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

by Thomas G. Gentry

FOUR ORPHANED ROBINS.
Kind-Hearted Bluebirds Assuming the Role of Parents.

While capable of showing sympathy for near as well as distant kin, the lower animals have also the capacity to sympathize with human beings in distress. Cats occasionally manifest a sympathy for suffering humanity. As for sympathy displayed by dogs, there is no need to cite examples. No human being, I am safe in saying, was ever free from troubles of some kind, and I am equally sure that no one who had a companionable dog felt that he was without sympathy. Full well does the dog know when his master is suffering pain or sorrow, and his nose pushed into his master’s hand, or laid affectionately upon his knee, is a sign of sympathy worth possessing, even though it exists only in the heart of a dog. From that moment there has been established a bond between the soul of the master and the dog, and certainly no one can believe that the bond can ever be severed by the death of the material body, whether of the man or the animal.

That Friendship, which is another branch of love, exists among animals, is a well-known fact. But it is among the domesticated animals that it most frequently exhibits itself. Horses, as every one knows, which have been accustomed to draw the same carriage are usually sure to be great friends, and if one be exchanged the other becomes quite miserable for want of his companion and seems unable to throw any spirit into his work. Dogs, too, are very apt to strike up friendships with each other. Among animals it is not confined to one species, but is occasionally found to exhibit itself in those which might be supposed to be peculiarly incongruous in their nature. That cows and sheep live, as a rule, on good terms with each other in the same pasture is a familiar experience, though sometimes the former are a little prone to domineer over the latter. But a very strong affection sometimes exists between animals so different, and when once they have accustomed themselves to each other’s society neither can be happy without the other. The goat and the horse frequently become friends, and a peculiarly vicious horse has been known to allow a goat to take undue liberties with him without the least manifestation of resentment. In many places the stable-cat is quite an institution. Its usual place of repose is upon the back of the horse, and the latter has been known to grow very uneasy if left for any length of time without the companionship of his little friend. A very singular instance of friendship occurred at the rural home of a near relative. He had a fine mastiff which had taken a fancy to a brood of young chickens, and which acted as their protector. They were not at all unwilling to accept him in this capacity, as they followed him about just as though he had been their mother. Quite an interesting sight it was to watch the dog and the chickens as they would take their siesta. The dog used to lie on his side, and the chickens would nestle all about him, though one chicken in particular would invariably scramble upon the dog’s head, and another just over his eye, but both parties appeared equally satisfied with this remarkable arrangement.

Already have we referred to the intense yearning which is felt by many of the lower animals for human society. This yearning is indeed but the aspiration of the lower spirit developed by contact with the higher in domesticated animals or those which are in perpetual contact with man. This feeling is a matter of no great surprise. But that it should be exhibited in feral animals and birds, and even in insects, is a fact well worth considering, as it furnishes a clew to some of the many problems of life which are as yet unsolved. That power of attraction exercised by the spirit of man upon that of the lower creation is well exemplified in many wild animals, who are known to forsake the society of their own kind for the companionship of the being whom they feel to be higher than themselves.

Perhaps one of the wariest of wild animals is the squirrel. He is horribly afraid of human beings, and if a man, woman or child come to the windward of him, the little animal is sure to scamper off at his fleetest pace, scuttle up the nearest tree, and conceal himself behind some branch. Yet, wild as he may be, he is peculiarly susceptible to the influence of the human spirit, and for the sake of human society will utterly abandon that of his own kind. I once knew a pet gray squirrel by the name of Charley. He had been taken from the nest when very young. His home for awhile was one of those whirl-about cages. Charley did not like his cage, but preferred to be outside in the unrestrained enjoyment of the dictates of his own free will. So it was difficult to keep him behind the bars. When awake he loved to follow his own devices; but when tired he usually slept on a soft cushion on the sofa, or found his way into some bed-room where he would nestle under a pillow. Nothing was more to his satisfaction and pleasure than a share of the bed of his mistress, but he was always a troublesome nest-fellow. Charley had, as must be obvious, perfect freedom. He was allowed to go as he pleased. There was no coercion in his case. Had he wished to escape, there was nothing to prevent, and nothing bound him to his mistress but an “ever-lengthening chain” of love and aspirations which none but a human being could satisfy. The sparrow, one of the most independent and self-reliant of birds, has been known to abandon its kind for the sake of human beings. Wood cites a case of a bird of this species that had been rescued from some boys who had been robbing the nest. The bird was brought home, but was never confined in a cage, but was permitted to fly freely about the house. As there was a cat about the house, she had to be closely watched lest she might do the bird some injury. On Sundays, when the family went to church and no one remained to keep an eye on the cat, the sparrow was turned into the garden, where it flew about until the family’s return. The opening of the dining-room window by its mistress, and the display of her ungloved hands, was the signal for its entry. But if the mistress stood by the window with her gloves on, then the bird showed not the slightest disposition to enter.

Such is the intensity of the love which the lower animals sometimes entertain toward man that they have been known to grieve themselves to death on account of his loss. A dog by the name of Prince, who lived in the family where the writer spent a few weeks of a summer, is a case in point. He had a good master, and one to whom he was strongly attached. The year before the master sickened and died, and Prince felt the loss so keenly that he refused to take any food, and even to notice the surviving members of the family. He was pitiable to behold. Life had lost all attractions to him, and he showed that he was slowly but surely grieving his life away. Some few weeks after the writer’s departure, the poor animal breathed his last, and his spirit, it is to be hoped, went to join that of his master, while his ashes became mingled with the dust of the earth as his master’s had been.

What a wonderful power do some animals have of returning to their beloved master, even though they have been conveyed to a considerable distance. This is especially true of the dog. So many examples of such feats are on record that I refrain from mentioning them, but will give but a single example. Rover, a pet greyhound that belonged to the writer, had become such an annoyance to the neighborhood where he lived, that the master determined to provide him a home in the country some fifty miles away. He was conveyed to his destination in a covered wagon, and after his new master had reached home, the poor animal was placed in a stable for several days, where he was daily visited and fed, and every effort possible made to attach him to the place and family. On the fourth day of his arrival he was given his freedom. With a long, loud wail he saluted the neighborhood, and the next moment was off at full speed across the country, all efforts to stop him being unavailing. In less than a week from his leaving he was at home again, hungry and jaded out with fatigue and travel, but not too tired nor too hungry to express the great joy he felt for the old master. How he ever accomplished the journey, and what vicissitudes and difficulties he encountered on the way, no one will ever know. After this I had not the heart to send him away again, but put up with his capers and tricks as best I could, and when complaints were preferred against him endeavored to excuse them as a parent is prone to do in the case of a spoiled and wayward child. But a day arrived when Rover to me was no more. What had become of him I was never able to discover, but I always blamed a near-by neighbor, a man who had neither love nor charity in his soul, for his sudden disappearance.

That cats are selfish animals, attaching themselves to localities and not to individuals, I do not believe. This idea has, perhaps, some ground of truth, for the nature of a cat is not so easy to understand as that of a dog. But when a cat is not understood, it is very probable that she cares less for the inhabitants of the house than for the house itself. Frequent instances are known by the writer where cats have been in the habit of moving about with their owners, and have been as much unconcerned as dogs would have been. True they have, like women, a curious and prying disposition. I have seen them in new and strange quarters go sniffing about every room of a house, and at last settle down in some cozy, comfortable place, well satisfied with their tour of investigation. Where the house fell short of their expectations, if they have been cats that have received due consideration from their mistresses or masters, they have tried to live down their objections and to learn to be happy and contented with their lot. Only cats that have not been much thought of are inclined to show their disapproval to changes of residence which they deemed unsuitable by refusing to stay with their masters. Blackie, a favorite cat of ours, never seemed to care where her home was, so long as her friends were there to pet, caress and pamper her with choice dainties.

All animals, so far as can be learned, have not only a capacity for the society of man, but an absolute yearning for it. This feeling may be in abeyance, from not having received any development at the hands of man, but it nevertheless exists, and only awaits to be educed by some one capable of appreciating the character of the animal. Tigers, as is well known, are not generally considered the friends of mankind, and yet the Indian fakirs will travel over the country with tame tigers, which they simply lead about with a slight string, and which will permit small children to caress them with their hands without evincing the least disposition to hurt them.

When we survey the examples of love displayed by animals towards human beings, which we have just detailed, and recall the hundreds that we know and have read about, is it possible to believe that such love can perish? We apprehend not. Unselfish love as this, which survives ingratitude and ill-treatment, belongs to the spirit and not to the body, and all beings capable of feeling such love must possess immortal spirits. All may not have an opportunity of manifesting it, but all possess the capacity and would, were the conditions favorable, manifest it openly.