external stimuli it encounters in the course of a usual
life. Thus, under usual circumstances, it does the usual thing. Under
unusual circumstances it still does the usual thing, wherefore the
highhole perforating the ice-house is guilty of lunacy--of unreason, in
short. To do the unusual thing under unusual circumstances, successfully
to adjust to a strange environment for which his heredity has not
automatically fitted an adjustment, Mr. Burroughs says is impossible. He
says it is impossible because it would be a non-instinctive act, and, as
is well known animals act only through instinct. And right here we catch
a glimpse of Mr. Burroughs's cart standing before his horse. He has a
thesis, and though the heavens fall he will fit the facts to the thesis.
Agassiz, in his opposition to evolution, had a similar thesis, though
neither did he fit the facts to it nor did the heavens fall. Facts are
very disagreeable at times.

But let us see. Let us test Mr. Burroughs's test of reason and instinct.
When I was a small boy I had a dog named Rollo. According to Mr.
Burroughs, Rollo was an automaton, responding to external stimuli
mechanically as directed by his instincts. Now, as is well known, the
development of instinct in animals is a dreadfully slow process. There
is no known case of the development of a single instinct in domestic
animals in all the history of their domestication. Whatever instincts
they possess they brought with them from the wild thousands of years ago.
Therefore, all Rollo's actions were ganglionic discharges mechanically
determined by the instincts that had been developed and fixed in the
species thousands of years ago. Very well. It is clear, therefore, that
in all his play with me he would act in old-fashioned ways, adjusting
himself to the physical and psychical factors in his environment
according to the rules of adjustment which had obtained in the wild and
which had become part of his heredity.

Rollo and I did a great deal of rough romping. He chased me and I chased
him. He nipped my legs, arms, and hands, often so hard that I yelled,
while I rolled him and tumbled him and dragged him about, often so
strenuously as to make him yelp. In the course of the play many
variations arose. I would make believe to sit down and cry. All
repentance and anxiety, he would wag his tail and lick my face, whereupon
I would give him the laugh. He hated to be laughed at, and promptly he
would