As innate.—This law is innate, inherent in the constitution of the animal, not acquired. It is not the result of education. The bird does not learn to build her nest, nor the bee her comb, nor the ant her subterranean chambers, by observing how the parent works and builds. Removed from all opportunities of observation or instruction, the untaught animal still performs its mission, constructs its nest or cell, and does it as perfectly in solitude as among its fellows, as perfectly on the first attempt as ever after. Whatever intelligence there is involved in these labors and constructions, and certainly the very highest intelligence would seem, in many instances, to be concerned in them, is an intelligence transmitted, and not acquired, the origin of which is to be sought, ultimately, not in the creature itself, but in the Author of all intelligence, the Creator of the universe. The intelligence is that not of the creature, but of the Creator.
Manifests itself irrespective of Circumstance.—It is to be further observed, with respect to the principle under consideration, that it often manifests its peculiar tendencies prior to the development of the appropriate organs. The young calf butts with its head before its horns are grown. The instinctive impulse manifests itself, also, under circumstances which render its action no longer needful. The beaver caught and confined in a room, constructs its dam, as aforetime, with whatsoever materials it can command, although, in its present circumstances, such a structure is of no possible use. These facts evidently indicate the presence and action of an impulse working blindly, without reflection, without reason, without intelligence, on the part of the animal.
Indications of Contrivance.—On the other hand, there are instances of brute action which seem to indicate contrivance and adaptation to circumstances. The bee compelled to construct her comb in an unusual and unsafe position, steadies it by constructing a brace of wax-work between the side that inclines and the nearest wall of the hive. The spider, in like manner, whose web is in danger, runs a line, from the part exposed to the severest strain or pressure, to the nearest point of support, in such a manner as to secure the slender fabric. A bird has been known, in like manner, to support a bough, which proved too frail to sustain the weight of the nest, and of her young, by connecting it, with a thread, to a stronger branch above.
These Facts do not prove Reason.—Facts of this nature, however interesting, and well authenticated, must be regarded rather as exceptions to the ordinary rule, the nearest approach which mere instinct has been known to make toward the dividing line that separates the brute from the human intelligence. They do not, in themselves, prove the existence of reason, of a discriminating and reflecting intelligence, on the part of the animal; for the same law of nature that impels the creature to build its nest or its comb, under ordinary circumstances, in the ordinary manner, may certainly be supposed to be capable of inducing a change of operation to meet a sudden exigency, and one liable at any time to occur. It is certainly not more wonderful, nor so wonderful, that the bee should be induced to brace her comb, or the spider her web, when in danger, as that either should be able to construct her edifice originally, at the precise angle employed. It must be remembered, moreover, that, in the great majority of cases, brute instinct shows no such capacity of adaptation to circumstances.
The Question before us.—We are ready now to inquire how far that which we call instinct in the brute, differs from that which we call intelligence in man. Is it a difference in kind, or only in degree? A glance at the history of the doctrine may aid us here.
Early Views.—From Aristotle to Descartes, philosophers took the latter view. They ascribed to the brute a degree of reason, such as would be requisite in man, were he to do the same things, and proceeding on this principle, they attributed to animals an intelligence proportioned to the wants of their nature and organization. This principle, it need hardly be said, is an assumption. It is not certain that the same action proceeds from the same principle in man, and in the brute; that whatever indicates and involves intelligence and reason, in the one case, as its source, involves the same in the other. This is a virtual petitio principii. It assumes the very point in question. It may be that what man does by virtue of an intelligent, reflecting, rational soul, looking before and after, the brute does by virtue of entirely a different principle, a mere unintelligent impulse of his nature, a blind sensation, prompting him to a given course. This is the question to be settled, the thing to be proved or disproved. And if the view already given of the character of brute instinct, is correct, the position now stated as possible, may be regarded as virtually established.
View of Descartes.—Descartes, perceiving the error of previous philosophers, went to the opposite extreme, and resolved the instinct and action of the brute into mere mechanism, a principle little different from that by which the weight moves the hands of the clock. The brute performs the functions of his nature and organization, just as the puppet moves hither and thither by springs hidden within, of which itself knows nothing. The bird, the bee, the ant, the spider, are so organized, such is the hidden mechanism of their curious nature, that at the proper times, and under the requisite conditions, they shall build, each its own proper structure; and perform, each, its own proper work and office. So doing, each moves automatically, mechanically.
Locke and his Disciples.—Differing, again, from this view, which certainly ascribes too little, as the opposite theory ascribes too much to the brute, Locke, Condillac, and their disciples in France and England, took the ground that the actions of the brute which seem to indicate intelligence, are to be ascribed to the power of habit, and to the law of association. The faculties of the brute, as indeed of man, resolve themselves ultimately into impressions from without. Nothing is innate. The dog scents his prey, and the beaver builds his dam, and the bird migrates to a warmer clime, from the mere force of habit, unreflecting, unintelligent. But how, it may occur to some one to ask, happens such a habit to be formed in the first place? How happens the poor insect, just emerging from the egg, to find in himself all requisite appliances and instruments for capturing his prey? How happens the bee always, throughout all its generations, to hit upon the same contrivance for storing its honey, and not only so, but to select out of a thousand different forms, and different possible angles, always the same one? And so of the ant, the spider, etc. And if this is a matter of education, as it certainly is not, then how came the first bee, the first ant, spider, or other insect, to hit upon so admirable an expedient?
The Scotch Philosophers.—On the other hand, Reid, Stewart, and the Scotch philosophers generally, departing widely from the merely mechanical view, have ascribed to instinct some actions which are properly automatic and involuntary, as the shutting of the eyelid on the approach of a foreign body, the action of the infant in obtaining its food from the mother's breast, and certain other like movements of the animal organization, which, according to recent discoveries in physiology, are to be attributed, rather to the simple reflex action of the nerves and muscles. This is not properly instinct.