“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 if on the tower of an impregnable fortress, commenced making a series of grimaces at the chimpanzee, these being the only missiles within reach that he could launch at his relation.  The enemy retorted, and kept up a smart fire of like ammunition.

“It appears,” remarked Mrs Wolston, “that apes are something like men:  the great and the little do not readily amalgamate.”

“We must make them amalgamate,” said Jack, taking one of Knips’s paws, whilst Ernest held that of the chimpanzee; thus they compelled them to shake hands, but with what degree of cordiality we are unable to state.

“You ought to oblige them now to take an oath of fealty,” said Mrs. Wolston.

“Chimpanzee,” said Jack, speaking for Knips, “I promise always to treat you in future with smiles, delicacies, and respect.”

“Knips,” replied the wild man of the woods, through the organs of Ernest, “I promise to have for you only the most generous intentions; to share with you the nuts I may have occasion to crack, that is, by giving you the shells and keeping the kernel; I promise, moreover, not to immolate you at the altar of my just rage, unless it is impossible for me to avoid an outburst of temper.”