p. 1 | DO BEASTS HAVE IMMORTAL SOULS?

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Feb 10, 1876

DO BEASTS HAVE IMMORTAL SOULS?

By Dudley Marvin Canright

BY ELD. D. M. CANRIGHT.

The advocates of the immortality of the soul rely largely for their proof of this doctrine upon man's ability to think and reason. They claim that matter cannot think, cannot reason, and hence there must be an immaterial, immortal principle which does think. To this we object. That the lower animals also think and reason as truly as do men, we think the following illustrative anecdotes sufficiently prove; and hence if the argument proves men to be immortal, it proves the same for animals, for worms, and even for insects.

Our opponents generally stoutly deny this, and claim that animals do not reason—that they simply have instinct. But when they take this position, they deny the plainest and most conclusive facts of everyday life. Rev. J. G. Wood has lately written a book entitled, “Man and Beast,” in which he endeavors to prove that the animals not only do think and reason, have a conscience, affection, etc., but that they will all live hereafter, the same as men. While we seriously doubt his conclusion, we believe that his premises are correct; namely, that the lower animals do possess reason, judgment, and even conscience, as well as men, although, of course, in a very low degree. Mr. Wood has given some three hundred well-authenticated anecdotes illustrating his subject. Many of them are very remarkable. Thinking that the readers of the REVIEW will be interested in these, I herewith give a number of them. Relative to the reasoning power of the beasts, the author says:—

“There is much vagueness of idea on this point, the general tendency being to confound reason and instinct together, and to wonder when one ends and the other begins. For example, there are hundreds of anecdotes, too familiar for quotation or even mention, which are described as wonderful examples of instinct, whereas every one of them is a proof of reason, and has nothing to do with instinct.”

“The well-known and perfectly correct definition of instinct is this: ‘A certain power or disposition of mind by which, independent of all instruction or experience, animals are directed unerringly to do spontaneously whatever is necessary for the preservation of the individual or the continuation of the species.’”

As showing that the dog can reason, he says:—

“For example, I have a letter before me in which is an account of a dog who had been sent into the water after a wooden rail about eight feet long and several inches wide. The animal took it by the middle, and swam with it to the only place where a landing was practicable; but, finding that there was not sufficient space for the long rail, he swam out again, turned the rail around, took one end in his mouth, and so brought it ashore. Presently his master threw the rail into the water again, and this time the dog took it by the end at once in order to bring it in, never seizing it by the middle after his first failure.”

“A little Scotch terrier, named ‘Pepper,’ one of our former pets, was, like most of his relatives, a capital fellow for hunting a rat, a cat, or a mouse. He was our companion when calling on an old lady, where I thought we could take him without any fear of his hunting propensity causing annoyance, as I knew she had no living pet of any description. We had scarcely entered the spacious drawing-room, when, from underneath an Indian cabinet at the extreme end of the room, our dog Pepper saw two large, glassy, yellow eyes, glaring at him with more than natural ferocity. Without waiting to use his power of scent, he rushed fiercely on his imagined foe, which fell lifeless at his feet, Pepper retreating to our side, hanging down his tail, and looking more like the vanquished than the victor.”

“Do any of my readers remember those now unmade cats of pasteboard and black velvet texture, those now non-existent ornaments of former days? Such was Pepper’s foe. Dogs know well enough when they are the objects of ridicule, and, finding we were all laughing at his discomfiture, he returned to the velvet pussy, and in playful mood carried her around the room, evidently wishing to hide his mistake by convincing us that it had only been a sham fight from the beginning.”

“The action of the dog here is very human, and it behaved just as a clever child might be expected to do when it had been deceived, and was afraid of ridicule.”

“I know several instances where domestic animals have discovered that there was something wrong in the arrangements of the house, and have called attention to it. There is a little dog belonging to one of my friends, who one night became very importunate, pulling the skirt of his mistress’ dress, and insisting on her returning downstairs. She was rather alarmed; but the dog drew her to the green-house door, which he evidently meant to be opened. On unlocking the door, she found that she had forgotten to turn off the gas. The little dog had been accustomed to see the gas turned off before the family went to bed, and was too conservative to allow any change.”

“Some years ago there was a dog at Margate which knew the use of money. He used to beg for pence, and take them to a baker to be exchanged for biscuits at a shop in the narrow, hilly lane, which is pleased to assume the title of High Street. One day the baker, wishing to see how the dog would behave if he played the animal a practical joke, took his penny and gave him a burned biscuit. The next time the dog had a penny, he took it to the baker as usual, showed it to him, and then went off to another baker who lived nearly opposite. This he afterward did invariably, showing the penny to the baker who had offended him, and then transferring his custom to the rival on the opposite side of the narrow street.”

“The whole of these proceedings were dictated by pure reason, and instinct had nothing to do with them. It was, in fact, doing on a small scale precisely what the dog’s master would have done on a large scale if a tradesman had taken his money and given him a bad article for it. He would have withdrawn his custom from the offender, and given it to another man who he thought would serve him more honestly.”

“No one can say that instinct had anything to do with these proceedings, the dog in each case deducing a conclusion from premises, and deducing them rightly. Had a child acted in the same manner, we should have thought it a very clever child; but we certainly should have attributed its action to reason, and not to instinct, and I do not see that we have any right to attribute reason to the one and to deny it to the other.”

“Another dog, a little Maltese poodle, named ‘Pop,’ was unusually full of tricks and oddities. He was fond of a game at hide and seek, a key being hidden for him, while he buried his face in the sofa-cushions. Sometimes he would be guilty of cheating, and would slyly peep out to see where the key was being hidden; but when reproached with the two simple words, ‘Oh, Pop!’ he would put down his head again, and be very much ashamed of himself.”

“On one occasion, when the Teviot and the Tweed were in flood, a little dog ventured incautiously into the Tweed, and was rapidly carried down the stream, struggling and yelping as it was hurried along.”

“It so happened that the miller’s dog, while carrying his master’s breakfast to him, saw the little dog in distress. He immediately put down his burden, turned, and set off at full gallop down the stream. When he had got well below the drowning dog, he sprang into the river, swam across, and so exactly had he calculated the rapidity of the river and his own speed that he intercepted the little dog as it was being helplessly swept down the current, and brought it safely to land.”

“When he got his burden safely on shore, the dog, instead of displaying the least affection for it, cuffed it first with one paw and then with the other, and returned to the spot where he had deposited his master’s breakfast, and carried it to him as usual.”

“How is it possible to refer the proceedings of this animal to mere instinct? Had a negro slave performed them, we should have used them (and with perfect justice) as arguments that so intellectual and trustworthy a man ought not to be the property of an irresponsible master.”

“A correspondent of Land and Water gives an interesting account of a proceeding on the part of two long-horned cows. The door of the hay-chamber opened outward, and was fastened by a latch lifted by the finger thrust through a hole in the door. The cows had seen this done, and, if left alone, would invariably open the door by inserting the tip of a horn into the finger-hole, lifting the latch, and then drawing the door toward them. He also describes the mode in which a cat opened a kitchen door, by jumping up and hanging on the handle of the latch.”

“The same correspondent mentions a horse which was accustomed to pump water for himself. The pump was in a corner of the horse-box in which the horse was shut for the night, and the coachman used to be puzzled at the fact that when he came in the morning the end of the stable was always an inch or so deep in water. At last he suspected that the horse might have been the delinquent, and so fastened him up without giving him any water, and watched him, unobserved, when let loose in the morning. The animal went at once to the pump, took the handle in his teeth, worked it up and down, and, when the water was in full flow, placed his mouth under the spout to drink. He could not endure being watched while pumping, and, if he saw any one observing him, would rush at him with open mouth in order to scare him away.”

“A mule, which belonged to a convent, was greatly averse to work. There were six mules, each being worked one day of the week in regular order. This mule knew its own day perfectly well, and on that morning it always tried to keep the servants out of the yard by backing against the door.”

“The following account of a horse was sent to me by a clergyman:—

“I had long entertained the idea of sending you a brief account of an instance of reason which occurred to my own knowledge, and, indeed, at our own door.”

“A neighbor possessed a young foal, which, with his mother, used to pass our house daily, early in the morning, during our breakfast-time, and had a habit of straying upon a piece of waste ground which then occupied its front, but has since been enclosed and formed into a front garden. My daughter, who is extremely partial to horses, used to run out and offer the little animal a piece of bread.”

“This went on regularly, until at last, when he was between two and three years old, he would not wait for the bread, but used to go to the door, plant his fore feet on the steps, so as to gain sufficient elevation, and then lift the knocker with his nose, afterward waiting for the expected morsel.”

“Here we have the two qualities of memory and reasoning displayed in a most unmistakable manner. Indeed, if we suppose that a dumb man had acted as the horse did, we should have been disposed to marvel at the way in which human reason could communicate ideas without the aid of speech. In this case, the memory of the animal enabled him to expect his daily dole of bread, and his reason—not his instinct—taught him that when the knocker was sounded some one came to the door. It is evident that the horse had seen the knocker used, had noted the result, and had followed the example, using, of course, his nose in lieu of a hand.”

“Mr. J. Nelson Smith tells me that, while examining one of the American mines, he saw a horse which was doing his work without the assistance of any driver. As soon as his cart was filled with ore, one of the miners gave his signal, and the animal went off to the spot where his load was to be ‘dumped,’ waited until the cart was unloaded, and then returned for another load. The strangest point in his conduct was that he had to take a certain number of loads daily, and knew when his task was finished as well as did any of the men. Mr. Smith happened to be present at the time when he deposited his last load for the day, and, on seeing him trot off quickly in another direction, was told that he knew his work to be finished, and that he was going home, where he would meet a kind reception from his mistress.”

“In places where pheasants are preserved, it is customary to give them their food in such a way that other birds cannot get at it. This is done by placing it in a feeding-box, which is closed by a lid, communicating by a lever with a perch. The weight of the lid is so adjusted that when a pheasant stands on the perch the lid is raised, and the bird can get at the food. The pheasants soon learn the object of the perch, for, when these boxes are first introduced, a few beans are laid on the outside of the lid. The bird gets on the perch in order to reach them, and so exposes the stores of food in the box.”

“Such an arrangement is made at Mountquharry, Cupar, Fife; and one day a gentleman was watching the pheasants and their boxes on the lawn just before the house, and saw a crow also watching them. Presently the crow flew to one of the boxes, settled upon the perch, and expected the box to open. The bird, however, being much lighter than a pheasant, was unable to lift the lid in spite of all its efforts. After several ineffectual attempts, it flew off to a tree where there was another crow, and a grand jabbering ensued. The two crows then flew to the feeding-box, both settled on the perch, and their united weight was sufficient to raise the lid.”

“It is impossible to attribute this proceeding to anything but reason. Instinct is wholly out of the question in such a case as this. The bird first watches the pheasants, and learns that by settling on a certain perch the box is opened and the contents attainable. It then proceeds to follow the example of the pheasants, judging that the same result would follow. Finding that, although it acted exactly as did the pheasants, the lid was not raised, it set itself to discover the cause of failure, and, as we have seen, succeeded in so doing. Having reflected that the pheasant could lift the lid on account of its superior weight, the bird calculated that two crows might be equal in weight to one pheasant. So it goes off to find a comrade, explains the state of things in its own bird language, and the two then co-operate in producing the desired effect. No human being could reason more correctly, or reduce its theory to action more successfully.”

“Here are some parrot anecdotes, all perfectly original:—

“A parrot, belonging to one of our servants, very soon knew us by name, and could distinguish the tread of its favorites, showing its joy by ruffling its feathers, and making an odd noise in the throat. ‘Polly’ was very tame, and was sometimes allowed to walk about the house, always announcing its arrival in a room by ‘Polly going a-walking.’ In hot weather, she enjoyed having water poured over her, and when satisfied would say, ‘That’s enough.’”

“She used to tease our large dog by whistling loudly, and calling him ‘Bran! Bran!’ on which he ran in and looked around, and on the cook coming in, Polly would say reprovingly, ‘Go back, Bran, go back!’ Out went Bran, and by and by, when the cook’s back was turned, the same scene was acted over again, until Bran grew wiser and neglected the call.”

“Polly was a very accomplished bird, and, when quite alone, could be heard going through her acquirements. She sang, ‘Cheer boys, cheer,’ very plainly, and could dance. If any stranger went into the kitchen, and no one was there, Polly called out, ‘Somebody’s wanted;’ and she has more than once startled people by saying, ‘What’s your business?’”

“We used to go in and see Polly before we went to bed, and she always said ‘Good-night’ several times, each time in a different tone of

voice. She called mamma, ‘my dear,’ until told that it was not respectful, after which she always said ‘ma’am.’ The remarks this bird made were so opposite that it really seemed at times as if it understood what was going on.”

“A rather amusing instance of reason in a dog has been narrated to me. The animal was a Newfoundland, and of a quiet disposition. There was, however, a much larger and quarrelsome dog of the same kind, who was frequently meeting ‘Lion,’ and taking every opportunity of molesting him.”

“One day the big dog met him, and evidently bent upon a fight. Whereupon Lion, knowing that he was no match for his antagonist without some aid, ran off to a neighboring manure-heap, and rolled himself over and over in it, until he was completely covered. He then went back to his enemy, challenged him, fought him, and beat him thoroughly, and after that victory, the big dog always gave Lion a wide berth.”