 The Philosophy of Birds Nest, by Alfred Russel Wallace. Instinct or Reason in the Construction of Birds Nest Birds we are told, build their nest by instinct, while man constructs his dwelling by the exercise of reason. Birds never change, but continue to build for ever on the self-same plan. Man alters and improves his houses continually. Reason advances. Instinct is stationary. This doctrine is so very general that it may almost be said to be universally adopted. Men who agree on nothing else accept this as a good explanation of the facts. Philosophers and poets, metaphysicians and divines, naturalists and the general public, not only agree in believing this to be probable, but even adopt it as a sort of axiom that is so self-evident as to need no proof, and use it as the very foundation of their speculations on instinct and reason. A belief so general one would think must rest on indisputable facts, and be a logical deduction from them. Yet I have come to the conclusion that not only is it very doubtful, but absolutely erroneous, that it not only deviates widely from the truths, but is in almost every particular exactly opposed to it. I believe, in short, that birds do not build their nest by instinct, that man does not construct his dwelling by reason, that birds do change and improve when affected by the same causes that make men do so, and that mankind neither alter nor improve when they exist under conditions similar to those which are almost universal among birds. Do men build by reason or by imitation? Let us first consider the theory of reason, as alone determining the domestic architecture of the human race. Man as a reasonable animal, it is said, continually alters and improves his dwelling. This I entirely deny. As a rule, he neither alters nor improves, any more than the birds do. What have the houses of most savage tribes improved from, each as invariable as the nest of a species of bird? The tents of the Arab are the same now as they were two or three thousand years ago, and the mud villages of Egypt can scarcely have improved since the time of the Pharaohs. The palm leaf huts and hovels of the various tribes of South America and the Mele archipelago, what have they improved from since those regions were first inhabited? The Patagonians' rude shelter of leaves, the hallowed bank of the South African earthmen, we cannot even conceive to have been ever inferior to what they now are. Even nearer home, the Irish turf cabin and the Highland Stone Shelty can hardly have advanced much during the last two thousand years. Now no one imputes this stationary condition of domestic architecture among these savage tribes to instinct, but to simple imitation from one generation to another, and the absence of any sufficiently powerful stimulus to change or improvement. No one imagines that if an infant Arab could be transferred to Patagonia or to the Highlands, it would when it grew up astonish its foster parents by constructing a tent of skins. On the other hand, it is quite clear that physical conditions, combined with a degree of civilization arrived at, almost necessitate certain types of structure. The turf or stones or snow, the palm leaves, bamboo, or branches, which are the materials of houses in various countries, are used because nothing else is so readily to be obtained. The Egyptian peasant has none of these, not even wood. What then can he use but mud? In tropical forest countries, the bamboo and the broad palm leaves are the natural material for houses, and the form and motive structure will be decided in part by the nature of the country, whether hot or cool, whether swampy or dry, whether rocky or plain, whether frequented by wild beasts, or whether subject to attacks of enemies. When one particular motive building has been adopted and has been confirmed by habit and by hereditary custom, it will be long retained, even when its utility has been lost through changed conditions or through migration into a very different region. As a general rule, throughout the whole continent of America, native houses are built directly upon the ground, strength and security being given by thickening the low walls and the roof. In almost the whole of the Melei Islands, on the contrary, the houses are raised on post, often to a great height, with an open bamboo floor, and the whole structure is exceedingly slight and thin. Now what can be the reason of this remarkable difference between countries, many parts of which are strikingly similar in physical conditions, natural productions, and the state of civilization of their inhabitants? We appear to have some clue to it in the supposed origin and migrations of their respective populations. The indigens of tropical America are believed to have immigrated from the north, from a country where the winters are severe, and raised houses with open floors would be hardly habitable. They moved southwards by land through the mountain ranges and uplands, and in an altered climate continued the mode of construction of their forefathers, modified only by the new materials they met with. By minute observations of the Indians of the Amazon Valley, Mr. Bates arrived at the conclusion that they were comparatively recent immigrants from a colder climate. He says, "'No one could live long among the Indians of the upper Amazon, without being struck with their constitutional dislike to the heat. Their skin is hot to the touch, and they perspire little. They are restless and discontented in hot dry weather, but cheerful on cool days when the rain is pouring down their naked backs." And after giving many other details, he concludes, "'How different all this is with the Negro, the true child of tropical climes. The impression gradually forced itself on my mind that the red Indian lives as an immigrant or stranger in these hot regions, and that his constitution was not originally adapted, and has not since become perfectly adapted to the climate. The Mele races, on the other hand, are no doubt very ancient inhabitants of the hottest regions, and are particularly addicted to forming their first settlements at the mouths of rivers or creeks, and in landlocked bays and inlets. They are a preeminently maritime or semi-aquatic people to whom a canoe is a necessary of life, and who will never travel by land if they can do so by water. In accordance with these tastes they have built their houses on posts in the water, after the manner of the lake dwellers of ancient Europe, and this mode of construction has become so confirmed that even those tribes who have spread far into the interior on dry plains and rocky mountains continue to build in exactly the same manner and find safety in the height to which they elevate their dwellings above the ground. Why does each bird build a particular kind of nest? These general characteristics of the abode of savage man will be found to be exactly paralleled by the nests of birds. Each species uses the materials it can most readily obtain, and builds in situations most congenial to its habits. The Wren, for example, frequenting hedgerows and low-thickets, builds its nest generally of moss, a material always found where it lives, and among which it probably obtains much of its insect food, but it varies sometimes using hay or feathers when these are at hand. Rooks dig in pastures and plowed fields for grubs, and in doing so must continually encounter roots and fibers. These are used to line its nest. What more natural? The crow feeding on carrion, dead rabbits and lambs, and frequenting sheep walks and warrens chooses fur and wool to line its nest. The lark frequents cultivated fields and makes its nest on the ground of grass lined with horsehair, materials the most easy to meet with, and the best adapted to its needs. The kingfisher makes its nest of the bones of the fish which it has eaten. Swallows use clay and mud from the margins of the ponds and rivers over which they find their insect food. The materials of birds' nests, like those used by savage man for his house, are then those which come first to hand, and it certainly requires no more special instinct to select them in one case than in the other. But it will be said it is not so much the materials as the form and structure of nests that vary so much and are so wonderfully adapted to the wants and habits of each species. How are these to be accounted for except by instinct? I reply they may be in a great measure explained by the general habits of the species, the nature of the tools they have to work with, and the materials they can most easily obtain, with the very simplest adaptations of means to an end, quite within the mental capacities of birds. The delicacy and perfection of the nest will bear a direct relation to the size of the bird, its structure, and habits. That of the wren or the hummingbird is perhaps not finer or more beautiful in proportion than that of the blackbird, the magpie, or the crow. The wren, having a slender beak, long legs, and great activity, is able with great ease to form a well-woven nest of the finest materials, and places it in thickets and hedgerows which it frequents in its search for food. The titmouse, haunting fruit trees and walls, and searching in cracks and crannies for insects, is naturally led to build in holes where it has shelter and security, while its great activity and the perfection of its tools, bill and feet, enable it readily to form a beautiful receptacle for its eggs and young. Pigeons having heavy bodies and weak feet and bills, imperfect tools for forming a delicate structure, build rude flat nests of sticks, laid across strong branches which will bear their weight in that of their bulky young. They can do no better. The Capromuljaday have the most imperfect tools of all, feet that will not support them except on a flat surface, for they cannot truly perch, and they bill excessively broad, short, and weak, and almost hidden by feathers and bristles. They cannot build a nest of twigs, or fibers, hair, or moths, like other birds, and they therefore generally dispense with one altogether, laying their eggs on the bare ground, or on the stump or flat limb of a tree. The clumsy, hooked bills, short necks and feet, and heavy bodies of parrots render them quite incapable of building a nest like most other birds. They cannot climb up a branch without using both bill and feet. They cannot even turn round on a perch without holding on with their bill. How then could they inlay or weave or twist the materials of a nest? Consequently, they all lay in holes of trees, the tops of fraught and stumps, or in deserted ants' nest, the soft materials of which they can easily hollow out. Many turns and sandpipers lay their eggs on the bare sand of the seashore, and no doubt the Duke of Argyle is correct when he says that the cause of this habit is not that they are unable to form a nest, but that in such situations any nest would be conspicuous and lead to the discovery of the eggs. The choice of place is, however, evidently determined by the habits of the birds, who, in their daily search for food, are continually roaming over extensive tide-wash flats. Gulls vary considerably in their mode of nesting, but it is always in accordance with their structure and habits. The situation is either on a bare rock or on ledges of sea-cliffs in marshes or on weedy shores. The materials are seaweed, tufts of grass or rushes, or the debris of the shore, heaped together with as little order and constructive art as might be expected from the web-feet and clumsy bill of these birds, the latter better adapted for seizing fish than for forming a delicate nest. The long-legged, broad-billed flamingo, who is continually stalking over muddy flats in search of food, heaps up the mud into a conical stool, on the top of which it lays its eggs. The bird can thus sit on them conveniently, and they are kept dry out of the reach of the tides. Now I believe that throughout the whole class of birds the same general principles will be found to hold good, sometimes distinctly, sometimes more obscurely apparent, according as the habits of the species are more marked, or their structure more peculiar. It is true that, among birds differing but little in structure or habits, we see considerable diversity in the mode of nesting, but we are now so well assured that important changes of climate and of surface have occurred within the period of existing species that it is by no means difficult to see how such differences have arisen. Simple habits are known to be hereditary, and as the area now occupied by each species is different from that of every other, we may be sure that such changes would act differently upon each, and would often bring together species which had acquired their peculiar habits in distinct regions and under different conditions. How do young birds learn to build their first nest? But it is objected, birds do not learn to make their nests, as man does to build, for all birds will make exactly the same nest as the rest of their species, even if they have never seen one, and it is instinct alone that can enable them to do this. No doubt this would be instinct if it were true, and I simply ask for proof of the fact. This point, although so important to the question at issue, is always assumed without proof, and even against proof, for what facts there are are opposed to it. Birds brought up from the egg in cages do not make the characteristic nest of their species, even though the proper materials are supplied them, and often make no nest at all, but rudely heap together a quantity of materials, and the experiment has never been fairly tried of turning out a pair of birds so brought up into an enclosure covered with netting and watching the result of their untold attempts at nest-making. With regard to the songs of birds, however, which is thought to be equally instinctive, the experiment has been tried, and it is found that young birds never have the song peculiar to their species if they have not heard it, whereas they acquire very easily the song of almost any other bird with which they are associated. Do Birds Sing by Instinct or by Imitation? The honourable Danes Barrington was of the opinion that, notes in birds are no more innate than language is in man, and depend entirely on the master under which they are bred, as far as their organs will enable them to imitate the sounds which they have frequent opportunities of hearing. He has given an account of his experiments in the Philosophical Transactions for 1773, Volume 63. He says, I have educated nestling linets under the three best singing larks, the Skylark, Woodlark, and Titlark, every one of which, instead of the linets song, adhered entirely to that of their respective instructors. When the note of the Titlark linet was thoroughly fixed, I hung the bird in a room with two common linets for a quarter of a year, which were in full song. The Titlark linet, however, did not borrow any passage from the linets song, but adhered steadfastly to that of the Titlark. He then goes on to say that birds taken from the nest at two or three weeks old have already learnt the call note of their species. To prevent this, the birds must be taken from the nest when a day or two old, and he gives an account of a gold finch which he saw at night in in Radnirshire, and which sang exactly like a wren without any portion of the proper note of its species. This bird had been taken from the nest at two or three days old, and had been hung at a window opposite a small garden, where it had undoubtedly acquired the notes of the wren without having any opportunity of learning even the call of the gold finch. He also saw a linet which had been taken from the nest when only two or three days old, and which, not having any other sounds to imitate, had learnt almost to articulate and could repeat the words Pretty Boy and some other short sentences. Another linet was educated by himself under a vengalina, a small African finch which he says sings better than any foreign bird but the American mockingbird, and it imitated its African master so exactly that it was impossible to distinguish the one from the other. Still more extraordinary was the case of a common house sparrow which only chirps in a wild state but which learnt the song of the linet and gold finch by being brought up near those birds. The Reverend W. H. Herbert made similar observations and states that the young winchat and wheat ear, which have naturally little variety of song, are ready in confinement to learn from other species and become much better songsters. The bull finch, whose natural notes are weak, harsh, and insignificant, has nevertheless a wonderful musical faculty since it can be taught to whistle complete tunes. The nightingale, on the other hand, whose natural song is so beautiful, is exceedingly apt in confinement to learn that of other birds instead. Beckstein gives an account of a redstart which had built under the eaves of his house which imitated the song of a caged chaffinch in a window underneath, while another in his neighbor's garden repeated some of the notes of a blackcap which had a nest close by. These facts, and many others which may be quoted, render it certain that the peculiar notes of birds are acquired by imitation as surely as a child learns English or French, not by instinct, but by hearing the language spoken by its parents. It is especially worthy of remark that, for young birds to acquire a new song correctly, they must be taken out of hearing of their parents very soon, for in the first three or four days they have already acquired some knowledge of the parent notes which they will afterwards imitate. This shows that very young birds can both hear and remember, and it would be very extraordinary if, after they could see, they could neither observe nor recollect, and could live for days and weeks in a nest and know nothing of its materials and the manner of its construction. During the time they are learning to fly and return off into the nest, they must be able to examine it inside and out in every detail, and as we have seen that their daily search for food invariably leads them among the materials of which it is constructed, and among places similar to that in which it is placed, is it so very wonderful that when they want one themselves, they should make one like it? How else, in fact, should they make it? Would it not be much more remarkable if they went out of the way to get materials quite different from those used in the parent nest? If they arranged them in a way they had seen no example of, and formed the whole structure differently from that in which they themselves were reared? And which we may fairly presume is that which their whole organization is best adapted to put together with celerity and ease? It has, however, been objected that observation, imitation, or memory, can have nothing to do with a bird's architectural powers, because the young birds, which in England are born in May or June, will proceed in the following April or May to build a nest as perfect and as beautiful as that in which it was hatched, although it could never have seen one built. But surely the young birds, before they left the nest, had ample opportunities of observing its form, its size, its position, the materials of which it was constructed, and the manner in which those materials were arranged. Memory would retain these observations till the following spring, when the materials would come in their way during their daily search for food, and it seems highly probable that the older birds would begin building first, and that those born the preceding summer would follow their example, learning from them how the foundations of the nest are laid and the materials put together. Again we have no right to assume that young birds generally pair together. It seems probable that in each pair there is most frequently only one bird born the preceding summer, who would be guided to some extent by its partner. My friend, Mr. Richard Spruce, the well-known traveller in Botanus, thinks this is the case, and has kindly allowed me to publish the following observations, which he sent me after reading my book. How Young Birds May Learn to Build Nests Among the Indians of Peru and Ecuador, many of whose customs are relics of the semi-civilization that prevailed before the Spanish conquest. It is usual for the young men to marry old women, and the young women, old men. A young man, they say, accustomed to be tended by his mother, would fare ill if he had only an ignorant young girl to take care of him. And the girl herself would be better off with a man of mature years, capable of supplying the place of a father to her. Something like this custom prevails among many girls. A stout old buck can generally fight his way to the doe of his choice, and indeed of as many does as he can manage, but a young buck of his first horns must either content himself with celibacy or with some dame well stricken in years. Compare the near-parallel case of the domestic cock and of many other birds, then consider the consequences amongst birds that pair, if an old cock sorts with a young hen and an old hen with a young cock, as I think is certainly the case with blackbirds and others that are known to fight for the youngest and handsomest females. One of each pair, being already an old bird, will be competent to instruct its younger partner, not in the futility of chaff but in the selection of a site for a nest and how to build it, then how the eggs are hatched and young birds reared. Such in brief is my idea of how a bird on its first espousals may be taught the whole duty of the married state. On this difficult point I have sought for information from some of our best field or ethologist, but without success, as it is in most cases impossible to distinguish old from young birds after the first year. I am informed, however, that the males of blackbirds, sparrows, and many other kinds fight furiously, and the conqueror, of course, has the choice of a mate. Mr. Spruce's view is at least as probable as the contrary one, that young birds as a rule pair together, and it is to some extent supported by the celebrated American observer, Wilson, who strongly insists on the variety in the nests of birds of the same species, some being so much better finished than others, and he believes that the less perfect nests are built by the younger, the more perfect by the older birds. At all events, till the crucial experiment is made, and a pair of birds raised from the egg without ever seeing a nest are shown to be capable of making one exactly of the parental type. I do not think we are justified in calling in the aid of an unknown and mysterious faculty to do that which is strictly analogous to the house-building of savage man. Again, we always assume that because a nest appears to us delicately and artfully built, that it therefore requires much special knowledge and acquired skill, or their substitute, instinct, in the bird who builds it. We forget that it is formed twig by twig and fiber by fiber, rudely enough at first, but crevices and irregularities which must seem huge gaps and chasms in the eyes of the little builders are filled up by twigs and stalks pushed in by slender beak and active foot, and that the wool, feathers, or horse hair are laid thread by thread, so that the result seems a marvel of ingenuity to us, just as would the rudest eon and hut to a native of Brobdenag. The valent has given an account of the process of nest-building by a little African warbler which sufficiently shows that a very beautiful structure may be produced with very little art. The foundation was laid of moss and flax, interwoven with grass and tufts of cotton, and presented a rude mass, five or six inches in diameter and four inches thick. This was pressed and trampled down repeatedly, so as at last to make it into a kind of felt. The birds pressed it with their bodies, turning round upon them in every direction, so as to get it quite firm and smooth before raising the sides. These were added bit by bit, trimmed and beaten with the wings and feet, so as to felt the hole together, projecting fibers being now and then worked in with the bill. By these simple and apparently inefficient means, the inner surface of the nest was rendered almost as smooth and compact as a piece of cloth. Man's works, mainly imitative. But look at civilized man, it is said. Look at Grecian and Egyptian and Roman and Gothic and modern architecture. What advance? What improvement? What refinements? This is what reason leads to, whereas birds remain forever stationary. If however such advances as these are required, to prove the effects of reason as contrasted with instinct, then all savage and many half civilized tribes have no reason, but build instinctively quite as much as birds do. Man ranges over the whole earth and exists under the most varied conditions, leading necessarily to equally varied habits. He migrates. He makes wars and conquests. One race mingles with another. Different customs are brought into contact. The habits of a migrating or conquering race are modified by the different circumstances of a new country. The civilized race which conquered Egypt must have developed its mode of building in a forest country where timber was abundant. For it is not probable that the idea of cylindrical columns originated in a country destitute of trees. The pyramids might have been built by an indigenous race, but not the temples of El Aksor and Karnak. In Grecian architecture almost every characteristic feature can be traced to an origin in wooden buildings. The columns, the architrave, the frez, the filets, the cantilevers, the form of the roof all point to an origin in some southern forest clad country and strikingly corroborate the view derived from philogy that Greece was colonized from northwestern India. But to erect columns and span them with huge blocks of stone or marble is not an act of reason, but one of pure unreasoning imitation. The arch is the only true and reasonable mode of covering over wide spaces with stone and therefore Grecian architecture, however exquisitely beautiful, is false in principle and is by no means a good example of the application of reason to the art of building. And what do most of us do at the present day but imitate the buildings of those that have gone before us? We have never been able to discover or develop any definite style of building best suited for us. We have no characteristic national style of architecture and to that extent are even below the birds who have each their characteristic form of nest exactly adapted to their wants and habits. Birds do alter and improve their nests when altered conditions require it. The great uniformity in the architecture of each species of bird which has been supposed to prove a nest building instinct we may therefore fairly impute to the uniformity of the conditions under which each species lives. Their range is often very limited and they very seldom permanently change their country so as to be placed in new conditions. When however new conditions do occur they take advantage of them just as freely and wisely as man could do. The chimney and house swallows are a standing proof of a change of habit since chimneys and houses were built and in America this change has taken place within about 300 years. Thread and worsted are now used in many nests instead of wool and horse hair and the jackdaw shows an affection for the church steeple which can hardly be explained by instinct. In the more thickly populated parts of the United States the Baltimore Oriole uses all sorts of pieces of string, skeins of silk or the gardeners bass to weave into its fine pencil nest instead of the single hairs and vegetable fibers it has painfully to seek in wilder regions. And Wilson a most careful observer believes that it improves in nest building by practice the older birds making the best nests. The purple martin takes possession of empty gourds or small boxes stuck up for its reception in almost every village and farm in America and several of the American rents will also build in cigar boxes with a small hole cut in them if placed in a suitable situation. The orchard Oriole of the United States offers us an excellent example of a bird which modifies its nest according to circumstances. When built among firm and stiff branches the nest is very shallow but if as is often the case it is suspended from the slender twigs of the weaving willow it is made much deeper so that when swayed about violently by the wind the young may not tumble out. It has been observed also that the nest built in the warm southern states are much slider and more porous in texture than those in the colder regions of the north. Our own house sparrow equally well adapts himself to circumstances. When he builds in trees as he no doubt always did originally he constructs a well-made domed nest perfectly fitted to protect his young ones but when he can find a convenient hole in a building or among thatch or in any well sheltered place he takes much less trouble and forms a very loosely built nest. A curious example of a recent change of habits has occurred in Jamaica previous to 1854 the palm swift took cornice, feinacobia inhabited exclusively the palm trees in a few districts in the island. A colony then established themselves into coconut palms in Spanish town and remained there till 1857 when one tree was blown down and the other stripped of its foliage. Instead of now seeking out other palm trees the swifts drove out the swallows who built in the Piazza of the House of Assembly and took possession of it building their nests on the tops of the end walls and at the angles formed by the beams and joists. A place which they continue to occupy in considerable numbers. It is remarked here that they form their nests with much less elaboration than when built in the palms probably from being less exposed. A still more curious example of change and improvement in nest building was published by Mr. F.A. Pouchet in the tenth number of the Conte Rendue for 1870 just as the first edition of this work appeared. Forty years ago, Monsieur Pouchet had himself collected nests of the House Martin, or Window Swallow, Herundu, Urbaca from old buildings at Rouen and deposited them in the museum of that city. On recently obtaining some more nests he was surprised on comparing them with the old ones to find that they exhibited a decided change of form and structure. This led him to investigate the matter more closely. The changed nests had been obtained from houses in a newly erected quarter of the city and he found that all the nests in the newly built streets were of the new form. But on visiting the churches and older buildings and some rocks where these birds build, he found many nests of the old type along with some of the new pattern. He then examined all the figures and descriptions of the older naturalists and found that they invariably represented the older form only. The difference between the two forms he states to be as follows. In the old form the nest is a portion of a globe. When situated in the upper angle of a window, one fourth of a hemisphere and the opening is very small and circular, being of a size just sufficient to allow the body of the bird to pass. In the new form the nest is much wider in proportion to its height, being a segment of a depressed feroid and the aperture is very wide and shallow and close to the horizontal surface to which the nest is attached above. Michaud Prouchet thinks that the new form is an undoubted improvement on the old. The nest has a wider bottom and must allow the young ones to have more freedom of motion than in the old, narrower and deeper nests and its wide aperture allows the young birds to peep out and breathe the fresh air. This is so wide as to serve as a sort of balcony for them and two young ones can often be seen on it without interfering with the passage in and out of the old birds. At the same time by being so close to the roof it is a better protection against rain, against cold and against enemies than the small round hole of the old nests. Here then we have an improvement in nest building as well marked as any improvement that takes place in human dwellings in so short a time. But perfection of structure and adaptation to purpose are not universal characteristics of bird's nests since there are decided imperfections in the nesting of many birds which are quite compatible with our present theory but are hardly so without of instinct which is supposed to be infallible. The passenger pigeon of America often crowds the branches with its nest till they break and the ground is strewn with shattered nests, eggs and young birds. Rook's nests are often so imperfect that during high winds the eggs fall out. But the window swallow is the most unfortunate in this respect for white of cell-borne informs us that he has seen them build year after year in places where their nests are liable to be washed away by a heavy rain and their young ones destroyed. Conclusion. A fair consideration of all these facts will, I think, fully support the statement with which I commenced and show that the mental faculties exhibited by birds in the construction of their nests are the same in kind as those manifested by mankind in the formation of their dwellings. These are essentially imitation and a slow and partial adaptation to new conditions. To compare the work of birds with the highest manifestations of human art and science is totally beside the question. I do not maintain that birds are gifted with reasoning faculties at all approaching in variety and extent to those of man. I simply hold that the phenomena presented by their mode of building their nests, when fairly compared with those exhibited by the great mass of mankind in building their houses, indicate no essential difference in the kind or nature of the mental faculties employed. If instinct means anything, it means the capacity to form some complex act without teaching or experience. It implies innate ideas of a very definite kind and, if established, would overthrow Mr. Mille's sensationalism and all the modern philosophy of experience, that the existence of true instinct may be established in other cases is not impossible, but in the particular instance of bird's nest, which is usually considered one of its strongholds, I cannot find a particle of evidence to show the existence of anything beyond those low reasoning and imitative powers which animals are universally admitted to possess. End of the Philosophy of Birds Nests by Alfred Russell Wallace. Literary Blunders Chapter 7 School Boy's Blunders This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The blunders of the examined form a fruitful source of amusement for us all and many comical instances have been published. The mistakes which are constantly occurring must naturally be innumerable, but only a few of them rise to the dignity of a blunder. If it be difficult to define a blunder, probably the best illustration of what will be found is in the answers of the boys under examination. All classes of blunders may be found among these. There are those which show confusion of knowledge and those which exhibit an insight into the heart of the matter while blundering in the form. Two very good examples occur to one's mind, but it is to be feared that they owe their origin to some keen spirit of mature years. The quality by which we are unable to believe that which we know is untrue. Surely this must have emanated from a wit. Again, the whole Homeric question is condensed into the following answer. Some people say that the Homeric poems were not written by Homer, but by another man of the same name. If this is a blunder, who would not wish to blunder so? A large class of schoolboys blunders consist in a confusion of words, somewhat alike in sound, a confusion that is apt to follow some of us through life. Mattens has been mixed up with patterns and described as something to wear on the feet. Nonconformists are said to be persons who cannot form anything and a tartan is assumed to be an inhabitant of tartary. The gods are believed by one boy to live on nectarines and by another to imbibe ammonia. The same desire is to make an unintelligible word express a meaning, which has caused the recognized but absurd spelling of sovereign, more wisely spelled S-O-V-R-A-N, by Milton, shows itself in the form T-Tarak, explained as the title of Herod, given to him because he invented or was fond of tea. A still finer confusion of ideas is to be found in an answer reported by Miss Graham in the university correspondent. Esau was a man who wrote fables and who sold the copyright to a publisher for a bottle of potash. The following etymological guesses are not so good, but they're worthy of registration. One boy described a black guard as one who has been a shoe black, while another thought he was a man dressed in black. Polite is said to be derived from pole owing to the affability of the Polish race. He then means covered with heath, but this explanation is commonplace when compared with the brilliant guess, heathen from Latin, he, zoom, faith, and in not. The boy who explained the meaning of the words fort and fortress must have had a rather vague ideas as to masculine and feminine nouns. He wrote a fort as a place to put men in and a fortress a place to put women in. A little book entitled English as She Is Taught, which contains a considerable number of genuine answers to examination questions given in American schools with a commentary by Mark Twain is full of amusing manner. A large proportion of these answers are of a similar character to those just enumerated, blunders which have arisen from a confusion caused by similarity of sound in the various words. Thus, in Austria, the principal occupation is gathering ostrich feathers. The boy who propounded this evidently had much of the stock and trade required for the popular etymologist. Ireland is called the immigrant isle because it is so beautiful and green. Guerrilla warfare was where men rode on guerrillas. The Puritans found an insane asylum in the wilds of America. Some of the answers are so funny that it is almost impossible to guess at the train of thought which elicited them as climate lasts all the time and weather only a few days. Sanskrit is not used so much as it used to be as it went out of use 1500 BC. The boy who affirmed the imports of a country are the things that are paid for, the exports are the things that are not, did not put the theory of exchange in very clear form. The knowledge of physiology and of medical subjects exhibited by some of the examined is very amusing. One boy discovered a new organ of the body called a crone. He had a chronic disease, something the matter with a crone. Another had a strange notion how to spell craniology for he wrote, chronology is the science of the brain. Brain spell the B-R-A-N-E. But best of all is the knowledge of the origin of Breit's disease shown by the boy who affirms that John Breit is noted for an incurable disease. Much of the blundering of the examine must be traced to the absurd questions of the examiners. Questions which, as Mark Twain says, would oversize nearly anybody's knowledge. And the wish which every examinee has to bring in some subject which he supposes himself to know is perceptible in many answers. The day 1492 seems to be impressed upon every American child's memory, and he cannot rest until he is associated with some fact. So he learned that George Washington was born in 1492, that St. Bartholomew was massacred in that year, that the Britons were the Saxons who entered England in 1492 under Julius Caesar, and to cap all that, the earth is 1492 miles in circumference. Many of the best known examination jokes are associated with scriptural characters. One of the best of these, if also one of the best known, is that of the man who paraphrasing the parable of the Good Samaritan, and quoting his words to the innkeeper. "'When I come again, I will repay you,' added this he said, knowing that he should see his face again no more. A school board boy competing for one of the peak prizes carried this confusion of widely different events even further. He had to ride a short biography of Jonah, and he produced the following. He was the father of Lot and had two wives. One was called Ishmael and the other Hagar. He kept one at home and he turned the other into the desert when she became a pillow of salt in the daytime and a pillow of fire at night. The sketch of Moses is equally unhistoric. Moses was an Egyptian. He lived in an ark made of bullrushes and he kept the golden calf and worship brazen snakes and et nothing but quails and manna for 40 years. He was caught by the hair of his head while riding under the bow of a tree and he was killed by his son Absalom as he was hanging from the bow. But the ignorance of the school boy was quite equal by the undergraduate who was asked who was the first king of Israel and was so fortunate as to stumble on the name of Saul. Finding by the face of the examiner that he'd upon the right answer he added confidentially, Saul also called Paul. The American child however managed to cover a larger space if time in his confusion when he said, Elijah was a good man who went up to heaven without dying and threw his cloak down for Queen Elizabeth to step over. A boy was asked in an examination what did Moses do with the tabernacle and he promptly answered, he chucked it out of the camp. The scandalized examiner asked the boy what he meant and was told that it was so stated in the Bible. On being challenged for the verse, the boy at once repeated and Moses took the tabernacle and pitched it without the camp. The book might be filled with extraordinary instances of school translation but room must be found for one beautiful specimen quoted by Moore in his diary. A boy having to translate, they ascended by ladders into Latin turned out this, ascendement for adolescent tenories, the comparative degree of lad. The late Mr. Barrett, musical examiner to the Society of Arts gave some curious instances of blundering in his report on the examinations of 1887 which is printed in the program of the society's examinations for 1888. There were occasional indications that the terms were misunderstood. Presto signifies turnover, lent hope with style, staccato was said to mean stick on the notes or notes struck and at once raised. The names of composers in order of time were generally correctly done but the particulars concerning the musicians were rather startling. Thus Purcell was said to have written among other things an opera called Edba and Ineus. One stated that he was born in 1543 and died in 1595, probably confusing him with Talas, that he wrote masses and reformed the church, others that he was the organist of King's College Chapel and wrote madrigals. One stated that he was born in 1568 and died in 1695. Another not knowing that he had so long passed the allotted period of man's existence gave his date 1693 to 1685, thus giving him no limit of existence at all. One said he was a German, born somewhere in the 19th century which statement another confirmed by giving his date says 1817 to 1846 and further credited him with the composition of The Woman of Samaria and as having transposed plain song from tenor to bass. Bach is said to have been the founder of the same school, the composer of The Seasons, the celebrated writer of opera comic and having gone through an operation for one of his fingers turned his attention to composition, wrote operas and lastly that he was born in 1756 and died in 1880 and that his fame rests on his passions. The facts about Handel are pretty correct but we find that Weber wrote Parsifal, the Flying Dutchman, Der Ring, Der Nubigan, his dates 1813 to 1883, Mendelssohn was born in 1770 and died in 1827, Beethoven's dates. Studied under Haydn and that he composed many operas, Gunard is said to be a rather modern musician, he wrote Artello, Three Holy Children, besides Faust and other works. Among the names given as the composer, a Nozelle de Figaro, Ardonizetti, William Sterndale, Bennett, Gunard, Sir Michael Costa. The particulars concerning the real composer are equally interesting. His real name is spelled Mosard, M-O-Z-Z-A-R-T, Mosard, M-O-S-A-R-D-E, et cetera. He was a well-known Italian, wrote media and others. His first opera was Idomia or Idomio. He composed Leder Unrote, Don Fasquale, Don Giovanni, the Zabberflout, Cubes and his Requiem and it is crowning glory of his marvelous career, C-A-R-E-R-E. He was a German born 1756 at a very early age. If the dates given by another writer be true, born 1795, died 1659, it is certain that he must have died before he was born. Mr. Barrett again reported in 1889 of some of the strange opinions of those that came to him to be examined. The answers to the question, who was Rossini? What influence did he exercise over the art of music in his time? Brought to light much curious and interesting intelligence. His nationality was various. He was a German by birth, but was born at Pizarro in Italy. He was born in 1670 and died in 1826. He was a Frenchman, an altered writer of the French. The place of nativity was Pizarro in Genoa. He was an Italian and made people feel drunk with the sparks and richness of his melody. He composed Oberon, Don Giovanni, D'Fres, Stabat Mater. He was an accomplished writer of violin music and produced some of the prettiest melodies. It is to him we owe the extension of chords struck together in our Pescio. He was the founder of some institution or another. The great aim of his life was to make the music he wrote an interpretation of the words it was set to. He broke many of the laws of music. He considerable altered the stage. He was noted for using many instruments not invented before. In his composition, he used the chromatic scale very much and goes very deep into harmony. He was the first taking up the style and therefore to make great change in music. He was the cause of much censure and vickering through his writings. He promoted a less strict mode of writing and other beneficial things. And finally, Goccano Rossini was born at Pizarro in 1792. In the year 1774, there was a war raging in Paris between the Glucusts and the Thickenists. Gluc wanted to do away with the old restraint of the Italian aria and improve opera from a dramatic point of view. Bikini remained true to his old Italian style and Rossini helped him to carry it on still further by his operas. The child who gave the following brilliant answers to the questions, what was the character of Queen Mary must have suffered herself from the troubles supposed to be connected with the possession of a stepmother. She was willful as a girl and cruel as a woman but as the pupil. What can you expect from anyone who had five stepmothers? The greatest confusion among the examined is usually to be found in the answers to the historical and geographical questions. All that one boy knew about Nelson was that he was buried in St. Paul's Cathedral amid the groans of a dying nation. The student who mixed up Oliver Cromwell with Thomas Cromwell's Master Woolsey produced this strange answer. Oliver Cromwell is said to have exclaimed as he lay a dying, if I had served my God as I served my King, he would not have left me to my enemies. Miss Graham relates in the University Correspondent an answer which contains the same confusion with a further one added. Woolsey was the famous general who faulted in the Crimean War and who after being decapitated several times said to Cromwell, ah, if I had only served you as you have served me I would not have been deserted in my old age. The Spanish Armada wrote a young man of 17 who placed in the reign of Queen Anne. She married Philip of Spain and was a very cruel man. The Spanish and the English fought very bravely against each other. The English wanted to conquer Spain. Several battles were fought in which hundreds of the English and Spanish were defeated. They lost some very large ships and were at a great loss on both sides. The following description of the Nile by a schoolboy is very fine. The Nile is the only remarkable river in the world. It was discovered by Dr. Livingston and it rises in Mungo Park. Constantinople has described us. It is on the golden horn, a strong fortress, as a university and is the residence of Peter the Great. His teeth building is the sublime port. Amongst the additions to our geographical knowledge may be mentioned that Gibraltar is an island built on a rock and that Portrable can only be reached through the St. Bernard's Pass by means of sledges drawn by reindeer and dogs. Turin is the capital of China and Cuba is a town in Africa, very difficult to access. One of the finest answers ever given in an examination was that of the boy who was asked to repeat all he knew of Sir Walter Rolly. This was it. He introduced tobacco into England and while he was smoking he exclaimed, Master Ridley, we have this day lighted such a fire in England as shall never be put out. Can that, with any sort of justice, be styled a blunder? The rule that the king can do no wrong was carried to an extreme length when a schoolboy blunder, of whom the 14th was allowed to change the gender of a French noun. The king said on Carouse and that is what he is now. In Cutgrave's dictionary, Carouse appears as feminine, but Menage notes it is having been changed from feminine to masculine. It has already been pointed out that some of the blunders of the examiner are due to the absurdity of the questions of the examiner. The following excellent anecdote from the late Archdeacon Sinclair's sketches of old times in distant places, tells that even when the question is sound, a difficulty may arise by the manner of presenting it. I was one day conversing with Dr. Williams about schools and school examinations. He said, let me give you a curious example of an examination at which I was present in Aberdeen. An English clergyman and a Lowland Scotsman visited one of the best parish schools in that city. They were strangers, but the master received them civilly and inquired, would you prefer that I should spear these boys or that you should spear them yourselves? The English clergyman having ascertained that to spear meant to question, desired the master to proceed. He did so with great success and the boys answered numerous interrogatories as to the exodus from Egypt. The clergyman then added how he would be glad in his turn to spear the boys and began, how did Pharaoh die? There was a dead silence. In this dilemma, the Lowland Gentleman interposed, I think, sir, the boys are not accustomed to your English accent and he inquired in a broad scotch, who did Pharaoh die? Again, there was a dead silence till the master said, I think, gentlemen, you can't spear these boys. I'll show you how. And he proceeded, Fat Cam de Ferro, it is, hinder end in his latter days. The boys with one voice answered, he was drooned and a smart little fellow added. Only last he could have told you that. The master then explained that in the Aberdeen dialect, to de means to die an actual death or to die in bed, hence the perplexity of the boys who knew that Pharaoh's end was very different. The author is able to add to this chapter a thoroughly original series of answers to certain questions relating to acoustics, light and heat, which Professor Oliver Lodge has been so kind as to communicate for this work and which cannot fail to be appreciated by his readers. You must be understood that all these answers are genuine, although they are not given, verbatim et liturim. And in some instances one answer is made to contain several blunders. Professor Lodge expresses the opinion that the questions might in some instances have been worded better, so as to exclude several of the misapprehensions, and therefore that the answers may be of some service to future setters of questions. He adds that of late, the South Kensington papers have become more grirly correct and monotonous because the style of instruction now available affords less play to exuberant fancy untrammeled by any information regarding the subject at hand. End of chapter.