i 74 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY. 



perors, or the four largest fruits. But this is not all. The number 

 four is still easy to transform into images, but that is no longer the 

 case when we come to higher numbers, such as seven, and, with still 

 more reason, 20, 100, 1,000, etc. Yet the large numbers are not more 

 difficult for us to conceive than the small ones. This is because we 

 represent them by conventional signs, or the figures. 



We must not, however, forget that some savage peoples can not 

 count beyond four or five. Sir John Lubbock tells in his paper an 

 anecdote of Mr. Galton, who, on one occasion, made a comparison of 

 the arithmetical comprehension of a Damara savage of South Africa 

 and a little dog. According to Mr. Galton, the comparison was not 

 to the advantage of the man. 



Let us now examine Sir John Lubbock's experiments. He wrote on 

 his cards such words as go, bone, water, food, etc., in phonetic orthog- 

 raphy, so as not to trouble his dog's head with the difficulties of English 

 spelling ; also words without significance to the animal, such as sim- 

 ple, nothing, ball, etc. ; and he had cards with nothing written on 

 them. 



Van the dog soon learned to distinguish the blank cards from 

 the written ones ; then he learned to attach an idea to some of the 

 latter ; and finally was able to fetch to his master the card that cor- 

 responded with his wish. To get a single meal he had to fetch some 

 eighteen or twenty of these cards, and he made no mistakes. 



Sir John Lubbock concluded from this success that Yan had learned 

 to read. In one sense, this conclusion is absolutely false, but that is 

 not the sense in which Sir John regarded the matter. In another 

 sense it was true, and this is the point on which we need light. 



There was never a dog whose master has not said and thought a 

 thousand times that he only lacked speech. In fact, the dog seems to 

 comprehend speech, and speaks in his expression. His eyes behind 

 which, according to Madame de Stael's fine expression, he seems to 

 conceal a human soul interrogate, supplicate, and answer ; his ears 

 are erected, or lop over ; his tail wags, and his whole body assumes 

 marked attitudes, not to be misinterpreted, of desire, joy, attention, 

 anger, repentance, fear, shame, and submission. Could he better ex- 

 press all of his feelings if he spoke ? Should we understand him any 

 better if he should say to us when he had been guilty of some misdeed, 

 " I deserve to be punished, but don't, I pray you, be too hard on me," 

 or if, after he had been corrected, he should politely thank us for our 

 moderation ? We perceive at once the distance between his language 

 and ours. One is natural, the other conventional. 



Does he understand our conventional language ? He does, and he 

 does not, but in the more exact sense he certainly does not. He 

 understands us when we give him our usual orders : " Down ! " 

 " Come here ! "." Go back ! " " Give me your paw ! " " Now, the other 

 one ! " " Seek it ! " " Bring it here ! " " Get out ! " But we forget that 



