The common colour of the elephant is of ash grey, or blackish. White ones, as we have observed, are extremely scarce: and some have been seen in the Indies of a reddish colour; these and the white are much esteemed; but these varieties are so scarce, that they cannot be considered as a race distinct from the species, but rather as accidental qualities peculiar to individuals; for otherwise, the countries of the white, red, and black elephants would be known, as well as the climates of white, red, and black men, and those of a copper colour. “Elephants of three different sorts are found in the Indies; (says Father Vincent Marie) the white, which are the largest, most gentle, and of the best temper, are worshipped as gods by several nations; the red, such as those of Ceylon, though the smallest, are the most valiant, the strongest, and best for war, and the other elephants, either from natural inclination, or perceiving in them something superior, shew them a great respect; the third species, is that of the black, which are the most common, and the least esteemed.” This author is the only one who has intimated that Ceylon was the peculiar climate of red elephants; other travellers make no mention of such a fact. He also affirms, that the elephants of Ceylon are smaller than the others. Thevenot says the same thing in his voyage, but others assert the contrary. Father Vincent Marie also, is the only author who has said the white elephants are the largest. Father Tachard assures us on the contrary, that the white elephant of the king of Siam was rather small, though very old. After comparing the relations of travellers, in regard to the size of elephants in different countries, it seems, that the smallest are those of North and West Africa, and that the ancients, who only knew the northern part of Africa, had some reason to say that, in general, the elephants of the Indies were much larger than those of Africa. But in the eastern parts of this quarter of the world, unknown to them, the elephants are at least as large as those of India; for those of Siam and Pegu excel in bulk the elephants of Ceylon; which, however, are the most courageous and intelligent, according to the unanimous opinion of travellers.
Having thus collected the different facts relative to the species, let us now examine minutely the faculties of the individual; his senses, motion, size, strength, address, sagacity, and intelligence. The elephant has very small eyes, compared to the enormous size of his body, but they are bright and lively; and what distinguishes them from the eyes of all other animals, is their pathetic expression of sentiment, and an almost rational direction of all their motions. He turns them slowly and gently towards his master, and when he speaks, the animal has the appearance of listening to him with an eye of friendship and attention, and by an expressive glance seems to penetrate into his wishes, and anticipate his desires. He seems to reflect, to think, and to deliberate, and never acts till he has examined and observed several times, without passion or precipitation, the signs of which he is to obey. Dogs, the eyes of which have much expression, are animals too lively to allow us to distinguish their successive sensations; but as the elephant is naturally grave and sedate, we may read in his eyes, whose motions are slow, the order and succession of his interior affections.
He has a quick hearing, and this organ, like that of smelling, is outwardly more marked in the elephant than in any other animal. His ears are very large, even in proportion to his body; they are flat, and close to the head, like those of a man; they commonly hang down, but he raises and moves them with such facility that he makes use of them to defend his eyes against the inconveniency of dust and flies. He delights in the sound of musical instruments, and moves in exact time to the sound of the trumpet and tabor. He has an exquisite sense of smelling, and he is passionately fond of perfumes of all sorts, and especially of fragrant flowers; he gathers them one by one, makes nosegays of them, which he smells with eagerness, and then carries to his mouth, as if he intended to taste them. Orange flowers are one of his most exquisite dainties; he strips with his trunk an orange tree of all its verdure, eating the fruit, the flowers, the leaves, and even the young branches. He chuses in meadows odoriferous plants, and in the woods he gives the preference to cocoa, palm, and sago trees, and as these trees are pithy and tender he not only cats the leaves and fruits but even the branches, the trunk, and the roots, for when he cannot break the branches with his trunk, he roots up the trees with his tusks.
In regard to the sense of feeling, it centres in his trunk; but it is as delicate and as distinct in that as in the human hand. This trunk, composed of membranes, nerves, and muscles, is, at the same time, a member capable of motion, and an organ of sentiment. The animal can not only move and bend it, but he can shorten, lengthen, and turn it all ways. The extremity of the trunk is terminated by a protuberance, which projects on the upper part like a finger, by which the elephant does the same as we do with our fingers; he picks up from the ground the smallest pieces of money; he gathers herbs and flowers, chusing them one after another; he unties knots, opens and shuts doors, by turning the keys or slipping the bolts: he learns to draw regular characters with an instrument as small as a pen. We cannot even deny that this hand of the elephant has several advantages over ours: it is equally flexible and as dexterous in feeling or laying hold of objects. These operations are made by means of that sort of finger, seated at the superior part of the border, which surrounds the extremity of the trunk, in the middle of which there is a concavity, in the form of a cup, and at the bottom of it are the two apertures, which convey the sense of smelling and respiration. The elephant, consequently, unites in his trunk both the senses of feeling and smelling; and he may join the power of his lungs to the action of his hand, either drawing liquids by suction, or lifting up very heavy burdens, by applying the extremity of his trunk, and making within an empty place by respiration.
Thus the delicacy of feeling, exquisiteness of smelling, facility of motion, and the power of suction, are united in the trunk of the elephant. Of all the instruments which Nature has so liberally bestowed on her favourite productions, the trunk of the elephant is, perhaps, the most complete and the most admirable; it is not only an organic instrument, but a triple sense, whose united functions are, at the same time, the cause, and produce the effect of that intelligence, and of those peculiar faculties which distinguish the elephant, and raise him above all other quadrupeds. He is less subject than other animals to errors of sight, because he rectifies them quickly by the sense of feeling; and making use of his trunk as a long arm to feel distant bodies, he acquires, like men, distinct ideas of distance. But other animals (except the monkey, and some others, who have the fore feet similar to arms and hands) cannot acquire the same ideas without running over that space with their bodies. Feeling is, of all the senses, that which has the most relation to knowledge. The delicacy of feeling gives the idea of the substance of the bodies; the flexibility of the trunk gives the idea of their exterior form; the power of suction, that of their weight; smelling, that of their qualities; and its length, that of their distance. They, therefore, with the same member, and by one simultaneous act, feel, perceive, and judge of divers things at once. His multiplied sensations are equivalent to reflection; and though this animal is, like others, incapable of thinking, as his sensations are combined in the same organ, are coeval and undivided, it is not surprising that he has ideas of his own, and that he acquires in a little time those we inculcate to him. His remembrance should be more perfect than that of any other animal, for memory only depends chiefly on the circumstances of action; and no sensation, however lively, can leave a lasting impression, when single and abstractedly taken; but several combined sensations leave deep impressions, so that if the elephant cannot recall an idea by feeling alone, the sensations of smelling and suction, which act at the same time, help him in recalling them to remembrance. With us the best method to improve the memory is to make use successively of all our senses to consider an object; and it is for want of that combined use of the senses that man forgets more things than he can recollect.
Although the elephant has a more retentive memory, and more intelligence than any other animal, his brain is proportionally smaller than most of them, which I only mention as a proof that the brain is not the seat of sentiment, the sensorium commune, which resides, on the contrary, in the nerves of the senses, and in the membranes of the head, which are so numerously distributed on the trunk of the elephant, as to be equal to all those on the rest of the body. It is, therefore, by virtue of this singular combination of faculties in the trunk, that this animal is superior to all others in intelligence, notwithstanding his enormous size, and the disproportion of his form; for the elephant is, at the same time, a miracle of intelligence, and a monster of matter. His body is very thick, without any suppleness; his neck short and stiff, his head small and deformed, his ears and nose exceedingly large; his eyes, mouth, genital members, and tail, very small in proportion; his legs are like massive pillars, straight and stiff; his feet so short and small, that they are hardly perceptible, and his skin hard, thick, and callous; all these deformities are more remarkable, from being exhibited on a large scale, and most of them being peculiar to himself alone, no other animal having either the head, feet, nose, ears, or tusks, placed like those of the elephant.
From this singular conformation he suffers several inconveniences; he can scarcely move his head, or turn back without making a circuit. The hunters who attack him behind, or on the flanks, avoid the effects of his vengeance by circular motions, and they have sufficient time to strike him again whilst he is turning against them. His legs, which are not so stiff as his neck and body, yet bend very slowly, and with difficulty; their articulation with the thighs is very strong. His knee is situated like that of a man, and his feet as low; but his foot has no strength nor elastic power, and the knee is hard, without suppleness; yet whilst the elephant is in his youth and vigour, he bends it to lay down, to let himself be loaded, or to help his leaders to mount him; but when he is old or infirm, this motion becomes so difficult that he sleeps standing; and, if he is compelled to lay down, the use of engines are necessary to raise him. His tusks, which become of an enormous weight when he grows old, not being seated in a vertical position, as the horns of other animals, form two long levers, and being in an almost horizontal direction, fatigue his head prodigiously, and draw it downwards, so that the animal is sometimes obliged to make holes in the wall of his lodge to support them, and ease himself of their weight. He has the disadvantage of having the organ of smelling far distant from that of tasting; and likewise the inconvenience of not being able to seize any thing on the ground with his mouth, because his neck is too short to let his head reach the earth; he is forced, therefore, to take his food, and even his drink with his nose; and to carry it not only to the entrance of his mouth, but to his very throat; and when his trunk is full of water, he thrusts the extremity of it to the very root of the tongue, probably to push back the epiglottis, and to prevent the liquor which passes through with impetuosity, from entering into the larynx; for he thrusts out the water by the strength of the same air which he had employed to suck it up, and it goes out of the trunk with noise, and enters into the throat with precipitation. Neither the tongue, the mouth, nor the lips, are of any service to him, as to other animals, in sucking or lapping their drink. From this description seems to result the singular consequence, that the young elephant must suck with his nose, and afterwards carry the milk to his throat. Yet the ancients have written that he sucks with the mouth, and not with the trunk; but they were not, probably, witnesses of the fact, and have founded their opinion on the analogy with all other animals. If the young elephant had once been used to suck with his mouth, how could he lose that habit the remainder of his life? Why does he never use the mouth to take water within his reach? Why does he constantly employ two actions, where one would be sufficient? Why does he never take any thing with his mouth, but what is thrown in when it is open? It appears probable, therefore, that the young elephant sucks with his trunk only. This presumption is not only proved by the subsequent facts, but is also founded on a better analogy than that which decided the opinion of the ancients. We have said, that animals in general, at the instant they are brought forth, can have no indication of the food they want, from any other sense but that of smelling: the ear is certainly of no use in that respect; neither is the eye, since the eyes of most animals are not open when they begin to suck: feeling can give but a vague idea of all the parts of the mother’s body, or rather indicates nothing relative to the appetite. Smelling alone directs him: it is not only a sort of taste, but a species of fore-taste, which precedes, accompanies, and determines the other. The elephant, like other animals, perceives by this fore-taste the presence of his food; and as the seat of smelling is united with the power of suction at the extremity of his trunk, he applies it to the teats, sucks the milk, and conveys it afterwards to his mouth to satisfy his appetite. Besides, the two paps being seated on the breast, like those of women, and the teats being very small in proportion to the size of the mouth of the young elephant, who cannot bend his neck, he could not reach the teat of his mother with his mouth, unless she laid upon her back, or on her side, and even in that situation he would find it very difficult to suck her, on account of the largeness of the mouth, and the smallness of the nipples. The margin of the trunk, which the elephant contracts as much as he pleases, is easily proportioned to the nipple, and the young elephant may suck his mother with it, either when she stands, or lies on her side. Thus, every thing agrees to confute the opinion of the ancients on this subject, for none of them, nor even any of the moderns, pretend to have seen the elephant sucking, and I think, I may affirm, that whenever that observation is made, it will appear, that he does not suck with his mouth, but with his trunk. I likewise believe, that the ancients have been mistaken in telling us, that elephants couple like other quadrupeds, the position of the parts seeming to make it almost impossible. The female has not, like other quadrupeds, the orifice of the vagina near the anus, being near three feet distance from it, and seated almost in the middle of the belly. Besides, naturalists and travellers agree that the male elephant has not the genital member longer than a horse, and therefore it is impossible for them to copulate like other quadrupeds, and that the female must necessarily lie on her back, and which De Feynes and Tavernier positively affirm must be the fact, though I should not pay much attention to their testimony were it not in conformity with the physical conformation; they require, therefore, for this operation, more time and conveniences, than other animals; and it is, perhaps, for this reason they never couple, but when at full liberty. The female must not only consent, but even place herself in an indecent situation, to provoke the male, which probably, she never assumes but when she thinks herself without witnesses. Is not modesty then a physical virtue of which animals are susceptible? It is at least like softness, moderation, temperance, a general attribute of the female sex.
Thus the elephant neither sucks, eats, or drinks, like other quadrupeds. The sound of his voice is also very singular. If we believe the ancients, he has, as it were, two voices: the one issuing from the trunk, which is rough, and from the length of the passage is somewhat like that of a trumpet; and the other coming from his mouth, which is interrupted by short pauses and hard sighs. This fact, advanced by Aristotle and afterwards repeated by naturalists and some travellers, is at least doubtful. M. de Bussy affirms positively, that the elephant does not utter any sounds through the trunk; yet as in shutting the mouth close, man can make a sound through the nose, it is possible that the elephant, with so long a nose may issue sounds in the same manner. From wherever it proceeds, the cry of the elephant is heard at more than a league’s distance; and yet, it is not so terrifying as the roaring of the lion or the tiger.
The elephant is yet more singular in the conformation of his feet, and the texture of his skin. He is not clothed with hair like other quadrupeds, but his skin is perfectly bare; some bristles issue out in different parts, they are thinly scattered on the body, but more thick on the eye-lids, on the back part of the head, within the ears, the thighs, and the legs. The epidermis has two sorts of wrinkles, which are hard and callous, some sinking, others prominent, which gives a divided appearance, like the bark of an old oak. In man, and in other animals, the epidermis sticks every where close to the skin, but in the elephant, it is only fastened by some points, like two quilted stuffs one above the other. This epidermis is naturally dry, and soon acquires three or four lines of thickness, by the divers crusts, which are regenerated one above the other, drying up. It is this thickness of the epidermis which produces the elephantiasis, or dry leprosy, to which man, whose skin is bare like that of the elephant, is sometimes subject. This distemper is very common to elephants, and to prevent it the Indians rub them often with oil, to preserve the skin clean and supple. It is very tender wherever it is not callous; in the fissures, and other places, where it is neither dry nor hard, the elephant is so sensible of the sting of the flies, that he not only employs his natural motions, but even the resources of his intelligence to get rid of them. He makes use of his tail, ears, and trunk, to strike them; he contracts his skin and squeezes them to death betwixt his wrinkles; he takes branches of trees, boughs, and handfuls of straw, to drive them away, and when all this does not answer the purpose, he gathers dust with his trunk, and covers with it all the tender parts of his body. He often covers himself with dust several times in a day, particularly after bathing. The use of water is almost as necessary to these animals as air. When at liberty they seldom leave the banks of rivers, but often go into them, and remain for hours together up to the belly. In India, where they are treated most suitable to their nature and constitution, they wash them with care, and give them all the necessary time and opportunity to wash themselves. They clean their skins by rubbing it with pumice-stones, and afterwards they pour on them perfumed oil, and paint them with various colours.
The conformation of the elephant’s feet and legs is also different from that of other animals; the fore legs seem to be higher than those behind, yet the hind legs are the longest; they are not bent in two places, like the hind legs of a horse, or an ox, the thigh-bones of which seem to be of the same piece with the buttock, the knee very near the belly, and the bones of the foot so high and so long that they seem to make a great part of the leg; in the elephant, on the contrary, the foot is very short, and rests on the ground; he has the knee like man, in the middle of the leg; his short foot is divided into five toes, which are all covered with a skin, so as not to appear outwardly; we are only able to perceive a kind of nails, the number of which varies, though that of the toes is constant, for he has always five toes to each foot, and commonly five nails, but sometimes he has no more than four, or even three, and in this case they do not correspond exactly with the extremities of the toes. However, this variety, which has only been observed in young elephants transported to Europe, seems to be merely accidental, and depends, probably on the treatment the elephant has received in his youth. The sole of the feet is covered with a skin, as hard as the hoof, which projects all round; the nails are formed of the same substance.