of America, they never venture upon the fruit of any tree, how tempting
soever it may appear, unless they observe that it is marked with the
pecking of birds; but fall on without any fear or apprehension where the
birds have been before them.

But notwithstanding animals have nothing like the use of reason, we find
in them all the lower parts of our nature, the passions and senses in
their greatest strength and perfection. And here it is worth our
observation, that all beasts and birds of prey are wonderfully subject
to anger, malice, revenge, and all the other violent passions that may
animate them in search of their proper food; as those that are incapable
of defending themselves, or annoying others, or whose safety lies
chiefly in their flight, are suspicious, fearful, and apprehensive of
every thing they see or hear; whilst others that are of assistance and
use to man, have their natures softened with something mild and
tractable, and by that means are qualified for a domestic life. In this
case the passions generally correspond with the make of the body. We do
not find the fury of the lion in so weak and defenceless an animal as a
lamb, nor the meekness of a lamb in a creature so armed for battle and
assault as the lion. In the same manner, we find that particular animals
have a more or less exquisite sharpness and sagacity in those particular
senses which most turn to their advantage, and in which their safety and
welfare is the most concerned.

Nor must we here omit that great variety of arms with which nature has
differently fortified the bodies of several kind of animals, such as
claws, hoofs, and horns, teeth, and tusks, a tail, a sting, a trunk, or
a _proboscis_. It is likewise observed by naturalists, that it must
be some hidden principle distinct from what we call reason, which
instructs animals in the use of these their arms, and teaches them to