In the thickets of this nutmeg grove beside us there is a Babiroussa; let us examine him. Here he is, almost submerged in this tepid pool. Gentle swine with the circular tusk, please to open your pretty mouth! Here are four incisors in the upper jaw; at one time there were six. The canines of the same jaw having pierced through the flesh and skin of the face, have grown upward and curved backward like horns; nay, they have nearly completed a circle, and are threatening to re-enter the skull; once these tusks had not broken from the gums. There are two pre-molars: once there were four. There are three molars, of which the first is worn quite smooth: once this surface was crowned with four cones; but the third molar had not then appeared.

Away to a broader river. Here wallows and riots the huge Hippopotamus. What can we make of his dentition? A strange array of teeth, indeed, is here; as uncouth and hideous a set as you may hope to see. Yes, but the group is instructive. We will take them in detail.

Look at the lower jaw first. Here are two large projecting incisors in the middle, with their tips worn away obliquely on the outer side, by the action of their opponents in the upper jaw, which are also worn inwardly. The outer incisors, both above and below, are also mutually worn in like manner. The lower canines form massive tusks, curved in the arc of a circle, ground away obliquely by the upper pair; which are short and similarly worn on their front edges. There are three pre-molars on each side, below and above, much worn: once there was a fourth, but it was shed early. Lastly, we find three molars, whose crowns are ground down so as to expose two polished areas of a four-lobed figure. A little while ago, these double areas were trilobate, but at first there were no smooth areas at all; for these are but sections, more or less advanced, of the conical knobs, with which the crown of the molar was originally armed.[84]

In both these examples, the polished surfaces of the teeth, worn away by mutual action, afford striking evidence of the lapse of time. Some one may possibly object, however, to this: "What right have you to assume that these teeth were worn away at the moment of its creation, admitting the animal to have been created adult? May they not have been entire?" I reply, Impossible: the Hippopotamus's teeth would have been perfectly useless to him, except in the ground-down condition: nay, the unworn canines would have effectually prevented his jaws from closing, necessitating the keeping of the mouth wide open until the attrition was performed; long before which, of course, he would have starved. In a natural condition the mutual wearing begins as soon as the surface of the teeth come into contact with each other; that is, as soon as they have acquired a development which constitutes them fit for use. The degree of attrition is merely a question of time. There is no period that can be named, supposing the existence of the perfected teeth at all, in which the evidence of this action would not be visible. How distinct an evidence of past action, and yet, in the case of the created individual, how illusory!

SKULL OF HIPPOPOTAMUS.

"Trampling his path through wood and brake,
And canes, which, crackling, fall before his way,
And tassel-grass, whose silvery feathers play
O'ertopping the young trees,—
On comes the Elephant, to slake
His thirst at noon, in yon pellucid springs.
Lo! from his trunk upturn'd, aloft he flings
The grateful shower: and now
Plucking the broad-leaf'd bough
Of yonder plane, with waving motion slow,
Fanning the languid air,
He waves it to and fro."

We will not be content with admiring the vast size of the fine Dauntelah, and the majesty of his air and movement, and the intelligence manifested in all the actions of the "half-reasoning" beast, as he explores the amœnities of the young world to which he has but this morning been introduced. We are out on another sort of scent: let us try if we can glean any light from him on our present question.

And, first, we cannot fail to notice his fine pair of tusks curving upwards almost to a semicircle. Each tusk is composed of a vast number of thin cones of ivory, superimposed one on another; ever increasing by new ones formed within the interior at the base, and moulded upon the vascular pulp which fills the cavity, and by which the solid ivory is constantly secreted and deposited. Each new cone pushes further and further out those previously deposited, and thus the tusk ever grows in length as it increases in age.