1 86 THE MONKE Y FA MIL Y. 



in the torrid zone, seem to invite the entire monkey family to come 

 and be happy in them. They say to these amusing animals, as it 

 were, " Ours is really the only place on earth to suit you. Our noble 

 trees will eternally supply you with food j so that, you will never find 

 yourselves under the necessity of going in search of it, apart from 

 these joyous abodes." 



In examining the four limbs of a monkey, everybody must see at 

 once that they have not been formed by nature to do much work 

 upon the ground. I don't venture to say that monkeys never come 

 upon the ground. Occasionally they may leave their usual haunts 

 for a short time, just as we ourselves exchange land for water, when 

 we wish to have a dip in the ocean. So may a monkey pop into a 

 rice field, but he would not stay there, even although his safety 

 were not in jeopardy. Were he to try his speed on the ground, the 

 very thumb itself would be an impediment in a course forward, 

 whilst the long fingers would soon fail to assist him effectually as he 

 advanced in his career. Do but inspect, for a moment or so, the 

 inside of a monkey's hand. You will find it as soft and delicate as 

 that of a lady, as I have previously observed, who always wears 

 gloves. It would not be so were the monkey accustomed to run on 

 the ground. Now the branches of the trees being resilient, they 

 give way, to a certain degree, when pressed upon and this probably 

 is the cause why all monkeys' hands are soft and tender. On the 

 contrary, were those hands continually in the same position, as the 

 feet of dogs, they would inevitably assume a texture hard and rough. 

 Take a young milliner of blooming nineteen, and feel the softness of 

 her hands, which have never done any hard work for she has not 

 been in the habit of rubbing the dirty steps at the door with a 

 sandstone, nor of scouring fish-kettles on her knees in the back- 

 kitchen, as the poor scullion did in " Tristram Shandy." No such 

 thing ; she has passed her time in exercise more mollient. But 

 examine the hands of a weather-beaten mason. You will find them 

 as hard as the Marpesian rock. He has been working all his life 

 with the pick and the crow-bar. Pressure then, according to its 

 intensity, will never fail to render both our feet and our hands 

 extremely hard and rigid ; whilst, on the contrary, absence of pres- 

 sure will allow them to retain their pristine delicacy of texture. If 



