Jav. 20, 1 882. J 



KNOWLEDGE 



245 



crossing the second finger over the first, we feel the tip of 

 the nose with these fingers thus interchanged in relative 

 position. In this case the obser\er seems to feel two nose 

 tips, though lie knows certainly that he has but one ; he 

 knows, too, just how the illusion is occasioned, but for all 

 that the illusion remains. 



The two most trustworthy senses, sight and feeling, 

 being thus able to deceive — to palm off upon us, so to 

 speak, what each of us knows to be false, — we see (and feel) 

 how very far from the truth is the saying that seeing or 

 feeling is belie\ing. If these senses deceive us when we 

 know precisely what they are doing (as when conjurors 

 explain and illustrate in action the manner of their tricks), 

 is it to be supposed that they do not often deceive us, and 

 still more thoroughly when we have no means of testing 

 what they tell us by what we already know ? 



INTELLIGENCE IN ANIMALS. 



IN the case last considered, we see that a dog, belonging 

 to a species not distinguished for keemiess of scent, 

 was not long deceived by a picture, even under circum- 

 stances favouring the deception — as his previous sleep, the 

 position of rest from which he saw the figure, and the 

 strong light shining upon it. As this was the only instance 

 known to one who was familiar with the ways of dogs, the 

 negative evidence respecting the recognition of pictures by 

 animals is rather strong. However, there have been cases 

 where animals, if not actually deceived by a picture, seem 

 certainly to have understood what it was intended to repre- 

 sent. The following case seems to nie full of interest It 

 is related by Mr. Chas. ^Y. Peach, of Edinburgh. He 

 remarks, first, that in certain publications dogs are said 

 ne\'er to have recognised a painted likeness. " During my 

 residence in Cornwall," lie goes on to say, "I had a most 

 intelligent and faithful dog for fifteen years. I had him 

 when a month old. His mother was a beautiful liver- 

 coloured spaniel, rather large ; his father, a black New- 

 foundland ; my dog took after him in colour and shape. In 

 184-3, a young and self-taught artist asked me to allow him 

 to paint my likeness in oil colours, and I consented. His 

 studio was in the next town, three miles distant, and, as 

 often as required, I went over. I, however, did not take 

 my dog with me. It was done in " kitcat " size, and he suc- 

 ceeded so well in the likeness and artistic work, that, 

 when exhibited at the annual meeting of the Polytechnic 

 Society at Falmouth, a medal was awarded for it ; and, as 

 well, it was highly commended. The artist was so grate- 

 ful that he presented me with the painting, and I still 

 have it When it was brought to my house, my old dog 

 was present with the family at the " unveiling " ; nothing 

 was said to him nor invitation given him to notice it. We 

 saw that his gaze was steadily fixed on it, and he soon 

 became excited, and whined, and tried to lick and scratch 

 it, and was so much taken up with it, that we, although so 

 well knowing his intelligence — were all quite surprised ; 

 in fact, could scarcely believe that he should know it was 

 my likeness. We, however, had sufficient proof after it 

 was hung up in our parlour. The room was rather low, and 

 under the picture stood a chair ; the door was left open 

 without any thought about the dog ; he, however, soon 

 found it out, when a low whining and scratching was heard 

 by the family, and on search being made, he was [found to 

 be] in the chair trying to get at the picture. After this I 

 put it up higher, so as to prevent its being injured by him. 

 This did not prevent him from paying attention to it, for 

 whenever I was away from home, whether for a long or 



short time — sometimes for several days — he spent most of 

 his time gazing on it, and as it appeared to gi\e him com- 

 fort, the door was always left open for liim. When I was 

 long away he made a low whining, as if to draw attention 

 to it This lasted for years, iu fact so long as he lived and 

 was able to see it. I have never kept a dog since he died ; 

 I dare not, his loss so much affected me." 



A similar anecdote is related of a painting by the elder 

 Phillips. " Many years ago," says the lady who narrates 

 the tale, " my husliand had his portrait taken by T. Phil- 

 lips, sen., E.A., and subsequently went to India, leaving 

 the portrait in London to be finished and framed. When 

 it was sent home, about two years after it was taken, it 

 was placed on the floor against the sofa, preparatory to 

 being hung on the wall. V\'e had then a very handsome, 

 large, black-and-tan setter, which was a great pet in the 

 house. As soon as the dog came into the room, he recog- 

 nised his master, though he had not seen him for two years, 

 and went up to the picture and licked the face. When this 

 anecdote was told to Phillips, he said it was the highest 

 compliment that had ever been paid to him." 



We ha\e seen how a bull-dog, the least intelligent, per- 

 haps, of all dogs, behaved in presence of a portrait. We 

 have now to consider the behaviour, under similar circum- 

 stances, of the British mastiff, a more intelligent animal 

 than the bull-dog, though not regarded as standing l)y any 

 means first among dogs in tliis respect. The particular 

 mastiff in question is one to whom I had the pleasure of 

 being introduced some tive years since, Dr. Huggins' dog 

 Kepler. He is worthy of a brief biographical sketck He 

 was a son (that is, Kepler was) of the celebrated Turk, 

 and was born about the year 1871. "He stands," wrote 

 Mrs. Huggins of him, towards the close of 1876, a few 

 months before his lamented decease, " thirty inches high, 

 and is lion colour on the body ; his face, the tips of his 

 ears, and the tip of his tail, are marked with black. In 

 disposition he is usually exceedingly affectionate and 

 gentle, though he can be otherwise. Probably he thinks 

 [though here I must confess that, strongly though Mrs. 

 Huggins's opinion would support my case, I cauziot alto- 

 gether agree with her] that the words of George Herbert 

 may apply to dogs as well as to men, and so reasons that — 

 He is a fool who cannot be angry. 

 But lie is a wise doij ivlio will not. 

 He has a clear idea of his duty in life. As Mr. Carlyle 

 woidd say, ' he has found his work to do,' and considers it to 

 be — to borrow the expression of an old writer — ' to kepe 

 his mastre and his maistirs hous.' To this end he is con- 

 tinually on the watch, barking in quite different ways as 

 different comers approach. He has a bark of welcome 

 for those he lo^■es ; of courtesy for mere acquaintances ; 

 of inquiry for strangers ; of warning against enemies," an 

 ap])roach here, one may say, to language. 



Kepler first attracted scientific attention by a pecu- 

 liarity which, most probably, must be regarded as a result 

 of instinct, or as, at any rate, inlieritcd, since nothing in 

 Kepler's own life explains it as the result of any process of 

 reasoning. " When he," that is Kepler, " was very young," 

 writes Mrs. Huggins, " his master discovered on taking him 

 for a walk one day, that he " (Kepler, not Dr. Huggins) 

 " was very much frightened at the sight of a butcher's shop, 

 and some little time afterwarils, when he was out with a 

 servant, the feeling again sho^ ed itself, but in a much 

 more marked manner. On this occasion Kepler threw 

 himself upon the ground near the butcher's, exhibiting 

 every appearance of terror, and as no amount of coaxing 

 could induce him to pass the shop, the servant was at last 

 obliged to bring him home again. His master, upon this, 

 wrote to ilr. Nicholls, from whom he had purchased 



