June 23, 1887J 



NATURE 



^11 



subtle and close, but the two elements can be easily separated. 

 It avails nothing to say that until the thought is placed under a 

 concept, it is not a thought. This is a mere question of defini- 

 tion, not of actual fact. 



I would point out one other consideration. If Prof. Miiller's 

 theory were true for all kinds of thinking, development would be 

 impossible. If man could not think without language, and could 

 not have language without thinking, he would never have had 

 either, except by a miracle. And scientific men will not accept 

 the alternative. We can conceive shadowy thoughts gradually 

 shaping to themselves a language for expression, and we can 

 understand how each would improve the other, until by constant 

 interaction, a higher process of thought was introduced. But 

 vvc cannot conceive the sudden appearance of the faculty of 

 alistraction together with its ready-made signs or words. 



I have often wished that Prof. Miiller would state distinctly 

 how his theory accounts for the very first beginnings of language. 

 I have not been able to discover any explanation of this point in 

 his " Lectures on the Science of Language." 



Clapham, June 6. Arthur Ebbels. 



As poets have extraordinary inklings and apcfctis on the nnst 

 abstruse scientific questions, Wordsworth's opinion on this 

 matter (quoted by De Quincy) is worth considering : Language 

 is not the ^' dress" of thought, it is the *^ incarnation." This is 

 Shelley's rt/t-r^// of Darwinism. Man exists " but in the future 

 !i'l the past; being, not what he is, but what he has been 

 iiul shall be." 



How to "distil working ideas from the obscurest poems" — 

 to use Lord Acton's words — is one of the secrets of genius. 



A. Grenfell. 



The interesting discussion between Mr. Francis Galton and 

 I'rof. Max Miiller on this subject will doubtless raise many 

 questions in the minds of those who have paid some attention to 

 the habits of animals. I have been asking myself whether, if 

 Prof. Max Miiller is right in his conclusion — " Of course we all 

 admit that without a name we cannot really know anything" 

 (an utterablc name, I presume), and " one fact remains, animals 

 have no language " — animals must not, therefore,'.be^held by him 

 incapable of knowing anything. This would bring us to the 

 question whether animals kno%u in the same manner as men, or 

 in some other manner which men do not understand. Now, I 

 think — at least it is as strong a conviction as I am capable of 

 entertaining — that animals not only know, but deal with the 

 materials of knowledge — facts— in a manner quite indistinguish- 

 able from the manner in which I mentally handle them myself. 

 Thus, I place an animal in circumstances which are quite 

 unfamiliar to it, and from which it is urgently pressed to escape. 

 There are two, or perhaps three, courses open to it ; one being, 

 to my mind, patently the most advantageous. It tries all of 

 them, and selects that which I should have chosen myself, 

 though it is much longer in coming to its conclusion. Here the 

 animal has the same facts as the man to deal with, and, after 

 consideration and examination, its judgment precisely corresponds 

 with the man's. I cannot, then, find it possible to deny that 

 the mental operations are identical in kind; but that they are 

 not so in degree can be demonstrated by my unporting into the 

 situation an element foreign to the experience of the animal, 

 when its failure is certain. It makes no difference whether the 

 animal is under stress,- or acting voluntarily. It may frequently 

 be found to choose the method which most recommends itself to 

 the man's judgment. Every student of animals is familiar with 

 numbers of such cases. Indeed they are constantly being re- 

 corded in the columns of Nature, and abound in all accepted 

 works on animal intelligence. I am quite prepared to admit 

 that where there are two or more courses open to it the animal 

 will occasionally select that which presents the greatest diffi- 

 culties, and lab Air most assiduously to overcome them, some- 

 times tryini' the remaining courses and returning to that wh ch 

 it first chose. Darwin gives a good example of the honey-bee 



"Origin of Species," p. 225, edition 1872). But no one will 

 1 e surprised at imperfect judgment or vacillation of will in an 

 animal, when such are common among men. 



Prof. Max Miiller lays down the very distinct proposition that 

 " animals have no language." I suppose ntterable language is 

 meant. Is this so ? That their sign-language is both extensive 

 "ind exact (and even understood to some extent as between 



widely different species) most naturalists, I apprehend, will 



entertain no doubt. But has any species an utterable language? 

 What is to be the test of this ? First there is the whole gamut 

 of vocal expressions — which even we understand — conveying the 

 ideas of pain, pleasure, anger, warning. What sportsman who 

 has stalked extremely shy animals does not know the moment a 

 bird or animal utters a certain note that he is discovered ? If 

 Prof. Max Miiller will not admit this to be language, I, for one, 

 must ask him what it is. It conveys to others a distinct idea, in 

 general if not in special terms, and seems to me quite equivalent 

 to " Oh, dear ! " «' This is nice " (expressed, I believe, in some 

 African language by the reduplicated form nuni-fiuni, the letter 

 w having the same value as in the Spanish ;;/a;/a«a), "Leave 

 off, "Look out," "Come here," &c. Those who have heard 

 animals calling to one another, particularly at night, and have 

 carefully noted the modulations of their voices (why should there 

 be modulations unless they have a definite value), will find it 

 very hard to accept Prof. Max Miiller's conclusion that 

 "animals have no language." Every female mammal endowed 

 with any kind < f voice has the power of saying " Come here, 

 my child," and it is an interesting fact beyond question that the 

 knowledge of this call is feebly or not at all inherited, but must 

 be impressed upon the young individual by experience. Further, 

 the young brought up by an alien foster-mother pay no attention 

 to the "Come here, my child," of the alien species. The 

 clucking of the hen meets with no response from the ducklings 

 she has reared, even when she paces frantically by the side of 

 the pond imploring them not to commit suicide. But let us 

 creep up under the banks of a sedgy pool at about this time of 

 year. There swims a wild duck surrounded by her brood, dash- 

 ing here and there at the rising Phryganid(.e. Now let the 

 frightful face of man peer through the sedges. A sharp 

 " quack " from the duck, and her brood dive like stones, or 

 plunge into the reeds. She, at least, knows what to say to 

 them. 



The already inordinate length of this letter precludes me from 

 offering any instances of the communication of specific intelli- 

 gence by means of the vocal organs of animals. I think it 

 probable that we far under- rate the vocabulary of animals from 

 deficient attention — and, I speak for myself, stupidity. Possibly 

 Prof Max Miiller has not yet examined " Sally," the black 

 chimpanzee. If not, he would surely be much interested. She is 

 by no means garrulous, but, in spite of her poor vocal capacity, 

 if he should still consider that she "cannot really know any- 

 thing " on that account, I must have completely misinterpreted 

 his letter to Mr. Galton. Arthur Nicols. 



Watford, June 3. 



Two Friends. 



The remarks on the reasoning powers of animals (dogs in 

 particular) given in your issue of June 9 (p. 124) induce me to 

 relate an experience of my own. We possess a dog and a cat, 

 both males, the former called Griffon here, much like a Skye 

 terrier, the latter a splendid animal (a cross of the Angora). 

 These two animals are bound to each other by the closest friend- 

 ship, which began thus : — The dog came to us two years ago, 

 quite a pup — about three months old. Soon after a small, 

 wretched, half-starved kitten arrived at our door asking hospi- 

 tality. The dog at once adopted it, let it eat out of the same 

 dish, let it sleep on the same mat (and continues to do so still), 

 in fact took entire charge of it. A black cat, a very vicious 

 creature, and seemingly wild, haunted our garden, to the great 

 destruction of birds' nests and to the excessive terror of the 

 kitten. As the dog grew, it became the kitten's protector against 

 the black cat, and has been so now for two years. If it was 

 indoors and heard a cry of distress from our cat, you could not 

 hold it from flying wildly to its rescue, forcing someone to open 

 the door, or darting through a window. It has done this so long, 

 and with such effect, that the black cat scarcely dares show its 

 face in the garden, as the dog invariably attacks it with fury and 

 drives it away, following it along the road to see if it is quite 

 gone. I do not know if you will think this worthy of insertion, 

 but I think it curious, and I can vouch for its truth. M. C. 



La Tour de Peily, June 13. 



The Use of Flowers by Birds. 



As a curious incident enacted by sparrows has just come under 

 my notice, which possesses some added interest in connexion 

 with the two occurrences recorded by your correspondent 



