We have come to one of the most important and difficult subjects of zoölogy. Let us distinctly recognize that it is not our task to explain the origin of mind, or even of a single mental faculty. I shall take for granted what many of you will not admit, that the germs of all man's highest mental powers are present undeveloped in the mind, if you will call it so, of the amoeba. The limits of this course of lectures have required us to choose between alternatives, either to attempt to prove the truth of the theory of evolution, or taking this for granted, to attempt to find its bearings on our moral and religious beliefs. I have chosen the latter course, and here, as elsewhere, will abide by it. I should not have followed such a course if I did not thoroughly believe that man also, in mind as well as body, is the product of evolution. But this is no reason for your accepting these views. You are asked only to judge impartially of the tendencies of the theory. We take for granted, I repeat, that all man's mental faculties are germinally, potentially, present in protoplasm; we seek the history of their development.
We must remember, further, that the science of animal or comparative psychology is yet in its infancy. Even reliable facts are only slowly being sifted and recorded in sufficient numbers to make deductions at all safe. And even of these facts different writers give very different explanations. As Mr. Romanes has well said, "All our knowledge of mental faculties, other than our own, really consists of an inferential interpretation of bodily activities--this interpretation being founded on our subjective knowledge of our own mental activities. By inference we project, as it were, the human pattern of our own mental chromograph on what is to us the otherwise blank screen of another mind." The value and clearness of our inferences will be proportional to the similarity of the animal to ourselves. Thus we can educate many of our higher mammals by a system of rewards and punishments, and we seem therefore to have good reason to believe that fear and joy, anger and desire, certain powers of perception and inference, are in their minds similar to our own. But fear in a fish is certainly a much dimmer apprehension of danger than in us, even if it deserves the name of apprehension. And the mental state which we call "alarm" in a fly or any lower animal is very difficult to clearly imagine or at all express in terms of our own mind.