ht, with every ascertained fact so gained, went on action and
reaction in the grey matter of the speech discoverer, and slowly, step by
step, through hundreds of thousands of years, developed the power of
reason.
Place a honey-bee in a glass bottle. Turn the bottom of the bottle
toward a lighted lamp so that the open mouth is away from the lamp.
Vainly, ceaselessly, a thousand times, undeterred by the bafflement and
the pain, the bee will hurl himself against the bottom of the bottle as
he strives to win to the light. That is instinct. Place your dog in a
back yard and go away. He is your dog. He loves you. He yearns toward
you as the bee yearns toward the light. He listens to your departing
footsteps. But the fence is too high. Then he turns his back upon the
direction in which you are departing, and runs around the yard. He is
frantic with affection and desire. But he is not blind. He is
observant. He is looking for a hole under the fence, or through the
fence, or for a place where the fence is not so high. He sees a
dry-goods box standing against the fence. Presto! He leaps upon it,
goes over the barrier, and tears down the street to overtake you. Is
that instinct?
Here, in the household where I am writing this, is a little Tahitian
"feeding-child." He believes firmly that a tiny dwarf resides in the box
of my talking-machine and that it is the tiny dwarf who does the singing
and the talking. Not even Mr. Burroughs will affirm that the child has
reached this conclusion by an instinctive process. Of course, the child
reasons the existence of the dwarf in the box. How else could the box
talk and sing? In that child's limited experience it has never
encountered a single instance where speech and song were produced
otherwise than by direct human agency. I doubt not that the dog is
considerably surprised when he hears his master's voice coming out of a
box.
The adult savage, on his first introduction to a telephone, rushes around
to the adjoining room to find the man who is talking through the
partition. Is this act instinctive? No. Out of his limited experience,
out of his limited knowledge of physics, he reasons that the only
explanation possible is that a man is in the other room talking through
the partition.
But that savage cannot be fooled by a hand-mirror. We must go lower down
in the animal scale, to the monkey. The monkey swiftly learns that the
monkey it sees is not in the gl
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