Without adopting the credulities of antiquity, and the puerile fictions of superstition, the elephant is an animal still worth the attention of a philosopher, who ought to consider him as a being of the first distinction. He deserves to be known, and to be observed; we shall therefore write his history with impartiality; we shall consider him at first in his state of nature when he is free and independent, and afterwards in his servile condition, when the will of his master becomes the cause of his actions. In a wild state, the elephant is neither sanguinary nor ferocious; he is of a mild temper, and never makes a bad use of his arms, or his strength; for he never employs or exerts them but in his own defence, or in protecting others of his species. His manners are social, for he is seldom wandering alone: they commonly walk in troops, the oldest leading, and the next in age bringing up the rear; the young and the weak keeping in the middle. The females carry their young, and hold them close with their trunks. They only observe this order in perilous marches when they go to feed on cultivated lands; they travel with less precaution in forests and solitary places, but without separating to such a distance as not to be able to give to each other mutual assistance, and warnings of danger. Some, however, straggle, and remain behind, and it is none but these the hunters dare attack, for a small army would be requisite to assail the whole herd, and they could not conquer without a great loss of men. It is even dangerous to do them the least injury, for they go straight to the offender, and notwithstanding the great heaviness of their bodies they walk so fast that they easily overtake the most agile man; they pierce him through with their tusks, or seize him with their trunks; throw him like a stone, and then kill him by treading him under their feet. But it is only when they have been provoked that they become so furious and so implacable; they do no harm to those who do not disturb them; yet, as they are very suspicious, and sensible of injuries, it is proper to avoid them; and the travellers who frequent the countries where they are numerous, light great fires in the night, and beat drums, to prevent their approach. It is said that when they have been once attacked by men, or have fallen into a snare, they never forget it, but seek for revenge on all occasions. As they have a most exquisite sense of smelling, perhaps more perfect than that of any other animal, they smell a man at a great distance, and can easily follow him by the scent. The ancients have asserted that the elephant tears up the grass where the hunters have passed, and with their trunks convey it to each other, in order to give information of the passage and march of the enemy. These animals are fond of the banks of rivers, deep valleys, shady places, and marshy grounds. They cannot go long without water, which they make thick and muddy before they drink it. They often fill