Pussy and Her Language

IX.

ASTOUNDING REVELATIONS BY THE CAT.

Under the classification of remarkable instances of the intelligence of animals, I omitted one instance, pertinent to this story and astonishing to me, unless it may be regarded as an accident. I will give it without the least coloring of the truth. The manuscript of the preceding part of this treatise was prepared some time ago, and placed in a drawer of my desk with many other rolls of writing, the drawer being filled with them. For several successive nights I heard a peculiar noise in this drawer, but, although the sounds emitted seemed to indicate the gnawing of a mouse, I could not bring myself to the belief that such a busy little animal could gain access to the drawer, or would be able to find anything attractive to him there. However, my amanuensis, having occasion to open the drawer one day, exclaimed with surprise that the mice had been making a nest in the drawer. Upon examination we found that the paper gnawed was this article treating upon the enemy of the mouse—the Cat—while the other rolls of manuscript remained untouched. Now, whether this act was committed in a spirit of vandalism and to demonstrate the hatred of the destroyers for the subject of the story, or with a mere wanton desire to destroy my property, I cannot surmise. Certain it is, however, that they singled out this matter about the Cat, and left uninjured the other manuscript, thus demonstrating the fact, it seems to me, that the Cat story and none other was the object of their search.

It was at the time when my attention was called to the subject of the simian language that my memory recurred to an important document in my possession relating to the Cat. After a prolonged search, with a determination to rescue it from the oblivion into which I had unintentionally cast it, I, with more success than generally rewards such searches, discovered the document, and will have the pleasure of presenting it to the public, giving it a free translation from the French, in which language it is written. The history of this wonderful document is short. Some years ago I was the editor of a New York morning newspaper, and one day there chanced to call upon me at my office a French gentleman of about fifty years of age, rather short in stature, fairly well dressed, with a benevolent countenance, bright, black eyes, regular features with the exception of a prominent nose and the unmistakable stamp of a litterateur. His hands and feet were small, and he had a nervous air about him while he gesticulated in the expression of his ideas, and spoke in a mixture of French and English, just as all pure Frenchmen are accustomed to do.

He had previously sent in to me his card, which read thus:

Prof. Grimaldi, the French gentleman, presented himself to my wondering eyes as I rose to meet him, and extended his hand with a Chesterfieldian bow, exclaiming, as nearly as my memory serves:

"Jais ver happy for ze honaire of ze attention pour le editaire of one great journal."

I replied, of course, that I was proud to meet him, and asked what he desired to know, and how I could serve so great a scientist, for the reputation of this great man and his wonderful scientific researches and discoveries had reached my ears upon the wings of many foreign messages even then.

As I replied to the Professor in his native tongue, he expressed himself as being more at his ease, although he offered to converse with me in English, a language in which, he said, "he was perfectly at home, and spoke fluently," as all Frenchmen pride themselves upon being able to do after a month's practice, without taking into consideration that Webster claims words in our language to the extent of six figures. However, I considered my French much more comprehensible than his English, and the conversation was continued in that language, very much to his delight.

He informed me that he had made a life study of the animal kingdom, and that, for many years, unknown to his most intimate friends and associates in the scientific world, he had made a particular study of the Cat and its habits, while of late years he had come to the conclusion that Cats have a language all their own. To my surprise he informed me that he had demonstrated in a paper, which he drew from his pocket, the fact that upon his theories, and by a close observation of the rules set down in his manuscript upon the Cat language, the whole world might acquire it. He presented me with the document in recognition of my sympathy with him in a subject so near his heart, and expressed a hope that I might find time in the near future to examine and print his theories and the results of his investigations. The reason for his keeping the facts of his researches a secret from his most intimate friends and his scientific brethren, he remarked, was that if he had not carried the subject to a successful termination, he never could have lived through the sarcasm and taunts of these men of science, who would have overwhelmed him with abuse because of his failure.

I glanced at the title of the paper, and, after thanking him for his valuable gift, and promising to read it at some leisure hour, I bade him adieu, and resumed my duties, having placed the paper in the editorial desk.

To those who are aware of the numberless documents and the thousands of articles upon various subjects which accumulate in and about the desk of an editor, I need not explain that this paper was soon buried, so that when my memory recurred to it, a month later, the document could not be found, and I finally gave up my quest, and considered the paper last beyond recovery. Imagine my rejoicing, however, when, but a few months ago, I found it intact, and perused its contents with great surprise. I was the more rejoiced at its recovery because it verifies my own theories, and proves beyond a doubt that the Cat has a language which may be spoken by anybody who will make a study of it. What wonders this discovery will work in every community of the civilized world may better be imagined than described. The accumulated secrets of many years will be told, and crimes and misdemeanors which until now have baffled inquisitors will be unearthed, and the perpetrators punished; little peccadillos will be given to the gossipers, and even the tender passages between John and his girl in the parlor or the sitting-room, in the arbor, or upon the way through "lover's land," will become subject for tattle among gossipers.

X.

PROFESSOR GRIMALDI’S WONDERFUL DISCOVERIES.

It is scarcely necessary to recount the wonderful researches of the great Prof. Grimaldi, the great French naturalist. His name has become a household word, and his fame world-wide. When I unearthed his carefully prepared paper it was yellow with age, but his chirography was a marvel of neatness, and distinct as copper plate. I have made a literal translation of it, and will give it in his own words without emendations.

THE CAT

By Alphonse Leon Grimaldi, F.R.S., F.G.S., M.O.S., D.H. du C., M.F.A.S., M.F.A., et al.

I was born with an intense passion for animals. I am a Frenchman, therefore am I a man of strong passions. I have not married. My love is for the animal kingdom, and it has been returned to me one hundred fold all my life. In woman there is deceit, and in man deception rules his nature. If I treat an animal with kindness, I will, invariably, be overwhelmed with gratitude. The animal never bites the hand that feeds it—the human being frequently does. Therefore, I live among animals and center my affections in them. I have made my unalterable choice. I teach the gentler manners and the magnanimity, perhaps the greater intelligence of those of God's creatures who are far above their self-constituted masters, and their inexhaustible love of even the hand that smites, if it be the hand of a beneficiary. You have repeatedly noticed that a large and powerful dog can never be persuaded to attack or oppress a smaller or a feebler one. Tell me how frequently you have known a man of influence, power, riches or strength, to oppress and take advantage of a feebler or poorer one? Is it not a daily, nay, hourly occurrence? Have you ever seen a healthy animal oppress a sickly one? Never! Times without number you have been an eyewitness to the tender care and solicitude of the well for the sick animal, and as frequently you have seen the unfortunate provided with every necessary by his more fortunate comrades.

How often do you find these traits in the human being? For this, and for many other reasons with which I might tire you, I love all animals but man.

Men declare that only the biped, man, is endowed with reason. It is false. It is so declared, in order that man may possess one characteristic that will elevate him above, and distinguish him from what he chooses, falsely, to call the lower animals.

Your Noah Webster, who padded your dictionary in order to make a formidable book, like many another man, says that animals are not possessed of reasoning powers, but have only instinct. He gives the definition of instinct as follows: "INSTINCT. A certain power or disposition of mind by which, independent of all instructions or experience, without deliberation, and without having any end in view, animals are unerringly directed to do spontaneously whatever is necessary for the preservation of the individual or the continuation of the kind."

This is your American authority, and you must accept it, for you have adopted the dictionary. By this definition, and with only one question, I will prove to you that animals have reasoning powers, just as men have. Have not animals an end in view when they gather their food and build their homes for the winter months, when they rear their young, anticipate the coming of the night and of that longer night constituting the darkness of age and death, when preparing for the coming of their Master, and when, with a grand evidence of their superiority over man, they anticipate the changes of the weather?

The intelligent man admits that animals not only have minds, but that they reason also. The sooner the whole world admits this fact the sooner we will arrive at the truth in the premises, and give the feline her due as well as be just to other animals. The study of natural history unfolds to the mind a new universe of beauty, interest and profit. The beautiful book of nature is spread out in inexhaustible profusion to all creatures, and no one can claim a monopoly of this grand study. Other animals read it constantly, and seem to understand it better than man. Man has not been able, with all his knowledge of science, to make a barometer which will give as unerring calculations concerning the weather as will the animals which he considers beneath him in intelligence. I instance more particularly the wild goose, who will indicate the temperature of the season, and I will remark that there is no compass or needle which can indicate the course of a pigeon while it navigates the air equal to its own instinct. In the hydraulics of nature, the beaver stands foremost of all living creatures, and the bee is the greatest builder in the world. Do you not admit that "instinct" will no longer answer as a name for intelligence in what you call the "brute" animals? Is it without deliberation and without having an end in view that, when you take a young pigeon from the cote in which it was hatched, and carrying it in a coop to a distance of four hundred miles from its home, you free it, and it takes its flight in a bee line for the cote in which it was born? What shall that quality of mind be called?

Dogs, Cats and other animals have been carried for hundreds of miles from their homes, and but a few days elapsed before they return to the place from whence they were taken. Have they "no end in view," and is this done "without deliberation?"

There is a species of fish-hawk, in your Northern lakes, which has most remarkable eyes, microscopic as well as telescopic. You may often see this fellow, early in the morning, hovering over the placid water of some lonely lake, when he will suddenly dart off, leave the water and take up his position upon the bare limb of a blighted tree, and watch the track over which he flew. Presently you will see him leave his high perch and, with the accuracy and velocity of an arrow, strike the bosom of the lake, grasp a fish and bear it to his perch. Nature has furnished this wise bird with a bait which enables him to become a successful fisherman. He has in his throat, or oesophagus, a small sac, in which he secretes a kind of oil. This oil he drops upon the surface, the fishes are attracted to it, and at once there is a great commotion in the water. The hawk, seeing this, takes advantage of the situation, and pounces upon his prey.

It is silly in man to assume that all he sees is but the effect of law. It is more sensible to assume that there is an intelligence behind law and matter. The intelligence shown in plants cannot be denied. Take, for instance, the aquatic plants. They will travel long distances over walls and other impediments before they will stop their growth.

That animals have a moral sense is evidenced in the fact of the prominence in their natures of the attributes of reason, memory, invention, motive, ingenuity, will and gratitude. Granting these premises, and grant them you must from the proofs which I have submitted to you, and which have come under my own observation, you must admit that animals reason and think and give the same evidence of free intelligence observable in human nature.

That dogs, Cats, horses, elephants, birds and even pigs can be taught to do most wonderful things, millions of people can attest from personal observation, and you have the proof in your own minds, to show free intellectual ability on the part of wild and tame animals.

In my love for the Cat and my preference for that beautiful animal above all others, I do not stand alone. Nearly all men of note among the learned, as well as others, both in ancient and modern times, have signified their preference for the Cat in the strongest terms. Mahomet almost worshipped the Cat, and declared that his own should have a prominent place in his heaven. Richelieu possessed a house full of Cats, with twenty favorites, whom he cherished with great care and fed with his own hands. Shakespeare, Milton, Byron, Moore, Talleyrand, Edgar Allen Poe, Chateaubriand, Robert Southey, Dr. Johnson, Benjamin Franklin, Julius Caesar, Thomas Gray, Sir Isaac Newton, Sir Walter Raleigh, Cardinal Wolsey, Rousseau, Lord Chesterfield, Whittington, Lord Mayor of London, Plutarch, and thousands of others, have expressed their admiration of my favorite. Ancient history tells us of more than one nation that sainted the Cat, while others still hold the animal in high veneration. Certainly it must be admitted that the Cat possesses some wonderful attributes the evidence of which prompts its distinction. I claim for the Cat a higher order of intellect than exists in any other animal. While I love the dog, and claim for him a greater degree of intelligence than may be accorded to the horse, I class the Cat and the dog to be as distinct in their individuality and with as much difference as you see existing between man and woman. The organism of the Cat is of a very delicate nature, and, therefore, more susceptible to all influences. They are quicker of perception than any other animal, and, therefore, they more readily acquire knowledge.

By an extended series of experiments I have demonstrated this fact, and would give the results of my labor were I not positive that my readers have made a comparison of the dog and the Cat, and arrived at the same conclusion without anything more than a casual observation. In experimenting, however, my attention was directed with more particularity to the manner of communication of ideas between Cats, and what was my surprise to discover that they have a language of their own, embracing not only words but, in a large degree, signs. You may the better understand me when I call attention to the fact that there are few words, comparatively, in the French language, but there is, among Frenchmen, a sign language; as, for instance, there is no word to express the meaning of our shrug of the shoulders and the extending of the hand and forearms. Words cannot express the feelings of the heart when men and women of every nativity bow their heads before their God. Because of this predominance of signs in the language of the Cat, it will be difficult for me to describe their mode of idea-communication; but I will make the attempt, and endeavor to bring it as clearly as possible to your minds, in order that you may comprehend it as distinctly as it presents itself to mine.

XI.

SIGNS AND SOUNDS.

Language signifies the expression of ideas by sounds and by certain articulate sounds which are used as the signs or the ideas, sounds being regarded as mere aids and of secondary importance to signs, which are, primarily, of the greatest importance in language.

By articulate sounds I mean those modulations of the simple voice or of sounds emitted from the thorax, formed by means of the mouth and its several organs, namely, the teeth, the tongue and the palate. When we give a name to anything harsh or boisterous we, of course, use a harsh or boisterous sound, the better to describe our meaning. By the use of such words as express such sounds we convey the ideas intended to be expressed. It is purely natural to imitate, by the sound of the voice, the quality of the sound or noise which any external object makes, and to form its name accordingly. In every language will be found a multitude of words constructed upon this principle. We call a certain bird a cuckoo because of the peculiar sound which he emits. Regard the fact that in English one kind of bird is said to "whistle," another to "chirp," a serpent to "hiss," a fly to "buzz," a bee to "hum," falling timber to "crash," a stream to "flow," hail to "rattle," rain to "patter," a bell to "tinkle" or "jingle," or "toll," or to "clash" with another, a board to "creak," thunder to "roll," lightning to "flash" and a cataract to "roar." In these instances the analogy between the word and the thing expressed is most plainly discernible to the ear. Notice, also, if you please, that in the names of objects which address the sight only, when neither noise nor motion are concerned, and still more in the term applied to moral ideas, this analogy appears to fail. This shows a superiority of signs over sounds, and is one reason for according to signs, over sounds, a primary importance. I have noticed, however, that many learned men have been of the opinion that though in such cases the meaning becomes more obscure, yet it is not altogether lost, but that throughout the radical words of all languages there may be traced some degree of correspondence with the object signified.

Perhaps no language is so peculiar a mixture as your own, by which I mean the English, which is neither pure nor indigenous. The rule applies to other languages to a far less degree, but still it applies. As the multitude of names increases in every nation and the immense field of language is filled up—if it ever gets filled up—words by the thousands, fanciful and irregular methods of derivation and composition, come to deviate widely from the primitive character of their roots and lose all analogy or resemblance to sound in the thing signified. It is in such a heterogeneous state that we find words of sound-signs in language.

Nature taught the members of the animal kingdom to communicate their feelings, one to another, by those expressive cries and gestures which are so descriptive. Afterward, names of objects were invented by slow degrees, in aid of signs. This mode of speaking by natural signs could not be all at once applied, for language, in its infancy, must have been extremely crude, and there certainly was a period in the history of all rude nations when conversation was carried on by the use of a very few words, intermixed with a multitude of exclamations and earnest gestures significant of the meaning intended to be conveyed.

In the early days, the small stock of words which were in use, rendered signs absolutely necessary for explaining the conceptions and rude, uncultivated beings, not having signs at hand, with the few words which they knew it was naturally labor to make themselves understood by varying their tones of voice and accompanying their voices with the most significant gesticulations they could make.

The primitive search was for signs and sounds which bore an analogy to the thing signified. The pronunciation of the earliest sounds of the languages was accompanied with more gesticulations and with more and greater inflections of the voice than we now use. Certainly there was more action in it, and it was conducted upon more of a crying or a singing tone. Necessity first gave rise to this primitive yet admirable way of speaking, and it may be said of it that it was action explanatory of meaning.

Inflections of voice are so natural that to some nations it has appeared easier to express different ideas by varying the tones in which they pronounce the same word than to contrive words for all of their ideas. I instance the Chinese in particular. The number of words in their language is not great, but in speaking they vary each of their words by not less than five different tones, by which they make the same word signify five different things. This gives the appearance of singing, or music, to their speech, so noticeable in their conversation, for these inflections of voice, which, in the infancy of language, were no more than harsh or disconsonant cries, must, as language gradually becomes more polished, pass into smoother and more musical sounds. Hence is formed what is styled the prosody of language.

It is remarkable and deserves attention that both in the Greek and the Roman languages this musical and gesticulating pronunciation was retained in a very high degree. The Greeks, it is well known, were a more musical people than the Romans, and carried their attention to the tone and pronunciation much farther in every public exhibition. Aristotle, in his poetics, considers the music of tragedy one of its chief and essential parts. The case was more than parallel in regard to gestures, for strong tones and animated gestures always go together. At last gesture came to engross the stage wholly, for under the reigns of Augustus and Tiberius the favorite entertainment of the public was pantomime, carried on entirely by gesticulations.

XII.

DESCRIPTIVE LANGUAGES.

A Frenchman both varies his accents and gesticulates while he speaks much more than an Englishman, and an Italian a great deal more than either. Musical pronunciations and expressive gesture are, to this day, the distinction of Italy, and this combination of sign and its aid, sound, the latter being notes for its music, make the sweetest and most liquid language in existence. The want of a proper name for every object, obliged them to use one name for many objects, and, of course, to express themselves by comparisons, metaphors, allusions and all those substantive forms of speech which render language figurative.

Poetry is more ancient than prose, and here we have a remarkable order of speech, such as "fruit give me." I, therefore, conclude, as the first fundamental principle in the organization and procession of word-signs, that this would be the order in which words should be most commonly arranged at the beginning of language, and accordingly, we find, in fact, that in this order words are arranged in most of the ancient tongues—the Russian, Slavonic, Gaelic, and many others. In the Latin the arrangement which most commonly obtains is to place first in the sentence that word which expresses the principal object, together with its circumstance, and afterward the person or thing which acts upon it.

I desire to impress most particularly upon the reader the value of signs and sounds in the language, for he would be a fool, indeed, who would not mark the significance of a tone or a gesture.

The word-signs in the English language number thirty-eight thousands. This includes, of course, not only the radical words, but all the derivatives, except the preterites and participles of verbs, to which must be added some few terms which, though set down in your dictionary, are either obsolete or have never ceased to be considered foreign. They have been introduced into your Noah Webster, "unabridged," together with many thousands of conjunctive and scientific words, for the sole purpose of making a big book and claiming that there are one hundred thousand word-signs in the English language. Of the thirty-eight thousands about twenty-three thousands are of Anglo-Saxon origin. The majority of the remainder, in what exact proportion I cannot say, are Latin and Greek, but the largest share is Latin. The names of the greater part of the objects of sense, in other words, the terms which occur most frequently in discourse, or which recall the most vivid conceptions, in the English vocabulary, are Anglo-Saxon. The names of the most striking objects in visible nature, of the chief agencies at work and of the changes which pass over it, are Anglo-Saxon.

This language has given names to the heavenly bodies, namely, the sun, the moon and the stars, to three out of every four elements, namely, earth, fire and water; to three out of every four seasons, namely, spring, summer and winter, and, indeed, to all the natural divisions of time, except one, as day, night, morning, evening, twilight, noon, midday, midnight, sunrise, sunset, some of which are among the most poetical terms in the language.

To the same language we are indebted for the names of light, heat, cold, frost, rain, snow, hail, sleet, thunder, lightning, as well as almost all those objects which form the component parts of the beautiful and external scenery as seen in land, hill and dale, wood and stream. It is from this language you derive the word most expressive of the earliest and dearest connections and the strongest and most powerful feelings of nature, and which are, consequently, invested with your oldest and most complicated associations. In this language we find the names of father, mother, husband, wife, brother, sister, son, daughter, child, home, kindred, friends. It has furnished the greater part of those metonymies and other figurative expressions by which is represented to the imagination, and that in a single word the reciprocal duties and enjoyments of hospitality, friendship or love. Such are hearth, roof and fireside. The chief emotions of which we are susceptible, as love, hope, fear, sorrow, shame, and what is of more consequence to the orator and the poet, as well as in common life, the outward signs by which emotion is indicated, are almost all Anglo-Saxon. Such are tear, smile, blush, to laugh, to weep, to sigh, to groan.

Most of those objects about which the practical reason of man is employed in common life receive their names from the Anglo-Saxon.

XIII.

LANGUAGE OF DIVINE ORIGIN.

One of our greatest poets says,

The words buzz, crackle, crash, blow, rattle, roar, hiss, whistle, and many others of a like nature and construction, were evidently formed to imitate the sounds themselves. Sometimes the word expressing an object is formed to imitate the sound produced by that object, as waye, cuckoo, whippoorwill, whisper, hum. I have been thus particular in calling the attention of the reader to these beautiful characteristics of the Anglo-Saxon because it is the language of the Cat in so far as word-signs are used in it for want of action to express the ideas or as conjunctives more particularly. The smooth and liquid passages from your poets, which express onomatopoeia, are but echoes from that most beautiful of all languages, that of the Cat. Such are the word-signs of Goldsmith,

To the credit of the Cat language it must be said that, while it is esteemed a great beauty in writing and conversation, as well as speaking, when the word-signs selected for the expression of an idea convey, by their sound, some resemblance to the subject which they express, the Cat language contains none but such words. You will remember the most wonderful poem written in the English language, and notice the word-painting in the following extract from "Gray's Elegy in a Country Churchyard,"

Pope, also, in his "Essay on Criticism," in a manner though different yet scarcely less expressive, gives a verbal representation of his idea, by the selection of his terms in the following:

And, once again, Pope says,

I am of the opinion that language is of Divine origin, and that it was put into the mouth of the Cat, the same as it was put into the mouth of Adam, by the Almighty. In this opinion I am encouraged by many of your most prominent writers. In fact, it is the only sensible theory upon which we can stand. But the very first expression of a desire was a sign by action of the muscles, frequently followed by a sound-sign. This has often been demonstrated when infants have been placed, for a year or more, in a room where no speech or expressive action has met either eye or ear, and it has not yet been doubted. Many men have written upon the subject of the origin of language, from every point of view, the majority of these endeavoring to account for its existence without allowing that it is of Divine origin. Undoubtedly the first man, Adam, could talk as naturally as he could hear, see and taste. Speech was a part of his endowment. Is there anything more wonderful in man's talking than in a bird singing, save that speech is a higher order of utterance? Dumb nature, so called, performs marvels every day as wonderful as man talking. The honey bee builds its cell, ignorant of the fact that such a construction is a solution of a problem which had troubled men for centuries to solve—namely, at what point should certain lines meet so as to give the most room with the least material and have the greatest strength in building? This problem is said to have been worked out by a Mr. McLaughlin, a noted Scotch mathematician, who arrived at his conclusion by a laborious and careful fluctionary calculation. To his surprise and the surprise of the whole world, such lines and such a building were found in the common bee cell. Is there anything preposterous in my assertion that the same Creator who gave to the bee the mathematical instinct, could endow animals with the instinct of speech? In proportion as the English language has clung to the purest of Anglo-Saxon words it has gained strength throughout the world, while there have gone down before it the real British, the Cymeric or Welsh, Erse or Irish, the Gaelic of Scotland, and the Manx of the Isle of Man. The British Keltic is entirely gone, and the rest are only local. Besides these, it ousted from the island of Norse the Norman French and several other tongues which had sought to plant themselves on English soil.

My illustrious comrade, Prevost Paradol, one of our most learned Frenchmen, says: "Neither Russia nor united Germany, supposing that they should attain the highest fortune, can pretend to impede that current of things, nor prevent that solution, relatively near at hand, of the long rivalry of European races for the ultimate colonization and domination of the universe. The world will not be Russian, nor German, nor French, alas! nor Spanish. It will be Anglo-Saxon."

It was one of Britain's greatest poets who wrote the following characteristic lines expressive of the force of languages:

It is a noticeable fact that there have been five hundred distinct languages, and about three thousand five hundred colloquials, or about five thousand different forms of speech since Adam's time. At the present time five hundred of the primary are dead, so that there are about nine hundred now spoken on all the earth, with about two thousand five hundred colloquials.

Canon Farrar says: "We may, therefore, assert, as Dante did, more than five centuries ago,

I am surprised at some of the heedlessness of your philologists, and do not wonder that your children have a hard time of it acquiring your language when they are so carelessly misdirected in many instances, misled in many more and given rules which even the fully developed mind of a man is unable to comprehend. It is not from one alone of your linguists that I take this definition of the word "language." "Language is the expression of our ideas by articulate sounds, such as the signs of the ideas." Your Noah Webster, who gathered together all dictionaries extant, including all scientific words and definitions, and dumped them into his big book, gives the definition of the word "language" as follows: "The expression of ideas by words or significant articulate sounds for the communication of thought."

Now, if these definitions are correct, and you choose to accept them as being so, what becomes of the "language" of the deaf and dumb?

XIV.

POWER OF SPEECH IN THE FELINE.

It is not true that all animals have vocal chords. Some are marsupial, such as the kangaroo, and have membranous vocal chords, which stretch upon themselves and so cannot be stretched by the arytenoid muscles. A few of them are mammalia, such as the giraffe, the porcupine, and the armadillo, have no vocal chords, and are, therefore, mute. This is also the case with the cetacea, the loud bellowing of the whale being produced by the expulsion of water through the nostrils during the act of expiration. Serpents have no vocal chords, and their hiss is the result of breathing forcibly down through a soft glottis. Frogs have no trachea, so that their larynx opens into the bronchial tube, but the loudness of the croaking of male frogs is due to the distension of two membranous sacs at the side of the neck. Some frogs have membranous vocal chords, others two reed-like bodies, the anterior ends of which are fixed, while the posterior ends with the ventricles of the larynx and the laryngo-pharyngeal sacs looking into the bronchi are free.

The vocal organs of both man and the other animals present a general resemblance to each other, despite varying degrees of development. Cats have a sac between the thyroid cartilage and the os hyoideum, which have much to do with the modifying and increasing of the tones of the voice. The laryngeal sacs are small, and thus prevent what might be a shrill cry, such as the deafening shrieks of the monkeys of Africa. The epiglottis is comparatively small, and there are proportionately small cavities in the thyroid cartilage and the os hyoideum, which communicate with the ventricles of the larynx and the laryngeal-pharyngeal sacs, which give the peculiar softness of musical tone to the feline, as may be noted by a merely casual observer, and is accounted one of the most delightful characteristics of the Cat.

The brain of the Cat so closely resembles that of man as to force the unwilling admission from anatomists and physiologists that in form and substance they bear so close and striking a similarity that it must be conceded that they are, to all intents and purposes, the same in substance and conformation, and differ only in weight and size. It will be seen, from this admission of the greatest of physiologists and anatomists, possessed as men are of the natural prejudice against all animals, saving only man, in the way of his ascendency in every respect above all other animals, that, in the proportion of weight of brain and under similar circumstances, the intelligence of the Cat is equal to that of man. These forced admissions must necessarily carry conviction with them, so that I shall hope, at no distant day, to hear the admission of what to me is a proven fact, that in the ratio of the size of the two brains the Cat is equal in intelligence to man under the same existing circumstances.

The negro of America, brought up in ignorance and under servile conditions, a slave, classified as cattle, was once considered an inferior order of the human species by some, and by many as a biped, but a long step beneath his now regarded white brother. Time and experience developed the fact that the negro was susceptible of cultivation, and his ebony brain, contained in a skull of twice and thrice the thickness of the white man's, has been polished to a high degree, in exceptional cases, although I must admit that this polishing has been found to be in proportion to the degree of amalgamation with other races, particularly that of the white man.

Anatomists are unanimous in their opinions and their experiments show conclusively that the Cat has a much finer and more delicate organism than the dog. Upon this universal deduction I argue that they are more sensitive than the dog, a proposition which meets the approval of every naturalist, anatomist and pathologist who has ever taken the subject into consideration. In fact, it is almost universally conceded that Cats are fully as intelligent as dogs, and by many the feline is regarded as the superior animal in every respect.

Prof. William Lindsay, M.D., F.R.S., F.L.S., Hon. Member New Zealand Institute, says in his remarkable work, entitled "Mind in the Lower Animals": "The lower animals are subject to the same kinds of bodily diseases as affect men. They are subject to the same kinds of mental disorders, productible by the same causes as in man." He asserts that Cats readily comprehend and thoroughly understand man's words and the conversation of men. The following attributes he ascribes to the Cat, namely, "a moral sense in so far as it involves, a, honesty; b, sense of duty or trust; c, sense of guilt and shame; d, concealment of crime.

"They are self-sacrificing, even to death, understanding man's language, verbal and other, including the reading of human character and words, the interpretation of facial expressions, use of money and knowledge of its power and the principle of barter, buying and selling, self-control, appetite, co-operation with man, both in useful service and in crime, sensitiveness to insult or affront, neglect, injustice, punishment and reproof, discovery of murderers and murders, lost or stolen property, idea of time, tune, number, order, succession of events. On the whole the place next to man, as respects both intellect and morals, is usually assigned to the dog, a rank which is, undoubtedly, due to his intimate association with and careful training by man for countless generations, for there can be no question as to the hereditary transmission and consequent accumulation of the truths, good or bad, of education by or in imitation of man.

"Man ascribes to the Cat spitefulness, selfishness, cold cruelty, stealthiness, treachery and attachment to place and not to person. The poor Cat has, probably, been as much maligned and misunderstood as it has been petted. We are told that its apparent affection is only 'a cupboard love,' and that this is popularly supposed to be sufficient to account for its propensity to pilfer eatables and drinkables. It is said to be attached to place, not to person, to stick to a given house, even when a master or a mistress who has heaped kindness upon it has had occasion to change quarters. Absurd stories are told as to its sucking children's breath. To speak of a scandal-propagating, sour old maid as 'spiteful as a Cat' is so common, and we hear the Cat so frequently accused of stealthiness or treachery—of the enjoyment of the tortures of its victims and of calculating cruelty, and yet Wood tells us, 'instead of being a greedy, selfish animal, it is really a very unselfish and generous one, capable of great sacrifices.' Jesse mentions one that fed a jay twice a day with mice. Another Cat always brought and laid at her master's feet the mice she had caught, before she would eat them; she made use of them as food only when they were given back to her by her master. The attachment of the Cat is frequently as great to person as to place, such attachment, however, depending usually on how far she is understood, sympathized with and kindly treated.

"Cases have been given of Cats following their masters from house to house and place to place, accompanying them on visits to other people's residences as unconcerned as a dog. They may be trained to guard and defend like a dog."

This author speaks of the affection of the feline for the canine and gives many proofs instancing the feeding and nourishing of a sick dog by a Cat, and of Cats and dogs living together, in the same kennel, of which there have been innumerable instances. Other authors who independently verify these assertions by the relations of personal observations are Mockridge, Lubbock, Belt, Hogue, Pierre Huber, François Huber, Latreille, Nemour, Dr. Franklin, Paisley, Boyer, Spaulding, Houzeau, Nichols, Menauly, Leroy, Burnett, Jebb, Fleming, Ferrier, Gillies, Gudden, Czermak, Flourens, Smellie, Marville, J. G. Wood and many others.

Strong proofs in refutation of the ridiculous assertion that the Cat is a lover of place and not of person have been multiplied until their name is legion. Strongest of all these proofs are the verified narratives of most reliable people and recited in books of authors who are above question as to veracity. There is, in fact, no need of deceit in this demonstration of the truth in this regard, for where the intellect is but ordinary, the evidence of the eye is conclusive to those who may have witnessed the action of the maligned animal, and the character of the truthful author, whose honesty of purpose and freedom from deceit have never been impugned, will be taken for all it is worth by all searchers after the truth.

Prof. Wood, the celebrated naturalist, relates a wonderful story of a Cat, as follows:

"A Cat recently exhibited a mysterious intuitive power, which equaled if not surpassed any story of its kind and narrated. She was the property of a newly married couple, who resided toward the north of Scotland, where the country narrows considerably, by reason of the deeply cut inlets of the surrounding sea. Their cottage was at no great distance from the ocean, and there they remained for several months. After a while the householders changed their locality and took up their residence in a house near the opposite coast. As the intervening country was so hilly and rugged that there would have been much difficulty in transporting the household goods, the aid of a ship was called in, and, after giving their Cat to a neighbor as a present, the man and his wife proceeded by sea to their new home.

"After they had been settled for some weeks, they were surprised by the sudden appearance of their Cat, which presented itself at their door, dirty, ragged and half starved. As might be expected, she was joyfully received, and soon recovered her good looks.

"It is hardly possible to conceive whence the animal could have obtained her information. Even if the usual means of land transport had been taken, it would have been most wonderful that the Cat should have been able to trace the line of journey. But when, as in the present instance, the human travelers went by water and the feline traveler went by land, there seems to be no clue to the guiding power which directed the animal in its course and brought it safely to the desired goal."

XV.

ILLUSTRATIVE STORIES.

Another story, told by Dr. Wood, is proof of the falsity of the constantly repeated assertion by many naturalists that the Cat is a lover of locality and not of persons, and although it seems almost a matter of superfluity to relate it, I will narrate it in order to fix the truth beyond contradiction, in the minds of doubters of the real fact.

"Many years ago we changed our residence from one part of Oxford to another, and, having been told that Cats have no affection except for localities, my parents thought that they would not distress their Cat by taking her into a house which she would not like, and, accordingly, left 'Nutty' at home. But, after we had been settled down some eight or ten days, Nutty made her appearance among us and displayed by every means in her power her delight at rejoining her old friends. She was terribly emaciated, and had evidently endured great hardships, but in a few days her rich tortoise-shell fur had sleeked itself down and she had recovered her wonted beauty."

I take the following from "Gleanings in Natural History," by Edward Jesse, F.L.S., London, 1838. It demonstrates the love of the feline for persons and the society of human beings and her innate desire to protect both her master and his property, characteristics which have heretofore been attributed alone to the dog and denied existence in the feline animal. Of the latter trait there are thousands of instances which have come under the observation of many people, and have been recited in the numerous volumes which I have consulted in preparing this paper. The story of this old writer is as follows:

"Cats are generally persecuted animals, and are supposed to show but little attachment to those who are kind to them. I have known a Cat, however, to evince great uneasiness during the absence of her owner, and it is stated that when the Duke of Norfolk was committed to the Tower, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, a favorite Cat made her way into his prison room by getting down the chimney.

"Cats have been known, also, to do their best to protect the property of their masters as well as dogs. A man who was sentenced to transportation for robbery informed me, after his conviction, that he and two others broke into the house of a gentleman near Hampton Court. While they were in the act of plundering it a large black Cat flew at one of the robbers and fixed her claws on each side of his face. He added that he never saw any man so much frightened in his life.

"Mr. White, in his 'Natural History of Selborne,' states that of all quadrupeds Cats are the least disposed toward water, and will not, when they can avoid it, deign to wet a foot, much less to plunge into that element. The following fact, however, communicated to me by a friend who lived several years in Jamaica, will prove that, in cases of necessity, they take to water, and is also another instance of the attachment of animals to the places where they are bred. Being in want of a Cat, one was given him which was not full grown. It was put into a canvas bag, and a man on horseback brought him a distance of five miles from the place where it was bred. It had never been removed before. In doing so, he had to cross two rivers, one named the Mino, which is about eighty feet wide and two and a half feet deep, and running strong. The other, called Thomas's River, was wider and more rapid, but less deep. Over these rivers there were no bridges. The Cat, when it arrived, was shut up for some days, and when supposed to be reconciled to her new dwelling she was allowed to go about the house. The next day, however, she was missing, and was found, shortly afterward, at her old abode.

"We had one cunning old black Cat," says a correspondent of Dr. Wood, "whose wisdom was acquired by sad experience. In early youth he must have been very careless, for at that time he was always getting in the way of the men and the wine cases, and frequent were the disasters he suffered from coming into collision with moving bodies. His ribs had been often fractured, and when nature repaired them he must have handed them over to the care of her 'prentice hand, for the work was done in a rough and knotty manner.

"This battered and suffering pussy was, at last, assisted by a younger hero, who, profiting by the teaching of his senior, managed to avoid the scrapes which had tortured the one who was self-educated.

"These two Cats, 'Senior' and 'Junior,' appeared to swear—Cats will swear—eternal friendship at first sight. An interchange of good offices between them was at once established. 'Senior' taught 'Junior' to avoid men's feet, and wine-cases in motion, and pointed out the favorite hunting ground, while 'Junior' offered to his mentor the aid of his activity and physical prowess. 'Senior' had a cultivated epicurean taste for mice, which he was too old to catch, and he therefore entered into a solemn league and covenant with 'Junior' to the following effect: It was agreed between these two low contracting powers that 'Junior' should devote his energies to catching mice for the benefit of 'Senior,' who, in consideration of such feudal service, was daily to relinquish his claim to a certain allowance of cats' meat, in favor of 'Junior.'

"This curious compact was actually and seriously carried out. It was an amusing and touching spectacle to behold young pussy gravely laying at the feet of his elder the contents of his gamebag. On the other hand, 'Senior,' true to his bargain, licked his jaws and watched 'Junior' steadily consuming a double share of cats' meat."

Mr. Bidil writes from the Government Museum of Madras to "Nature," relating this instance of reasoning in a Cat:

"In 1867 I was absent from Madras for two months, and left in my quarters three Cats, one of which was an English tabby, a very gentle and affectionate creature. During my absence the quarters were occupied by two young gentlemen, who delighted in teasing and frightening the Cats. About a week before my return the English Cat had kittens, which she carefully concealed behind bookshelves in the library. On the morning of my return I saw the Cat and petted her, as usual, and then left the house for about an hour. On returning to dress, I found that the kittens were located in a corner of my dressing-room, where previous broods had been deposited and nursed. On questioning the servant how they came there, he at once replied, 'Sir, the old Cat, taking one by one in her mouth, brought them here.' In other words, the mother had carried them, one by one, in her mouth, from the library to the dressing-room, where they lay quite exposed. I do not think I have heard of a more remarkable instance of reasoning and affectionate confidence in an animal, and I need hardly say that the latter manifestation gave me great pleasure. The train of reasoning seems to be as follows: 'Now my master has returned, there is no risk of the kittens being injured by the two young savages in the house, so I will take them out for my protector to see and admire, and keep them in the corner in which all my former pets have been nursed in safety.'

"The attachment of the dog and the Cat is sometimes curiously manifested," says Prof. Wood, and he continues: "In a large metropolitan household there had been a change of servants, and the new cook begged, as a favor, to be permitted the company of her dog. Permission was granted, and the dog took up his quarters in the kitchen, to the infinite disgust of the Cat, who thought her dignity insulted by the introduction of a stranger into her special domain. In process of time, however, she got over her dislike and the two animals became fast friends. At last the cook left and took with her the dog.

"After an absence of some length, she determined on paying a visit to her former companions, her dog accompanying her as usual. Pussy was in the room when the dog entered, and flew forward to greet him. She then ran out of the room and shortly returned, bearing in her mouth her own dinner. This she laid before her old friend, and actually stood behind him as he ate the food with which she so hospitably entertained him.

"This anecdote was related to me by the owner of the cat, and there can be no reason to doubt it.

"In a chateau in Normandy lived a favorite Cat, which was plentifully supplied with food, and had grown fat and sleek on her luxurious fare. Indeed, so bounteously was her plate supplied that she was unable to consume the entire amount of provisions laid before her. This superabundance of food seemed to weigh upon her mind, and one day, before her dinner time, she set off across the fields and paid a visit to a little cottage near the roadside, where there lived a lean Cat. The two animals returned to the chateau in company, and after the feline hostess had eaten as much dinner as she desired she relinquished the remainder in favor of her friend.

"The kind-hearted proprietor of the chateau, seeing this curious act of hospitality, increased the daily allowance of meat and afforded an ample meal for both Cats. The improved diet soon exerted its beneficial effect on the lean stranger, who speedily became as near comfortably sleek as her hostess.

"In this improved state of matters she could not eat as much as when she was half starved and ravenous with hunger, and so, after the two cats had dined, there was still an overplus. In order to avoid waste, and urged by the generosity of her feelings, the hospitable Cat set forth on another journey, and fetched another lean Cat from a village at a league's distance.

"The owner of the chateau, being desirous to see how the matter would end, continued to increase the daily allowance, and had, at last, as pensioners of his bounty, nearly twenty Cats, which had been brought from various houses in the surrounding country. Yet, however ravenous were these daily visitors, none of them touched a morsel until their hostess had finished her own dinner. My informant heard this narrative from the owner of the chateau.

"In the conduct of this hospitably minded Cat there seems to be none of the commercial spirit which actuated the two Mincing Lane Cats, but an open-pawed liberality, as beseems an aristocratic birth and breeding. The creature had evidently a sense of economy as well as a spirit of generosity, and blending the two qualities together, became the general almoner of the neighboring felines. There must have been also great powers of conversation between these various animals, for it is evident that they were able to communicate ideas to each other and to induce their companions to act upon the imparted information."

XVI.

SUPERIORITY OF THE CAT OVER OTHER QUADRUMINA.

The recent experiments of Prof. Ferrier, according to his own interpretation of the phenomena, tend to show that human and animal language are identical—that the barking of a dog and the mewing of the Cat are equivalents of speech in man, and that the faculty of language in man and other animals has virtually the same seat in the brain. He describes opening the mouth, putting out the tongue and barking, in the dog, mewing, spitting or hissing, in the Cat, as signs corresponding to speech. But it needed not the experiments of the physiologist or the pathologist, or the scalpel of the anatomist, to tell us that the dog's bark, the cat's mew and the horse's neigh, as well as the corresponding vocal expressions in other animals, are the analogies of speech or speaking in man. Language in animals is both natural and acquired. In both cases it may be the result of self tuition or man's instruction and training. In both cases its variety is to be remarked upon, and, just as in man, this variety, which involves expressiveness, or the sign thereof, is frequently, if not always, in proportion to the degree of cultivation or education of the speaker. The interpretation of animal language, in its varied forms, is of the utmost importance in relation to the discrimination of notes. It is known, but with accompanying difficulties which arise mainly from the following causes or source: first, the significance of animal language has been little studied by man; second, the wishes or thoughts are expressed in an infinite variety of ways, not only in different tribes, genera or species, but, in different individuals of the same species and different members of the same family and different offspring of the same parent, in different ages of the same individual, in the same individual at different times and under different circumstances. The mode of expressing the passions is different in different animals. Many of the utterances of animals are such distinct imitations of the human voice and other sounds as to deceive even man himself.

I do not credit the Darwinian theory of evolution with being in the line of common sense. In this doubt of its correctness I think I am joined by the great majority of mankind. In some human beings who think as I do upon this subject, the wish may be father to the thought, for a matter of pride, because no man takes kindly to the assertion that his progenitors were apes and baboons, or something akin to these, and this may be classified as a very commendable pride in the human being. Nor do I believe that the domestic Cat is an evolution from the wild-cat, or the puma, or the jaguar, or anything of their species. The resemblance has deceived more than one of the best writers upon the subject, as it certainly tends to do. Naturalists are at variance now, as they always have been, upon the subject of the true origin of the Cat, for while some declare that the domestic Cat evolves from the wild-cat, others claim, with as much sincerity, that the wild-cat comes from the domestic feline. One author, in proof of such an assertion, remarks that the wild-cat is not indigenous to the soil of America, and must, therefore, have evolved from a domestic animal, our household pet, as there was no other way for the wild animal to get to this country—an argument which would scarcely apply to other animals. I cannot see the force of such an argument, nor do I bring myself to the belief that the beautiful and loving household pet is descended from the ferocious and comparatively enormous wild-cat or anything of its species, any more than I can believe that the dog is an evolution from the lion, the catamount from the tiger, the sprat from the whale, or man from the ape. The natural tendency to domesticity in the Cat is antagonistic to this theory of evolution, as are many other individualities of the feline, and I shall, therefore, claim that our Cat is not even a distant relative of the wild animal, but is so far removed that the comparison is not only odious but incorrect.

Prof. E.P. Thompson, in his valuable treatise, entitled "Passions of Animals," gives to the feline race the following characteristics: "Perception, touch, taste, smell, hearing, sight, recollection, memory, imagination, dreams, playfulness, homesickness, thought, discrimination, attention, experience, sense of injustice, computation of time, calculation of number, sensation, tone and power of sensation, sympathy, joy, pain, anger, astonishment, fear, sympathy of suffering, cruelty, desire, fellowship of joy, compassion, appetite, impulse, instinct, self-preservation, tenacity of life, temptation, hibernation, form and color, distribution, habitation, cleanliness, change of habitation, locality, postures and use of natural weapons, care of young, affection for offspring, imitation, social impulse, communication, language, curiosity, sagacity, temperament, foresight, cunning, artifice, dissimulation, attachment, fidelity, gratitude, generosity, vanity, love of praise, jealousy, predominancy, hatred, revenge, love, and training."

Concerning the almost universal belief that the dog is a more intelligent animal than the Cat, while the classification of animals, in the order of intellect, by many authors, gives the first place to the dog, the second to the Cat and the third to the horse, I cannot agree with them, because the facts are all against such an order of classification. I protest against the preferment of the dog to the feline for many reasons, not the least of which is the established and apparent fact that the construction of the Cat is finer than that of the dog. It goes without saying that the dog has been given far more and better opportunities for learning and refinement than the Cat. The dog is the constant companion of man. He goes with him everywhere, to his place of business, to his farm, to his work of every nature, upon his walks abroad, to the enjoyment of his sports, to the tavern, even to the church, and, when the day's work and pleasures are over, to his home, and frequently to his bed-chamber. The dog is with the man, his constant companion, from the cradle to the grave, and from his constant companionship come the knowledge and intelligence of the canine, developed by constant observation of man's habits, mode of expression, likes, dislikes, associations and moods. It must be admitted by the most obtuse that the Cat has never been given such privilege; consequently, to compare the Cat with the dog, in the matter of intelligence, is an apparent injustice. Give to the feline the same advantages which are bestowed upon the canine, and the superiority of the Cat will be immediately appreciable. Prof. George J. Romanes, in his valuable work, "Animal Intelligence," recently published, says in relation to the injustice done the feline animal by naturalists in general:

"The Cat is, unquestionably, a highly intelligent animal, though, when compared with its great domestic rival, the dog, its intelligence, from being cast in quite a different mold, is very frequently underrated. Comparatively unsocial in temperament, wanderingly predaceous in habits and lacking in the affectionate docility of the canine nature, this animal has never, in any considerable degree, been subject to those psychologically transforming influences whereby a prolonged and intimate association with man has, as we shall subsequently see, so profoundly modified the psychology of the dog. Nevertheless, the Cat is not only by nature, an animal remarkable for intelligence, but, in spite of its naturally imposed disadvantages of temperament, has not altogether escaped those privileges of nurture which unnumbered centuries of domestication could scarcely fail to supply. Thus, as contrasted with most of the wild species of the genus when tamed from their youngest days, the domestic cat is conspicuously less uncertain in its temper toward its masters, the uncertainty of temper displayed by nearly all the wild members of the feline tribe, when tame, being, of course, an expression of the interference of individual with hereditary experience."

The delicacy and carefulness of the Cat were never more characteristically illustrated or more gracefully described than by Prof. Philip G. Hamerton, in his interesting and graphically written "Chapter on Animals," in which he takes occasion to say:

"One evening, before dinner time, the present writer had occasion to go into a dining room where the cloth was already laid, the glasses already upon the sideboard and table, and the lamp and candles lighted. A Cat, which was a favorite in the house, finding the door ajar, entered softly after me, and began to make a little exploration after his manner. I have a fancy for watching animals when they think they are not observed, so I affected to be entirely absorbed in the occupation which detained me there, and took note of the Cat's proceedings without in any way interrupting them. The first thing he did was to jump upon a chair and thence up on the sideboard. There was a good deal of glass and plate upon that piece of furniture, but nothing as yet which, in the Cat's opinion, was worth purloining, so he brought all his paws together on the very edge of the board, the two forepaws in the middle, the others on both sides, and sat, balancing himself for a minute or two whilst he contemplated the long, glittering vista of the table. As yet there was not an item of anything eatable upon it, but the cat probably thought he might as well ascertain whether this were so or not by a closer inspection, for, with a single spring, he cleared the abyss, and alighted noiselessly on the tablecloth. He walked all over it, and left no trace. He passed among the slender glasses, fragile stems, like air-bubbles cut in half and balanced on spears of ice, yet he disturbed nothing, broke nothing anywhere. When his inspection was over he stepped out of sight, having been perfectly inaudible from the beginning, so that a blind person could only have suspected his visit by that mysterious sense which makes the blind aware of the presence of another creature.

"This little scene reveals one remarkable characteristic of the feline nature, the innate and exquisite refinement of its behavior. It would be infinitely difficult, probably even impossible, to communicate a delicacy of this kind to any animal by teaching. Why should she tread so carefully? It is not from fear of offending her master and incurring punishment, because to do so is in conformity with her own idea of behavior, exactly as a lady would feel vexed with herself if she broke anything in her own drawing-room, though no one would blame her maladresse, and she would never feel the loss. A dog on velvet is evidently out of place; he would be as happy in clean straw; but a Cat on velvet does not awaken any sense of the incongruous. If animals could speak, the dog would be a bluff, outspoken, honest fellow, but the Cat would have the rare talent of never saying a word too much."