Now, here the inherited tendency to peck at small objects led, through the drawing down of the paper, to a new situation, of which advantage was taken. The little drama consisted of two scenes, which may be sufficiently described as “the corner of the pen,” and “the open way,” this being the sequence in experience. Subsequently the first scene was again enacted in presentative terms, and there followed first a re-presentation of scene ii., with its associated behaviour, and then the presentative repetition of this scene. We may take this as a sample of the nature of a conscious situation which is effective in guidance. We have seen the nature of the elements (sensory data, including as essential those supplied by the behaviour itself, with a pleasurable or painful tone) which enter into such a situation; we have seen that they owe their primary origin to direct presentation, but that they may be subsequently introduced indirectly in re-presentative form; we have seen that the situation as a whole results from the coalescence of the data. There only remains the question how the felt situation takes effect on behaviour. And to this question, unfortunately, we can give but a meagre and incomplete reply. All we can say is, that connections seem to be in some way established between the centres of conscious control and the centres of congenital response; and that through these channels the responsive behaviour may be either checked or augmented (as a whole or in part), according to the tone, disagreeable or pleasant, that suffuses the situation. How this is effected we do not fully know.
Some surprise may be felt that in our brief discussion of the early stages of mental development nothing has been said of percepts and concepts, nothing of abstraction or generalization. The omission is not only due to a desire to avoid the subtle technicalities of psychological nomenclature. It is partly due to the wish not to forejudge a difficult question of interpretation. Spirited passages of arms from time to time take place between psychologists in opposing camps, as to whether animals are or are not capable of forming abstract and general ideas; and untrained camp followers hang on the skirts of the fray, making a good deal of noise with blank-cartridge. The question at issue turns partly on the definitions of technical terms; partly, when there is agreement on this point, on the interpretation to be put on certain modes of behaviour. Nothing seems at first sight much easier than to say what we mean by an abstract idea or by a general idea. We are thinking about colour, which is both abstract and general--abstract, because in itself it is a special quality of visible objects floated off, so to speak, from other qualities, such as hardness and weight, shape and size; general, because it includes many different colours in one group. Looking up at the bookshelves, we see a volume with a red back. We neglect the shape, the contents, the lettering; it is the colour with which we are immediately concerned, which forms an important feature in the present thought-situation; and this is, in virtue of that situation, abstracted from the rest. But a chick a few days old may have acquired experience of several kinds of caterpillars much alike in shape and size; of which, one kind is ringed with orange and black. And while the others are eagerly seized, caterpillars of this kind are left untouched. It is not the size or the shape which is an effective element in the situation; it is the peculiar coloration of the cinnabar caterpillars. Now, does the effectiveness of this quality in the stimulus justify the inference that the chick forms an abstract idea of colour? That clearly depends on our definition of abstract idea, and on our inferences concerning the nature of the chick’s mind.