309 
whom he grants a certain amount of intelligence, are nearly automatic. But 
I cannot understand how a great many of the actions of the dog can be 
accounted for on the ground of instinct, for I suppose an instinctive action 
is one where a peculiar feeling takes place and produces an outward action 
of an inevitable character. 
Mr. Reddie— How could you apply that definition to the making of a 
bee’s cell ? 
Mr. Row.— The making of a. bee’s cell is an intelligent principle given 
to the animal by the Creator. I do not suppose the bee makes the cell by 
any act of its own intelligence ; but the animal must have a feeling which 
prompts it to work in a particular manner, though at the same time I think 
the intelligence given by the Creator is capable of slight modification to 
suit the particular circumstances of the place where the bee is to build its 
comb. I have examined many hives, and seen great modifications of 
their architecture at different times. Any person who has examined hives 
knows that the architecture of the queen’s cell differs from that of the common 
cells, and if the queen dies suddenly, and there are only the grubs of 
working bees of a certain age, the bees pull down the walls of several common 
cells, and change them into a royal cell. Surely this evidences a certain 
degree of modifying power beyond mere instinct. But we have a more sure 
mode of testing the matter by the intelligence of the dog, the elephant, 
and other animals. I have kept many dogs, and in a former discussion 
referred to one or two remarkable things that have occurred to myself with 
regard to the intelligence of dogs, and from which occurrences I 
infer that the dog is capable of intelligent action. My father lived three 
miles from Devonport, and between us was Plymouth harbour, which we 
could get across by means of a steam bridge worked on chains. Now, when 
any of us went from the one place to the other, a dog of ours used frequently 
to follow; but sometimes, when it reached the landing, it found that the steam 
bridge had already started ; in that case it waited patiently for the return of 
% bridge, when it quietly walked on board and was taken across. Now I 
say it is impossible to declare that these actions were simply instinctive — the 
dog worked through a series of inductions. It had observed that the steam 
bridge went to and fro, and from observation it had also come to the con- 
clusion that if it waited long enough on the bank, the bridge would come back 
again and take it across, and I do not think those acts differed from any actions 
of my own mind under similar circumstances. The great difference is that the 
animal has undoubtedly a very limited range of ideas ; but I cannot under- 
stand that its actions are automatic, as Mr. Morshead asserts.* Mr. Mor- 
* The following is even a more remarkable case than that cited by Mr. 
Row. A fox was one day observed on a bank of the river Blackwater, in 
Ireland, tearing a branch from a bush. This branch he conveyed to a point and 
set floating down the river; after a while the branch reached a number of wild 
fowl, which rose, to settle again when the supposed danger had passed. The 
fox repeated this process until the wild fowl no longer exhibited any signs 
