The Dawn of Reason; or, Mental Traits in the Lower Animals

by Jr. James Weir

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.

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]

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]

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]

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!