THE CHIMPANZEE IN CAPTIVITY. 29 



gesture of despair, and flung itself headlong down. The Lieutenant, 

 fearing to lose it, gave way, and the creature gave lively testimony to its 

 delight at its victory. 



Buffon gives some interesting details regarding a young Chimpanzee 

 which was brought to Paris in 1740. This animal offered its hand to 

 lead people about who came to visit it ; it promenaded with them in the 

 gravest manner as it keeping them company ; it sat at table, spread out 

 its napkin, wiped its lips with it, and used its spoon and fork to carry 

 food to its mouth ; it poured out its drink into a glass by itself, hob- 

 nobbed when invited to do so ; it would take a cup and saucer, put them 

 on the table, put sugar in the cup, and pour tea over it, leave it to cool 

 before drinking it, and all this without any other instigation than the 

 signs or words of its master, and often even without this. 



The Chimpanzee, writes Brehm, displays in all its actions so much 

 that is human that we almost cease to regard it as a beast. Its intellect 

 seems nearly on a par with that of the uneducated savage. It imitates 

 whatever it sees just as a child does ; it fails because its hand has not the 

 capacity of the human hand, but its attempts are made consciously and 

 with reflection. It knows its position, and cordially regards itself as 

 higher than the other animals. It distinguishes between grown people 

 and children, respecting the former, loving the latter, provided always 

 they do not tease it. It expresses its feelings like men. It cannot laugh 

 indeed, but it wrinkles up its face and assumes an unmistakable expres- 

 sion of pleasure. It proclaims its sorrows not only by gestures but by 

 cries and wailing sounds that are intelligible to every one. 



Of the many specimens which have been brought from their native 

 homes, most have perished by disease of the lungs. Dr. Martini describes 

 his visit to a sick Chimpanzee. " Covered up in its bed, it lay quite 

 still with a deep expression of suffering on its countenance, shaken by 

 paroxysms of coughing and at times turning its eyes upwards with sighs 

 of pain. It was shy at first, but I soon gained its confidence. It was 

 suffering from inflammation of the left lung accompanied with change 

 of tissue in both lungs and a swelling of the lymphatic glands on both 

 sides of the neck ; a deep abscess pressed together the windpipe and the 

 throat. I resolved to open the abscess. The state of the lungs forbade 

 the use of chloroform ; chloral hydrate produced a drowsiness, but not 

 anaesthesia. He resisted all attempts at force by men. To my surprise, 

 when my assistants retired he voluntarily submitted to an examination 



