Front matter (continued 2)

Rogers had spoken of this animal nearly in the same manner as is done in Anson’s Voyages. "The sea-lion (says he) is a very strange creature, and of a prodigious bulk; I have seen some above twenty feet long, which could not weigh less than four thousand pounds. Many of them were sixteen feet long and must weigh two thousand pounds; notwithstanding which, I was surprised at the great quantity of oil drawn from these animals. Its shape is nearly like the sea-calf; but its skin is as thick as that of an ox; the hair is short and bristly; the head disproportionally large; the mouth very wide; the eyes of a monstrous size, and the nose, which resembles that of the lion, has terrible whiskers, formed of such exceedingly stiff and bristly hair, that they might be used for tooth-picks. Towards the latter end of June, these animals go upon the island of Juan Fernandes to bring forth their young; which they do at about a gun-shot distance from the edge of the sea; there they remain till the end of September, without moving out of the place, and without taking any nourishment: at least, we did not see them eat. I observed some which remained eight days in the same spot, and which would not have stirred then had they not been frightened by the report of a pistol. At the island of Lobos in the South Sea, we likewise saw several sea-lions, but a much greater number of seals."

These observations of Woods and Rogers, which agree with what is said in Anson’s Voyages, seem to be further proofs of these animals living upon grass when they are on land; for there is but little probability that they should exist three months without any food, and especially during the time they suckle their young. We find in the Collection of Voyages to the South Seas, many remarks respecting these animals; but neither the descriptions nor circumstances appear to be exact: for example, it is said, that in the Straits of Magellan, there are sea-wolves of such an enormous size, that their skins, when stretched out, were six and thirty feet wide; which is evidently an exaggeration. It is also said, that on the two islands of Port Desire, those animals resemble lions in the anterior part of their body, having a very long mane on their heads, necks, and shoulders. This is a still greater exaggeration; for the sea-lions have only a little more hair on the neck than on the rest of the body, but which is not above an inch in length. It is likewise said that there are some of these animals above eighteen feet long, many about fourteen, but most commonly not above five. This might induce us to imagine, that there are two species, the one much larger than the other, because the author does not say whether this difference proceeded from the difference in their ages, which, however, was necessary in order to prevent error. “These animals (says Coreal) keep their mouths always open. It is with great difficulty that two men can kill one of these animals even with a strong lance, which is the best weapon that can be made use of for that purpose. One female suckles four or five young ones, and beats away any other young that comes towards her; from which circumstance I conclude they bring forth four or five young ones at a litter.” This presumption seems well founded; for the great seal, described by Mr. Parsons, had four teats, situate in such a manner as to form a square about the navel. I thought it necessary to collect every circumstance relative to these animals, which are but little known; and it is much to be wished that some skilful traveller would give us a proper description of them, and particularly of their internal parts, as the stomach, intestines, &c. for, if we could rely on the testimonies of travellers, we should believe that the sea-lions belong to the class of ruminating animals; that they have several stomachs, and that, consequently, they are of a far distant species from the seal, or sea-calf, which certainly has but one stomach, and must be placed among the carnivorous animals.

THE WALRUS, MORSE, OR SEA-COW.

THE name of sea-cow, by which the walrus (fig. 193.) is most generally known, has been very wrongly applied,[G] since the animal it denotes has not the least resemblance to a cow: the denomination of sea-elephant, which others have given it is much better imagined, as it is founded on a singular and very apparent character. The walrus, like the elephant, has two large ivory tusks which shoot from the upper jaw; and its head would entirely resemble that of the elephant if it had a trunk; the walrus, however, not only wants that instrument, which serves the elephant as an arm and hand, but it is deprived of the use of its arms and legs; those members being, like those of the seal, shut up within the skin, so that nothing appears outwardly but its hands and feet. Its body is long and tapering, thickest towards the neck, decreasing by degrees, and is entirely covered with a short hair. The fingers, or toes, of the hands and feet, are covered with a membrane, and terminated by short and sharp-pointed claws. On each side of the mouth are large bristles in the form of whiskers; the tongue is hollowed, and the concha of the ears are wanting, so that, excepting the two great tusks, and the want of the cutting teeth both above and below, the walrus perfectly resembles the seal, only being much larger and stronger; the walrus is commonly from twelve to sixteen feet in length, and eight or nine in circumference; whereas the largest seals are not more than seven or eight feet. The former generally frequent the same places as the seals are known to reside in, and they are almost always found together. They have the same habitudes in every respect: but there are fewer varieties of the walrus than of the seal; and they are more attached to one particular climate, being rarely found except in the northern seas, so that the seal might be known to the ancients, but the walrus could not.

Most travellers who have visited the northern seas of Asia, Europe, and America, have mentioned this animal; but Zorgdrager seems to have spoken most clearly on this subject, for which reason I shall subjoin a translation of his remarks, which were communicated to me by the Marquis de Montmirail.

"There was formerly great plenty of the walrus and seals in the bays of Horisont and Kloch, but at present there are very few. Both of them quit the water in the summer, and resort to the neighbouring plains, where they are sometimes seen in troops of from eighty to two hundred, particularly the walrus, who will remain there several days together, till hunger obliges them to return to the sea. This animal externally resembles the seal, but he is stronger and much larger.[H] Like the seals they have five toes to each paw, but their claws are shorter, and their head shorter and rounder. The skin of the walrus is an inch thick, wrinkled, and covered with very short hair of different colours. His upper jaw is armed with two tusks, about half an ell, or an ell in length, which are hollow at the root, and become larger as the animal grows in years. Some of them are found to have but one tusk, the other being torn out in fighting with each other, or falling out through age. This ivory generally sells for a greater price than that of the elephant, as it is of a more compact and harder substance. His mouth is like that of the ox, and furnished with hairs which are hollow, pointed, and about the thickness of a straw. Above the mouth are two nostrils, through which these animals spout water like a whale, without however making much noise. Their eyes are red, sparking and inflamed during the summer, at which season the water making too powerful an impression on them, they stay more willingly on shore than at any other time. They are in great numbers about Spitzbergen. They are killed with lances, and the profit derived from their teeth and fat fully repays the trouble; for their oil is almost as much valued as that of the whale. Their two teeth are worth as much as all the oil they produce, and are preferred even to ivory. An ordinary sized tooth will weigh three pounds, and in which case the two will sell for eighteen florins, about the value of half a ton of oil, which is commonly drawn from one of them; so that the animal may be said to be worth six and thirty florins. Formerly great numbers of these animals were seen upon land; but the vessels which every year resort to those seas for the whale fishery, have so frightened them, that they are now retired to more sequestered places; and those that remain no longer go on shore in troops, but either continue in the water, or disperse themselves on different parts of the ice. When the hunter comes near a walrus, whether in the water, or on the ice, he darts a very strong harpoon at him, which, though made expressly for the purpose, often slips over his hard and thick skin; but if it penetrate, they haul the animal with the rope annexed towards the boat, kill him with a very sharp and strong lance, and afterwards tow him to the nearest shore or flat piece of ice; there flay him, and throw his skin away, as it is of no manner of use[I]. They then separate the teeth with a hatchet, or sometimes cut off the head and boil it to prevent the teeth from receiving any injury; the blubber being cut into long slices, is barrelled up and carried on board the vessels. The walrus is generally heavier than the ox, and as difficult to pursue as the whale; the skin of the latter is also more easily pierced, for a strong and sharp lance is often darted several times at the walrus without penetrating his thick skin. For this reason they always endeavour to wound him in those parts where the skin appears tight, and even take aim at his eyes; the animal, obliged by this motion to turn his head, exposes his breast or throat to the hunter, who immediately strikes in that part, and draws the lance out again as quick as possible, for fear the animal should seize it with his teeth and wound those that attack him either with his teeth or the lance, which sometimes happens. However, an attack seldom lasts long on the ice, for the walrus, whether wounded or not, soon plunges into the sea; consequently the hunters rather attack him upon land. These animals are now rarely found but in the least frequented countries, as the isle of Moffen, at the back of Worland, in the neighbourhood of Horisont and Kloch bays, and other secluded and more distant places; they also take the precaution to sleep on banks of sand, where ships dare not approach them. Those that are met with, instructed by the persecutions they have so often experienced, are so much on their guard, that they always keep pretty near to the water, and immediately plunge in on being approached. I experienced this fact myself, having met with a troop of thirty or forty on the great sand bank at the back of Worland, some of which were quite close to the water, and others at no great distance from it. We waited some hours before we went ashore, in hopes they would advance further on the plain, but as this stratagem did not succeed according to our wishes, we went on board our boats, and landed to the right and left of them; but we had no sooner set foot on shore, than they all plunged into the water, and dived to the bottom, therefore the most we were able to accomplish was the wounding of a few. Before these animals were so greatly persecuted, they advanced a good way upon the land, so that when it was high tide, they were at a great distance from the sea; and at low water being at a still greater, they were easily attacked. The hunters would then land, and march up in their front to cut off their retreat to the sea, and which they permitted with indifference; when thus assailed, each hunter generally killed one before they could regain the water; and after they had killed several, they made a kind of barrier of their dead bodies, leaving some of the men in ambush to slay those that remained; and in this manner three or four hundred were often killed. The prodigious quantity of bones spread over the shores, sufficiently prove how numerous these animals were in former times. When wounded they become extremely furious. They sometimes seize the lances, and break them in pieces with their teeth; or tear them out of the hands of their enemies, and at last, full of rage, put their head betwixt their paws, or fins, and in this manner roll into the sea. When there is a great number of them together, they are so bold as to attack the boats that pursue them, bite the boats with their teeth, and exert all their strength to pierce or overturn them."

By adding to these observations of Zorgdrager those which are in the Collection of Voyages to the North, and what are scattered in other accounts, we have a tolerably complete history of this animal. By these relations we find that this species was formerly much more diffused than at present; they were found in the seas of the temperate zones, in the Gulph of Canada, on the coasts of Acadia, &c. but they are at present confined to the frozen zones, and even in those there are but few in any of those parts which are frequented. There are very few in the Frozen Seas of Europe, and still less in those of Greenland, Davis’s Straights, and other parts of North America, the whale fishery having disturbed and driven them away. Towards the end of the 16th century the inhabitants of St. Malo found them in great numbers in the Ramée islands; and it is not a hundred years since the merchants of Port-Royal thought it worth sending to Cape Sable and Cape Fourchu to hunt these animals, but they have now entirely forsaken those climates, and are only to be found in great numbers in the frozen sea of Asia, from the mouth of the Oby to the eastern point of that continent; they are seldom seen in the temperate, and those found in the torrid zone are of a different species; they seem averse from the southern seas, and therefore are not met with towards the south pole, although the great and small seals of the north are there in great plenty.

We find, however, that the walrus can live, at least for some time, in a temperate climate. Edward Worst speaks of having seen one alive in England, which was three months old; that it was put in water for a short time only each day, and that it went upon the ground. He does not say the heat of the air incommoded it, but, on the contrary, that when it was touched it had the appearance of a robust and furious animal, and that it had a very strong respiration through its nostrils. This young walrus was about the size of a calf, and very much like a seal. Its head was round, its eyes large, its nostrils flat and black, which it opened and shut at pleasure. It had no external ears, but only two auditory passages. The mouth was small, and the upper jaw was furnished with whiskers of thick, rough, and cartilaginous hairs; the lower jaw was triangular, the tongue thick and short, and each side of the mouth armed on the inside with flat teeth. The feet were broad, and the hind part of the body perfectly resembled that of a seal. It might be rather said to crawl with this hind part than to walk; the fore-feet were turned forward, and the hind ones backward; they were all divided into five toes, and covered with a strong membrane. The skin was thick, hard, and covered with a short, soft, ash-coloured hair. This animal grunted like a boar, and sometimes cried with a deep and strong voice. It was brought from Nova Zembla, and had not any tusks, but on the upper jaw there appeared two knobs, from whence in time they would arise. It was fed with a sort of gruel made of barley or oat-meal. It followed its master when he offered it food, but always with a seeming reluctance, as it grunted all the time, and would sometimes growl at him with a degree of fury.

This account, which gives a tolerably just idea of the walrus, evinces that it can live in a temperate climate; however there is no appearance of its being able to endure a strong heat, nor of its having ever passed from one pole to the other. Several travellers have spoken of certain sea-cows they saw in India, but those were of a different species. The walrus is easily distinguished by its long tusks, a character which we find peculiar to that and the elephant.

The genital member of the male has a large bone like the whale. The female brings forth in winter upon land, or on the shoals of ice, and seldom produces more than one, which when born is about the size of a hog of a year old. We do not know how long this animal goes with young, but if we judge by the time of their growth and size, we must suppose it to be upwards of nine months. The walrus cannot continue in the water for a long time together, but is obliged to come on shore to suckle its young, and for other occasions. When they are obliged to climb up steep shores, or large pieces of ice, they make use of their teeth and hands to hold by, and drag along the heavy masses of their bodies. They are said to feed upon the shell-fish which are at the bottom of the sea, and to grub them up with their strong tusks. Others assert that they live on a sea-herb with broad leaves, and that they eat neither flesh nor fish. But I imagine all these opinions have but a weak foundation, it being probable that the walrus, like the seal, lives on prey, especially on herrings, and other small fish, for he does not eat at all when upon land, and it is chiefly hunger which obliges him to return to the sea.

THE DUGON.

THE Dugon is an animal which inhabits the African and Indian seas. We have only seen two heads on this subject, which resembled that of the walrus more than any other animal. It had, like that, very deep sockets for the teeth, about the length of half a foot, which might more properly be termed cutting teeth than tusks. They extend not in a direct manner from the mouth, like those of the walrus, but are much shorter and thinner, besides they are situated close to each other in the fore part of the jaw, whereas the tusks of the walrus leave a considerable space between them, and are placed at the side of the upper jaw. The grinders of the dugon likewise differ in number, shape and position, from those of the walrus, therefore we make not the least doubt but they are animals of different species. Some travellers have confounded the dugon with the sea-lion. Inigo de Biervillas says, that a sea-lion was killed near the Cape of Good Hope, which measured ten feet in length, and four in circumference. Its head was like that of a calf about a year old; it had a bristly beard; its eyes large and frightful; its ears short, its feet very broad, and its legs so exceedingly short, that its belly dragged upon the ground: he adds, that it had two tusks about half a foot long. This last, however, does not agree with the sea-lion, which has no tusks, but teeth nearly resembling those of the seal; and this difference made me imagine it was not a sea-lion but the animal we call the dugon. Other travellers seem to have indicated it by the name of the sea-bear: Spilsberg and Mandelso relate, "that there are animals on the island of St. Elizabeth, on the coast of Africa, which should rather be denominated sea-bears than sea-wolves, as their hair, colour, and head, greatly resemble those of that animal, the snout only being more pointed; that they also move like the bear, except dragging their hind legs after them; that these amphibious animals have a frightful appearance, and do not shew any fear at the sight of man: their teeth are so very strong as to bite through the shaft of a javelin; and although their hind legs appear crippled, yet they move with such swiftness that it is very difficult to come up with them." Le Guat speaks of having seen a sea-cow, of a reddish colour, near the Cape of Good Hope; its body was round and thick, its eyes full and large, long tusks, and its muzzle was turned a little upwards. A sailor assured him that this animal, of which he only saw the fore part of its body, the rest being in the water, had feet. This sea-cow of le Guat’s, the sea-bear of Spilsberg, and the sea-lion of Biervillas, seem to be the same animal as the dugon, the head of which was sent us from the isle of France, and which, consequently, is to be met with in the southern seas, from the Cape of Good Hope to the Philippine islands: as for the rest we cannot affirm that this animal, which resembles the walrus by its head and tusks, has, like that, four feet. We only presume from analogy, and the testimony of travellers, that they have those members; but as the analogy is not very great, nor the testimonies of travellers sufficiently precise to decide this point, we shall suspend our judgment thereon till we are able to obtain better information.

THE MANATI.

THIS animal is called in French lamantin, and supposed by some to have derived that name from the lamentable cries it makes, but which is merely fabulous, as it is only a corruption of the real word manati, which in the Spanish indicates an animal with hands.

This animal may either be called the last of beasts or the first of fishes, for, in fact, it cannot positively be pronounced either the one or the other. The manati (fig. 194.) partakes of the nature of the former, by its two fore-feet, or hands; but the hind legs, which are almost wholly concealed in the bodies of the seal and walrus, are entirely wanting in the manati; instead of two short feet and a small narrow tail, which the walrus carries in an horizontal direction, the manati has only a large tail, which spreads out like a fan, so that at first sight it seems as if the tail of the first was divided into three parts, and that in the latter they were all united into one; but from a more attentive inspection, and particularly by dissection, we find that there is no such union, that there are no vestiges of the bones which form the thighs and legs, and that the tail of the manati is composed of simple isolated vertebræ, like those of cetaceous animals, who have no feet. Therefore this animal partakes of the cetaceous nature in the hinder parts of its body, and of a quadruped by the two fore-feet, or hands, on each side of the breast. Oviedo seems to be the first author who has given any sort of history or description of the manati; he says, “This is a very clumsy and mishapen animal, having the head thicker than that of an ox, with small eyes, and two feet, or hands, placed near the head, which serve him for the purpose of swimming. He has no scales, but is covered with a skin or rather a thick hide: he is a peaceable animal, and feeds upon the herbage by the river sides, which he can reach without entirely quitting the water. To take the manati they row themselves in a boat, or on a raft, as near the animal as possible, and then dart a very strong arrow at him, to the end of which a long cord is fastened: feeling himself wounded he instantly swims away, or plunges to the bottom; but the cord has a cork, or piece of wood, fastened to the end of it, which serves as a buoy, and directs them which way he takes. When the animal begins to grow weak through the loss of blood, he swims towards the shore; the cord is then wound up, and the animal drawn within arm’s length of the boat, where they dispatch him with spears, &c. He is so heavy that he requires two oxen to draw him. His flesh is excellent eating, is much esteemed when fresh, but more so when cut in pieces and pickled; in which state it acquires the flavour of the tunny fish. Some of these animals measure more than fifteen feet in length by six in thickness; the body becomes narrow towards the tail, and then spreads gradually broader towards the end. He has no external ears, but only two holes for the sense of hearing: his skin is tough and hard, an inch thick, of an ash colour, and has a few scattered hairs, or bristles, on it. The female has two paps on her breast, and generally brings forth two young ones at a time, which she suckles.”[J] All these facts mentioned by Oviedo are true, and it is remarkable that Cieça, and many others after him, should affirm, that the manati leaves the water very often to feed upon land. They have been led into this error, from the analogy of the walrus and seals, which have this natural habit; but it is certain, that the manati never quits the water, and that he prefers fresh water to salt.

Clusius saw and measured the skin of one of these animals, and found it sixteen feet and a half long, and seven feet and a half broad; the two feet were very broad, and the claws short. Gomara asserts, that he has sometimes met with them twenty feet long; and adds, that these animals frequent fresh-water rivers as well as the sea. He says, a young one was reared in a lake in the island of St. Domingo for twenty-six years; that he was so docile and tame, that he came quietly for the food which was offered to him; that he was so intelligent as to come out of the water when called, and crawl to the house to receive his victuals; that he seemed delighted with the human voice; that he was fond of children, would suffer them to sit upon his back, and carry them from one end of the lake to the other, without plunging them into the water; and that he had no kind of fear. These circumstances cannot all be true; some of them seem adapted to the fable of the dolphin related by the ancients, for the manati cannot possibly crawl on the ground.

Herrere says little with regard to this animal, and only asserts, that although very large, the manati swims with such facility, that his motion in the water is not heard; and that he immediately dives to the bottom, on hearing any noise.

Hernandes, who has given two figures of the manati, one in profile, and the other in front, adds very little to what other Spanish authors had said of it; he only mentions that there is a deformed beast called the mana’i, which inhabits the Atlantic and Pacific oceans; the descriptions of which he has chiefly taken from Oviedo; and then adds, that the hands of this animal have five nails like those of a man; that its navel and anus are wide; that the vulva of the female is like that of a woman, and the sexual organ of the male like that of a horse; that the flesh and fat are like those of a hog; that the ribs and viscera are like those of a bull; that they copulate on land, the female lying on her back, and that she brings forth but one young at a time, which is of a monstrous size at its birth. The copulation of these animals cannot be effected on land, since they are unable to walk, but it is on the contrary performed in shallow water. Binet says, that the manati is as big as an ox, and as round as a tun; that his head is small, and his tail short; that his skin is rough and thick like that of an elephant; that there are some of these animals so large, that one of them will yield more than six hundred weight of good eatable flesh; that his grease is as sweet as butter; that they delight to be near the mouth of rivers, where they browze upon the sea weeds, which grow on the banks; that at some few leagues distant from Cayenne, they are found in such numbers, that a few men expert in darting the harpoon, might get sufficient to load a vessel in one day. Father Tertre, who describes the fishery of the manati, agrees almost in every respect with the authors we have quoted; observing, however, that this animal has only four toes and four claws on each foot, or hand, and adding, that he feeds on a short vegetable which grows on the sea, and which he eats nearly in the same manner as the ox; that having pastured sufficiently, he makes to the rivers and fresh waters, where he moistens his food; and that his belly being full, he sleeps with his nose half way out of the water, so that he can be seen at a distance; that the female brings forth two young at a time, which follow her wherever she goes; and that when the mother is taken, they are sure of having the young, because they not only keep close to the body when she is dead, but even go continually round the vessel which is carrying her away. This last circumstance appears very suspicious, and is contradicted by other travellers, who assert, that the manati never brings forth more than one at a time; which is consistent with the nature of all other large quadruped or other cetaceous animals, so that analogy alone is sufficient to prevent our believing that the manati always brings forth two. Oxmelin remarks, that the tail of the manati is placed horizontally like that of the cetaceous animals, and not vertically like those of the scaly brood; that he has no fore teeth, but only a callosity as hard as a bone, with which he cuts the herbage; but that he has thirty-two grinders; that his sight is imperfect, on account of the smallness of his eyes, which have no iris and very little moisture; that he has an extremely small brain; but to remedy the defect of sight, he has a very quick ear; that he has no tongue; that the parts of generation are more like those of the human species than any other: that the milk of the female, which he asserts to have tasted, is very good; that they produce but one young at a time, which they embrace and hold with their hands; that the mother suckles it during a year, after which it is able to provide for itself: that this animal has fifty-two vertebræ; that it feeds like the turtle, but can neither walk nor crawl upon land. All these facts are very exact, and even that of the fifty-two vertebræ; for M. Daubenton in one he dissected found twenty-eight vertebræ in the tail, sixteen in the back, and six, or rather seven in the neck. This traveller is only deceived with respect to the tongue, which is not deficient in the manati, but affixed to the lower jaw almost to the extremity.

In the Voyage to the American islands, printed at Paris, 1722, we meet with a tolerable good description of the manati, and the manner in which it is taken by the harpoon. The author perfectly agrees with all the principal facts we have already mentioned; but he observes, “that this animal is become very rare in the Antilles since the coasts have been inhabited; and that the one which he saw and measured, was fourteen feet nine inches, from the muzzle to the tail: his head was very thick, with a large mouth and lips, which were furnished with coarse hairs; his eyes small in proportion to his head; and he had only two holes in the sides instead of ears; his neck was very thick and short, and but for the wrinkles occasioned by his motions, it would be impossible to tell his head from his body. Some authors pretend (he adds) that this animal makes use of his hands, or fins, to crawl upon land: I particularly endeavoured to inform myself respecting this fact, but could not hear of any person who had seen him out of water; and indeed, it is impossible for him to walk or crawl, since its fore-feet, or hands, only serve the female to hold the young while they suckle. The female has two round breasts, which I measured; they were each seven inches in diameter, and about four in their elevation: the nipple was about an inch thick; the body was eight feet two inches in circumference; the tail was like a large battledore, about nineteen inches long, fifteen inches broad at the widest part, and about three inches thick at its extremity. The skin on the back was about double the thickness of an ox’s hide, but much thinner on the belly; it was of a slate colour and of very coarse grain; the hairs, or bristles, were of the same colour as the skin, thinly scattered, but very thick, and long. This animal weighed about eight hundred pounds; and with it the young one was taken, which was nearly three feet long. A part of its tail was roasted, the flesh of which was as good and as delicate as veal. The herb upon which these animals feed is about eight or ten inches long, narrow pointed, tender, and of a fine green colour. This herb is so plenty in many places on the coasts, that the bottom of the sea has the appearance of a verdant meadow, and upon which the turtles also feed, &c.” Father Magnin de Fribourg says, that the manati feeds on such grass on the shores, as it is able to reach without quitting the water; that its eyes are not bigger than a filberd nut; that its ears are so narrow, that a needle can scarcely be passed into them; that within the ears are found two small bones, which the Indians wear about their necks; and that its cry resembles the lowing of a cow.

Gumilla states, that there are immense numbers of manati in the Great lakes of Oronooko, "These animals (says he) weigh from five to seven hundred pounds each; they feed upon grass; their eyes are small, and the holes for their ears still smaller. They pasture on the sea shores when the river is low. The female always brings forth two young ones, which she carries at her paps, and grasps them so strongly with her two hands that they cannot fall off, the milk of the female is very thick. Under its thick skin, four beds, or layers, are met with, two of which are of fat, and the other two of a very delicate and savoury flesh, which, when roasted, has the smell of pork and the taste of veal. These animals, when a storm of rain approaches, leap out of the water to a considerable height." Gumilla seems to be mistaken, as well as Tertre, in asserting that the female brings forth two young at a time, since it is almost a certainty, as has been already observed, that she produces no more than one.

Upon the whole, M. de Condamine, who favoured us with a drawing, which he himself made of the manati in the Amazon river, speaks with greater precision than any other author on the natural habits of this animal. "Its flesh and fat (says he) have a great resemblance to veal. Father Acuna makes its resemblance to the ox still more complete, by giving it horns, which Nature never provided. It is not, properly speaking, amphibious, since it cannot entirely leave the water, having only two flat fins close to the head, about sixteen inches long, and which serve the animal instead of arms and hands. It only raises its head out of the water to feed on the herbage upon the shore. That of which I drew the figure was a female; it was about seven feet and a half long, and its greatest breadth two feet: I have since seen some much larger. The eyes of this animal have no proportion to the size of its body; the orifice of its ears is still less, and only seems like a hole made by a pin. The manati is not peculiar to the Amazon river, being not less common in the Oronooko. It is also found, though less frequently, in the Oyapoc, and many other rivers in the environs of Cayenne, and on the coast of Guiana, and probably in other parts."

This is nearly all the precise matter which we can collect respecting this animal. It were to be wished that the inhabitants of Cayenne, among whom there are several admirers of Natural History, would make some observations on this animal, and give us a description of its internal parts, especially those of respiration, digestion and generation. There seems, though we are not certain, to be a great bone in the genital member, and a foramen ovale in the heart; that its lungs are of a singular conformation; and that it has several stomachs, like ruminating animals.

To conclude: the species of the manati is not confined to the seas and rivers of the New World, but exists also in those of Africa. M. Adanson saw them at Senegal, whence he brought one of their heads, which he presented to me, and at the same time communicated the following description of this animal, which he made on the spot, and which I have thought it proper wholly to transcribe. “I saw many of these animals, the largest was not more than eight feet long, and weighed about eight hundred pounds. A female, which was five feet three inches long, weighed only one hundred and ninety-four pounds. They are of a dark ash colour, and have hairs scattered over their bodies, very long, and like bristles. The head is conical, and of a middling size, with respect to the bulk of the body. The eyes are round and very small; the iris is of a deep blue, and the pupil black. The muzzle is almost cylindrical; its cheeks are nearly of an equal breadth, and the lips are fleshy and very thick. The only teeth they have either in the upper or lower jaw are grinders. The tongue is of an oval form, and joined almost to the end of the lower jaw. It is remarkable that almost every author and traveller have described this animal with ears. I have not been able to perceive a hole sufficient even to admit a small probe. It has two arms, or fins, placed close to the head, which is not distinguishable from the rest of the body by any kind of neck, nor even any apparent shoulders. These arms are nearly cylindrical, composed of three articulations, the foremost of which is flat, and like the palm of the hand, the fingers of which are only to be distinguished by four claws of a bright brownish red colour; its tail is horizontal, like that of the whale, and is partly of the form of a baker’s shovel. The female has two breasts, rather elliptic than round, placed near the arm-pits. The skin is thin on the belly, thick on the back, but thickest of all on the head. The fat is white, and two or three inches thick; the flesh is of a pale red colour, and more delicate than veal. The lolof negroes call this animal lereou; it feeds on herbage, and is to be found at the mouth of the Black Sea.”

By this description we find that the manati of Senegal does not differ in any particular from that of Cayenne; and from a comparison made of the head of the Senegal manati with that of a fœtus of the Cayenne lamantin by M. Daubenton, he presumes that they are of the same species. The testimony of travellers also agrees with our opinion; Dampier in particular speaks positively, and his observations deserve a place in our history. “It is not only in Blewfield river, which springs between the rivers Nicaraga and Veraga, that I have seen the manati: I have also seen them in the Bay of Campeachy, on the coast of Bocca del Drago, and Bocca del Toro, in the river of Darien, and in the small southern islands of Cuba: I have heard it said that there are a few found on the north of Jamaica, and many in Surinam river, which is a very low country. I have likewise seen them at Mindanea, one of the Philippine islands, and on the coast of New Holland. This animal is fond of brackish water, therefore he most commonly inhabits those rivers which border on the sea. This is possibly the reason why we never meet with any in the South Seas, where the coast is generally high, and the water very deep near land, except in the Bay of Panama; but even there the manati is not to be met with; but the West-Indies being, as it were, a great bay composed of a number of small ones, are generally low land and shallow water, and consequently afford a food which is agreeable to the manati. They are sometimes seen in salt water, sometimes in fresh, but seldom very far from shore. Those which inhabit the sea, and places where there are no rivers that they can enter, come to the mouth of the nearest fresh-water rivers which they find, once or twice in twenty-four hours. They feed on a narrow herbage which grows on the sides of the shores, especially in places where the tides or currents are not very strong. They never go on shore, but always keep in a depth of water where they can swim. Their flesh is sweet, and very good food; their skin is also of great utility. The manati and the tortoise are commonly found in the same parts of the world, and feed on the same herbage.”[K]

THE NOMENCLATURE OF APES.

IN the history of these animals we shall not follow the pedantic method of schools, which lays down arbitrary maxims as real, and falsities as truth; such documents are eagerly imbibed by children, but are judiciously rejected by men, if not founded on solid principles. We shall, therefore, to avoid such imaginary methodical distributions, which have been of no other use than to heap a multiplicity, and even distinct species, of animals into one indiscriminate mass.

What I call an Ape is an animal with a flat visage, and without a tail, whose teeth, fingers, nails, and hands, resemble those of the human species, and who also walks upright on its two feet. This definition, drawn from the nature of the animal, and its resemblance to man, will exclude every animal that has a tail, or a long snout, crooked or pointed claws, or whose nature obliges them to walk more willingly on four feet than on two. After this fixed and precise rule, let us examine to what animals the name of Ape can properly be applied. The ancients knew only one; the pithecos of the Greeks, and the simia of the Latins, is the real ape, and on which Aristotle, Pliny, and Galen, have instituted all their physical comparisons, and founded all their relations of the ape to mankind. But this ape of the ancients, which so greatly resembles man in its external form, and still more in its internal organization, nevertheless differs from him in an essential point, namely, magnitude. The size of the human species is generally above five feet, while that of the pithecos is seldom more than a fourth of that height. Therefore, if this animal had a still greater resemblance to the human species, the ancients would have had reason to regard it only as an homunculus, a dwarf, or a pigmy, capable only of attacking small animals, while man knew how to subdue the elephant, and even to conquer the lion.

But since the discovery of the southern parts of Africa and India, another animal of this kind has been found, which possesses this attribute of size; an ape as tall and as strong as man, and equally as ardent after a woman as its own females; a species which are sagacious enough to make use of stones to attack their enemies, and sticks to defend themselves, and which resembles the human species still more than the pithecos, for, independently of its having no tail, a flat face, arms, hands, teeth, and nails, like those of a man, and, like him walking erect, it has a kind of visage, with features, approaching to those of mankind: its ears are of the same form; it has a beard on its chin, and not more hair on its body than man in his natural state. From these resemblances the more polished Indians have not hesitated to associate it among the human species, by the name of orang-outang, or wild man of the woods; while the Negroes, who are really as savage, and almost as ugly, as those animals, and who are not of opinion that civilization exalts our nature, have denominated it pongo, which signifies a beast, and has no relation to man. In fact this orang-outang is not only a brute but a very singular one, which man cannot look upon, without contemplating himself, and being convinced that his external form is not the most essential part of his nature.

Here then are two animals, the pithecos and the orang-outang, which must be ranked among the ape kind. There is also a third, to which, though more deformed, we cannot refuse that appellation; until very lately this animal was scarcely known, it was brought from the East Indies by the name of gibbon; like the other two it walks erect, is without a tail, and has a flat face; but its arms, instead of being proportioned to its height, are of such extraordinary length, that when it stands erect on its two feet, it touches the ground with its hands, without the smallest inclination of its body.

Next to these apes, we meet with another race of animals, which we shall indicate by the generic name of the baboon; and to distinguish them clearly from every other animal of the kind, it is necessary to observe that the baboon has a short tail, a long face, a broad muzzle, with canine teeth, larger in proportion than that of man, and callosities on its rump. By this definition, we exclude from this race all the apes which have no tails, all the monkies whose tails are as long, or longer than their bodies, and all the makis, loris, and other four-handed animals, that have their muzzles sharp and pointed. The ancients never had a proper name for these animals; Aristotle alone has pointed out one of those baboons by the name of simia porcaria, but gives a very imperfect indication of it in other respects. The Italians first called it babuino, the Germans bavion, the French babouin, the English baboon, and every modern author, who has written of it in Latin, papio. We shall therefore term it baboon, to distinguish it from the other species since discovered in the southern provinces of Africa and India. We are acquainted with three kinds of these animals. 1. The baboon, which is found in Arabia, &c. and which, probably, is the simia porcaria of Aristotle. 2. The mandrill, which is larger than the baboon, whose face is of a bluish colour, and furrowed with deep and oblique wrinkles; this is a native of Guinea, and the hottest parts of Africa. 3. The ouanderou, which is less than the baboon and mandrill; its head and face is surrounded with a very thick and long hair, and has a large white beard; it is seen in Ceylon, Malabar, and other southern parts of India. Thus we have precisely defined three species of the ape, and three of the baboon, and all of them very distinctly differing from each other.

But as Nature acts on one regular plan, connected and extended throughout all her works, and as her progress is always by minute degrees, there must be an intermediate species between the ape and the baboon. This intermediate species actually exists, and is, in fact, to be found in the magot, which fills up the chasm between the other two. It differs from the first in having a long muzzle and large canine teeth; and varies from the second, in not having any tail, although there is a small protuberance of skin at that part, which has something of that appearance. This animal, consequently, is neither an ape, nor a baboon, yet, at the same time, partakes of the nature of both. The magot, which is a very common animal in Upper Egypt, as well as in Barbary, was known to the ancients. The Greeks and Latins denominated it cynocephalus, because its muzzle resembles that of a dog. These animals, then, must be ranged in the following order: orang-outang, or pongo, is the first ape; the pithecos, the second; the gibbon, the third; the cynocephalus, or magot, the fourth ape, or the first baboon. The papio, the first baboon; the mandrill, the second; and the ouanderou, the third. This order is neither arbitrary nor fictitious, but strictly conformable to the steps of Nature.

After the species of apes and baboons, immediately follow the guenons, or monkies; that is, animals which resemble the two former, but which have tails as long, or longer than their bodies. The word guenon was anciently employed, sometimes to denote a small ape, and at others, the female; it has also been used in the sense we now take it, to denote the apes with long tails, and was probably derived from the word kébos, which the Greeks made use of for that very purpose. Of these guenons, or monkies, we know of nine species, which we shall distinguish by different names, to avoid confusion, and for the sake of regularity. The first of these is the macaque; the second, the patas, or red monkey; the third, the malbrouck; the fourth, the mangabey; the fifth the mone; the sixth, the callitrix, or green monkey; the seventh, the moustac; the eighth, the talapoin; and the ninth, the douc, so called in Cochin-China, of which country it is a native. The ancients knew only two of this class, the mone and the callitrix, which inhabit Arabia and the northern parts of Africa; they had not the least idea of any other, for they are only to be found in the southern provinces of Africa and the East Indies, countries absolutely unknown in the time of Aristotle. This great philosopher, and the Greeks in general, were so careful to affix proper names to different animals, that they denominated the ape without a tail, pithecos, and the monkey with a long tail, kébos, both of which they carefully drew from the most apparent character of these animals. All the apes and baboons which they knew, had a uniform colour; on the contrary, the monkey which we call mone, and the Greeks, kébos, has hair of different colours, and is vulgarly called the variegated monkey; this species was the most common of all those animals in the time of Aristotle; and from this character it obtained the name of kébos, which in Greek signifies a variety of colours. Thus all the animals of the ape, baboon, and monkey kind, mentioned by Aristotle, may be reduced to four, the pithecos, the cynocephalus, the simia porcaria, and the kébos; which we think ourselves sufficiently justified to rank as the pithecos or pigmy, the magot, the baboon, and the mone, not only because their particular characters perfectly agree with those mentioned by Aristotle, but also, because the other species must have been absolutely unknown to him, since they are natives of those countries into which the Greek travellers of his time had not penetrated.

Two or three ages after Aristotle, we meet with two new names in the Greek authors, callithrix and cercopithecos, both relative to the long-tailed monkey. In proportion as discoveries were made, in the southern regions of Africa and Asia, we meet with new animals, and other species of monkies; and as most of these monkies likewise were not of various colours like the kébos, the Greeks composed the generic name of cercopithecos, that is, the ape with a tail, to denote all the species of monkies, or apes with long tails; and having discovered among them one of a beautiful green colour, they called it callithrix, which signifies beautiful hair. This callithrix is found in the southern parts of Mauritania, and in the neighbouring countries of Cape Verd, and commonly known by the name of the green ape.

With respect to the other seven species of monkies, which we have indicated by the names of Macaque, Patas, Malbrouck, Mangabey, Moustac, Talapoin, and Douc, they were unknown to the ancients. The macaque is a native of Congo, the patas of Senegal, the mangabey of Madagascar, the malbrouk of Bengal, the moustac of Guinea, the talapoin of Siam, and the douc of Cochin-China; all these places were equally unknown to the ancients, and we have been careful to preserve the original names affixed to them in their native countries.

But as Nature always proceeds in a regular and gradual manner, never leaving any chasms, we meet with an intermediate species between the baboon and monkey, like that of the magot between the ape and the baboon. The animal which fills up this interval, greatly resembles the monkey, especially the macaque, but it has a broad muzzle, and short tail, like the baboon. Being ignorant of its proper name, we have called it the maimon, to distinguish it from other animals of this kind. It is a native of Sumatra, and is the only animal, as well among the baboon as the monkey species, that has no hair on its tail; and upon that account it has been described by the denomination of the pig-tailed or rat-tailed ape.

Thus we have enumerated all the animals of the old continent, to which the common name of ape has been given, though they are not only of very distant species, but even of very different genera. But what has completed the error and confusion in the arrangement of these animals is, that the names of ape, cynocephalus, kébos, cercopithecos, which were invented by the Greeks fifteen hundred years ago, have been given to animals of the new continent, which have been discovered within these two or three centuries. They knew not that the animals of Africa and of the East Indies, were not to be found in the southern parts of the new continent. Animals have been found in America with hands and fingers, and this character alone was thought sufficient to give them the appellation of apes, without considering that for transferring a name it was requisite that the animals should be of the same genus, and to apply it justly, of the same identical species. Now the animals of America, of which we shall form two classes, by the names of sapajous and sagoins, are very different from all the monkeys of Asia and Africa; and in the same manner as there are neither apes, monkeys, nor baboons, to be found in the new continent, so likewise there are neither the sapajous nor sagoins to be found in the old. Though we have already mentioned these facts in general, in our dissertation concerning the animals of the two continents, we can here prove it in a more particular manner, and demonstrate, that of seventeen species, to which number we may reduce all the ape species in the old continent, and of twelve or thirteen, to which this name of ape has been transferred in the new, there is not any of them alike, or to be found in both continents, for of the seventeen in the old we must first retrench three or four of the apes, who do not exist in America, and to whom the sapajous and the sagoins have no resemblance. Secondly, we must also retrench three or four of the baboons, which are much larger than the sagoins or the sapajous, and also of a very different form; there remains, therefore, only nine monkeys of the old continent with whom any comparison can be made. Now this species of monkeys, as well as the apes and baboons, have particular and general characters, which entirely separate them from the sapajous and sagoins. The first of these characters consists in the rump being bare, on which are natural callosities peculiar to those parts. The second is the having pouches on each side of the jaw, in which the animal can store its food. The third is in the make of the nostrils, which are narrow, and the apertures placed in the under parts, like those of man. The sapajous and sagoins have not one of these characters. The partition between their nostrils is very thick, and the apertures are placed on the sides of the nose, and not below it. They have hair on their posteriors, and no callosities; they have no pouches on each side of their jaws; and hence these animals differ not only in species but even in genus, since they have not any of the general characters common to the whole tribe of monkeys; and this difference in genus supposes still greater in the species, and demonstrates them to be quite distinct from each other.

The names of ape and monkey, therefore, have been very improperly applied to the sapajous and the sagoins. We must preserve their original names, and instead of ranking them with the apes, we should begin by comparing them together. These two families differ from each other by a very remarkable character. All the sapajous make use of their tails like a finger to hang by, and to procure what they cannot reach with their hands. The sagoins, on the contrary, cannot make use of their tail in that manner. Their face, ears, and hair, are also different; we may, therefore, very properly divide them into two distinct races.

Avoiding the use of denominations, which can only be applied to the monkey, baboon, or ape, we have endeavoured to indicate the sapajous and the sagoins by the names they bear in their native country. We are acquainted with six or seven species of sapajous, and six of the sagoins, most of which have varieties. We have carefully searched after their names in all authors, and particularly in the writings of observant travellers who have first mentioned them, because, in general, the names which any one of them have in their native country is derived from some particular character, which alone was sufficient to distinguish it from all the rest. With respect to the varieties, which in this class of animals are, perhaps, more numerous than the species, we have endeavoured to refer each to its respective species. We have had in our possession forty of these animals alive, differing from each other in a greater or less degree, and from a particular and attentive examination of which, we think the whole may be reduced to thirty species, viz. three apes, and one intermediate species between them and the baboons; three baboons, and one intermediate species between them and the monkeys; nine monkeys, seven sapajous, and six sagoins; the rest, or at least the greatest part of them, ought to be considered only as varieties. But as we are not absolutely certain that some of these varieties may not be distinct species, we shall endeavour to give all of them proper denominations.

Here, then, let us consider terrestrial animals, some of which so greatly resemble the human form, in a new point of view. The affixing the name of quadruped to all these animals has been done unjustly. If the exceptions were few we should not have objected to the application of this term. We are convinced that our definitions and names, however general, do not comprehend the whole; that there exists particular beings, which escape the most cautious definitions, and that intermediate species are constantly discovered. We know that many, though to all appearance holding the middle station, have escaped enumeration, and that the general names under which they are included is incomplete; because Nature should never be considered in the aggregate, but by unities only, because man has invented general names only to assist his memory, and because he afterwards weakly regarded those general names as realities; in short, because he has endeavoured to comprehend, under the same denominations, very different animals, and which necessarily required other appellations. I can give both example and proof, without swerving from the class of quadrupeds, which, of all animals, are those best known to man, and to which he was, consequently, the best enabled to give the most precise denominations.

The name of quadruped supposes an animal with four feet. If it be deficient in two, like the manati; if it have hands and arms like the ape; or if it have wings like the bat; it is not a quadruped: therefore this general denomination is erroneous when applied to either of those animals. In order to speak with precision, there should be truth in the ideas which the words represent; for instance, let us find a word to convey a perfect idea of an animal with two hands; if we had a term to denote a two-handed animal, as well as one with two feet, we might then say, that man alone is biped and bimanous, because he alone has two hands and two feet; that the manati is only bimanous; that the bat is only a biped; and the ape a quadrimanous, or four-handed animal. Let us now apply these new denominations to every particular being with which they agree, and we shall discover, that from the two hundred species of animals to which we have given the common name of quadrupeds, there are thirty-five sorts of apes, baboons, monkeys, sapajous, sagoins, and makis, must be retrenched, as they are quadrimanous, or four-handed; and that to those thirty-five species we must add the lori, the murine, Virginian and Mexican opossums, and the jerboas, which are also quadrimanous, like those above-mentioned, and that, consequently, the list of four-handed animals being at least composed of forty species, the real number of quadrupeds will be reduced one fifth part. If afterwards we take out twelve or fifteen species of bipeds, namely, the bats, whose fore-feet may rather be called wings than feet, and also three or four jerboas, because they can only walk on their hind feet, those before being too short; if we remove also the manati, which has no hind feet, and the different species of the walrus, and the seal, to which animals they are entirely useless, the number of quadrupeds will be found diminished a third more; and if we still subtract those animals which make use of their fore-feet like hands, as the bears, marmots, coatis, squirrels, rats, and many others, the denomination of quadrupeds will appear to be misapplied to more than one half of these animals. In fact real quadrupeds consist only of whole and cloven-footed animals. When we descend to the digitated class, we find four-handed, or ambiguous quadrupeds, who use their fore-feet in the manner of hands, and which ought to be distinguished or separated from the rest. There are three species of whole hoofed animals, the horse, the zebra, and the ass; and, by adding the elephant, the rhinoceros, the hippopotamus, and the camel, whose feet, though terminated by nails, are solid, and only serve for the purpose of walking, we shall have seven species to which the name of quadruped perfectly applies.

There is a much greater number of cloven-footed than whole-hoofed animals. The oxen, the sheep, the goat, the antelope, the bubalus, the lama, the pacos, the elk, the rein-deer, the stag, the fallow-deer, the roe-buck, &c. are all cloven-footed, and compose all together full forty-species. Thus, we have already fifty animals, ten whole hoofed, and forty cloven-footed, to which the name of quadruped has been rightly applied. In the digitated animals, the lion, tiger, panther, leopard, lynx, cat, wolf, fox, dog, hyæna, civet, badger, weasel, ferret, porcupine, hedge hog, armadillo, ant-eaters, and hog, which last constitutes the shade between digitated and cloven-footed tribes, add more than forty other species, to which the name of quadruped also applies in all the rigour of its acceptation; because, though their fore-feet are divided into four or five toes, they never use them as hands; but all the other digitated species who use their fore-feet to hold and carry food to their mouths, are not, in strict propriety, quadrupeds. Those species, which are also forty in number, form an intermediate class between quadrupeds and four-handed animals, and are in fact neither one nor the other. Therefore, to more than a fourth of our animals, the name of quadruped does not apply; and with more than one half it does not agree in all the extent of its acceptation.

The four-handed animals fill up the great chasm between the quadruped and the human species. The two handed are in the distance between man and the cetaceous tribes. The bipeds with wings are the shade between quadrupeds and birds; and the digitated species who use their fore-feet as hands, fill up all the degrees between the quadrupeds and the four-handed kinds. But this subject is too extensive to be here pursued; however useful it might be to give a distinct knowledge of animals, it is still more so by furnishing us with a new proof, that not any of our definitions are precise, nor our general terms exact, when specifically applied to objects, or to beings which they represent.

But why are these definitions and general terms, which seem to be the master-piece of invention, so exceedingly defective? Is this error the defect of human understanding? or rather, is it not an incapacity, or pure inability, of combining, and perceiving a number of objects at one view? Let us compare the works of nature with those of man: let us examine how both operate, and then enquire whether the human mind, however active and extensive, can follow the same route, without being lost either in the immensity of space, the obscurity of time, or in the infinite combinations of beings? Let a man direct his mind to any object if he would avoid being misled, he must walk in a direct line, pass over the least space, and employ the least possible time to accomplish his end. But in this pursuit, what a number of reflections and combinations must he make to avoid those deceitful and fallacious roads which at first offer themselves in such numbers, that it requires the greatest and nicest discernment to choose the true and direct path? This path, however, is not beyond the depth of the human mind; and by this only sure and solid method he arrives at the destined point of view; but if he seeks another point, it can only be obtained by another line. The train of our ideas is a delicate thread, which only extends in length without any other dimensions; while Nature, on the contrary, does not take a single step, without extending on all sides, and passing at once through the three dimensions of length, breadth and thickness; while man attains but one single point, she embraces all, and penetrates into every part of a solid mass. By the power of art, and length of time, our statuaries form a figure which externally resembles the object proposed; each point of this surface requires a thousand combinations. Their genius travels over as many lines as there are lineaments in the figure, and the least false step would deform it. This piece of marble, so perfectly executed that it seems to breathe, is, therefore, only a multitude of points to which the artist arrives by labour and time; for human genius being unable to seize more than one dimension at a time, and our senses reaching no further than surfaces, we cannot penetrate the substance; while, Nature, on the contrary, designs and enters into the depth of things; she produces forms almost instantaneously; she at once expands them in all their dimensions; as soon as her movements reach the surface, the penetrating powers with which she is animated, operate internally. The smallest atom, when she chooses to make use of it, is obliged to obey her will. Her actions, therefore, extend over all; she travels above, below, to the right and left, and consequently, she not only encompasses the surface, but every particle of the mass. What difference there consequently is in the result? What comparison can be made between a statue and an organised body? But also what inequality in their powers, and how disproportioned the instruments! Man can only make use of the power he possesses. Confined to a small quantity of motion, which he can only communicate by impulsion, he can only exert himself upon surfaces; since the power of impulsion in general is only transmitted by superficial contact. He only sees and touches, therefore, the surfaces of bodies, and when he attempts to proceed further, though he opens, divides, and separates, he still touches nothing more than surfaces. To penetrate the interior parts of bodies, he should be possessed of a portion of that power which acts upon the mass, or of gravity, which is Nature’s chief instrument. It is, therefore, the defect of instruments which prevents the art of man from approaching that of Nature. His figures, his pictures, his designs, are only surfaces, or imitations of surfaces, because the images he receives by his senses are all superficial, and he is unable to give them the internal parts.

What is true with regard to the arts is the same as to sciences, only that the latter is less confined, because the mind is the instrument, and which in the former is subordinate to the senses. But in the sciences the mind commands the senses, as its only endeavour is to search into objects, and not to operate on them; to compare, and not imitate them. The mind, though thus cramped by the senses, though often abused by their false reports, is, notwithstanding, neither less pure nor less active. Man, who has a natural desire to knowledge, began by rectifying, and demonstrating the errors of the senses. He has treated them as mechanical organs, as instruments, the effects of which must be left to experience. Pursuing still his desire of knowledge, he has travelled on with the balance in one hand, and the compass in the other, and has measured both time and space. Thus, he has recognized all the exterior parts of Nature’s works, but not being able to penetrate her internal parts by his senses, he has drawn his conclusions and formed a judgment of them by analogy and comparison. He discovered that there exists a general force in matter, quite different from that of impulsion; a force which does not come within the compass of our senses, and which, though we are unable to make use of, Nature employs as an universal agent. He has demonstrated, that this force belongs equally to all matter, in proportion to its mass or real quantity; that its action extends to immense distances, decreasing as the space augments. Afterwards, turning his eyes upon living beings, he found, that heat was another force necessary to their production; that light was a matter endowed with an unbounded elasticity and activity; that the formation and expansion of organized beings were the effects of a combination of all these forces; that the extension and growth of animal or vegetable bodies, follow exactly the laws of attraction, and are effected by an increase of all three dimensions at the same time; and that a mould, when once formed, must, according to these laws of affinity, produce a succession of others exactly resembling the original. By combining these attributes, common to animal and vegetable Nature, he discovered, that there existed in both an inexhaustible and reversible fund of organic and living substance; a substance as real as the unformed matter; a substance which continues always in its live as the other does in its inactive state; a substance universally diffused, passing from vegetables to animals by means of nutrition, returning from animals to vegetables by the process of putrefaction, and maintaining an incessant circulation for the animation of beings. He also remarked, that these organic particles existed in every organized body; that they were combined in greater or less quantities with dead matter; that they were more abundant in animals where all is full of life, and more scarce in vegetables where the dead matter predominates, and the living seems to be extinct; where the organic matter, overpowered by the rude, has neither progressive motion, sensation, heat, nor life, and is only manifested by its unfolding and reproduction. Reflecting on the manner each operates, he discovered, that every living being is a mould that possesses the power of assimilating the substances by which it is nourished; that growth is an effect of this assimilation, that the unfolding of a living body is not a simple augmentation of bulk, but an extension in every dimension, and a penetration of new matter into every part of the whole mass; that those parts increasing in proportion to the whole, and the whole in proportion to the parts, the form is preserved, and remains always the same till the growth is completed; that when the body has acquired all its extent, the same matter heretofore employed in the augmentation, is sent back as superfluous from every part to which it had been assimilated; and that, by uniting in one common point, it forms a new being, perfectly like the first, and which to attain the same dimensions, requires only to be expanded by the same mode of nutrition. He also observed that man, quadrupeds, cetaceous animals, birds, reptiles, insects, trees, plants, and herbs, were all nourished, unfolded, and reproduced by the same universal law; and that the manner of their nutrition and generation appearing so different, although dependent on one general and common cause, was because it could not operate but in a mode relative to the form of each particular species of being. To acquire these grand truths, required a succession of ages, and gradual investigation, but having obtained so much, he began to compare different objects together; and to distinguish one from the other, he gave them particular names, and invented general denominations to reunite them under one point of view. He observed, by taking the body of man as the physical model of every living animal, and by comparing and examining every living animal in their several parts, that the form of every thing that breathes is nearly the same; that the anatomy of a man and an ape are similar; that every animal has the same organization, the same senses, the same viscera, the same bones, the same flesh, the same motion of the fluids, and the same action in the solids. In all of them he has found a heart, veins, and arteries; the same organs of circulation, respiration, digestion, nutrition, and secretion; the same solid structure, erected with the same materials, and put together nearly in the same manner. This plan he found to proceed uniformly from mankind to the monkey, from the monkey to quadrupeds, from quadrupeds to the cetaceous animals, and so on to birds, fish, and reptiles. This plan, I say, when well comprehended by the human understanding, exhibits a faithful picture of animated nature, and affords the most simple and general view under which she can possibly be considered; and when we extend it by passing from the animal to the vegetable, we shall find this plan, which we at first found varying only by shades, degenerate by degrees from reptiles to insects, from insects to worms, from worms to zoophytes, and from zoophytes to plants; and though changed in all its exterior parts, nevertheless, still preserving the same character; the principal features of which are nutrition, expansion, and reproduction. These features are general and common to every organized substance, they are eternal and divine; and, far from being effaced or destroyed by time, are only renewed and rendered more plain and evident.

If, from this great picture of resemblances, in which the living universe presents itself as but one family, we pass to that of the differences, wherein each species claims a separate place, and a distinct portrait, we shall perceive, that excepting some of the larger species, such as the elephant, the rhinoceros, the hippopotamus, the tiger, and the lion, every other seems to unite with its neighbouring kind, and to form groups of degraded similitudes, or genera, which our nomenclators have represented in a network of figures, some of which are connected by the feet, and others by the teeth, horns, hair, and others by still smaller affinities. And even the apes, whose form appears to be the most perfect, that is, approaches nearest to that of man, are represented confusedly, and require very accurate observations to distinguish one from the other, because the privilege of separate species is less owing to form than size. Man himself, although a single species, and infinitely removed from that of all other animals, yet being only of a middle size, has more approximations than the larger kinds. We shall find in the history of the orang-outang that if we were only to attend to the figure, we might look on that, animal either as the termination of the human species, or the commencement of the ape; because, except the intellect, he is not deficient in any one thing which we possess, and because, in his body, he differs less from man than from the other animals to which we have given the denomination of apes.

The mind, thought, and speech, therefore do not depend on the form or organization of the body. Nothing more strongly proves that they are peculiar gifts bestowed on man alone, than that the orang-outang which neither speaks nor thinks, has, nevertheless, the body, the limbs, the senses, the skull, and the tongue exactly similar to man. He can counterfeit every motion of the human species, and yet cannot perfectly perform one single act; which may possibly be owing to a defect of education, or perhaps yet more to an error in our judgment. You unjustly compare, it may be said, an ape, who is a native of the forests, with the man who resides in polished society. To form a proper judgment between them, a savage man and an ape should be viewed together; for we have no just idea of man in a pure state of nature. The head covered with bristly hairs, or with curled wool; the face partly hid by a long beard, and still longer hairs in the front, which surround his eyes, destroy his august character, and make them appear sunk in his head, like those of the brutes; the lips thick and projecting, the nose flat, the aspect wild or stupid; the ears, body, and limbs are covered with hair; the nails long, thick, and crooked; a callous substance like a horn under the soles of the feet; the breasts of the female long and flabby, and the skin of her belly hanging down to her knees; the children wallowing in filth, and crawling on their hands and feet; and the father and mother sitting on their hams, forming a hideous appearance, rendered more so by being besmeared all over with stinking grease. This sketch, drawn from a savage Hottentot, is still a flattering portrait, for there is as great a distance between a man in a pure state of nature and a Hottentot, as there is between a Hottentot and us. But if we wish to compare the human species with that of the ape, we must add to it the affinities of organization, the agreements of temperament, the vehement desire of male apes for women, the like conformation of the genitals in both sexes, the periodic emanations of the females, the compulsive or voluntary intermixture of the negresses with the apes, the produce of which has united into both species; and then consider, supposing them not of the same species, how difficult it is to discover the interval by which they are separated.

I acknowledge, if we were forced to judge by external appearance alone, the ape might be taken for a variety in the human species. The Creator has not formed man’s body on a model absolutely different from that of the mere animal; he has comprehended his figure, as well as that of every other animal, under one general plan, but at the same time that he has given him a material form, similar to that of the ape, he infused this animal body with a divine spirit. If he had granted the same favour, not to the ape, but to the meanest animal, whose organization seems to us to be the worst of all constructed beings, this animal would soon have become the rival of man. Quickened by his spirit it would have excelled every other animal, by having the power of thought and speech. Therefore, whatever resemblance there may be between the Hottentot and the ape, the interval which separates them is immense, since the former is endowed with the faculties of thinking and speaking.

Who will ever be able to tell in what the organization of an idiot differs from that of another man? yet the defect is certainly in the material organs, since the idiot has a soul like another person. Now, since in mankind, where the whole structure is entirely conformable, and perfectly similar, a difference so trifling as to be entirely imperceptible is sufficient to destroy thought, we must not be astonished that it never appears in the ape, which has not the necessary principle.

The action of the soul in general is distinct and independent of matter. But as it has pleased the Divine Author to unite it with the body, the exercise of its particular actions depends on the state of the material organs; and this dependance is not only apparent from the example of idiots but from persons afflicted with delirium, from infants who cannot think, from healthful men when asleep, and from very old people, after the power of thinking is gone. Even the principle of education seems to consist not so much in instructing the mind, or bringing its operation to perfection, as in modifying the material organs, and putting them into the most favourable condition for exercising the thinking principle. Now there are two kinds of educations which should be carefully distinguished, as their effects are quite different; the education of the individual, which is common both to man and the other animals, and that of the species which belongs to man alone. A young animal, as well from incitement as example, learns in a few weeks to perform all the actions of its parents: a child requires a number of years to attain this degree of perfection, because when born its growth and strength is incomparably less forward than in young animals. In the first years the mind is a void relatively to what it becomes in future. A child, therefore, is much slower in receiving individual education than that of the brute; but for this very reason it becomes susceptible of that of the species. The multiplicity of aids, and the continual cares, which for a long time, the weak state of the infant exact, entertain and increase the attachment of its parents, and while they are attending to the care of the body, they cultivate the mind. The time required to strengthen the first, turns to the profit of the latter. In the generality of animals the corporeal faculties are more advanced in two months than those of an infant in two years; there is, therefore, twelve times as much time employed in its individual education, without reckoning what is still remaining to acquire after this period, without considering that animals quit their young as soon as they are able to provide for themselves, and that soon after this separation they know each other no more, so that all attachment, and all education, ceases in them at the very moment assistance is no longer necessary. Now this time of education being so short, its effects must be very small; and it is even astonishing that animals acquire in two months whatever is necessary for their use during the rest of life: and if we suppose a child, in an equal space of time, should become sufficiently formed and strong to leave its parents, and never to return to them for assistance, would there be any sensible difference between this child and the brute animal? However ingenious and able the parents were, could they be able to prepare and modify its organs in so short a space of time, or to establish the least communication of thought between their minds and his? Could they be able to excite his memory by impressions sufficiently reiterated? Could they even modify or unfold their organs of speech? No, for before the child can pronounce a single word his ear must have received repeated impressions of the sound expressing that word; and, before he can be able to apply or pronounce it properly, the same combination of the word, and the object to which it belongs, must be frequently presented to him. Education, therefore, which alone can expand the powers of the mind, will be unremittingly continued for a length of time; if it should cease, not at the end of two months, as in animals, but even when twelve months old, the mind of the child, which could have received no impression, would remain inactive, like that of an idiot, the defect of whose organs prevents the reception of knowledge. This reasoning would apply with double force if we suppose the child born in a pure state of nature, if it had only a Hottentot mother for its tutoress, and that at the age of two months it was able to separate from her, and live without her care and assistance:—would not this child be worse than an idiot, and entirely on a par with the brutes? But in this state of nature, the first education, that is, the education of necessity, exacts as much time as in the civilized state, because in both the child is equally weak, and equally slow in its growth, and consequently it has need of the care of its parents for an equal portion of time. In short, it would infallibly perish if abandoned before the age of three years. Now this necessary habitude, so long continued between the mother and the child, is sufficient to communicate to it all that she possesses; and though we should falsely suppose, that this mother, in a state of nature, possesses not any one gift, not even that of speech, would not this long habitude with her child produce a language? Thus this state of pure nature, wherein we suppose man to be without thought and speech, is imaginary, and never had existence. This needful and long intercourse of parents with their children produces society in the midst of a desart. The family understand each other by signs and sounds; and this first ray of intelligence, when cherished, cultivated, and communicated, unfolds, in the process of time, all the buds of thought; and as this habitual intercourse could not sustain itself so long without producing mutual signs and sounds, always repeated and gradually engraven on the memory of the child, would consequently become constant and intelligible expressions; though the list of words is short, it still forms a language, which will soon become more extended as the family increases, and will always follow the steps of society in improvement. Society being formed, the education of the child is no longer individual, for then the parents communicate to it not only what they possess from Nature, but also what they have received from their ancestors, and from the society of which they form a part. It is no longer a communication between detached individuals, confined like animals to the transmission of simple faculties, but an institution of which the whole species partakes, and whose produce constitutes the bond and basis of society.

Even among brute animals, though deprived of the thinking principle, those whose education is the longest are also those which seem to have the greatest share of intelligence: the elephant, who takes the longest time in completing its growth, and which requires the assistance of its mother for the whole of the first year, is also the most intelligent animal. The Guinea-pig, which requires only three weeks to accomplish its growth, and be in a generating state, is perhaps, for this reason alone, one of the most stupid animals in Nature. With respect to the ape, with a view to ascertain whose nature we have gone into this investigation, whatever resemblance he may bear to man, yet his affinity to the brutes is evident from the moment of his birth; he is then proportionably stronger, and more completely formed than the infant, and the time of his growth bears no comparison; the assistance of his mother is only necessary during a few months; his education is purely individual, and consequently as sterile as that of other animals.

The ape, therefore, notwithstanding his resemblance to the human form, is a brute, and so far from being second in our species, he is not even the first in the order of animals, because he is not the most intelligent among them; therefore it is only on account of the corporeal resemblance that prejudice has been formed in favour of the great faculties of the ape. He resembles man it is said both externally and internally, and therefore he must not only imitate us, but also of his own accord, act in the same manner as we do. We have seen that every action which we call human is relative to society: that they depend, at first on the mind, and afterwards on education, the physical principle of which is the necessity there is for the long intercourse between parents and children: that this intercourse is very short with the ape; that, like other animals, he only receives an education purely individual, and is not susceptible of any other; consequently he cannot act like man, since no action of the ape has the same principle, nor the same end. With respect to imitation, which appears to be the strongest and most striking character in the ape kind, and which the vulgar refer to him as a peculiar talent, before we decide, we must examine whether this imitation be spontaneous or forced. Does the ape imitate the human species from inclination, or from possessing an innate capacity of performing those actions without choice or exertion? I willingly appeal to all those who have observed this animal without prejudice, and I am convinced they will agree with me, that there is nothing voluntary in their imitation. The monkey having arms and hands, makes use of them as we do, but without any idea of copying our example. The similitude of his limbs and organs necessarily produces motions resembling ours; being formed like man he must be enabled to move like him; but this similarity of motion by no means proves that he acts from imitation. Let us, for instance, construct two pendulums of the same form, and give them an equal motion, would it not be absurd to say that these machines imitate each other? It is the same with respect to the ape, relatively to the body of man; they are two machines, similarly constructed, and by the impulse of Nature move nearly in the same manner: however, parity must not be considered as imitation; the one depends on matter, and the other exists only in reason. Imitation supposes a design of copying; the ape is incapable of forming this design, which requires a train of thought and judgment; for this reason, man, if he choose, can imitate the ape, but the ape cannot have an idea of imitating man.

This parity is no more than the physical part of imitation, and not so complete as the similitude, from which, however, it proceeds as an immediate effect. The ape resembles man more in his body and limbs than in the use he makes of them. By observing the ape attentively we shall perceive that all his motions are sudden, intermittent, and precipitate; and to compare them with those of man we must suppose a different model. Every action of the ape strongly partakes of his education, which is purely animal; and they appear to be extravagant, ridiculous, and inconsequential, because we judge of them by our own, which is a false comparison. As his nature is vivacious, his temperament warm, his disposition petulant, and none of his affections have been polished by education, all his habitudes are excessive, and more resemble the actions of a lunatic than those of a man, or even those of a peaceable animal: from the same reason we find him indocile, and receiving with difficulty the impressions we wish him to imbibe. He is insensible to kindness, and only to be rendered obedient through fear of chastisement. He may be kept in captivity, but not in a domestic state. Always sullen, stubborn, or making grimaces, he may rather be said to be subdued than tamed; therefore none of this species has ever been domesticated in any part of the world, and consequently is more distant from man than most other animals, for docility supposes some analogy betwixt the giver and the receiver of instruction; a relative quality, which cannot be exercised but when there is a certain number of common faculties in both, which only differ from each other because they are active in the master and passive in the scholar. Now the passive qualities of the ape have less relation to the active qualities of man than those of the dog or elephant, who only require good treatment to receive the kind and even delicate sentiments of a faithful attachment, voluntary obedience, grateful service, and an unreserved and ready attention to the commands of their master.