his table from the flesh of all animals and the fruits of all climes. There is no flesh which he cannot eat and digest; no vegetable, not poisonous, to which he cannot adapt his appetite and his taste. Even grass and leaves, in the absence of all other food, will sustain his life for a season. The kind of flesh selected by different people is, in a great measure, conventional; what some reject, others consider their richest dainty. The same is true of vegetables. But it is not so with the animal races. The animal of a certain species selects the same food, the world over, in all ages any essential deviation occasions sickness and death. This omnivorousness of man eminently fits him to inhabit all countries, at all seasons; to endure all climates; to live on sea and on land; to dwell in cities and in forests, in deep ravines and on mountain tops; to range the world at large, and lord it over creation. Some have considered it an argument for man's servility and dependence, that he partakes of so many kinds of food. But they should consider that he is not dependent on all these. He can subsist, like the animal, on one or two, and hence has the twofold advantage of living when, and where the animal cannot, and of feasting upon all kinds, where they are at his service. From the oyster, the turtle, the frog; from the hosts of the finny tribes, in waters salt and fresh; from all the animals that graze the fields, range the forests, and climb the moun tains; from all the "winged racers of the sky," he gath ers the smoking viands of his board. To the substantial gifts of the earth, the corn, rice, and esculent roots, he adds the savory spices of India, the luscious fruits of sunny climes, and cools his tongue in summer with the crystal ice dug from the heart of winter. It is, then, no poetry, but severe truth, to say that man makes the whole living world subserve his purposes; that all the fish of the sea, all the fowls of the air, all the beasts of the field, and all the vegetable creation lay their united offerings upon his board; and to all he is prepared to give a cordial reception. Having thus seen the superiority of man's body over that of the animal, we are the better prepared to trace the corresponding superiority of his mind. In the mean time, there is one quality in respect to which, in the absence of reason, the animal has the superiority-I refer, of course, to instinct. Having taken some notice of this, in the next chapter, we shall proceed to the main subject. QUESTIONS ON CHAPTER II. What is the first difference that strikes us between men and brutes? Why deserving of notice? What is said of the vegetable? Of the animal? Of the distinction between them? Of animalcules? Distinction between men and animals? How does God move in the work of creation? What may we not infer? First particular difference between men and brutes? Remarks. How is man formed? In reference to walking? The animal? Second particular difference? The covering of animals? Its resemblance to that of trees? Its changes? Of what does it deprive the animal? What superior advantages has man in this respect? Third particular difference? What of man's head and face? Of the animal's? What of the lower parts of the human face? Of the upper? Fourth particular difference? Remarks. What have animals in place of the human hand? What does the human hand do? Give particulars. In what lies the fifth difference between man and brutes? What is said of the mouth and throat of animals? Particulars. Those of mån? Particulars. What is the sixth difference between men and brutes? What is man said to be? The range of animals in respect to food? Particulars. The range of man? To what does this adapt him? How does it appear that this does not render him servile? Remarks. CHAPTER III. INSTINCT. INSTINCT, in brutes, is a substitute for human reason. As this subject has but an incidental connection with intellectual philosophy, it will here receive but a brief notice. Some allow no instinct to man, and no intelligence to the brute; referring all the actions of the one to instinct, and all those of the other to intellect.* However this may be, the brute has certainly a much larger endowment of instinct than man; and that, evidently, because destitute of reason. DEFINITION OF INSTINCT. "AN INSTINCT is a propensity prior to experience, and independent of instruction." This is the definition given by Paley, and perhaps the best that can be framed. He adds, "We contend that it is by instinct that the sexes of animals seek each other; that animals cherish their offspring; that the young quadruped is directed to the teat of its dam; that birds build their nests, and brood with so much patience upon their eggs, deposit them in those particular. situations in which the young, when hatched, find their appropriate food; that it is instinct which carries the salmon, and some other fish, out of the sea into rivers, for the purpose of shedding their spawn in fresh water." † *See Bowen on Metaphysical and Ethical Science, p. 222. DISTINCTION BETWEEN INSTINCT AND REASON. As these are set off against each other, in the animal and human races, it will further our inquiries to notice their most material points of difference. We shall find that animals have, in common with man, to some extent, sensation, perception, memory; all these are implied in many of their instinctive acts. As they pertain to man, they will be considered in their appropriate place. Over and above these, man has rational powers to guide him, while animals have those of instinct. They differ in the following particulars: 1. Instinct is MATURE AT ONCE; reason matures GRADUALLY. So progressive is reason, that philosophy is puzzled to tell when it commences. The first developments of reason are exceedingly feeble, and it is a long time before it can go alone. Through the whole period of infancy, little or no reliance can be placed upon the rational powers; nor is it until a process of training has been realized, that the child is competent even to select appropriate food, and use the other essential means of life. But no sooner is the chicken hatched than it seeks a proper shelter, and, at the right time, looks around for food, selects only appropriate kinds, and practises, skilfully, all the arts of self-preservation and self-nutrition which we see in the older and more experienced. This is true of a solitary chicken, hatched by artificial means, and never seeing any other fowl. If it does this by reason, then its rational powers far transcend those of man; if by instinct, then instinct is mature at once, and independent of all instruction. 2. Instinct is a BLIND IMPULSE; reason is a REFLECTIVE POWER. The one qualifies the mind to think and judge for itself; the other is the mind of the Creator, operating through that of the animal. The instinctive movements of the animal are those of a mere instrument, operated by divine wisdom; the rational movements of man are those of a responsible agent. The animal knows not why he does thus and so; he cannot interpret his own acts; he can give no reason for them. Man, on the contrary, knows what he does, and can give a reason for his conduct. "However it may be with the brute," says Bowen, "reason is not united with instinct (properly so called) in man. The human intellect is pure and unmixed. It may be obscured by appetite, or stormed by passion; habit may render its operations so swift and easy that we cannot note and remember their succession. But when free from these disturbing forces, it acts always with a full perception of the end in view, and, by a deliberate choice of means, aims at its accomplishment. We have the immediate testimony of consciousness that we never select means until experience has informed us of their efficacy, and never use them but with a full knowledge of their relation to the end." * 3. Instinct is LIMITED, reason is UNIVERSAL. Indeed, the entire range of instinct embraces only four objects -nutrition, protection, motion, propagation; and these might, perhaps, be further reduced to two or three. Each animal has its own specific instinct, beyond the range of which it is utterly incompetent. Each species has its own kinds of food and ways of receiving it; its own method of locomotion; its own manner of propagating, cherishing, nourishing, training its young. Left to itself, each will take a particular course, and no other; and if we undertake to force it into another, we soon find that we are contending against nature. The eagle, the swallow, the ground bird, will each build its nest in its own way and place; the gosling and the duck, hatched by the hen, and knowing no other parent, will disregard her call, and plunge into the water, and act just like all other goslings and ducks. The cat has her peculiar ways, and can never be forced into those of the dog. Thus does the Creator, by specific instincts, limit and mark the several species of the animal creation. Reason, on the contrary, is applied in all directions, and embraces all subjects. It can regard all possible objects, appropriate all possible means, and sweep the entire compass of human interests and relations, as they * Lowell Lectures, p. 242. |