Ethnic Groups And Population Changes In

Twentieth Century Eastern Europe Eberhardt

download

https://ebookbell.com/product/ethnic-groups-and-population-
changes-in-twentieth-century-eastern-europe-eberhardt-232014368

Explore and download more ebooks at ebookbell.com

Here are some recommended products that we believe you will be
interested in. You can click the link to download.

Ethnic Groups And Population Changes In Twentieth Century Eastern

Europe History Data And Analysis 1st Edition Piotr Eberhardt Jan
Owsinski

https://ebookbell.com/product/ethnic-groups-and-population-changes-in-
twentieth-century-eastern-europe-history-data-and-analysis-1st-
edition-piotr-eberhardt-jan-owsinski-51980632

Ethnic Groups And Boundaries Today A Legacy Of Fifty Years Thomas

Hylland Eriksen Marek Jakoubek

https://ebookbell.com/product/ethnic-groups-and-boundaries-today-a-
legacy-of-fifty-years-thomas-hylland-eriksen-marek-jakoubek-11084994

Chinas Ethnic Groups And Religions 1st Zheng Qian

https://ebookbell.com/product/chinas-ethnic-groups-and-religions-1st-
zheng-qian-2249632

The Tatars The History Of The Tatar Ethnic Groups And Tatar
Confederation Charles River Editors

https://ebookbell.com/product/the-tatars-the-history-of-the-tatar-
ethnic-groups-and-tatar-confederation-charles-river-editors-23543114
The New Diversity Of Family Life In Europe Mobile Ethnic Groups And
Flexible Boundaries 1st Edition Banu Itlak

https://ebookbell.com/product/the-new-diversity-of-family-life-in-
europe-mobile-ethnic-groups-and-flexible-boundaries-1st-edition-banu-
itlak-5885524

Why Arent They There The Political Representation Of Women Ethnic

Groups And Issue Positions In Legislatures Didier Ruedin

https://ebookbell.com/product/why-arent-they-there-the-political-
representation-of-women-ethnic-groups-and-issue-positions-in-
legislatures-didier-ruedin-44467268

Ethnic Groups Of Africa And The Middle East An Encyclopedia Ethnic

Groups Of The World John A Shoup

https://ebookbell.com/product/ethnic-groups-of-africa-and-the-middle-
east-an-encyclopedia-ethnic-groups-of-the-world-john-a-shoup-2493852

Racial And Ethnic Groups Fourteenth Edition Schaefer Richard T

https://ebookbell.com/product/racial-and-ethnic-groups-fourteenth-
edition-schaefer-richard-t-22038602

Racial And Ethnic Groups 15e Richard T Schaefer Schaefer Richard T

https://ebookbell.com/product/racial-and-ethnic-groups-15e-richard-t-
schaefer-schaefer-richard-t-35190118
Random documents with unrelated
content Scribd suggests to you:
embryonic condition out of which it has arisen by natural genesis. In
doing this we have been forced to make some reference to the
difficulties of technical nomenclature. And some further reference is
necessary lest our point of view be misunderstood.
We shall regard these abstract and general ideas as the products of
an intentional purpose directed to the special end of isolating the
one and of classifying the other; we shall reserve the term rational
for the conduct which is guided in accordance with an ideal scheme
or deliberate plan of action; while for behaviour to the guidance of
which no such reflection and deliberation seems to have contributed
we shall reserve the term intelligent. If, for example, the rejection of
a cinnabar caterpillar by the chick is the direct result of experience
through the re-presentation in the new situation of certain elements
introduced during the development of a like situation, we shall call it
an intelligent act. But if we have grounds for supposing that the
situation is reflectively considered by the chick in relation to an ideal
and more or less definitely conceived plan of action which is
(perhaps dimly) taking form in its mind, we shall regard it as so far
rational. And so, too, in other cases of animal behaviour. Now, with
regard to the control through which consciousness is effective in the
guidance of behaviour, it is necessary, in view of these
considerations, to distinguish its intelligent from its rational exercise.
And this is of importance since we generally speak of control in the
latter sense in reference to human conduct. Intelligent control (on
the perceptual plane) is due to the direct operation of the results of
experience without the intervention of any generalized conception or
ideal. In rational control (on the ideational plane), such conceptions
and ideals exert a controlling influence. If, to prevent a boy sucking
his thumb we administer bitter aloes, we trust to intelligent control
through the immediate effects of experience; but if he be induced to
give up the habit because it is babyish, he so far exercises rational
control. What we call self-control is of this type. Only one more
distinction need be drawn. Intelligent behaviour, founded on direct
association gained through previous experience, we shall attribute to
impulse; but for rational conduct, the outcome of reflection and
deliberation, we seek to ascertain the motive. In human affairs our
motives are referred to certain categories each of which presupposes
an ideal scheme, prudential, æsthetic, ethical, or other. To act from
motive and not from impulse is to act deliberately, because we judge
the action to be expedient, seemly, or right, as the case may be. If,
then, we contrast the lower perceptual stages of mental evolution
with the higher ideational phases, the former includes behaviour due
to impulse; but from it conduct due to motive is excluded.

IV.—The Evolution of Consciousness

The origin of consciousness, like that of matter or energy, appears to
be beyond the pale of scientific discussion. The appearance of
effective consciousness on the scene of life does indeed seem to
justify the belief in the prior existence of sentience as the mere
accompaniment of organic behaviour. Ex nihilo nihil fit. And since
effective consciousness must, on this principle, be developed from
something, it is reasonable to assume that this something is pre-
existing sentience. Again, we may assume that this sentience is a
concomitant of all life-processes, or only of some. But we have no
criterion by which we can hope to determine which of these
alternatives is the more probable.
We appear, however, at all events to have evidence that when
effective consciousness does enter on the scene and play its part in
the guidance of behaviour, its progress is, in technical phraseology,
marked by that differentiation of conscious elements, and that
integration of these differentiated items, which are seemingly the
correlatives of the differentiation and integration of nervous systems.
There is thus, presumably, a progressive development of orderly
complexity in the conscious situations of which controlled or guided
behaviour is the outcome. And when this has reached a certain
stage—what stage it is most difficult to determine—the relationships,
at first implicit in the conscious situations, as they naturally arise in
the course of experience, begin to be rendered explicit with the
dawn of reflection. Intentional abstraction and generalization to
which data are afforded by the reiterated emphasis in experience of
the salient features in successive situations, supply new elements to
the more highly developed situations of rational life. Ideal schemes
and plans of action, the products of reflection and foresight, take
form in the mind and enter into the conscious situation. And the
intelligent animal, hitherto the creature of impulse, guided only by
the pleasurable or painful tone which gives colour to experience,
becomes a rational being, capable of judging how far his own
behaviour and that of others is conformable to an ideal.
If, then, we were asked to characterize in the briefest possible terms
the stages of conscious evolution, we should say that in the first
stage we have consciousness as accompaniment; in the second,
consciousness as guide; in the third, consciousness as judge. And if
we were pressed to apply distinctive terms to these three, we should
adopt St. George Mivart’s term consentience for the mid-phase, and
speak of mere sentience in the first stage; consentience in the
second; and consciousness, with restricted signification, in the third
and highest stage. Such a distinction in terms is, however, a counsel
of perfection, and we shall not attempt to preserve it in the following
pages, in which the word “consciousness” will be used in a
comprehensive sense.
Ever since the publication of Darwin’s “Origin of Species,”
evolutionists have been divided into two sections where
consciousness in the narrower sense is under discussion. The
members of the one have contended that, though the physical and
perhaps the lower mental nature of man is the outcome of
evolutionary process, his higher mental attributes are of other origin.
The members of the second section have urged that the higher not
less than the lower characteristics of the mind of man have been
evolved. It is somewhat strange that naturalists who accept the
latter position are not infrequently impatient when any serious
attempt is made to discuss it from the standpoint of psychology. It
is, however, becoming more and more clearly evident that the
discussion of the relation of the animal to the human mind, if it is to
be made a subject of scientific inquiry, must be conducted on
psychological lines by those who have devoted years of study to the
subject. In this work such a discussion will be attempted, and animal
behaviour will be treated as the precursor of human conduct, and as
affording evidence of the germs from which the distinctively human
mental attributes may have been evolved.
 CHAPTER III
INSTINCTIVE BEHAVIOUR

I.—Definition of Instinctive Behaviour

There are probably few subjects which have afforded more material
for wonder and pious admiration than the instinctive endowments of
animals. “I look upon instinct,” wrote Addison in one of his graceful
essays, “as upon the principle of gravitation in bodies, which is not
to be explained by any known qualities inherent in the bodies
themselves, nor from any laws of mechanism, but as an immediate
impression from the first Mover and the Divine Energy acting in the
creatures.”[21] In like manner Spence said: “We may call the instincts
of animals those faculties implanted in them by the Creator, by
which, independent of instruction, observation or experience, and
without a knowledge of the end in view, they are all alike impelled to
the performance of certain actions tending to the well-being of the
individual and the preservation of the species.”[22] According to such
views, instinct is an ultimate principle the natural genesis of which is
beyond the pale of explanation. But similar views were, at the time
these passages were written, held to apply, not only to animal
behaviour, but also to animal structure. The development of the
stag’s antler, or of the insect’s wing, was also regarded as “an
immediate impression from the first Mover and the Divine Energy
acting in the creatures.” This view, however, is, neither in the case of
structure nor in the case of behaviour, that entertained by modern
science. It is indeed an expression of opinion concerning the
metaphysics of instinct. Leaving the question of ultimate origin
precisely where it stood in the times of Addison and of Spence,
modern science seeks to trace the natural antecedents of all natural
phenomena, and regards structure and behaviour alike as the
products of evolution, endeavouring to explain the manner of their
genetic origin in terms of progressive heredity.
Omitting, therefore, all reference to problems which, however
important, are beyond the limits of scientific inquiry,[23] we may take
as a basis for further discussion Spence’s definition, according to
which the instincts of animals are those faculties by which,
independent of instruction, observation, or experience, and without
a knowledge of the end in view, they are all alike impelled to the
performance of certain actions tending to their own well-being and
the preservation of the species.
Let us first consider the reference of instinctive actions to a faculty
by which animals are said to be impelled to their performance. Paley
also defined instinct as “a propensity prior to experience.” And
unquestionably in the popular conception it is usual to attribute
instinctive acts to some such conscious cause. But it will be more
convenient, for the present, to consider instinctive behaviour from
the objective point of view, as it is presented to our observation; we
may then proceed to the further consideration of the conscious
concomitants which may be inferred. From the objective point of
view, therefore, we may agree with Professor Groos, who says[24]
that “the idea of consciousness must be rigidly excluded from any
definition of instinct which is to be of practical utility,” since “it is
always hazardous in scientific investigation to allow an hypothesis
which cannot be tested empirically.” In this we have the support of
Dr. and Mrs. Peckham, whose studies of the life-histories of spiders
and wasps are models of careful and patient investigation. “Under
the term Instinct,” they say, “we place all complex acts which are
performed previous to experience, and in a similar manner by all
members of the same sex and race, leaving out as non-essential, at
this time, the question of whether they are or are not accompanied
by consciousness.”[25]
It may be said, however, that some reference to the conscious
aspect of instinctive behaviour is implied by saying that the acts are
performed without instruction or experience. But the reference at
present is wholly negative. We may say, as the result of observation,
that instinctive acts are performed under such circumstances as
exclude the possibility of guidance in the light of individual
experience, and render it in the highest degree improbable that
there exists any idea of the end to be attained. But this is a very
different position from that of asserting the presence of a positive
faculty or propensity which impels an animal to the performance of
certain actions. This it is which, from the observational point of view,
is unnecessary. For the reference of a given type of observed
behaviour to a “propensity” so to behave or to a “faculty” of thus
behaving, is no more helpful than the reference of the development
of any given type of structure to a “potentiality” so to develop. We
may, therefore, without loss of precision, simplify Spence’s definition
by stating that instinctive behaviour is independent of instruction
and experience, and tends to the well-being of the individual and the
preservation of the species.
Let us next consider the clause which affirms that instinctive
behaviour is prior to experience. This is well in line with the
distinction now drawn by biologists between congenital and acquired
characters. It refers them to the former category, and implies that
the organic mechanism by which they are rendered possible is of
germinal origin. This is not, however, universally admitted. Professor
Wundt, for example, approaching the subject from the point of view
afforded by the study of man and the higher animals, gives to the
term a wider meaning, and so defines instinct as to include acquired
habits. “Movements,” he says,[26] “which originally followed upon
simple or compound voluntary acts, but which have become wholly
or partly mechanized in the course of individual life, or of generic
evolution, we term instinctive actions.” In accordance with this
definition, instincts fall into two groups. Those “which, so far as we
can tell, have been developed during the life of the individual, and in
the absence of definite individual influences might have remained
wholly undeveloped, may be called acquired instincts.” They have
become instinctive through repetition. “To be distinguished from
these acquired human instincts are others which are connate.” Now,
there can be no question that behaviour which has become habitual
through frequent repetition is frequently, in popular speech,
described as instinctive. We hear it said that the experienced cyclist
guides his machine instinctively. And the word is similarly used in
many like cases. But we shall find it conducive to precision and
clearness of thought to emphasize the distinction between what is
acquired in the course of life and what is congenital in the race. And
to this end we shall regard behaviour which has “become
mechanized in the course of individual life” as due to acquired habit,
reserving the term instinctive for such behaviour as is independent
of individual experience. We shall, in short, so far accept Spence’s
definition.
In this definition, as in those of the majority of naturalists, it seems
to be further implied that instinctive behaviour is of a relatively
definite kind, though it is no doubt subject to such variation as is
found in animal structure and organization. Mr. Rutgers Marshall,
however, in a recent work,[27] protests against any such implication,
and urges that “this variableness is so wide that definiteness of
reaction cannot for a moment be used as a differentia in relation to
instinct without narrowing our conception of the bounds of instinct in
a manner to be deplored.” “The actions,” he says, “connected with
the preparation for self-defence, those connected with protection of
the young, with nest-building, with migration, etc., these actions are
surely to be classed as instinctive; and yet they are exceedingly
variable and unpredictable in detail; all that we can predict is the
general trend of the varying actions which result from varying stimuli
under varying conditions, and which function to some determinate
biological end.”
Mr. Marshall then proceeds to argue that we are “warranted in
speaking of the ethical instincts, of the patriotic instincts, of the
benevolent instincts, and of the artistic instincts;” and thus leads up
to the position, to be further elaborated in his work, that there exists
in man a religious instinct which has fulfilled a function of biological
value in the development of our race. Now, here again there is much
in popular usage of the words instinct and instinctive which lends
support, for what it is worth, to Mr. Marshall’s very broad conception
of the range of instinct. Again and again we hear, in the pulpit and
elsewhere, of the religious instinct; we hear, too, of the benevolent,
patriotic, and artistic instincts, and more besides. But what we are
endeavouring to define is a type of behaviour which, as such, is prior
to instruction and experience. Can we affirm that patriotic and
religious behaviour conforms to such a type? Is it unquestionably
congenital and not acquired? If we are forced to give negative
answers to these questions we must regard Mr. Marshall’s conception
of instinct (one inclusive of multifarious tendencies which have a
biological value) as too broad and too vague to be of any service to
us at this stage of our study of animal behaviour.
What, then, shall we understand by Spence’s phrase that instinct
involves the performance of “certain actions”? And how far shall we
accept it? We shall take it as implying so much definiteness of
behaviour as renders instinctive acts susceptible of scientific
investigation, and in this sense shall accept it with some modification
of phraseology. We shall freely admit, however, the existence of
variations of instinctive behaviour analogous to variations in animal
structure. It is the occurrence of such variations that renders the
natural selection of instinctive modes of behaviour conceivable. We
shall also admit some, nay much, variation in detail. Take, for
example, two of the cases which Mr. Marshall cites—nest-building
and migration. Both involve, not merely a simple response to a given
stimulus, but a complex sequence of actions. In detail there may be
much variation even among members of the same species. And yet,
can it be questioned that the behaviour as a whole is in each case
relatively definite? May we not even say that it is remarkably
definite? May we not even go further, and assert that only on the
assumption that any given instinctive act is relatively definite, can
we regard it as a subject for scientific investigation, and can we
hope to distinguish it from other modes of behaviour?
The next point for consideration in Spence’s definition, which we
have taken as our text, is his characterization of instinctive acts as
“tending to the well-being of the individual and the preservation of
the species.” Here we have Mr. Marshall with us, for he too lays
stress on the fact that instinctive behaviour has reference to a
definite biological end. But in saying that the biological end is the
objective mark of an instinct,[28] he seems to be in error. Because, in
the first place, there are other “objective marks,” and because, in the
second place, this objective mark is not restricted to instinctive
behaviour. According to Spence, a further characteristic of instinctive
acts is that they are independent of instruction or experience; and
this serves to differentiate them from other modes of behaviour
which are also subservient to a biological end. Intelligent behaviour,
not less than that which we term instinctive, has reference to a
biological end. Many intelligent acts, for example, have for their
object the well-being of the individual; many subserve race
preservation; these bear, every whit as much as instinctive acts, the
“objective mark” which Mr. Marshall regards as characteristic of
instinct. And if we turn to his subjective criterion—the absence of
any conception of the biological end which the behaviour subserves
—Mr. Marshall’s position is equally untenable. There are thousands of
acquired modes of behaviour, dependent on instruction or
experience, in which there is, on the subjective side, so far as we
can judge, no conception of the biological end to be attained. What
can the animal in the early stages of intelligence know of biological
ends? Mr. Marshall’s subjective criterion applies just as much to a
wide range of intelligent behaviour as it does to instinctive actions.
In accepting, therefore, Spence’s statement that when animals
behave instinctively they perform, without a knowledge of the end in
view, certain actions tending to their own well-being and the
preservation of the species, we must take it in connection with the
preceding limitation, remembering that they are also performed
without instruction and experience.
A further point for very brief consideration is suggested by the
phrase in which Spence says that animals are all alike impelled to
the performance of certain actions. As it stands it is too sweeping
and general. Still, we do require some explicit statement of the facts
which he had in mind when he wrote the words “all alike.” And we
find it with sufficient exactness in Dr. Peckham’s definition, where he
comprises under the category of instinctive behaviour “all complex
acts which are performed previous to experience, and in a similar
manner by all members of the same sex and race.” This places
congenital behaviour in line with morphological structure as a
subject for comparative treatment.
One more question remains. What shall we understand by “complex
acts”? In the first place, it is well to restrict the term instinctive to
co-ordinated actions; and this implies the presence of nerve-centres
by which the co-ordination is effected. We thus exclude the organic
behaviour of plants, since there is no evidence in the vegetable
kingdom of co-ordinating centres. In the second place, the co-
ordination is, as we have seen, congenital, and not acquired in the
course of individual experience. Young water-birds, and indeed
young chicks, as soon as they are born, and have recovered from
the shock of birth, can swim with definite co-ordination of leg
movements. Here the definiteness is not only congenital, but
connate, if we use the latter term for an instinctive activity which is
performed at or very shortly after birth. On the other hand, young
swallows cannot fly at birth; they are then too immature, and their
wings are not sufficiently developed. But when they are some three
weeks old, and the wings have attained functional size and power,
little swallows can fly with considerable if not perfect skill. The co-
ordination is congenital, for it is not acquired in the course of
individual experience; but it is not connate, since it is not exhibited
at or shortly after birth. The term deferred may be applied to such
congenital activities as are thus carried out when the animal has
undergone a certain amount of further development after birth.
In the third place, it is customary to distinguish between such reflex
actions as have already been briefly exemplified,[29] and instinctive
behaviour. It is, however, by no means easy, if indeed it be possible,
to draw any sharp and decisive line of demarcation. Instinct has
indeed been well described by Mr. Herbert Spencer as compound
reflex action; hence the distinction between instinctive and reflex
behaviour turns in large degree on their relative complexity. It would
seem, however, that whereas a reflex act—such as the withdrawal of
the foot of a sleeping child when the sole is tickled—is a restricted
and localized response, involving a particular organ or a definite
group of muscles, and is initiated by a more or less specialized
external stimulus; instinctive behaviour is a response of the animal
as a whole, and involves the co-operation of several organs and of
many groups of muscles. Partly initiated by an external stimulus or
group of stimuli, it is also, seemingly, determined in part, in a
greater degree than reflex action, by internal factors which cause
uneasiness or distress, more or less marked, if they do not find their
normal instinctive satisfaction. This point, however, may be more
profitably discussed in connection with the conscious aspect of
instinct. If, then, we say that reflex acts are local responses of the
congenital type due to specialized stimuli, while instinctive activities
are matters of more general behaviour, usually involving a larger
measure of central (as opposed to local or ganglionic) co-ordination,
and due to the more widely-spread effects of stimuli in which both
external and internal factors co-operate, we shall probably get as
near as is possible to the distinction of which we are in search. But it
must be remembered that there are cases in which the distinction
can hardly be maintained.
We are now in a position to define instinctive behaviour as
comprising those complex groups of co-ordinated acts which are, on
their first occurrence, independent of experience; which tend to the
well-being of the individual and the preservation of the race; which
are due to the co-operation of external and internal stimuli; which
are similarly performed by all the members of the same more or less
restricted group of animals; but which are subject to variation, and
to subsequent modification under the guidance of experience.

II.—Instinctive Behaviour in Insects

Since instinctive behaviour is, by definition, independent of
experience, and since the animals which act instinctively are also, in
many cases, able to act intelligently, it is clear that, apart from
hereditary variations, we must expect to find acquired modifications
of instinct. As Huber said of bees, their instinctive procedure often
indicates “a little dose of judgment.” It is, indeed, exceedingly
difficult, as a matter of observation, to distinguish between
hereditary variation and acquired modification. For the rôle played by
these two factors in any given behaviour can only be determined if
the whole life-history of the individual be known, and if there be
opportunities for comparing it with the complete life-histories of
other members of its race. And this is seldom possible.
These considerations must be borne in mind as we proceed to a
brief study of some of the instinctive modes of behaviour in insects.
Dr. and Mrs. Peckham’s investigations on the instincts and habits of
the solitary wasps have been described in a volume[30] worthy to be
placed by the side of Fabre’s “Souvenirs.” Their descriptions seem to
glow with the warm sunshine, and are redolent of the fresh air
which afforded the conditions under which the observations were
conducted. We can but regret that, in extracting from their bright
pages some of the salient facts, the natural delicacy and grace of
their treatment must be lost. For we can only give the dry skeleton
which they have clothed with the flesh of lively detail. They
enumerate the following primary modes of instinctive behaviour:—
1. Stinging.
2. Taking a particular kind of food.
3. Method of attacking and capturing prey.
4. Method of carrying prey.
5. Preparing nest, and then capturing prey, or the reverse.
6. The mode of taking prey into the nest.
7. The general style and locality of the nest.
8. The spinning or not spinning of a cocoon, and its specific form
when one is made.
When the young Pelopœus emerges from the pupa-case and gnaws
its way out of the mud cell, with limp and flaccid wings, it responds
to a touch by well-directed movements of the abdomen with thrusts
of the sting, as perfect as those of the adult. There is clearly no
opportunity here for either instruction or experience to afford any
intelligent guidance. Stinging is an instinctive act. And it is an act of
which great use is made in the capture of prey which shall serve for
food to the young—it has a biological end. But the wasps of different
species do not have to learn by experience what prey to attack. It is
by instinct, too, that they take their proper food-supply, one
caterpillars, another spiders, a third flies or beetles. So deeply
seated, indeed, is the hereditary preference, that no fly-robber ever
takes spiders, nor will the capturer of spiders change to caterpillars
or beetles. Some keep to a few species or genera, while Philanthus
punctatus preys chiefly or entirely on bees of the genus Halictus.
Romanes[31] thought that the manner of stinging and paralyzing
their prey might “be justly deemed the most remarkable instinct in
the world.” Spiders, insects, and caterpillars are stung, he says, “in
their chief nerve-centres, in consequence of which the victims are
not killed outright, but rendered motionless; they are then conveyed
to a burrow and, continuing to live in their paralyzed condition for
several weeks, are then available as food for the larvæ when these
are hatched. Of course the extraordinary fact which stands to be
explained is that of the precise anatomical, not to say also
physiological knowledge which appears to be displayed by the insect
in stinging only the nerve-centres of its prey.” Eimer[32] thought that
it “is absolutely impossible that the animal has arrived at its habit
otherwise than by reflection upon the facts of experience.” “At the
beginning,” he says, “she probably killed larvæ by stinging them
anywhere, and then placed them in the cell. The bad results of this
showed themselves; the larvæ putrified before they could serve as
food for the larval wasps. In the mean time the mother wasp
discovered that those larvæ which she had stung in particular parts
of the body were motionless but still alive, and then she concluded
that larvæ stung in this particular way could be kept for a longer
time unchanged as living motionless food.”
Now, since these wasps, when they have stored their nests and laid
an egg on one of the victims, close it up once and for all, and take
no further interest in it or its contents, there seems no opportunity,
at any rate in the existing state of matters, for the acquisition of that
experience on which Eimer relied. But both his explanation and
Romanes’s difficulty are based on the following assumptions: first,
that the victims are instinctively or habitually stung in the chief
nerve-centres; secondly, that when thus stung they are not killed but
remain paralyzed for weeks; and thirdly, that the marvellously
definite and delicate instinctive behaviour is in direct relation to the
uniform result of prolonged paralysis and consequent preservation of
the food in the fresh state. But Dr. Peckham’s careful observations
and experiments show that, with the American wasps, the victims
stored in the nests are quite as often dead as alive; that those which
are only paralyzed live for a varying number of days, some more,
some less; that wasp larvæ thrive just as well on dead victims,
sometimes dried-up, sometimes undergoing decomposition, as on
living and paralyzed prey; that the nerve-centres are not stung with
the supposed uniformity; and that in some cases paralysis, in others
death, follows when the victims are stung in parts far removed from
any nerve-centre. “We believe,” he says, “that the primary purpose
of the stinging is to overcome resistance, and to prevent the escape
of the victims, and that incidentally some of them are killed and
others are paralyzed.”
If, therefore, as will probably be shown to be the case, these
conclusions are found to be generally true for this interesting group
of insects, the mystery of “the precise anatomical, not to say also
physiological knowledge which appears to be displayed” by these
wasps turns out to be one of our own fabrication. It melts away in
the light of fuller and more searching investigation.

Fig. 11.—Solitary Wasp stinging Caterpillar (after

Peckham).
It must not be supposed, however, from what has been said, that
the behaviour in the act of stinging is altogether indefinite. On the
contrary, each species proceeds in a relatively definite manner with
some variation or modification of method. Philanthus punctatus, for
example, stings the bees, on which she preys, under the neck, and
the thrust is at once fatal. Dr. Peckham further notes that he was
only successful in getting the wasps to sting when they were
hunting; those that had not yet begun to store the nests paid no
attention to the bees. This is an example of that internal factor to
which reference was made in the last section. Marchal observed that
Cerceris ornata runs the end of her abdomen along the under
surface of the thorax of the bee, and delivers her thrust at the
division of the segments—that is, where the sting can enter. The
action does not imply any physiological knowledge. In general she
begins at the neck. Spiders are usually, but not always, stung on the
ventral surface. To give but one more example, Dr. Peckham
observed in three cases the procedure of Ammophila urnaria which
preys on caterpillars, and often, after stinging, bites the neck in
several places, this process being termed malaxation. In three
observed captures, all the caterpillars being of the same species and
alike in size, the thrusts were given on the ventral surface near the
middle line, between the segments. In the first, seven stings were
given at the extremities (there being thirteen segments), the middle
segments being left untouched, and no malaxation was practised. In
the second, seven stings were again given, but in the anterior and
middle segments, followed by slight malaxation. In both these cases
the first three thrusts were in definite order, behind the third, the
second, and the first segments successively. In the case of the third
caterpillar, only one thrust was given, between the third and fourth
segments—that is to say, in the position of the first stab in the other
cases,—and after this one thrust there was prolonged malaxation. Of
fifteen stored caterpillars examined, some lived only three days,
others a little longer, while a few showed signs of life at the end of a
fortnight. In more than one instance the second of the two
caterpillars stored in each nest died and became discoloured before
the first one was entirely eaten. The larva under such circumstances
ate it with good appetite, and then spun its cocoon as if nothing
unpleasant had occurred.
 Fig. 12.—Solitary Wasp dragging a Caterpillar to its
Nest (after Peckham).
The mode of carrying their booty is in these wasps instinctive, and
relatively uniform. Ammophila urnaria grasps the caterpillar, near the
anterior end, in her mandibles, and carries or drags it beneath her
legs, walking forwards. It is generally but not always with the ventral
surface uppermost. Pompilus takes hold of her spider anywhere, but
always drags it over the ground, walking backwards. Oxybelus clasps
her fly with her hind legs; Bembex with the second pair. Each works
after her own fashion in a way that is relatively uniform for each
species.
The general style of the nest, its mode of construction, and its
method of closure, are always performed, says Dr. Peckham, by each
species in a similar manner, not indeed in circumstantial detail, but
quite in the same way in a broad sense. Variation or modification is
always present, but the tendency to depart from a nest of a given
type is not excessive. Some dig in the ground curved tunnels, with
or without one or more chambers. Others bore into decaying wood;
others use straws, or make tunnels in bramble stems; while the
mud-daubers build cells in which to store the food and lay the egg.
This is sometimes deposited on the first, sometimes on the last,
sometimes on some intermediate victim, but generally in much the
same place and position. Ammophila, for instance, lays it on the side
of the sixth or seventh segment—that is to say, in about the mid
position.
Some species first capture their prey, and then make the nest in
which it is to be entombed. Others first prepare the nest, and then
carry or drag their prey to it—often from considerable distances—
quite irrespective of what seems to us the more appropriate method
of the two under the particular circumstances of the case. And the
way in which the victim is dragged into the nest is similarly a matter
of inheritance. Each way is characteristic of the species concerned,
and would be an important part of any definition of the animal based
upon its modes of behaviour. For example, a Sphex places her
grasshopper just at the entrance of the nest, which she then enters
herself before dragging in her prey by the antennæ. When the wasp
was in the hole, Fabre moved the victim a little way off; the wasp
came out, brought the grasshopper to the entrance as before, and
went in a second time. This was repeated about forty times, each
time with the same result, until the patience of the naturalist was
exhausted, and the persistent wasp took her booty in after her
appropriate fashion. She must place the grasshopper close to the
opening; she must then descend and examine the nest, and, after
that, must drag it down. Nothing less than the performance of these
acts in a certain order satisfies her instinctive impulse.
In a private letter, from which he kindly allows me to quote, Dr.
Peckham says: “We have recently made some experiments on this
wasp (Sphex ichneumonea). First we allow her to carry in her prey
undisturbed, to see how far she was faithful to the traditions of her
ancestors, and to observe her normal methods. On the next day,
when she had placed her grasshopper just at the opening of the
nest, and while she was below, we drew it back to a little distance.
She came out, and we both repeated our operations four times—she
running down into the nest, always after getting the grasshopper
into position, and we as regularly drawing it away. The fifth time she
changed her plan, seized it by the head and backed into the nest
with it. The next day, at the fourth trial, she straddled it and walked
head first into the nest with it; and on the fourth day, at the eighth
trial, she backed in with it as on the second day.” These interesting
observations show that the wasp has sufficient intelligence to modify
her procedure in accordance with an unwonted situation. The
“consecutive necessity,” as it has been termed, has a potent
influence, but is not absolute.
Fabre notes a case of similar consecutive necessity in the case of the
mason bee, Chalicodoma. If while a bee is provisioning its nest with
honey and pollen the structure be destroyed, she sometimes breaks
open a completed cell, and, having done so, goes on bringing more
provision, though the cell already contains a sufficient store of food;
and only when she has completed the superfluous storing does she
deposit her egg and seal up the cell. So, too, when the cell is
removed in an early stage of construction, and another completed
cell already partially stored is substituted, the bee, instead of simply
adopting the new cell, goes on building until the cell is as much as
one-third beyond the usual height; then, and not till then, does she
proceed in due course to the next stage of the instinctive procedure,
the provisioning of the cell.
From our general knowledge of animal nature, we should expect to
find parasitic forms ready to take advantage of the material stored
by such insects as the solitary wasps and the mason bees. It is said
that Chalicodoma provides nourishment to the larvæ of some sixteen
unbidden guests. A parasitic bee (Stelis nasuta) breaks open a
closed cell, and, after depositing its eggs, seals it up again with
mortar. Since her eggs and larvæ develop more rapidly than those of
the mason bee, they are first served with the store of provision,
while the rightful owner is done out of its inheritance. By a curious
act, of what appears to us like retributive justice, these parasitic
larvæ sometimes fall a prey to another parasite, also a
hymenopterous insect named Monodontomerus, the larvæ of which
prey on the young of both bees. Another genus of the same family,
Leucopsis (Fig. 13, f), also succeeds in piercing with its ovipositor, at
a suitable spot, the walls of the Chalicodoma cell, and suspends its
curious hooked egg (Fig. 13, g) on the delicate cocoon within which
the chrysalis lies. Fabre found in some cases as many as five of
these parasitic eggs on a single cocoon. But he never found more
than one larva in any cell that he examined. The following is an
epitome of his conclusions and inferences. From the parasitic egg is
hatched a minute arched grub, with relatively large head and
mandibles, and provided with a number of bristles, which aid it in
progression (Fig. 13, h). It does not, however, at once attack the bee
larva, but makes a series of excursions, the object of which is to
reach and destroy any other parasitic eggs. This was not actually
observed, but the eggs were found to have been destroyed, and
there was seemingly no other means of destruction under the
conditions maintained. The larva, this done, changes its skin and
takes on a new form, destitute of bristles, with a very small head
and minute mandibles (Fig. 13, i). In this new form it attacks the
Chalicodoma larva, making a very small incision, through which the
juices of the host are transferred to the guest without further injury
to the grub. It is interesting to note that, if the facts are accurately
described and the inferences are correct, there are associated with
two types of instinctive behaviour two distinct types of structure.
The creature can have no conscious control over its structural
development, and there is no ground for assuming that it has any
control over its instinctive behaviour.
 Fig. 13.—Insect Larvæ. a, b, of Sitaris; c, d,
e, of Argyromœba; g, h, i, of Leucopsis; f,
imago of Leucopsis (after Fabre).
The specialization of structure and of instinctive behaviour, in
accordance with a definite sequence of life-conditions, is even more
remarkable in another of the many parasites which Chalicodoma
unwittingly labours to nourish. This time it is a fly (Argyromœba),
which lays a minute egg on the outside of the cell. From this egg is
hatched a slender threadlike worm, barely one-twentieth of an inch
in length (Fig. 13, c). It has three pairs of longish bristles near the
anterior end, and a single yet longer pair at the hinder extremity.
These aid it in creeping over the wall of the cell. Its small head is
armed with short, stiff bristles. For many days it wanders over the
surface of the cell, inserting its bristly head into each minute cranny
and crack. Throughout this long period it has never a bite nor sup.
Probably many of them never succeed in finding a crevice by which
they can effect an entrance, but those that do manage to wriggle in
undergo a change, lose their bristles, and develop a minute suctorial
mouth, through which the contents of the larva are absorbed into
their swelling bodies (Fig. 13, d). When fully grown they are quite
helpless, and unable to get out from the cell in which they are now
imprisoned. For months they lie quiescent, but in the succeeding
spring they pass into a pupal condition very different from that of
most flies. The relatively large head is armed with strong spines; the
middle region bears bristles directed backwards; the posterior end
has short spines (Fig. 13, e). Fixing itself to the interior of the cell by
the latter, it strikes with its armoured head repeated blows on the
walls of its prison until a breach is at last made, and sufficiently
enlarged to form a suitable exit. Then the pupa-skin bursts, and the
imago insect emerges and flies off. At each stage of life there is the
closest relation between structure and behaviour, and each is equally
adapted to a biological end of which the creature has never had an
opportunity of gaining any experience.
Exceedingly multifarious are the ways in which insects thus provide
for the future of young they will never see. Antherophagus lives in
flowers, and is believed to seize with its mandibles humble bees,
which then unwittingly bear the parasitic beetle to the nests in which
alone the larvæ have been found. The larvæ of our common oil-
beetle (Meloë) are parasitic on the bee, Anthophora. It deposits its
ten thousand eggs without observable discrimination; but the active
young larva instinctively seizes and attaches itself to any hairy
object. Thousands must go astray. They have been found on hairy
beetles, flies, and bees of the wrong genus. Some, however, become
thus attached to the one suitable species, and are conveyed by the
Anthophora to her nest, where they promptly eat the egg she lays.
It is not difficult to picture to one’s self how this incompletely
evolved instinct might be further perfected by natural selection,
through the survival of those females which laid their eggs in the
haunts of the bee-host. And such an advance in instinctive behaviour
is seen in another and rarer beetle—Sitaris. Her eggs are laid in
August near the entrance to a nest of the Anthophora. In September
they hatch to form larvæ, which hibernate in groups till the following
spring. Then they become active (Fig. 13, a), and attach themselves
to hairy objects. Being near the Anthophora nest, there is an
increased chance of their fastening upon this bee. The chance is still
far from good, for if this were so, we should not find that the Sitaris
laid as many as two thousand eggs. Still, on these grounds, we may
presume that its chance of survival is about five times as good as
that of Meloë, which lays ten thousand eggs. The larva is said
generally to attach itself to a male bee, which is hatched earlier than
his mate, and to pass on to the female at the nuptial period; but in
any case it eventually slips on to the egg that she lays. This forms
the food of the larva during the remainder of this stage of its
existence. It then moults and assumes a new form, capable of
feeding on the honey (Fig. 13, b); and, after further changes,
becomes a pupa, and then assumes the imago condition.
In these cases the advantage is wholly on the side of the parasite.
But there are cases of close relationship between insects and
flowering plants where the instinctive behaviour gives rise to
reciprocal benefit. The Yucca is a genus of American Liliaceous
plants, with large pale sweet-smelling flowers; and these are
dependent for fertilization on the instinctive behaviour of a small
straw-coloured moth of the genus Pronuba. Just when the Yucca
plant blossoms in the summer, the moths emerge from their
chrysalis cases. They mate; and the female then flies to a flower,
collects a pellet of pollen from the anthers, proceeds to another
flower, pierces the pistil with her sharp ovipositor, lays her eggs
among the ovules, and finally darting to the stigma stuffs the pollen
pellet into its funnel-shaped extremity (Fig. 14). If the flower be not
thus fertilized the ovules do not develop; and if the ovules do not
develop the grubs which are hatched from the moth’s eggs die of
starvation. There are enough ovules to supply food to the grubs, and
leave a balance to continue the race of Yuccas.

Fig. 14.—Yucca Flower and Moth.

Whether the female moth is attracted to the flower by sight or smell,
we do not know. And whether the male finds the female, in the case
of the Yucca moth, through scent, we are not in a position to state
with certainty. It has, however, been shown that in certain moths[33]
some odour emitted by the female is the attractive stimulus,
affecting sense-organs situated on the antennæ of the male. To
females confined in an opaque vessel over the mouth of which
gauze was tied, the males came in numbers; but when a clear glass
vessel was inverted, and sand was packed round the mouth, so as to
prevent the escape of air from the interior, no males came, though
the imprisoned females were clearly visible. If the antennæ of the
males were either removed or coated with shellac the moths failed
to notice the females even when close to them. In what way the
intact male is made aware of the direction from which the scent
comes, we do not know—possibly by differential stimulation in the
antennæ, the moth instinctively turning in the direction of greater
stimulation. It will be seen, therefore, that in the case of the
behaviour of the Yucca moth—behaviour which is essential to the
biological end of reproduction—there is much detail concerning
which we are ignorant. But for our present purpose the important
point to notice is that the procedure of the female cannot be due to
imitation; nor can it be the outcome of individually acquired
experience; for the method of procedure is not gradually learnt, but
is carried out without apparent hesitation the first and only time the
appropriate occasion presents itself. Not only does the moth take no
heed of her grubs, but they are so placed that she could not in any
case ascertain by observation that only if the ovules are fertilized do
her offspring thrive. She cannot possibly know what effect the
stuffing of the pollen on to the stigma exercises, or indeed whether
it have any effect at all. And yet generation after generation these
moths collect the pollen from the anthers and bear it to the stigma.
Spence’s words “without knowledge of the end in view” are amply
justified in this case, as in other cases of typically instinctive
behaviour.

III.—The Instinctive Behaviour of Young Birds

Since it is easy to hatch birds of many species in an incubator, and to
rear them under conditions which not only afford facilities for
observation but exclude parental influence, their study has special
advantages. One can with some approach to accuracy distinguish
the instinctive from the acquired factors in their behaviour.[34]

Fig. 15.—Newly-hatched Chick swimming.

The callow young of such birds as pigeons, jays, and thrushes are
hatched in a helpless condition, and require constant and assiduous
ministration to their elementary organic needs. Most of their instincts
are of the deferred type. But pheasants, plovers, moor-hens,
domestic chicks, and ducklings, with many others, are active soon
after birth, and exhibit powers of complex co-ordination, with little or
no practice of the necessary limb-movements. They walk and
balance the body so soon and so well as to show us that this mode
of procedure is congenital, and has not to be gradually acquired
through the guidance of experience. Young water-birds swim with
neat and orderly strokes the very first time they are gently placed in
water. Even little chicks a day or two old can swim well. Dr.
Thorndike, who draws attention to this fact,[35] appears to accept
the view, suggested by Dr. Bashford Dean, that the movements are
not those of swimming but only of running. I have carefully watched
the action through the glass walls of a tank and compared it with
that of a young moor-hen. In the two cases it is quite similar in type,
and the type appears to be different from that of running, though it
is perhaps hard to distinguish the two. In any case, the hand over
hand action is well co-ordinated, and is very different from a mere
excited struggle. Chicks twenty-six hours old taken straight from the
incubator drawer, before they had taken food, made directly for the
side of the tank and tried to scramble out. They gradually sank
deeper through the wetting of the down, but could keep afloat for
from two to three minutes. I have made observations on chicks of
various ages from twenty-four hours to a month, and find in all
cases similar results; but with the older birds the flapping of the
wings and more vigorous action cause them to get water-logged
more rapidly. There is some apparent distress with cries; but less
than one might expect under the circumstances. For the purposes of
the above illustration Mr. Charles Whymper had before him a sketch
I made of the leg-action, and instantaneous photographs of the
chicks swimming for which I am indebted to my colleague Mr.
George Brebner. I have not observed the behaviour of an adult hen
when placed in the water. Dr. Thorndike says, “there is no vigorous
instinct to strike out toward the shore,” she “will float about
aimlessly for awhile and only very slowly reach the shore.” But Mrs.
Foster Wood informs me that she has seen a hen leap into a pond
after her brood of ducklings and swim to the other side, a distance
of twenty feet.
Diving, in water-birds, is also an instinctive mode of behaviour; and
this is obviously a more difficult procedure than swimming, one
further removed from reflex action. And careful observations have
placed beyond question the fact that flight is also instinctive. A
swallow, for example, taken from the nest under conditions which
made it practically certain that it had never yet taken wing, exhibited
guided flight, and attempted to alight on a suitable ledge. Of course
flight is generally a deferred instinct, and is not performed until the
wings have reached a suitable state of development. An instinctive
response, which may perhaps be regarded as one of its initial
stages, is seen in quite young chicks. If placed in a basket, and
rapidly lowered therein through a foot or two, the chick will extend
its skinny and scarcely feathered wings. But though, from the usual
conditions of development, flight in birds is a deferred instinct, yet in
exceptional cases it may be connate. The mound-builders
(Megapodes) of the Australian region are hatched from large eggs in
warm earth or sand, and are not tended by the parents. So well
fledged are these birds that they can fly the day they emerge from
the egg. Dr. Worcester, while digging in one of their mounds, made
an unsuccessful attempt to seize one which was newly hatched; but
it flew several rods into thick brush, and this notwithstanding the
fact that it had probably never before seen the light of day.
 Fig. 16.—Nestling Megapode, to show the well-
developed wings. (From Dr. R. Bowdler Sharpe’s
“Wonders of the Bird World.”)
It must not be supposed that, in adducing flight as an example of
instinctive behaviour in birds, we are contending that it is this and
nothing more throughout life. The inference to be drawn from the
facts of observation is rather that instinct provides a general ground
plan of behaviour which intelligent acquisition, by enforcing here and
checking there, perfects and guides to finer issues. Few would
contend that the consummate skill evinced in fully developed flight
at its best, the hurtling swoop of the falcon, the hovering of the
kestrel, the wheeling of swifts in the summer air, the rapid dart and
sudden poise of the humming bird, the easy sweep of the sea-gull,
the downward glide of the stork—that these are, in all their exquisite
perfection, instinctive. A rough but sufficient outline of action is
hereditary; but the manifold graces and delicacies of perfected flight
are due to intelligent skill begotten of practice and experience.
There are many little idiosyncracies and special traits of flight which
are probably instinctive—such as enable an ornithologist or a
sportsman to recognize a flying bird from a distance. And the same
is true of other modes of behaviour. The observer of young birds
cannot fail to note and to be impressed by many of these. The way
in which a little moor-hen uses its wings in scrambling up any rough
surface is very characteristic; so, too, is the manner in which a
guinea-chick runs backwards and then sideways at a right angle
when one attempts to catch him. If suddenly startled, moor-hens
and chicks scatter and hide; plovers drop and crouch with their chins
on the ground; pheasants stand motionless and silent. Knowledge of
the ways of birds enables one to predict with tolerable accuracy how
each kind will behave under given circumstances. That the actions
are always precisely alike cannot be said with truth; but that the
behaviour is so relatively definite as to be readily recognizable can
be confidently asserted. That a moor-hen will flick its tail, that a
chick will dust itself in the sand, that pheasants and partridges will
scratch the ground, that a jay will go through certain actions in the
bath, that the preening of the down will be carried out in particular
ways—moor-hens, for example, wringing out the water in a peculiar
manner,—and that all these, and many other modes of behaviour,
will be presented in relatively definite ways: all these are, to borrow
a phrase of Dr. Peckham’s, so characteristic of the several groups of
birds, that they would be an important part of any definition based
upon behaviour. And there can be no question that they are
instinctive. They may indeed seem trivial and commonplace, scarcely
Welcome to our website – the perfect destination for book lovers and
knowledge seekers. We believe that every book holds a new world,
offering opportunities for learning, discovery, and personal growth.
That’s why we are dedicated to bringing you a diverse collection of
books, ranging from classic literature and specialized publications to
self-development guides and children's books.

More than just a book-buying platform, we strive to be a bridge

connecting you with timeless cultural and intellectual values. With an
elegant, user-friendly interface and a smart search system, you can
quickly find the books that best suit your interests. Additionally,
our special promotions and home delivery services help you save time
and fully enjoy the joy of reading.

Join us on a journey of knowledge exploration, passion nurturing, and

personal growth every day!

ebookbell.com