What is Man? and Other Essays. Mark Twain

race has produced architects who could approach the air in genius or culture. No civilized race has produced architects who could plan a house better for the uses proposed than can hers. Her house contains a throne-room; nurseries for her young; granaries; apartments for her soldiers, her workers, etc.; and they and the multifarious halls and corridors which communicate with them are arranged and distributed with an educated and experienced eye for convenience and adaptability.

      Y.M. That could be mere instinct.

      O.M. It would elevate the savage if he had it. But let us look further before we decide. The ant has soldiers – battalions, regiments, armies; and they have their appointed captains and generals, who lead them to battle.

      Y.M. That could be instinct, too.

      O.M. We will look still further. The ant has a system of government; it is well planned, elaborate, and is well carried on.

      Y.M. Instinct again.

      O.M. She has crowds of slaves, and is a hard and unjust employer of forced labor.

      Y.M. Instinct.

      O.M. She has cows, and milks them.

      Y.M. Instinct, of course.

      O.M. In Texas she lays out a farm twelve feet square, plants it, weeds it, cultivates it, gathers the crop and stores it away.

      Y.M. Instinct, all the same.

      O.M. The ant discriminates between friend and stranger. Sir John Lubbock took ants from two different nests, made them drunk with whiskey and laid them, unconscious, by one of the nests, near some water. Ants from the nest came and examined and discussed these disgraced creatures, then carried their friends home and threw the strangers overboard. Sir John repeated the experiment a number of times. For a time the sober ants did as they had done at first – carried their friends home and threw the strangers overboard. But finally they lost patience, seeing that their reformatory efforts went for nothing, and threw both friends and strangers overboard. Come – is this instinct, or is it thoughtful and intelligent discussion of a thing new – absolutely new – to their experience; with a verdict arrived at, sentence passed, and judgment executed? Is it instinct? – thought petrified by ages of habit – or isn't it brand-new thought, inspired by the new occasion, the new circumstances?

      Y.M. I have to concede it. It was not a result of habit; it has all the look of reflection, thought, putting this and that together, as you phrase it. I believe it was thought.

      O.M. I will give you another instance of thought. Franklin had a cup of sugar on a table in his room. The ants got at it. He tried several preventives; and ants rose superior to them. Finally he contrived one which shut off access – probably set the table's legs in pans of water, or drew a circle of tar around the cup, I don't remember. At any rate, he watched to see what they would do. They tried various schemes – failures, every one. The ants were badly puzzled. Finally they held a consultation, discussed the problem, arrived at a decision – and this time they beat that great philosopher. They formed in procession, cross the floor, climbed the wall, marched across the ceiling to a point just over the cup, then one by one they let go and fell down into it! Was that instinct – thought petrified by ages of inherited habit?

      Y.M. No, I don't believe it was. I believe it was a newly reasoned scheme to meet a new emergency.

      O.M. Very well. You have conceded the reasoning power in two instances. I come now to a mental detail wherein the ant is a long way the superior of any human being. Sir John Lubbock proved by many experiments that an ant knows a stranger ant of her own species in a moment, even when the stranger is disguised – with paint. Also he proved that an ant knows every individual in her hive of five hundred thousand souls. Also, after a year's absence one of the five hundred thousand she will straightway recognize the returned absentee and grace the recognition with a affectionate welcome. How are these recognitions made? Not by color, for painted ants were recognized. Not by smell, for ants that had been dipped in chloroform were recognized. Not by speech and not by antennae signs nor contacts, for the drunken and motionless ants were recognized and the friend discriminated from the stranger. The ants were all of the same species, therefore the friends had to be recognized by form and feature – friends who formed part of a hive of five hundred thousand! Has any man a memory for form and feature approaching that?

      Y.M. Certainly not.

      O.M. Franklin's ants and Lubbuck's ants show fine capacities of putting this and that together in new and untried emergencies and deducting smart conclusions from the combinations – a man's mental process exactly. With memory to help, man preserves his observations and reasonings, reflects upon them, adds to them, recombines, and so proceeds, stage by stage, to far results – from the teakettle to the ocean greyhound's complex engine; from personal labor to slave labor; from wigwam to palace; from the capricious chase to agriculture and stored food; from nomadic life to stable government and concentrated authority; from incoherent hordes to massed armies. The ant has observation, the reasoning faculty, and the preserving adjunct of a prodigious memory; she has duplicated man's development and the essential features of his civilization, and you call it all instinct!

      Y.M. Perhaps I lacked the reasoning faculty myself.

      O.M. Well, don't tell anybody, and don't do it again.

      Y.M. We have come a good way. As a result – as I understand it – I am required to concede that there is absolutely no intellectual frontier separating Man and the Unrevealed Creatures?

      O.M. That is what you are required to concede. There is no such frontier – there is no way to get around that. Man has a finer and more capable machine in him than those others, but it is the same machine and works in the same way. And neither he nor those others can command the machine – it is strictly automatic, independent of control, works when it pleases, and when it doesn't please, it can't be forced.

      Y.M. Then man and the other animals are all alike, as to mental machinery, and there isn't any difference of any stupendous magnitude between them, except in quality, not in kind.

      O.M. That is about the state of it – intellectuality. There are pronounced limitations on both sides. We can't learn to understand much of their language, but the dog, the elephant, etc., learn to understand a very great deal of ours. To that extent they are our superiors. On the other hand, they can't learn reading, writing, etc., nor any of our fine and high things, and there we have a large advantage over them.

      Y.M. Very well, let them have what they've got, and welcome; there is still a wall, and a lofty one. They haven't got the Moral Sense; we have it, and it lifts us immeasurably above them.

      O.M. What makes you think that?

      Y.M. Now look here – let's call a halt. I have stood the other infamies and insanities and that is enough; I am not going to have man and the other animals put on the same level morally.

      O.M. I wasn't going to hoist man up to that.

      Y.M. This is too much! I think it is not right to jest about such things.

      O.M. I am not jesting, I am merely reflecting a plain and simple truth – and without uncharitableness. The fact that man knows right from wrong proves his INTELLECTUAL superiority to the other creatures; but the fact that he can DO wrong proves his MORAL inferiority to any creature that CANNOT. It is my belief that this position is not assailable.

      Y.M. What is your opinion regarding Free Will?

      O.M. That there is no such thing. Did the man possess it who gave the old woman his last shilling and trudged home in the storm?

      Y.M. He had the choice between succoring the old woman and leaving her to suffer. Isn't it so?

      O.M. Yes, there was a choice to be made, between bodily comfort on the one hand and the comfort of the spirit on the other. The body made a strong appeal, of course – the body would be quite sure to do that; the spirit made a counter appeal. A choice had to be made between the two appeals, and was made. Who or what determined that choice?

      Y.M. Any one but you would say that the man determined it, and that in doing it he exercised Free Will.

      O.M. We are constantly assured that every man is endowed with Free Will, and that he can and must exercise it where