bestial aim, nor the instinct. I walk, I speak, I feel in me a certain
force, an intelligent principle which all my bodily mechanism obeys.
This force is distinct from anything connected with my body. It is
indeed more easily conceived than is the body itself, and of all our
movements it is the supreme controller. But how does the body conceive
and understand this intelligent force? That is the point! I see the tool
obeying the hand; but what guides the hand? Who guides the planets in
their rapid courses? It may be some angel guide controls the whirling
planets; and in like manner some spirit dwells in us and controls all
our machinery. The impulse is given--the impression made--but how, I do
not know! We shall only learn it in the bosom of God; and to speak
frankly, Descartes himself was no wiser. On that point we all are
equals. All that I know is that this intelligent controlling spirit does
not exist in the lower animals. Man alone is its temple.
Nevertheless, we must allow to the beasts a higher plane than that of
plants, notwithstanding the fact that plants breathe.
Is there any explanation to what I shall now relate? Two rats who were
seeking their living had the good fortune to find an egg. Such a dinner
was amply sufficient for folks of their species, they had no need to
look for an ox. With keen delight and an appetite to match they were
just about to eat up the egg between them, when an unbidden guest
appeared in the shape of Master Reynard the fox. This was a most awkward
and vexatious visitation. How was the egg to be saved from the jaws of
him? To wrap it up carefully and carry it away by the fore paws, or to
roll it, or to drag it, were methods as impossible as they were
hazardous. But Necessity, that ingenious mother, furnished the
never-failing invention. The sponger being as yet far enough away to
give the rats time to reach their home, one of them lay upon his back
and took the egg safely between his arms whilst the other, in spite of
sundry shocks and a few slips, dragged him home by the tail.
After this recital, let any one who dare maintain that animals have no
powers of reason.
For my part if I had the portioning of these faculties I would allow as
much reasoning power in animals as in infants, who evidently think from
their earliest years, from which fact we may conclude that one can think
without knowing oneself. I would, similarly, grant the animals a
reason, not such as we possess, but far above a blind instinct. I would
refine a speck of matter, a tiny atom--extract of light--something more
vivid and lively than fire; for since wood can turn to flame, cannot
flame, being further purified, teach us something of the rarity of the
soul? And is not gold extracted from lead? My creatures should be
capable of feeling and judgment; but nothing more. There should be no
argument from apes.
As to mankind, I would have their lot infinitely better. We men should
possess a double treasure; firstly, the soul common to us all, just as
we happen to be, sages or fools, children, idiots, or our dumb
companions the animals; secondly, another soul in common, in a certain
degree, with the angels, and this soul, independent of us though
belonging to us, should be able to reach to heavenly heights, whilst it
could also dwell within a point's space. Having a beginning it should be
without end. Things incredible but true. During infancy this soul,
itself a child of heaven, should appear to us only as a gentle and
feeble light; but as the faculties grew, the stronger reason would
pierce the darkness of matter enveloping our other imperfect and grosser
soul.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 8: At the time when this was written there was much discussion
among the learned in France as to the powers of reasoning in animals.]
[Footnote 9: The allusion is to Sobieski, whose victory over the Turks
made him famous throughout Europe in 1673. La Fontaine had frequently
met him in the salons of the cultured ladies of France.]
[Footnote 10: A nymph of one of the rivers of Hades named after her. She
became the mother of Zelus (zeal), Nike (victory), Kratos (power), and
Bia (strength).]
[Footnote 11: Also a river of Hades, the realm of the dead.]
[Footnote 12: Descartes is meant as the rival of the old philosopher
Epicurus.]
XXXI
THE DOG WITH HIS EARS CROPPED
(BOOK X.--No. 9)
"What have I done to be treated in this way? Mutilated by my own master!
A nice state to be in! Dare I present myself before other dogs? O ye
kings over the animals, or rather tyrants of them, would any creature do
the same to you?"
Such were the lamentations of poor Fido, a young house-dog, whilst those
who were busy cropping his ears remained quite untouched by his piercing
and dolorous howls.
Fido believed himself to be ruined for life; but he very shortly found
that he was a gainer by the maiming. For being by nature disposed to
pilfer from his companions, it would come within his experience to have
many misadventures wherein his ears would be torn in a hundred places.
Aggressive dogs always have ragged ears. The less they have for other
dogs' teeth to fasten upon the better.
When one has but a single weak place to defend, one protects it against
an onset. Witness Master Fido armed with a spiked collar, and having no
more ears to catch hold of than are on my hand. Even a wolf would not
have known where to take him.
XXXII
THE LIONESS AND THE SHE-BEAR
(BOOK X--No. 13)
Mamma lioness had lost one of her cubs. Some hunter had made away with
it, and the poor unfortunate mother roared out her wailings to such an
extent that all the inhabitants of the forest were seriously disturbed.
The spells of the night, its darkness and its silence, were powerless to
hush the tumult of the queen of the forest. Sleep was driven from every
animal within hearing.
At last the she-bear rose up and coming to the wailing lioness said,
"Good Gossip, just one word with you. All those little ones that have
passed between your teeth, had they neither fathers nor mothers?"
"To be sure they had."
"Then if that be so, and as none have come to mourn their dead in cries
which would split our heads: if so many mothers have borne their loss
silently, why cannot you be silent also?"
"I? I be silent? Unhappy I? Ah! I have lost my son! There is nought for
me but to drag out a miserable old age."
"But pray tell me what obliges you to do so."
"Alas! Destiny. It is Destiny that hates me."
[Illustration: Why cannot you be silent also?]
Those are the words that are for ever in the mouths of us all.
Unhappy human kind, let this address itself to you. I hear nothing but
the echoing murmur of trifling complaints. Whoever, in like case,
believes himself the hated of the gods, let him consider Hecuba,[13] and
he will render thanks for their clemency.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 13: Hecuba was the wife of Priam, King of Troy. When that city
fell Hecuba was chosen by Ulysses as part of his share in the spoils.
She was changed into a dog for avenging the death of her son whose eyes
had been put out by the King of Thracia, and she finally ended her life
by casting herself into the sea.]
XXXIII
THE RABBITS
(BOOK X.--No. 15)
When I have noticed how man acts at times, and how, in a thousand ways,
he comports himself just as the lower animals do, I have often said to
myself that the lord of these lower orders has no fewer faults than his
subjects.
Nature has allowed every living thing a drop or two from the fount at
which the spirits of all creatures imbibe.
I will prove what I say.
If at the hour when night has scarcely passed and day hardly begun I
climb into a tree, on the edge of some wood, and, like a new Jupiter
from the heights of Olympus, I send a shot at some unsuspecting rabbit,
then the whole colony of rabbits, who were enjoying their thyme-scented
meal with open eyes and listening ears upon the heath, immediately
scamper away. The report sends them all to seek refuge in their
subterranean city.
But their great fright is soon over; the danger quickly forgotten. Again
I see the rabbits more light-hearted than ever coming close under my
death-dealing hand.
Does not this give us a picture of mankind? Dispersed by some storm, men
no sooner reach a haven than they are ready again to risk the same winds
and the same distress. True rabbits, they run again into the
death-dealing hands of fortune.
Let us add to this example another of a more ordinary kind.
When strange dogs pass through any spot beyond their customary route
there is a grand to-do. I leave you to picture it. All the dogs of the
district with one idea in their heads join forces, barking and biting,
to chase the intruder beyond the bounds of their territory.
So, it may be, a similar joint-interest in property or in glory and
grandeur leads such people as the governors of states, certain favoured
courtiers, and people of a trade to behave exactly like these jealous
dogs. All of us, as a rule, rob the chance-comer and tear him to pieces.
Vain ladies and men of letters are usually so disposed. Woe betide the
newly-arrived beauty or a new writer!
As few as possible fighting round the cake! That's the best way!
I could bring a hundred examples to bear upon this subject; but the
shorter a discourse is the better. I take the masters of literature for
my model in this and hold that in the best of themes something should be
left unsaid for the reader to consider about. Therefore this discourse
shall end.
XXXIV
THE GODS WISHING TO INSTRUCT A SON OF JUPITER
(BOOK XI.--No. 2)
Jupiter had a son, who, sensible of his lofty origin, showed always a
god-like spirit. Childhood is not much concerned with loving; yet to the
childhood of this young god, loving and wishing to be loved was the
chief concern. In him, love and reason which grow with years, outraced
Time, that light-winged bearer of the seasons which come, alas! only too
quickly.
Flora,[14] with laughing looks and winning airs, was the first to touch
the heart of the youthful Olympian. Everything that passion could
inspire--delicate sentiments full of tenderness, tears, and sighs--all
were there: he forgot nothing. As a son of Jupiter he would by right of
birth be dowered with greater gifts than the sons of other gods; and it
seemed as though all his behaviour were prompted by the reminiscence
that he had indeed already been a lover in some former state, so well
did he play the part.
Nevertheless, it was Jupiter's wish that the boy should be taught, and
assembling the gods in council he said, "So far, I have never been at
fault in the conduct of the universe which I have ruled unaided; but
there are various charges which I now have decided to distribute amongst
the younger gods. This beloved child of mine I have already counted
upon. He is of my own blood and many an altar already flames in his
honour. Yet to merit his rank among the immortals it is necessary that
he should possess all knowledge."
As the god of the thunders ceased the whole assembly applauded. As for
the boy himself, he did not appear to be above the wish to learn
everything.
"I undertake," said Mars, the god of war, "to teach him the art by which
so many heroes have won the glories of Olympus and extended the empire."
"I will be his master in the art of the lyre," promised the fair and
learned Apollo.
"And I," said Hercules with the lion's-skin, "will teach him how to
overcome Vice and quell evil passions, those poisonous monsters which
like Hydras[15] are ever reborn in the heart. A foe to effeminate
pleasures, he shall learn from me those too seldom trodden paths that
lead to honour along the tracks of virtue."
When it came to Cupid, the god of love, to speak he simply said, "I can
show him everything."
And Cupid was right; for what cannot be achieved with wit and the desire
to please?
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 14: The Goddess of Spring and of Flowers, was also regarded by
the Greeks as the Goddess of Youth and its pleasures.]
[Footnote 15: The Hydra was a monster with one hundred heads. If one was
cut off two grew in its place unless the wound was stopped by fire.]
XXXV
THE LION, THE MONKEY, AND THE TWO ASSES
(BOOK XI.--No. 5)
King Lion, thinking that he would govern better if he took a few lessons
in moral philosophy, had a monkey brought to him one fine day who was a
master of arts in the monkey tribe. The first lesson he gave was as
follows:--
"Great King, in order to govern wisely a prince should always consider
the good of the country before yielding to that feeling which is
commonly known as self-love, for that fault is the father of all the
vices one sees in animals. To rid oneself of this sentiment is not an
easy thing to do, and is not to be done in a day. Indeed, merely to
moderate it is to achieve a good deal, and if you succeed so far you
will never tolerate in yourself anything ridiculous or unjust."
"Give me," commanded the king, "an example of each of those faults."
"Every species of creature," continued the philosopher, "esteems itself
in its heart above all the others. These others it regards as
ignoramuses, calling them by many hard names which, after all, hurt
nobody. At the same time this self-love, which sneers at other tribes
and other kinds of beasts, induces the individual to heap praise upon
other individuals of his own species, because that is a very good way of
praising oneself too. From this it is easy to see that many talents here
below are in reality but empty pretence, assumption, and pose, and a
certain gift of making the most of oneself, better understood by
ignorant people than by learned.
"The other day I followed two asses who were offering the incense of
flattery to each other by turns, and heard one say, 'My Lord, do you not
think that man, that perfect animal, is both unjust and stupid? He
profanes our august name by calling every one of his own kind an ass who
is ignorant, or dull, or idiotic; and he calls our laughter and our
discourse by the term "braying." It is very amusing that these human
people pretend to excel us!'
"'My friend,' said his companion, 'it is for you to speak, and for them
to hold their tongues. They are the true brayers. But let us speak no
more of them. We two understand each other; that is sufficient. And as
for the marvels of delight your divine voice lets fall upon our ears,
the nightingale herself is but a novice in comparison. You surpass the
court musician.'
"To this the other donkey replied, 'My lord, I admire in you exactly the
same excellencies.'
"Not content with flattering each other in this way, these two asses
went about the cities singing aloud each other's praises. Either one
thought he was doing a good turn to himself in thus lauding his
companion.
"Well, your majesty, I know of many people to-day, not among asses, but
among exalted creatures, whom heaven has been pleased to raise to a high
degree, who would, if they dared, change their title of 'Excellency to
that of 'Majesty.' I am saying more than I should, perhaps, and I hope
your majesty will keep the secret. You wished to hear of some incident
which would show you, among other things, how self-love makes people
ridiculous, and there I have given you a good instance. Injustice I will
speak of another time, it would take too long now."
Thus spoke the ape. No one has ever been able to tell me whether he ever
did speak of injustice to his king. It would have been a delicate
matter, and our master of arts, who was no fool, regarded the lion as
too terrible a king to submit to being lectured too far.
XXXVI
THE WOLF AND THE FOX IN THE WELL
(BOOK XI.--No. 6)
Why does Æsop give to the fox the reputation of excelling in all tricks
of cunning? I have sought for a reason, but cannot find one. Does not
the wolf, when he has need to defend his life or take that of another,
display as much knowingness as the fox? I believe he knows more, and I
dare, perhaps with some reason, to contradict my master in this
particular.
Nevertheless, here is a case where undoubtedly all the honour fell to
the dweller in burrows.
One evening a fox, who was as hungry as a dog, happened to see the round
reflection of the moon in a well, and he believed it to be a fine
cheese. There were two pails which alternately drew up the water. Into
the uppermost of these the fox leapt, and his weight caused him to
descend the well, where he at once discovered his mistake about the
cheese. He became extremely worried and fancied his end approaching, for
he could see no way to get up again but by some other hungry one,
enticed by the same reflection, coming down in the same way that he had.
Two days passed without any one coming to the well. Time, which is
always marching onward, had, during two nights, hollowed the outline
of the silvery planet, and Reynard was in despair.
[Illustration: Descended by his greater weight.]
At last a wolf, parched with thirst, drew near, to whom the fox called
from below, "Comrade, here is a treat for you! Do you see this? It is an
exquisite cheese, made by Faunus[16] from milk of the heifer Io.[17] If
Jupiter were ill and lost his appetite he would find it again by one
taste of this. I have only eaten this piece out of it; the rest will be
plenty for you. Come down in the pail up there. I put it there on
purpose for you."
A rigmarole so cleverly told was easily believed by the fool of a wolf,
who descended by his greater weight, which not only took him down, but
brought the fox up.
We ought not to laugh at the wolf, for we often enough let ourselves be
deluded with just as little cause. Everybody is ready to believe the
thing he fears and the thing he desires.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 16: The benign spirit of the fields and woods.]
[Footnote 17: A priestess who was changed by Hera, wife of Zeus, into a
white heifer.]
XXXVII
THE MICE AND THE SCREECH-OWL
(BOOK XI.--No. 9)
It is not always wise to say to your company, "Just listen to this joke"
or "What do you think of this for a marvel?" for one can never be sure
that the listeners will regard the matter in the same way that the
teller does. Yet here is a case that makes an exception to this good
rule, and I maintain that it is in truth wonderful, and, although it has
the appearance of being a fable, it is in reality absolute fact.
There was once an extremely old pine-tree which an owl, that grim bird
which Atropus[18] takes for her interpreter, had made to serve as his
palace. But there were other tenants lodging in its cavernous and
time-rotted trunk. These were mice, well fed, positive balls of fat, but
not one of them had a foot. They had all been mutilated. The owl had
nipped their feet off with his beak, whilst feeding and fostering them
with wheat from neighbouring stacks.
It must be confessed that this bird had reasoned.
Doubtless, in his time, when hunting mice, he had found that after
bringing them home they escaped again from the trunk, and to prevent
the recurrence of such a loss the artful rascal had thenceforth nipped
off the feet of all he caught, keeping them prisoners and eating them
one to-day and one to-morrow. To eat them all at once would have been
impossible. He had his health to think of. His forethought, which went
quite as far as ours, extended to bringing them grain for their
subsistence.
* * * * *
If this is not reasoning, then I do not understand what reasoning is.
See what arguments he used:--
"When these mice are caught they run away, therefore I must eat them as
I catch them. What all? Impossible! But would it not be well to keep
some for a needy future? If so, I must keep them and feed them too,
without their escaping. But how's that to be done? Happy thought! Nip
off their feet!"
Now find me among human beings anything better carried out. Did
Aristotle and his followers do any better thinking, by my faith?
NOTE.--This is not a fable. The thing actually occurred, although
marvellous enough and almost incredible. I have perhaps carried the
forethought of this owl too far, for I do not pretend to establish in
animals a line of reasoning; but in this style of literature a little
exaggeration is pardonable.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 18: One of the three Fates, the first and second being Clotho
and Lachesis. They spun, measured, and cut off, respectively, the thread
of life for men at their birth.]
[Illustration]
XXXVIII
THE COMPANIONS OF ULYSSES
(BOOK XII.--No. 1)
That great hero-wanderer Ulysses had been with his companions driven
hither and thither at the will of the winds for ten years, never knowing
what their ultimate fate was to be. At length they disembarked upon a
shore where Circe, the daughter of Apollo, held her court. Receiving
them she brewed a delicious but baneful liquor, which she made them
drink. The result of this was that first they lost their reason, and a
few moments after, their bodies took the forms and features of various
animals; some unwieldy, some small. Ulysses alone, having the wisdom to
withstand the temptation of the treacherous cup, escaped the
metamorphosis. He, besides possessing wisdom, bore the look of a hero
and had the gift of honeyed speech, so that it came about that the
goddess herself imbibed a poison little different from her own; that is
to say, she became enamoured of the hero and declared her love to him.
Now was the time for Ulysses to profit by this turn of events, and he
was too cunning to miss the opportunity, so he begged and obtained the
boon that his friends should be restored to their natural shapes.
"But will they be willing to accept their own forms again?" asked the
nymph. "Go to them and make them the offer."
Ulysses, glad and eager, ran to his Greeks and cried, "The poisoned cup
has its remedy, and I come to offer it to you. Dear friends of mine,
will you not be glad to have your manly forms again? Speak, for your
speech is already restored."
The lion was the first to reply. Making an effort to roar he said, "I,
for one, am not such a fool. What! renounce all the great advantages
that have just been given me? I have teeth. I have claws. I can pull to
pieces anything that attacks me. I am, in fact, a king. Do you think it
would suit me to become a citizen of Ithaca once more? Who knows but
that you might make of me a common soldier again. Thank you; but I will
remain as I am."
Ulysses, in sad surprise, turned to the bear. "Ah, brother! what form is
this you have taken, you who used to be so handsome?"
"Well, really! I like that!" said the bear in his way. "What form is
this? you ask. Why it is the form that a bear should have. Pray who
instructed you that one form is more handsome than another? Is it your
business to judge between us? I prefer to appeal to the sight of the
gentler sex in our ursine race. Do I displease you? Then pass on. Go
your ways and leave me to mine. I am free and content as I am, and I
tell you frankly and flatly that I will not change my state."
The princely Greek then turned to a wolf with the same proposals, and
risking a similar rebuff said: "Comrade, it overwhelms me that a sweet
young shepherdess should be driven to complain to the echoing crags of
the gluttonous appetite that impelled you to devour her sheep. Time was
when you would have protected her sheepfold. In those days you led an
honest life. Leave your lairs and become, instead of a wolf, an honest
man again."
"What is that?" answered the wolf. "I don't see your point. You come
here treating me as though I were a carnivorous beast. But what are you,
who are talking in this strain? Would not you and yours have eaten these
sheep, which all the village is deploring, if I had not? Now say, on
your oath, do you really think I should have loved slaughter any less if
I had remained a man? For a mere word, you men are at times ready to
strangle each other. Are you not, therefore, as wolves one to another?
All things considered, I maintain as a matter of fact that, rascal for
rascal, it is better to be a wolf than a man. I decline to make any
change in my condition."
In this way did Ulysses go from one to another making the same
representations and receiving from all, large and small alike, the same
refusals. Liberty, unbridled lust of appetite, the ambushes of the
woods, all these things were their supreme delight. They all renounced
the glory attaching to great deeds.
They thought that in following their passions they were enjoying
freedom, not seeing that they were but slaves to themselves.
XXXIX
THE QUARREL BETWEEN THE DOGS AND THE CATS AND BETWEEN THE CATS AND THE
MICE
(BOOK XII--No. 8)
Discord has always reigned in the universe; of this our world furnishes
a thousand different instances, for with us the sinister goddess has
many subjects.
Let us begin with the four elements. Here you may be astonished to
observe that they are, throughout, in antagonism to each other. Besides
these four potentates how many other forces of all descriptions are
everlastingly at war!