CHAPTER III

EVIDENCES OF THE EVOLUTION OF THE MORAL SENSE

One might first be inclined to think that the upgrowth of the moral sense would develop alongside the upgrowth of the mental powers――I mean that the more complicated structurally the Brain became the more elaborated and complex would become codes of ethics. But in the long stem-history of Biological Genealogies we see in many of the side-eddies which are carried from the main stream of evolution evidences not only of arrested progress but of decided degeneration,

[Sidenote: _Arrest of progress in Evolution_]

and so the growth of morality does not go on in all cases _pari passu_ as the antiquity of the organic evolutionary factor is prolonged. In Ants, Bees, and Wasps, for instance, one sees the ethical side of life brought into far greater evidence than in many of the vertebrate animals. The lines of conduct of these insects are directed along many and diversified paths, but herein lies such an extensive study that I must only make a passing reference to the subject. Lord Avebury has

[Sidenote: _Habits of Ants_]

said: “The Anthropoid apes no doubt approach nearer to man in bodily structure than do any other animals; but when we consider the habits of Ants, their social organization, their large communities, and elaborate habitations; their roadways, their possession of domestic animals, and even in some cases of slaves, it must be admitted that they have a fair claim to rank next to man in the scale of intelligence.” Ants as a class adopt an extraordinarily active and varied mode of existence, and while their industry is not surpassed by that of Bees and Wasps, which work all day and in warm weather often at night, trustworthy

[Sidenote: _Ants: times of relaxation from work_]

observers tell us that Ants indulge in amusements or “sportive exercises,” and will raise “themselves on their hind-legs and caress one another with their antennae, or engage in mock warfare, etc.” A striking habit is that of licking one another to assist in cleaning. It has also been stated that if Ants are only slightly hurt or are unwell their companions will tend to their wants; though, when badly injured or very ill, they are removed from the nest and left to die. Ants, then, speaking generally, possess attachment and affection for their fellows, and moreover there are individual differences between them as between men. These insects are in deadly earnest when engaged in warfare; their military tactics are wonderfully organized, their army possessing soldiers, scouts, drivers, and so on. The natural history of such delightfully interesting creatures deserves special attention, and no doubt there is ample room still for observers to add to our present store of knowledge regarding them. But space does not permit me, moreover I hardly wish, to emphasize the mental powers of these insects, which, though very apparent, may be, for the most part, if not _in toto_, the results of inherited experiences and performed from the beginning of their _imago_ existence almost in an automatic manner. However, the few instances regarding their habits which I have set

[Sidenote: _Ants: moral sense_]

forth undoubtedly stamp these creatures as possessed of a remarkable moral sense, but whether self-consciousness, as we know it, of their sense of morality exists is quite another, and I fear an unanswerable, question. Among certain vertebrate animals the moral faculty is well developed in many directions, and the number of instances illustrating mutual aid, succour in distress, and concerted action in battle, that have been given, appear to broad-minded persons as examples of elevated ethical standards of conduct. As in the case of the mental powers displayed by lower animals, I shall here confine my remarks regarding the faculty of the moral sense to those examples which have come under my personal notice: such cases are not necessarily confined to animals in a state of captivity.

[Sidenote: _Moral sense in Gulls and Terns_]

One cannot but admire the marked attention which a flock of Gulls or Terns, exhibits when one of their number has been winged and lies struggling on the water. The gunner, should he remain close by, is ignored, and therefore other members of the flock within gun-shot range run the risk of losing their lives. That the attentiveness of the flock carries with it tenderness of feeling, an anxious curiosity, a

[Sidenote: _Attitude towards the wounded_]

wish to do something to get the fallen comrade either on the wing again or out of sight of the danger zone, is shown by the way the members fly gently to and fro, every now and again sweeping to the water as though encouraging the cripple to try to rise, while others higher up scream loudly for succour as they steady themselves on hovering wings. Those of us whose eyes are trained to the different forms of flight in the same species would unhesitatingly say that here in their movements the birds were fully sympathizing with the unfortunate position of their fallen companion. As we gaze for a little time on the scene of

## action, we are led to ask the question: What more can these birds do?

Unable to convey the wounded to a place of safety, they linger on, and by their presence appear to comfort their companion in distress. Such an ethical aspect is in itself worthy of note, but the case is of more than usual interest because, in their endeavours to bring happiness not

[Sidenote: _An example of Natures far-reaching code of ethics_]

only to their flock but to their wounded individual these sympathetic birds unconsciously become the means of establishing a second and more far-seeing ethical code. For Nature, whose inexorable law of the Struggle for Existence formulates that we live for the general good rather than for the general happiness, here shows the destiny of the wounded bird as it is mercifully hurried to its doom, more quickly than had its comrades abandoned it at once. For the screams of the Terns have attracted a large predatory bird on the scene. Nature has thus conferred a double benefit: she has put out of pain a poor fluttering cripple, which, had it lived, could have been of no use to the community, and in her economical manner has fed at the same time one of her predatory creatures.

[Sidenote: _Birds as sentry-guards_]

The services which birds of a given order render to one another when feeding in company are well known to all observant ornithologists. Let me here refer to what I have seen in the case of Geese. One, two, or three, or even more act as sentinels, taking up their position at the edge of the flock. The sentinels eat but little, being constantly on the look-out until relieved of their duties by some other members. Many other cases of out-posted sentinels in flocks of ducks, curlews, and rooks have come under my personal observation.

Often and often have I observed the still more remarkable and praiseworthy methods of mutual aid afforded by _many birds_ of _many diversified species_ gathered together in a vicinity (which may cover a very large area) against the common enemy. Let the hawk appear in swooping flight with destructive purpose (and very cognisant indeed are the small birds of this movement); let the cat prowl and crouch along the hedgerow or dare to come out on the open with the glare of hunger in its flashing orbs, then the air becomes filled with the loud, ringing, defiant battle-cries and alarm-notes of blackbirds, thrushes, finches, buntings, warblers, and others, each and all of which will boldly mount on wing to assail the feathered brigand, or will fearlessly dash down, mob, and so harass the prowling feline that cover is gladly sought without further delay.

Passing over the well-known moral sense of mutual aid rendered by mammals when danger threatens, such as the stamping of the hind-foot of the rabbit, and of the fore-foot of the sheep, I may conclude this chapter by referring to some points illustrating the ethical sense in fierce predatory animals. The Grey (or Hooded) Crow robs eggs, steals nestlings, and attacks and pulls to pieces disabled creatures often much larger than itself. And yet (as I have seen and elsewhere described) a slender defenceless Redshank may forage amid

[Sidenote: _Ethical code of fierce predatory animals_]

the seaweed alongside his powerful companion without the least fear of being attacked. It is true that the Crow confines his attacks to nestlings and cripples: albeit, considering the Crow’s strength and opportunities of attack, it is remarkable with what amicableness the two species forage together to satisfy a common want. No doubt the Crow’s power of refraining from attacking unwounded adult birds has become a deeply rooted instinct, and that the Redshank knows by an equally deeply rooted instinct that it is safe in the company of the former; but this lesson we learn, namely that non-combatant creatures are not living in a constant dread of those which periodically make ferocious and determined attacks. This point I shall now endeavour to bring out much more clearly in dealing with purely flesh-eating animals. Many persons are in the habit of branding predatory animals with such undeserved characters as, ‘_savage beasts_,’ ‘_treacherous brutes_,’ and so on. This might lead one to think that multifarious species of defenceless creatures live in a constant dread of being seized every time a Hawk, a Cat, or some other animal of prey made its appearance. Far from this being the case, there are several hours of the day in which little birds combine into a flock, and enjoy mobbing the Hawk as the latter soars, satiated with food, in graceful circles. From its leisured flight I am satisfied that the Hawk enjoys the sport

[Sidenote: _Fraternity between the Prey-catcher and his prey_]

and audacity of his minor companions, any one of which he can so easily pick up after a short pursuit when hunger calls his destroying instincts into action. Falcons nest on the same cliffs with guillemots, razorbills, puffins, kittiwakes, and other birds; and, while the former kills three or four per day, the colonies of sea-birds appear to enjoy a contented and happy existence, and attend assiduously to their duties of incubation and rearing of the young. And, furthermore, one finds to what an extent the moral sense can be brought out in predatory animals bereft of their natural offspring. Cats are well known to suckle and

[Sidenote: _Conduct of predatory animals bereft of offspring_]

live in harmony with many species which go to form their natural prey, and I am of the opinion that the case of cats rolling on the ground and purring in the presence of birds is an indication of affection and not treachery, as some observers think. Birds are often not the least alarmed and seem to have some intuitive knowledge when a cat is not hungry. I have seen them remain quite close to a cat which was in a caressing mood, though naturally they will, and wisely, refuse to be actually caressed by feline talons, lest mistakes might arise! My Kestrel Hawk, with screams of anger flew at my pug-dog when the two first met, but after a brief introduction they formed such a bond of friendship that the hawk demonstrated its affection by jumping on its companion’s back, or striking at her in play with its foot, or gently pecking the crown of the head with its beak. Moreover, the hawk, when liberated in the garden, always kept alongside the dog for protection from the black cat.

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