REASON
The simplest and truest definition of reason is, I take it, the
intelligent correlation of ideation and action for definite purposes
not instinctive. The casual observer and a very large majority of the
creationists deny the presence of reason in the lower animals, and group
all psychical manifestations that are to be observed in animals lower
than man under the head of instinct, forgetting that almost every
instinctive habit must have been, in the beginning, necessarily the
result of conscious determination.
Instinct is, in a certain sense, a process of ratiocination, though its
immediate operations may not be due to reason. Instinct involves mental
operations; if it did not, it would be simply reflex action. It is
heredity under a special name; the father transmits his mental
peculiarities as well as his corporeal individualities to his offspring.
The experiences of thousands of years leave their imprint on the
succeeding generations, until deductions and conclusions drawn from these
experiences no longer require any special act of reason in order to bring
about certain results. These results, which were, at first, the outcome
of special acts of ratiocination, or accidental happenings leading to the
good of the creature or creatures in which they occurred, finally became
habitual and instinctive.
These special acts of ratiocination are of daily, of hourly, occurrence
in the lives of countless myriads of the lower animals, and escape our
observation because of the obtuseness of our senses. Every now and then,
however, the observer is able to chronicle such an act of reason, and
thus adduce the proposition that if the creature or creatures were
continually placed in surroundings requiring a like act of reason, that
act would eventually become habitual and instinctive on the part of that
creature or those creatures. I have witnessed hundreds of acts of
intelligent ratiocination in the lower animals that were not called
forth by experience and which had not a single faculty of heredity. For
instance, several years ago I noticed that one of the combs in a
beehive, owing to the extreme heat, had become melted at the top and was
in great danger of falling to the floor. The bees had noticed this
impending calamity long before I had, and had already set about averting
it. They rapidly threw out a buttress or supporting pillar from the comb
next to the one in danger, and joined it firmly to it, thus shoring it
up and preventing its fall in a most effectual manner. When they had
made everything strong and secure, they went to the top of the comb and
reattached it to the ceiling of the hive. After this had been done to
their satisfaction, they removed the shoring pillar and used the wax
elsewhere. In this instance, there was an immediate adaptation of
themselves to surrounding circumstances, in which they averted and
prevented an utterly unforeseen and unheard-of catastrophe by means as
effectual as they were intelligent. Could man do more or reason better?
Here was an experience which had not happened to them in hundreds and
hundreds of generations, perhaps; which, perhaps, had never happened to
them before, and yet, when it did happen, their quick intelligence
readily grasped the situation, and they at once set about remedying the
evil.[77]
[77] Compare Huber, Vol. II. p. 280; see also Chap. IV. of this work.
A mud-dauber wasp built a nest in my room, and used an open ventilating
window as an entrance and exit. On one occasion this window happened to
be closed, and the wasp, not noticing the clear glass, flew against it
with great violence. She fell to the floor stunned, but when she had
recovered from the effects of the blow, she flew here and there about
the room as if looking for another exit. Finally, she discovered a small
crevice in the casing, through which she at once crawled. She then went
back and forth through this crack until she had become thoroughly
familiar with the new road. She never again essayed the window, though
it was left open the entire summer.
In this instance the wasp was taught by a single experience to seek out
a new road. This experience was wholly new to her, consequently, she
must have used correlative ideation for definite purposes in formulating
her method of procedure. Although ants, bees, and wasps have highly
developed memories, and seem to be likewise in possession of that
peculiar function of the mind called by some psychologists "unconscious
memory," through which they are, probably, enabled to transmit
impressions of comparatively recent experiences to their offspring, I
hardly think that the mud-dauber was influenced in her actions by any
such inherited instinct. Such a conclusion seems to be unwarranted by
the facts in the case. Mud-daubers may have bumped their heads against
windows ever since windows came into existence, but not with sufficient
frequency to cause them to possess an instinct that taught them to avoid
windows.
Again, the ground wasp, whose hole between the bricks of a pavement I
stopped with a wad of paper, and which learned to go down into the
sulcus between the bricks and to pull the paper in the direction of its
long axis in order to remove the obstruction, must have used correlative
ideation in order to grasp the problem that was set her to solve.
From certain observation I am inclined to believe that psychical traits
which are the result of thousands of years of experience before they
become part and parcel of the human _psychos_ may become psychic
actualities in ants, bees, and wasps in the course of a few generations.
The facility with which these creatures adapt themselves to new
environments--in which their very organisms, physical and psychical, are
changed to a certain extent--is abundant proof of the truth of this
conclusion. All experiments with the Hymenoptera amid changed
surroundings indicate an intelligent adaptation of themselves to such
environment.
The ant is the only animal, except man, which has slaves and domestic
animals. Their intelligence is so highly developed that they make a
perfect success in rearing their cattle and capturing their slaves. The
cattle of the ants are of the order _Aphididæ_. The herdsmen of these
aphidian cattle can be seen patrolling the shrubs on which the aphides
are grazing. On them devolves the care of the herds. They bring them out
in the morning and carry them back at night. They gather the eggs of the
aphides, carry them into a specially built nursery, attend them
carefully until the young aphides are hatched out, and then carry them
to the shrubs most liked by them for food. Some strange sense enables
them to recognize one another--an ant of the same species, but coming
from another nest, is immediately recognized as a stranger, and at once
attacked. If the eggs of one ant colony are hatched out in another of
the same species, the young ants are at once known to be strangers and
intruders. This far transcends our intelligence. What mother could
recognize her infant if it were born in the dark and she had never seen
it? Again, if the larvæ of ants are removed, hatched outside of the
nest, and then returned, the ants at once recognize them as kinsmen and
receive them into the nest.
When we take into the consideration that an ant's brain has gray matter
analogous to the gray matter found in the cortex of the human brain, we
should not feel surprised when we find striking evidences of
ratiocination in these little creatures. The better creatures are able
to communicate ideation or thought, the stronger and more frequent are
the evidences of their possession of reason. Ants can undoubtedly
communicate; how and in what manner, it is not generally agreed.
Some time ago I crushed an ant in a path usually taken by the
inhabitants of a nest (which was situated in a hollow tree) in their
journeys to and fro. A soldier ant came along presently, and, smelling
the blood[78] of her murdered companion, was seized by a sudden terror
and fled away into the nest. She soon returned, however, with thirteen
other soldier ants, and made a careful examination of the body and its
surroundings. Her companions also examined the corpse, and, having
satisfied themselves that their comrade was dead, and that her murderer
was not to be found, returned to the nest. Soon afterwards a large
worker ant, guarded by two soldier ants, came out, and, proceeding to
the body, picked it up, carried it down the tree and away beneath the
grass, where I lost sight of them.
[78] In order to avoid technicalities I think it best to use synonyms
with which the general student is familiar. The non-technical reader
will know at once what is meant by the "blood" of the ant.--W.
In this instance there is every evidence of complex reasoning; the
discoverer of the murder hurried away into the nest, where she gave the
alarm; the police of the community--the soldier ants--went immediately
to the scene of the tragedy, made an examination, and then returned and
gave in their report; the undertaker, in the shape of the large worker
ant, then went out, got the body, carried it away and buried it; the two
soldier ants followed the body to the grave in order to protect it from
cannibal ants.
It has been my good fortune to have witnessed several pitched battles
between large bodies of ants. In a battle between some black ants and some
yellow antagonists of another species, I saw many evidences of intelligent
communication. The yellow ants had a commissariat and an ambulance corps;
and I frequently saw them drop to the rear during the battle, and partake
of refreshments or have their wounds attended to. The blacks, which
composed the attacking army, were in light marching order, and had neither
of these conveniences and necessary adjuncts. The yellow ants frequently
sent back to their village for reënforcements; the ants that had been out
on hunting expeditions when the battle was joined were notified as soon as
they arrived at the nest, and immediately hurried off to join in the fray.
The blacks had discovered a herd of aphides belonging to the yellows, and
had sought to surprise the guards and steal the herd; hence the battle. I
am glad to report that the black horde was defeated by the brave yellow
warriors and had to decamp, leaving many of its number dead upon the field
of battle.
On another occasion I saw an army of red ants besieging a colony of
small black ants. The object of the red ants was the theft of the pupæ
or young of the black ants. These pupæ they take to their own nest and
rear as slaves, the enslaved ants to all appearances becoming entirely
satisfied with their condition, and working for their masters willingly
and without demur. The besieged ants evinced a high degree of reason and
forethought, for, as soon as the presence of the besiegers was noticed,
strong guards were posted in all of the approaches to the nest, both
front and rear. The red ants sent a detachment to surprise the colony
from the rear; but they found that surprise was impossible, for they
were met by a strong party of their gallant foes which vigorously
opposed them. The red ants were, however, eventually victorious, and
sacked the town, carrying away with them a large number of pupæ.
I cheerfully bear witness to the fact that the great myrmecologist,
Huber, was correct in his description of his experiment with the black
slave.[79]
[79] Huber, _The Natural History of Ants_, p. 249; quoted also by
Lubbock, _Ants, Bees, and Wasps_, p. 83; Romanes, _Animal
Intelligence_, p. 65; Kirby and Spence, _Entomology_, p. 369 _et seq._
Our species of blacks and reds differ but very little in form and
habits from their European kin; so the experiment may be easily
performed by any one at all interested in this remarkable instance of
"slave master, and master slave."--W.
Like Huber, I put some of these red slave-owners into a glass jar in
which I placed an abundance of food. Notwithstanding the fact that this
food was easy of access, being in fact immediately beneath their jaws,
they would not touch it! I then placed a black slave in the jar; she at
once went to her masters, and, after thoroughly cleansing them with her
tongue, gave them food. These red ants would have starved to death in
the midst of plenty, if they had been left to themselves.
This, at first glance, would seem to indicate an utter absence of reason
in these red slave-owners. Such a conclusion, however, is by no means
true. The facts indicate mental degeneration. So utterly subservient
had they become to the ministration of the slaves, that they had even
lost the faculty of feeding themselves!
Here, we have an example of degeneration in the mentality of an animal
incident to the enervating influence of slavery. Sir John Lubbock's
remarks anent the four genera of slave-making ants are so interesting
that I may be pardoned for quoting them entire. Says he:--
"These four genera" (_Formica sanguinea_, _Polyergus_,
_Strongylognathus_, _and Anergates_) "offer us every gradation from
lawless violence to contemptible parasitism.
"_Formica sanguinea_, which may be assumed to have comparatively
recently taken to slave-making, has not yet been materially affected.
"_Polyergus_, on the contrary, already illustrates the lowering tendency
of slavery. They have lost their knowledge of art, their natural
affection for their young, and even the instinct of feeding. They are,
however, bold and powerful marauders.
"In _Strongylognathus_ the enervating influence of slavery has gone
further, and told even on the bodily strength. They are no longer able
to capture their slaves in open warfare. Still they retain a semblance
of authority, and, when aroused, will fight bravely, though in vain.
"In _Anergates_, finally, we come to the last scene of this sad history.
We may safely conclude that in distant times their ancestors lived, as
so many ants do now, partly by hunting, partly on honey; that by
degrees they became bold marauders, and gradually took to keeping
slaves; that for a time they maintained their strength and agility,
though losing by degrees their real independence, their arts, and many
of their instincts; that gradually even their bodily force dwindled away
under the enervating influence to which they had subjected themselves,
until they sank to their present degraded condition--weak in body and
mind, few in numbers and apparently nearly extinct, the miserable
representatives of far superior ancestors, maintaining a precarious
existence as contemptible parasites of their former slaves."[80]
[80] Lubbock, _Ants, Bees, and Wasps_, pp. 88, 89.
This is truly a wonderful picture of mental and physical degeneration
incident to the enervating influences of slavery. That it is a true one,
an abundance of data most emphatically declares. The influence of
slavery on the human race (the masters) shows very plainly that man
himself quickly, comparatively speaking, loses his stamina when
subjected to it.
This fact is but another proof of the kinship of all animals, and the
similarity, nay, the sameness, of mind in man and the lower animals;
mind is the same in kind, though differing in degree.
When an animal is placed amid new and unfamiliar surroundings
necessitating the evolvement of intelligent action in order to meet the
necessities of such environment, such an animal evinces ratiocination.
I have seen many instances of such action on the part of ants. The
following data concerning the natural history of the honey-making ant
(_Myrmecocystus mexicanus_) are taken from my note-book.
During the summer of 1887 I spent several weeks in New Mexico, and while
there had the great good fortune to discover a colony of honey-making
ants. I found these ants in a little valley debouching out of Huerfanos
Park, a government reservation, I believe, at that time. The nest was
situated on the sandy shore of a small creek, and was a perfect square
of three or four feet, from which all grass, weeds, etc., had been
carefully removed. Around three sides of this square, viz., north, east,
and west, a column of black soldier ants continually patrolled night and
day.
Near the southeast corner of this open space the entrance to the nest
was situated. The south side of the square was not guarded, but was left
open for the entrance and exit of the hundreds of dark yellow workers
which were engaged in bringing food to the village. No sooner was a
burden put down than it was seized by black workers, which then carried
it into the nest. At no time did I see a black worker bringing food to
the centre of the square, nor did I ever see a yellow worker carrying
food into the nest; the blacks and the yellows never interfered with one
another's business.
To test the reasoning powers of these ants, I partially disabled a
centipede and threw it into the square a short distance from the patrol
line. For a moment or two the line was broken by the warriors hurrying
out to do battle with the squirming intruder. But only for a moment or
two, for orders were issued by some ant in authority (so it seemed, and
so I believe), and the line was established, though somewhat thinned by
the absence of soldiers. The messenger was sent to headquarters and
reënforcements were sent out, and soon the line was as strong as ever,
though hundreds of soldiers were warring with the centipede. The latter
was soon killed, and its body was removed piecemeal by the yellow
workers, which carried the fragments far beyond the boundaries of the
square.
Again, with my hunting-knife I dug a deep trench across the border of
one side of the square. The ants seemed dazed at first, but rapidly
adapted themselves to their new surroundings. They extended their patrol
line until it embraced the entire trench; then a countless horde of
yellow workers went to work, and in a day's time filled up the deep
excavation level with the surrounding surface! The patrol was then
reëstablished on the old line as though nothing had occurred to
interrupt the ordinary routine of the colony. Before leaving the valley
I dug up the nest and examined the peculiar individuals whose enforced
habits give to these interesting ants the name of "honey-makers." Each
one of these curious creatures was confined in a separate cell, the
entrance to which was very small. Here they lived in absolute seclusion,
being fed by the black workers with pollen, the nectar of flowers,
tender herbs, etc.
Through some wonderful chemical process this food was turned into a
delicious honey, the flavor of which (I ate of it freely) was distinctly
winy and aromatic.
Apparently, they had no anal orifices, these passages probably having
been obliterated. These imprisoned honey-makers were merely animated
bags of honey, and were kept by the other ants solely for the purpose of
furnishing a never failing supply of sweet and wholesome food.[81]
[81] Compare Romanes, _Animal Intelligence_, p. 111 _et seq._ At the
time when these details were written in my note-book I was
unacquainted with Captain Fleeson's and Mr. Edwards's observations,
nor had I read Romanes's work on _Animal Intelligence_. I had heard of
_Myrmecocystus_, of course, but knew nothing of its natural history.
Comparison will show that my observations differ from those of the
gentlemen mentioned above. I saw nothing whatever of the web described
by Captain Fleeson: the honey-making _solitaires_ were simply confined
in cells, where they rested on the bare ground; they were not perched
upon "a network of squares, like a spider's web." The "outside"
workers observed by me were not black, but very dark yellow, while the
"inside" workers were bright yellow in color.--W.
The rapidity with which these ants set to work to fill in the trench
made by my hunting-knife showed that they recognized, at once, the
calamity that had befallen them, and that they used rational methods in
remedying the evil.
The fact that they have evolved the idea of setting aside certain
members of the colony as honey-makers, and that there is a distinct
recognition of a division, or divisions, in the labor of the inhabitants
of the nest, evinces very high psychical development.
In a colony of _Termes_, or white ants, so-called, there are five kinds of
individuals. _First_, the workers. These do all the work of the nest,
collecting provisions, waiting on the queen, carrying eggs to the
nurseries, feeding the young until they are old enough to care for
themselves, repairing and erecting buildings, etc. _Second_, the nymphs.
These differ in nothing from the workers, except that they have
rudimentary wings. _Third_, the neuters. These are much less in numbers
than the workers, but exceed them greatly in bulk. They have long and very
large heads, armed with powerful mandibles, and are the sentinels and
soldiers of the colony. These neuters are blind. _Fourth_ and _Fifth_, the
males and females. These are the perfect insects, capable of continuing
the species. There is only one each in every separate society. They are
exempted from all labor, and are the common father and mother of the
community.
Termes inhabit tropical countries, and the first establishment of new
colonies takes place in this way: In the evening, at the end of the dry
season, the males and females, having arrived at their perfect state,
emerge from their nest in countless thousands. They have two pairs of
wings, and with their aid mount immediately into the air. The next
morning they are found covering the ground, and deprived of their wings.
They then mate. Scarcely a single pair in many millions escape their
enemies--birds, reptiles, beasts, fishes, insects, especially the other
ants, and even man himself. The workers, which are continually prowling
about their covered ways, occasionally meet one of these pairs. They
immediately salute them, render them homage, and elect them father and
mother of a new colony. All other pairs not so fortunate perish.
As soon as they are chosen king and queen, or rather, father and mother,
they are conducted into the nest, where the workers build around them a
suitable cell, the entrances to which are large enough for themselves
and the neuters or soldiers to pass through, but too small for the royal
pair. Thus they remain in prison as long as they live. They are
furnished with every delicacy, but are never allowed to leave their
prison. The female soon begins to oviposit--the eggs, as fast as they
are dropped, being carried away into the nurseries by the workers. As
the queen increases in dimensions, they keep enlarging the cell in which
she is confined. Her abdomen begins to extend until it is two thousand
times the size of the rest of the body, and her bulk equals that of
twenty thousand workers. She becomes one vast matrix of eggs. I once saw
a queen which measured three and one quarter inches from one extremity
of her body to the other. There is continual oviposition, the queen
laying over eighty thousand eggs in twenty-four hours, or one egg every
second. As these females live about two years, they will lay some sixty
million eggs.
In the royal cell there are always some soldiers on guard and workers
administering to the royal pair. The activity and energy of these
workers is truly wonderful. In New Mexico, where I found a family of
insects closely resembling true _Termes_, I once had an opportunity of
observing this extraordinary energy. I broke off a portion of their
dome-shaped nest, and in an incredibly short time they had mended the
breach and restored their domicile to the same condition it was before I
had molested it. If you attack a termite building and make a slight
breach in its walls, the laborers immediately retire into the inmost
recesses of the nest and give place to another class of its inhabitants,
the warriors. Several soldiers come out to reconnoitre, they then retire
and give the alarm. Then several more come out as quickly as possible,
followed in a few moments by a large battalion. Their anger and fury are
excessive. If you continue to molest them, their anger leaps all bounds.
They rush out in myriads, and, being blind, bite everything with which
they come in contact.[82] If, however, the attack is not continued, they
retire into the nest, with the exception of two or three which remain
outside. The workers then appear and begin to repair the damaged wall.
One of the soldiers remaining outside acts as overseer and superintendent
of construction. At intervals of a minute or two it will strike the wall
with its mandibles, making a peculiar sound. This is answered by the
workers with a loud hiss and a marked acceleration in their movements.
Should these ants again be disturbed, the laborers would vanish, and the
warriors would take their places, ready and willing to fight to the death
in defence of their community.[82]
[82] Compare Kirby and Spence, _Entomology_.
While it is undoubtedly true that instinct can be highly differentiated,
so that in its action it seemingly approaches reason, it is also equally
true that instinct, fundamentally, is but a blind impulse. The impulse
to fight on the part of these soldier termites is, unquestionably,
instinctive, but the psychical habitudes which originate division and
partition of labor, which set apart certain individuals (in no wise
different from their fellows) as officers and overseers, which, beyond
peradventure, are able to incite the laborers to greater effort by
commands that are clearly understood and intelligently obeyed, surely
such psychical characteristics cannot be embraced in the category of
instinctive impulses--mere blind followings-out of inherited
impressions!
Instinct is the bugbear of psychology and does more to retard
investigation than any other factor. As long as people of the creationist
stamp wield the instinct-club, just so long will they be unable to grasp
the idea of intelligent ratiocination in the lower animals. A company of
men rebuilding a wall which has been overthrown by a tempest are said to
be governed and directed by reason, while a company of ants doing
precisely the same thing, and with just as much intelligence, are said to
be directed by instinct![83]
[83] It is often the case that animals find themselves amid
surroundings in which they are required to evince original ideation
and fail so to do. But, is man any different? How often do we find
ourselves checkmated and puzzled by trivial circumstances, which, on
being explained, are seen to be exceedingly simple!--W.
In the neighborhood of Hell's-Half-Acre, a desolate and rocky valley a
short distance from Hot Springs, Arkansas, in 1887, I discovered several
communities of harvester ants, and closely and carefully observed their
habits. The first time I noticed them was early in the spring, when they
seemed to be engaged in planting their grain. They were bringing out the
little grass-seeds by the hundreds and thousands, and carrying them some
distance from the nest, where they were dropped on the turf. It is
possible that these ants were only getting rid of spoiled grain, but I
think not, for several of the seeds secured and planted by me germinated.
I observed them again in about a month, and the grass was growing finely
on the plat where they had deposited the seeds. Not a single stalk of any
other kind of grass and not a single weed were to be seen in this model
grain-field. The ants had evidently removed every plant that might
interfere with the growth of their grain.
I saw them again in August when they were reaping the crop and storing
the grain away in their nests. The ants would climb the grass-stems
until they came to the seeds; these they would then seize in their
mandibles, outer sheath and all, and, by vigorously twisting them from
side to side, would separate them from the stalk; they would then crawl
down and carry them into the nest. I did not notice here the roads and
pathways so generally found leading to the nests of the Texas variety of
the harvester. Around the nests the surface of the ground was smooth and
bare, but there were no highways or roads leading to them.
Among the workers I saw some ants whose heads and mandibles were very
large. These ants never engaged in any of the agricultural pursuits of
their sisters; they were the soldiers and the sentinels of the community.
One nest migrated while I had them under observation, and I had the
pleasure of witnessing the behavior of these fearless little warriors
when on the march. The ants were moving nearer to their grain-fields,
and were carrying with them their young, etc. The route, from the old
home to the new, was patrolled on either side by soldiers. Every now
and then I saw one of these individuals rush aside, elevate herself on
her hind legs, shake her head, and clash her mandibles. She acted as if
she saw some danger menacing the marching column and would ward it off.
Others climbed little twigs or tufts of grass and scanned the surrounding
country from these elevated and commanding positions. Others hurried up
the laggards and stragglers, and even carried the weak and infirm.
These ants winnow or husk the grain after it has been carried into the
nest. All during the harvesting I observed workers bringing chaff from the
nest and carrying it some distance away. It is said by Texan observers
that the harvesters of that state bring the grain to the surface and dry
it, if, perchance, it becomes wet. I have never observed this myself, but
accept it as an established fact.[84]
[84] I believe that these observations on the presence of the
harvester ant in Arkansas are unique; at least I have been unable to
find any data corroborative of this fact. How did a fecundated queen
arrive at a spot so far from her usual habitat?--W.
The faculty of computing is among the very last of the psychical habitudes
acquired by man, and is an evidence of high ratiocinative ability. Many of
the savage races are unable to count above three,--some not above
five,--thus demonstrating the truthfulness of the above assertion. Yet I
believe that it can be clearly shown that some of the lower animals and
many of the higher animals are able to count.
The mason wasps, or mud-daubers, build their compartment houses generally
in places easily accessible to the investigator; therefore the experiments
and observations which I am about to detail can be duplicated and verified
without difficulty. These interesting members of the Hymenoptera, the
_avant-couriers_ of the social insects, can be seen any bright day in
August or September busily engaged on the margins of ponds, ditches, and
puddles in the procurement of building materials. They will alight close
to the water's edge, and, vibrating their wings rapidly, will run hither
and thither over the moist clay until they arrive at a spot which, in
their opinion, will furnish suitable mortar. Quickly biting up a pellet of
mud, they moisten it with saliva, all the while kneading it and rolling it
between maxillæ and palpi. When it has reached the proper consistency they
bear it away to some dry, warm place, such as the rafters of an outhouse
or a garret, and there use it in the construction of their adobe or mud
nests.
There may be dozens of these nests in the process of construction, and
arranged on the rafters, side by side, yet these busy little masons
never make the mistake of confounding the houses; after securing mortar
they invariably return, each to her own structure. This statement can be
easily verified. While the insect is engaged in applying the mortar,
take a camel's-hair brush and quickly paint a small spot on her
shoulders with a mixture of zinc oxide and gum arabic; then mark the
nest. The marked wasp will always return to the marked nest.
As soon as the cells are completed, the wasp deposits an egg in each,
and immediately begins to busy herself about the future welfare of the
coming baby wasps. Just here these remarkable creatures show that they
possess a mental faculty which far transcends any like act of human
intelligence; they are able to tell which of the eggs will produce males
and which females. Not only are they able to do this, but, seemingly
fully aware of the fact that it takes a longer time for the female larvæ
to pupate than it does the male larvæ, they provide for this emergency
by depositing in the cells containing female eggs a larger amount of
food. It is in the procurement and storage of this food-supply that
these insects give unmistakable evidence of the possession by them of
the faculty of computing.
The knowing little mother is well aware of the fact that as soon as the
egg hatches the young grub will need food, and an abundance of food at
that; so, before closing the orifice of the cell, she packs away in it
the favorite food of her offspring, which is spiders. She knows that in
the close, hot cell the spiders, if dead, would soon become putrid and
unfit for food: therefore, she does not kill them outright, but simply
anæsthetizes them by instilling a small amount of poison through that
sharp and efficacious hypodermic needle, her sting.[85]
[85] As a matter of fact I have kept Argiope under observation in this
anæsthetized condition for _thirteen weeks_.--W.
Each variety of masons uses a different spider; the common blue mason is
partial to the beautiful Argiope, which, banded as it is with gray and
yellow, is a very conspicuous object when seen on its glistening,
upright web.
The wasp larva, as soon as it emerges from the egg-membrane, finds fresh
and palatable food before its very nose, and at once begins to eat.
In the case of the male larvæ, five spiders are deposited in each cell,
while eight are always placed in the female compartments.[86] If one or
more spiders are removed from the cell, the mother wasp does not appear
to notice that her food-supply has been tampered with; she completes her
quota, five for the males and eight for the females, and then closes the
cell, no matter if there remains in the compartment one, two, or three
spiders. Her count calls for five or eight, as the case may be, and,
when she has put on top of the egg the requisite number according to her
count, her responsibility ceases.
[86] Compare Kirby and Spence, _Entomology_, pp. 231, 232, habits of
_Epipone spinipes_ in regard to small grubs.
I have never known a mud-dauber to make a mistake in her computation,
although I have endeavored to puzzle this little arithmetician time and
again. If a wad of paper be placed in a cell after two or three spiders
have been deposited, thus partially filling it, the insect knows at once
that something is wrong, and will proceed to investigate. She will
remove the spiders on top of the paper, will extract the wad, and will
then proceed with her count. On the other hand, if several spiders be
taken out when the count calls for only one or two more, the wasp does
not appear to notice that the cell is almost empty; she finishes her
count as if everything were correct, and then seals up the opening with
mud.
The quail lays some twelve or fifteen eggs, and seems to be aware of the
fact that some of her eggs are missing when several have been removed
from the nest. When one of these birds has laid six or eight eggs, if
two or three be removed she will abandon the nest and deposit the
remainder of her eggs elsewhere. This behavior on the part of the bird
has been attributed to her sense of smell; she, detecting the presence
of an enemy by the scent of his hand left behind in the nest, recognizes
the danger, and therefore abandons the nest. But numerous experiments
along this line teach me that smell has nothing to do with it whatever.
I have removed eggs with a long iron ladle, the bowl of which I had
carefully refrained from touching, and also with sticks freshly cut in
the wood, and yet the birds would invariably abandon their nests. On the
contrary, when all, or nearly all, the eggs have been laid, several may
be removed either with the ladle or with the naked hand, and yet the
bird will not abandon her nest. She seems to be able to count up to six
or eight; beyond this latter number her faculty of computing does not
extend. After the full laying has been deposited in the nest and the
process of incubation has become established, a large number of the eggs
may be removed, and yet the bird will continue to set until the
remaining eggs have been hatched out.
The faculty of computing seems to be present in other birds to some
extent; the domesticated guinea-fowl and the turkey sometimes possess it
in a marked degree, though in most of these fowls domestication has
almost entirely eradicated it. The domestic barnyard hen has had her
nest robbed for such a long period of time that she has lost the faculty
of counting. But even this meek provider of food for mankind is able, in
some instances, to count one: she will not lay in her nest unless a
nest-egg be left to delude her. The nest-egg may be wholly factitious
and made of china, marble, chalk, stone or iron painted white; the hen
does not seem to care so long as it bears some resemblance to an egg.
That the turkey-hen can count, the following instance occurring under
my own observation would seem to indicate. The bird had a nest in my
garden in which she had deposited three eggs. One day another turkey,
seized with a desire of ovipositing, spied this nest and laid an egg
therein. The original owner of the nest came along soon after the
interloper had left her egg; she examined the nest carefully, and turned
the eggs with her beak. Finally she thrust her beak through the shell of
an egg and bore it far from the nest before dropping it on the ground.
Now, as far as I could tell, the eggs were alike, but the sharper and
more discriminating eyes of the turkey undoubtedly saw, on close
examination, some peculiarity in color or shape in the stranger's egg,
and therefore bore it away and destroyed it. I believe, however, that
her attention was arrested at first by the unexpected number of eggs in
the nest, and that she was enabled to detect the stranger's egg only
after much inspection and comparison.
Many animals have been taught to count, but none of them show that they
fully appreciate the value of numerical rotation. Of course, in the vast
majority of trained animals, the seeming appreciation is only a trick
founded on the sense of smell, sight, touch, or taste.
An instance recently came under my personal observation in which a dog,
a high-bred collie, seemingly evinced an abstract idea of numbers. The
animal in question received an injury a year or so ago through which
she became permanently and totally blind. Recently she gave birth to a
litter of six puppies, all of which were uniform in size and markings.
Immediately after the birth of the puppies, the dog's owner had mother
and young removed from the dark cellar in which they then were, and
carried to a warm and well-ventilated room in his stables.
In the darkness of the cellar one of the puppies was overlooked and left
behind. As soon as the mother entered the box in which her young had
been placed, she proceeded to examine them, nosing them about and
licking them. Suddenly she appeared to become very much disturbed about
something; she jumped out of the box and then jumped back again, nosing
the puppies as before. Again she jumped from the box and then made her
way toward the cellar, followed by her astonished owner, who had begun
to have an inkling as to what disturbed her. She had counted her young
ones, and had discovered that one had been left behind. Sure enough, the
abandoned puppy was soon found and carried in triumph to the new home.
So astonished was the gentleman[87] at this blind creature's
intelligence that he resolved to experiment further; he removed another
puppy and walked away with it in his arms. It was not long before the
blind mother showed her distress so plainly, that I begged him to
return the puppy, which, having been returned to her, she caressed for a
moment or so, and then gave herself up to the chief function of
maternity, suckling her young.
[87] Karl Becker, Esq., St. Louis, Mo.
It is beyond reason to suppose that this dog discovered the absence of
her young one through her sense of smell. Granted that to the maternal
nose each puppy had an individual and particular odor (which I do not
believe), it is hardly possible, nay, it is impossible, that the dog's
sensorium had recognized and retained these different scents in the
short time which had elapsed since their birth. It is much more
reasonable to suppose that the dog knew that she had given birth to six
young ones, and that she had counted them when they had been removed to
their new home. Again, it is a well-known fact that a dog can retain
only one scent at a time; hence, this fact alone would militate somewhat
against the idea that the sense of smell was the detecting agent in this
case. Nor could it have been the sense of touch; the mother could not
have possibly familiarized herself with the individual form of each
puppy in so short space of time. It is folly to suppose that each young
one had a distinctive taste or flavor; hence the sense of taste must
also be eliminated. Thus, by exclusion, there remains but one faculty,
the faculty of computing, to account for the dog's actions.
Several years ago there lived in Cincinnati a mule which was employed
by a street railway company in hauling cars up a steep incline. This
animal was hitched in front of the regular team, and unhitched as soon
as the car arrived at the top of the hill. It made a certain number of
trips in the forenoon (I have forgotten the number, but will say fifty
for the sake of convenience), and a like number in the afternoon,
resting for an hour at noon. As soon as the mule completed its fiftieth
trip, it marched away to its stable without orders from its driver. To
show that it was not influenced by the sound of factory whistles and
bells, the following remarkable action on the part of this animal is
vouched for by the superintendent of the line, who gave me these data.
On a certain occasion, during a musical festival, this mule was
transferred to the night shift, and the very instant it completed its
fiftieth trip it started for the stables. It took the combined efforts
of several men to make it return to its duty. At night there were no
bells or whistles to inform the creature that "quitting-time" had come;
it thought the time for rest and food had arrived as soon as it had
completed its fifty trips.[88]
[88] These data were given to me at a certain club banquet where I had
no facilities for noting them down. I have endeavored to locate the
superintendent in question, but without success; I believe, however,
that he gave the facts just as they occurred.--W.
My meals are always served at regular appointed hours, which never vary
throughout the year; and, since my cook "prides herself" on her
punctuality, they are always served on the stroke of the clock. The
moment the bell rings, my cat, a large and very intelligent male, takes
up a position at the door, and is generally the first to enter the
dining room. A few moments before meal-time, Melchizedek (for he is of
royal blood and bears a royal name) becomes uneasy, jumping from chair
to floor or from floor to chair, and sometimes mewing gently. The moment
the bell rings, he is all animation, and shows by his actions that he
fully understands its meaning. He never mistakes the sound of the
dressing-bell for that of the tea-bell, though the same bell is used.
This cat may not be able to count, but that he notes the passage of time
I do not for an instant doubt.
Some monkeys give unmistakable evidences of the possession by them of
the computing faculty. In 1889 I made the acquaintance of a very
intelligent chimpanzee which could count as high as three. That this was
not a trick suggested by sensual impulses I had ample opportunity of
satisfying myself. The owner of the animal would leave the room, no one
being present but myself, and when I would call for two marbles, or one
marble, or three marbles, as the case might be, the monkey would gravely
hand over the required number. Romanes mentions an ape that could count
three, the material used in his experiment being straws from the
animal's cage.
The fact that monkeys can count does not appear so remarkable when it is
agreed by the best authorities that they are capable of understanding
human speech.[89]
[89] Romanes, _Mental Evolution in Man_, p. 369; Darwin, _Descent of
Man_, p. 87; Whitney, _Enc. Brit._, "Philology," Vol. XVIII. p. 769,
quoted by Romanes, _super_.
Returning for a moment to insects, we find that bees and ants give many
evidences of intelligent correlative ideation and action for definite
purposes not instinctive. In regard to bees, Huber's experiment with the
glass slip proves conclusively, in my opinion, that these creatures
_reason_. This experiment is so interesting that it will bear recital.
Huber placed a slip of glass in front of a comb that was under
construction. The bees, as if perfectly aware of the fact that it would
be difficult to affix the comb to the slippery surface of the glass,
curved it at a right angle around the slip of glass and fastened it to
the wooden wall of the hive![90]
[90] Huber, Vol. II. p. 230; quoted also by Kirby and Spence, _loc.
cit. ante_, p. 582.
It is folly to suppose that bees have an instinctive knowledge of glass,
hence we are forced to conclude that they were governed in this instance
solely by reason.
Furthermore, as the inner surface of the comb was concave, and the outer
surface convex, the bees made the cells on the former much smaller, and
those on the latter much larger, than usual!
"How, as Huber asks, can we comprehend the mode in which such a crowd of
laborers, occupied at the same time on the edge of the comb, could agree
to give it the same curvature from one extremity to the other; or how
could they arrange together to construct on one face cells so small,
while on the other they imparted to them such enlarged dimensions?"[91]
[91] Kirby and Spence, _loc. cit. ante_, pp. 582, 583.
Surely, no "variation of instinct," however complex, can possibly
account for such a deviation from the normal!
It is hardly necessary to give more evidence as to the presence of
reason in the psychical organisms of the lower animals; I believe that I
have clearly demonstrated that some of them do make use of intelligent
ratiocination. To prove that this view, _i.e._ that the lower animals
reason, is widely held, I need only point to the works of such men as
Darwin, Büchner, Forel, Huber, Lubbock, Hartmann, Kirby and Spence, and
dozens of others.[92]
[92] Darwin, _Descent of Man_; Romanes, _Animal Intelligence_, _Mental
Evolution in Animals_, _Mental Evolution in Man_; Lubbock, _Senses,
Instincts, and Intelligence of Animals_, and _Ants, Bees, and Wasps_;
Hartmann, _Anthropoid Apes_; Büchner, _Geistesleben der Thiere_;
Huber, _Natural History of Ants_, etc.
We have seen that the lower animals seem to possess very near, if not
quite, all of the _fundamental_ psychical habitudes of the highest
animal of all--_Homo sapiens_; we will now proceed to study certain
psychical attributes in the possession of the lower animals which man
has lost in the process of evolution. These attributes will be embraced
under the heading of Auxiliary Senses.