A MASON-WASP 



species, will be equally unable to cope with. I could 

 give a host of similar examples to show that insects are 

 absolutely without reasoning power, notwithstanding the 

 wonderful perfection of their work. A long series of 

 experiments has forced me to conclude that they are 

 neither free nor conscious in their industry. They build, 

 weave, hunt, stab, and paralyse their prey, in the same 

 way as they digest their food, or secrete the poison of 

 their sting, without the least understanding of the means 

 or the end. They are, I am convinced, completely 

 ignorant of their own wonderful talents. 



Their instinct cannot be changed. Experience does 

 not teach it; time does not awaken a glimmer in its 

 unconsciousness. Pure instinct, if it stood alone, would 

 leave the insect powerless in the face of circumstances. 

 Yet circumstances are always changing, the unexpected 

 is always happening. In this confusion some power is 

 needed by the insect — as by every other creature — to 

 teach it what to accept and what to refuse. It requires 

 a guide of some kind, and this guide it certainly pos- 

 sesses. Intelligence is too fine a word for it : I will call 

 it discernment. 



Is the insect conscious of what it does'? Yes, and no. 

 No, if its action is guided by instinct. Yes, if its action 

 is the result of discernment. 



The Pelopaeus, for instance, builds her cells with earth 



[83] 



