INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS.
In discussing the intelligence of animals I am aware that many persons, at the outset, would question the propriety of the term. Man has so long arrogated the exclusive possession of mind, or at least of a mind capable of rational reflection, that he is reluctant to concede the fact of its possession by the lower orders of animate life. Those acts which, in the brute creation, seem to proceed from the action of powers analagous to human intelligence, it has been usual to ascribe to an irrational faculty called instinct; a power invariable and despotic in its action, but in no degree the result of reflection; some metaphysicians even going so far as to assert that the action of animals is purely automatic, the difference in this respect between them and the automaton moved by wires and springs being that the former possesses a consciousness of their acts, while the latter does not. Facts in myriads, exist which challenge the correctness of such a theory, while in almost equal number they assert the existence, at least in its embryonic state, of a mind capable of thought, and, to a limited degree, of reflection and comparison, with the ability to deduce conclusions from the facts which it considers.
This intelligence varies greatly in the different animal races, in some species being barely perceptible, while in others it is too conspicuous to be ignored; and between individuals of the same species there exists a difference so marked that, in the more favored ones which come under our observation, the intelligence is so clear as to almost startle us by the feeling that behind the full, liquid eye of the horse, or prompting the fixed gaze bent on us by our trusty canine companion, there may be a mind kindred to our own and which lacks only the power of articulate expression to respond to our thoughts by answering sentiments. It is the absence of the power of speech in animals which leaves us in doubt as to the exact degree of intelligence possessed by them. If, when the farmer says, “Carlo! the cows are in the corn—turn them out!” the dog should turn his head and reply, “Yes, sir, I’ll have them out in a moment!” there could be no doubt of the intelligent interchange of thought. But the fact of his doing that which in the supposed case he would express, proves as conclusively his comprehension of the command and his purpose to obey. The horse or dog, however fully he may understand the directions he receives, can give no other response than by his acts, and to words of praise or censure he can reply only by signs; these are clearly understood by us and show that our meaning is comprehended by the animal, thus proving a real interchange of thought. A popular author has said: “A dog may bark, a horse may neigh, but it is not by these sounds that they express the delicate shades of ever-varying emotion; it is by a thousand varieties of gesture which few indeed of us can analyze but which all clearly understand. A dog converses with his master by means of his eyes and his ears and his tail, nay rather by every muscle of his body.”
To test the existence and extent of intelligence we must determine the capacity for comprehending thought. We recognize this capacity in a child long before it can express itself in language. Its dawn is seen as the infant learns to associate certain articulate sounds with certain persons, acts, or things, and to distinguish the meaning of tones which encourage, restrain or chide it. It is only after a twelve-month or more of constant tuition, lovingly and intelligently given, that our children begin to express in language the thoughts which are awakened by our words and acts, yet the comprehension is as evident and the response as apparent, the whole mental process being as perfect, long before. The same test which proves the intelligence of the child demonstrates its existence in animals there is a similar power of comprehending the wishes expressed, by associating certain articulate sounds with certain acts required, as well as an equal recognition of the tones of voice by which approval, reproof or anger are made known; but, lacking the organs of speech, they are debarred, and forever must be, from any except the most limited interchange of thought. For this reason, attentive study is needed in ascertaining the extent to which they comprehend and respond to the intelligence which addresses them.
In the case of wild or undomesticated animals there is little opportunity for investigating this interesting subject. We see the beaver build his dam, and we understand the object so admirably attained by his work. We know that the elephant, to be taken in the pitfall, must see on the earth that covers it the foot-prints of one of his fellows, and we surmise the process of reasoning by which he concludes that he is safe in venturing where another of his kind has trodden. We learn that the ostrich which in torrid regions trusts to the heat of the sand for the incubation of her eggs, will in a more temperate latitude supply the heat which would else be lacking by setting on her eggs during the cooler nights; but in none of these, nor in a score of other cases, in which there seems a rational foresight, can we determine how far the acts result from intelligent reflection. In domesticated animals, and especially in such as are trained for the service of man, the action of intelligence may be clearly traced; it is demonstrated by the ease and certainty with which they can be educated; it is seen in the readiness with which many receive and act upon ideas communicated to them; and in a multitude of instances the mental process is evident by which they have, independently, reached conclusions rationally deduced from facts of their previous knowledge. Mr. J. Hope relates a circumstance of a terrier who had been temporarily left by his master in the care of a Mrs. Langford at St. Albans. This lady owned a large house-dog which, disliking the presence of the stranger, quarreled with him, biting and severely wounding him, after which the terrier disappeared; but in a few days he returned again, accompanied by a powerful mastiff, when both together fell upon the original assailant, whom they nearly killed. The mastiff was the watch-dog at his master’s house, more than a day’s journey distant, and had been brought by the terrier for the sole purpose of avenging the injury he had received, after which they left in company and proceeded together to their home. Here was displayed a power of combining ideas and of communicating them to one of his own kind, when the two acted on the plan they had preconcerted.
In a work just issued, an anecdote is related of a dog who had lost his master and afterwards became old and blind, passing his time sadly in the same corner, which he rarely quitted. “One day came a step like that of his lost master, and he suddenly left his place. The man who had just entered wore ribbed stockings as his master had done. The old dog had lost his scent and referred at once to the stockings that he remembered, rubbing his face against them. Believing that his master had returned, he gave way to the most extravagant delight. The man spoke; the momentary illusion was dispelled, the dog went sadly back to his place, lay wearily down, and died.” Here was a double process of reasoning and even a balancing of testimony with a decision that the negative evidence of the strange voice outweighed the affirmative proof in the step and the stockings.
Much evidence favors the belief that animals not only become familiar with the words habitually addressed to them, but that they, to a certain extent, understand our language. A dog, belonging to a friend of the writer, would slink from the room with every indication of shame if a fault of which he had been guilty was spoken of in his presence. The author of “Chapters on Animals” describes a dog in his possession which clearly distinguishes between those visitors at the house who are favorites with his master and those whom he dislikes, and adds: “I know not how he discovers these differences in my feelings, except it be by overhearing remarks when the guests are gone.”