and
humble standard. Terrestrial mammals, however, cannot cross the sea; so
in isolated regions, such as New Zealand and Madagascar, the birds had
things all their own way. In New Zealand, there are no indigenous
quadrupeds at all; and there the huge moa attained to dimensions almost
equalling those of the giraffe. In Madagascar, the mammalian life was
small and of low grade, so the gigantic aepyornis became the very biggest
of all known birds. At the same time, these big species acquired their
immense size at the cost of the distinctive birdlike habit of flight. A
flying moa is almost an impossible conception; even the ostriches
compete practically with the zebras and antelopes rather than with the
eagles, the condors, or the albatrosses. In like manner, when a pigeon
found its way to Mauritius, it developed into the practically wingless
dodo; while in the northern penguins, on their icy perches, the fore
limbs have been gradually modified into swimming organs, exactly
analogous to the flippers of the seal.

Are the great animals now passing away and leaving no representatives of
their greatness to future ages? On land at least that is very probable.
Man, diminutive man, who, if he walked on all fours, would be no bigger
than a silly sheep, and who only partially disguises his native
smallness by his acquired habit of walking erect on what ought to be his
hind legs--man has upset the whole balanced economy of nature, and is
everywhere expelling and exterminating before him the great herbivores,
his predecessors. He needs for his corn and his bananas the fruitful
plains which were once laid down in prairie or scrubwood. Hence it seems
not unlikely that the elephant, the hippopotamus, the rhinoceros, and
the buffalo must go. But we are still a long way off from that final
consummation, even on dry land; while as for the water, it appears
highly probable that there are as good fish still in the sea as ever
came out of it. Whether man himself, now become the sole dominant animal
of our poor old planet, will ever develop into Titanic proportions,
seems far more problematical. The race is now no longer to the swift,
nor the battle to the strong. Brain counts for more than muscle, and
mind has gained the final victory over mere matter. Goliath of Gath has
shrunk into insignificance before the Gatling gun; as in the fairy tales
of old, it is cunning little Jack with his clever devices who wins the
day against the heavy, clumsy