‘One second, Miss Dupuy—for God’s sake, one second! Is that final? Is that irrevocable?’
‘Final, Dr Whitaker—quite final. I like you; I admire you; but I can never, never—never accept you!’
The mulatto uttered a little low sharp piercing cry. ‘Ah!’ he exclaimed in an accent of terrible despair, ‘then it is all over—all, all over!’ Next instant he had drawn himself together with an effort again, and offering Nora his arm with constrained calmness, he began to lead her back towards the crowded ballroom. As he neared the steps, he paused once more for a second, and almost whispered in her ear in a hollow voice: ‘Thank you, thank you for ever for at least your sympathy!’
MAN-LIKE APES—AND MAN.
Man-like, or in scientific parlance, Anthropoid Apes, are distinguished from others of the monkey tribe on account of their greater size and their greater resemblance to the human species. Within the last quarter of a century, they have, owing to the growing prominence of the doctrine of evolution, been raised to a much higher place than before as subjects of study for the naturalist, the scientist, the philosopher. From being little other than mere curiosities in animal life, they have become important objects of psychological inquiry, and have taken their place as factors not to be overlooked in the elevated regions of speculative thought. This is due almost solely to the change that has passed over our methods of studying animal life. We have ceased to regard the lower creatures as little better than pieces of living mechanism, and have come to view them as vital steps in the great ladder of progression which connects the higher with the lower orders of organic existence. Hence it is not now a matter of wonder that a whole volume of the ‘International Scientific Series’ should be devoted to the study of Man-like Apes. The volume, Anthropoid Apes (London: Kegan Paul & Co.), is from the pen of Professor Hartmann of Berlin, and forms the fifty-third of the above valuable series of works.
On account, says the author, of their external bodily characteristics, of their anatomical structure, and their highly developed intelligence, Anthropoids not only stand first among apes, but they take a still higher place, approximating to the human species. Their fossil remains carry us into a far-back period of prehistoric time; and even within historic times, we have them mentioned as early as 500 B.C. They were then known to the Carthaginians, who call them ‘gorillai,’ and describe them as hairy silvan creatures who replied to the attacks of the seafarers by throwing stones at them.
The gorilla, the chimpanzee, the orang-utan, and the gibbon, are the chief of the animals included under the title Anthropoid Apes. They differ from each other and among themselves in external form according to the age and sex, the difference between the sexes being most strongly marked in the gorilla, and least apparent in the gibbon. ‘When a young male gorilla is compared with an aged animal of the same species, we are almost tempted to believe that we have to do with two entirely different creatures.’ Into the distinguishing physiological peculiarities of the external form of these creatures, we cannot of course enter here, and must refer to the full and elaborate investigations placed on record by Professor Hartmann.
Among the Anthropoids, the gorilla, the ‘prototype of the species,’ deserves our notice first. The aged male gorilla, in the full strength of his bodily development, is a creature of terrible aspect. This animal, when standing upright, is more than six feet in height. The hinder part of the head is broader below than above, and the projecting arches above the eyes give a peculiar prominence to this part of the skull. ‘The dark eyes glow between the lids with a ferocious expression.’ The neck is very powerful, almost like that of a bull, and the shoulders are remarkable for their breadth. The arms are very long, and of enormous strength; but the legs short and feeble in proportion. The gorilla inhabits the forests of West Africa, and is sometimes seen in large numbers on the sea-coast, probably driven thither from the interior by a scarcity of food. The gorilla, moreover, lives in a society consisting of male and female, with their young of varying ages, and the family group inhabits the recesses of the forest. According to one observer, they frequent the same sleeping-place not more than three or four times consecutively, and usually spend the night wherever they happen to be when night comes on. The male gorilla chooses a suitable tree, not very high, and by twisting and bending the branches, constructs a kind of rude bed or nest for his family. He himself spends the night under the tree, and thus protects the female and their young from the nocturnal attacks of leopards, which are always ready to devour all species of apes. In the daytime, the gorillas roam through the forest in search of the favourite leaves or fruits which form their food.
In walking, gorillas place the backs of their closed fingers on the ground, or more rarely support themselves on the flat palm, while the bent soles of the feet are also in contact with the ground. Their gait is tottering; the movement of the body, which is never in an upright position as in man, but bent forward, rolls to some extent from one side to another. They are skilful climbers, and when ranging from tree to tree, will go to their very tops. The gorilla is regarded as a dreadful and very dangerous animal by the negroes who inhabit the same country; though Professor Hartmann considers that Du Chaillu’s descriptions are greatly exaggerated ‘for the benefit of his readers.’ When the animal is scared by man, he generally takes to flight screaming, and he only assumes the defensive if wounded or driven into a corner. At such times his size, strength, and dexterity combine to render him a formidable enemy. ‘He sends forth a kind of howl or furious yelp, stands up on his hind-legs like an enraged bear, advances with clumsy gait in this position and attacks his enemy. At the same time the hair on his head and the nape of his neck stands erect, his teeth are displayed, and his eyes flash with savage fury. He beats his massive breast with his fists, or beats the air with them. Koppenfels says that if no further provocation is given, and his opponent gradually retreats before the animal’s rage has reached its highest point, he does not return to the attack. In other cases he parries the blow directed against him with the skill of a practised fighter; and, as is also done by the bear, he grasps his opponent by the arm and crunches it, or else throws the man down and rends him with his terrible canine teeth.’
Enough of this silvan monster in his wild state. Let us turn to him in captivity; and we can only take one out of several individuals described. The one referred to was caught young, and gradually accustomed to a mixed diet preparatory to his being brought from Africa to Europe. While still with his first possessors, he was allowed to run about as he chose, being only watched as little children are watched. He clung to human companionship; showed no trace of mischievous, malicious, or savage qualities, but was sometimes self-willed. He expressed the ideas which occurred to him by different sounds, one of which was the characteristic tone of importunate petition, while other sounds expressed fright or horror, and in rare instances a sullen and defiant growl might be heard. In moments of exuberant satisfaction, he would raise himself on his hind-legs, rub his breast with both fists, or, after quite a human fashion, clap his hands together—this an action which no one had taught him. His dexterity in eating was particularly remarkable. He took up a cup or glass with instinctive care, clasped the vessel with both hands, and set it down again so softly and carefully that the narrator cannot remember his breaking a single article of household goods. ‘His behaviour at meal-times was quiet and mannerly; he only took as much as he could hold with his thumb, fore, and middle finger, and looked on with indifference when any of the different forms of food heaped up before him were taken away. If, however, nothing was given him, he growled impatiently, looked narrowly at all the dishes from his place at table, and accompanied every plate carried off by the negro boys with an angry snarl, or a short resentful cough, and sometimes he sought to seize the arm of the passer-by, in order to express his displeasure more plainly by a bite or a blow. He drank by suction, stooping over the vessel, without even putting his hands into it or upsetting it, and in the case of smaller vessels, he carried them to his mouth.’ He was clever in manifesting his wishes, and often expressed them in an urgent and caressing manner. Child-like, he took a special pleasure in making a noise by beating on hollow articles, and he seldom omitted an opportunity of drumming on casks, dishes, or tin trays, whenever he passed by them. After being brought to Berlin, however, he did not live long, dying of a ‘galloping consumption.’