H. M. to H. G. A.

We are coming to the pith of the matter now. When people speak of the brain as “the instrument of the mind,” I want them to tell me whether they think the dog, and the bee, and the ape, have each a mind which puts the brain in operation: and if so, whence it came, and whither it goes. You remember Scott's dog, which somehow attacked or alarmed a certain baker; and how this dog slunk into a corner whenever his master spoke of the adventure, whatever might be the tone of voice or the artifice with which the story was introduced; and how, when the upshot was told,—“and the baker was not hurt after all,”—the dog came out of his corner, frisking and joyful, and barking merrily. Now, this creature evidently felt shame and fear, and consciousness of self, relief and joy. And, again, when the monkey puts the wig into the boiler, and hides the plum-pudding, and then gets out of reach of punishment, as soon as any one goes near the boiler,—here is an exercise of several faculties, besides the most prominent ones of imitation and consciousness of self. Will any one say that these creatures have a separate mind, which uses the brain as a manifesting instrument? If so, what is the evidence? and how do we know that these animals are not of a nature equal to man, but furnished with a smaller apparatus of brain?