again on the 11th December, but with these two exceptions, the whole of the supplies were carried in by Nos. 5 and 6, with a little help from No. 7. Thinking now it might be alleged that possibly these were merely unusually active and greedy individuals, I imprisoned No. 6, when she came out to feed on the 5th. As will be seen from the table, no other ant had been out to the honey for some days; and it could therefore hardly be accidental that on that very evening another ant (then registered as No. 9) came out for food. This ant then took the place of No. 6, and (No. 5 being imprisoned on the 11th January) took in all the supplies, again with a little help from No. 7. So matters continued till the 17th, when I imprisoned No. 9, and then again, i.e. on the 19th, another ant (No. 10) came out for the food, aided on and after the 22nd by another, No. 11. This seems to me very curious. From the 1st November to the 5th January, with two or three casual exceptions, the whole of the supplies were carried in by three ants, one of whom, however, did comparatively little. The other two were imprisoned, and then, but not till then, a fresh ant appeared on the scene. She carried in the food for a week, and then, she being imprisoned, two others undertook the task. On the other hand, in Nest 1, where the first foragers were not imprisoned, they continued during the whole time to carry the necessary supplies. The facts therefore certainly seem to indicate that certain ants are told off as foragers, and that during winter, when but little food is required, two or three are sufficient to provide it. I have already mentioned that while Lasius niger, the brown garden-ant, habitually makes use of the outof-door Aphides, the yellow meadow-ant keeps the underground kinds. M. Lespés even considered some communities of L. niger to be more advanced in civilization than others of the same species. He assures us that if he took specimens of their domestic beetles from one nest, and placed them in another, always, be it understood, of the same species, the beetles were attacked and eaten. I have not had the opportunity of repeating these experiments, but I have moved specimens of the blind woodlouse, Platyarthrus, from one nest to another, and even from nests of one species to those of another, and they were always amicably received. But whether there are differences in advancement within the limits of the same species or not, there are certainly considerable differences between the different species, and one may almost fancy that we can trace stages corresponding to the principal steps in the history of human development. I do not now refer to slave-making ants, which represent an abnormal, or perhaps only temporary, state of things, for slavery seems to lead in ants, as in men, to the degradation of those by whom it is adopted; and it is not impossible that the slave-making species will eventually find themselves unable to compete with those which are more self-dependent, and have reached a higher phase of civilization. But, putting these slavemaking ants on one side, we find in the different species of ants different conditions of life, curiously answering to the earlier stages of human progress. For instance, some species, such as Formica fusca, live principally on the produce of the chase; for though they feed partly on the honey-dew of Aphides, they have not domesticated their insects. These ants probably retain the habits once common to all ants. They resemble the lower races of men, who subsist mainly by hunting. Like them, they frequent woods and wilds, live in comparatively small communities, and the instincts of collective action are but little developed among them. They hunt singly, and their battles are single combats, like those of Homeric heroes. Such species as Lasius flavus represent a distinctly higher type of social life; they show more skill in architecture, may literally be said to have domesticated certain species of Aphides, and may be compared to the pastoral stage of human progress to the races which live on the produce of their flocks and herds. Their communities are more numerous, they act much more in concert, their battles are not mere single combats, but they know how to act in combination. I am disposed to hazard the conjecture that they will gradually exterminate the mere hunting species, just as savages disappear before more advanced races. Lastly, agricultural nations may be compared with harvesting ants. Thus, there seem to be three principal types, offering a curious analogy to the three great phases-the hunting, pastoral, and agricultural stages—in the history of human development. My experiments certainly seem to indicate the possėssion by ants of something approaching to language. It is impossible to doubt that the friends were brought out by the first ant, and as she returned empty-handed to the nest, the others cannot have been induced to follow her by merely observing her proceedings. In face of such facts as these, it is impossible not to ask ourselves, How far are ants merc exquisite automatons; how far are they conscious beings? When we see an ant-hill, tenanted by thousands of industrious inhabitants, excavating chambers, forming tunnels, making roads, guarding their home, gathering food, feeding the young, tending their domestic animals—each one fulfilling its duties industriously, and without confusion-it is difficult altogether to deny to them the gift of reason; and the preceding observations tend to confirm the opinion that their mental powers differ from those of men not so much in kind as in degree. Let me in conclusion once more say, that, notwithstanding the labours of those great naturalists to whom I gratefully referred in commencing, it seems to me that there are in natural history few more promising or extensive fields for research than the habits of ants. LECTURE V. INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF PREHISTORIC ARCHEOLOGY.1 PREHISTORIC ARCHEOLOGY has but lately made good its right to recognition as a branch of science; and still, perhaps, there are some who are disposed to question the claim. We can never, they say, become wise beyond what is written: ancient poems and histories contain all that we can ever know about old times and bygone races of men; by the study of antiquities we may often corroborate, and occasionally perhaps even correct, the statements of ancient writers, but beyond this we can never hope to penetrate. The ancient monuments and remains themselves may excite our interest, but can teach us nothing. This opinion is as old as the time of Horace: in one of his best known Odes he tells us that "Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona Multi; sed omnes illacrymabiles Nocte, carent quia vate sacro." 1 I have discussed the Antiquity of Man, and his primitive condition in its more material aspects, at greater length in my work on Prehistoric Times, and have endeavoured to trace up the course of his social and moral development in a second, On the Origin of Civilization. |