THE SLOTH. 



443 



the common appellation of the Sloth, and their 

 habitudes well deserve our wonder and 

 curiosity. Nature seems cramped and con- 

 strained in their formation ; other animals 

 are often indolent from choice, these are 

 slow from necessity. The ai, from which I 

 shall take my description, and from which 

 the other differs only in the slight particulars 

 above mentioned, and in being rather more 

 active, is of about the size of a badger. Its 

 fur is coarse and staring, somewhat resem- 

 bling dried grass ; the tail very short, and 

 scarcely appearing; the mouth extended from 

 ear to ear; the eye dull and heavy; the feet 

 armed with three claws each, and made so 

 short, and set on so awkwardly, that a few paces 

 is often the journey of a week; but though 

 the feet are short, they are still longer than 

 its legs, and these proceed from the body in 

 such an oblique direction, that the sole of the 

 foot seldom touches the ground. When the 

 animal, therefore, is compelled to make a 

 step forward, it scrapes on the back of the 

 nails along the surface, and wheeling the limbs 

 circularly about, yet still touching the ground, 

 it at length places its foot in a progressive 

 position; the other three limbs are all brought 

 about with the same difficulty ; and thus it is 

 seen to move, not above three feet in an hour. 

 In fact, this poor creature seldom changes 

 place but by constraint, and when impelled 

 by the severest stings of hunger. 



The sloth seems to be the meanest and 

 most ill-formed of all those animals that chew 

 the cud ; it lives entirely upon vegetable 

 food, on the leaves, the fruit, and the flowers, 

 of trees, and often even on the very bark, 

 when nothing else is left on the tree for its 

 subsistence. Like all other ruminant ani- 

 mals, it has four stomachs ; and these requir- 

 ing a large share of provision to supply them, 

 it generally strips a tree of all its verdure in 

 less than a fortnight. Still, however, it keeps 

 aloft, unwilling to descend, while any thing 

 remains that can serve it for food ; it there- 

 fore falls to devouring the bark, and thus in 

 a snort time kills the tree upon which it found 

 itssupport. Thusdestituteof provisions above, 

 and crawling slowly from branch to branch 

 in hopes of finding something still left, it is at 

 last obliged to encounter all the dangers that 

 attend it below. Though it is formed by na- 



1 wo. 3f & 38. 



[ hire for climbing a tree with great pain and 

 difficulty, yet it is utterly unable to descend ; 

 it therefore is obliged to drop from the branch- 

 es to the ground, and as it is incapable of ex- 

 erting itself to break the violence of its de- 

 scent, it drops like a shapeless heavy mass, 

 and feels no small shock in the fall. There, 

 after remaining some time torpid, it prepares 

 for a journey to some neighbouring tree ; but 

 this of all migrations is the most tedious, 

 dangerous, and painful; it often takes a week 

 in crawling to a tree not fifty yards distant; 

 it moves with imperceptible slowness, and 

 often baits by the way. All motions seem to 

 torture it, every step it takes it sets forth a 

 most plaintive melancholy cry, which, from 

 some distant similitude to the human voice, 

 excites a kind of disgust, mixed with pity. 

 This plaintive'sound seems its chief defence; 

 few quadrupeds appear willing to interrupt 

 its progress, either that the flesh is offensive, 

 or that they are terrified at its cries. When 

 at length they reach their destined tree, they 

 mount it with much greater ease than when 

 they moved upon the plain. They fall 

 to with famished appetite, and, as before, 

 destroy the very source that supplies 

 them. 



How far these may be considered as the 

 unfinished productions of nature, I will not 

 take upon me to determine ; if we measure 

 their happiness by our sensations, nothing, it 

 is certain, can be more miserable; but it is 

 probable, considered with regard to them- 

 selves, they may have some stores of comfort 

 unknown to us, which may set them upon a 

 level with some other inferior ranks of the 

 creation; if a part of their life be exposed to 

 pain and labour, it is compensated by a larger 

 portion of plenty, indolence and safety. In 

 fact, they are formed very differently from all 

 other quadrupeds, and, it is probable, they 

 have different enjoyments. Like birds, they 

 have but one common vent for the purposes 

 of propagation, excrement, and urine. Like 

 the tortoise, which they resemble in the slow- 

 ness of their motion, they continue to live 

 some time after their nobler parts are wound- 

 ed, or even taken away. They bear the 

 marks of all those homely-formed animals, 

 that, like rude machines, are not easily dis- 

 composed. 



3U 



