MONKEYS. 59 



the human subject, it is almost needless to add, such " reason " may 

 be exercised as unconsciously as, no doubt, it was put in force by the 

 mangabey. 



Recognition of friends and places, through the exercise of memory ', 

 is a faculty eminently possessed by monkeys. A baboon recognised 

 Sir Andrew Smith at the Cape of Good Hope, after an absence of 

 nine months. " Sammy," the capuchin, was deposited by me in the 

 Zoological Society's Monkey-house, and was visited thereafter by 

 several friends and myself at intervals. The friends were resident in 

 London, and, as they saw him at tolerably frequent intervals, it was 

 not surprising that he should at once recognise them on their 

 entering the Monkey-house. My first visit to, " Sammy " was paid 

 after an interval of between two and three months. I approached his 

 cage amongst the crowd of visitors and waited. " Sammy," at that 

 moment, was perched high up on a cross-bar. All at once he 

 apparently spied me ; for rushing down with a scream of joy, he 

 came to the spot where I stood, and, thrusting his hands through the 

 bars of the cage, embraced my hands in his own, and screamed so 

 loudly that the keeper hurried round in alarm to investigate the 

 cause of the commotion. At frequent intervals, I was similarly 

 recognised ; indeed, up to the date of his death, the memory of this 

 kind little monkey was active and clear, as his affection for his friends 

 was unabated. My experience agrees with that of Mr. Romanes 

 described in his recent work on " Animal Intelligence," from which 

 I quote the following account : " I returned the monkey" (a Brown 

 Capuchin), says Mr. Romanes, "to the Zoological Gardens at the 

 end of February, and up to the time of his death, in October 1881, 

 he remembered me as well as the first day that he was sent back. 

 I visited the monkey-house about once a month, and whenever I 

 approached his cage he saw me with astonishing quickness indeed, 

 generally before I saw him and ran to the bars, through which he 

 thrust both hands with every expression of joy. He did not, how- 

 ever, scream aloud; his mind seemed too much occupied by the 

 cares of monkey-society to admit of a vacancy large enough for such 

 very intense emotion as he used to experience in the calmer life that 

 he lived before. Being much struck with the extreme rapidity of his 

 discernment whenever I approached the cage, however many other 

 persons might be standing round, I purposely visited the monkey- 

 house on Easter Monday, in order to see whether he would pick me 

 out of the solid mass of people who fill the place on that day. 

 Although I could only obtain a place three or four rows back from 

 the cage, and although I made no sound wherewith to attract his 

 attention, he saw me almost immediately, and with a sudden intelli- 

 gent look of recognition ran across the cage to greet me. When I 

 went away he followed me, as he always did, to the extreme end of 



