THE INSTINCTS AND THE ACQUIREMENTS OF MAN 243 



could do or say would convey any meaning to the blank mind 

 of a baby ; by no imaginable means could the child be taught 

 to co-ordinate its muscles or think rationally. Play, a new 

 instinct, which has been evolved in the higher animals, there- 

 fore, brings into effective operation the new power of making 

 physical and mental acquirements. It is often regarded by 

 stupid parents as a sign of the child's inherent frivolity and 

 silliness ; it is permitted only as a concession to weakness, 

 as a thing to be checked within the narrowest possible limits, 

 not one to be extended within the widest possible bounds. 

 The instinctive, unconscious, but purposeful wisdom of the 

 child's behaviour is hidden from them. In reality the play 

 of a child is the most beautiful, the most wonderful, the 

 most suggestive phenomenon in nature. 1 If older people 

 showed as much energy and wisdom in improving and 

 preserving their minds and bodies the sage would never 

 have said that the human population of the world consisted 

 principally of fools. 



402. The fact that children at play have no real notion of 

 the end to which their actions tend, raises a strong pre- 

 sumption that animals actuated by instinct are equally 

 ignorant. To say the least, therefore, it is widely improbable 

 that the spider, for example, spins his web with the conscious 

 idea of capturing prey, or the caterpillar his cocoon to 

 obtain future shelter. The actions in themselves are plea- 

 surable ; the ultimate end is unthought of. 2 



1 This morning, for example, my little child told me with evident 

 delight a fairy tale in the invention of which he had exercised his 

 imagination. Soon after I saw him in the wintry garden, net in hand, 

 pursuing imaginary butterflies. At present he is seated in an arm-chair. 

 Two stools are before him and two behind. He supposes himself in a 

 boat. In either hand is a mop, and he is rowing vigorously. Not one 

 movement does he make, not one thought does he think but serves to 

 develop body or mind. Driven by his instinct he works as busily and 

 as wisely as a caterpillar spinning its cocoon or a spider its web. The 

 energy of a boy at play is proverbial. 



2 Mr. Herbert Spencer and several other writers have attributed the 

 impulse to play to the presence of superfluous energy. It is not to them 

 an instinct which impels to useful actions. The higher animals, having 

 "better nutrition, gained by superiority," are supposed to expend it in 

 sport. The extreme parsimony of nature, the constant tendency of all 

 useless parts and faculties to regression was as little realized by them 

 as by Mr. A. E. Wallace, when he attributed the splendid plumage of 

 many male birds, not to sexual selection, but to this curious notion of 

 superfluous vigour. The true theory of sport was not enunciated till 

 Professor Karl Groos published his fascinating work, The Play of 

 Animals, in 1895. As far as I am aware, the first attempt to sketch the 

 evolution of the power of making acquirements was made in my own 

 book, The Present Evolution of Man. This power has been termed 



