The uniform expression of the emotions of man and Simian is such as to suggest that, if thought was developed from emotion and speech was developed from thought, that the expressions of emotion were the rudiments from which speech is developed.
A striking point of resemblance between human speech and that of the Simian is found in a word which Nellie used to warn me of approaching danger. It is not that sound which I have elsewhere described as the alarm-sound, and which is used only in case of imminent and awful danger; but this sound is used in case of remote danger or in announcing something unusual. As nearly as I can represent the sound by letters, it would be "e-c-g-k," and with this word I have been warned by these little friends many times since I first heard it from Nellie.
NELLIE'S ACTIONS ALMOST HUMAN
In the following experiment this sound was used with great effect. Nellie's cage occupied a place in my study near my desk. She would stay awake at night as long as the light was kept burning, and as I have always kept late hours, I did not violate the rule of my life in order to give her a good night's rest. About two o'clock one morning, when I was about to retire, I found Nellie wide awake. I drew my chair up to her cage, and sat watching her pranks as she tried to entertain me with bells and toys. I tied a long thread to a glove, which I placed in a corner of the room at a distance of several feet from me, but without letting her see it. I held one end of the string in my hand, I drew the glove obliquely across the floor towards the cage. When I first tightened the string, which I had drawn across one knee and under the other, the glove moved very slightly, and this her quick eye caught at the very first motion. Standing almost on tip-toe, her mouth half open, she would peep cautiously at the glove, and then in a low whisper would say "e-c-g-k"! And every second or so would repeat it, at the same time watching me, to see whether I was aware of the approach of this goblin. Her actions were almost human, while her movements were as stealthy as those of a cat. As the glove came closer and closer she became more and more demonstrative, and when at last she saw the monster climbing up the leg of my trousers, she uttered the sound aloud and very rapidly, and tried to get to the object, which she evidently thought was some living thing. She detected the thread with which I drew the glove across the floor, but seemed in doubt as to what part it played in this act. I saw her eyes several times follow the thread from my knee to the glove, but I do not think she discovered what caused the glove to move. Having done this for a few times, however, with about the same result each time, I relieved her anxiety and fright by allowing her to examine the glove, which she did with marked interest for a moment and then turned away. I tried the same thing over again, but failed to elicit from her the slightest interest after she had examined the glove.
SOUND OF WARNING
It will be observed that when Nellie first discovered the glove moving on the floor, as she attempted to call my attention in a low whisper, and as the object approached me she became more earnest, and uttered the sound somewhat louder, and when she discovered the monster, as she regarded it, climbing up my leg, she uttered her warning in a loud voice, not a scream or a yell, but in a tone sufficiently loud for the distance over which the warning was conveyed. The fact of her whispering indicates that her idea of sound was well defined; her purpose was to warn me of the approaching danger without alarming the object against which her warning was intended to prepare me; and as the danger approached me, her warning became more urgent, and when she saw the danger was at hand her warning was no longer concealed or restrained.
Another sound which these little creatures use in a somewhat similar manner, is a word which may be represented by the letters "c-h-i." The "c-h" is guttural like the final "ch" in German, and "i" short like the sound of "i" in hit. This sound is used to give warning of the approach of something which the monkey does not fear, such as approaching footsteps or the sound of voices; and this sound Nellie always used to warn my wife of my approach when I was coming up the stairway. The rooms which I occupied while I kept Nellie were located on the second floor, and the dining-room was on the ground-floor; and hence there were two flights of stairs between, both of which were carpeted. So acute was her sense of hearing, that she would detect my footsteps on the lower stairway, and warn my wife of my approach. She manifested no interest, as a rule, in the sounds made by other persons passing up and down the stairway, which indicated that she not only heard the sounds of my footsteps but recognised them. The first intimation she would give of my coming was always in a whisper. She would first make the sound "c-h-i," and then she would stop and listen. She would repeat the sound and listen again, and as I would approach the door in the hall she would lift her voice to its natural pitch, and utter this sound three or four times in quick succession; and when I turned the door-knob she would show some excitement, and when I entered the room she would always express her satisfaction with a little chuckle. This sound she did not use except to announce something of which she was not afraid, but when she apprehended danger from the cause of the sound, she would use the word "e-c-g-k," and when greatly alarmed she would use the sound which I have described in the former chapter as that of intense alarm or assault.
MONKEYS DO NOT TALK WHEN ALONE
Nellie was an affectionate little creature, and could not bear to be left alone, even when supplied with toys and everything she wanted to eat. When she would see me put on my overcoat, or get my hat and cane, she knew what it meant; and when she would see my wife, to whom she was much devoted, put on her cloak and bonnet, she at once foresaw that she would be left alone. Then she would plead and beg and chatter, until she sometimes dissuaded my wife, and she seemed aware that she had accomplished her purpose. I have watched her by the hour, through a small hole in the door, and when quite alone she would play with her toys in perfect silence, and sometimes for hours together she would not utter a single word. She was not an exception to the rule which I have mentioned heretofore, that monkeys do not talk when alone, or when it is not necessary to their comfort or pleasure; and while I am aware that their speech is far inferior to human speech, yet in it there is an eloquence that soothes, and a meaning that appeals to the human heart.