It is the same with all the other faculties of our soul when compared with the most essential properties of matter. As the mind wills and commands, so the body obeys in every thing within its power. The mind forms, at pleasure, an intimate union with any object; neither distance, magnitude, nor figure, can obstruct this union, when the mind wills it, it is effected in an instant. The body can form no union; whatever touches it too closely injures it; it requires a long time in order to approach another body; it every where meets with resistance, and obstacles, and from the smallest shock its motion ceases. Is will then nothing more than a corporeal movement; and is contemplation but a simple contact? How could this contact take place upon a remote object or abstracted subjects? How could this movement be accomplished in an indivisible instant? Is it possible to have a conception of motion without having a conception of space and time? Will, therefore, if it be a motion, is not a material one; and if the union of the mind with its object be a contact, it is effected at a distance: and is not this contact a penetration? qualities which are absolutely opposite to those of matter, and which of consequence can only belong to the immaterial being.
But I fear I have already dwelt too long on a subject which, by many, may be considered as foreign to our purpose; and it might be asked, "Ought Metaphysical Considerations on the Soul to find a place in a System of Natural History?" Were I conscious of abilities equal to the discussion of a topic so exalted, this reflection, I must own, would have little weight with me; and I have contracted my remarks only because I was afraid I should not be able to comprehend a subject so enlarged and so important in its full extent. Why retrench from the Natural History of Man the history of his noblest part? Why thus preposterously debase him; by considering him merely as an animal, while he is of a nature so different, and so superior, to that of the brutes, that those must be immersed in ignorance like the brutes themselves who ever thought of confounding them.
Man, as to the material part of his existence, certainly bears a resemblance to other animals, and in comprehending the circle of natural beings there is a necessity for placing him in the class of animals. Nature, however, has neither classes nor species; it contains only individuals. These species and classes are nothing but ideas which we have ourselves formed and established, and though we place man in one of such classes we do not change his being; we do not derogate from his dignity; we do not alter his condition. In a word, we only place him at the head of those who bear a similitude to him in the material part of his being.
In comparing man with the animal we find in both an organized body, senses, flesh, blood, motion, and a multitude of other resemblances. But these resemblances are all external, and not sufficient to justify a decision, that the human and the animal natures are similar. In order to form a proper judgment of the nature of each we ought to have as distinct a knowledge of the internal qualities of an animal as we have of our own. As the knowledge of what passes within animals is impossible to be attained, and as we know not of what order and kind its sensations may be, in relation to those of man, we can only judge from a comparison of the effects which result from the natural operations of both.
Let us, then, take a view of these effects; and, while we admit of all the particular resemblances, limit our investigation to the most general distinctions. It will be allowed, that the most stupid man is able to manage the most acute animal; he governs it, and renders if subservient to his purposes; and this, not so much on account of his strength or skill as by the superiority of his nature, and from his being possessed of reason, which enables him to form a rational system of action and method, by which he compels the animals to obey him. The strongest and most acute animals do not give law to the inferior, nor hold them in servitude. The stronger, it is true, devour the weaker, but this action implies no more than an urgent necessity, or a rage of appetite; qualities very different from that which produces a series of actions, all tending to the same end. Did animals enjoy this faculty, should we not see some of them assume dominion over others, and oblige them to furnish their food, to watch over them, and to attend them when sick or wounded? Now, throughout the creation of animals, there is no vestige of such subordination, no appearance that one of them knows, or is sensible of, the superiority of his own nature over that of others. It follows, then, that they must all be considered as of one nature, and that the nature of man is not only highly superior to that of the brute, but also entirely different from it.
Man, by outward signs, indicates what passes within him; he communicates his sentiments by speech, which is a sign common to the whole human species. The savage and the civilized man have the same powers of utterance; both speak naturally, and so as to be understood. No other animal is endowed with this expression of thought; nor is that defect owing, as some have imagined, to the want of proper organs. Anatomists have found the tongue of an ape to be as perfect as that of a man. The ape, therefore, if he had thought, would have speech, and if its thoughts had aught analogous to ours, this speech would have an analogy to ours also. Supposing its thoughts were peculiar to its species, it still would hold discourse with those of its kind, a circumstance of which we should have heard had it been endowed with the powers of speech. So far then is the ape from having any thought like ours, that it has not even any order of thoughts of its own. As they express nothing by combined and settled signs, they of consequence are void of thought, or at most have it in a very small degree.
That it is from no organical defect animals are denied the gift of speech is plain, as several species of them may be taught to pronounce words, and even repeat sentences of some length. Perhaps many others might be found capable of articulating particular sounds[AG]; but to make them conceive the ideas which such sounds denote is an impracticable task. They seem to repeat and articulate merely as an echo, or an artificial machine. It is not in the mechanical powers, or the material organs, but in the intellectual faculties, that they are deficient.
[AG] Leibnitz mentions a dog which had been taught to pronounce several German and French words.
As all language supposes a chain of thought, it is on that account that brute animals have no speech, for even allowing something in them which resembles our first apprehensions, our most gross and mechanical sensations, they still will be found incapable of forming that association of ideas which can alone produce reflection; and in this consists the essence of thought. To this inability of connecting and separating ideas it is that they are destitute of thought and speech, as also that they neither can invent nor improve any thing. Were they endowed with the power of reflection, even in the most subordinate degree, they would be capable of making some kind of proficiency, and acquire more industry; the modern beaver would build with more art and solidity than the ancient; and the bee would daily be adding new improvements to its cell; for if we suppose this cell as perfect already as it can be, we ascribe to the insect an intelligence superior to our own; by which it could discern at once the last degree of perfection to which its work might be carried, while we ourselves are for ever in the dark as to this degree, and stand in need of much reflection, time, and practice, in order to perfect even one of our most trivial arts.