In general we may say that, no matter what content we may wish to put into the term "suggestion," not a single fact has since come to light which would justify, and much less demand, the application of the term to lower forms, unless we would expand the definition of the term to the extent of comprising every kind of command, every arousal of ideas, whatsoever. But it would then be nothing but a new name for old knowledge[62] and would lose all explanatory value. (Hypnotism, so-called, in the case of horses, I shall discuss elsewhere in another connection.)
[AD] An illustration is given by Babinet[66] concerning the horse of an English lord. Mr. Burkhardt-Foottit, also, that excellent trainer, who has been master for more than forty of the most highly-trained horses, tells us that while sitting on a well-managed horse it sometimes happened that he had merely thought of making a certain turn, when the horse immediately executed it, before he, the rider, had to his knowledge given any sign or aid. An observation belonging under this head is also made in Tolstoi's "Anna Karenina"[67], this perfect mine of acute psychological observation. In the famous description of the race we are told concerning Count Wronskij riding his Frou-Frou just behind Machotin mounted upon Gladiator, who was leading the race: "At the very moment when Wronskij thought that it was time to overtake Machotin, Frou-Frou, divining her master's thought, increased her pace considerably and this without any incitement on his part. She began to come nearer to Gladiator from the more favorable, the near side. But Machotin would not give it up. Wronskij was just considering that he might get past by making the larger circuit on the off-side, when Frou-Frou was already changing direction and began to pass Gladiator on that side." Similar experiences might be gathered elsewhere. Not infrequently the reflection of the rider that his horse had not for a long time indulged in some trick peculiar to him, will immediately call it forth; or doubts on the part of the rider concerning the possibility of crossing some barrier, are often the cause of the horse's fall or of his refusal to leap and of his running away.
[AE] All the authors who have given practical suggestions for the training of horses, whether free or with lunging reins, have great faith in the efficacy of calls, but usually recommend a mingling of calls and movements in the way of signs, (thus Loiset,[71] Baucher,[72] von
Arnim[73]). It therefore cannot be stated just in how far the calls really effect anything. In other cases I am inclined to doubt outright the influence which is ascribed to the auditory signs. Meehan[74] gives an account of a horse that was exhibited in London in the early 90's of the last century. Pawing with his hoof, this horse apparently was able to count and answer questions in arithmetic, and among other accomplishments he was supposed also to be able to understand something of language. In reality, however, he merely responded to cues which were disclosed to the reporter by the trainer. In pawing, the horse was guided by movements of the trainer, and in nodding or shaking the head he reputedly got his cue from the inflections of the man's voice. Is it not probable that in this latter case it was the movements which accompanied speech that were alone effective in inducing the nod or the shake of the head, so that the exhibiter was deceiving not merely the public, but also himself? Perhaps we may also doubt the exposition made by the well-known hippologist, Colonel Spohr.[75] He tells us that it is easy to train horses to raise the left foot or the right foot in response to the commands "Left—foot!" or "Right—foot!" and that it will be the fore foot when one is standing in front of the horse, and the hind foot if one stands near the rear. It cannot be so very difficult, he thinks, even to get the horse to understand the commands "Left (or right)—fore foot!" and "Left (or right)—hind foot!"—and all without any other aids but the spoken words. Should this really be possible without even the slightest kind of designating movement?——The following case, again, I believe is undoubtedly based upon a misinterpretation. Redding[76] relates concerning his nineteen-year old horse that he himself had owned for thirteen years, and had always kept in single harness,——that this horse not only understood the meaning of a long list of words, such as: bureau, post-office, school, churchyard, apple, grass, etc., but he also knew a number of persons by name, as well as their places of residence. If he were told in advance to halt at a certain residence, he would do it without any further aid from the driver. For this reason the happy owner felt certain that the animal possessed a high order of intelligence and "that this horse does reason." What sources of error were here operative, whether signs were given by means of reins, or head or arm movements, could be determined only by a careful examination of the case.
And finally we would exercise some reserve in entertaining the suggestions for the acoustic education of horses which have come from various sources. Colonel Spohr[77] whom we have just been mentioning, thinks that it would not be a difficult matter to get a horse to respond with a walk to one smack of the lips, with a trot to two smacks, and with a galop to three, and then he could be made to slacken his pace once more into a trot in response to one long-drawn "Pst!" and to stop in response to two. Others have gone even further. Decroix,[78] at one time leader in veterinary affairs in France, conceived the idea of working out a universal language as regards the commands that are given to horses, in the humane purpose of sparing them the whip. He called it "Volapük hippique." For the commands "go," "right," "left," and "halt," he suggests these: "Hi!" "Ha!" "Hé!" and "Ho!" respectively. From these it was possible to make eight combinations, such as "Hi! Hi!" for "Trot!" "Hé! Hé!" for "Left about" (while the single "Hé" was to mean "Forward, to the left!") "Ho! Ho!" for "Back!" etc. Decroix thought that the whole system could be inculcated in a very few lessons. He even had a medal struck which was to be awarded to the driver or rider who should first exhibit a horse, thus instructed, to the Société Nationale d'Acclimatation de France (of which Decroix was president). Eight years have elapsed since then, but we have heard of no one who has earned the medal mentioned. In the future greater care will probably be exercised in the putting forth of such suggestions, and two sources of error may be guarded against, viz.: involuntary movements on the part of the rider or driver, and imitation of the horses amongst themselves. (One horse, guarded by an experienced rider, may serve as copy for ten others with inexperienced men in the saddle.)
[AF] General Noizet[79] has left us a story of the middle of the last century, which in essential detail corresponds closely with the one just given. The scene is a French chateau and the hero is—a rapping table, highly prized on account of the intelligent answers it could give. Seated about it were a number of ladies and at the other end of the room sat a French savant, a member of the Academy. The ladies requested him to put a simple mathematical question to the table, and complying with their request, he asked for the cube root of 4. None of the ladies who sat about the table knew the solution; the table unhesitatingly gave 6 raps. This answer was refused as incorrect. The table was asked to try again, and again it wrapped 6. For this it was bitterly reproached. Hereupon the questioner, who during the whole time had remained in his place at the other end of the room, came forward with the confession that the table was innocent, that he had made a mistake. He had asked for the cube root of 4, but had really meant to ask for the cube of that number, viz., 64, and the table had as a matter of fact given the first numeral of that number.
One is immediately struck by the analogy between this case and that of Professor Schillings. In both cases those immediately concerned (the women in the one, Mr. von Osten in the other) believe that a wrong answer is being given repeatedly. The cause of the error lies in a person who seemingly is not concerned with the response. (The Frenchman asked the question, but did not sit at the table. Professor Schillings sounded the notes, but it was Mr. von Osten who got the horse to tap.) In both instances the questioner asks one thing, but had something else in mind. (With the Frenchman it was a slip of the tongue; Mr. Schillings did it purposely.) And finally, in both cases the response corresponds not to the question that has been asked, but to that which has been thought, so that, though seemingly wrong, the responses of both table and horse were really correct. By way of explanation, Noizet believes that he has a case of true thought-transference or "telepathy" ([page 108]). The questioner watched with utmost attentiveness the rapping of the table, and the women in turn regarded the man. And thus, Noizet believes, the man's thought was transferred to the minds of the others without the mediation of eye or ear, etc., and hence unvitiated by the words that had been spoken. I myself prefer another explanation. At that moment in which the rapping arrived at the expected number, the Frenchman executed a movement characteristic of release of tension and to this the women of the circle reacted. It was not necessary that they should be able to account for this afterward, (just as sometimes occurs in the case of thought-readers[80]). It is very probable, too, that they were not of a very reflective turn of mind anyway. We are warranted, I think, in regarding the two cases as identical in kind.
[AG] Professor Flügel,[82] basing his statements on an article appearing in "Schorer's Familienblatt" (Berlin, 1890, No. 8, p. 128), gives an account of similar experiments which were supposed to have been conducted by the Zoological Society for Westphalia and Lippe, and presumably showed that "the horses of the military do not understand the bugle calls." No matter how well trained a horse may have been, it would not respond to a signal. This report, however, is due to a mistake. Such experiments have never been made by the society mentioned, so I am told by its director, Dr. Reeker. Nor do I know of any one else who has made experiments of this kind. However, Professor Landois,[83] the eminent zoologist, now deceased (founder of the scientific society mentioned), tested four circus-horses for their musical ability and specifically for their sense of musical time. He arrives at the conclusion that horses "have no feeling for time, whatsoever." With but few
exceptions,[84,] [85] all experts to-day are of the same opinion. Horse-trainers, especially, are universally agreed on this point. It is easy to see in any circus performance that it is not the horses that accommodate themselves to the music, but that the music accommodates itself to them, and that the trained horses[86] are induced to do their artistic stepping only by the aids given by their riders. Furthermore, all these horses are trained without the use of music.——It would therefore appear that the time had arrived when the tales of the dancing horses of the Sybarites ought no longer to gain credence. Two Greek writers, Athenaeus[87] and Ælian,[88] tell us that the inhabitants of Sybaris, far-famed for their luxurious habits, had trained their horses to dance to the music of flutes during their banquets. Building upon this, the men of Crotona, in one of their campaigns against the Sybarites, ordered the flute-players to play the tunes familiar to the Sybarite horses. Immediately the well-trained steeds began to dance, thus throwing the whole Sybarite army into confusion, and the men of Crotona won the day. (The same story is told in more detail concerning the horses of the inhabitants of Cardia. Both accounts, somewhat mixed, are to be found in Julius Africanus,[89] a writer of the third century of the Christian era.)—In recent years a French veterinary surgeon, Guénon,[90] experimented on the effect of music upon the horses of the military. He entered their stalls, playing upon a flute, and noted their behavior. Four-fifths of the animals, he says, were deeply moved, yes, delighted, even, ("charmés." One interpreter[91] calls it a case of hypnosis!). This emotional excitement was expressed—somewhat unaesthetically—by the dropping of excrementa. Guénon characterizes the feeling-state of these animals as being a mixture of pleasure and astonishment, of satisfaction and excitement ("mélange de plaisir et d'étonnement, de satisfaction et de trouble.") He also asserts that the horse's musical taste is similar to our own. But I can find nothing in his whole exposition which might prove this. Indeed there is nothing that could be interpreted as anything other than a purely sensuous effect upon the horses. I may go a step farther and say that thus far the sense of music, i. e., understanding of melody, harmony and rhythm, has not been shown to exist in any animal. Some animals may, however, be susceptible to the sensuous pleasantness of the tones themselves.
[AH] I cannot enter upon a discussion of the latest psychological problems, here involved, partly because that would take us beyond the purpose of this monograph, and partly because they are still moot questions and hence not suited to popular treatment. Briefly though, they are these: What is the nature of the relationship between cognitive and affective states on the one hand and involuntary, (so-called expressive) movements on the other? Is this connection an external thing, as it were, an association arising as a habit formation, or does every idea partake essentially of a motor character? Do purely cognitive states give rise to such movements, or does the movement impulse depend more particularly upon the affective consciousness accompanying the cognitive states? And in how far do given kinds of expressive movements depend upon certain ideational types (c.f. [page 95])? Thus, what is the influence of the visual image upon the gestures for "up," "down," etc.? And then, are these involuntary movements, when not noted, truly unconscious, or merely not attended to,——in other words, are they beyond the pale of consciousness or merely "at the fringe?" The various writers speak almost without exception of unconscious movements in the strict sense of the term. My own introspections, however, have led me to doubt whether they are quite unconscious. Since I have attained some practice I am able to describe in detail (under conditions of objective control) my involuntary movements, no matter how slight, even down to mere muscular tensions. None of my subjects, however, has as yet succeeded in this. It is no very easy matter to be on the lookout for some unknown movements which might eventually occur, while attempting to concentrate attention to the utmost upon a certain definite ideational content, for this very dividing of attention effects a decrease in the force of the movement, and thus makes it all the more difficult to discover. From my own experience, however, I am inclined to believe that these movements are not unconscious, but merely unattended to, in other words, we have a narrowing down of the apperceived content within certain limits, but not a narrowing down of consciousness, (much less a "splitting" of consciousness or of personality as the thing unfortunately has sometimes been called). In order, however, not to be guilty of premature judgment, I have avoided the terms "unconscious" and "unattended to," and chose expressions which leave these finer distinctions untouched.