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 timid bird or mammal becomes strong and fierce in defence of her young.  In the presence of this emotion appetite and fear are alike forgotten.

But this affection or love once started does not remain limited to parent and offspring.  Mammals, especially the higher forms, are social.  They frequently go in herds and troops, and appear to have a genuine affection for each other.  You all know how in herds of cattle or wild horses the males form a circle around the females and young at the approach of wolves.  A troop of orangs were surprised by dogs at a little distance from their shelter.  The old male orangs formed a ring and beat off the dogs until the females and young could escape, and then retreated.  But as they were now in comparative safety a cry came from one young one, who had been unable to keep up in the scramble over the rocks, and was left on a bowlder surrounded by the dogs.  Then one old orang turned back, fought his way through the dogs, tucked the little fellow under one arm, fought his way out with the other, and brought the young one to safety.  I call that old orang a hero, but I am prejudiced and may easily be mistaken.

In a cage in a European zooelogical garden there were kept together a little American monkey and a large baboon of which the former was greatly afraid.  The keeper, to whom the little monkey was strongly attached, was one day attacked and thrown down by the baboon and in danger of being killed.  Then the little monkey ran to his help, and bit and beat his tyrant companion until he allowed the keeper to escape.  We are all proud that the little monkey was an American.