THE MONKE Y FAMIL Y. 1 43 



find your daily food, I don't see why these gentlemen should not 

 elevate me to the tops of trees in quest of mine." 



11 Now, good Mr Howler, pray look at my hind feet, and examine 

 them well. They are just like those of a dog, totally unfit for 

 climbing, whilst the fore ones are most unlikely for that purpose. 

 The curvature of the three long claws, added to the inward bending 

 of the foot itself, ought to convince anybody, one would think, that 

 we ant-bears draw no nutriment from ants' nests in the high trees of 

 the forest. 'Tis quite true that huge ants' nests are seen amongst 

 the trees ; but it does not follow from this that we are to place our 

 lives in jeopardy by attempting to draw our food from them. The 

 ground itself swarms with millions upon millions of insects, fat and 

 healthy, through the whole extent of our wooded empire. Upon 

 these ants I exist. Neither am I in fear of an enemy. My skin is 

 tough enough to resist the teeth of a hungry tiger, whilst my claws 

 are the dread of every rushing foe." " Then," remarked the howler 

 monkey, " our respective customs are opposite in the extreme. 

 You draw your nutriment from the ground, whilst I procure mine 

 from the trees. You would perish in the trees, and I should die on 

 the ground for want of food. Were I to abandon the trees, and be 

 attacked on the ground, my death would be certain ; for I can 

 neither save myself by flight nor by fight. In the trees alone I am 

 safe ; whilst you, Mr Ant-bear, would be awkwardness itself in a tree, 

 and would soon wish yourself down again." 



Here the conversation ended ; and from it we may infer, that the 

 information acquired by the " eccentric writer " in the heart of the 

 forest, is more to be depended upon than that of the scientific com- 

 piler, who draws up the history of monkeys in his own ornamental 

 study. I can well imagine that an attempt, on my part, to place in 

 a new light the hitherto accepted habits of the monkey family, 

 carries with it an appearance of presumption bordering, perhaps, on 

 self-sufficiency. How is it likely, sages will remark, that we can 

 possibly be in ignorance of the true economy of an animal, known 

 and described before the days of our redemption ? Are then the 

 knowledge of Linnseus, the industry of Buffon, the researches of 

 Dampier, and the opinions of gone-by writers, to be thrown into the 

 back-ground by one of little notice in the walks of science ? To 



