2 NATURAL HISTORY. 



is an impassable barrier, over which man can never fall, or 

 beasts hope to climb. Man, when fallen from his high estate, 

 and deprived of the use of his reason, still holds the supremacy 

 over the lower animals, and is not subject even to the most 

 perfect and powerful brutes. There is but one genus of man- 

 kind, HOMO, and but one species, Sapiens ; that is, the rational 

 human being. Intellect, or reason, differs from instinct in 

 its power of accommodation to circumstances ; whereas in- 

 stinct ever remains unchanged. The beaver, when confined 

 in a cage, still builds dams in order to confine the stream that 



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never visits it ; the captive squirrel, when satiated with food, 

 still conceals the remnants for a future repast, although it is 

 regularly supplied with its daily meals ; the magpie approaches 

 a dead wasp with the same caution as if it were living ; and 

 the dog flies from a recently flayed tiger skin with no less fear 

 than if the living tiger stood before him. On the contrary, 

 the power of man's reason enables him to alter his habits and 

 actions according to the change of external circumstances. 

 The same man can inhabit the burning sands of the tropics, 

 or the everlasting snows of the north pole ; and is able to 

 defend himself from the scorching heat of the one, or to set 

 at defiance the piercing cold of the other. 



The forms and habits of men are modified according to 

 the different climates and positions in which they are placed. 

 These modifications are in some cases so great that many 

 philosophers, and not a few naturalists, have imagined that 

 there are several distinct classes of mankind, which derive their 

 origin from different sources. There is certainly no doubt 

 that the educated human being who peruses these pages, 

 seated in a comfortable apartment, surrounded with luxuries 

 brought from almost every country on the face of the earth, 

 within sound of church bells, and clothed in garments fitted 

 to defend him from the heat of summer or the cold of winter, 

 is far superior to the half-naked Bosjesman, who has no con- 

 ception of a God, who lives in caves, or scrapes a hole in the 

 sand, in which he crouches until he has devoured the last 

 putrid morsel of the prey which he has been fortunate enough 

 to secure, and which he then abandons to the beasts of the 

 desert, scarcely less provident than himself. Yet this supe- 

 riority results entirely from the external circumstances in 



