Maternal affection among birds, deer, and other animals is frequently bestowed mainly on the weakest of a brood or family mothers feed and tend their weaklings with conspicuous assiduity (Jesse). Just so does the human mother tend her diseased, deformed, or idiotic child. In the camel herd of Warburton, in his journey across Western Australia, when, on a critical occasion, the master bull had poisoned itself, and was consequently ill and temporarily helpless, the young bulls became aware of the fact almost before it was apparent to the camel-men-with this practical and serious result, that these young animals at once showed signs of insubordination both to their own leader— the master bull in question-and to their human masters; in other words, they took immediate advantage of circumstances. The sense of helplessness includes further the sense of futility of effort, of the vainness, hopelessness of further attempt at defence or escape; and it begets, therefore, despair, with all its results of whatever kind. These results are of a very opposite kind, for despair begets in one animal a condition of fury or frenzy, urging it to behaviour of an immediately self-destructive character, and in another a paralysis of thought and effort, or a morbid indifference, that bring about its doom with equal certainty, and perhaps with greater torture, though not so speedily. This sense of personal helplessness, of want of power or ability to compass some desired end, is associated with the sense of difficulty or danger and of need for other help than their own. On the other hand it is quite as common for animals not to perceive the uselessness of their sacrifices or labours, a subject treated of in the chapters on Errors.' It is important to bear in mind that, just as certain animals are keen and ready at observing, and sometimes at taking advantage of physical impotence or disability in each other, they also appreciate man's infirmities, both of mind and body. In some cases they make kindly allowance for them. Thus we are told that Sir Edwin Landseer's terrier Tiney,' when it begged from Mr. Charles Landseer, who was deaf, 'invariably barked in a much louder note than when addressing any other member of the family' (Macaulay). And it is notorious that even captious dogs make ample allowance for the thoughtlessness and helplessness of human infancy. 3. A clear perception of the nature and extent of danger, and of the different kinds of danger, including a. Sometimes a decided preference of one (minor) to another (major) risk. b. A consideration of the various means whereby danger may be avoided or escaped from. They discriminate between a certain enemy, or danger, and a possible friend, or safety. 4. The ready conveyance of intelligence of events, the communication to each other of their desires or wants, the arranging of plans, bargains, or compacts. 5. Willingness to help each other; good nature in bestowing aid where and when asked and required; the rendering of mutual assistance appropriate as to time and character. 6. Knowledge of the use or object of emetics and purgatives, as well as of the nature of wounds, and of remedies and their action, whether medical, medicinal, or surgical. Possibly the dog and other animals recognise or understand the nature, or at least the dangerousness, of some of their own diseases—a knowledge which leads, for instance, to avoidance of diseased fellows. They would appear to be acquainted with the fact of the contagiousness of certain diseases; that contact with, or contiguity to, animals showing certain symptoms may develop like bodily disorder in themselves. At all events, we are told that hounds, for example, frequently show very decided fear of their rabid companions (Fleming); and that a sheep, when affected by a fatal form of dysentery locally known (in the southern highlands of Scotland) as 'breakshugh,' 'instantly withdraws from all the rest, shunning their society with the greatest care. It even hides itself, and is often hard to be found' (Hogg). Here, then, are two cases of an opposite kind; the hounds avoiding the diseased individual, and the diseased sheep isolating itself from the sound members of the flock. This avoidance or isolation-if and where it exists-may very readily and naturally arise from the biting or other dangerous or singular habits of their companions. But from what we know of the keen observation of facts connected with physical, and even mental conditions in their young, their mates, their companions, their leaders, even in man, there is no room for doubt that notice of the symptoms of disease, and inference as to the dangerousness of given diseases, falls quite within the powers of the dog, cat, and many other animals. They readily read the signs of suffering in man, the signs of character, even; they can follow man's moods or feelings, interpret his feature-play with such nicety as apparently to foresee and forestall his very intentions; and there is, therefore, nothing strange in the supposition that they can equally well read the signs of disease in each other. Nor, indeed, is there good ground for doubting that animals can communicate to each other their morbid as well as healthy feelings. Why should we believe for a moment that the free and full intercommunication of ideas, feelings, wants, wishes, is confined to their normal condition or expression ? |