Man possesses not only a complete sympathetic system, the rudiments of which are found in worms and insects, and a complete spinal system, less perfectly displayed in fishes, birds, and quadrupeds, but, superadded to all these is a magnificent cerebrum, and, as we have seen, all parts of the body are connected by the nervous system. The subtle play of sensory and motor impulses, of sentient and spiritual forces, indicates a perfection of nervous endowments nowhere paralleled, and barely approached by inferior animals. This meager reference to brainless animals, whoso knots of ganglia throughout their bodies act automatically as little brains, shows that instinct arises simultaneously with the development of the functions over which it presides. Here begins rudimentary, unreasoning intelligence. It originates within the body as an inward, vital impulse, is manifested in an undeviating manner, and therefore displays no intention or discretion. While Dr. Carpenter likens the human organism "to a keyed instrument, from which any music it is capable of producing can be called forth at the will of the performer," he compares "a bee or any other insect to a barrel organ, which plays with the greatest exactness a certain number of tunes that are set upon it, but can do nothing else." Instinct cannot learn from experience, or improve by practice; but it seems to be the prophetic germ of a higher intelligence. It is nearly as difficult to draw the dividing line between instinct and a low grade of intelligence, as it is to distinguish between the psychical and psychological[4] functions of the brain. The intimate relation of instinct to intelligence is admirably illustrated in the working honey-bee. With forethought it selects a habitation, constructs comb, collects honey, provides a cell for the ova, covers the chrysalis, for which it deposits special nourishment, and is disposed to defend its possessions. It is a social insect, lives in colonies, chastises trespassers, fights its enemies, and defends its home. It manifests a degree of intelligence, but its sagacity is instinctive. Reason, though not so acute as instinct, becomes, by education, discerning and keenly penetrative, and reveals the very secrets of profound thought. We recall the aptness of Prof. Agassiz's remark: _"There is even a certain antagonism between instinct and intelligence, so that instinct loses its force and peculiar characteristics, whenever intelligence becomes developed."_ Animals having larger reasoning powers manifest less instinct, and some, as the leopard, exercise both in a limited degree. This double endowment with instinct and low reasoning intelligence, is indicated by his lying in ambush awaiting his prey, the hiding-place being selected near the haunt of other animals, where nature offers some allurement to gratify the appetite.