SOME HUMAN INSTINCTS. 167 



which was her reception-room. She first looked at the flame in a very fright- 

 ened way. I brought her near to it. She leaped away and ran to hide under 

 the bed. Although the fire was lighted every day, it was not until the end of 

 the winter that I could prevail upon her to stay upon a chair near it. The next 

 winter, however, all apprehension had disappeared. . . . Let us, then, conclude 

 that there are hereditary dispositions to fear, which are independent of expe- 

 rience, but which experiences may end by attenuating very considerably. In 

 the human infant I believe them to be particularly connected with the ear.* 



The effect of noise in heightening any terror we may feel in adult 

 years is very marked. The holding of the storm, whether on sea or 

 land, is a principal cause of our anxiety when exposed to it. The 

 writer has been interested in noticing in his own person, while lying 

 in bed, and kept awake by the wind outside, bow invariably each loud 

 gust of it arrested momentarily his heart. A clog, attacking us, is 

 much more dreadful by reason of the noises he makes. 



Strange men, and strange animals, either large or small, excite 

 fear, but especially men or animals advancing toward us in a threaten- 

 ing way. This is entirely instinctive and antecedent to experience. 

 Some children will cry with terror at their very first sight of a cat or 

 dog, and it will often be impossible for weeks to make them touch it. 

 Others will wish to fondle it almost immediately. Certain kinds of 

 " vermin," especially spiders and snakes, seem to excite a fear unusu- 

 ally difficult to overcome. It is impossible to say how much of this 

 difference is instinctive and how much the result of stories heard 

 about these creatures. That the fear of "vermin " ripens gradually 

 seemed to me to be proved in a child of my own to whom I gave a 

 live frog once, at the age of six to eight months, and again when he 

 was a year and a half old. The first time, he seized it promptly, and 

 holding it, in spite of its struggling, at last got its head into his mouth. 

 He then let it crawl up his breast, and get upon his face, without show- 

 ing alarm. But the second time, although he had seen no frog and 

 heard no story about a frog between whiles, it was almost impossible 

 to induce him to touch it. Another child, a year old, eagerly took 

 some very large spiders into his hand. At present he is afraid, but has 

 been exposed meanwhile to the teachings of the nursery. Preyer tells of 

 a young child screaming with fear on being carried near to the sea. 



Solitude is a source of terror to infancy. The teleology of this is 

 obvious, as is also that of the infant's expression of dismay the never- 

 failing cry on waking up and finding himself alone. 



* "Psychologie de l'Enfant," pp. 72-74, in an account of a young gorilla quoted from 

 Falkcnptein, by R. Hartmann (" Anthropoid Apes," " International Scientific Series," 

 vol. Hi, New York, 1886, page 265), it is said : " lie very much disliked strange noises. 

 Thunder, the rain falling on the skylight, and especially the long-drawn note of a pipe 

 or trumpet, threw him into such agitation as to cause a sudden affection of the digestive 

 organs, and it became expedient to keep him at a distance. When he was slightly 

 indisposed, we made use of this kind of music with results as successful as if we had ad- 

 ministered purgative medicine." 



