to civilised man. Or it might be attempted in temperate South America with Chrysotis amazonica, which is said to be even more docile and intelligent than the African grey parrot. If a pair of clever parrots were matched, and the experiment were carried on for several generations with their offspring, always selecting the most docile and intelligent birds, there can be little doubt but that most interesting results would be reached. The adaptability of the vocal organs to articulate speech, the power of the brain to regulate and co-ordinate the action of the muscles of those parts, would assuredly undergo a gradual development. In like manner the memory for words, and for their connection with the objects which they symbolise, would be strengthened. What ultimate end might thus be reached it is impossible to predict. Perhaps in these days of cram and of the equal rights of animals we may, in five centuries, have magpies in the "fifth and sixth standards," macaws preparing for the examination of the Science and Art Department, and cockatoos-" sweet bird graduates "—taking their degrees at the University of London.

(A cantankerous acquaintance who sometimes intrudes into our sanctum, looking over our shoulder, remarks that we have already reached all these results.)

In sober sadness we trust that such experiments will be carefully undertaken and carried on for the needful length of time. Of time, indeed, there must be no stint, for parrots arrive but very slowly at maturity.

So much, then, for birds. But how about talking Mammalia? We can scarcely deny that the anthropoid apes, the dog, the cat, the elephant are more intelligent than the parrots, ravens, magpies, starlings, &c. It is generally admitted that they understand our spoken language to a very considerable extent, even in matters where tone, gesture, or expression of features throw no light at all upon our meaning. We know instances where words of reproach, though intentionally uttered in a mild tone, have been at once comprehended both by dogs and cats.

A very intelligent dog described by M. A. Roujon* will, when ordered by his master, fetch, without ever being mistaken, his pipe, tobacco, a knife, a fork, &c. When he hears merely the word "sport" (chasse) he rushes to his master's gun. This dog belongs to a M. Antoine Barthomeuf, who keeps a café in the Place de l'Eglise, at Chamalières, near Clermont-Ferrand. But why, then, as mammalians so

* Revue Internationale des Sciences Biologiques, 1882, No. 10, p. 348.

clearly understand and remember our language, are they so little capable of acquiring its use? We will admit that it is, for the majority of men, easier to understand a language than to speak it. But this well-known fact is far from explaining the difficulty. Does it lie in the different structure of the vocal organs? This difference in the higher apes is but trifling. In the Carnivora it is greater; their tongues are relatively longer and slenderer, and better adapted for lapping up liquids, or for licking and rasping the bones of their prey, than for going through the various evolutions within the mouth required for the production of articulate sounds. The voice of the cat is deficient in compass, and that of the dog is too abrupt and jerky. The anthropoid apes, though given to converse among themselves with great volubility, have never been brought sufficiently long and closely under human influence; they have never been known to propagate in a domestic condition, and their lives in captivity in Europe or in the United States are short and sad, since they are soon attacked by disease. Hence the opportunities for teaching them to talk have been insufficient. We should suggest that the attempt should be made, say at Calcutta, or Buitenzorg in Java, with the mias or the chimpanzee, just as we have suggested above in case of the parrots. The difficulty would be how to give these animals the freedom necessary for their health and vigour, and yet to bring them in sufficiently close contact with their keepers. We should propose that the course of training should commence with pregnant females. The young should then be brought from infancy into the society of kind and intelligent keepers, who should teach them to speak, those which showed the greatest aptitude being selected as the parents of the next generation.

Meantime it must not be forgotten that there are some Mammalia which have, in rare instances, been known to utter a few words. Among these is the common seal,—a singularly docile, affectionate, and intelligent creature, which might well claim at the hands of man a better treatment than to be massacred for the sake of its fur.

There have been various anecdotes of talking dogs, but the only instance which is duly authenticated is that of the dog of Clermont-Ferrand, above mentioned. This dog, a setter, can, according to M. Roujon, utter the words "ma maman." "To make the dog speak," says this author, "it is necessary to stand before him and bid him pronounce the words ma maman, showing him some bread or meat. The dog then becomes agitated and growls, but on repeating the

demand he at length decides to speak. He pronounces at first feebly and indistinctly, but on telling him to speak more distinctly he gradually finds his voice, and finally pronounces the words demanded very distinctly." This performance, we learn, has been repeated before a great number of persons at Clermont. The same dog, further, if his master has shot and brought home any game, runs of his own accord to the kitchen to seek a knife, carries it to his mistress, and addresses her as ma maman.

MM. Gallois and Gory, friends of M. Roujon, state that they have met with several dogs who pronounce distinctly some words, amongst others the word non. It is indisputable, as M. Roujon remarks, that by applying to such animals a methodic selection prodigious results may be obtained. Prof. Max Müller's " Rubicon may be dried up in a manner plain even to the most prejudiced.

II. PATENT-LAW AMENDMENT.

By AN OLD TECHNOLOGIST.

OR some dozen years or more we have, as a nation, come to the very wise conclusion that the Patent Law of the United Kingdom is not all that might reasonably be demanded, and that, in well-known phraseology, "something ought to be done." What that something is and who is to do it are further points upon which we are by no means agreed. It is, in the first place, to be regretted that neither of the great political parties seem willing to take the matter heartily up. Precisely because it is everybody's business it is nobody's. Hence while questions which are in comparison light as air-or rather as hydrogen gascan secure the attention of the Administration and of Parliament, Patent-Law reform is shelved,-put off to some indefinite epoch. That this should be so is discreditable to our national prudence and common sense. Without a good Patent Law we shall have no inventions and improvements, and without inventions and improvements we cannot hope to hold our own in the intensified struggle for business which

is so characteristic of modern times. A statesman of the present day has openly expressed his satisfaction that we have no longer a monopoly of the world's manufactures. Will he and his friends, then, do nothing to place us at least on terms of fair equality with our rivals? Or are we to go on, as we are at present, heavily handicapped in the race?

But though Parliament has done nothing, and does not for the present seem likely to do anything, certain societies have taken the matter up, and have expressed opinions which will not be without influence upon the nation, and in due time upon the Government. Among these may be noticed the Philosophical Society of Glasgow, and the Society of Arts, which has taken the trouble to draft a Bill to be introduced into Parliament if that august body has ever time for the consideration of so plain and matter-of-fact a subject.

More recently the Council of the Society of Chemical Industry has resolved upon certain "recommendations," which have been widely circulated and which are influentially supported.

It may, perhaps, seem presumptuous for a mere private individual, holding no official position, to dissent from opinions put forward by such high authorities, and to proclaim their recommendations unsatisfactory; yet I feel compelled so to do, and I can only hope that the grave importance of the subject may be accepted as an excuse for the liberty I am about to take.

In the first place it must be asked, What do we aim at by a new and improved Patent Law? Do we seek to encourage and attract invention, or to drive it away? On the answer to this question the character of the recommendations to be proposed, and of the law to be enacted, must hinge. If we have the former purpose in view,-if we wish that invention. should abound and flourish among us, that our working-men in every department of industry should be constantly seeking to improve the processes now in use, and that foreign inventors should flock to England as the best sphere for the practical carrying out of their ideas,—we must seek to give greater facilities for protecting the property of the inventor in the work of his own brain than he can meet with elsewhere. This is not the case at present. And we must venture to remind those cynical freebooters who tell us that the inventor will go on inventing whether we protect him or rob him, that if he finds himself robbed he may carry his future inventions elsewhere.

A regard to our own future, an enlightened self-interest,

leaving equity out of the question,-bids us therefore see to it, that the inventor is not compelled to go elsewhere.

What is needful for this purpose? We must grant patents for a longer term than do our rivals; we must grant them on easy terms as to fees and duties; and, above all things, we must secure for patents once granted an absolute duration. In all these points we offer less instead of greater facilities to invention than do some of our industrial rivals. Let us take the most formidable of these rivals, the United States of America. In that country the property of the inventor in his ideas is secured for seventeen years, whilst we grant him only fourteen years. Secondly, the expense of taking out a patent is, as is perfectly well known, a mere fraction of the charges incurred in this country. But the most important point in favour of the system of patents of the United States is what I must call its certainty or fixity. A. B. has invented, say, a new method of manufacturing soap; he has paid his fees, and received the official document certifying his rights. From that moment to the expiry of the seventeen years the patent is his absolute property, unless of course it is set aside by the decision of a Court as being wanting in novelty, or as being an infringement of some prior patent. No act or omission on the part of the patentee can render his patent null and void. In the United Kingdom a totally different system prevails, to the disadvantage of the inventor. He is called upon to pay £50 at the end of the third year, and a further sum of £100 at the expiry of the seventh year, failing either of which sums the patent is forthwith void, and the invention becomes public property. Now the effects of such a system are self-evident. Every person who wishes to have the use of the process, and who otherwise would negotiate with the patentee for a license or for the purchase of his entire rights, is induced to wait, in the hope that the patentee may fail to pay the £50 duty at the end of the third year. This is especially certain if the inventor is known or suspected to be poor,—a state of things far from uncommon, as his means are often much reduced by the cost of perhaps a prolonged course of experimentation. Hence, therefore, capitalists have a distinct inducement given them to hold back, which in America does not exist.

Now it has always been a mystery to me how it comes that genuine Patent-Law reformers-men who declare themselves the friends and promoters of invention do not perceive the necessary effects of this system of intermediate payments. So far are they, however, from recognising the VOL. V. (THIRD SERIES.)

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