This
is accordingly exhibited in various features, as circumstances
may call forth the operation of the power; but so wonderful are
the attributes of Nature that the details of her arrangements
throughout the animal and insect creation give to every class an
amount of sense which in many instances surmounts the narrow
bounds of simple instinct.
The great characteristic of sheer instinct is its want of
progression; it never increases, never improves. It is possessed
now in the nineteenth century by every race of living creatures
in no larger proportion than was bestowed upon them at the
creation.
In general, knowledge increases like a rolling snowball; a
certain amount forms a base for extra improvement, and upon
successive foundations of increasing altitude the eminence has
been attained of the present era. This is the effect of
"reason;" but "instinct," although beautiful in its original
construction, remains, like the blossom of a tree, ever the same
- a limited effect produced by a given cause; an unchangeable law
of Nature that certain living beings shall perform certain
functions which require a certain amount of intelligence; this
amount is supplied by Nature for the performance of the duties
required; this is instinct.
Thus, according to the requirements necessitated by the habits of
certain living creatures to an equivalent amount is their share
of instinct. Reason differs from instinct as combining the
effects of thought and reflection; this being a proof of
consideration, while instinct is simply a direct emanation from
the brain, confined to an impulse.
In our observations of Nature, especially in tropical countries,
we see numberless exemplifications of these powers, in some of
which the efforts of common instinct halt upon the extreme
boundary and have almost a tinge of reason.
What can be more curious than the nest of the tailor-bird - a
selection of tough leaves neatly sewn one over the other to form
a waterproof exterior to the comfortable little dwelling within?
Where does the needle and thread come from? The first is the
delicate bill of the bird itself, and the latter is the strong
fibre of the bark of a tree, with which the bird sews every leaf,
lapping one over the other in the same manner that slates are
laid upon a roof.
Nevertheless this is simple instinct; the tailor-bird in the days
of Adam constructed her nest in a similar manner, which will be
continued without improvement till the end of time.
The grosbeak almost rivals the tailor-bird in the beautiful
formation of its nest. These birds build in company, twenty or
thirty nests being common upon one tree. Their apparent
intention in the peculiar construction of their nests is to avoid
the attacks of snakes and lizards. These nests are about two
feet long, composed of beautifully woven grass, shaped like an
elongated pear. They are attached like fruit to the extreme end
of a stalk or branch, from which they wave to and fro in the
wind, as though hung out to dry. The bird enters at a
funnel-like aperture in the bottom, and by this arrangement the
young are effectually protected from reptiles.
All nests, whether of birds or insects, are particularly
interesting, as they explain the domestic habits of the
occupants; but, however wonderful the arrangement and the beauty
of the work as exhibited among birds, bees, wasps, etc., still it
is the simple effect of instinct on the principle that they never
vary.
The white ant - that grand destroyer of all timber - always works
under cover; he builds as he progresses in his work of
destruction, and runs a long gallery of fine clay in the
direction of his operations; beneath this his devastation
proceeds until he has penetrated to the interior of the beam, the
centre of which he entirely demolishes, leaving a thin shell in
the form of the original log encrusted over the exterior with
numerous galleries.
There is less interest in the habits of these destructive
wretches than in all other of the ant tribe; they build
stupendous nests, it is true, but their interior economy is less
active and thrifty than that of many other species of ants, among
which there is a greater appearance of the display of reasoning
powers than in most animals of a superior class.
On a fine sunny morning it is not uncommon, to see ants busily
engaged in bringing out all the eggs from the nest and laying
them in the sun until they become thoroughly warmed, after which
they carry them all back again and lay them in their respective
places. This looks very like a power of reasoning, as it is
decidedly beyond instinct. If they were to carry out the eggs
every morning, wet or dry, it would be an effort of instinct to
the detriment of the eggs; but as the weather is uncertain, it
is an effort of reason on the part of the ants to bring out the
eggs to the sun, especially as it is not an every-day occurrence,
even in fine weather.
In Mauritius, the negroes have a custom of turning the reasoning
powers of the large black ant to advantage.
White ants are frequently seen passing in and out of a small hole
from underneath a building, in which case their ravages could
only be prevented by taking up the flooring and destroying the
nest.
The negroes avoid this by their knowledge of the habits of the
black ant, who is a sworn enemy to the white.
They accordingly pour a little treacle on the ground within a
yard of the hole occupied by the white ants. The smell of the
treacle shortly attracts some of the black species, who, on their
arrival are not long in observing their old enemies passing in
and out of the hole.
