2i6 THE PSYCHICAL KINSHIP 



closer examination shows that instinct and the 

 conscious understanding do not stand in absolute 

 contrast, but rather in a complex relation, and 

 cannot be sharply marked off from each other.' 

 It is instinct that urges the bird to build its nest ; 

 but when birds whose habit it is to build on the 

 ground learn, on the introduction of cats into the 

 neighbourhood, to change their nesting-places to 

 the tree-tops, intelligence and thought are neces- 

 sary. The first time Cavy (one of my guinea-pigs) 

 smelled a cat, she was almost scared to death. 

 She jumped back from it as if she had come in 

 contact with a red-hot stove, and screamed and 

 kept on screaming, and shot down under my coat 

 as if she were about to be crucified. After a little 

 while I tried to pull her out, but she refused, and 

 kept hiding. The second time the kitten was pre- 

 sented to her the result was the same. But after 

 two or three days of association, she paid little 

 more attention to it than to the other guinea-pigs. 

 She had never seen a cat before. It was the odour 

 of the carnivore that terrified her, and the effect 

 was purely instinctive. But instinct was soon 

 modified by intelligent experience. (Poor dear 

 little Cavy I I wonder where she is now !) 



Both instinct and reason (and one, too, just as 

 much as the other) are absolutely dependent upon 

 • > processes that are purely mechanical — that is, 

 n\ upon brain processes ; and brain processes depend 

 upon brain structure, which is inherited. Hence, 

 reason is, in a certain sense, as truly inherited as 

 instinct is. A being must be born with the 



