MONKEYS RECOGNISE BY SIGHT
In a former chapter I have described the happy little family in Central Park, which consisted of the five little brown cousins, only a few months ago; but death has reduced their number to two. In this connection I shall mention a very important fact concerning the use of the natural senses of theseanimals. I have several times been assured that monkeys depended more upon their sense of smell than upon that of sight as a means of recognition, and that in this respect they were very much like the canines. I have made frequent tests of the power of their senses, and am prepared to say with certainty that such is not the case. When I visit the Park, I frequently enter at Sixty-fourth Street and Fifth Avenue, at which place there is a flight of stairs leading from the street down to a large plazza in front of the Old Armoury; and something more than a hundred feet from the foot of the stairway, and nearly at right angles to it, is a window opening into the monkey-house by the cage occupied by these particular monkeys. When I descend the stairway and come within view of this window, they frequently see me as I reach the plazza, and the keeper always knows of my approach by the conduct of the monkeys, who recognise me the instant I come in sight at that distance. At other times I have approachedthe house from another direction, and come within a few feet of their cage, where I have stood for some time, in order to ascertain whether they were aware of my presence; and on a few occasions have slipped into the house with the crowd, and they did not detect my presence except by sight. It is evident, if they depended upon the sense of smell, that they would have discovered my presence when so near them, although they could not see me. But no matter what the condition of the weather, or how many people are present, the instant one of them sees me he spreads the news, and every inmate of the cage rushes to the window and begins to scream at the top of his voice. If their sense of smell was such as to enable them to detect my presence as a dog would, it is reasonable also that the monkey which possessed the most sensitive organs would have been the first to detect it in each case; whereas, sometimes one monkey, and sometimes another, made the discovery. It is my belief, however,that their sense of smell is much more acute than that of man, but far less so than that of most other animals, especially the dog.HEARING VERY DELICATEThe sense of hearing in these animals is very delicate, as may be seen from the account of Nellie discovering my footsteps on the lower stairway, and as I have witnessed in scores of other cases. The same is true also of their sight; their eyes are like a photo-camera, nothing ever escapes them. I think their organs of taste are also quite sensitive, as I have made some tests from time to time, and find them very hard to deceive. The sense of touch, which is rather obtuse in most animals, is much more acute in these. I have frequently interlaced my fingers with those of some person whom they dislike, and extending the hand towards them, they rarely make a mistake by getting hold of the wrong finger, and yet it has frequently occurred that they could not see the hands at all, and had to depend alone upon the sense of touch. In cases where the hands were very nearly thesame size they were not able to select the fingers so readily, but where a lady's hand was used, or that of a boy, the selection was made without hesitancy and without error. I have tried this experiment a great many times with a view to ascertaining to some extent the delicacy of their sense of touch. Another fact that I may mention is, that they do not habitually smell articles of food or other things given to them; but they depend chiefly upon their sight for finding and their taste for choosing their food. My opinion is, that the sense of smell does not play an important part in these affairs. I may add, too, that, in the Cebus, his tail is perhaps the most sensitive organ of touch, although it is not used in this capacity to any great extent. He is generally very watchful over this useful member, because it serves him in so many ways, and I think perhaps it is safe to say that the tail is the last part of the monkey that ever becomes tame.
The Extent of my Experiments—Apes and Baboons—Miscellaneous Records of Sound—The Vocal Index.
The Extent of my Experiments—Apes and Baboons—Miscellaneous Records of Sound—The Vocal Index.
In quest of the great secret of speech, I have pursued my investigations chiefly in the direction of learning one tongue, but incidentally I have made many detours, and I have recorded the sounds of many other forms of the animal kingdom, besides primates. I have examined the phonation of lions, tigers, leopards, cats, dogs, birds of many kinds, and the human voice in speech, music, and laughter. Besides these, I have examined various musical sounds, especially of the pipe and whistle kinds.
More than a year ago I made some splendid records of the sounds of the two chimpanzees in the Cincinnati collection. Ihave not had the opportunity to study these apes themselves, as I desired to do, since they are kept so closely confined in a glass house, and for ever under the eye of their keeper, which conditions are not favourable to the best results. I am not prepared therefore to give much detail concerning their speech; but from a careful study of one cylinder containing a record of their sounds, I was able to discern as many as seven different phones, all of which come within the scope of the human vocal organs. I learned one of these sounds, and on a subsequent visit to Cincinnati I succeeded in attracting the attention of the female, and eliciting from her a response. She would come to the lattice door of the inner cage by which I was standing, and when I would utter the sound she would press her face against the door of the cage and answer it with a like sound. The male, however, did not appear to notice it with any degree of concern. I have no idea what the sound meant, and my opportunities have not beensuch that I could translate it with the remotest degree of certainty.STUDIES IN TROPICAL AFRICAThese apes will be one of the chief objects of my studies in tropical Africa, as I believe them to possess a higher type of speech even than the gorilla. In this opinion, which I reached from the study of other sounds and the types of skull to which they belonged, I am not alone: Mr. Paul Du Chaillu, Mr. E. J. Glave, and others who have seen both of these apes in their native habitat, agree with me on this point. I am aware that this view is not in strict accord with that of Professor Huxley, who assigns the gorilla the highest place next to man in the order of Nature, and the chimpanzee next below him. I shall not here attempt to discuss the question with so high an authority, and I must confess that the vocal index is not yet so well defined that it may be relied upon in classifying apes. One aim I have in view is to study the gorilla and chimpanzee side by side in their native wilds, and to record, if possible, the sounds of theirvoices in a wild state. From the study of the sounds I have made, I feel confident that all the vocal sounds made by these apes may be uttered by the human vocal organs.
Some months ago I made a record of the voice of the great Anubis baboon, in Philadelphia. I did not expect to find in him an elevated type of speech; but my purpose was to compare it with other Simian sounds, to see if I could not establish a series of steps in the quality of vocal sounds which would coincide with certain other characters. I had found by the study of certain cranial forms that certain vocal types conformed to certain skulls, and were as much a conformation thereof as are the cerebral hemispheres. I then believed, and have had no cause since to recede from it, that the vocal powers were correctly measured by the gnathic index; that the mind and voice were commensurate; and that as the cranio-facial angle widens the voice degrades in quality and scope. In man, I find the highest vocal type, and just as wedescend in the cranial scale, the vocal type descends into sounds less flexible, less capable, and less musical. These deductions apply only to mammals; among birds, insects, &c., a different order may prevail.
RECORDS OF LIONS
The records of the lions show some strange features in the construction of sound; and when analysed on the phonograph present some novel effects. The sound as a whole appears to be broken into broad waves or pulsations; but on analysing it the fundamental tones somewhat resemble the sounds produced by drawing a mallet rapidly across the keyboard of a xylophone, and are characterised by a peculiar resonance something like the tremulous vibrations of a thin glass containing a small quantity of water. Each of these separate fundamental sounds, or sound units as they appear to be, can be further reduced to still smaller vibrations; and the result suggests that the fundamental sounds themselves are an aggregation of smaller vibrations. I have not as yet beenable to compare the notes one by one with the scale of the xylophone in order to ascertain whether or not they obey the laws of sound upon which is founded the chromatic scale of music. The lion makes only a small number of different sounds, nearly of the same pitch. I have not analysed the vocal sounds of the other felines to ascertain to what extent they coincide with those of the lion; but his appear to be somewhat unlike any other sounds which I have examined.
Among the few sounds of birds which I have analysed, I may mention the Trumpeter Crane. I have made one record of this bird which was sufficiently loud to enable me to obtain some idea of the character of the sound. I am in doubt as to what the real mode of producing this sound is. The volume of sound evidently comes from the mouth of the bird; but while in the act of making it, he appears to bring the whole body into use, even the feathers appear to take some part in its production, and the whole frame of thebird vibrates in the act. The record which I have shows some resemblance, on analysis, to the sound made by the lion; but it is not sufficiently strong to admit of analysing the sound units or fundamental sounds.
DIFFERENCE IN PHONES OF GENERA
From the many sounds that I have analysed, it appears to me that there is a difference in the phones of all different genera, and that the phonetic basis of human speech more closely resembles that of the Simian than any other sounds; but I wish to be understood distinctly not to offer this in evidence to establish any physical, mental, or phonetic affinity between mankind and Simians. I merely state the facts from which all theorists may deduce their own conclusions.
Monkeys and the Mirror—Some of their Antics—Baby Macaque and her Papa—Some other Monkeys.
Monkeys and the Mirror—Some of their Antics—Baby Macaque and her Papa—Some other Monkeys.
I have incidentally mentioned elsewhere the use of the mirror in some of my experiments, but I have not described in detail how it affected various monkeys. Of course, it does not always affect the same monkey in the same way at different times, nor does it affect all monkeys of the same species in exactly the same way, and therefore I cannot deduce a rule from my experiments by which the species can be determined by its conduct before the glass.
PUCK AND NELLIE WITH MIRROR
When Puck saw himself in the mirror he undoubtedly mistook the image for another monkey, to which he would talk more freely than he would to the sounds made by thephonograph. He would frequently caress the image, and show signs of friendship; at the same time he was very timid and retiring.
Nellie would chatter to herself in the mirror, and seemed never to tire of looking at that beautiful monkey she saw there, and I do not think the propensity could be accounted for merely by her sex. I do not think she ever quite understood where that monkey was concealed, and the scores of times in a day that she would turn the glass around was evidence that she never fully despaired of finding it.
I accidentally dropped a small mirror one day by the cage in which there was a green monkey. The glass was broken into many small pieces. Quick as thought, the green monkey thrust her arm through the bars, grabbed the largest piece, and got it into her cage before I was fully aware of what she was trying to do. The fragment was about an inch wide by an inch and a half long. She caught a glimpse of herself in theglass, and her conduct was more like that of a crazy monkey than anything I can compare it to. She peeped into the fragment of the mirror, which she seemed to regard as a hole in something which separated her from another monkey. She held it up over her head at arm's-length, laid it down on the floor, held it against the wall, and twisted herself into every pose to get a better peep at that mysterious monkey on the other side of something, she could not tell what. When the glass was reversed, she seemed much perplexed, and would sometimes jump high off the floor, and turn herself entirely around, as if to untangle the mystery. Then again she would discover the right side of the glass, and would go through these antics again. Several times while holding it against the wall she would put her eyes close up against the glass, just as she would to a knot-hole in the wall. I tried in vain for some time to get the glass away from her lest she might injure herself with it, but only succeededafter considerable labour and through the help of her keeper.
McGINTY'S DELIGHT WITH MIRROR
McGinty always tries to find the image behind the glass. He reaches his little black hand as far as he can around behind it, peeps over and under it, pecks on the glass with his fingers, kisses and caresses it, and grins at it with infinite delight. He often tries to turn the glass around to look on the back of it, and when he finds no monkey there he works his eyebrows as if perplexed, and utters a sound which reminds me of a child under similar circumstances saying "gone" when in play something is concealed from it to make the child believe it is lost. Then he will suddenly turn the glass around again, as if the thought had just occurred to him, and when he again discovers the image, he will laugh, chatter, peep and peck at the glass, as if to say "There it is, there it is!" But, like all other monkeys, he does not quite understand where that monkey conceals itself when he peeps over the glass.
Mickie does not appear to enjoy the sight of himself in the glass. He always looks at it earnestly but doubtfully, and utters a low sound in a kind of undertone, frowns and scowls as though he regarded the new monkey as an intruder. He rarely talks to the image only with this low, muttering sound, and never tries to find it by reaching his hand behind the glass or making any other investigation. Mickie, however, has been very much petted, in consequence of which he is very selfish, just as children become under like treatment.
Little Nemo always looked at himself in the glass in the most inquisitive and respectful manner, without ever winking an eye or betraying any sign of emotion, except that he would caress the image in the glass over and over again by pressing his lips to it in perfect silence. Indeed, his conduct would suggest to you that he regarded the image as a portrait of some dear departed one, which awoke the tender memories of the past andfilled the heart too full for utterance. His sedate manners were very becoming.
Dodo always appeared to be afraid of the image. She would merely take a peep and turn away. She would sometimes utter a single sound, but rarely touched her mouth to the glass, and never felt behind it for the other monkey. This, perhaps, was due to the fact that she was afraid of some of the other inmates of the cage, and I do not think that she desired the colony increased.
Nigger always showed great interest in the mirror when left alone, but when the other monkeys would crowd around to peep into the glass he would always leave to avoid trouble with them.
"UNCLE REMUS," THE WHITE-FACE
"Uncle Remus," the white-face, always goes through a series of facial contortions with the gravity of a rural judge. He will look into the glass, and then at me, as if to say "Where did you get that monkey?"
The little baby Macaque, who was born in Central Park, tries to engage the image in aromp, reaches for it in the glass, clucks, jumps playfully to her perch, and looks back to see if the image follows; then she will return to the glass, and try again to induce the little ghost to join her in her play. Again, she will spring to her perch, looking back, but does not understand why it will not join her. During all this, the baby's father, a sedate old Macaque, looks on with suspicion and a scowl, and on a few occasions has pulled the baby away from the glass, as if he knew that there was something wrong, and expressed his opinion in a low, ominous growl. He reminds me at times of some people whom I have seen that look very wise, and intimate by their conduct that they know something.
Another little Macaque makes the most indescribable faces, and works her lips in that peculiar fashion which I have elsewhere described, but she does not utter one sound. She merely looks in silence, and never tries to find the monkey concealed behind the glass.
THE SPIDER MONKEY
The spider monkey is a study worthy of great minds. When shown her image in the glass, she takes her seat on the floor, crosses her legs, and fixes herself as if she expected to spend the day there. She will then look into the glass and utter a low sound, and begin to reach out her long arms in search of the other monkey. It is surprising to see how she will adjust her reach as you change positions with the glass. Of course, as you remove the mirror from her the image is removed accordingly, and she extends or contracts her reach to suit that distance. This is not, however, an evidence of her mathematical skill, since to her mind the image is doubtless a real thing, and she is governed by the same instinct or judgment in reaching for it as she would be if it were real. More than any other, the spider monkey seems to admire herself in the glass; notwithstanding she is about the homeliest of all the Simian tribes, yet she will sit for hours in almost perfect silence, and gaze upon her image.
Man and Ape—Their Physical Relations—Their Mental Relations—Evolution was the Means—Who was the Progenitor of the Ape?—The Scale of Life.
Man and Ape—Their Physical Relations—Their Mental Relations—Evolution was the Means—Who was the Progenitor of the Ape?—The Scale of Life.
If we could free our hands from the manacles of tradition and stand aloof from our prejudices, and look the stern facts in the face, we should be compelled to admit that between man and ape there is such a unity of design, structure and function, that we dare not in the light of reason deny to the ape that rank in Nature to which he is assigned by virtue of these facts. Physiologically, there is no hiatus between man and ape which may not be spanned by such evidence as would be admitted under the strictest rules of interpretation. We may briefly compare these two creatures in a broad and general way, sothat the unscientific and casual reader may comprehend.
MAN AND APE
The skeleton of man is only the polished structure of which that of the ape is the rough model. The identity of the two, part by part, is as much the same as the light sulky is the outgrowth of the massive framework of the old-time cart. Whether man and ape are related by any ties of blood or not, it is evident that they were modelled on the same plan, provided with the same means, and designed for like purposes, whatever they may be. The organs of sensation and the functions which they discharge are the same in both, and the same external forces addressing themselves thereto produce the same results. I do not mean to say that the same organ in each is developed in the same degree as that in the other, for this is not the case even in different individuals of the same kind. In the muscular system of the one is found an exact duplicate of the other, except in such slight changes of model as will betteradapt the parts to those conditions of life under which the animal having them may be placed, and through the whole physical structure of both we find that unity of part and purpose in structure and function, in bone, muscle, nerve, and brain. It has been shown beyond a reasonable doubt that the brain in the higher races of mankind has reached its present form through a series of changes which are constant and definite; and this organ in the lower types of man resembles more that of the ape than does the same organ in the higher types of man; and by a method of deduction, such as we use to determine the height of a tree or the width of a stream by the length of a shadow, we find that the fiducial lines which bound the planes in the perspective of man's cerebral growth, likewise embrace those of the ape. While it is a fact that the mind of man so far transcends that of the ape, it is also a fact that in reaching this condition it has passed through such planes as those now occupied by the ape.The physical changes of man's brain do not appear to keep pace with the growth of his mind. This may be a paradox, but the evidence upon which it rests is ample to sustain it.
MAN AND APE
I do not pretend to know whether man was evolved from ape, or ape from man; whether they are congenetic products of a common authorship, or the masterpieces of two rival authors; but I cannot see in what respect man's identity would be affected, whatever may be the case. If it be shown that man descended from the ape, it does not change the facts which have existed from the beginning, nor does it change the destiny to which he is assigned. If it can be shown that apes descended from man, it does not leave upon man the censure for this degeneracy. If man has risen from the low plane of brutehood which the ape now occupies, has scaled the barriers which now separate him from apes, and has climbed to the divine heights of mental and moral manhood, theape deserves no praise for this. On the other hand, if apes have fallen from the state of man, have wandered so far from the gates of light, and are now wandering in the twilight of intellect and degradation, it is no reproach to man; and while I shall not sit in judgment in the cause, nor testify on either side, I am willing to accept whatever verdict may be founded on the real facts, and I shall not appeal therefrom. But I shall not allow my prejudice to conceal the truth, whenever it is shown to me. It is always acceptable to my mind, and, stripped of all sophistry and oblique conditions, it would appear the same to every mind.
That evolution is the mode by which the world was peopled, there is little doubt, but there are many details yet unsettled as to the manner in which this was effected. I cannot regard the matter as proven beyond appeal that man has come from any antecedent type that was not man, nor yet do I deny that such may be the case; but I do deny thatthe broad chasm which separates man from other primates cannot be crossed on the bridge of speech; and while this does not prove their identity or common origin, it does show that Nature did not intend that either one should monopolise any gift which she had to bestow. It is as reasonable to believe that man has always occupied a sphere of life apart from that of apes, as to believe that apes have occupied a sphere of life apart from birds, except that the distance from centre to centre is greater between birds and apes than that distance between apes and man. So far as any fossil proofs contribute to our knowledge, we find no point at which the line is crossed in either case; and the earliest traces of man's physiological history find him distinctly man, and this history reaches back on meagre evidence many, many centuries before historic time. Among these earlier remains of man, we find no fossils of the Simian type to show that he existed at that time; but at a somewhat later period wefind some remnants of the Simian type in deposits of Southern Europe; but they are of the smaller tribes, and have been assigned to theMacacus. We cannot trace the history of this genus from that to the present time to ascertain whether they were the progenitors of apes or not; but between this type and that of apes the hiatus is as broad as that which intervenes between the ape and man.
That somewhere in the lapse of time all genera began, admits of no debate; and by inversion it is plain that all generic outlines must focus at the point from which they first diverged, and such an operation does not indicate that man and Simian have ever been more closely allied than they are at the present time; but the evidence is clear that man has been evolved from a lower plane than he now occupies. The inference may be safely applied to apes, as progress is the universal law of life.
The question has been asked, "Who is the progenitor of man?" The solution of thisproblem has engaged the most profound minds of modern time. If it be said in reply that apes were the progenitors of man, the question then arises, "Who was the progenitor of the ape?" If it be said that man and ape had a common progenitor, a like question arises, and it becomes necessary to connect all types allied to each other as these two types are physically allied. If man is the climax of a great scheme in Nature by which one type is gradually transformed into another, we must descend the scale of life by crossing the chasm which lies between mankind and apes, another lying between the apes and monkeys, another between the monkeys and baboons, another between the baboons and lemurs, and yet another between the lemurs and the lemuroids, and thus from form to form like islands in the great sea of life. From man to infinity the question constantly recurs, and over each hiatus must be built a separate bridge.
DARWIN'S PROFOUND WORK
Darwin has given to the world the most profound and conscientious work, and fromthe chaos and confusion of human ignorance and bigotry has erected the most sublime monuments of thought and truth. It does not detract from his character and honesty, nor lessen the value of his labours, to admit that he may have been mistaken in some conclusions which he deduced from the great store of facts at his command.
It is not the purpose of this work, however, to enter into a discussion of any theory aside from speech and its possible origin and growth, but all subjects pertaining to life, thought, and the modes of living and thinking, must contribute in some degree to a clear understanding of the subject in hand.
DARWIN'S SIN OF OMISSION
It has been a matter of surprise to me that so careful and observant a man as Mr. Darwin should have so nearly omitted the question of speech from a work of such ample scope, such minute detail, and such infinite care as characterises the "Descent of Man," and suchlike works. But science will cheerfully forgive an error, and pardon the sin of omission in one who has given to the world so much good.
The Faculty of Thought—Emotion and Thought—Instinct and Reason—Monkeys Reason—Some Examples.
The Faculty of Thought—Emotion and Thought—Instinct and Reason—Monkeys Reason—Some Examples.
The study of biology has revealed many facts which conspire to show that the incipient forms of animal and vegetable life are the same in those two great kingdoms; and parallel with this fact, I think it can be shown that the faculty of expression goes hand in hand with life. And why should not this be the case? From the standpoint of religion, I cannot see why the bounty of God should not be equal to such a gift, nor can I conceive of a more sublime act of universal justice than that all things endowed with thought, however feeble, should be endowed with the power of expressing it.From the standpoint of evolution, I cannot understand by what rule Nature would have worked to develop the emotions, sensations, and faculties alike in all these various forms, and make this one exception in the case of speech. It does not seem in keeping with her laws. From the standpoint of chance, I cannot see why such an accident might not have occurred at some other point in the scale of life, or why such anomalies are not more frequent. Man appears to be the only one. From any point of view we take, it does not seem consistent with other facts. All other primates think and feel, and live and die under like conditions and on like terms with man; then why should he alone possess the gift of speech?
FACULTY OF THOUGHT
I confess that such an inference is not evidence, however logical; but I have many facts to offer in proof that speech is not possessed by man alone. It is quite difficult to draw the line at any given point between the process of thought and those phenomenawe call emotions. They merge into and blend with each other like the colours in light, and in like manner the faculty of speech, receding through the various modes of expression, is for ever lost in the haze and distance of desire. The faculty of reason blends into thought like the water of a bay blends into the open sea; there is nowhere a positive line dividing them. When we are in the midst of one we point to the other, and say, "There it is;" but we cannot say at what exact point we pass out of one into the other.
THE POWER OF REASONING
To reason is to think methodically and to judge from attending facts. When a monkey examines the situation and acts in accordance with the facts, doing a certain thing with the evident purpose of accomplishing a certain end, in what respect is this not reason? When a monkey remembers a thing which has passed and anticipates a thing which is to come; when he has learned a thing by experience which he avoids through memory and the apprehension of its recurrence, is itinstinct that guides his conduct? When a monkey shows clearly by his actions that he is aware of the relation between cause and effect, and acts in accordance therewith, is it instinct or reason that guides him? If there be a point in the order of Nature where reason became an acquired faculty, it is somewhere far below the plane occupied by monkeys. Their power of reasoning is far inferior to that of man, but not more so than their power of thinking and expression; but a faculty does not lose its identity by reason of its feebleness. When the same causes under the same conditions prompt man and ape alike to do the same act in the same way, looking forward to the same results, I cannot understand why the motive of the one should be called reason, and that of the other called instinct. Scholars have tried so hard to keep the peace between theology and themselves, that they have explained things in accordance with accepted belief in order that they might not incur the charge of heresy. To this endthey have reconciled the two extremes by ignoring the means, and making a distinction without a difference on which to found it.
Whatever may be the intrinsic difference between reason and instinct, it is evident to my mind that the same motives actuate both man and ape in the same way, but not to the same extent. I am aware that many acts performed by Simians are meaningless to them and done without a well-defined motive. The strong physical resemblance between man and ape often causes one to attach more importance to the act than it really justifies. In many cases the same act performed by some other animal less like man would scarcely be noticed. To teach an ape or monkey to eat with knife, fork, cup and spoon, to use a napkin and chair, or such like feats, does not indicate to my mind a high order of reason; nor it is safe to judge the mental status of these creatures from such data. When he is placed under new conditions and committed to his own resources, weare then better able to judge by his conduct whether he is actuated by reason or not.
CONNECTING CAUSES AND EFFECTS
In any simple act where a monkey can see the cause connected with, and closely followed by, the effect, he is actuated by reason, and while he may not be able to explain to his own mind a remote or complex cause but simply accepts the fact, it does not make the act any less rational in a monkey than the same act would be in man where he fails to grasp the ultimate cause. The difference is that man is able to trace the connecting causes and effects through a longer series than a monkey can. Man assigns a more definite reason for his acts than a monkey can; but it is also true that one man may assign a more definite reason for his acts than another man can for his when prompted by the same motives to the same act.
The processes, motives, acts and results are the same with man and ape; the degree to which they reason differs, but the kind of reason in both cases is the same.
I shall here relate some instances in my experience and leave the reader to judge whether reason or instinct guided the acts of the monkeys as I shall detail them in the next few paragraphs. It will be remembered that these were new conditions under which the monkeys acted.
I taught Nellie to drink milk from a bottle with a rubber nipple. While I would hold the bottle, it was easy for her to secure the milk; but when she undertook it alone, she utterly failed. The thing which puzzled her was how to get the milk to come up to her end of the bottle. She turned it in every way, and held it in every position that she could think of, but the milk always kept at the other end of the bottle. She would throw the bottle down in despair, and when she saw the milk flow to the end having the nipple, she would go back and pick it up, and try it again. Poor Nellie worried her little head over this, and again abandoned it in despair. While trying to solve themystery, she discovered a new trick. While the bottle was partly inverted she caught hold of the nipple, and squeezed it. By this means she accidentally spurted the milk into the faces of some ladies who were watching her. This afforded her so much fun that she could scarcely be restrained, and while she remained with me she remembered this funny trick, and never failed to perform it when she was allowed to do so. It was no trouble for her to connect the immediate effect to the immediate cause. But she could not for a long time understand that the position of the bottle or the location of the milk in it had anything to do with the trick. In the course of time, however, she learned to hold the bottle so that she could drink the milk, and she also discovered that it had to be held in a certain position in order to play her amusing trick.
Another instance was in the case of a little monkey, heretofore described by the name of Jennie. When you would throw a nut, justout of her reach, she would take a stick which had a nail in the end, and rake the nut to her. She never took the wrong end of the stick, and never placed the nail on the wrong side of the nut. Her master assured me that she had not been taught this, but had found the stick and applied it to this use. When she did not want any one to play with her or handle her, she would coil her chain up and sit down on it to keep any one from taking hold of it.
It is not an uncommon thing for monkeys to discover the means by which their cage is kept fastened, and they have frequently been known to untie a knot in a rope or chain, and thus release themselves. I have known a monkey that learned to reach its hand through the meshes of the cage, and withdraw the pin which fastened the hasp and thus open the door and get out. The keeper substituted a small wire, which he twisted three or four times in order that it could not be released. The monkey realised that the wire performedthe duties of the pin and prevented the door from opening. He also knew that the wire was twisted and that this was the reason he could not remove it. I have seen him put his hand through the meshes of the cage, catch the loose end of the wire and turn it as though he was turning a crank. He evidently knew that the twist in the wire was made by such a motion and his purpose was to untwist it, but so far as I know he never succeeded in doing so. I have frequently seen a monkey gather up his chain and measure his distance from where he stood to the point at which he expected to alight, with the skill and accuracy of an engineer.
A gentleman of my acquaintance assured me recently that during his sojourn of two years in the Island of Sumatra, he had in his service a large orang. This ape did many chores about the place, and performed many simple duties as well as the other domestics did.
On one occasion, this ape was induced togo aboard a steamer which lay in the harbour. The purpose was to kidnap him and carry him to Europe. Either through fear, instinct, reason, or some other cause, this ape jumped overboard and swam ashore, although he was naturally afraid of water. From that time on to the end of the gentleman's residence there, he assures me that whenever a steamer made its appearance in the harbour, the ape would take flight to the forest, where he would stay as long as the vessel remained in sight. He was seen from time to time, but could not be induced to return to the house until the vessel had departed.
A few years ago, I saw on board the United States receiving shipFranklin, a bright little monkey which was kept chained in a temporary workshop built on the gun-deck. Her chain was just long enough to allow her to reach the stove. The day was pleasant outside, but in the shade a trifle chilly. The little monk descended from the sill on which she usually sat and carefully felt the top ofthe stove with her hands. Finding it slightly warm, although the fire had died out, she mounted the stove and laid the side of her head on the warm surface. She would turn first one cheek and then the other, and continued rubbing the stove with her hands. Not finding it warm enough, she jumped down on the floor, opened the stove door with her hand, and slammed it two or three times. She then picked up a stick of wood lying within reach, and tried to lift it to the stove. The stick was too heavy for her to handle, so she would lift up one end of it and drop it heavily on the floor with the evident purpose of attracting the attention of her master. Again she would open and slam the door, lift up the end of the stick and drop it, and utter a peculiar sound, showing in every possible way that she wanted a fire. She finally picked up a small stick and stuck the end of it into the ashes in the front of the stove. She knew that it was necessary to put the wood into the stove; she knew whereto put it in, and, while she could not do it herself, she knew who could put it in. Her master told me that she would gather up the shavings from the floor when they came within her reach and pile them up by the stove. He also told me that he frequently gave her a lighted match when he had prepared the fuel for building a fire, and that she would touch the match to the shavings and start the fire. She never ventured to get on the stove without first examining it to ascertain how hot it was.
Another feat which she performed was to try to remove some tar from the cup in which he gave her water and milk. The cup had been lined with tar as a sanitary measure to prevent consumption, and she was aware that the tar imparted an unpleasant taste and odour, hence she tried very hard to remove it from the cup. Was this instinct?
Speech Defined—The True Nature of Speech—The Use of Speech—The Limitations of Speech.
Speech Defined—The True Nature of Speech—The Use of Speech—The Limitations of Speech.
SPEECH DEFINED
What is speech? I shall endeavour to define it in such terms as will relieve it of ambiguity, and deal with it as a known quantity in the problems of mental commerce. Speech is that form of materialised thought which is confined to oral sounds, when they are designed to convey a definite idea from mind to mind. It is, therefore, only one mode of expressing thought, and to come within the limits of speech, the sounds must be voluntary, have fixed values, and be intended to suggest to another mind a certain idea, or group of ideas, more or less complex. The idea is one factor, and sound the other, and the two conjointly constitute speech. The empty sounds alone,however modulated, having no integral value, cannot be speech, nor can the concept unexpressed be speech. Separately, the one would be noise, and the other would be thought; and they only become speech when the thought is expressed in oral sounds. Sounds which only express emotion are not speech, as emotion is not thought, although it is frequently attended by thought, and is a cause of which thought is the effect. Music expresses emotion by means of sounds, but they are not speech; and even though the sounds which express them may impart a like emotion to the hearer, they are not speech. The sounds which express crying, sighing, or laughter, may indeed be a faint suggestion of speech, since we infer from them the state of the mind attending the emotions which produce them, yet they are not truly speech. To be regarded as speech, the expression must be preceded by consciousness, and the desire to make known to another the sensation by which the expression is actuated.As the impulse can only come from within, it appears that emotion is one source from which thought is evolved, and speech is the natural issue of thought. Desire gives rise to a class of thoughts having reference to the sensations which produce them, and such thoughts find expression in such sounds as may suggest supplying the want. As the wants of man have increased with his changing modes of life and thought, his speech has drawn upon the resources of sound to meet those increased demands for expression. It appears only reasonable to me that thought must precede in point of time and order any expression of thought, for thought is the motive of expression, and the expression of thought in oral sounds is speech.NATURE OF SPEECHSpeech is not an invention, and therefore is not symbolic in its radical nature. True, that much that is symbolic has been added to it, and its bounds have been widened as men have risen in the scale of civil life, until our higher types of modern speech have departed so far fromthe natural modes of speech and first forms of expression, that we can rarely trace a single word to its ultimate source. And viewing it as we do from our present standpoint, it appears to be purely symbolic; but if that be so, then we must deny the first law of progress, and assign the origin of this faculty to that class of phenomena known as miracles, which once explained by increasing the mystery what we could not understand, and served at the same time to conceal the exact magnitude of our ignorance; but as we added little by little to our stock of knowledge, such phenomena were brought within the realm of our understanding, and to-day our children are familiar with the causes of many simple effects which our forefathers dared not attempt to solve, but reverently ascribed to the immediate influence of Divinity. If speech in its ultimate nature is symbolic, what must have been the condition of man before its invention, and how did he arrive at the first term or sound of speech?He did not invent sound nor the means of making it. He did not invent thought, the thing which speech expresses, and it is no more reasonable to believe that he invented speech than to believe that he invented the faculties of sight and hearing, which are certainly the natural products of his organic nature and environments. So far as I can find through the whole range of animal life, all forms of land mammals possess vocal organs which are developed in a degree corresponding to the condition of the brain, and seem to be in every instance as capable of producing and controlling sounds as the brain is of thinking: in other words, the power of expression is in perfect keeping with the power of thinking. From my acquaintance with the animal kingdom, it is my firm belief that all mammals possess the faculty of speech in a degree commensurate with their experience and needs, and that domestic animals have a somewhat higher type of speech than their wild progenitors. Why are all forms of mammalsendowed with vocal organs? Why should Nature bestow on them these organs if not designed for use? One or the other of two conclusions seems inevitable. As a law of evolution and progress, all organs are imparted to animals for use and not for ornament. It seems consistent with what we know of Nature, to suppose that the vocal organs of these lower forms are being developed to meet a new requirement in the animal economy, or having once discharged some function necessary to the being and comfort of the animal, they are now lapsing into disuse and becoming atrophied. If they are in the course of development, it argues that the creature which possesses them must possess a rudimentary speech which is developing at a like rate into a higher type of speech. If they are in a state of decay or atrophy, it argues that the animal must have been able to speak at some former period, and that now, in losing the power of speech it is gradually losing the organ. In eithercase, the organs themselves would be in a state of development in harmony with the condition of the speech of the animal.LIMITATIONS OF SPEECHThe function which speech discharges is the communication of ideas, and its growth must depend upon the extent of those ideas; and in all conditions of life, and in all forms of the animal kingdom, the uses of speech are confined to, and limited by the desires, thoughts, and concepts of those using it. Its extent is commensurate with requirement. To believe that there was a time in the history of the human race when man could not speak, is to destroy his identity as man, and the romance of thealaluscould be justified from a scientific standpoint only as a compromise between the giants of science and superstition. Among the tribes of men whose modes of life are simple, whose wants are few, and whose knowledge is confined to their primitive condition, the number of words necessary to convey their thoughts is very limited. Among some savage races there arelanguages consisting of only a few hundred words at most, while as we rise in the scale of civil and domestic culture, languages become more copious and expressive as the wants become more numerous and the conditions of life more complex. As we descend from man to the lower animals, we find the types of speech degenerate just in proportion as we descend in the mental and moral plane, but it does not lose its identity as speech. Through the whole animal kingdom from man to protozoa, types of speech differ as do the physical types to which they belong. But as the same vital processes are found throughout the whole circle of life, so the same phonetic basis is found through the whole range of speech.
The Motives of Speech—Expression—The Beginning of Human Speech—The Present Condition of Speech.
The Motives of Speech—Expression—The Beginning of Human Speech—The Present Condition of Speech.
In vital economy, the search-light of science has found the protoplasm which from our present state of knowledge seems to be the first point of contact between elemental matter and the vital force. What secrets of biology remain unknown within the realm of life, only those who live in the future may ever know. In the first condition of vitalised matter we find the evidence of autonomy. Whatever may be the ultimate force which actuates this monad, the manifestations of its presence and the result of its energy are seen externally. Whatever may be the nature of that force which imparts motion to matter, the first impulse of the biod is to secure foodor to associate itself with a unit of its own kind. This is perhaps the first act of volition within the sphere of life, the first expression of some internal want, and is the first faint suggestion of a consciousness, however feeble; and I may add with propriety, that it is my opinion that the vital and psychic forces operate in a manner not unlike the electric and chemical forces. They appear to polarise, and in this condition act on matter in harmony with that great law of Nature under which positive repels positive and attracts negative, andvice versâ. We shall not attempt to follow the tedious steps of progress from inanimate matter to man, but begin with those intermediate forms which are so far developed as to utter sounds and understand the sounds of others. We will deal only with tangible facts as we find them. From whatever source expression may arise, or at whatever point it may appear, it is prompted by desire or some kindred emotion, either positive or negative.