Yet Instinct in its marvelous results, such as ingenuity of adaptation, often far surpasses what semi-civilized man could do.

Or it does the same things as man, only in an entirely different way which is not as yet understood.

Only from time to time some one tells a wonderful story of a bird, a dog or a cat, and then asks, "Was not this reason ?" What it was, in a great measure, was an unconscious application of memory or experience.

Bees and ants and birds often far outdo savage men in ingenuity of construction.

The red Indians in their persistent use of flimsy, cheerless bark wigwams, were far behind the beaver or oriole as regards dwellings; in this respect the Indian indicated mere instinct of a low order, as all do who live in circles of mere tradition.
Now to advance what seems a paradox, it is evident that even what we regard as inspired genius comes to man in a great measure from Instinct, though as I noted before it is aided by reflection.