_BY S. CROXALL_.
So much has been already said concerning Æsop and his writings, both by
ancient and modern authors, that the subject seems to be quite
exhausted. The different conjectures, opinions, traditions, and
forgeries, which from time to time we have had given to us of him, would
fill a large volume: but they are, for the most part, so inconsistent
and absurd, that it would be but a dull amusement for the reader to be
led into such a maze of uncertainty: since Herodotus, the most ancient
Greek historian, did not flourish till near an hundred years after Æsop.
As for his Life, with which we are entertained in so complete a manner,
before most of the editions of his Fables, it was invented by one
Maximus Planudes, a Greek Monk; and, if we may judge of him from that
composition, just as judicious and learned a person, as the rest of his
fraternity are at this day observed to be. Sure there never were so many
blunders and childish dreams mixed up together, as are to be met with in
the short compass of that piece. For a Monk, he might be very good and
wise, but in point of history and chronology, he shows himself to be
very ignorant. He brings Æsop to Babylon, in the reign of king Lycerus,
a king of his own making; for his name is not to be found in any
catalogue, from Nabonassar to Alexander the Great; Nabonadius, most
probably, reigning in Babylon about that time. He sends him into Egypt
in the days of Nectanebo, who was not in being till two hundred years
afterwards; with some other gross mistakes of that kind, which
sufficiently show us that this Life was a work of invention, and that
the inventor was a bungling poor creature. He never mentions Æsop's
being at Athens; though Phædrus speaks of him as one that lived the
greatest part of his time there; and it appears that he had a statue
erected in that city to his memory, done by the hand of the famed
Lysippus. He writes of him as living at Samos, and interesting himself
in a public capacity in the administration of the affairs of that place;
yet, takes not the least notice of the Fable which Aristotle[1] tells us
he spoke in behalf of a famous Demagogue there, when he was impeached
for embezzling the public money; nor does he indeed give us the least
hint of such a circumstance. An ingenious man might have laid together
all the materials of this kind that are to be found in good old authors,
and, by the help of a bright invention, connected and worked them up
with success; we might have swallowed such an imposition well enough,
because we should not have known how to contradict it: but in Planudes'
case, the imposture is doubly discovered; first, as he has the
unquestioned authority of antiquity against him; secondly, (and if the
other did not condemn him) as he has introduced the witty, discreet,
judicious Æsop, quibbling in a strain of low monastic waggery, and as
archly dull as a Mountebank's Jester.
[1] _Arist. Rhet._ Lib. ii. chap. 21.
That there was a Life of Æsop, either written or traditionary, before
Aristotle's time, is pretty plain; and that there was something of that
kind extant in Augustus' reign, is, I think, as undoubted; since Phædrus
mentions many transactions of his, during his abode at Athens. But it is
as certain, that Planudes met with nothing of this kind; or, at least,
that he met not with the accounts with which they were furnished,
because of the omissions before-mentioned; and consequently with none so
authentic and good. He seems to have thrown together some merry conceits
which occurred to him in the course of his reading, such as he thought
were worthy of Æsop, and very confidently obtrudes them upon us for his.
But, when at last he brings him to Delphos (where he was put to death by
being thrown down from a precipice) that the Delphians might have some
colour of justice for what they intended to do, he favours them with the
same stratagem which Joseph made use of to bring back his brother
Benjamin; they clandestinely convey a cup into his baggage, overtake him
upon the road, after a strict search find him guilty; upon that pretence
carry him back to the city, condemn and execute him.
As I would neither impose upon others, nor be imposed upon, I cannot, as
some have done, let such stuff as this pass for the Life of the great
Æsop. Planudes has little authority for any thing he has delivered
concerning him; nay, as far as I can find, his whole account, from the
beginning to the end, is mere invention, excepting some few
circumstances; such as the place of his birth, and of his death; for in
respect of the time in which he lived, he has blundered egregiously, by
mentioning some incidents as contemporary with Æsop, which were far
enough from being so. Xanthus, his supposed master, puts his wife into a
passion, by bringing such a piece of deformity into her house, as our
Author is described to be. Upon this, the master reproaches the slave
for not uttering something witty, at a time that seemed to require it so
much: and then Æsop comes out, slap dash, with a satirical reflection
upon women, taken from Euripides, the famous Greek tragedian. Now
Euripides happened not to be born till about fourscore years after
Æsop's death. What credit, therefore, can be given to any thing Planudes
says of him?
As to the place of his birth, I will allow, with the generality of those
who have written about him, that it might have been some town in Phrygia
Major: A. Gellius making mention of him, says, 'Æsopus ille, e Phrygia,
Fabulator.' That he was also by condition a slave, we may conclude from
what Phædrus[2] relates of him. But whether at both Samos and Athens, he
does not particularly mention: though I am inclined to think it was at
the latter only; because he often speaks of him as living at that place,
and never at any other; which looks as if Phædrus believed that he had
never lived any where else. Nor do I see how he could help being of that
opinion, if others of the ancients, whose credit is equally good, did
not carry him into other places. Aristotle introduces him (as I
mentioned before) speaking in public to the Samians, upon the occasion
of their Demagogue, or Prime Minister, being impeached for plundering
the commonwealth.
[2] Lib. ii. fab. 9. and Lib. iii. fab. 19.
I cannot but think Æsop was something above the degree of a slave, when
he made such a figure as an eminent speaker in the Samian State. Perhaps
he might have been in that low condition in the former part of his life;
and therefore Phædrus, who had been of the same rank himself, might love
to enlarge upon this circumstance, since he does not choose to represent
him in any higher sphere. Unless we allow him to be speaking[3] in as
public a capacity to the Athenians, upon the occasion of Pisistratus'
seizing their liberties, as we have before supposed he did to the
Samians. But, however, granting that he was once a slave, we have great
authority that he was afterwards not only free, but in high veneration
and esteem with all that knew him; especially all that were eminent for
wisdom and virtue. Plutarch, in his Banquet of the Seven Wise Men, among
several other illustrious persons, celebrated for their wit and
knowledge, introduces Æsop. And, though in one place he seems to be
ridiculed by one of the company for being of a clumsy mongrel shape;
yet, in general, he is represented as very courtly and polite in his
behaviour. He rallies Solon, and the rest, for taking too much liberty
in prescribing rules for the conduct of sovereign princes; putting them
in mind, that those who aspire to be the friends and counsellors of
such, lose that character, and carry matters too far when they proceed
to censure and find fault with them. Upon the credit of Plutarch,
likewise, we fix the Life of Æsop in the time of Croesus, King of Lydia;
with whom he was in such esteem, as to be deputed by him to consult the
Oracle at Delphos, and be sent as his envoy to Periander, King of
Corinth; which was about three hundred and twenty years after the time
in which Homer lived, and five hundred and fifty before Christ.
[3] _Phæd._ Lib. i. fab. 2.
Now, though this imaginary banquet of Plutarch does not carry with it
the weight of a serious history, yet we may take it for granted, that he
introduced nothing in his fictitious scene, which might contradict
either the written or traditionary Life of Æsop; but rather chose to
make every thing agree with it. Be that as it will, this is the sum of
the account which we have to give of him. Nor, indeed, is it material
for us to know the little trifling circumstances of his Life; as whether
he lived at Samos or Athens, whether he was a slave or a freeman,
whether handsome or ugly. He has left us a legacy in his writings that
will preserve his memory dear and perpetual among us: what we have to
do, therefore, is to show ourselves worthy of so valuable a present, and
to act, in all respects, as near as we can to the will and intention of
the donor. They who are governed by reason, need no other motive than
the mere goodness of a thing to incite them to the practice of it. But
men, for the most part, are so superficial in their inquiries, that they
take all upon trust; and have no taste for any thing but what is
supported by the vogue of others, and which it is inconsistent with the
fashion of the world not to admire.
As an inducement, therefore, to such as these to like the person and
conversation of Æsop, I must assure them that he was held in great
esteem by most of the great wits of old. There is scarce an author among
the ancient Greeks, who mixed any thing of morality in his writings,
but either quotes or mentions him.
Whatever his person was, the beauties of his mind were very charming and
engaging; that the most celebrated among the ancients were his admirers;
that they speak of him with raptures, and pay as great a respect to him
as to any of the other wise men who lived in the same age. Nor can I
perceive, from any author of antiquity, that he was so deformed as the
Monk has represented him. If he had, he must have been so monstrous and
shocking to the eye, as not only to be a very improper envoy for a great
king, but scarce fit to be admitted as a slave in any private family.
Indeed, from what Plutarch hints of him, I suspect he had something
particular in his mien; but rather odd than ugly, and more apt to excite
mirth than disgust, in those that conversed with him. Perhaps something
humorous displayed itself in his countenance as well as his writings;
and it might be upon account of both, that he got the name of
Gelotopoios, as Lucian calls him, and his works that of Geloia. However,
we will go a middle way; and without insisting upon his beauty, or giving
into his deformity, allow him to have made a merry comical figure; at least
as handsome as Socrates; but at the same time conclude, that this
particularity in the frame of his body was so far from being of any
disadvantage to him, that it gave a mirthful cast to every thing he said,
and added a kind of poignancy to his conversation.
We have seen what opinion the ancients had of our Author, and his
writings. Now, as to the manner of conveying instruction by Fables in
general, though many good vouchers of antiquity sufficiently recommend
it, yet to avoid tiring the reader's patience, I shall wave all
quotations from thence, and lay before him the testimony of a modern;
whose authority, in point of judgment, and consequently, in the present
case, may be as readily acknowledged as that of any ancient of them all.
"Fables[4]," says Mr. Addison, "were the first pieces of wit that made
their appearance in the world; and have been still highly valued, not
only in times of the greatest simplicity, but among the most polite ages
of mankind. Jotham's Fable of the Trees is the oldest that is extant,
and as beautiful as any which have been made since that time. Nathan's
Fable of the poor Man and his Lamb, is likewise more ancient than any
that is extant, besides the above-mentioned, and had so good an effect,
as to convey instruction to the ear of a king, without offending it,
and to bring the man after God's own heart to a right sense of his
guilt, and his duty. We find Æsop in the most distant ages of Greece.
And, if we look into the very beginning of the commonwealth of Rome, we
see a mutiny among the common people appeased by the Fable of the Belly
and the Members[5]; which was indeed very proper to gain the attention
of an incensed rabble, at a time, when, perhaps, they would have torn to
pieces any man who had preached the same doctrine to them, in an open
and direct manner. As Fables took their birth in the very infancy of
learning, they never flourished more than when learning was at its
greatest height. To justify this assertion, I shall put my reader in
mind of Horace, the greatest wit and critic in the Augustan age; and of
Boileau, the most correct poet among the moderns; not to mention La
Fontaine, who, by this way of writing, is come more into vogue than any
other author of our times." After this, he proceeds to give some account
of that kind of Fable in which the passions, and other imaginary beings,
are actors; and concludes with a most beautiful one of that sort, of his
own contriving. In another place, he gives us a translation from Homer
of that inimitable Fable comprised in the interview between Jupiter and
Juno, when the latter made use of the girdle of Venus, to recall the
affection of her husband; a piece never sufficiently to be recommended
to the perusal of such of the fair sex, as are ambitious of acquitting
themselves handsomely in point of conjugal complacence. But I must not
omit the excellent Preface, by which the Fable is introduced, "Reading
is to the mind[6]," says he, "what exercise is to the body: as by the
one, health is preserved, strengthened, and invigorated; by the other
virtue (which is the health of the mind) is kept alive, cherished, and
confirmed. But, as exercise becomes tedious and painful when we make use
of it only as the means of health, so reading is too apt to grow uneasy
and burdensome, when we apply ourselves to it only for our improvement
in virtue. For this reason, the virtue which we gather from a Fable or
an allegory, is like the health we get by hunting, as we are engaged in
an agreeable pursuit that draws us on with pleasure, and makes its
insensible of the fatigues that accompany it."
[4] Spect. No. 183.
[5] Fab. liv.
[6] Tatler, No. 147.