152 INTELLIGENT BEHAVIOUR 
give expression toa different opinion. It is, however, essential 
to distinguish carefully between showing an animal how a trick 
is done, and furnishing useful accessory stimuli (such as the 
occasional taps of the trainer’s whip when he wants a per- 
forming horse to kneel), or affording suitable conditions the 
results of which temporarily enter into the association com- 
plex. If the latter be eliminated the practice of trainers, 
I believe, bears out the general result of the experiments. 
Dr. Thorndike never succeeded in getting an animal to 
change its way of doing a thing for his. Nor was I, after 
repeated trials, able to modify the way in which my dog 
lifted the latch of the gate. He did it with the back of his 
head. I could not get him to do it (more gracefully) with 
his muzzle. 
It may be said that the remarkable feats of performing 
animals imply the existence of faculties of a higher order than 
Dr. Thorndike and I are prepared to admit on the basis of our 
experiments. Mr. P.G. Hamerton many years ago described * 
how, in his own house, a cleverly trained dog would fetch in 
their right order the letters which spelt the English or German 
equivalents of common French words, and do other wonderful 
things. But the owner of the dog (M. du Rouil) admitted 
that there was a means of rapport between them which he was 
not prepared to divulge. It is just because the trainer has to 
lead up to and utilize chance experiences that such prolonged 
patience and care are required. The animal is but the instru- 
ment on which his clever trainer plays; an instrument of 
wonderful intelligence, but lacking in the higher rational 
faculty. The organized scheme is the master’s, not that of 
his willing slave. A rational being might not do more 
wonderful things; but he would learn them more rapidly 
and by a less wearisome method. As it is, the clever per- 
forming dog originates little or nothing, and repeats again and 
again the same stereotyped behaviour, which—if one witnesses 
the performance often—touches one with a profound sense of 
its lack of rational spontaneity. 
* The Portfolio (1873), p. 27, “ Canine Guests.” 
