“Was his classification accepted by the other naturalists?” one of the youths asked.
“By some, but by no means by all,” was the reply.
“There was aloud protest against it, not by the monkeys, who didn't trouble their heads on the subject, but learned men and others who felt that the dignity of the human race had been affronted. As time went on the opinions of Linnæus fell more and more into disfavor, and the present classification places man in a distinct genus, that of Bimana (two-handed) while the whole tribe of monkeys, apes and the like, are classed as Quadrumana (four-handed.)
“It must be admitted,” continued Mr. Graham, “that from a purely anatomical point of view, the monkey has a close resemblance to man. He can stand upright, has a nude face, his eyes are directed forward, his internal organs are very much the same, and he is subject to many diseases of which man is the victim. But although he can walk upright he does so with difficulty; his forelegs or arms are much longer than the human arm, in proportion to the rest of the body, and although he has the same organs in his throat he has not the power of speech. Though his hand is shaped like the human one in a general way, it is far from being as perfect; the fingers do not act separately like those of man and the thumb is short and unwieldy and does not oppose each of the fingers, or only very imperfectly so.”
“I have read somewhere,” said Harry, “that the highest intellect shown by the monkey is lower than that of the most degraded savage. Monkeys are not afraid of fire, but no monkey ever rose to the intelligence of producing it by rubbing two sticks together as is done by the lowest of savages.”
“You are right,” said Mr. Graham. “The observation you refer to was made by a French philosopher, Joseph de Maistre. There are other points in which we can show a wide gulf between man and the quadrumana, but we will drop them for the present.”
At this moment an exclamation from George turned attention in his direction.
“Here's something for us to see,” said George, as he held up a newspaper on which he had rested his eye for a moment, while listening to the remarks of Mr. Graham.
“What is it?” Harry asked.
“A monkey show,” was the reply, “a theatrical performance by trained monkeys, or rather a pantomime, as the animals cannot be expected to talk as human actors do.”