WHAT IS MAN? AND OTHER ESSAYS OF MARK TWAIN

hospitalities. He comes again by and by, and the house is

vacant. He infers that his host has moved. A while afterward,

in another town, he sees the man enter a house; he infers that

that is the new home, and follows to inquire. Here, now, is the

experience of a gull, as related by a naturalist. The scene is a

Scotch fishing village where the gulls were kindly treated. This

particular gull visited a cottage; was fed; came next day and was

fed again; came into the house, next time, and ate with the

family; kept on doing this almost daily, thereafter. But, once

the gull was away on a journey for a few days, and when it

returned the house was vacant. Its friends had removed to a

village three miles distant. Several months later it saw the

head of the family on the street there, followed him home,

entered the house without excuse or apology, and became a daily

guest again. Gulls do not rank high mentally, but this one had

memory and the reasoning faculty, you see, and applied them

Edisonially.

Y.M. Yet it was not an Edison and couldn’t be developed into one.

O.M. Perhaps not. Could you?

Y.M. That is neither here nor there. Go on.

O.M. If Edison were in trouble and a stranger helped him

out of it and next day he got into the same difficulty again, he

would infer the wise thing to do in case he knew the stranger’s

address. Here is a case of a bird and a stranger as related by a

naturalist. An Englishman saw a bird flying around about his

dog’s head, down in the grounds, and uttering cries of distress.

He went there to see about it. The dog had a young bird in his

mouth–unhurt. The gentleman rescued it and put it on a bush and

brought the dog away. Early the next morning the mother bird

came for the gentleman, who was sitting on his veranda, and by

its maneuvers persuaded him to follow it to a distant part of the

grounds–flying a little way in front of him and waiting for him

to catch up, and so on; and keeping to the winding path, too,

instead of flying the near way across lots. The distance covered

was four hundred yards. The same dog was the culprit; he had the

young bird again, and once more he had to give it up. Now the

mother bird had reasoned it all out: since the stranger had

helped her once, she inferred that he would do it again; she knew

where to find him, and she went upon her errand with confidence.

Her mental processes were what Edison’s would have been. She put

this and that together–and that is all that thought IS–and out

of them built her logical arrangement of inferences. Edison

couldn’t have done it any better himself.

Y.M. Do you believe that many of the dumb animals can think?

O.M. Yes–the elephant, the monkey, the horse, the dog, the

parrot, the macaw, the mocking-bird, and many others. The

elephant whose mate fell into a pit, and who dumped dirt and

rubbish into the pit till bottom was raised high enough to enable

the captive to step out, was equipped with the reasoning quality.

I conceive that all animals that can learn things through

teaching and drilling have to know how to observe, and put this

and that together and draw an inference–the process of thinking.

Could you teach an idiot of manuals of arms, and to advance,

retreat, and go through complex field maneuvers at the word of

command?

Y.M. Not if he were a thorough idiot.

O.M. Well, canary-birds can learn all that; dogs and elephants

learn all sorts of wonderful things. They must surely be able

to notice, and to put things together, and say to themselves,

“I get the idea, now: when I do so and so, as per order,

I am praised and fed; when I do differently I am punished.”

Fleas can be taught nearly anything that a Congressman can.

Y.M. Granting, then, that dumb animals are able to think

upon a low plane, is there any that can think upon a high one?