By RICHARD BUDD PAINTER.

No one who has clearly observed animals, birds, bees, and other creatures, can possibly deny their possession of a faculty of communicating ideas to one another.

Admitting this fully, my object therefore will be, while elicitating some of the facts concerning animal language, to maintain the consistency of my argument in regard to man, as contrasted with animals, by showing that such animal language is not of an intellectual kind, but only such as is necessary for the conduct, and use, of the highest phases of the animal “instinctive mind,” according to its ordained capacity in each species.

In my opinion, every kind of animal possesses a different sort of language; and which is peculiar to its genus; just as in the case of different races of man, a language which though capable of interpretation by a member of the group which speaks it, can not be generally understood by other races in minute detail; although among both men and animals there are a few cries, etc., that can be generally understood; as those of alarm communicated by screams, stamping of the ground, etc. But we must note that whatever may be the kind and extent of language in animals, it is in them always expressive only of animal sensations and sense impressions and reasonings.

Particular animals, birds, insects, etc., bark, gibber, bray, sing, crow, grunt, rub their wing-cases (crickets), etc., showing that each has a different language, and different modes of expressing emotion: showing, too, by these differences that their sorts of minds must vary much more from one another, than do the minds of men in their different human varieties; for men do not employ such immensely different modes of conveying their ideas and feelings by sounds as is the case in animals with their lowing, snorting, barking, etc.

The making of these very different sounds by different animals is therefore to me the clearest possible proof that different animals possess different sorts of mind; yet of course there is some general resemblance, as is the case in so many of God’s works made diversely in specific instances, yet on the same general plan in the main. I said just now that, while fully admitting the possession of a kind of language by animals, I should maintain strictly that it is not of an intellectual character, and I may be asked what I mean by this assertion.

My answer is that I believe the language of the animal is limited chiefly to the expression of animal needs; and animal sensations; and the conveyance of such requirements, and feelings to their kind; although it can doubtless be used also for communicating in some slight degree such ideas concerning animal experiences and feelings as their feeble reasoning powers enable them to arrive at; such as the devices for protection, and escape from danger; and the manifestation and interpretation of the sort of questionings, and answerings which occur when two dogs meet, as shown by the wagging of tails, and pleased looks, or the reverse; and which seem to indicate as if the dogs could by gesture, etc., ask, and reply to one another, whether it is to be peace, or war.

My belief is that the mind of the mere animal is in no ease able to reach beyond the limit of simple ministration to the animal needs, and animal feelings, and instincts of the creature according to its kind; and that it can never form pure intellectual ideas, such as those of intellectual love; intellectual hatred; intellectual ideas as to time; space; God, etc. Nor can it form the mental abstractions—words—and by the use of these arrive at the intellectual operation of mind which their employment renders possible.

MODES OF EXPRESSING LANGUAGE IN ANIMALS.

These may take place—

First—By vocal intonations (as in man) in brutes and birds: and I may remark that all brutes possess a tongue, larynx, and vocal cords; and that birds have these also, with the exception that the bird’s larynx (syrinx) is rather modified from that of man and the mammalia; still we know its perfection; and we know how the parrot can use it.

Secondly—By gesture and visual regard, as seen in dogs, and in birds.

Thirdly—By means of sounds other than vocal, as is witnessed in the stamping on the ground by various animals to intimate danger. Also the noises of insects made by rubbing their wing-cases (elytra) together, as in the cricket, etc.

Fourthly—By means of touch, as in the cases of ants, bees, and other insects, which can convey meanings by crossing their antennÆ.

Fifthly—Other signs, etc., perhaps, with which we have no acquaintance, and can form no conjecture.

Sixthly—Information can also probably be ascertained by smell.

By any one of these means separately, or together, it doubtless is possible for very numerous species of creatures to communicate with their kind by means of a language,—little articulate it may be—but still more or less articulate, according to endowment.

Let us now consider animal language by whatever mode effected; and to do so I propose to divide the subject into two sections.

First—The language of the sensations.

Second—The language of the instinctive mind.

First—The language expressive of the bodily sensations.

This, I have no doubt, is in great measure, if not entirely, automatic, for like as when you tread on a man’s toe, or give him a thump on the back, he involuntarily cries out—Oh! So when you tread on a cat’s tail, she gives utterance to her characteristic scream.

But it is not only bodily pain that can be proclaimed aloud, but hosts of other sensations can also be expressed in various ways. The lamb, or the kitten, feels the sensation of hunger, and it doubtless involuntarily bleats, or mews, for its mother; although it does not in the least know the meaning of “Ba,” or “Mew,” or why it gives utterance to such sounds.

And so of the notes of the crowing cock, the “gobbling” turkey, and the sibilant cricket, etc.

And then as to numbers of other cries, etc., too numerous to mention; such as the chirping of sparrows on the approach of rain, the moaning and whining of animals in pain, the cackling of the hen after laying an egg, etc.,—all these arise doubtless from bodily sensations, and may be termed the language of the involuntary or automatic part of the organic mind.

Second—The language of the instinctive mind.

I have above briefly spoken of the language expressive of the bodily sensations, and have termed it really the automatic language of what I call the “organic mind,” or “vital force.” Now we must speak of the language capable of being used by the “instinctive mind”—a language, I believe, that is sometimes involuntary or automatic, but which at other times is under the voluntary control of such kind of will, judgment, and choice as is capable of being exercised by the creature according to its mental endowment as decreed and specialized.

Thus, by sounds or gestures, or other modes, animals, birds, insects, etc., can express fear of danger, friendliness, hatred, anger, triumph, etc.; and in some instances, as in the bee, can communicate such special information as that the “queen is dead,” etc.

See two dogs meet: they evidently quite understand each other, and by wagging of tails and bright glances, or the reverse; and a cheerful bark or a savage snarl, can quickly intimate whether a gambol or a fight is to result. No doubt, as in man, this result will be greatly guided by the state of the bodily sensations (digestion, etc.), and as to age and natural character; but yet the dogs’ communications, we may be sure are only concerning pure animal sensations or concerns, and never assume an intellectual character, such as, “How is your beloved mistress?” etc.

Then look at the watchful bird on the tree-top, or the sentinel bull on the hillock; each can sound the alarm, because its intuition or its experience tells of danger. And then look at a party of rooks holding a palaver; who can doubt but that in some way they communicate certain feelings and perhaps ideas? And so as to hosts of other birds and beasts; but then their mental processes cannot possibly—for reasons which I have repeatedly given—be considered as of an intellectual sort like that of man, indeed it very probably may be of so different a kind to ours that we can not even guess at the nature of it.

I have not space to illustrate all the visible manifestations of the different phases of mind in animals, but to mention only one other, who can doubt but that in regard to triumph after a victory, the cock when he gets on an elevation and crows must experience some of the pride of conquest, and must have a sort of conception of the abstract idea of exultation in regard to his courage and prowess?

And yet although, as in my opinion, we must not delude ourselves by thinking that the foregoing are simply produced by reflex actions arising only from bodily sensations; so we must not equally be misled by supposing that such results arise from intellectual reasoning. No! in my opinion, although all these acts and sounds are performed, and produced, in some measure—and in some measure only—according to the dictates of a sort of conscious will; and a sort of abstract reasoning (in some cases), yet they can only occur, or be done, strictly according to the caliber, and quality, and specific endowment of the kind of non-intellectual mind with which the creature has been gifted by God—a caliber, and quality, and specific sort of mind which I will not pretend to be able, in any way, to explain the nature of, or essential mode of working.