heard the footsteps, which was not till the girl got to the door, she flew at the cat with a growl and worried her and finally chased her through a hedge 200 feet off.

I saw the whole of this drama enacted on two occasions-parts on several; others saw parts many times. The same caution to ascertain the coast was clear,' the same employment of one or other of the cats and the same feigned indignation and attempt by gesture to fix the theft on the cat, occurred every time.

I don't think I am wrong in concluding that Judy recognized that the cat had no right to get on the table after the food; that she was instigating breach of duty, and that she simulated anger in order to shift responsibility which her mind acknowledged.

Space and time prevent my giving many more illustrations of her character. She was an extreme type, but I have had other animals like her, who recognized duty and "moral obligation" to a greater or less extent as something expected of them by a superior, but which they performed entirely from hopes of reward or fear of punishment generally, occasionally from liking (which was not sympathy) but that form arising from the object giving pleasure or profit to the subject so 'liking.' The idea of duty, justice, ought,' in all such cases arose from selfishness. I class them as selfish-moral,' conventional-moral, fashion-moral acts of duty, or shortly as 'Judyism.'

I now proceed briefly to consider the sense of duty' or 'ought' in another of my teachers-the dog Punch. I have given details before but briefly. He wills not to injure any living thing, nor anything that shows by its shape that work has been expended upon it. The most striking instance is that I have repeatedly purposely caused him severe and long continued pain by pressing upon and even cutting the sub-cutaneous loops of the nerves without ever being able to induce him to bite me or even snap at me. In the same way, when bitten by dogs, often severely, he will not bite them. There appears to me to be here a sense of duty,' or of 'ought,' which is specifically different from all those varieties I have styled Judyism.

I ask why does he not bite?

It may be said he is afraid of you. I think that if anyone saw the relations between us they would soon dismiss this as the motive. I appreciate him too much as a valuable subject' to make the blunder of inspiring fear. I would as soon think of doing so as the electrician would think of using his most sensitive electroscope roughly. The dog and his pupil are so en rapport that if the former wants a door opened, or a thorn or insect removed, he comes to me, say I am at my desk, stands up, puts his right paw on my arm and taps my shoulder with the left repeatedly till I attend to him, when he clearly indicates what he wants, and if the want is to have thorn or insect removed he clearly indicates the surface, often to a square inch or nearer.

It may be urged that he will not hurt me because he has such trust or faith in me he thinks I would not willingly hurt him. There appears something in this at first sight, and it gains colour from the fact that when he was less than 12 months old, a gamekeeper shot at him when near, and deposited about 30 pellets of shot in his head and body, which I extracted. memory of these operations might lead him to class my pressure of the knife point as something curative.

The

But then, where does such an explanation come in, in his behaviour to my mahl stick, which he will not break under the same circumstances that cause him to crush an unshaped stick to splinters? It may be said that when bitten by another dog, he does not retaliate because he is a coward. The explanation won't do. He barks remonstratively, as he does when I hurt him when we are romping, but he won't run away. I can't get him away often, and he is frequently bitten more severely in consequence. An incident that

occurred a few days back threw some more light on the idea of 'right' in Punch's (or Monkey's) mind-he answers indifferently to both names. I was coming through the very narrow street of West Appledore when a much larger dog seized him, and bit Punch so severely about the face as to make him bleed. Punch then resisted for the first time, to my knowledge, not by biting, but by a Quaker-like defence that was most scientific. He seized the other dog firmly by the hind leg above the heel, and raised the leg so high off the ground as to throw the dog's body into unstable equilibrium. The dog stood still for some time, evidently afraid to move for fear of falling on his back and being at the mercy of his opponent. He was in no pain, for Punch was not biting but simply holding firmly. At length the attacking dog tried to get his head round to bite Punch again, but the latter frustrated this by lifting the leg higher and carrying it gradually round in the opposite direction to the dog's head, so as to preserve the original distance. At the end of about 2 minutes I was compelled to interfere, as a horse and cart were coming close. The dog slank off whilst Punch jumped vertically, bounding many times off the ground in a manner that I can only compare with the bounding of a football, barking merrily at the same time.

Hundreds of similar instances to the few I have given, convince me that this dog has in his mind a sense of duty totally different in kind from that which I have illustrated and characterized as Judyism. It is in fact "Do-as-you-would-be-done-by-ism." I have observed this species of sense of duty, of the 'ought' (or morality) in a number of animals, and I have become accustomed to call this kind Rectal sense of duty' and hence to divide 'morality' into selfish, emotional, clique, 'fashion' morality, or Judyism, and Rectal morality.

I never met with two such extreme types of the dominance of the two kinds of motive before. Most animals are actuated by the two species of sense of duty in varying ratio, many only by selfish or Fashion-morality; but some individuals appear affected little by either. These form the utterly 'immoral.' So far as my inductions from observations of animals go, the division into Rectal and conventional sense of duty' is exhaustive and inclusive. All acts that recognize an 'ought' appear to me to come under one or the other. There is a remarkable difference in the animal according to which sense of duty is predominant-which species of morality rules its life. If Rectal, the animal is trustworthy and reliable. If conventional, untrustworthy, changeable and shifty. So much for results in outward conduct. I apprehend that the results on the mind or ethical sense, of conventional morality is on the whole disintegrating. In fact I have observed this in animals, though I have not been able to pursue my observations so far as I could wish.* On the other hand, the Rectal sense of duty in animals is, in the phraseology of the philosopher, a developing force. The Rectal morality of the animal increases with time. In the phraseology of some theologians it may perhaps be termed a regenerating or saving' force. (Those who believe that a profession of a creed is the only saving force, would scarcely admit it had more value than the conventional ought,' or perhaps not as much in some cases.)

As to the origin of the Rectal sense of duty or rectal morality, so far as my observations go, the chief thing I can predicate is that it is unselfish. It seems to be closely connected with sympathy,' as distinguished from 'feeling' of the kind before defined. The individuals among the higher animals who act from the rectal sense of duty appear to be remarkable, so far as my observations go, for ability to "put-yourself-in-his-place-edness"

* Query? I take it the rectal' sense of duty is at the base of all reality of character, the conventional has more the character of an acquired mental habit.

which is at the root of true sympathy.' The tendency is always "to do as they would be done by." In most cases that I have observed it appeared to be inborn, but developed as the animal got older.

The division I have been led to, by hundreds of observations on individuals of different species, of the Idea of duty,' and consequently all morality, into Rectal and conventional (mores) I have never seen formulated. Probably other observers have made the distinction. It is tacitly recognized, however, in most of the oldest writings I know anything of. The recognition of the value of the Rectal appears to me to run through many of the books collected as the Bible, and the O. T. and N. T. Apocrypha, like a vein of gold in quartz, and to be the very protagon or 'nerve-centre stuff' of most of Christ's teaching. I have seen the distinction tacitly admitted in many theological works, tho' I think I am right in asserting (I say it as the oratorians speak, -under correction) there is a want of recognition of the fact that the chief (if not only) value of the conventional sense of duty,' or selfish ‘ought,' is to prevent friction.

Not only do animals (other than man) act upon the " ought" in their minds, but some of the more intelligent act as if they expected or believed that it existed in the minds of some men.

In August '86 I was driving Prince (my pony) and at the same time discussing an interesting point in science with my wife. I generally guided him entirely by the voice, but in the heat of the argument unthinkingly emphasized my points with the whip (which had had a new knotted lash on that day) on the pony's flanks. He stopped about the third blow and looked round. This attracted my wife's attention-Prince is remonstrating': 'You struck heavily.' Later on I must have struck him repeatedly. When he was loosed from the harness, I was standing out of his direct line to the stable-door. Instead of going to the stable, as was usual, he walked up to me, and after repeated attempts to draw my attention, touched me with his nose and then approached his nose as closely as he could to the wales. This he repeated until I had the places bathed.

About two months later, on a similar occasion, he repeated the same actions.

In autumn '86 I was in Ware with my pony. Coming out of a shop, I was on the point of stepping into the carriage when I noticed the pony (Prince) watching me. (He was accustomed to my boy jumping up when the vehicle was in motion.) I told my wife to start him. She tried repeatedly, but he would not move till he saw I was seated, when he started at once. (The experiment was repeated many times subsequently.) The strange thing is the complicated train of thought that evolved an 'ought' differing in the case of a lame man from the duty in other cases.

The same autumn, we were driving from Wearside to Hadham. On the road we met with a group of children with two perambulators. They were in awkward positions: several children being close to the left hand hedge, a perambulator and children further to right, the second further still, as in diagram: the distance between c. p1, p2 and right hedge being about equal. There was room to pass between p1 and p2 easily, but the children were confused and passed repeatedly between the two points. My wife said—

"See if Prince will avoid the children." I dropped the reins on his neck. He went on at a smart trot till 7 or 8 yards from the

children at a, when he fell into a walk, turned to the right, and passed them

with the right wheel near the hedge, turning his head more and more to see whether he was clearing the right or outer perambulator. He left it about 3 yds. in the rear, and then returned sharply to the left side of road and resumed his trot without any intimation he was to do so.

In Nov. '87, after the death of my wife, a relative came to live with me and she drove the same pony. She is so deaf, she cannot hear a vehicle overtaking her. Consequently I always went with her, and if she had the reins, signed with my left hand if a vehicle were coming up behind, for her to draw over to left.

As she was driving one day up a steep hill (therefore with slack reins) on road to Ware, I heard a brewer's cart coming behind. The man had been drinking and followed close in our wake, though there was plenty of room to pass if he had kept well to the right. I gave my relative no signal, as I wanted to observe the pony's actions. He appeared nervous and restless, turning his head as far as he could to the right to see what was wrong. The man drove the heavy cart very close behind but the pony could not see the horse or vehicle. After 3 or 4 minutes anxiety (I use the word advisedly : the working of the ears and the 'twitching' of his muscles justifies me), receiving no sign, he deliberately drew as closely as possible into the left-hand hedge and waited. As soon as the waggon passed, he went off at a brisk trot.

After many experiments on different days I found that if I were driving and a vehicle overtook us, Prince waited for me to tighten the left rein, but if my relative were driving, he decided by the sound when to draw to the left. Even if she tightened the right rein-he disobeyed the sign. After many experiments I had full confidence he would always act, if she were driving, on the evidence of his own hearing; and she often subsequently drove without me, the pony evidently recognizing his new duties.

Examples of animals (other than men) initiating co-operation in duty. [Simultaneous occurrence of the idea of duty, suggested by same circumstances.]

In the autumn of 1886, I started after 10 o'clock p.m. from my cottage at Baker's End to drive some friends homeward. On descending from the high ground, I passed into a dense fog, which the carriage lights failed to penetrate 6 feet-the fog reflected the light like a wall. Some distance

past the Mardock Station road, my road turned almost at right angles. Here we so thoroughly failed to find the turning that the horse was driven against the bank, up which he reared crashing into the hedge at the top. We all alighted and my friends went on. I turned pony and carriage and got in, to drive back: the pony moved slowly, but almost dragging the reins out of my hands. I got out thinking the reins were caught on the shaft as the pony had always shown a liking for a very tight rein down hill and our road here was a descent. I could find nothing wrong with the reins. Taking out a lamp I went to the pony's head, which he was still holding as low as he could. Then I saw his nose was nearly on the back of my black dog Jack (the father of Punch) who was standing in front with his nose near the ground, but pointing homeward. I got in; said 'Go on;' did not use the reins, but as we went at a walking-pace, tried frequently to measure with the whip handle the distances they kept from each hedge. They took me safely into the yard behind my house, and my measurements showed they kept the middle of the road the whole way; except at one place, where there is a deep gully on the right, separated from the road by a very slight fence. Here they kept within 18 inches of the left (or further side from the gully). Altho' the night was cold and the pace that of the Dead March, the horse was wet with perspiration and the dog panting with tongue out when we got into the yard, probably from the anxiety to do the duty they had undertaken. There are 6 turns in the road and three of them are right angles, narrow in all

cases, but not more than the full length of horse and carriage, in two cases I think, and my memory is pretty clear.

There was a little episode when we got into the yard, illustrating the close analogy between the feelings of these animals and human feelings under similar circumstances. The horse rubbed his head repeatedly against Jack, whilst Jack nosed' or rubbed his face against the pony's. No expression of mutual gratulation on the completion of a self-imposed duty could have been more significant.

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There is an interesting parallelism between the conclusions drawn by Mr. Jones from his observations on the motives of animals and the conclusions concerning human motives contained in Chap. IV, "The Sentiment of Justice. The distinction between "rectal-moral" and conventional-moral made by him, obviously corresponds with the distinction made in that chapter between the altruistic sentiment and the proaltruistic sentiment. This correspondence is the more noteworthy because it tends to justify the belief in a natural genesis of a developed moral sentiment in the one case as in the other. If in inferior animals the consciousness of duty may be produced by the discipline of life, then, a fortiori, it may be so produced in mankind.

Probably many readers will remark that the anecdotes Mr. Jones gives, recall the common saying "Man is the god of the dog;" and prove that the sentiment of duty developed in the dog arises out of his personal relation to his master, just as the sentiment of duty in man arises out of his relation to his maker. There is good ground for this interpretation in respect of those actions of dogs which Mr. Jones distinguishes as "conventional-moral;" but it does not hold of those which he distinguishes as "rectal-moral." Especially in the case of the dog which would not bite when bitten, but contented himself with preventing his antagonist from biting again (showing a literally-Christian feeling not shown by one Christian in a thousand) the act was not prompted by dutifulness to a superior. And this extreme case verifies the inference otherwise drawn, that the sentiment of duty was independent of the sentiment of subordination.

But even were it true that such sentiment of duty as may exist in the relatively-undeveloped minds of the higher animals, is exclusively generated by personal relation to a superior, it would not follow that in the much-more-developed minds of men, there cannot be generated a sentiment of duty which is independent of personal relation to a superior. For experience shows that, in the wider intelligence of the human being, apart from the pleasing of God as a motive, there may arise the benefiting of fellow-men as a motive; and that the sentiment of duty may come to be associated with the last as