sanction. For this reason their sale was arranged on the easiest of terms, and the money market kept "easy" with all the means at his disposal. The money paid by the real purchasers of the bonds was left in the hands of the agents, with no inducement to pay it in for three months, and with every inducement to so lend it as to favor the sale of still more bonds. In this way results, unattainable without management and manipulation, have been reached, and these results have been held up to admiration as the evidence of the Secretary's foresight and ability, just as though they had been effected without any such tampering with the market.

One great stamp of incapacity is on all Secretary Sherman's financiering. It is all make-shift. It takes no large outlooks upon the future. This refunding business is the height of its folly. Does any body seriously suppose that four per cent. bonds will ever be wanted by any body in this country, except in hard times when the ordinary outlets for investment are generally closed? Or is it expected that these bonds will be paid off before times are better? If they are not, then our debt will be once more shipped off to the money markets of Europe, as soon as business is better, and we will once more pass under the yoke of the European money-lender We shall be sending our gold away to enrich other lands, and for the sake of two per cent. interest saved, we shall put on a burden heavier than would be ten per cent. interest owed and paid at home.

MENTAL LIFE BELOW THE HUMAN.

It impossible to account fo

II.

T is impossible to account for all the acts of animals by this organic impulse of instinct. It has its limitations like every other force. There are daily recurring emergencies which it seems inadequate to meet, and so it has been created with possibilities of modification; and there also have been given it as auxiliaries, first, the senses which sometimes are marvellously developed; and second, the rudiments of all intellectual faculties, not excepting, as I will endeavor to show, reason itself.

It may, at first, appear as against the theory that instinct is an organic impulse, the fact that its action can in any way be modified; but, experiment has proved that even those impulses clearly organic, those that give appearance and determine the habits of animals and plants can be more or less modified by the hand of man, or even by a change in the surroundings effected by natural causes. Ivy planted against a wall or tree supports itself by radicles, yet23 when reared as a standard it has been observed to send forth none. The florist, the fruit-grower and the stock-raiser have amassed fortunes on these artificially produced modifications; and Darwin, Huxley, Wallace and other experimenters and investigators have confidently founded a theory of creation upon the modifications which they have discovered or effected in the modes of working of those unquestionably organic forces that build up plant and animal organisms. Though seriously questioning the soundness of their conclusions, we can but grant their statements of fact. If such modifications are possible among confessed organic forces, it should not surprise us that we meet them in instinct. Some birds24 to avoid snakes, wholly change their mode of building, hanging their nests to the end of branches and making the exit from beneath.

Ants in Siam construct no nest on the ground, but in trees, that country being much subject to inundations. Dogs which the Spaniards left in the island of Juan Fernandez were found to have lost the habit of barking when Juan and D'Ulloa visited that famous spot in their journeyings in South America. Dogs in Guinea only howl, and those taken there from Europe become like them after three or four generations. Hens, ushered into life in the chicken-hatching ovens of Paris, are said to lose the instinct of incubation.

The instincts proving inadequate, may, besides being themselves modified or lost, being either injurious or useless through changed circumstances, be supplemented by habits which in lapse of time bear to them a resemblance so close that they have been erroneously placed in the same category. The mistake has happened in this way. Certain acts, at first done consciously and with definite design, after a while become unconscious and automatic, 23 Bridgewater Treat. Vol. xi, page 248.

24 Brougham's Works, Vol. vi, page 263,

changing in some instances the bodily structure. They have even been transmitted to offspring. But it is utterly impossible for instincts proper to have any such origin, as I have already shown. Failing to note this vital distinction, Darwin has attempted to draw the conclusion, from some instances of habits, having thus been changed into pseudo-instincts and carried down from one generation to another, that such must be the nature and origin of all impulses that are instinctive. The skill acquired by dogs in hunting is known to be inherited by their pups, so that South American dogs will, the first time they are taken to the chase, hunt in line, while those from other lands will rush on singly and be destroyed. Here is knowledge and skill, first acquired through experience, appearing in subsequent generations as apparently instinctive perceptions and impulses. It will be found that many of the acts of animals which are supposed to be prompted by instinct are really and only confirmed habits.

Instinct is also, as we have remarked, associated with the bodily senses developed often to marvellous acuteness, and associated so intimately with them that its work and theirs have frequently been confounded. It is by the odor of the carrion plant that the fleshfly is so fatally misled to deposit its eggs in its tissues. The bee is attracted by the scent of the nectar-cups, and it keeps sweet and healthful the air in its hive by enclosing in propolis any offensive, foreign substance found within and too cumbersome to handle. A dog's power of smell so immeasurably transcends our own we would not believe such subtlety of sense possible were it not demonstrated hourly in our presence.

In the wide contrast between the conduct of bees and that of winged ants on leaving their homes, the important part played by the sense of sight may be noted. All bees, even queens entering upon their marriage-flight, carefully reconnoitre, while, without an instant's hesitation or a single glance backward, ants fly away so far that to retrace their course becomes a practical impossibility. The ants have no thought of return and hence make no provision for it. They are simply in search of suitable sites for the new colonies nature has appointed them to establish.

The powers of observation of carrier-pigeons and the tenacity of their memories, together with their undying local attachments, at least partially account for their wonderful achievements. Those

who have them in training first throw them a few yards from their dove-cots, and then a little farther, each time lengthening the distance and changing the direction until the features of the landscape become perfectly familiar and indelibly impressed. Still this is only a partial explanation, for they will readily find their way back not only after the lapse of years, but even across trackless seas, though their schooling made them acquainted only with the immediate neighborhood of their old home. So, too, the flights of bees can thus be but partially explained. The flowers they are to enter and empty may be nodding in a meadow a mile away. Their eyes, it is true, are suited for long range and are, no doubt, brought into full requisition, but when after visiting flower after flower, taking in cargo of pollen or nectar, they rise in circles through the air they must have some other and surer guide than any known organ of the body, to enable them to dart, as they do, direct as a ray of light over hill-top and river-course and meadow-land to their home again, for it now is to all seeming beyond the range of both their sight and scent. When, however, a bee chances to miss its aim and reaches the wrong hive, it corrects its error only by circling again in the air, showing that acute observation and a tenacious memory are largely concerned in the act.

No doubt it is, sometimes, by aid of the senses that sheep and dogs, when taken long distances from home, find their way back. They prowl over wider areas than we are apt to suppose, and only by learning their full history can we reach any safe conclusion. The sight of the eagle and the scent of the carrion bird have become proverbial. All the architecture of ant and bee inside hive and hill is wrought in carefully darkened chambers, through the delicate touch of antennæ. Indeed, in all their systematic co-operative work, in their accurate measurement of surfaces and angles, in their mastery of the complicated affairs of their thronging colonies, even in their interchange of thought, as we will find, they rely largely upon the aid of these restless, sensitive, hair-like processes with which they have been provided.

But as the fact that all animals are endowed with one or more of the five senses, as guides and allies, is universally conceded, no further argument or even statement is required. The real questions at issue are these: are the senses the elements that go to make up the instinct, or is this a unique faculty, a distinct organic impulse,

and they but its servitors? and, if the latter be true, exactly where do the actions of each commence and terminate? All that is needed here is perhaps a word of caution against attributing to instinct what is really referable to the sometimes preternaturally developed organs of sense.

In the life below our own we find, not only instinct and the bodily senses, but the rudiments, at least, of all the mental faculties with which we ourselves have been endowed.

Late one fall in a hive of the elder Huber one of the centre combs, proving too weak for its load, broke, and in its fall lodged against one of its neighbors. But the bees, in whom we would least expect conscious intelligence, so thoroughly instinctive are nearly all their acts, promptly propped the suspended fragment with pillars of wax, which they constructed out of unfilled comb, and then fastened it securely above and at the sides. This done they tore away the under supports, and thus left the avenues of the hive again free. These insects must have noticed that the fragment was insecurely lodged, and fearing lest it might be jarred or weighed down by themselves before they could tie it, resorted to this precautionary measure. Here must have been deliberative thought, an exercise of some sort of reflective faculty. How else can the incident be explained?

This same acute observer tells us that he has known bees both to discover a mistake and to remedy it. He once placed blocks of wood in a glass hive, in such positions that, if the combs were carried down perpendicularly as commenced, the passages would be left too narrow. The bees not only became aware of this, but actually curved their combs and in consequence changed the form of the cells. Here the God-given, ideal model itself, which we suppose the insect to work out under the spur of blind impulse, the insects themselves change by some conscious act of superior intelligence. Huber glazed roof and floor, and the bees began to build horizontally, and when he again interposed glass, they curved the combs to reach the wooden supports at precisely the right distance from the obstructions; thus not only varying their usual rules of architecture, but varying them by concerted. action, different workers being busy on different parts requiring different changes in order that the whole might be developed symmetrically.