Intelligence in Plants and Animals / Being a New Edition of the Author's Privately Issued "Soul and Immortality."

by Thomas G. Gentry

Some few years ago, Prof. Cope had in his possession a tame Sai, which was kept in a cage, or, rather, was supposed to be kept in it, for the animal had a strong aversion to confinement, and was sure to break loose therefrom sooner or later. When in durance vile, and wishing to break prison, he always directed his attention to the hinges, and no matter how firmly they were fixed, he was sure before long to extract the staples, pull out the nails, and so open the door at the hinges, and not at the latch.

Finding that the cage could not hold him, his master had him confined by a strap fastened around the waist, after the fashion of monkeys. The strap, however, proved to be of no more use than the cage, for the crafty animal soon contrived to open it, and this he did by ingeniously picking out the threads by which the strap was sewn to the buckle, and so rendering the fastenings useless.

Again he was confined to the cage and carefully watched. Having rid himself of the strap, he began to consider how he might apply it to some useful purpose. So, having perceived that some food had fallen beyond his reach, he took one end of the strap in his paw, flung the other over the morsel of food, and so drew it toward him. In this feat he displayed great accuracy of aim, seldom missing the object which he desired. Once or twice, when he had to make a longer throw than usual, he loosened his hold of the strap. The first time that this happened, some one handed him the poker. He took it, drew the strap toward him, and resumed its use as before.

No intelligent person can deny that these acts were prompted by reason. So far from even being aided by instinct, the animal was certainly acting in direct opposition to it. The instinct of an animal when confined or tethered in any way is to break loose by main strength, and the instinct of the monkey would have impelled him to force his way through the bars of the cage or to strain at the strap until he had broken it in two. But it was his reason that taught him to look for the weak part in both cage and strap, and, having found it, to devote his energies to that part until he had succeeded in his object.

JACK AT DINNER.
Showing His Use of Table Implements.

Was it possible for instinct to teach him that the hinges were the weak part of his cage, and that, if he could only remove the staples or nails, the door would open and he would be free? Could instinct teach him that the stitches of the strap-buckle were to the strap what the staples and nails were to the hinges, and that if he could but pick out the threads, the fastenings of the strap would be rendered of no effect? Neither could instinct teach him to use the strap after the manner of a lasso, nor to employ the poker in regaining his lost weapon.

Not only did he thus show his ability to deal with the obstacles that stood in the way of his freedom, and without even the slightest suggestion from the mind of his master, but he also gave evidence that he had the capacity to profit by many of the civilities by which he found himself surrounded in the life in which he was placed. Monkeys are remarkable for their power of imitation, and Jack, as this Capuchin was called, proved himself to be no ordinary fellow in this respect. He had seen his master eat out of a dish, using knife, fork and spoon when occasion demanded, and nothing would do but an abandonment of his old habits—the using of his fingers, which his ancestors were wont to do—and the assumption of civilized practices. In time he became quite skilful in the use of these table implements and showed greater dexterity in handling them than many a man has shown. Accustomed to their use, he would never have things any other way. The writer has repeatedly been present when he was taking his meals. Seated upon the ground, his head and body slightly bent forward, with his plate of food before him, the ground serving him as a table, Jack would help himself in a quiet, cool and deliberate manner, all the while evincing in movement and look an air of the most consequential importance. To say that he was proud of the success which he had achieved in the correct use of table implements but tamely expresses the feeling which would dominate his bosom at such times. No human individual who had accomplished some wonderful discovery or striking feat at arms that had caused the earth to resound with his praises, could have felt more of the emotion than Jack. Indeed, it was a remarkable feat for Jack, and he had a right to feel vain over its accomplishment. All the while he was eating he would chatter in his uncouth guttural tongue, as though he had learned, like his human brethren, that conversation gave relish to a meal and was a powerful aid to digestion.

While Jack was a very useful fellow to have about, especially where cats without owners abounded, for he was a terror upon these feline nuisances, yet he had a few faults which detracted very much from his otherwise good character. Like some boys, he was addicted to the habit of throwing stones, but I am more than half disposed to believe that this was an acquired propensity, which he had learned by seeing his master engaged in a similar diversion, or perhaps, which is not at all unlikely, he had been trained to such exercise and pastime by his master. Well, he could throw stones with considerable force, and with as much precision as any well-trained lad of fourteen summers could do. Let the master but give him a stone, and say, “Now, Jack, hit that fellow,” and Jack needed no second telling. Throwing his right arm back, just as a boy would do, in order to give the necessary impetus to the missile, he would send the stone flying in the right direction. It required no little skill and celerity of movement to dodge the projectile, as the writer had more than once learned by painful experience, for Jack’s wonderful and well-directed aim seldom went astray of its purpose.

Towards his master Jack showed great deference and attention, and was ever ready to obey his slightest wish. No one’s society he enjoyed better. It was always a pleasure to be near him, but strangers he seemed to despise and treat as enemies. He would always eye them with a suspicious look, and could never tolerate their presence for any considerable length of time without giving vent to his annoyance by the most angry vociferations and hideous grimaces. Should this not have the effect of causing them to retire, he would emphasize his objection to their presence by pelting them with stones and such other missiles as were convenient to hand. That he had a considerable affection for his master, and respected him, no stronger evidence could be given than what has already been adduced.