Kitabı oku: «The Speech of Monkeys», sayfa 7
CHAPTER XV
Man and Ape – Their Physical Relations – Their Mental Relations – Evolution was the Means – Who was the Progenitor of the Ape? – The Scale of Life.
If we could free our hands from the manacles of tradition and stand aloof from our prejudices, and look the stern facts in the face, we should be compelled to admit that between man and ape there is such a unity of design, structure and function, that we dare not in the light of reason deny to the ape that rank in Nature to which he is assigned by virtue of these facts. Physiologically, there is no hiatus between man and ape which may not be spanned by such evidence as would be admitted under the strictest rules of interpretation. We may briefly compare these two creatures in a broad and general way, so that the unscientific and casual reader may comprehend.
MAN AND APE
The skeleton of man is only the polished structure of which that of the ape is the rough model. The identity of the two, part by part, is as much the same as the light sulky is the outgrowth of the massive framework of the old-time cart. Whether man and ape are related by any ties of blood or not, it is evident that they were modelled on the same plan, provided with the same means, and designed for like purposes, whatever they may be. The organs of sensation and the functions which they discharge are the same in both, and the same external forces addressing themselves thereto produce the same results. I do not mean to say that the same organ in each is developed in the same degree as that in the other, for this is not the case even in different individuals of the same kind. In the muscular system of the one is found an exact duplicate of the other, except in such slight changes of model as will better adapt the parts to those conditions of life under which the animal having them may be placed, and through the whole physical structure of both we find that unity of part and purpose in structure and function, in bone, muscle, nerve, and brain. It has been shown beyond a reasonable doubt that the brain in the higher races of mankind has reached its present form through a series of changes which are constant and definite; and this organ in the lower types of man resembles more that of the ape than does the same organ in the higher types of man; and by a method of deduction, such as we use to determine the height of a tree or the width of a stream by the length of a shadow, we find that the fiducial lines which bound the planes in the perspective of man's cerebral growth, likewise embrace those of the ape. While it is a fact that the mind of man so far transcends that of the ape, it is also a fact that in reaching this condition it has passed through such planes as those now occupied by the ape. The physical changes of man's brain do not appear to keep pace with the growth of his mind. This may be a paradox, but the evidence upon which it rests is ample to sustain it.
MAN AND APE
I do not pretend to know whether man was evolved from ape, or ape from man; whether they are congenetic products of a common authorship, or the masterpieces of two rival authors; but I cannot see in what respect man's identity would be affected, whatever may be the case. If it be shown that man descended from the ape, it does not change the facts which have existed from the beginning, nor does it change the destiny to which he is assigned. If it can be shown that apes descended from man, it does not leave upon man the censure for this degeneracy. If man has risen from the low plane of brutehood which the ape now occupies, has scaled the barriers which now separate him from apes, and has climbed to the divine heights of mental and moral manhood, the ape deserves no praise for this. On the other hand, if apes have fallen from the state of man, have wandered so far from the gates of light, and are now wandering in the twilight of intellect and degradation, it is no reproach to man; and while I shall not sit in judgment in the cause, nor testify on either side, I am willing to accept whatever verdict may be founded on the real facts, and I shall not appeal therefrom. But I shall not allow my prejudice to conceal the truth, whenever it is shown to me. It is always acceptable to my mind, and, stripped of all sophistry and oblique conditions, it would appear the same to every mind.
That evolution is the mode by which the world was peopled, there is little doubt, but there are many details yet unsettled as to the manner in which this was effected. I cannot regard the matter as proven beyond appeal that man has come from any antecedent type that was not man, nor yet do I deny that such may be the case; but I do deny that the broad chasm which separates man from other primates cannot be crossed on the bridge of speech; and while this does not prove their identity or common origin, it does show that Nature did not intend that either one should monopolise any gift which she had to bestow. It is as reasonable to believe that man has always occupied a sphere of life apart from that of apes, as to believe that apes have occupied a sphere of life apart from birds, except that the distance from centre to centre is greater between birds and apes than that distance between apes and man. So far as any fossil proofs contribute to our knowledge, we find no point at which the line is crossed in either case; and the earliest traces of man's physiological history find him distinctly man, and this history reaches back on meagre evidence many, many centuries before historic time. Among these earlier remains of man, we find no fossils of the Simian type to show that he existed at that time; but at a somewhat later period we find some remnants of the Simian type in deposits of Southern Europe; but they are of the smaller tribes, and have been assigned to the Macacus. We cannot trace the history of this genus from that to the present time to ascertain whether they were the progenitors of apes or not; but between this type and that of apes the hiatus is as broad as that which intervenes between the ape and man.
That somewhere in the lapse of time all genera began, admits of no debate; and by inversion it is plain that all generic outlines must focus at the point from which they first diverged, and such an operation does not indicate that man and Simian have ever been more closely allied than they are at the present time; but the evidence is clear that man has been evolved from a lower plane than he now occupies. The inference may be safely applied to apes, as progress is the universal law of life.
The question has been asked, "Who is the progenitor of man?" The solution of this problem has engaged the most profound minds of modern time. If it be said in reply that apes were the progenitors of man, the question then arises, "Who was the progenitor of the ape?" If it be said that man and ape had a common progenitor, a like question arises, and it becomes necessary to connect all types allied to each other as these two types are physically allied. If man is the climax of a great scheme in Nature by which one type is gradually transformed into another, we must descend the scale of life by crossing the chasm which lies between mankind and apes, another lying between the apes and monkeys, another between the monkeys and baboons, another between the baboons and lemurs, and yet another between the lemurs and the lemuroids, and thus from form to form like islands in the great sea of life. From man to infinity the question constantly recurs, and over each hiatus must be built a separate bridge.
DARWIN'S PROFOUND WORK
Darwin has given to the world the most profound and conscientious work, and from the chaos and confusion of human ignorance and bigotry has erected the most sublime monuments of thought and truth. It does not detract from his character and honesty, nor lessen the value of his labours, to admit that he may have been mistaken in some conclusions which he deduced from the great store of facts at his command.
It is not the purpose of this work, however, to enter into a discussion of any theory aside from speech and its possible origin and growth, but all subjects pertaining to life, thought, and the modes of living and thinking, must contribute in some degree to a clear understanding of the subject in hand.
DARWIN'S SIN OF OMISSION
It has been a matter of surprise to me that so careful and observant a man as Mr. Darwin should have so nearly omitted the question of speech from a work of such ample scope, such minute detail, and such infinite care as characterises the "Descent of Man," and such like works. But science will cheerfully forgive an error, and pardon the sin of omission in one who has given to the world so much good.
CHAPTER XVI
The Faculty of Thought – Emotion and Thought – Instinct and Reason – Monkeys Reason – Some Examples.
The study of biology has revealed many facts which conspire to show that the incipient forms of animal and vegetable life are the same in those two great kingdoms; and parallel with this fact, I think it can be shown that the faculty of expression goes hand in hand with life. And why should not this be the case? From the standpoint of religion, I cannot see why the bounty of God should not be equal to such a gift, nor can I conceive of a more sublime act of universal justice than that all things endowed with thought, however feeble, should be endowed with the power of expressing it. From the standpoint of evolution, I cannot understand by what rule Nature would have worked to develop the emotions, sensations, and faculties alike in all these various forms, and make this one exception in the case of speech. It does not seem in keeping with her laws. From the standpoint of chance, I cannot see why such an accident might not have occurred at some other point in the scale of life, or why such anomalies are not more frequent. Man appears to be the only one. From any point of view we take, it does not seem consistent with other facts. All other primates think and feel, and live and die under like conditions and on like terms with man; then why should he alone possess the gift of speech?
FACULTY OF THOUGHT
I confess that such an inference is not evidence, however logical; but I have many facts to offer in proof that speech is not possessed by man alone. It is quite difficult to draw the line at any given point between the process of thought and those phenomena we call emotions. They merge into and blend with each other like the colours in light, and in like manner the faculty of speech, receding through the various modes of expression, is for ever lost in the haze and distance of desire. The faculty of reason blends into thought like the water of a bay blends into the open sea; there is nowhere a positive line dividing them. When we are in the midst of one we point to the other, and say, "There it is;" but we cannot say at what exact point we pass out of one into the other.
THE POWER OF REASONING
To reason is to think methodically and to judge from attending facts. When a monkey examines the situation and acts in accordance with the facts, doing a certain thing with the evident purpose of accomplishing a certain end, in what respect is this not reason? When a monkey remembers a thing which has passed and anticipates a thing which is to come; when he has learned a thing by experience which he avoids through memory and the apprehension of its recurrence, is it instinct that guides his conduct? When a monkey shows clearly by his actions that he is aware of the relation between cause and effect, and acts in accordance therewith, is it instinct or reason that guides him? If there be a point in the order of Nature where reason became an acquired faculty, it is somewhere far below the plane occupied by monkeys. Their power of reasoning is far inferior to that of man, but not more so than their power of thinking and expression; but a faculty does not lose its identity by reason of its feebleness. When the same causes under the same conditions prompt man and ape alike to do the same act in the same way, looking forward to the same results, I cannot understand why the motive of the one should be called reason, and that of the other called instinct. Scholars have tried so hard to keep the peace between theology and themselves, that they have explained things in accordance with accepted belief in order that they might not incur the charge of heresy. To this end they have reconciled the two extremes by ignoring the means, and making a distinction without a difference on which to found it.
Whatever may be the intrinsic difference between reason and instinct, it is evident to my mind that the same motives actuate both man and ape in the same way, but not to the same extent. I am aware that many acts performed by Simians are meaningless to them and done without a well-defined motive. The strong physical resemblance between man and ape often causes one to attach more importance to the act than it really justifies. In many cases the same act performed by some other animal less like man would scarcely be noticed. To teach an ape or monkey to eat with knife, fork, cup and spoon, to use a napkin and chair, or such like feats, does not indicate to my mind a high order of reason; nor it is safe to judge the mental status of these creatures from such data. When he is placed under new conditions and committed to his own resources, we are then better able to judge by his conduct whether he is actuated by reason or not.
CONNECTING CAUSES AND EFFECTS
In any simple act where a monkey can see the cause connected with, and closely followed by, the effect, he is actuated by reason, and while he may not be able to explain to his own mind a remote or complex cause but simply accepts the fact, it does not make the act any less rational in a monkey than the same act would be in man where he fails to grasp the ultimate cause. The difference is that man is able to trace the connecting causes and effects through a longer series than a monkey can. Man assigns a more definite reason for his acts than a monkey can; but it is also true that one man may assign a more definite reason for his acts than another man can for his when prompted by the same motives to the same act.
The processes, motives, acts and results are the same with man and ape; the degree to which they reason differs, but the kind of reason in both cases is the same.
I shall here relate some instances in my experience and leave the reader to judge whether reason or instinct guided the acts of the monkeys as I shall detail them in the next few paragraphs. It will be remembered that these were new conditions under which the monkeys acted.
I taught Nellie to drink milk from a bottle with a rubber nipple. While I would hold the bottle, it was easy for her to secure the milk; but when she undertook it alone, she utterly failed. The thing which puzzled her was how to get the milk to come up to her end of the bottle. She turned it in every way, and held it in every position that she could think of, but the milk always kept at the other end of the bottle. She would throw the bottle down in despair, and when she saw the milk flow to the end having the nipple, she would go back and pick it up, and try it again. Poor Nellie worried her little head over this, and again abandoned it in despair. While trying to solve the mystery, she discovered a new trick. While the bottle was partly inverted she caught hold of the nipple, and squeezed it. By this means she accidentally spurted the milk into the faces of some ladies who were watching her. This afforded her so much fun that she could scarcely be restrained, and while she remained with me she remembered this funny trick, and never failed to perform it when she was allowed to do so. It was no trouble for her to connect the immediate effect to the immediate cause. But she could not for a long time understand that the position of the bottle or the location of the milk in it had anything to do with the trick. In the course of time, however, she learned to hold the bottle so that she could drink the milk, and she also discovered that it had to be held in a certain position in order to play her amusing trick.
Another instance was in the case of a little monkey, heretofore described by the name of Jennie. When you would throw a nut, just out of her reach, she would take a stick which had a nail in the end, and rake the nut to her. She never took the wrong end of the stick, and never placed the nail on the wrong side of the nut. Her master assured me that she had not been taught this, but had found the stick and applied it to this use. When she did not want any one to play with her or handle her, she would coil her chain up and sit down on it to keep any one from taking hold of it.
It is not an uncommon thing for monkeys to discover the means by which their cage is kept fastened, and they have frequently been known to untie a knot in a rope or chain, and thus release themselves. I have known a monkey that learned to reach its hand through the meshes of the cage, and withdraw the pin which fastened the hasp and thus open the door and get out. The keeper substituted a small wire, which he twisted three or four times in order that it could not be released. The monkey realised that the wire performed the duties of the pin and prevented the door from opening. He also knew that the wire was twisted and that this was the reason he could not remove it. I have seen him put his hand through the meshes of the cage, catch the loose end of the wire and turn it as though he was turning a crank. He evidently knew that the twist in the wire was made by such a motion and his purpose was to untwist it, but so far as I know he never succeeded in doing so. I have frequently seen a monkey gather up his chain and measure his distance from where he stood to the point at which he expected to alight, with the skill and accuracy of an engineer.
A gentleman of my acquaintance assured me recently that during his sojourn of two years in the Island of Sumatra, he had in his service a large orang. This ape did many chores about the place, and performed many simple duties as well as the other domestics did.
On one occasion, this ape was induced to go aboard a steamer which lay in the harbour. The purpose was to kidnap him and carry him to Europe. Either through fear, instinct, reason, or some other cause, this ape jumped overboard and swam ashore, although he was naturally afraid of water. From that time on to the end of the gentleman's residence there, he assures me that whenever a steamer made its appearance in the harbour, the ape would take flight to the forest, where he would stay as long as the vessel remained in sight. He was seen from time to time, but could not be induced to return to the house until the vessel had departed.
A few years ago, I saw on board the United States receiving ship Franklin, a bright little monkey which was kept chained in a temporary workshop built on the gun-deck. Her chain was just long enough to allow her to reach the stove. The day was pleasant outside, but in the shade a trifle chilly. The little monk descended from the sill on which she usually sat and carefully felt the top of the stove with her hands. Finding it slightly warm, although the fire had died out, she mounted the stove and laid the side of her head on the warm surface. She would turn first one cheek and then the other, and continued rubbing the stove with her hands. Not finding it warm enough, she jumped down on the floor, opened the stove door with her hand, and slammed it two or three times. She then picked up a stick of wood lying within reach, and tried to lift it to the stove. The stick was too heavy for her to handle, so she would lift up one end of it and drop it heavily on the floor with the evident purpose of attracting the attention of her master. Again she would open and slam the door, lift up the end of the stick and drop it, and utter a peculiar sound, showing in every possible way that she wanted a fire. She finally picked up a small stick and stuck the end of it into the ashes in the front of the stove. She knew that it was necessary to put the wood into the stove; she knew where to put it in, and, while she could not do it herself, she knew who could put it in. Her master told me that she would gather up the shavings from the floor when they came within her reach and pile them up by the stove. He also told me that he frequently gave her a lighted match when he had prepared the fuel for building a fire, and that she would touch the match to the shavings and start the fire. She never ventured to get on the stove without first examining it to ascertain how hot it was.
Another feat which she performed was to try to remove some tar from the cup in which he gave her water and milk. The cup had been lined with tar as a sanitary measure to prevent consumption, and she was aware that the tar imparted an unpleasant taste and odour, hence she tried very hard to remove it from the cup. Was this instinct?
