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.

The ape is, therefore, further removed from the human species in relative qualities, than most other animals: He likewise differs greatly by temperament. The human species can dwell in every climate; he lives and multiplies in the northern as well as in the southern regions; but the ape lives with difficulty in temperate countries, and can only multiply in the hottest parts of the earth. This difference of temperament supposes others in organization, which though concealed, are no less real; it must also have a great influence on his natural dispositions. The excess of heat so necessary to this animal renders all his affections, and all his qualities, excessive; and we need not seek for any other cause to account for his petulance, his lubricity, and his other passions, which seem to be as violent as they are extravagant.

Thus the ape, which philosophers, as well as the generality of people, have regarded as a being difficult to define, and the nature of which was at least equivocal, and intermediate between that of man and the brute, is, in fact, no other than a real brute, wearing externally a human mask, but internally destitute of thought, and every other attribute which constitutes the human species: an animal inferior to many others in his relative faculties, and most essentially different from the human race in his nature, temperament, and also in the time necessary to his education, gestation, growth, and duration of life; that is, in every real habitude which constitutes what we call Nature in a particular being.

Engraved for Barr’s Buffon.