Chapter II: Front Matter (2)

Thereupon the white bee returned seeking ε, but failing to find it, at once went to feeding on some of the Dahlias. But she tarried only a moment on each Dahlia as if tortured by the _idée fixe_ of honey. She returned to the artefacts, the perception of which, however, she was not quite able to associate with the memory of the honey flavor. At last she found a separate piece of ε, which happened to be turned down somewhat behind, and began lapping up the honey.

Thenceforth the three painted bees, and these alone, returned regularly to the artefacts and no longer visited the Dahlias. The fact is of great importance that the painted bees entirely of their own accord, undoubtedly through an instinctive inference from analogy, discovered the other artefacts as soon as their attention had been attracted by the honey on one of them, notwithstanding the fact that the artefacts were some distance from one another and of different colors. For were not the Dahlias, too, which they had previously visited, of different colors? Thus the blue bee flew to α, β, γ, and δ, the yellow to β, α, δ, and γ, the white ε, α, β, and δ. Matters continued thus for half an hour. The hidden green ζ was not found, evidently because it was indistinguishable from the green foliage.

Finally one bee, by herself, having had in all probability her attention attracted by the three others, came to δ and fed. I marked her with carmine. Thereupon she flew to α and drove the blue bee away. Another bee was attracted to ε of her own accord and was painted with cinnobar. Still another bee came by herself to β and was painted green. It was now 12.30 o’clock. The experiment had therefore lasted more than three hours, and during this time only six bees had come to know the artefacts, while the great majority still kept on visiting the Dahlias. But now the other bees began to have their attention attracted by the visitors to the artefacts. One, then two, then three, and finally more new ones followed, and I had not sufficient colors with which to mark them. Every moment I was obliged to replenish the honey. Then I went to dinner and returned at 1.25. At this moment seven bees were feeding on β, two on α, one on γ, three on δ, the white one alone on ε. More than half of all these were new, unpainted followers. Now a veritable swarm of bees threw themselves on the artefacts and licked up the last traces of the honey. Then for the first time, after more than four hours, a bee from the swarm discovered the honey on the artefact ζ, which on account of its color had remained concealed up to this time!

As a pack of hounds throws itself on an empty skeleton, the swarm of bees, now completely diverted from the Dahlias, cast themselves on the completely empty artefacts and vainly searched every corner of them for honey. It was 1.55 P. M. The bees began to scatter and return to the Dahlias. Then I replaced α and β by a red and white paper respectively, which had never come in contact with honey and could not therefore smell of the substance. These pieces of paper, nevertheless, were visited and examined by various bees, whose brains were still possessed with the fixed idea of the flavor of honey. The white bee, e. g., investigated the white paper very carefully for a period of three to four minutes. There could, of course, be no such thing as an unknown force or attraction of odor, or brilliancy of floral colors. This fact can only be explained by an association of space, form, and color memories with memories of taste.

Thereupon I took all the artefacts in my left hand for the purpose of carrying them away. Two or three bees followed me, hovering about my left hand, and tried to alight on the empty artefacts. The space-image had changed and only the color and form could any longer be of service to the bees in their recognition of these objects.

This experiment is so clear and unequivocal that I mention it here among many others. It demonstrates:

1. The space, form, and color perceptions of the honey-bee. That these are possible only through the agency of the compound eyes is proved by other experiments (varnishing the eyes, extirpation of the antennæ, mouth-parts, etc.).

2. The memory of the honey-bee, in particular her visual and gustatory memory.

3. Her power of associating gustatory with visual memories.

4. Her ability instinctively to draw inferences from analogy: If she has once been offered honey in an artefact, she will investigate others, even those of a different color and hitherto unnoticed. These she compares by means of the visual sense, since they are relatively similar, and recognises them as similar though such objects are most unusual in the bee’s experience.

5. Her poor olfactory sense, which is useful only at very close range.

6. The onesidedness and narrow circle of her attention.

7. The rapid formation of habits.

8. The limits of imitation of bees by one another.

Of course, I should not allow myself to draw these conclusions from a single experiment, if they had not been confirmed by innumerable observations by the ablest investigators in this field. Lubbock showed clearly that it is necessary to train a bee for some time to go to a particular color if one wishes to compel her to pay no attention to other colors. This is the only way in which it is possible to demonstrate her ability to distinguish colors. My bees, on the contrary, had been trained on differently colored objects (Dahlias and artefacts) and therefore paid no attention to differences in color. It would be a fallacy to conclude from this that they do not distinguish colors. On the contrary, by means of other experiments I have fully confirmed Lubbock’s results.

By 2.20 P. M. all of my bees, even the painted ones, had returned to the Dahlias.

On September 27, a week later, I wished to perform a fresh experiment with the same bees. I intended to make them distinguish between differently colored discs, placed at different points on a long scale, representing on a great sheet of paper, varying intensities of light from white through gray to black. First, I wished to train a bee to a single color. But I had calculated without the bee’s memory, which rendered the whole experiment impracticable. Scarcely had I placed my paper with the discs on the lawn near the Dahlia bed, and placed one or two bees on the blue discs and marked them with colors, when they began to investigate all the red, blue, white, black and other discs with or without honey. After a few moments had elapsed, other bees came from the Dahlia bed and in a short time a whole swarm threw itself on the paper discs. Of course, those that had been provided with honey were most visited, because they detained the bees, but even the discs without honey were stormed and scrutinised by bees following one another in their flight. The bees besieged even the paint-box. Among these there was one that I had previously deprived of her antennæ. She had previously partaken of the honey on the blue discs and had returned to the hive. This bee examined the blue piece of paint in the color-box.

In brief, my experiment was impossible, because all the bees still remembered from a former occasion the many-colored artefacts provided with honey, and therefore examined all the paper discs no matter of what color. The association between the taste of the honey and the paper discs had been again aroused by the sight-perception of the latter, and had acquired both consistency and rapid and powerful imitation, because honey happened to be actually found on some of the discs.

Together with the perceptive and associative powers, the power of drawing simple, instinctive inferences from analogy is also apparent. Without this, indeed, the operation of perception and memory would be inconceivable! We have just given an example. I have shown on a former occasion that humble-bees, whose nest I had transferred to my window, when they returned home often confounded other windows of the same façade and examined them for a long time before they discovered the right one. Lubbock reports similar facts. Von Buttel shows that bees that are accustomed to rooms and windows, learn to examine the rooms and windows in other places, i. e., other houses. When Pissot suspended wire netting with meshes twenty-two mm. in diameter in front of a wasp nest, the wasps hesitated at first, then went around the netting by crawling along the ground or avoided it in some other way. But they soon learned to fly directly through the meshes. The sense of sight, observed during flight, is particularly well adapted to experiments of this kind, which cannot therefore be performed with ants. But the latter undoubtedly draw similar inferences from the data derived from their topochemical antennal sense. The discovery of prey or other food on a plant or an object induces these insects to examine similar plants or objects and to perform other actions of a like nature.

There are, on the other hand, certain very stupid insects, like the males of ants, the Diptera and may-flies (Ephemerids) with rudimental brains, incapable of learning anything or of combining sense-impressions to any higher degree than as simple automatisms, and without any demonstrable retention of memory-images. Such insects lead a life almost exclusively dominated by sensory stimuli; but their lives are adapted to extremely simple conditions. In these very instances the difference is most striking, and they demonstrate most clearly through comparison and contrast the _plus_ possessed by more intelligent insects.

THE REALM OF WILL.

The notion of volition, in contradistinction to the notion of reflex action, presupposes the expiration of a certain time interval and the operation of mediating and complex brain-activities between the sense-impression and the movement which it conditions. In the operation of the purposeful automatisms of instinct which arouse one another into activity in certain sequences, there is also a time interval, filled out by internal, dynamic brain-processes as in the case of the will. Hence these are not pure reflexes. They may for a time suffer interruption and then be again continued. But their operation is brought about in great measure by a concatenation of complicated reflexes which follow one another in a compulsory order. On this account the term automatism or instinct is justifiable.

If we are to speak of will in the narrower sense, we must be able to establish the existence of individual decisions, which can be directed according to circumstances, i. e., are modifiable, and may, for a certain period, remain dormant in the brain to be still performed notwithstanding. Such volition may be very different from the complex volition of man, which consists of the resultants of prodigiously manifold components that have been long preparing and combining. The ants exhibit positive and negative volitional phenomena, which cannot be mistaken. The ants of the genus Formica Linné are particularly brilliant in this respect, and they also illustrate the individual psychical activities most clearly. The above-mentioned migrations from nest to nest show very beautifully the individual plans of single workers carried out with great tenacity. For hours at a time an ant may try to overcome a multitude of difficulties for the purpose of attaining an aim which she has set herself. This aim is not accurately prescribed by instinct, as the insect may be confronted with several possibilities, so that it often happens that two ants may be working in opposition to each other. This looks like stupidity to the superficial observer. But it is just here that the ant’s plasticity reveals itself. For a time the two little animals interfere with each other, but finally they notice the fact, and one of them gives in, goes away, or assists the other.

These conditions are best observed during the building of nests or roads, e. g., in the horse-ant (_Formica rufa_) and still better in _F. pratensis_. It is necessary, however, to follow the behavior of a few ants for hours, if one would have a clear conception of this matter, and for this much patience and much time are necessary. The combats between ants, too, show certain very consistent aims of behavior, especially the struggles which I have called chronic combats (_combats à froid_). After two parties (two colonies brought together) have made peace with each other, one often sees a few individuals persecuting and maltreating certain individuals of the opposite party. They often carry their victims a long distance off, for the purpose of excluding them from the nest. If the ant that has been borne away returns to the nest and is found by her persecutrix, she is again seized and carried away to a still greater distance. In one such case in an artificial nest of a small species of Leptothorax, the persecuting ant succeeded in dragging her victim to the edge of my table. She then stretched out her head and allowed her burden to fall on the floor. This was not chance, for she repeated the performance twice in succession after I had again placed the victim on the table. Among the different individuals of the previously hostile, but now pacified opposition, she had concentrated her antipathy on this particular ant and had tried to make her return to the nest impossible. One must have very strong preconceived opinions if in such and many similar cases one would maintain that ants are lacking in individual decision and execution. Of course, all these things happen within the confines of the instinct-precincts of the species, and the different stages in the execution of a project are instinctive. Moreover, I expressly defend myself against the imputation that I am importing human reflection and abstract concepts into this volition of the ant, though we must honestly admit, nevertheless, that in the accomplishment of our human decisions both hereditary and secondary automatisms are permitted to pass unnoticed. While I am writing these words, my eyes operate with partially hereditary, and my hand with secondary automatisms. But it goes without saying that only a human brain is capable of carrying out my complex innervations and my concomitant abstract reflections. But the ant must, nevertheless, associate and consider somewhat in a concrete way after the manner of an ant, when it pursues one of the above-mentioned aims and combines its instincts with this special object in view. While, however, the instinct of the ant can be combined for only a few slightly different purposes, by means of a small number of plastic adaptations or associations, individually interrupted in their concatenation or _vice versa_, in the thinking human being both inherited and secondary automatisms are only fragments or instruments in the service of an overwhelming, all-controlling, plastic brain-activity. It may be said incidentally that the relative independence of the spinal chord and of subordinate brain-centers in the lower animals (and even in the lower mammals) as compared with the cerebrum, may be explained in a similar manner if they are compared with the profound dependence of these organs and their functions on the massive cerebrum in man and even to some extent in the apes. The cerebrum splits up and controls its automatisms (_divide et impera_).

While success visibly heightens both the audacity and tenacity of the ant-will, it is possible to observe after repeated failure or in consequence of the sudden and unexpected attacks of powerful enemies a form of abulic dejection, which may lead to a neglect of the most important instincts, to cowardly flight, to the devouring or casting away of offspring, to neglect of work, and similar conditions. There is a chronically cumulative discouragement in degenerate ant-colonies and an acute discouragement when a combat is lost. In the latter case one may see troops of large powerful ants fleeing before a single enemy, without even attempting to defend themselves, whereas the latter a few moments previously would have been killed by a few bites from the fleeing individuals. It is remarkable how soon the victor notices and utilises this abulic discouragement. The dejected ants usually rally after the flight and soon take heart and initiative again. But they offer but feeble resistance, e. g., to a renewed attack from the same enemy on the following day. Even an ant’s brain does not so soon forget the defeats which it has suffered.

In bitter conflicts between two colonies of nearly equal strength the tenacity of the struggle and with it the will to conquer increases till one of the parties is definitively overpowered. In the realm of will imitation plays a great rôle. Even among ants protervity and dejection are singularly contagious.

THE REALM OF FEELING.

It may perhaps sound ludicrous to speak of feelings in insects. But when we stop to consider how profoundly instinctive and fixed is our human life of feeling, how pronounced are the emotions in our domestic animals, and how closely interwoven with the impulses, we should expect to encounter emotions and feelings in animal psychology. And these may indeed be recognised so clearly that even Uexkuell would have to capitulate if he should come to know them more accurately. We find them already interwoven with the will as we have described it. Most of the emotions of insects are profoundly united to the instincts. Of such a nature is the jealousy of the queen bee when she kills the rival princesses, and the terror of the latter while they are still within their cells; such is the rage of fighting ants, wasps, and bees, the above-mentioned discouragement, the love of the brood, the self-devotion of the worker honey-bees, when they die of hunger while feeding their queen, and many other cases of a similar description. But there are also individual emotions that are not compelled altogether by instinct, e. g., the above-mentioned mania of certain ants for maltreating some of their antagonists. On the other hand, as I have shown, friendly services (feeding), under exceptional circumstances, may call forth feelings of sympathy and finally of partnership, even between ants of different species. Further than this, feelings of sympathy, antipathy, and anger among ants may be intensified by repetition and by the corresponding activities, just as in other animals and man.

The social sense of duty is instinctive in ants, though they exhibit great individual, temporary, and occasional deviations, which betray a certain amount of plasticity.

PSYCHIC CORRELATIONS.

I have rapidly reviewed the three main realms of ant-psychology. It is self-evident that in this matter they no more admit of sharp demarcation from one another than elsewhere. The will consists of centrifugal resultants of sense-impressions and feelings and in turn reacts powerfully on both of these.

It is of considerable interest to observe the antagonism between different perceptions, feelings, and volitions in ants and bees, and the manner in which in these animals the intensely fixed (obsessional) attention may be finally diverted from one thing to another. Here experiment is able to teach us much. While bees are busy foraging on only one species of flower, they overlook everything else, even other flowers. If their attention is diverted by honey offered them directly, although previously overlooked, they have eyes only for the honey. An intense emotion, like the swarming of honey-bees (von Buttel) compels these insects to forget all animosities and even the old maternal hive to which they no longer return. But if the latter happens to be painted blue, and if the swarming is interrupted by taking away the queen, the bees recollect the blue color of their old hive and fly to hives that are painted blue. Two feelings often struggle with each other in bees that are “crying” and without a queen: that of animosity towards strange bees and the desire for a queen. Now if they be given a strange queen by artificial means, they kill or maltreat her, because the former feeling at first predominates. For this reason the apiarist encloses the strange queen in a wire cage. Then the foreign odor annoys the bees less because it is further away and they are unable to persecute the queen. Still they recognise the specific queen-odor and are able to feed her through the bars of the cage. This suffices to pacify the hive. Then the second feeling quickly comes to the front; the workers become rapidly inured to the new odor and after three or four days have elapsed, the queen may be liberated without peril.

It is possible in ants to make the love of sweets struggle with the sense of duty, when enemies are made to attack a colony and honey is placed before the ants streaming forth to defend their nest. I have done this with _Formica pratensis_. At first the ants partook of the honey, but only for an instant. The sense of duty conquered and all of them without exception, hurried forth to battle and most of them to death. In this case a higher decision of instinct was victorious over the lower impulse.

In _résumé_ I would lay stress on the following general conclusions:

1. From the standpoint of natural science we are bound to hold fast to the psychophysiological theory of identity (Monism) in contradistinction to dualism, because it alone is in harmony with the facts and with the law of the conservation of energy.

Our mind must be studied simultaneously both directly from within and indirectly from without, through biology and the conditions of its origin. Hence there is such a thing as comparative psychology of other individuals in addition to that of self, and in like manner we are led to a psychology of animals. Inference from analogy, applied with caution, is not only permissible in this science, but obligatory.

2. The senses of insects are our own. Only the auditory sense still remains doubtful, so far as its location and interpretation are concerned. A sixth sense has not yet been shown to exist, and a special sense of direction and orientation is certainly lacking. The vestibular apparatus of vertebrates is merely an organ of equilibration and mediates internal sensations of acceleration, but gives no orientation in space outside of the body. On the other hand the visual and olfactory senses of insects present varieties in the range of their competency and in their specific energies (vision of ultra-violet, functional peculiarities of the facetted eye, topochemical antennal sense and contact-odor).

3. Reflexes, instincts, and plastic, individually adaptive, central nervous activities pass over into one another by gradations. Higher complications of these central or psychic functions correspond to a more complicated apparatus of superordinated neuron-complexes (cerebrum).

4. Without becoming antagonistic, the central nervous activity in the different groups and species of animals complicates itself in two directions: (_a_) through inheritance (natural selection, etc.) of the complex, purposeful automatisms, or instincts; (_b_) through the increasingly manifold possibilities of plastic, individually adaptive activities, in combination with the faculty of gradually developing secondary individual automatisms (habits).

The latter mode requires many more nerve-elements. Through hereditary predispositions (imperfect instincts) of greater or less stability, it presents transitions to the former mode.

5. In social insects the correlation of more developed psychic powers with the volume of the brain may be directly observed.

6. In these animals it is possible to demonstrate the existence of memory, associations of sensory images, perceptions, attention, habits, simple powers of inference from analogy, the utilisation of individual experiences and hence distinct, though feeble, plastic, individual deliberations or adaptations.

7. It is also possible to detect a corresponding, simpler form of volition, i. e., the carrying out of individual decisions in a more or less protracted time-sequence, through different concatenations of instincts; furthermore different kinds of discomfort and pleasure emotions, as well as interactions and antagonisms between these diverse psychic powers.

8. In insect behavior the activity of the attention is one-sided and occupies a prominent place. It narrows the scope of behavior and renders the animal temporarily blind (inattentive) to other sense-impressions.

Thus, however different may be the development of the automatic and plastic, central neurocyme activities in the brains of different animals, it is surely possible, nevertheless, to recognise certain generally valid series of phenomena and their fundamental laws.

Even to-day I am compelled to uphold the seventh thesis which I established in 1877 in my habilitation as _privat-docent_ in the University of Munich:

“All the properties of the human mind may be derived from the properties of the animal mind.”

I would merely add to this:

“And all the mental attributes of higher animals may be derived from those of lower animals.” In other words: The doctrine of evolution is quite as valid in the province of psychology as it is in all the other provinces of organic life. Notwithstanding all the differences presented by animal organisms and the conditions of their existence, the psychic functions of the nerve-elements seem nevertheless, everywhere to be in accord with certain fundamental laws, even in the cases where this would be least expected on account of the magnitude of the differences.