An Introduction to Comparative Psychology
Chapter 17: Subject and Object
C. Lloyd Morgan
IT is not my intention to attempt in this work any detailed account of the steps by which the faculty of conception, applying its nascent power of analysis and synthesis to the data of sense-experience, impressional and transitional, may have gradually built up a scientific and philosophical interpretation of the world in which we live. The process has been a gradual one, involving several factors. How language would aid in this process I have already briefly indicated. If once, for example, the word "shining " or its equivalent is made symbolic of the conception of a particular quality exhibited by some individual visible object, it forthwith becomes also an instrument both of analysis and of synthesis. Of analysis, because it serves to detach the special quality from other qualities invariably associated with it in experience ; of synthesis, because it serves as a centre of aggregation for similar qualities of other objects.
Such a grouping of objects in reference to particular qualities under the influence of the symbolic name, would form an initial stage in the reflective creation of an orderly universe out of the inchoate sequences of sense-experience. A further stage would be reached when the perception of these qualities became an end of conscious endeavour, and man looked out on the world, not merely as a witness, but as an observer. We are all, for example, witnesses of atmospheric changes from year's end to year's end; and perhaps some rough-and-ready generalizations are forced
(310) upon us, or are the direct outcome of our native wit. But we are content, for the most part, to remain mere witnesses . A few of us are, on the other hand, observers. These watch the changes of the weather, with the special object of perceiving the relations involved, and of rising to the conceptions of meteorology. When man thus becomes an observer, he takes an important stride towards the attainment of wider conceptions of the world. And when to observation he adds experiment, which may be described as observation under accurately controlled conditions, he renders his analysis more searching and extends the range of the synthesis dependent thereon. Most important, too, as an aid to the grasping of relations exceeding the reach of immediate perception, is the method of diagrammatic representation. The essence of this process is the translation of all relations, whatever their scope and nature, into visible space relations within the range of immediate perception. A map of a district or country thus condenses to within the reach of immediate perception space-relations of wide extent. An astronomical diagram enables us to grasp the relative sizes and distances of bodies, the actual sizes and distances of which tax the imagination to the utmost. The physicist can in this way represent the relative amplitudes of ether-vibrations of surpassing minuteness. Anything which can be expressed in numerical relations can thus be translated into perceivable space-relations, and thereby, through diagrammatic representation, brought home to the mind through the eye. It is well known that in this way we can represent the fluctuation of prices, death rate, commercial prosperity and depression, statistics of crime, and numberless other widely different changes. I have used this method in all that I have Said concerning the wave or curve of consciousness. Such a curve represents diagrammatically to the eye the relative intensities of numerous factors in consciousness. It, in common with other figures introduced into this book, is a were diagram, and in
(313) no sense a picture. And it is essential, in the employment of this method of diagrammatic representation, that we should steadily bear in mind the fact that it is merely diagrammatic and symbolic or representative. More especially is this necessary in psychology, where we endeavour to make clear by physical or spatial analogies, changes in consciousness the nature and character of which are neither spatial nor physical.
Thus the progress of scientific interpretation involves as co-ordinate and concurrent processes,-- first, inductive generalization through the continued application of analysis and synthesis; and, secondly, the testing of the generalization by further experiment and observation. The knowledge so gained is condensed in propositions, and brought within the range of perception through diagrammatic representation. Schematic logic does not afford much assistance in the process ; it is an afterthought. The man of science, like the artist, is largely dependent on flashes of insight in moments when the wave of consciousness is peculiarly full, rich, and intense. How they come he may not be able to say, but he cannot often conscientiously attribute them to schematic logic. It is idle, therefore, to expect through the application of rules of 'scientific procedure to attain scientific insight ; for the man of science in so far as he is creative is an artist. One can only say to him, as one would say to other artists :-Saturate yourself through and through with your subject, and with all that bears, or may bear, upon it, and wait. If the flash of insight comes, treasure it, and then patiently work it out in all its bearings, remembering that no art-product is made convincing without labour. Then you may apply your rules of scientific method with profit and advantage. And if it does not come, still wail, and meanwhile be content to serve science as a useful- if uninspired day-labourer.
But I have said that it is not here my purpose to endea-
(312)-vour to trace the steps by which a scientific interpretation of nature has been, or may have been, reached. Such an attempt would be out of place in an Introduction to Comparative Psychology. There is, however, one aspect of such an interpretation, in its widest significance, to which we are bound to devote our careful attention. For the interpretation of nature involves the interpretation of consciousness as manifested in nature-in, at any rate, some animals, in other men, and in ourselves. We speak of mind and matter, of self and not-self, of subject and object. What are the relationships involved in these antithetical concepts? How have the concepts been reached ? Does the conception of Evolution apply to mind ? And if so, from what has mind been evolved ? The student of human psychology can perhaps afford to leave these questions, or some of them, on one side. In an Introduction to Comparative Psychology we must attempt to deal with them even if the attempt merely serves to show how ignorant we are.
Taking first the relation of subject and object we shall find it most convenient to begin by considering the impression as a product of sense-experience. Let us suppose that a puppy has an impression of a bone. For the puppy there is neither object nor subject, there is merely the impression as a bit of real vivid experience. But we, who wish to explain the puppy's impression, submit it to analysis. And in the conceptual field of our thought it becomes, so to speak, polarized. At one pole there is the objective bone, and at the other pole the subjective consciousness of the puppy. We may then, in the light of this analysis, explain the impression " bone " in two ways. We may say :-- There is an object in consciousness; or we may say :-There 'is a consciousness of the object. These are merely different modes of expressing the same fact of experience. But the former gives emphasis to the objective side of the impression, the latter to its subjective or conscious side.
There lies before me a crystal of quartz. The very ,language in which I state the fact implies the differentiation of the impression into object (quartz) and subject (me). This impression, as I look at the crystal, is just as real as anything can be. It matters not that the impression is set in a background of relations, and is thus raised to the level of a percept or a concept. The basal impression suggestive of these relations is there in the focus of my consciousness. But, qua impression, it is neither subjective nor objective; it is both and neither. Both, inasmuch as it is the raw material which on analysis may yield the subject and the object; neither, inasmuch as, qua impression, it is not analysed. And now suppose that we do submit it to analysis in our thought, and by abstraction reach the quartz as object in consciousness on the one band, and the subjective consciousness thereof on the other hand. It is surely clear that on the score of such analysis we have no grounds for saying that either the quartz as object, or the subjective consciousness thereof, is capable of independent existence. The object and subject, involved in the sense-impression, are like the colour or the scent of a rose, distinguishable in thought but they are not separable in experience. We distinguish quite clearly the colour from the scent of the rose, but we know that they are inseparable in sense-experience. So we distinguish the objective and subjective aspects of the impression, but in the impression they are inseparable.
Let us now pass from the impression to the perception. Suppose that I perceive the similarity of the two inkstands on my writing-table. Here, again, we have that which we' may describe in one of two ways. We may either say:-- is a relation in the focus of consciousness; or, There. is a consciousness of the relation. We polarize the perception as we polarized the impression, and we distinguish the relation as an object of perception from the subjective perception of the object. So, too, with the conception. I
(314) have a conception of rotundity ; and this I may describe in two ways. I may say: -- There is an Idea in the focus of consciousness ; or, There is a consciousness of the Idea,. We polarize the conception as we polarized the impression and the perception. But here again we are only distinguishing in analysis and through abstraction two aspects of the conception which are in the moment of experience inseparable and indivisible. We are thus driven to the conclusion that throughout the whole range of experience from the most primitive sense-experience to the highest ranges of conceptual thought, subject and object are inseparable. There is no subject without an object. There is no object without a subject. We may distinguish the objective from the subjective aspects of our experience; but we have no grounds for regarding them as divisible or separable. We must not therefore picture to ourselves, or conceive the subject as something that is self-subsisting and independent ; or the object as part of an external independent world, into which the subject may, or may not, be introduced; and the problem of psychology as the question how these two can be brought into relation. We must rather regard subject and object as inseparably united in experience ; and the problem of psychology as the question how this two-faced unity has had its origin.
We are now in a position to complete the catalogue of the meanings of that most puzzling word " object," which we began in a previous chapter. We there distinguished, first, the object of sense- experience-this is the objective aspect of the impression; secondly, the object as percept, when the object of sense-experience is viewed in its perceived relations; and, thirdly, the object as concept when it is viewed in its generalized relations. A snake, for example, may be an object of sense-experience to a secretary bird; it is an object as percept to the naturalist who is identifying it by comparison with other snakes; and it becomes an
(315) object as concept to the biologist who regards it is an example of an extensive group of animals. In all these cases the object of sense-experience is presentatively or representatively present to consciousness as a nucleus. It is focal to the eye of sense-experience; the difference is entirely marginal. It is a difference of background. But we must now extend the word object, first to that which is focal to the eye of perception, for example a particular relation; and then to that which is focal to the eye of conception, for example, relationship in general. In this sense an abstract and general Idea, such as virtue, or redness, or matter, may be an object in consciousness; not indeed an object of sense, but an object of thought. Thus there are five meanings to the word object -- (1) the object of sense-experience, (2) the object as percept, (3) the object as concept, (4) the object of perception, and (5) the object of conception. All of them have this in common, that they are antithetical and complementary to the subject. But the fifth class, the objects of conception, fall into two categories, according as they deal with the objective or subjective aspect of experience. For both subject and object can become objects of thought. We must be careful therefore to grasp in what sense a writer uses the word object or objective, for it is a fruitful source of fallacies. He may mean by objective, that which is antithetical and complementary to subjective,-this is the wider signification ; or he may mean by objective, all that pertains to the object of sense-experience, -- and this is the narrower signification. Thus 'the explanation of the world in terms of matter and energy is an objective explanation in the narrower sense; but the subject, and its states of consciousness, though it way be an object of thought in the wider sense, can never be objective in the narrower sense. In further illustration of this point, let us take such an object as a crystal of quartz.It may be the starting-point of wide-reaching conceptions,
(316) according as it is dealt with by the psychologist- on the one hand or the physicist on the other. These we 'may represent in tabular form thus : -
|explained by psychology as the consciousness of the object, in terms of those subjective phenomena we name sensations, impressions, &c.||Quartz||explained by physical, science as the object in consciousness, in terms, of those objective phenomena we name matter and energy, &c.|
Now, the conceptions, not only of physics but of psychology, are objects in thought; they are all objective in the wider sense; but only those on the right hand, or physical side of the above table, are objective in the more restricted signification of the word.
In sense-experience as experienced, there is neither subject nor object. There is just the impression which as before explained is neither or both. But in sense-experience se- experience as explained by reflective thought, the impression is polarized into object in consciousness and consciousness of the object; and I have asserted that these two though distinguishable are inseparable. It may be said, however, that nothing is easier than to separate the objective bone from the subjective puppy. Granted ;-but then there is no impression. I merely assert that in the impression, as explained by reflection, the subjective aspect and the objective aspect are inseparable. If there be no impression I make no assertion about it. What I do assert is, that if the puppy either sees or remembers the bone, -- if he has either an impression or an idea of it, then in that impression or idea there is the objective and the subjective aspect, distinguishable but inseparable. And if someone says, that surely the bone exists as such, whether the puppy or any other living being has an impression of it or not ; I reply that I never thought of denying this - but that, as psycho-
(317) -logist, it is for me to deal with impressions and ideas; and that at such times as the bone is not forming the objective aspect of an impression or idea, it nowise concerns me. While I look at it, the bone as the objective aspect of my impression is real ; every bit as real as the subjective aspect of the impression; the reality of the objective and subjective aspects being strictly co-ordinate. And as psychologist I have nothing whatever to do with the bone, or the world of which it is a sample, except in so far as it forms the objective aspect of impressions or ideas, or the nucleus of ideas of relation or conceptual Ideas. It thus forms for me as psychologist part of the visible tangible objective world, -a world, I repeat, every bit as real I as the subjective world of which it is the complement. With the world except as it presents itself in conscious experience we have here no concern.
All this may seem to some of my readers somewhat laboured and wearisome. And yet I think it is necessary, if we would attempt an answer to that most difficult question (so lightly answered by those who do not think deeply thereon) how far and in what sense the organism in the stage of mere sense experience is conscious of its own existence, or of the sentience of other animals. Let us work down to this problem from above, passing from what we know concerning our own consciousness, to what we may infer concerning, the consciousness of mere sense-experience. Man is self-conscious. He has reached a definite Idea of himself as subject. He conceives the Ego in marked antithesis to the non-ego. What then is this self which he so conceives? What is the Not-self, which he places in antithesis to it ? In the light of what has already been said, the answers to these questions are not far to seek, The Not-self is the generalized concept of all that reflection has taught us concerning the objective aspect of the data of sense -experience ; the Self is the generalized concept of
(318) all that reflection has taught us, concerning the subjective aspect of our life experiences. Throughout the whole range of these experiences, the objective and subjective aspects, though distinguishable in reflection, are inseparable in actual experience, Hence we may say, that the Self and the Not-self are the generalized concepts which arise out of the distinguishable, but inseparable, aspects of experience.
But it is impossible to deal reflectively with the Not-self, and not to have forced upon our notice that there is therein something more than the objective aspect of impressions, and of the transitions between them. We seem forced to conclude that the transitions are due to an activity inherent in the not-self; and we seem forced to conclude that the activity is orderly and determinate. If there were no inherent activity, there would be no transitions; if the activity were not orderly and determinate, there would be no science or knowledge. So too, it is impossible to deal reflectively with the self, and not to have forced upon our attention the fact that we have something more than a sequence of states of consciousness. There is an activity which is selective and synthetic, which is orderly and determinate.
Now here we stand between two opposing schools of psychology. The one school contends, or at any rate is said by its critics of the opposing school to contend, that consciousness is a mere spectator or onlooker, curiously watching the play of material physiological forces, which it is incapable of controlling or modifying in the least degree. This, in condensed expression, is the doctrine of conscious automatism. On the other hand, an opposing school contends that the orderly selective and synthetic activity of consciousness is its essential feature, without which the subject tumbles to pieces as an incoherent series ,of sensations with nothing to give them unity, and to interpret them into a whole; and this school further contends,
(319) or at any rate is said by its critics of the opposing, school to contend, that this orderly activity of the subject is something altogether apart from, and dissimilar to anything else in the whole realm of existence. Discussion and criticism of the views of opposing schools of thought forms no part of the scheme of this work, and I do but allude to the above noticed divergence of opinion in order to mark more clearly my own position. Agreeing heartily with the view that there is an orderly and determinate activity in consciousness, in the absence of which the self would be inexplicable; and agreeing further in the view that this activity, qua subjective, is distinguish able from any manifestation of activity, qua objective ; I believe that, so far from being dissimilar to anything else in the whole realm of existence, this selective synthetic activity in consciousness is but the subjective aspect of the selective synthetic activity which is objective in the not-self. If, as I said above, the self and the notself are the generalized concepts we have of the distinguishable but inseparable aspects of experience, I do but add to this the conclusion, that at) activity which is determinate, selective, and synthetic, is an inalienable part of this generalized conception. It is this inherent selective and synthetic activity, in its subjective aspect, to which the-word Will is properly applicable. And it naturally follows that those who deny or neglect the synthetic activity in consciousness, deny or neglect also the Will, and seek to resolve the phenomena into a sequence of presentations or representations. There is no place for the Will in a scheme of conscious automatism. That the Will may be omitted in psychology as descriptive, I admit that it can he omitted in psychology as explanatory, I am not prepared to admit.
An illustration by analogy may here be helpful. If we
(320) allow a concentrated solution of alum to evaporate, and hang therein a piece of thread, we shall see the formation of alum crystals of definite shape and orderly growth. Now suppose that such a crystal were endowed with reflective self-consciousness. It would perceive in the growth of its own or its neighbour's material "body," the movements of the molecules as they grouped themselves in crystalline form; for purposes of description (empirical) it would be sufficient to tell the whole story in terms of antecedence and sequence. Such and such a disposition of the molecules in one moment is followed by such and such a disposition in the succeeding moment. So too in describing empirically the growth of its own " mind " (the subjective aspect of the molecular changes), it would be sufficient to tell the whole story in terms of antecedence and sequence:-- Such and such a grouping of the elements of consciousness follows on such and such a preceding grouping. But if it were asked to explain bow it was that these phenomena uniformly followed each other in this way, it might either say at once:-- I do not know; or it might take one step, and a quite legitimate step, before confessing ignorance. It might say that a survey of all the facts empirically described, justifies the inference that they are the outcome of an activity which is synthetic, selective, and determinate. If it applied the term will to this activity in its subjective aspect it would further maintain that the will was free, just in so far as it was unhampered by external constraint. The building up of the. crystalline structure and character to its natural development would be its typical example of freedom; but if many crystals were forming in a crowded space so that none could assume the natural form, this would be an example of external constraint.
So too do I, to apply the analogy, reflectively surveying my own bodily and mental development, see in both a sequence of phenomena due to an intrinsic activity, There
(321) are bodily or physical manifestations, and there are mental or psychical manifestations; and underlying both there is the intrinsic selective and synthetic activity. It is in virtue of this, that, in the language of philosophy, the individual is of common essence with the universal. And this assumes a new aspect when philosophy, touched by emotion to its finer issues, rises into religion. In virtue of the intrinsic activity I am I. And in virtue of the intrinsic activity the not-self, in so far as known to me, is what it is.' The self and the not-self, I repeat, are the generalized concepts we have framed of the distinguishable but inseparable aspects of experience. Beyond experience and inferences based thereon, we do not go. But if a synthetic activity is manifested alike as the very essence of the self and as the underlying principle of the evolving not-self; and if the physical changes in that bit of the not-self we call the brain are the concomitants of psychical events, we may surmise that subject and object, no matter how completely we may distinguish them in analysis, are in essence one. And experience, alike in its objective and subjective Aspects, is the determinate result of an activity which is selective and synthetic.
Self-consciousness would seem thus to involve-first, the conception of the subjective as distinguished from the objective ; secondly, the concentration of the net result of all subjective experience into one generalized concept; and thirdly, the further conception of this net result as due to the determinate working of an activity which is synthetic and selective. This is self-consciousness in its most highly developed form. Not all of us, however, attain this degree of precision and clearness. For most of us the self is the imperfectly distinguished subject of our life's experience. And many of us would be unable to say whether the body is part of the self or of the not-self. Very vague is the schoolboy's or the peasant's conception of self, and for them
(322) there can be no doubt that the body forms part of the "me." Even for the most reflective among us there are periods-- often periods of exceptionally healthy vigorous existence when the concept of self never comes near, the focus of consciousness. When I am playing a hard game of tennis, or when I am sailing a yacht close to the wind in a choppy sea, self does not at all tend to become focal. At these times the idea of self is in abeyance. Hence though I am a self-conscious being, I am not always self-conscious. And presumably at such times as I am least self-conscious, I am nearest the condition of the animal at the stage of mere sense-experience. What then does reflection tell me concerning my mental condition at such times? Although I am not occupied with an Idea of self,' I am fully and vigorously conscious,-nay, rather I am exhilarated with the sense of pleasurable existence, my whole being tingles with sentient life, my wave of consciousness is exceptionally deep and full. In a word, I sense, or am aware of, my own life and consciousness, in an ususually (sic) vivid manner. But such sensing is marginal, and not focal. And just as I have before said, that in the life of sense-experience there is sensing or awareness of relations not yet perceived or conceived (the word relations being used with anticipatory force), so now I would say, that in the life of sense-experience there is a sensing or awareness of *the self that has not yet been distinguished in thought from the not-self. Experience is vivid and continuous. Such I take it to be the condition of the conscious but not yet self-conscious animal. And what, it may be asked, gives body and continuity to this sensing of existence? I have no doubt about the answer to this question. It is the fulness and continuity of the mar-in of subconsciousness, which forms a relatively constant setting to a sequence of varying impressions. As I stand by the helm of the yacht, the keen wind with an occasional, dash of spray in my face, the swish of water along the counter, the
(323) pitching of the vessel ; set teeth, firm lips, knitted brow, and muscles of arms, trunk, and legs well braced ;-all this forms a relatively permanent background to the visual impressions, as I observe the advancing waves or watch the set of the mainsail to the wind. When we remember from how many thousands of nerves all over the body, not merely on the surface but also from internal parts, impulses are raining in upon the brain, numbers of which are no doubt infraconscious, but many of which contribute to the subconscious margin of the field of consciousness; when we remember too how continuous is this stream of impulses, we shall not be at a loss to find the raw material of the sensed continuity of consciousness. Not that mere continuity, mere abundance of material, would serve to constitute even the consciousness of sense-experience. Thai consciousness, no less than the higher self-consciousness of man, is a product of selective synthesis ordering and grouping the material-as the molecules of a crystal are ordered and grouped, only with indefinitely greater subtlety and mobility.
Such then, it appears, may be the nature of that glad awareness of existence which ;in animal at the stage of well developed sense-experience may have. Self-conscious it is not, and cannot be. For such an animal has not reached the level where perception and conception take their part in the mental development. And where there is no Idea of self, there is no self- consciousness properly so-called. But conscious they are, and they feel their existence to the full. It is only through reflection that experience is polarized into objective and subjective ; and therefore, prior to reflection, the self as subject is not distinguished.
But if the animal at this stage, though sensing its existence in every moment of consciousness, has no conception of the self as the subject of experience, how does it regard other animals ? Let us suppose that a puppy is at this stage; how does it regard its brother puppy? Were it capable of reason-
(324) -ing (which ex hypothesi it is not), it would be able to think thus: -- When I am pleased I wag my tail; Spot is wagging his tail; therefore he is pleased. He would thus be able to regard Spot as conscious or sentient. But being incapable of such reasoning, is he able somehow to feel, if not to know, that Spot is sentient ? I think we may fairly suppose that he is. Let us suppose that he yelps in a particular way when be is in pain. He hears the yelp that he himself makes, and there is associated with it the pain that he suffers. Now when he hears a similar yelp from Spot, there is called up by association a memory of the pain. His own yelp was set in a background of presentative pain; Spot's yelp calls up a background of representative pain. A hundred experiences of daily life would enforce a similar association. And thus the impressions which Spot produces in his consciousness would come to be surrounded with a fringe of sentience. It is possible that some one may be tempted to exclaim, " Ah! but this fringe of sentience is purely subjective; it is a revival of the pain the puppy itself has experienced, and is not associated with Spot as the object of sense-experience." But he who would thus exclaim must have forgotten what I endeavoured to establish with regard to the impression-- that, as such, in naive experience, it is not yet polarized into subjective and objective. It is simply a bit of direct unsophisticated experience. And in this simple direct experience, the impression " yelping puppy " carries with, it a fringe of sentience.
It is no doubt difficult for man to divest himself of the relational halo which reflection adds to his simplest impressions-perhaps impossible to do so entirely. But if we endeavour, so far as possible, to catch ourselves in moments when sense-experience is most direct, and least modified by reflection, we shall, I think, find that it is the unanalysed impression itself that carries with it the fringe of pleasurable or painful sentience. We are sitting in the theatre, and the
(325) curtain rises on a group of merry village maidens. The impression is pleasurable. And the pleasure is not carefully assigned either to the. objective young women or to the subjective ego. That is the business of reflection. It is simply that the living dancing-girls give rise to an impression of a particular order, and that this impression is suffused with pleasure. Turning the corner of a street, I once came upon two men supporting the senseless form of a poor fellow who had been knocked down by a cab, and was badly cut about the face. I well remember the faint thrill that ran through me as I shrank back. This, I feel sure, was the direct effect -of the impression as such, and that it was, at the moment of experience, unanalysed into subject and object. Such, I take it, is the normal experience of the unreflective animal And such, I may remark in passing, is the psychological basis and origin of sympathy.
We must remember how important a factor in animal life is imitation ; how puppies, or kittens, or piglings of the same litter, act in concert. Not far from my school was a farmyard, in which I watched many a litter of little pigs. Shall I confess that I sometimes visited the yard catapult in hand, and with this singled out a particular pigling? The shot was followed by a squeak and a rush, in which not only my particular quarry but the whole litter participated. Each pigling in the rush experienced certain feelings of alarm or -fright, and at the same time saw his brothers running. These two, (1) the sight of another pigling scuttling off, and (2) a feeling of fright, would thus become associated. And in this way participation in common actions would beget a feeling of community in sentience. Where animals hunt in packs, as with wolves, this community of sentience would be proportionately strong. And then we must remember how wonderfully keen and acute are the senses of animals. The dog watches every change of his master's face, voice, and demeanour. Each has its associations as an impression.
Hence the extraordinary and beautiful sympathy of the dog. How largely sympathy depends. on the appreciation of objective signs, we know among ourselves. The sympathetic man notices every varying expression and shadow of a shade. The unsympathetic person needs to have the fact that one is suffering or depressed shouted in his-ear. The sympathy of the dog, so different from the behaviour of all but exceptional cats, is due to his keen receptivity and his social antecedents. The impression produced by every movement of his master is fringed with sentience. But there need be no reflective distribution of this sentience between subject and object. I am not denying that in the dog this reflective distribution may perhaps be superadded. But I submit that the evidence we have of sympathy in animals does not carry with it, as a necessary inference, that they have such powers of reflection and conceptual thought.