hese have appeared in
mammals and birds, and that each one of these is a new spur to the
will. And the will of a horse or dog, to say nothing of a pig, is by
no means feeble. And these are slowly emancipating the animal from
the tyranny of appetite. But how slow the progress is! Has the
emancipation yet become complete in man? I need not answer.

The will has in part, at least, escaped from abject slavery to
appetite; it sometimes rises superior to fear. But it is evidently
self-centred. The animal may have forgotten the claims of his dead
ancestors, he is certainly fully alive to his own interests. Can he
even partially rise superior to prudential considerations, as he has
to some extent to the claims of appetite? Is it possible to develop
the unselfish out of the purely selfish? And if so, how is this to
be accomplished? It is not accomplished in the animal; it is but
very incompletely accomplished in man. It will be accomplished one
day.

In action, at least, the animal is not purely selfish. As Mr.
Drummond has shown, reproduction, that old function and first to
gain an organ, is not primarily for the benefit of self, but for the
species. And not only the storing up of material in the egg, but
care for the young after birth, is found in some fish and insects,
and increases from fish upward. I readily grant you that this in its
beginnings may be purely instinctive, and that not a particle of
genuine affection for the young may as yet be present in the mind of
the parent. But beneficial habits may, under the fostering care of
selection, develop into instincts. The animal may at first be
unconscious of these, and yet they may grow continually stronger.
But one day the animal awakens to its actions, and from that time on
what had been done blindly and unconsciously is continued
consciously, intelligently, and from set purpose. This story is
repeated over and over again in the history of the animal-kingdom.
The care for the young once started as an instinct, affection will
follow from the very association of parent with young. Certainly in
birds and mammals there seems to be a very genuine love of the
parents for their young. This is at first short lived, and the young
are and have to be driven away, often by harsh treatment, to shift
for themselves. But while it lasts it certainly seems entirely real
and genuine. And how strong it is. "A bear robbed of her whelps" is
no meaningless expression. And even the weak and t