acea."

"Yes, but the interval between such creatures and man is still great."

"True; to connect the two would be a process replete with
insurmountable difficulties, and only possible to creative power. The
projecting snout would have to be flattened, and the features of
humanity imprinted upon it--that head bent upon the ground would have
to be directed upwards--that narrow breast would have to be flattened
out--those legs would have to be converted into flexible arms, and
those horny hoofs into nimble fingers."

"To accomplish which," remarked Frank, "God had only to say, 'Let it
be so.'"

"Assuredly; and as there is nothing incongruous in Nature, as
everything is admirably adapted for its purpose, as unity of design is
perceptible in all things, as every effect proceeds from a cause, and
becomes a cause in its turn of succeeding effects, so God has willed
that there should be a chain of resemblance running through all his
works, and the link that connects man with the animal kingdom--the
highest type of the mammiferous race, and the nearest approach to
humanity amongst the brutes--is the creature before you."

As if to illustrate this position, and prove his title to the place
awarded him, the chimpanzee quietly laid hold of Mr. Wolston's straw
hat and stuck it on his crispy head.

"He is, perhaps, afraid of catching cold," said Jack, thrusting a mat
under his feet.

"Compare birds with quadrupeds," continued Mr. Wolston, "and you will
find analogies at every step. Does the powerful and kingly eagle not
resemble the noble and generous lion?--the cruel vulture, the
ferocious tiger?--the kite, buzzard, and crow preying upon carrion,
hyenas, jackals, and wolves? Are not falcons, hawks, and other birds
used in the chase, types of foxes and dogs? Is the owl, which prowls
about only at night, not a type of the cat? The cormorants and herons,
that live upon fish, are they not the otters and beavers of the air?
Do not peacocks, turkeys, and the common barn-door fowl bear a
striking affinity to oxen, cows, sheep, and other ruminating animals?"

During these remarks, Jack's monkey, Knips, had found its way into the
gallery, and, observing the newcomer, went forward to accost him as if
an old friend; the latter, however, uttered a menacing cry, and was
about to seize Knips with evidently no amiable design, but was
prevented by the cords that bound his legs. Knips leaped upon the back
of one of the boys, and there, as