Many animals provide magazines, on which to subsist during the winter. This appears to be the result of a long process of reasoning; of which the impossibility of obtaining supplies during such period, the amount necessary, the manner of bestowing it, and the kind of provision which is not perishable, may be the most obvious. If all these points were not heeded, the consequence would be fatal. To satisfy present hunger, a simple impulse might be sufficient; but to anticipate distant wants, the exercise of an intelligent principle is requisite. The ant, the bee, the squirrel, the rat, and the beaver, are distinguished instances of this forethought.
If the argument of Paley is sound, that contrivance forms design, and from design we infer intelligence, it applies with emphasis to all constructed animal habitations. The nests of birds, the cells of the bee, the spider's web, the mound of the ant, and the hills of the termites, may be cited. Contrivance and construction seem to be impossible without the constant exercise of a reflecting principle; while economy of labor and time indicates the correctness with which this principle directs the conduct.
Again: If the sentinel of a small party should discover an enemy approaching, he would know, should they reach the encampment, that his companions would be captured; but if he apprized them of the peril, they might escape. This is simply ascertaining the relation of cause and effect; on such conclusions he alarms his mates, and they retreat. We know that many animals not only act the same in view of similar premises, but deliberately prepare for the emergency, like a garrison, by placing sentinels on the watch: now, since their actions are uniformly the same in a great variety of cases, and exactly analogous to the actions of men under similar motives, the same inference results; that such actions in both cases were caused by a reflecting or reasoning principle; and that this principle must perform its functions in nearly if not exactly the same manner, in men and in different animals, to produce such similar conduct. As instances, parrots, jays, crows, ants, marmots, and the chamois, may be referred to.
The ancients attributed intelligence, in its purest sense, to many animals, especially to the elephant and the horse. In one of the passages quoted, Pliny, the naturalist, after describing the ingenious method of the ants, in 'shoving with their shoulders' the larger bits of grain, says: 'There is in them in every deed, reason, memory, and care;' the expression breaks out from him like an irresistible conviction. Virgil also observes that they are 'mindful of the approaching winter;' and he refers to their order, and division of labor. If inquiry should be directed to that industry which accumulates not only beyond present, but even future necessities, it could be accounted for on no other supposition, than as a consequence of reasoning upon the necessity of preparing for the day of need.
Let us turn for a moment to the fables of Æsop. It is remarkable that these first attempts at moral philosophy should have come down to us with such freshness as to be almost without the marks of antiquity; and yet one of their most interesting features is the correctness, so far as we know, with which animals have been invested with their natural characteristics. We still ask
'Astuta ingenuum vulpes imitata leonem?'
and are yet inclined to charge the raven with vanity for being cheated of her meat, as represented in the fable, by the flattery of the fox. We also admire the closing reproof: Εχεις χοραζ νους δε γε λειπει. The artifice of the creature, from his well-known habits, sits upon him with peculiar fitness; and there is nothing very incongruous in allowing him to speak it out. This incites an inquiry into the nature of cunning and artifice, by which animals evade their enemies or take their prey. The fox, for example, obtains a knowledge of external things by the same agencies that man does; and makes a ready and skilful use of such perceptions to obtain some end. When pursued, he frequently runs in the bed of some shallow creek, to conceal every trace of his scent and footsteps; or runs back upon his own track for some distance, and then branches off, to puzzle his pursuers. He evidently knows the means by which he is followed, namely, his scent or foot-prints, and he devises a plan to render them both useless. Much might be said of the artifices of different animals, to decoy and ensnare their prey. Without the aid of reason it would be utterly impossible to form such plans; and beside, from these very stratagems we infer intelligence, and intelligence is of course an intellectual emanation.
Much also might be said of the elephant: indeed, his history alone would furnish sufficient facts to elucidate the whole subject; but the unexpected length of this article prevents the insertion of only a few notices. It is said that if he has been ensnared and escapes, he is afterward very cautious while in the woods, and breaking a large branch from a tree with his trunk, he sounds the ground before he treads upon it, to discover if there are any pits in his passage.[2] He exhibits the same kind of deliberation while passing a bridge. The Indians make use of him to carry artillery over mountains. When the oxen, yoked two and two, endeavor to draw up the mountain the piece of artillery, the elephant pushes the breech of the gun with his forehead; and at every effort that he makes he supports the carriage with his knee, which he places near the wheel.[3] An analysis of these operations would result in the same inference, that such actions were in consequence of reason.
An anecdote of a bird appeared a few months since, bearing the marks of authenticity. She had built her nest by a stone quarry, and during incubation was frequently alarmed by the blasting. She soon learned that the ringing of a bell preceded an explosion, and like the laborers, at this signal she retreated to a place of security. This feat having been discovered, some spectators succeeded in deceiving her a number of times by false alarms. The imposition however was soon detected; and she did not afterward fly at the sound of the bell, unless the workmen also retired. If this incident be true, (and there is nothing improbable in it,) reasoning, and that too of no obtuse character, is as legibly stamped upon this conduct, as if the brain had been uncovered, and we had seen, were it possible, with our own eyes its secret work.