CHAPTER II

EVIDENCES OF THE EVOLUTION OF MENTAL POWERS

From what has been said in the foregoing pages it is evident that not only our bodily equipment but also our mental manifestations――which latter are often regarded as abstract, and merely concomitant with changes in the brain-substance rather than physically the direct outcome of such changes――these have a deeply rooted origin in the remote beginnings of living things. Space has permitted me to approach the faculty called _memory_ only from the developmental standpoint. I have selected it because, while we have evidence to show that _memory_ is not confined necessarily to the workings of the Brain alone (the other cells of the ‘_soma_’ or body, participating in the manifestations of this phenomenon), and therefore while its supposed purely mental origin in embryonic existence may be considered as incomplete, nevertheless the conscious mental workings of this marvellous faculty after birth are of primary importance in connection with the rise and advancement of morality. Subservient, and revolving, so to speak, around Memory, as the plants round a solar system, are

[Sidenote: _Psycho-biological analysis of mental faculties_]

such emotions as _Joy_, _Sorrow_, _Fear_, _Anger_, _Love_, etc., and some of these we have already touched upon from the developmental point of view. Other expressions of mental activity of great importance and complexity, such as _Curiosity_, _Imitation_, _Imagination_, _Admiration_, etc., have also evolved, and their presence can be traced far down the trunk of the ancestral tree. But the evidence of their evolution must for the most part be assumed; for even a comparison of these faculties with the same in man is a subject which I cannot here touch upon, except in some of the cases which have come under my personal notice. If the reader wishes to pursue this subject further let him glean from the pages of Darwin’s _Descent of Man_, and he will see, in the chapter on this theme, an array of marshalled facts which leaves no room for doubt.

I will confine my attention to observations which I have made on the powers of _Imitation_, _Attention_, _Imagination_, and _Admiration_ among some of the lower animals. My subjects have been pigeons, hawks, dogs, cats, and horses, all of which except the last were at one time or another my own particular pets. And I would add that in each case the particular faculty in question has been strongly developed during the animal’s tenure of captivity. I shall also recount a few more

[Sidenote: _Hawks: faculty of Attention_]

cursory observations on animals in Zoological Gardens. I have always had a particular fancy for hawks. Attracted by their beauty of form, bold, fearless, and honest expression of eye, their hardiness of nature together with the rough and ready way in which, when one has gained their confidence and love, they will exhibit affection, are points to which I have paid much attention. I have kept a succession of hawks ever since my boyhood, and have noticed on many occasions remarkable instances of the development of a faculty which should be capable of expansion in them, namely _Attention_. This I say because the brain of a hawk may be well described as an _eye-brain_, the sense of sight being developed altogether out of proportion to the other senses. One of my Kestrels, which was a female, would attend so eagerly to a sudden rush and bark of a little dog when near the cage that I could lift up one foot, gently close the bird’s talons, and shake ‘hands.’ The reason of this concentrated attention was that the hawk associated the sudden barking with the presence or possible approach of a black cat which periodically came round and tried to purloin the meat, an

## action usually checked in the nick of time by the canine custodian.

The bird loved music; a soothing lullaby, constantly repeated, would call forth so marked contentment (as the bird gazed with steadfast look into one’s face) that one could stroke her feathers, a proceeding much objected to under ordinary mental conditions. A friend staying on a visit, who has a passionate love for animals, took a great fancy to my pet, and this was strongly reciprocated. One evening as the bird stood on a table, she lent over her and in whispering tones commenced a soft lullaby. So charmed, I might say almost mesmerized became the listener that she took no notice of a miniature doctor’s gown, of bright red and blue material being laid across her shoulders; and it was not for several minutes afterwards, when she awoke from her reverie at the cessation of the music, that she beheld her strange guise, and then with a swift stroke of her claws pulled off the garb.

[Sidenote: _Hawks: faculty of Imagination_]

This hawk was strongly imaginative, as the following incident will illustrate. On approaching her coop with a hard black felt hat on my head, she never recognized me, and exhibited considerable dread of my presence. I cannot say that I have quite discovered the reason, but it would appear that she conjured up in her mind a vague mental picture of something animate or otherwise which she had probably once upon a time seen and which frightened her, and that she associated its form with my harmless head-gear. The timidity can hardly be the outcome of inherited experience, for no natural enemy that I know bears a semblance to the rim of my hat, which I think is the part she feared

[Sidenote: _Fear associated with Imagination_]

most. Rooks and especially ravens often mob and drive away from the cliff this species of Hawk, but I fear it would be far-fetched for me to entertain the notion that my hat appeared as an effigy of one of these swarthy combatants, especially as my bird never saw either cliff or raven in its life. Indeed the _colour_ of my hat was not the real cause of alarm, as is seen by the fact that a person dressed entirely in black without the hat on, approaching instilled no fear. And so, as an ultimate suggestion, I ask, _was the colour coupled with the form of my hat_ conceived as resembling the feline lurker above referred to?――and, if we admit this, we must allow for considerable elasticity of the bird’s imaginative faculty. At all events, whatever was her cause of fear, it seemed unwarranted, for I have never tried to induce fright――in fact, when wearing the hat, I have sought to distract attention by the offer of food; but this has been of no avail.

[Sidenote: _Pigeons: faculty of Attention_]

Most of us are aware that in pigeons both sexes take on the task of incubation. But sometimes the female will leave her eggs for a short period in order to obtain food, when she will return for another spell on the nest before exchanging duties with her mate. When she is on the ground, the male usually feeds for a short time with her; but, if she delays too long, he hunts her back to the nest. Among my own pigeons I have observed how a female which remained off her eggs too long, after several offences drew the attention of her mate so markedly that, on attempting to come off her eggs again he immediately flew after her and, pecking at her vigorously, succeeded in sending her back at once to her maternal duties――in fact he showed distinctly that he did not intend to allow her to leave the nest until it was time for him to take on his share of incubation.

[Sidenote: _Cat: faculty of imitating voice-sounds_]

Illustrative of the faculty of imitating voice-sounds I cite the following: In a large male tabby-cat which showed great aptitude for performing tricks I managed to develop a curious double call-note. I incidentally noticed this strange sound, which the cat first made when he had a severe throat affection. Unable to produce the usual prolonged ‘_mew_’ when about to receive his saucer of milk, he endeavoured to show me his wants by two little ejaculations resembling the barks of a puppy. During his illness he made these sounds at very frequent intervals of the day, and it occurred to me that, if I gave him milk each time he uttered them, he might associate this generosity on my part with the abnormal sounds he produced. As the cough passed away, and the normal prolonged single-syllabled ‘_mew_’ returned, I used to hesitate before putting the saucer to the ground. At first there was no response, but soon the bitter disappointment which seemed to enter the feline mind at being refused its drink in response to many a plaintive ‘_mew_’ seemed to awaken in his memory recent associations of ideas suggestive of the repetition of the double note. The moment I heard this I placed the saucer of milk on the floor and thus after some difficulty I succeeded in developing a permanent double call-note in this domestic pet. Here it would appear that the cat learned to retain by imitation an abnormal sound which emanated from himself originally; though I must have helped on the power of this faculty by my own mimicry of the abnormal sound which I often repeated when bribing the animal.

[Sidenote: _Dogs: faculty of Imagination_]

Imagination is highly developed in Dogs. Their intellect is so bright and their disposition so sympathetic that it is an easy matter to beguile them into the belief that harmless inanimate objects may possess ‘evil spirits.’ One of my small dogs always stole away from me with uncoiled lowered tail if I showed her a black bottle, and this dread of the uncanny is simply due to the fact that the first time I showed the bottle I uttered a few remarks in a grave tone similar to those which I would adopt if she put her muddy paws on my coat or committed a like trivial offence. This fear is hardly comparable to that displayed when a dog is shown the whip, for in the latter case the animal has probably been on many previous occasions severely hurt by the actual use of the lash. If a few gravely uttered sentences once made were sufficient to deter the animal from approaching a certain object, why did the same animal jump on my lap repeatedly with muddy paws when the bottle was not visible? In the latter action correction had been more repeatedly and stringently enforced――indeed I have often shown annoyance, as one naturally would, at one’s new clothes being smeared with mud. The answer to the question seems obvious. The dog had acquired a permanent love for her master: she longed for petting and caresses. When she saw him sitting on a chair, she, on entering the room, bounded on his lap, forgetful in her excitement of previous corrections. But a black bottle was an object concerning which she was absolutely indifferent to originally, and would have passed it by in the street without further ado. When, therefore, she saw her master (whom she was wont to revere with almost complete religious-like submission) introducing her in grave warning tones to this curious object, her imagination began to expand, and her original indifference, passing through phases of suspicion or curiosity, became lengthened out into a _permanent superstition_.

[Sidenote: _Dogs: belief in Spirits_]

Several dogs that I have kept have indulged in the habit of uttering a melancholy whine during moon-light. I used to think that the light shed from the moon itself was the direct cause of such utterances, but it has been pointed out that, as dogs stare not at the moon but at some fixed point on the horizon, their “imaginations may be disturbed by the vague outlines of the surrounding objects, and conjure up before them fantastic images: if this be so, their feelings may almost be called superstitions.” Returning to observations made on a pug-dog, I may add that she was fully sensible of _Admiration_; by decking her out with a bright blue or scarlet ribbon tied in a big bow round her neck, by praising her with pleasing tones and friendly pats (especially in the presence of a circle of human admirers), she would sit up and start a sort of chattering conversation, often in little ejaculations of two or three syllables; then pause; and then start the

[Sidenote: _Dogs: faculty of Admiration_]

same again, this being kept up for some time. Increase of conversation, especially when addressed to the animal, would encourage this action, which was accompanied with the fullest amount of facial expression possible――indeed a faint incipient smile appeared as the upper lip was softly raised and retracted. This expression was quite distinct from the raised lip seen during a snarl; for, in the latter case, the other facial muscles of combat were brought into action. This chattering sound to which I have just referred had evolved from a few short sharp barks impatiently emitted when I neglected to throw bits of biscuit after asking the dog to “beg.” And instead of always throwing the bits at once, and thereby stopping the barks, I used to address the dog in somewhat similar tones to its own, but I added to the syllables: by repeating this on many occasions when giving food, I managed to call forth response. Ultimately I could set the chattering going by warm adulation alone.

[Sidenote: _Dogs: faculty of Mimicry_]

While dogs are highly imaginative, I do not think they possess much faculty for mimicry; yet there are some remarkable instances, cited by observers of repute, illustrating to what a remarkable degree this can be brought out. The instance which I have given regarding the chattering, and which has been developed partially along the lines of mimicry, is all I can recount in the case of dogs. But, curiously enough, many instances are cited of dogs (which have been reared by cats) licking their own paws and then rubbing their faces and ears (such a well-known action of the cat). I had a cocker spaniel which indulged in this habit quite frequently, though not exclusively, and yet his only intercourse with cats has been to chase them off the premises.

[Sidenote: _Horses: belief in Spirits_]

Returning to the question of the faculty of _Imagination_ culminating in an elemental superstition in lower animals, I will just refer to one of many cases which I have witnessed in Horses. A horse, yoked to a light trap containing two occupants besides myself, was being driven down an avenue. Peeping over a hedgerow of an adjacent garden was a large sun-flower, which the animal observed some little distance off. Drawing near, he watched it so steadily that several pulls of the reins failed to turn his head. Arriving opposite the inflorescence, he stopped momentarily, and, not in a fearful but rather in an intensely curious way, stared at it. A slight breeze caused the plant to sway forward, whereupon the animal commenced to bolt. The curiosity here aroused, which ended in the animal’s short halt to investigate this strange object, seems to me to indicate some dim idea in the animal’s

[Sidenote: _Horses: genuine fright at natural enemies_]

mind of the presence of something uncanny. The animal evidently regarded the sun-flower as a fetish. I am led to believe this inasmuch as such action differs markedly from the immediate stampede which even a well-trained, quiet, and fully-grown horse will make at its natural and real enemy, a lion or a tiger, should even only the head of one of these beasts appear afar off.

In regard to the faculty of Imagination occurring in wild beasts confined behind prison bars, it is quite amazing to observe what may or may not present itself as a fetish. I placed a reflex camera with a _large telephoto lens_ close to a cage tenanted by a lion and a lioness. The camera was slung from my shoulders. I had hardly commenced to manipulate the instrument when the animals, becoming conscious of the uncanny stare of a cyclopean monster (lens), instantly stampeded, performing a series of catherine-wheel actions round their den. In an adjacent cage was a panther. On seeing “cyclops,” this feline retreated to a corner and commenced to growl and hiss, changing corners as I moved diagonally in front of the bars. Reflex cameras now-a-days are used so extensively in zoological gardens and menageries that the animals, unless freshly imported, take little notice of them; however, it was not my camera alone which brought such consternation to the king of beasts and his queen; it was the _unusually large lens_ (“the eye of cyclops”) no doubt very seldom seen in a Zoo――which shocked them. The uncanny may be something very small. On one occasion I saw a puma very much frightened at the sight of a white mouse sitting on the back of a man’s hand placed close to the cage; a similar case has been recorded of a tiger being terrified when a mouse, tied by a stick, was inserted into its cage, the great beast, crouching in a corner, trembled and roared in a paroxysm of fear. We are superstitious of tiny creatures of human form (Fairies). Perhaps the tiger entertained a similar mental state of a fairy quadruped!

Having related these instances, and before leaving the question regarding the mental powers as exhibited in the animal kingdom, I will remark that the tendency to imagine Spiritual Essences in natural objects evidently has had its origin in creatures below the human race, a point of much importance in pursuing one’s inquiries into the origin and value of the ethical code in relation to primitive and more advanced theologies, and into the real value which we must endeavour to attach to so-called right and wrong. When Charles Darwin’s dog, which he describes as a full-grown and very sensible animal, growled fiercely and barked at the open parasol on the lawn which the wind slightly moved, having no knowledge of the cause, a dim ethical aspect of the matter took possession of the animal’s mind: was it right or wrong to permit such a strange ‘living’ agent to cause this movement? In his ignorance, the dog condemned this cause of action, but ethically he was wrong in so doing, for he gained nothing, nay rather expended

[Sidenote: _Ethics of effects in the ignorance of the causes_]

unnecessary energy in barking at the effects of the wind; and, for aught we know, this uncalled-for expression of his feelings may have disturbed the balance of nature’s equilibrium among the creatures which lay around him. I cite this example because we see on a far larger scale so many parallels of boisterous expressions poured forth not only by ignorant savages but by civilized, nevertheless superstitious, people, in their endeavours to solve the problems of supposed Right and Wrong, the effects of which they witness but of the causes of which they know nothing, and about which they often frame the wildest and most fantastic conjectures.

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