Man And His Ancestor: A Study In Evolution

by Charles Morris

The full adoption of the erect attitude gave the ancestor of man an immense motor supremacy over the lower animals, for it completely released his fore limbs from duty as organs of support and set them free for new and superior purposes. In all the animal kingdom below man there exists but a single form that emulates him in this possession of a grasping organ which takes no part in walking or in other modes of locomotion. This is the elephant, whose nose and upper lip have developed into an enormous and highly flexible trunk, with delicate grasping powers. The possession of this organ may have had much to do with the intellectual acumen of the elephant. Yet it is far inferior in its powers to the arm and hand of man; while the form, size, and food of the elephant stand in the way of the progress which might have been made by an animal possessed of such an organ in connection with a better suited bodily structure.

For a period of many millions of years the world of vertebrate life continued quadrupedal, or where a variation from this structure took place the fore limbs remained to a large extent organs of locomotion. Finally a true biped appeared. For a period of equal duration the mental progress of animals was exceedingly slow. Then, with almost startling suddenness, a highly intellectual animal appeared. Thus the coming of man indicated, in two directions, an extraordinary deviation from the ordinary course of animal development. Both physically and mentally evolution seemed to take an enormous leap, instead of proceeding by its usual minute steps, and in the advent of man we have a phenomenon remarkable alike in the development of the body and the mind.

So far our attention has been directed to the evolution of the human body, now we must consider that of the human mind. In seeking through the animal kingdom for the probable ancestor of man in his bodily aspect, we were drawn irresistibly to the ape tribe, as the only one that made any near approach to him in structure. In considering the case from the point of view of mental development we find a similar irresistible drawing toward the apes, as the most spontaneously intelligent of the mammalia. While many of the lower animals are capable of being taught, the ape stands nearly alone in the power of thinking for itself, the characteristic of self-education.

Innumerable testimonials could be quoted from observers in evidence of the superior mental powers of the apes. Hartmann says of them that "their intelligence sets them high above other mammals," and Romanes that they "certainly surpass all other animals in the scope of their rational faculty." It is scarcely necessary here to give extended examples of ape intelligence. Hundreds of instances are on record, many of them showing remarkable powers of reasoning for one of the lower animals. The ape, it is true, is not alone in its teachableness. Nearly all the domestic animals can be taught, the dog and the elephant to a considerable degree. And evidences of reasoning out some subject for themselves now and then appear in the domesticated species; but these are rare instances, not frequent acts as in the case of the apes.

The apes, indeed, rarely need teaching. They observe and imitate to an extent far beyond that displayed by any others of the lower animals, and the more remarkable from the fact that in nearly every instance the animals concerned began life in the wild state, and had none of the advantages of hereditary influence possessed by the domesticated dog and horse. Among the most interesting examples of spontaneous acts of intelligence of the ape tribe are those related by Romanes, in his "Animal Intelligence," of the doings of a cebus monkey, which he kept for several months under close observation in his own house. Instead of selecting general examples of ape actions, we may cite some of the doings of this intelligent creature.

The cebus did not wait to be shown how to do things, but was an adept in devising ways to do them himself. He had the monkey love of mischief well developed, and not much that was breakable came whole from his hands. When he could not break an egg cup by dashing it to the ground, he hammered it on the post of a brass bedstead until it was in fragments. In breaking a stick, he would pass it down between a heavy object and the wall, and break it by hanging on its end. In destroying an article of dress, he would begin by carefully pulling out the threads, and afterward tear it to pieces with his teeth. His nuts he broke with a hammer precisely as a man would have done and without being shown its use. Ridicule was not pleasant to him; he strongly resented being laughed at, and would throw anything within reach at his tormentor and with a skill and force not usual with monkeys. Taking the missile in both hands and standing erect, he would extend his long arms behind his back and hurl the article by bringing them forcibly forward.

If any object he wanted was too far away to reach, he would draw it toward him with a stick. Failing in this, he was observed to throw a shawl back over his head, and then fling it forward with all his strength, holding it by two corners. When it fell over the object, he brought this within reach by drawing in the shawl. In his gyrations, the chain by which he was fastened often became twisted around some object. He would now examine it intently, pulling it in opposite ways with his fingers until he had discovered how the turns ran. This done, he would carefully reverse his motions until the chain was quite disentangled.

The most striking act of intelligence told of this creature was his dealings with a hearth-brush which fell into his hands, and of which the handle screwed into the brush. It took him no long time to find out how to unscrew the handle. When this was achieved, he at once began to try and screw it in again. In doing so he showed great ingenuity. At first he put the wrong end of the handle into the hole, and turned it round and round in the right direction for screwing. Finding this would not work, he took it out and tried the other end, always turning in the right direction. It was a difficult feat to perform, as he had to turn the screw with both hands, while the flexible bristles of the brush prevented it from remaining steady. To aid his operations he now held the brush with one foot, while turning with both hands. It was still difficult to make the first turn of the screw, but he worked on with untiring perseverance until he got the thread to catch, and then screwed it in to the end. The remarkable thing was that he never tried to turn the handle in the wrong direction, but always screwed it from left to right, as if he knew that he must reverse the original motion. The feat accomplished, he repeated it, and continued to do so until he could perform it easily. Then he threw the brush aside, apparently taking no more interest in that over which he had worked so persistently. No man could have devoted himself more earnestly to learn some new art, and become more indifferent to it when once learned. These are a few only of the many acts of intelligence observed by Mr. Romanes in the doings of this animal. They will suffice as examples of what we mean by spontaneous intelligence. The cebus did not need to be shown how to do things; it worked them out for itself much as a man would have done, performing acts of an intricacy far beyond any ever observed in other classes of animals in captivity. It may be said further that the displays of spontaneous intelligence shown by dogs, cats, and similar animals have usually been intended in some way for the advantage of the animal; few or none are on record which indicate a mere desire to know without ulterior advantage; no persevering effort, like that with the brush, which is purely an instance of self-instruction.

Examples of intelligence of this advanced character could be cited from observation of monkeys of various species. The anthropoid apes have not been brought to any large extent under observation, but are notable for their intelligence in captivity. It is not easy to observe them in a state of nature, and nearly all we know is that the orang makes itself a nightly bed of branches broken off and carefully laid together, and is said to cover itself in bed with large leaves, if the weather is wet. The chimpanzee has a similar habit, and the gorilla is said to build itself a nest in which the female and the young sleep, the old male resting at the foot of the tree, on guard against their dangerous foe, the leopard.

It is the young animals of these species which are the most social and docile and most approach man in appearance. As they grow older, their specific characters become more marked. Fierce and sullen as is the old gorilla, the young of this species is playful and affectionate in captivity and is given to mischievous tricks. The one that was kept for a time in Berlin showed much good-nature, playfulness, and intelligence, and some degree of monkey mischievousness. It was very cunning in carrying out its plans, particularly in stealing sugar, of which it was very fond.