties had become highly developed, images of all past actions and motives would be incessantly passing through the brain of each individual ; and that feeling of dissatisfaction which invariably results, as we shall hereafter see, from any unsatisfied instinct, would arise, as often as it was perceived that the enduring and always present social instinct had yielded to some other instinct, at the time stronger, but neither enduring in its nature, nor leaving behind it a very vivid impres- sion. It is clear that many instinctive desires, such as that of hunger, are in their nature of short duration ; and after being satisfied are not readily or vividly re- called. Thirdly, after the power of language had been acquired and the wishes of the members of the same community could be distinctly expressed, the common opinion how each member ought to act for the public good, would naturally become to a large extent the guide to action. But the social instincts would still give the impulse to act for the good of the community, this im- pulse being strengthened, directed, and sometimes even deflected by public opinion, the power of which rests, as we shall presently see, on instinctive sympathy. Lastly, habit in the individual would ultimately play a very Chap. III. MORAL SENSE. 73 important part in guiding the conduct of each member ; for the social instincts and impulses, like all other in- stincts, would be greatly strengthened by habit, as would obedience to the wishes and judgment of the com- munity. These several subordinate propositions must now be discussed ; and some of them at considerable length. It may be well first to premise that 1 do not wish to maintain that any strictly social animal, if its intellec- tual faculties were to become as active and as highly developed as in man, would acquire exactly the same moral sense as ours. In the same manner as various animals have some sense of beauty, though they admire widely different objects, so they might have a sense of right and wrong, though led by it to follow widely dif- ferent lines of conduct. If, for instance, to take an ex- treme case, men were reared under precisely the same conditions as hive-bees, there can hardly be a doubt that oar unmarried females would, like the worker- bees, think it a sacred duty to kill their brothers, and mothers would strive to kill their fertile daughters ; and no one would think of interfering. Nevertheless the bee, or any other social animal, would in our sup- posed case gain, as it appears to me, some feeling of right and wrong, or a conscience. For each individual would have an inward sense of possessing certain stronger or more enduring instincts, and others less strong or enduring ; so that there would often be a struggle which impulse should be followed; and satis- faction or dissatisfaction would be felt, as past impres- sions were compared during their incessant passage through the mind. In this case an inward monitor would tell the animal that it would have been better to have followed the one impulse rather than the other. The one course ought to have been followed : the one 74 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. would have been right and the other wrong; but to these terms I shall have to recur. Sociability. — Animals of many kinds are social ; we find even distinct species living together, as with some American inoDkeys, and with the united flocks of rooks, jackdaws, and starlings. Man shows the same feeling in his strong love for the dog, which the dog returns with interest. Every one must have noticed how mise- rable horses, dogs, sheep, &c. are when separated from their companions ; and what affection at least the two former kinds show on their reunion. It is curious to speculate on the feelings of a dog, who will rest peace- fully for hours in a room with his master or any of the family, without the least notice being taken of him ; but if left for a short time by himself, barks or howls dis- mally. We will confine our attention to the higher social animals, excluding insects, although these aid each other in many important ways. The most common service which the higher animals perform for each other, is the warning each other of danger by means of the united senses of alL Every sportsman knows, as Dr. Jaeger remarks,6 how difficult it is to approach animals in a herd or troop. Wild horses and cattle do not, I believe, make any danger-signal ; but the attitude of any one who first discovers an enemy, warns the others. Kabbits stamp loudly on the ground with their hind-feet as a signal : sheep and chamois do the same, but with their fore-feet, uttering likewise a whistle. Many birds and some mammals post sentinels, which in the case of seals are said 7 generally to be the females. The leader of a troop of monkeys acts as the sentinel, and utters cries expressive both of danger and of safety.8 Social 6 ' Die Darwin'sche Theorie,' s. 101. ■ Mr. R. Brown in ' Proc. Zoolog. Soc/ 1868, p. 409. 8 Brehm, ' Thierleben,' B. i. 1864, s. 52, 79. For the case of the Chap. III. MOEAL SENSE. 75 animals perform many little services for each other: horses nibble, and cows lick each other, on any spot which itches : monkeys search for each other's external parasites ; and Brehm states that after a troop of the Cercopithecus griseo-viridis has rushed through a thorny brake, each monkey stretches itself on a branch, and another monkey sitting by " conscientiously " examines its fur and extracts every thorn or burr. Animals also render more important services to each other : thus wolves and some other beasts of prey hunt in packs, and aid each other in attacking their victims. Pelicans fish in concert. The Hamadryas baboons turn over stones to find insects, &c. ; and when they come to a large one, as many as can stand round, turn it over together and share the booty. Social animals mutually defend each other. The males of some ruminants come to the front when there is danger and defend the herd with their horns. I shall also in a future chapter give cases of two young wild bulls attacking an old one in concert, and of two stallions together trying to drive away a third stallion from a troop of mares. Brehm encountered in Abyssinia a great troop of baboons which were crossing a valley : some had already ascended the opposite mountain, and some were still in the valley : the latter were attacked by the dogs, but the old males immediately hurried down from the rocks, and with mouths widely opened roared so fearfully, that the dogs precipitately retreated. They were again encouraged to the attack ; but by this time all the baboons had re- ascended the heights, excepting a young one, about six monkeys extracting thorns from each other, see s. 54. With respect to the Hamadryas turning over stones, the fact is given (s. 76) on the evidence of Alvarez, whose observations Brehm thinks quite trust- worthy. For the cases of the old male baboons attacking the dogs, see s. 79 ; and with respect to the eagle, s. 56. 76 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. months old, who, loudly calling for aid, climbed on a block of rock and was surrounded. Now one of the largest males, a true hero, came down again from the mountain, slowly went to the young one, coaxed him, and triumphantly led him away — the dogs being too much astonished to make an attack. I cannot resist giving another scene which was witnessed by this same naturalist ; an eagle seized a young Cercopithecus, which, by clinging to a branch, was not at once carried off; it cried loudly for assistance, upon which the other membeis of the troop with much uproar rushed to the rescue, surrounded the eagle, and pulled out so many feathers, that he no longer thought of his prey, but only how to escape. This eagle, as Brehm remarks, assuredly would never again attack a monkey in a troop. It is certain that associated animals have a feeling of love for each other which is not felt by adult and non- social animals. How far in most cases they actually sympathise with each other's pains and pleasures is more doubtful, especially with respect to the latter. Mr. Buxton, however, who had excellent means of observation,9 states that his macaws, which lived free in Norfolk, took "an extravagant interest" in a pair with a nest, and whenever the female left it, she was surrounded by a troop " screaming horrible accla- " mations in her honour." It is often difficult to judge whether animals have any feeling for each other's sufferings. Who can say what cows fee], when they surround and stare intently on a dying or dead companion? That animals sometimes are far from feeling any sympathy is too certain ; for they will expel a wounded animal from the herd, or gore or worry it to death. This is almost the blackest fact in natural 9 « Annals and Mag. of Nat. Hist.' Novcml er, 1868, p. 382. Chap. III. MORAL SENSE. 77 history, unless indeed the explanation which has been suggested is true, that their instinct or reason leads them to expel an injured companion, lest beasts of prey, including man, should be tempted to follow the troop. In this case their conduct is not much worse than that of the North American Indians who leave their feeble comrades to perish on the plains, or the Feegeans, who, when their parents get old or fall ill, bury them alive.10 Many animals, however, certainly sympathise with each other's distress or clanger. This is the case even with birds ; Capt. Stansbury n found on a salt lake in Utah an old and completely blind pelican, which was very fat, and must have been long and well fed by his companions. Mr. Blyth, as he informs me, saw Indian crows feeding two or three of their companions which were blind ; and I have heard of an analogous case with the domestic cock. We may, if we choose, call these actions instinctive ; but such cases are much too rare for the development of any special instinct.12 I have myself seen a dog, who never passed a great friend of his, a cat which lay sick in a basket, with- out giving her a few licks with his tongue, the surest sign of kind feeling in a dog. It must be called sympathy that leads a courageous dog to fly at any one who strikes his master, as he certainly will. I saw a person pretending to beat a lady who had a very timid little dog on her lap, and the trial had never before been made. The little crea- 10 Sir J. Lubbock, ' Prehistoric Times,' 2nd edit. p. 416. 11 As quoted by Mr. L. H. Morgan, * The American Beaver,' 18GS, p. 272. Capt. Stansbury also gives an interesting account of the man- ner in which a very young pelican, carried away by a strong stream, was guided and encouraged in its attempts to reach the shore by half a dozen old birds. 12 As Mr. Bain states, " effective aid to a sufferer springs from syra- " pathy proper:" ' Mental and Moral Science,' 1868, p. 245. 78 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. ture instantly jumped away, but after the pretended beating was over, it was really pathetic to see how per- se veringly he tried to lick his mistress's face and com- fort her. Brehm 13 states that when a baboon in con- finement was pursued to be punished, the others tried to protect him. It must have been sympathy in the cases above given which led the baboons and Cercopi- theci to defend their young comrades from the dogs and the eagle. I will give only one other instance of sympathetic and heroic conduct in a little American monkey. Several years ago a keeper at the Zoological Gardens, showed me some deep and scarcely healed wounds on the nape of his neck, inflicted on him whilst kneeling on the floor by a fierce baboon. The little American monkey, who was a warm friend of this keeper, lived in the same large compartment, and was dreadfully afraid of the great baboon. Nevertheless, as soon as he saw his friend the keeper in peril, he rushed to the rescue, and by screams and bites so distracted the baboon that the man was able to escape, after running great risk, as the surgeon who attended him thought, of his life. Besides love and sympathy, animals exhibit other qualities which in us would be called moral ; and I agree with Agassiz14 that dogs possess something very like a conscience. They certainly possess some power of self- command, and this does not appear to be wholly the result of fear. As Braubach 15 remarks, a dog will refrain from stealing food in the absence of his master. Dogs have long been accepted as the very type of fidelity and obedience. All animals living in a body which defend each other or attack their enemies 13 ' Thierleben,' B. i. s. 85. 14 ' De l'Espece et de la Class.' 1869, p. 97. 15 ' Der Darwin'scken Art-Lehre,' 1869, s. 54. Chap. III. MORAL SENSE. 79 in concert, must be in some degree faithful to each other; and those that follow a leader must be in some degree obedient. When the baboons in Abys- sinia16 plunder a garden, they silently follow their leader; and if an imprudent young animal makes a noise, he receives a slap from the others to teach him silence and obedience ; but as soon as they are sure that there is no danger, all show their joy by much clamour. With respect to the impulse which leads certain animals to associate together, and to aid each other in many ways, we may infer that in most cases they are impelled by the same sense of satisfaction or pleasure which they experience in performing other instinctive actions; or by the same sense of dissatisfaction, as in other cases of prevented instinctive actions. We see this in innumerable instances, and it is illustrated in a striking manner by the acquired instincts of our domesticated animals ; thus a young shepherd-dog delights in driving and running round a flock of sheep, but not in worrying them ; a young foxhound delights in hunting a fox, whilst some other kinds of dogs as I have witnessed, utterly disregard foxes. What a strong feeling of inward satisfaction must impel a bird, so full of activity, to brood day after day over her eggs. Migratory birds are miserable if prevented from migrat- ing, and perhaps they enjoy starting on their long flight. Some few instincts are determined solely by painful feelings, as by fear, which leads to self-preser- vation, or is specially directed against certain enemies. No one, I presume, can analyse the sensations of pleasure or pain. In many cases, however, it is pro- bable that instincts are persistently followed from the 18 Brelim, ■ Thierleben,' B. i. s. 76. 80 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. mere force of inheritance, without the stimulus of either pleasure or pain. A young pointer, when it first scents game, apparently cannot help pointing. A squirrel in a cage who pats the nuts which it cannot eat, as if to bury them in the ground, can hardly be thought to act thus either from pleasure or pain. Hence the common assumption that men must be impelled to every action by experiencing some pleasure or pain may be erro- neous. Although a habit may be blindly and implicitly followed, independently of any pleasure or pain felt at the moment, yet if it be forcibly and abruptly checked, a vague sense of dissatisfaction is generally expe- rienced ; and this is especially true in regard to persons of feeble intellect. It has often been assumed that animals were in the first place rendered social, and that they feel as a con- sequence uncomfortable when separated from each other, and comfortable whilst together ; but it is a more pro- bable view that these sensations were first developed, in order that those animals which would profit by living in society, should be induced to live together. In the same manner as the sense of hunger and the pleasure of eating were, no doubt, first acquired in order to induce animals to eat. The feeling of pleasure from society is probably an extension of the parental or filial affec- tions ; and this extension may be in chief part attributed to natural selection, but perhaps in part to mere habit. For with those animals which were benefited by living in close association, the individuals which took the greatest pleasure in society would best escape various dangers ; whilst those that cared least for their com- rades and lived solitary would perish in greater numbers. With respect to the origin of the parental and filial affections, which apparently lie at the basis of the social affections, it is hopeless to speculate ; but we Chap. III. MORAL SENSE. 81 may infer that they have been to a large extent gained through natural selection. So it has almost certainly been with the unusual and opposite feeling of hatred between the nearest relations, as with the worker-bees which kill their brother-drones, and with the queen-bees which kill their daughter-queens ; the desire to destroy, instead of loving, their nearest relations having been here of service to the community. The all-important emotion of sympathy is distinct from that of love. A mother may passionately love her sleeping and passive infant, but she can then hardly be said to feel sympathy for it. The love of a man for his dog is distinct from sympathy, and so is that of a dog for his master. Adam Smith formerly argued, as has Mr. Bain recently, that the basis of sympathy lies in our strong retentiveness of former states of pain or pleasure. Hence, " the sight of another person enduring " hunger, cold, fatigue, revives in us some recollection " of these states, which are painful even in idea." We are thus impelled to relieve the sufferings of another, in order that our own painful feelings may be at the same time relieved. In like manner we are led to participate in the pleasures of others.17 But I cannot see how this view explains the fact that sympathy is excited in an immeasurably stronger degree by a beloved than by an indifferent person. The mere 17 See the first and striking chapter in Adam Smith's ' Theory of Moral Sentiments.' Also Mr. Bain's ' Mental .and Moral Science,' 18G8, p. 244, and 275-282. Mr. Bain states, that "sympathy is, ' indirectly, a source of pleasure to the sympathiser ; " and he accounts for this through reciprocity. He remarks that " the person benefited, " or others in his stead, may make up, by sympathy and good offices " returned, for all the sacrifice." But if, as appears to be the case, sympathy is strictly an instinct, its exercise would give direct pleasure, in the same manner as the exercise, as before remarked, of almost every other ins'.inct. vol. i. a 82 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. sight of suffering, independently of love, would suffice to call up in us vivid recollections and associations. Sympathy may at first have originated in the manner above suggested; but it seems now to have become an instinct, which is especially directed towards be- loved objects, in the same manner as fear with ani- mals is especially directed against certain enemies. As sympathy is thus directed, the mutual love of the members of the same community will extend its limits. No doubt a tiger or lion feels sympathy for the suffer- ings of its own young, but not for any other animal. With strictly social animals the feeling will be more or less extended to all the associated members, as we know to be the case. With mankind selfishness, expe- rience, and imitation probably add, as Mr. Bain has shewn, to the power of sympathy ; for we are led by the hope of receiving good in return to perform acts of sympathetic kindness to others ; and there can be no doubt that the feeling of sympathy is much strengthened by habit. In however complex a manner this feeling may have originated, as it is one of high importance to all those animals which aid and defend each other, it will have been increased, through natural selection ; for those communities, which included the greatest number of the most sympathetic members, would flourish best and rear the greatest number of offspring. In many cases it is impossible to decide whether certain social instincts have been acquired through natural selection, or are the indirect result of other instincts and faculties, such as sympathy, reason, expe- rience, and a tendency to imitation ; or again, whether they are simply the result of long-continued habit. So remarkable an instinct as the placing sentinels to warn the community of danger, can hardly have been Chap. III. MORAL SENSE. 83 the indirect result of any other faculty ; it must there- fore have been directly acquired. On the other hand, the habit followed by the males of some social animals, of defending the community and of attacking their enemies or their prey in concert, may perhaps have originated from mutual sympathy; but courage, and in most cases strength, must have been previously acquired, probably through natural selection. Of the various instincts and habits, some are much stronger than others, that is, some either give more pleasure in their performance and more distress in their prevention than others ; or, which is probably quite as important, they are more persistently followed through inheritance without exciting any special feeling of plea- sure or pain. We are ourselves conscious that some habits are much more difficult to cure or change than others. Hence a struggle mav often be observed in animals between different instincts, or between an instinct and some habitual disposition ; as when a dog rushes after a hare, is rebuked, pauses, hesitates, pursues again or returns ashamed to his master ; or as between the love of a female dog for her yoimg puppies and for her master, for she may be seen to slink away to them, as if half ashamed of not accompanying her master. But the most curious instance known to me of one instinct conquering another, is the migratory instinct conquering the maternal instinct. The former is won- derfully strong ; a confined bird will at the proper season beat her breast against the wires of her cage, until it is bare and bloody. It causes young salmon to leap out of the fresh water, where they could still continue to live, and thus unintentionally to commit suicide. Every one knows how strong the maternal instinct is, leading even timid birds to face great danger, though with hesitation and in opposition to the instinct of self- G 2 84 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. preservation. Nevertheless trie migratory instinct is so powerful that late in the autumn swallows and house- martins frequently desert their tender young, leaving them to perish miserably in their nests.18 We can perceive that an instinctive impulse, if it be in any way more beneficial to a species than some other or opposed instinct, would be rendered the more potent of the two through natural selection ; for the individuals which had it most strongly developed would survive in larger numbers. Whether this is the case with the migratory in comparison with the maternal instinct, may well be doubted. The great persistence or steady action of the former at certain seasons of the year during the whole day, may give it for a time para- mount force. Man a social animal. — Most persons admit that man is a social being. We see this in his dislike of solitude, and in his wish for society beyond that of his own family. Solitary confinement is one of the severest punishments which can be inflicted. Some authors sup- pose that man primevally lived in single families ; but at the present day, though single families, or only two or three together, roam the solitudes of some savage lands, they are always, as far as I can discover, friendly with other families inhabiting the same district. Such families occasionally meet in council, and they unite 18 This fact, the Eev. L. Jenyns states (see his edition of ' White's Nat. Hist, of Selborne,' 1853, p. 204) was first recorded by the illus- trious Jenner, in ' Phil. Transact.' 1824, and has since been confirmed by several observers, especially by Mr. Blackwall. This latter careful observer examined, late in the autumn, during two years, thirty-six nests ; he found that twelve contained young dead birds, five contained eggs on the point of being hatched, and three eggs not nearly hatched. Many birds not yet old enough for a prolonged flight are likewise deserted and left behind. See Blackwall, 'Researches in Zoology,' 1834, pp. 108, 118. For some additional evidence, although this is nut wanted, see Leroy, 4 Lettres Phil.' 1802, p. 217. Chap. III. MORAL SENSE. 85 for tlieir common defence. It is no argument against savage man being a social animal, that the tribes in- habiting adjacent districts are almost always at war with each other ; for the social instincts never extend to all the individuals of the same species. Judging from the analogy of the greater number of the Quad- rumana, it is probable that the early ape-like pro- genitors of man were likewise social ; but this is not of much importance for us. Although man, as he now exists, has few special instincts, having lost any which his early progenitors may have possessed, this is no reason why he should not have retained from an ex- tremely remote period some degree of instinctive love and sympathy for his fellows. We are indeed all con- scious that we do possess such sympathetic feelings ; 19 but our consciousness does not tell us whether they are instinctive, having originated long ago in the same manner as with the lower animals, or whether they have been acquired by each of us during our early years. As man is a social animal, it is also probable that he would inherit a tendency to be faithful to his comrades, for this quality is common to most social animals. He would in like manner possess some capacity for self- command, and perhaps of obedience to the leader of the community. He would from an inherited tendency still be willing to defend, in concert with others, his fellow-men, and would be ready to aid them in any way which did not too greatly interfere with his own welfare or his own strong desires. The social animals which stand at the bottom of the 19 Hume remarks ('An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals,' edit, of 1751, p. 132), " there seems a necessity for confessing that the " happiness and misery of others are not spectacles altogether iu- " different to us, but that the view of the former . . . communicates a " secret joy; the appearance of the latter . . . throws a melancholy " damp over the imagination." //-" ' ^ ILtB 8G THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. scale are guided almost exclusively, and those which stand higher in the scale are largely guided, in the aid which they give to the members of the same community, by special instincts ; but they are likewise in part im- pelled by mutual love and sympathy, assisted appa- rently by some amount of reason. Although man, as just remarked, has no special instincts to tell him how to aid his fellow-men, he still has the impulse, and with his improved intellectual faculties would naturally be much guided in this respect by reason and experience. In- stinctive sympathy would, also, cause him to value highly the approbation of his fellow-men ; for, as Mr. Bain has clearly shewn,20 the love of praise and the strong feeling of glory, and the still stronger horror of scorn and in- famy, " are due to the workings of sympathy." Conse- quently man would be greatly influenced by the wishes, approbation, and blame of his fellow-men, as expressed by their gestures and language. Thus the social in- stincts, which must have been acquired by man in a very rude state, and probably even by his early ape-like progenitors, still give the impulse to many of his best actions ; but his actions are largely determined by the expressed wishes and judgment of his fellow-men, and unfortunately still oftener by his own strong, selfish desires. But as the feelings of love and sympathy and the power of self-command become strengthened by habit, and as the power of reasoning becomes clearer so that man can appreciate the justice of the judgments of his fellow-men, he will feel himself impelled, independ- ently of any pleasure or pain felt at the moment, to certain lines of conduct. He may then say, I am the supreme judge of my own conduct, and in the words of Kant, I will not in my own person violate the dignity of humanity. 20 ' Mental and Moral Science/ 1868, p. 254. Chap. III. MORAL SENSE. 87 The more enduring Social Instincts conquer the less Persistent Instincts. — We have, however, not as yet con- sidered the main point, on which the whole question of the moral sense hinges. Why should a man feel that he ought to obey one instinctive desire rather than another ? Why does he bitterly regret if he has yielded to the strong sense of self-preservation, and has not risked his life to save that of a fellow-creature ; or why does he regret having stolen food from severe hunger? It is evident in the first place, that with mankind the instinctive impulses have different degrees of strength ; a young and timid mother urged by the maternal in- stinct will, without a moment's hesitation, run the greatest danger for her infant, but not for a mere fel- low-creature. Many a man, or even boy, who never before risked his life for another, but in whom courage and sympathy were well developed, has, disregarding the instinct of self-preservation, instantaneously plunged into a torrent to save a drowning fellow-creature. In this case man is impelled by the same instinctive mo- tive, which caused the heroic little American monkey, formerly described, to attack the great and dreaded baboon, to save his keeper. Such actions as the above appear to be the simple result of the greater strength of the social or maternal instincts than of any other instinct or motive ; for they are performed too instantaneously for reflection, or for the sensation of pleasure or pain ; though if prevented distress would be caused. I am aware that some persons maintain that actions performed impulsively, as in the above cases, do not come under the dominion of the moral sense, and cannot be called moral. They confine this term to actions done deliberately, after a victory over opposing desires, or to actions prompted by some lofty motive. But it appears scarcely possible to draw any clear line 88 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. of distinction of this kind ; though the distinction may be real. As far as exalted motives are concerned, many instances have been recorded of barbarians, destitute of any feeling of general benevolence towards mankind, and not guided by any religious motive, who have deli- berately as prisoners sacrificed their lives,21 rather than betray their comrades ; and surely their conduct ought to be considered as moral. As far as deliberation and the victory over opposing motives are concerned, ani- mals may be seen doubting between opposed instincts, as in rescuing their offspring or comrades from dan- ger ; yet their actions, though done for the good of others, are not called moral. Moreover, an action repeatedly performed by us, will at last be done with- out deliberation or hesitation, and can then hardly be distinguished from an instinct ; yet surely no one will pretend that an action thus done ceases to be moral. On the contrary, we all feel that an act cannot be considered as perfect, or as performed in the most noble manner, unless it be done impulsively, without deliberation or effort, in the same manner as by a man in whom the requisite qualities are innate. He who is forced to overcome his fear or want of sym- pathy before he acts, deserves, however, in one way higher credit than the man whose innate disposition leads him to a good act without effort. As we cannot distinguish between motives, we rank all actions of a certain class as moral, when they are performed by a moral being. A moral being is one who is capable of comparing his past and future actions or motives, and of approving or disapproving of them. We have no reason to suppose that any of the lower animals have 21 I have given one such case, namely of three Patagonian Indians who preferred being shot, one after the other, to betraying the plans of their companions in war (, Journal of Researches,' 1845,. p. 103). Chap. III. MORAL SENSE. 89 this capacity ; therefore when a monkey faces danger to rescue its comrade, or takes charge of an orphan- monkey, we do not call its conduct moral. But in the case of man, who alone can with certainty be ranked as a moral being, actions of a certain class are called moral, whether performed deliberately after a struggle with opposing motives, or from the effects of slowly-gained habit, or impulsively through instinct. But to return to our more immediate subject ; al- though some instincts are more powerful than others, thus leading to corresponding actions, yet it cannot be maintained that the social instincts are ordinarily stronger in man, or have become stronger through long-continued habit, than the instincts, for instance, of self-preservation, hunger, lust, vengeance, &c. Why then does man regret, even though he may endeavour to banish any such regret, that he has followed the one natural impulse, rather than the other; and why does he further feel that he ought to regret his conduct ? Man in this respect differs profoundly from the lower animals. Nevertheless we can, I think, see with some degree of clearness the reason of this difference. Man, from the activity of his mental faculties, cannot avoid reflection : past impressions and images are in- cessantly passing through his mind with distinctness. Now with those animals which live permanently in a body, the social instincts are ever present and per- sistent. Such animals are always ready to utter the danger-signal, to defend the community, and to give aid to their fellows in accordance with their habits; they feel at all times, without the stimulus of any special passion or desire, some degree of love and sympathy for them ; they are unhappy if long separated from them, and always happy to be in their company. So it is with ourselves. A man who possessed no trace 90 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. of such feelings would be an unnatural monster. On the other hand, the desire to satisfy hunger, or any passion, such as vengeance, is in its nature temporary, and can for a time be fully satisfied. Nor is it easy, perhaps hardly possible, to call up with complete vivid- ness the feeling, for instance, of himger ; nor indeed, as has often been remarked, of any suffering. The in- stinct of self-preservation is not felt except in the pre- sence of danger ; and many a coward has thought him- self brave until he has met his enemy face to face. The wish for another man's property is perhaps as persistent a desire as any that can be named ; but even in this case the satisfaction of actual possession is gene- rally a weaker feeling than the desire : many a thief, if not an habitual one, after success has wondered why he stole some article. Thus, as man cannot prevent old impressions con- tinually repassing through his mind, he will be com- pelled to compare the weaker impressions of, for in- stance, past hunger, or of vengeance satisfied or danger avoided at the cost of other men, with the instinct of sympathy and good-will to his fellows, which is still pre- sent and ever in some degree active in his mind. He will then feel in his imagination that a stronger instinct has yielded to one which now seems comparatively weak ; and then that sense of dissatisfaction will in- evitably be felt with which man is endowed, like every other animal, in order that his instincts may be obeyed. The case before given, of the swallow, affords an illus- tration, though of a reversed nature, of a temporary though for the time strongly persistent instinct con- quering another instinct which is usually dominant over all others. At the proper season these birds seem all day long to be impressed with the desire to migrate ; their habits change ; they become restless, are noisy, Chap. III. MORAL SENSE. 91 and congregate in flocks. AYhilst the mother-bird is feeding or brooding over her nestlings, the maternal instinct is probably stronger than the migratory ; but the instinct which is more persistent gains the victory, and at last, at a moment when her young ones are not in sight, she takes flight and deserts them. When arrived at the end of her long journey, and the migra- tory instinct ceases to act, what an agony of remorse each bird wrould feel, if, from being endowed with great mental activity, she could not prevent the image con- tinually passing before her mind of her young ones perishing in the bleak north from cold and hunger. At the moment of action, mam will no doubt be apt to follow the stronger impulse ; and though this may occasionally prompt him to the noblest deeds, it will far more commonly lead him to gratify his own desires at the expense of other men. But after their grati- fication, when past and weaker impressions are con- trasted with the ever-enduring social instincts, retri- bution will surely come. Man will then feel dissatis- fied with himself, and will resolve with more or less force to act differently for the future. This is con- science ; for conscience looks backwards and judges past actions, inducing that kind of dissatisfaction, which if weak we call regret, and if severe remorse. These sensations are, no doubt, different from those experienced when other instincts or desires are left unsatisfied; but every unsatisfied instinct has its own proper prompting sensation, as we recognise with hunger, thirst, &c. Man thus prompted, "will through long habit acquire such perfect self-command, that his desires and passions will at last instantly yield to his social sympathies, and there will no longer be a struggle between them. The still hungry, or the still revengeful man will not think of stealing food, or of wreaking his 92 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. vengeance. It is possible, or, as we shall hereafter see, even probable, that the habit of self-command may, like other habits, be inherited. Thus at last man comes to feel, through acquired and perhaps in- herited habit, that it is best for him to obey his more persistent instincts. The imperious word ought seems merely to imply the consciousness of the existence of a persistent instinct, either innate or partly acquired, serving him as a guide, though liable to be disobeyed. We hardly use the word ought in a metaphorical sense, when we say hounds ought to hunt, pointers to point, and retrievers to retrieve their game. If they fail thus to act, they fail in their duty and act wrongly. If any desire or instinct, leading to an action opposed to the good of others, still appears to a man, when re- called to mind, as strong as, or stronger than, his social instinct, he will feel no keen regret at having followed it ; but he will be conscious that if his conduct were known to his fellows, it would meet with their disap- probation ; and few are so destitute of sympathy as not to feel discomfort when this is realised. If he has no such sympathy, and if his desires leading to bad actions are at the time strong, and when recalled are not over- mastered by the persistent social instincts, then he is essentially a bad man ; ffl and the sole restraining motive left is the fear of punishment, and the conviction that in the long run it would be best for his own selfish interests to regard the good of others rather than his own. It is obvious that every one may with an easy con- science gratify his own desires, if they do not interfere 27 Dr. Prosper Despine, in his 'Psychologic Naturelle,' ]868 (torn, i. p. 243 ; torn. ii. p. 169) gives many curious cases of the worst criminals, who apparently have been entirely destitute of conscience. Chap. III. MORAL SENSE. 93 with his social instincts, that is with the good of others ; but in order to be quite free from self-reproach, or at least of anxiety, it is almost necessary for him to avoid the disapprobation, whether reasonable or not, of his fellow men. Nor must he break through the fixed habits of his life, especially if these are supported by reason ; for if he does, he will assuredly feel dissatisfaction. He must likewise avoid the reprobation of the one God or gods, in whom according to his knowledge or superstition he may believe ; but in this case the addi- tional fear of divine punishment often supervenes. The strictly Social Virtues at first alone regarded. — The above view of the first origin and nature of the moral sense, which tells us what we ought to do, and of the conscience which reproves us if we disobey it, accords well with what we see of the early and un- developed condition of this faculty in mankind. The virtues which must be practised, at least generally, by rude men, so that they may associate in a body, are those which are still recognised as the most important. But they are practised almost exclusively in relation to the men of the same tribe ; and their opposites are not regarded as crimes in relation to the men of other tribes. No tribe could hold together if murder, robbery, trea- chery, &c, were common ; consequently such crimes within the limits of the same tribe "are branded " with everlasting infamy ; " ffl but excite no such senti- ment beyond these limits. A North-American Indian is well pleased with himself, and is honoured by others, when he scalps a man of another tribe ; and a Dyak 23 Sec an able article in the ' North British Review,' 1867, p. 395. See also Mr. W. Bagehot's articles on the Importance of Obedience and Coherence to Primitive Man, in the ' Fortnightly Review,' 1867, p. 529, and 1868, p. 457, &c. 94 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Pakt I. cuts off the head of an unoffending person and dries it as a trophy. The murder of infants has prevailed on the largest scale throughout the world,24 and has met with no reproach ; but infanticide, especially of females, has been thought to be good for the tribe, or at least not injurious. Suicide during former times was not generally considered as a crime,25 but rather from the courage displayed as an honourable act ; and it is still largely practised by some semi-civilised nations without reproach, for the loss to a nation of a single individual is not felt : whatever the explanation may be, suicide is rare amongst barbarians ; the negroes on the west coast of Africa offering, however, as I hear from Mr. W. Keade, in this respect an exception. It has been recorded that an Indian Thug conscientiously regretted that he had not strangled and robbed as many travellers as did his father before him. In a rude state of civilisa- tion the robbery of strangers is, indeed, generally con- sidered as honourable. The great sin of Slavery has been almost universal, and slaves have often been treated in an infamous manner. As barbarians do not regard the opinion of their women, wives are commonly treated like slaves. Most savages are utterly indifferent to the sufferings of strangers, or even delight in witnessing them. It is well known that the women and children of the North- American Indians aided in torturing their enemies. Some savages take a horrid pleasure in cruelty to animals,26 and humanity with them is an unknown virtue. Nevertheless, feelings of sympathy and kindness are common, especially 24 The fullest account which I have met with is by Dr. Gerland, in his ' Ueber das Aussterben der Naturvolker,' 1868 ; but I shall have to recur to the subject of infanticide in a future chapter. 25 See the very interesting discussion on Suicide in Lecky's ' History of European Morals,' vol. i. 1869, p. 223. 26 See, for instance, Mr. Hamilton's account of the Kaffirs, ' Anthro- pological Review/ 1870, p. xv. Chap. III. MORAL SENSE. 95 during sickness, between the members of the same tribe, and are sometimes extended beyond the limits of the tribe. Mungo Park's touching account of the kindness of the negro women of the interior to him is well known. Many instances could be given of the noble fidelity of savages towards each other, but not to strangers; common experience justifies the maxim of the Spaniard, "Never, never trust an Indian." There cannot be fidelity without truth ; and this fundamental virtue is not rare between the members of the same tribe : thus Mungo Park heard the negro women teaching their young children to love the truth. This, again, is one of the virtues which becomes so deeply rooted in the mind that it is sometimes practised by savages even at a high cost, towards strangers ; but to lie to your enemy has rarely been thought a sin, as the history of modern diplomacy too plainly shews. As soon as a tribe has a recognised leader, disobedience becomes a crime, and even abject submission is looked at as a sacred virtue. As during rude times no man can be useful or faithful to his tribe without courage, this quality has universally been placed in the highest rank; and although, in civilised countries, a good, yet timid, man may be far more useful to the community than a brave one, we cannot help instinctively honouring the latter above a coward, however benevolent. Prudence, on the other hand, which does not concern the welfare of others, though a very useful virtue, has never been highly esteemed. As no man can practise the virtues necessary for the welfare of his tribe without ^self-sacrifice, self- command, and the power of endurance, these qualities have been at all times highly and most justly valued. The American savage voluntarily submits without a groan to the most horrid tortures to prove and strengthen his fortitude and courage ; and we cannot 96 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. help admiring him, or even an Indian Fakir, who, from a foolish religious motive, swings suspended by a hook buried in his flesh. The other self-regarding virtues, which do not ob- viously, though they may really, affect the welfare of the tribe, have never been esteemed by savages, though now highly appreciated by civilised nations. The greatest intemperance with savages is no reproach. Their utter licentiousness, not to mention unnatural crimes, is something astounding.27 As soon, however, as marriage, whether polygamous or monogamous, becomes common, jealousy will lead to the inculcation of female virtue ; and this being honoured will tend to spread to the unmarried females. How slowly it spreads to the male sex we see at the present day. Chastity eminently requires self-command ; therefore it has been honoured from a very early period in the moral history of civilised man. As a consequence of this, the senseless practice of celibacy has been ranked from a remote period as a virtue.28 The hatred of indecency, which appears to us so natural as to be thought innate, and which is so valuable an aid to chastity, is a modern virtue, apper- taining exclusively, as Sir G. Staunton remarks,29 to civilised life. This is shewn by the ancient religious rites of various nations, by the drawings on the walls of Pompeii, and by the practices of many savages. We have now seen that actions are regarded by savages, and were probably so regarded by primeval man, as good or bad, solely as they affect in an obvious manner the welfare of the tribe, — not that of the species, nor that of man as an individual member of the 27 Mr. M'Lennan has given ('Primitive Marriage,' 1865, p. 176) a good collection of facts on this head. Lecky, ' History of European Morals,' vol. i. 1869, p. 109. 29 'Embassy to China,' vol. ii. p. 348. 28 Chap. III. MOKAL SENSE. 97 tribe. This conclusion agrees well with the belief that the so-called moral sense is aboriginally derived from the social instincts, for both relate at first exclusively to the community. The chief causes of the low morality of savages, as judged by our standard, are, firstly, the confinement of sympathy to the same tribe. Secondly, insufficient powers of reasoning, so that the bearing of many virtues, especially of the self-regarding virtues, on the general welfare of the tribe is not recognised. Savages, for instance, fail to trace the multiplied evils consequent on a want of temperance, chastity, &c. And, thirdly, weak power of self-command; for this power has not been strengthened through long-con- tinued, perhaps inherited, habit, instruction and religion. I have entered into the above details on the immor- ality of savages,30 because some authors have recently taken a high view of their moral nature, or have attri- buted most of their crimes to mistaken benevolence.31 These authors appear to rest their conclusion on savages possessing, as they undoubtedly do possess, and often in a high degree, those virtues which are serviceable, or even necessary, for the existence of a tribal com- munity. Concluding Remarks. — Philosophers of the derivative32 school of morals formerly assumed that the foundation of morality lay in a form of Selfishness ; but more recently in the " Greatest Happiness principle." Ac- cording to the view given above, the moral sense is 30 See on this subject copious evidence in Chap. vii. of Sir J. Lubbock, ' Origin of Civilisation,' 1870. 31 For instance Lecky, ' Hist. European Morals,' vol. i. p. 124. 32 This term is used in an able article in the ' Westminister Eeview,' Oct. 1S69, p. 498. For the Greatest Happiness principle, see J. S. Mill, ' Utilitarianism,' p. 17. VOL. I. H 98 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I- fundamentally identical with the social instincts; and in the case of the lower animals it would be absurd to speak of these instincts as having been developed from selfishness, or for the happiness of the community. They have, however, certainly been developed for the general good of the community. The term, general good, may be defined as the means by which the great- est possible number of individuals can be reared in full vigour and. health, with all their faculties perfect, under the conditions to which they are exposed. As the social instincts both of man and the lower animals have no doubt been developed by the same steps, it would be advisable, if found practicable, to use the same definition in both cases, and to take as the test of morality, the general good or welfare of the com- munity, rather than the general happiness ; but this definition would perhaps require some limitation on account of political ethics. When a man risks his life to save that of a fellow- creature, it seems more appropriate to say that he acts for the general good or welfare, rather than for the general happiness of mankind. No doubt the welfare and the happiness of the individual usually coincide ; and a contented, happy tribe will flourish better than one that is discontented and unhappy. We have seen that at an early period in the history of man, the ex- pressed wishes of the community will have naturally influenced to a large extent the conduct of each mem- ber ; and as all wish for happiness, the " greatest happi- ness principle" will have become a most important secondary guide and object ; the social instincts, includ- ing sympathy, always serving as the primary impulse and guide. Thus the reproach of laying the foundation of the most noble part of our nature in the base prin- ciple of selfishness is removed ; unless indeed the satis- Chap. III. MORAL SENSE. 99 faction which every animal feels when it follows its proper instincts, and the dissatisfaction felt when pre- vented, be called selfish. The expression of the wishes and judgment of the members of the same community, at first by oral and afterwards by written language, serves, as just re- marked, as a most important secondary guide of conduct, in aid of the social instincts, but sometimes in opposition to them. This latter fact is well exem- plified by the Law of Honour, that is the law of the opinion of our equals, and not of all our country- men. The breach of this law, even when the breach is known to be strictly accordant with true mo- rality, has caused many a man more agony than a real crime. We recognise the same influence in the burn- ing sense of shame which most of us have felt even after the interval of years, when calling to mind some accidental breach of a trifling though fixed rule of eti- quette. The judgment of the community will generally be guided by some rude experience of what is best in the long run for all the members ; but this judgment will not rarely err from ignorance and from weak powers of reasoning. Hence the strangest customs and super- stitions, in complete opposition to the true welfare and happiness of mankind, have become all-powerful through- out the world. We see this in the horror felt by a Hindoo who breaks his caste, in the shame of a Maho- metan woman who exposes her face, and in innumerable other instances. It would be difficult to distinguish between the remorse felt by a Hindoo who has eaten unclean food, from that felt after committing a theft; but the former would probably be the more severe. How so many absurd rules of conduct, as well as so many absurd religious beliefs, have originated we do not know ; nor how it is that they have become, in all h 2 100 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. quarters of the world, so deeply impressed on the mind of men ; but it is worthy of remark that a belief con- stantly inculcated during the early years of life, whilst the brain is impressible, appears to acquire almost the nature of an instinct ; and the very essence of an in- stinct is that it is followed independently of reason. Neither can Ave say why certain admirable virtues, such as the love of truth, are much more highly appre- ciated by some savage tribes than by others ; ^ nor, again, why similar differences prevail even amongst civilised nations. Knowing how firmly fixed many strange customs and superstitions have become, we need feel no surprise that the self-regarding virtues should now appear to us so natural, supported as they are by reason, as to be thought innate, although they were not valued by man in his early condition. Notwithstanding many sources of doubt, man can generally and readily distinguish between the higher and lower moral rules. The higher are founded on the social instincts, and relate to the welfare of others. They are supported by the approbation of our fellow- men and by reason. The lower rules, though some of them when implying self-sacrifice hardly deserve to be called lower, relate chiefly to self, and' owe their origin to public opinion, when matured by experience and cultivated ; for they are not practised by rude tribes. As man advances in civilisation, and small tribes are united into larger communities, the simplest reason would tell each individual that he ought to extend his social instincts and sympathies to all the members of the same nation, though personally unknown to him. This point being once reached, there is only an arti- 83 Good instances are given by Mr. Wallace in ' Scientific Opinion,' Sept. 15, 1869 ; and more fully in his ' Contributions to the Theory of Natural Selection,' 1S70, p. 353. Chap. III. MORAL SENSE. 101 fieial barrier to prevent his sympathies extending to the men of all nations and races. If, indeed, such men are separated from him by great differences in appearance or habits, experience unfortunately shews us how long it is before we look at them as our fellow-creatures. Sympathy beyond the confines of man, that is humanity to the lower animals, seems to be one of the latest moral acquisitions. It is apparently unfelt by savages, except towards their pets. How little the old Romans knew of it is shewn by their abhorrent gladiatorial exhibitions. The very idea of humanity, as far as I could observe, was new to most of the G-auchos of the Pampas. This virtue, one of the noblest with which man is endowed, seems to arise incidentally from our sympathies becoming more tender and more widely dif- fused, until they are extended to all sentient beings. As soon as this virtue is honoured and practised by some few men, it spreads through instruction and example to the young, and eventually through public opinion. The highest stage in moral culture at which we can arrive, is when we recognise that we ought to control our thoughts, and " not even in inmost thought to think " again the sins that made the past so pleasant to us."34 Whatever makes any bad action familiar to the mind, renders its performance by so much the easier. As Marcus Aurelius long ago said, " Such as are thy habi- " tual thoughts, such also will be the character of thy " mind; for the soul is dyed by the thoughts."35 Our great philosopher, Herbert Spencer, has recently explained his views on the moral sense. He says,36 " I 34 Tennyson, ■ Idylls of the King,' p. 244. /CW ^ 35 'The Thoughts of the Emperor M. Aurelius Anton h^u^Enp S hf( translat., 2nd edit., 186'.', p. 112. Marcus Aurelius was boynQS). fl£l . 36 Letter to Mr. Mill in Bain's 'Mental and Moral S/igte^lSD^ P. 722. 'UBR<- &\ N4» ■* -i 102 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. " believe that the experiences of utility organised and " consolidated through all past generations of the human " race, have been producing corresponding modifications, " which, by continued transmission and accumulation, " have become in us certain faculties of moral intuition — " certain emotions responding to right and wrong con- " duct, which have no apparent basis in the individual " experiences of utility." There is not the least inhe- rent improbability, as it seems to me, in virtuous ten- dencies being more or less strongly inherited ; for, not to mention the various dispositions and habits trans- mitted by many of our domestic animals, I have heard of cases in which a desire to steal and a tendency to lie appeared to run in families of the upper ranks; and as stealing is so rare a crime in the wealthy classes, we can hardly account by accidental coincidence for the tendency occurring in two or three members of the same family. If bad tendencies are transmitted, it is probable that good ones are likewise transmitted. Ex- cepting through the principle of the transmission of moral tendencies, we cannot understand the differences believed to exist in this respect between the various races of mankind. We have, however, as yet, hardly sufficient evidence on this head. Even the partial transmission of virtuous tendencies would be an immense assistance to the primary impulse derived directly from the social instincts, and indirectly from the approbation of our fellow-men. Admitting for the moment that virtuous tendencies are inherited, it appears probable, at least in such cases as chastity, temperance, humanity to animals, &c, that they become first impressed on the mental organisation through habit, instruction, and example, continued during several generations in the same family, and in a quite subor- dinate degree, or not at all, by the individuals pos- Chap. III. MORAL SENSE. 103 sessing such virtues, having succeeded best in the struggle for life. My chief source of doubt with respect to any such inheritance, is that senseless customs, super- stitions, and tastes, such as the horror of a Hindoo for unclean food, ought on the same principle to be trans- mitted. Although this in itself is perhaps not less pro- bable than that animals should acquire inherited tastes for certain kinds of food or fear of certain foes, I have not met with any evidence in support of the trans- mission of superstitious customs or senseless habits. Finally, the social instincts which no doubt were acquired by man, as by the lower animals, for the good of the community, will from the first have given to him some wish to aid his fellows, and some feeling of sym- pathy. Such impulses will have served him at a very early period as a rude rule of right and wrong. But as man gradually advanced in intellectual power and was enabled to trace the more remote consequences of his actions; as he acquired sufficient knowledge to reject baneful customs and superstitions ; as he regarded more and more not only the welfare but the happi- ness of his fellow-men ; as from habit, following on beneficial experience, instruction, and example, his sympathies became more tender and widely diffused, so as to extend to the men of all races, to the im- becile, the maimed, and other useless members of society, and finally to the lower animals, — so would the standard of his morality rise higher and higher. And it is admitted by moralists of the derivative school and by some intuitionists, that the standard of morality has risen since an early period in the history of man.37 As a struggle may sometimes be seen going on 37 A writer in the 'North British Keview' (July, 1869, p. 531), well capable of forming a sound judgment, expresses himself strongly to this 104 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. between the various instincts of the lower animals, it is not surprising that there should be a struggle in man between his social instincts, with their derived virtues, and his lower, though at the moment, stronger impulses or desires. This, as Mr. Galton 38 has remarked, is all the less surprising, as man has emerged from a state of barbarism within a comparatively recent period. After having yielded to some temptation we feel a sense of dissatisfaction, analogous to that felt from other un- satisfied instincts, called in this case conscience ; for we cannot prevent past images and impressions continually passing through our minds, and these in their weakened state we compare with the ever-present social instincts, or with habits gained in early youth and strengthened during our whole lives, perhaps inherited, so that they are at last rendered almost as strong as instincts. Looking to future generations, there is no cause to fear that the social instincts will grow weaker, and we may expect that virtuous habits will grow stronger, becoming perhaps fixed by inheritance. In this case the struggle between our higher and lower impulses will be less severe, and virtue will be triumphant. Summary of the two last Chapters. — There can be no doubt that the difference between the mind of the lowest man and that of the highest animal is immense. An anthropomorphous ape, if he could take a dispassionate view of his own case, would admit that though he could form an artful plan to plunder a garden — though he could use stones for fighting or for breaking open nuts, effect. Mr. Lecky (' Hist, of Morals,' vol. i. p. 143) seems to a certain extent to coincide. 38 See his remarkable work on ' Hereditary Genius,' 1SG9, p. 349. The Duke of Argyll ('Primeval Man,' 1869, p. 188) lias some good remarks on the contest in man's nature between right and wrong. Chap. III. SUMMARY. 105 yet that the thought of fashioning a stone into a tool was quite beyond his scope. Still less, as he would admit, could he follow out a train of metaphysical reasouing, or solve a mathematical problem, or reflect on God, or admire a grand natural scene. Some apes, however, would probably declare that they could and did admire the beauty of the coloured skin and fur of their partners in marriage. They would admit, that though they could make other apes understand by cries some of their perceptions and simpler wants, the notion of expressing definite ideas by definite sounds had never crossed their minds. They might insist that they were ready to aid their fellow-apes of the same troop in many ways, to risk their lives for them, and to take charge of their orphans ; but they would be forced to acknowledge that disinterested love for all living crea- tures, the most noble attribute of man, was quite be- yond their comprehension. Nevertheless the difference in mind between man and the higher animals, great as it is, is certainly one of degree and not of kind. We have seen that the senses and intuitions, the various emotions and faculties, such as love, memory, attention, curiosity, imitation, reason, &c, of which man boasts, may be found in an incipient, or even sometimes in a well-developed con- dition, in the lower animals. They are also capable of some inherited improvement, as we see in the domestic dog compared with the wolf or jackal. If it be main- tained that certain powers, such as self-consciousness, abstraction, &c, are peculiar to man, it may well be that these are the incidental results of other highly- advanced intellectual faculties; and these again are mainly the result of the continued use of a highly developed language. At what age does the new-born infant possess the power of abstraction, or become self- 106 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. conscious and reflect on its own existence ? We cannot answer ; nor can we answer in regard to the ascending organic scale. The half-art and half-instinct of lan- guage still bears the stamp of its gradual evolution. The ennobling belief in God is not universal with man ; and the belief in active spiritual agencies naturally fol- lows from his other mental powers. The moral sense perhaps affords the best and highest distinction between man and the lower animals ; but I need not say any- thing on this head, as I have so lately endeavoured to shew that the social instincts, — the prime principle of man's moral constitution39 — with the aid of active intellectual powers and the effects of habit, naturally lead to the golden rule, " As ye would that men should " do to you, do ye to them likewise ; " and this lies at the foundation of morality. In a future chapter I shall make some few remarks on the probable steps and means by which the several mental and moral faculties of man have been gradually evolved. That this at least is possible ought not to be denied, when we daily see their development in every infant ; and when we may trace a perfect grada- tion from the mind of an utter idiot, lower than that of the lowest animal, to the mind of a Newton. 39 < The Thoughts of Marcus Aurelius,' &c, p. 139. Chap. IV. MANNER OF DEVELOPMENT. 107 CHAPTEE IV. On the Manner of Development of Man from some lower Form. Variability of body and mind in man — Inheritance — Causes of variability — Laws of variation the same in man as in the lower animals — Direct action of the conditions of life — Effects of the increased use and disuse of parts — Arrested development — Re- version— Correlated variation — Rate of increase — Checks to increase — Natural selection — Man the most dominant animal in the world — Importance of his corporeal structure — The causes which have led to his becoming erect — Consequent changes of structure — Decrease in size of the canine teeth — Increased size and altered shape of the skull — Nakedness — AbseDce of a tail — Defenceless condition of man. We have seen in the first chapter that the home-logical structure of man, his embryological development and the rudiments which he still retains, all declare in the plainest manner that he is descended from some lower form. The possession of exalted mental powers is no insuperable objection to this conclusion. In order that an ape-like creature should have been transformed into man, it is necessary that this early form, as well as many successive links, should all have varied in mind and body. It is impossible to obtain direct evidence on this head; but if it can.be shewn that man now varies — that his variations are induced by the same general causes, and obey the same general laws, as in the case of the lower animals — there can be little doubt that the preceding intermediate links varied in a like maimer. The variations at each successive stage of descent must, also, have been in some manner accumu- lated and fixed. 108 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. The facts and conclusions to be given in this chapter relate almost exclusively to the probable means by which the transformation of man has been effected, as far as his bodily structure is concerned. The fol- lowing chapter will be devoted to the development of his intellectual and moral faculties. But the present discussion likewise bears on the origin of the different races or species of mankind, whichever term may be preferred. It is manifest that man is now subject to much variability. No two individuals of the same race are quite alike. We may compare millions of faces, arid each will be distinct. There is an equally great amount of diversity in the proportions and dimensions of the various parts of the body ; the length of the legs being one of the most variable points.1 Although in some quarters of the world an elongated skull, and in other quarters a short skull prevails, yet there is great diversity of shape even within the limits of the same race, as with the aborigines of America and South Australia, — the latter a race "probably as pure and " homogeneous in blood, customs, and language as any " in existence " — and even with the inhabitants of so confined an area as the Sandwich. Islands.2 An emi- nent dentist assures me that there is nearly as much diversity in the teeth, as in the features. The chief arteries so frequently run in abnormal courses, that it has been found useful for surgical purposes to calculate 1 ' Investigations in Military and Anthropolog. Statistics of American Soldiers,' by B. A. Gould. 1869, p. 256. 2 With respect to the " Cranial forms of the American aborigines," see Dr. Aitktn Meigs in ' Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci.' Philadelphia, May, 1866. On the Australians, see Huxley, in Lyell's ' Anticpiiity of Man,' 1863, p. 87. On the Sandwich Islanders, Prof. J. Wyinan, ' Observa- tions on Crania,' Boston, 1868, p. 18. Chap. IV. MANNEE OF DEVELOPMENT. 1 09 from 12,000 corpses how often each course prevails.3 The muscles are eminently variable : thus those of the foot were found by Prof. Turner4 not to be strictly alike in any two out of fifty bodies ; and in some the deviations were considerable. Prof. Turner adds that the power of performing the appropriate movements must have been modified in accordance with the several deviations. Mr. J. Wood has recorded 5 the occurrence of 295 muscular variations in thirty-six subjects, and in another set of the same number no less than 558 varia- tions, reckoning both sides of the body as one. In the last set, not one body out of the thirty-six was " found " totally wanting in departures from the standard de- " scriptions of the muscular system given in anatomical " text-books." A single body presented the extraordi- nary number of twenty-five distinct abnormalities. The same muscle sometimes varies in many ways : thus Prof. Macalister describes 6 no less than twenty distinct variations in the palmaris accessorius. The famous old anatomist, Wolff,7 insists that the internal viscera are more variable than the external parts: Nulla particula est quw non aliter et aliier in aliis se habeat hominibus. He has even written a treatise on the choice of typical examples of the viscera for representation. A discussion on the beau-ideal of the liver, lungs, kidneys, &c, as of the human face divine, sounds strange in our ears. The variability or diversity of the mental faculties in men of the same race, not to mention the greater 3 ' Anatomy of the Arteries,' by E. Quain. 4 ' Transact. Eoyal Soc.' Edinburgh, vol. xxiv. p. 1.75, 189. 5 * Proc, Eoyal Soc.' 1867, p. 544 ; also 1868, p. 483, 524. There is a previous paper, 1866, p. 229. 6 ' Proc. E. Irish Academy,' vol. x. 1868, p. 141. 7 ' Act. Acad.,' St. Petersburg, 1778, part ii. p. 217. 110 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. differences between the men of distinct races, is so notorious that not a word need here be said. So it is with the lower animals, as has been illustrated by a few examples in the last chapter. All who have had charge of menageries admit this fact, and we see it plainly in our dogs and other domestic animals. Brehm especially insists that each individual monkey of those which he kept under confinement in Africa had its own peculiar disposition and temper : he mentions one baboon remarkable for its high intelligence ; and the keepers in the Zoological Gardens pointed out to me a monkey, belonging to the New World division, equally remark- able for intelligence. Eengger, also, insists on the di- versity in the various mental characters of the monkeys of the same species which he kept in Paraguay; and this diversity, as he adds, is partly innate, and partly the result of the manner in which they have been treated or educated.8 I have elsewhere 9 so fully discussed the subject of Inheritance that I need here add hardly anything. A greater number of facts have been collected with respect to the transmission of the most trifling, as well as of the most important characters in man than in any of the lower animals ; though the facts are copious enough with respect to the latter. So in regard to mental qualities, their transmission is manifest in our dogs, horses, and other domestic animals. Besides special tastes and habits, general intelligence, courage, bad and good temper, &c, are certainly transmitted. With man we see similar facts in almost every famil}r ; and we 8 Brehm, ' Thierleben,' B. i. s. 58, 87. Piengger, ' S'augethiere von Paraguay,' s. 57. 9 k Variation of Animals and Plants under Domestication,' vol. ii. chap. xii. Chap. IV. MANNEK OF DEVELOPMENT. Ill now know through the admirable labours of Mr. G-alton 10 that genius, which implies a wonderfully complex com- bination of high faculties, tends to be inherited ; and, on the other hand, it is too certain that insanity and deteriorated mental powers likewise run in the same families. With respect to the causes of variability we are in all cases very ignorant ; but we can see that in man as in the lower animals, they staud in some relation with the conditions to which each species has been exposed during several generations. Domesticated animals vary more than those in a state of nature ; and this is appa- rently due to the diversified and changing nature of their conditions. The different races of man resemble in this respect domesticated animals, and so do the individuals of the same race when inhabiting a very wide area, like that of America. We see the influence of diversified conditions in the more civilised nations, the members of which belong to different grades of rank and follow different occupations, presenting a greater range of character than the members of barbarous nations. But the uniformity of savages has often been exaggerated, and in some cases can hardly be said to exist.11 It is nevertheless an error to speak of man, even if we look only to the conditions to which he has been subjected, as " far more domesticated " 12 than 10 ' Hereditary Genius : an Inquiry into its Laws and Consequences,' 1869. 11 Mr. Bates remarks (' The Naturalist on the Amazons,' 18G3, vol. ii. p. 159 , with respect to the Indians of the same S. American tribe, '* no two of them were at all similar in the shape of the head; one " man had an oval visage with fine features, and another was quite '; Mongolian in breadth and prominence of cheek, spread of nostrils, " aud obliquity of eyes." 12 Blumenbach, ' Treatises on Anthropolog.' Eng. translat., 1865, p. 205. 112 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. any other animal. Some savage races, such as the Australians, are not exposed to more diversified con- ditions than are many species which have very wide ranges. In another and much more important re- spect, man differs widely from any strictly domesti- cated animal ; for his breeding has not been controlled, either through methodical or unconscious selection. No race or body of men has been so completely subjugated by other men, that certain individuals have been pre- served and thus unconsciously selected, from being in some way more useful to their masters. Nor have certain male and female individuals been intentionally picked out and matched, except in the well-known case of the Prussian grenadiers ; and in this case man obeyed, as might have been expected, the law of me- thodical selection ; for it is asserted that many tall men were reared in the villages inhabited by the grenadiers with their tall wives. If we consider all the races of man, as forming a single species, his range is enormous ; but some separate races, as the Americans and Polynesians, have very wide ranges. It is a well-known law that widely-ranging species are much more variable than species with re- stricted ranges ; and the variability of man may with more truth be compared with that of widely-ranging species, than with that of domesticated animals. Not only does variability appear to be induced in man and the knver animals by the same general causes, but in both the same characters are affected in a closely analogous manner. This has been proved in such full detail by Godron and Quatrefages, that I need here only refer to their works.13 Monstrosities, wrhich gra- 13 Godron, ' De l'Espece,' 1859, tom. ii. livre 3. Quatrefages, ' Unite de l'Espece Humaine,' 1861. Also Lectures on Anthropology, given in the ' Eevue des Cours Scientifiques,' 18G6-1SG8. Chap. IV. MANNER OF DEVELOPMENT. 113 duate into slight variations, are likewise so similar in man and the lower animals, that the same classifica- tion and the same terms can be used for both, as may be seen in Isidore Geoffroy St.-Hilaire's great work.14 This is a necessary consequence of the same laws of change prevailing throughout the animal kingdom. In my work on the variation of domestic animals, I have attempted to arrange in a rude fashion the laws of variation under the following heads : — The direct and definite action of changed conditions, as shewn by all or nearly all the individuals of the same species varying in the same manner under the same circumstances. The effects of the long-continued use or disuse of parts. The cohesion of homologous parts. The vari- ability of multiple parts. Compensation of growth ; but of this law I have found no good instances in the case of man. The effects of the mechanical pressure of one part on another ; as of the pelvis on the cranium of the infant in the womb. Arrests of development, leading to the diminution or suppression of parts. The reappearance of long-lost characters through reversion. And lastly, correlated variation. All these so-called laws apply equally to man and the lower animals ; and most of them even to plants. It would be superfluous here to discuss all of them ; 15 but several are so im- portant for us, that they must be treated at consider- able length. The direct and definite action of changed conditions. — This is a most perplexing subject. It- cannot be denied 14 ' Hist. Gen. et Part, des Anomalies de 1' Organisation,' in three volumes, torn. i. 1832. 15 I have fully discussed these laws in my 'Variation of Animals and Plants under Domestication,' vol. ii. chap. xxii. and xxiii. M. J. P. Durand has lately (1868) published a valuable essay ' Do l'lnfluence des Milieux, &c.' He lays much stress on the nature of the soil. VOL I. I 114 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. that changed conditions produce some effect, and occa- sionally a considerable effect, on organisms of all kinds ; and it seems at first probable that if sufficient time were allowed this would be the invariable result. But I have failed to obtain clear evidence in favour of this conclusion ; and valid reasons may be urged on the other side, at least as far as the innumerable structures are concerned, which are adapted for special ends. There can, however, be no doubt that changed condi- tions induce an almost indefinite amount of fluctuating variability, by which the whole organisation is rendered in some degree plastic. In the United States, above 1,000,000 soldiers, who served in the late war, were measured, and the States in which they were born and reared recorded.16 From this astonishing number of observations it is proved that local influences of some kind act directly on stature ; and we further learn that " the State where the physical " growth has in great measure taken place, and the State " of birth, which indicates the ancestry, seem to exert '•' a marked influence on the stature." For instance it is established, " that residence in the Western States, " during the years of growth, tends to produce increase " of stature." On the other band, it is certain that with sailors, their manner of life delays growth, as shewn " by " the great difference between the statures of soldiers and " sailors at the ages of 17 and 18 years." Mr. B. A. Gould endeavoured to ascertain the nature of the influences which thus act on stature ; but he arrived only at nega- tive results, namely, that they did not relate to climate, the elevation of the land, soil, nor even " in any con- u trolling degree " to the abundance or need of the com- 1(5 ' Investigations in Military and Anthrop. Statistics,' &c. 1869, by B. A. Gould, p. 93, 107, 126, 131, 131. CiiAP. IV. MANNER OF DEVELOPMENT. 115 forts of life. This latter conclusion is directly opposed to that arrived at by Yillerme from the statistics of the height of the conscripts in different parts of France. When we compare the differences in stature between the Polynesian chiefs and the lower orders within the same islands, or between the inhabitants of the fertile volcanic and low barren coral islands of the same ocean,17 or again between the Fuegians on the eastern and western shores of their country, where the means of subsistence are very different, it is scarcely possible to avoid the conclusion that better food and greater comfort do in- fluence stature. But the preceding statements shew how difficult it is to arrive at any precise result. Dr. Beddoe has lately proved that, with the inhabitants of Britain, residence in towns and certain occupations have a deteriorating influence on height ; and he infers that the result is to a certain extent inherited, as is likewise the case in the United States. Dr. Beddoe further believes that wherever a " race attains its maximum of " physical development, it rises highest in energy and " moral vigour."18 Whether external conditions produce any other direct effect on man is not known. It might have been expected that differences of climate would have had a marked influence, as the lungs and kidneys are brought into fuller activity under a low temperature, and the liver and skin under a high one.19 It was former! v thought that the colour of the skin and the character 17 For the Polynesians, see Pricharcl's ' Physical Hist, of Mankind,' vol. v. 1847, p. 145, 283. Also Godron, < De "l'Espece,' torn. ii. p. 289. There is also a remarkable difference in appearance between the closely- allied Hindoos inhabiting the Upper Ganges and Bengal ; see Elphin- stone's ' History of India,' vol. i. p. 324. 18 * Memoirs, Anthropolog. Soc.' vol. id. 1867-69, p. 561, 565, 567. 10 Dr. Brakenridge, ' Theory of Diathesis,' ' Medical Times,' June 19 and July 17, 1869. I 2 116 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I . of the hair were determined by light or heat ; and although it can hardly be denied that some effect is thus produced, almost all observers now agree that the effect has been very small, even after exposure during many ages. But this subject will be more properly discussed when Ave treat of the different races of man- kind. With our domestic animals there are grounds for believing that cold and damp directly affect the growth of the hair ; but I have not met with any evi- dence on this head in the case of man. Effects of the increased Use and Disuse of Parts. — It is well known that use strengthens the muscles in the individual, and complete disuse, or the destruction of the proper nerve, weakens them. When the eye is destroyed the optic nerve often becomes atrophied. When an artery is tied, the lateral channels increase not only in diameter, but in the thickness and strength of their coats. When one kidney ceases acting from disease, the other increases in size and does double work. Bones increase not only in thickness, but in length, from carrying a greater weight.20 Different occupations habitually followed lead to changed pro- portions in various parts of the body. Thus it was clearly ascertained by the United States Commission21 that the legs of the sailors employed in the late war were longer by 0*217 of an inch than those of the sol- diers, though the sailors were on an average shorter men ; whilst their arms were shorter by 1*09 of an inch, and therefore out of proportion shorter in relation to 20 I have given authorities for these several statements in my 'Varia- tion of Animals under Domestication,' vol. ii. p. 297-300. Dr. Jaeger, " Ueber das Langenwachsthum der Knochen," ' Jenaischen Zeitschrift,' B. v. Heft i. 21 ' Investigations,' &c. By B. A. Gould, 1869, p. 288. Chap. IV. MANNER OF DEVELOPMENT. 117 their lesser height. This shortness of the arms is apparently due to their greater use, and is an un- expected result; but sailors chieily use their arms in pulling and not in supporting weights. The girth of the neck and the depth of the instep are greater, whilst the circumference of the chest, waist, and hips is less in sailors than in soldiers. Whether the several foresfoins: modifications would become hereditary, if the same habits of life were fol- lowed during many generations, is not known, but is probable. Rengger22 attributes the thin legs and thick arms of the Payaguas Indians to successive generations having passed nearly their whole lives in canoes, with their lower extremities motionless. Other writers have come to a similar conclusion in other analogous cases. According to Cranz,23 who lived for a long time with the Esquimaux, " the natives believe that ingenuity and " dexterity in seal-catching (their highest art and virtue) " is hereditary ; there is really something in it, for the " son of a celebrated seal-catcher will distinguish him- " self though he lost his father in childhood." But in this case it is mental aptitude, quite as much as bodily structure, which appears to be inherited. It is asserted that the hands of English labourers are at birth larger than those of the gentry.24 From the correlation which exists, at least in some cases,25 between the development of the extremities and of the jaws, it is possible that in those classes which do not labour much with their hands and feet, the jaws would be reduced in size from this cause. That they are generally -smaller in refined and civilised men than in hard-working men or savages, 22 * S'augetkiere yon Paraguay,' 1830, s. 4. 23 ' History of Greenland,' Eng. translat. 1767, vol. i. p. 230. 24 ' Intermarriage.' By Alex. Walker, 1838, p. 377. 25 ' The Variation of Animals under Domestication,' vol. i. p. 173. 118 THE DESCENT OF MAN. Part I. 26 is certain. But with savages, as Mr. Herbert Spencer has remarked, the greater use of the jaws in chewing coarse, uncooked food, would act in a direct manner on the masticatory muscles and on the bones to which they are attached. In infants long before birth, the skin on the soles of the feet is thicker than on any other part of the body;27 and it can hardly be doubted that this is due to the inherited effects of pressure during a long series of generations. It is familiar to every one that watchmakers and en- gravers are liable to be short-sighted, whilst men living much out of doors, and especially savages, are generally long-sighted. Short-sight and long-sight certainly tend to be inherited.28 The inferiority of Europeans, in com- parison with savages, in eye-sight and in the other senses, is no doubt the accumulated and transmitted effect of lessened use during many generations; for Eengger29 states that he has repeatedly observed Euro- peans, who had been brought up and spent their whole lives with the wild Indians, who nevertheless did not equal them in the sharpness of their senses. The same naturalist observes that the cavities in the skull for the reception of the several sense-organs are larger in the American aborigines than in Europeans ; and this no doubt indicates a corresponding difference in the dimensions of the organs themselves. Blumenbach has also remarked on the large size of the nasal cavities 26 ( Principles of Biology,' vol. i. p. 455. 27 Paget, ' Lectures on Surgical Pathology,' vol. ii. 1853, p. 209. 2S ' The Variation of Animals under Domestication,' vol. i. p. 8. 29 ' Saugethiere von Paraguay,' s. 8, 10. I have had good oppor- tunities for observing the extraordinary power of eyesight in the Fuegians. See also Lawrence (' Lectures on Physiology,' &c, 1822, p. 404) on this same subject. M. Giraud-Teulon has recently collected (' Ptevue des Cours Scientifiques,' 1870, p. 625) a large and valuable body of evidence proving that the cause of short-sight, " C'est le travail " assidu, de pres.' Chap. IV. MANNER OF DEVELOPMENT. 119 in the skulls of the American aborigines, and connects this fact with their remarkably acute power of smell. The Mongolians of the plains of Northern Asia, according to Pallas, have wonderfully perfect senses ; and Prichard believes that the great breadth of their skulls across the zygomas follows from their highly-developed sense- organs.30 The Quechua Indians inhabit the lofty plateaux of Peru, and Alcide d'Orbismv states31 that from con- tinually breathing a highly rarefied atmosphere they have acquired chests and lungs of extraordinary dimen- sions. The cells, also, of the lungs are larger and more numerous than in Europeans. These observations have been doubted ; but Mr. D. Forbes carefully measured many Aymaras, an allied race, living at the height of between ten and fifteen thousand feet ; and he informs me 32 that they differ conspicuously from the men of all other races seen by him, in the circum- ference and length of their bodies. In his table of measurements, the stature of each man is taken at 1000, and the other measurements are reduced to this standard. It is here seen that the extended arms of the Aymaras are shorter than those of Europeans, and much shorter than those of Negroes. The legs are likewise shorter, and they present this remarkable pecu- liarity, that in every Aymara measured the femur is actually shorter than the tibia. On an average the length of the femur to that of the tibia is as 211 to 252 ; whilst in two Europeans measured at the same 30 Prichard, 'Phys. Hist, of Mankind,' on the authority of Blurnen- bach, vol. i. 1851, p. 311 ; for the statement by Pallas, vol. iv. 1844, p. 407. 31 Quoted by Prichard, ' Eesearches into the Phys. Hist, of Man- kind,' vol. v. p. 463. 32 Mr. Forbes' valuable paper is now published in the ' Journal of the Ethnological Soc. of London,' new series, vol. ii. 1870, p. 193. 120 THE DESCENT OF MAN". Part I. time, the femora to the tibiae were as 244 to 230 ; and in three Negroes as 258 to 241. The humerus is like- wise shorter relatively to the forearm. This shortening of that part of the limb which is nearest to the body, appears to be, as suggested to me by Mr. Forbes, a case of compensation in relation with the greatly increased length of the trunk. The Aymaras present some other singular points of structure, for instance, the very small projection of the heel. These men are so thoroughly acclimatised to their cold and lofty abode, that when formerly carried down by the Spaniards to the low Eastern plains, and when now tempted down by high wages to the gold-washings, they suffer a frightful rate of mortality. Nevertheless Mr. Forbes found a few pure families which had sur- vived during two generations ; and he observed that they still inherited their characteristic peculiarities. But it was manifest, even without measurement, that these peculiarities had all decreased ; and on measure- ment their bodies were found not to be so much elon- gated as those of the men on the high plateau ; whilst their femora had become somewhat lengthened, as had their tibiae but in a less degree. The actual measure- ments may be seen by consulting Mr. Forbes' memoir. From these valuable observations, there can, I think, be no doubt that residence during many generations at a great elevation tends, both directly and indirectly, to induce inherited modifications in the proportions of the body.33 Although man may not have been much modified during the latter stages of his existence through the 33 Dr. Wilckens (' Landwirthschaft. Wochenblatt,' No. 10, 1S69) has lately published an interesting essay shewing how domestic animals, which live in mountainous regions, have their frames modified. Chap IV. MANNER OF DEVELOPMENT. 121 increased or decreased use of parts, the facts now given shew that his liability in this respect has not been lost ; and we positively know that the same law holds good with the lower animals. Consequently we may infer, that when at a remote epoch the progenitors of man were in a transitional state, and were changing from quadrupeds into bipeds, natural selection would probably have been greatly aided by the inherited effects of the increased or diminished use of the different parts of the bodv. Arrests of Development — Arrested development differs from arrested growth, as parts in the former state con- tinue to grow whilst still retaining their early condition. Various monstrosities come under this head, and some are known to be occasionally inherited, as a cleft-palate. It will suffice for our purpose to refer to the arrested brain-development of microcephalous idiots, as described in Vogt's great memoir.34 Their skulls are smaller, and the convolutions of the brain are less complex than in normal men. The frontal sinus, or the projection over the eye-brows, is largely developed, and the jaws are prognathous to an " ejfrayant " degree ; so that these idiots somewhat resemble the lower types of mankind. Their intelligence and most of their mental faculties are extremely feeble. They cannot acquire the power of speech, and are wholly incapable of prolonged attention, but are much given to imitation. They are strong and remarkably active, continually gamboling and jumping about, and making grimaces. They .often ascend stairs on all-fours ; and are curiously fond of climbing tip furniture or trees. We are thus reminded of the delight 34 'Mernoire sur les Microcephales,' 18(37, p. 50, 125, l^lYl^.isi- 198. /^ i* -*>' i! LI B