The Speech of Monkeys

I have observed among dogs associated with each other that where one should bark in the distance, as though he had something at bay, his companion, hearing him from the house, would prick up his ears, listen for a moment, and then dash off in the direction from whence the sounds came; whereas the bark of a strange dog, even having something at bay, would only cause him to listen, utter a low sound or grunt, and lie down again and take a nap, as much as to say "That's nothing to me!" I have known many instances where dogs would follow the farm waggon to town, and faithfully guard the waggon and its contents all day long, with a fidelity that we seldom see in the most devoted servants. The attachment of a dog to his master has been a subject of remark from time immemorial, until the saying has crystallised into a maxim--"As faithful as a watch-dog." A friend of mine had a little terrier, whose name was Nicodemus, that had a habit of sitting in the kitchen window to watch people pass the street. She assures me that on washdays, when the steam condensed on the window-panes, Nicodemus would lick the moisture from the glass in order to see through it more clearly. Could instinct be the guide in such an act? If man would only pause and calmly view the facts, he would find that he is but a joint heir of Nature; and why not so? From a religious point of view I cannot doubt that the wisdom and mercy of God would bestow alike on all the faculties of speech and reason as their conditions of life require them, and from a scientific point of view I cannot charge the laws of evolution with such disorder. In either case it were a harsh and jarring discord in the great harp of Nature, whether played by the hand of Chance or swept by the fingers of Omniscience.