In fireless house, and domicils forlorn;[82]

so slothful, or so stupid, or so given to his gut he is, or else so

abandoned to all those vices together. And therefore Plato again and

again forbids, or rather makes it his wish, in his laws, that young

men might not be permitted to addict themselves to marine fishery,

wherein there is no exercise of strength, no cogitation of wisdom,

nor any thing that contributes to fortitude, swiftness, or agility,

in combating against pikes, congers, or scates; whereas, in the chase

of wild beasts, the fiercer sort accustom the huntsman to contempt

of danger, the more subtle sort exercise and sharpen his wit and

cunning, the swifter sort exercise his strength, and render him more

apt to endure labor. These are the advantages that accrue to a man by

hunting; but in fishing, there is nothing worth his while. For never

any of the Gods got honor by the surname of a conger-killer; as Apollo

was surnamed the wolf-slayer; never any of the Deities gloried in

being a darter of mullets, as Diana is honored with the addition of

hart-darting.

And what wonder is it, when it is accounted more noble for a man to

kill than to buy a wild boar, a hart, a goat, or a hare, but more

honorable to buy a tunny, a lobster, or an amy, than to kill one?

And therefore, because there is nothing in fishing that is noble, no

using of gins and slight of cunning, it is accounted a sorry, pitiful

exercise, not worth a man’s labor.

10. In general then, since the usual arguments by which philosophers

demonstrate that beasts partake of reason are these following,—purpose,

contrivance, memory, passions, care of their young ones, gratefulness

to those from whom they receive kindnesses, and the remembrance of

shrewd turns, to which we may add the search after and choice of what

is needful and beneficial for them, together with apparent shows of

virtue, as of fortitude, society, continence, and magnanimity,—if we

consider the marine creatures, we shall not find that our strictest

observation can perceive in them any of these excellences, or at

best they are such obscure and imperfect glimmerings as are scarce

discernible. But in terrestrial and land animals, there is not any man

but may behold the most luculent, the most evident and uncontrollable

demonstrations in the world of all that has been said. In the first

place, observe the designs and preparations of bulls provoked to

combat, and of wild boars whetting their teeth. Again, elephants—since,

by digging up or tearing down the trees which they intend to feed

upon, they blunt and wear out their tushes—make use of only one for

those purposes, but reserve the other strong and sharp for their own

defence. The lion also always walks with his feet inverted, hiding his

claws withinside his paw, to prevent the hunter from tracing him easily

by his footing. For the track of a lion’s claw is not easily to be

found, so that the hunters are frequently at a loss, and wander after

the obscure and scarce discernible footsteps of those beasts. You have

heard also, I suppose, of the ichneumon, how that he arms himself as

completely as a soldier with his breastplate and cuirass prepared for

battle; in such a manner does that creature surround and wrap himself

about with a coat of mail, when he attacks the crocodile.

Admirable are the preparations of swallows before they go to lay their

eggs, how they place the more solid stubble for foundations, and upon

that build up the slighter straws; and if they perceive that the

nest wants mud to serve as glue, you may observe how they fly to the

next lake or sea, and after they have skimmed the superficies of the

water with their wings,—so as to make them moist, yet not heavy with

wet,—they lick up the dust, and so daub and bind together the loose and

ill-cohering parts of the nest. As for the form of their architecture,

it is composed neither of angles nor of many sides, but smooth and,

as much as may be, spherical; for that such a figure is lasting and

capacious, and not easily affording entrance to creatures that lie in

wait for their destruction from without.

Who is there that does not admire, for more reasons than one, the labor

of the spiders, which seems as pattern for the threads that women spin

and the nets that are used in hunting? For the extraordinary fineness

of the spinning, and the evenness of the thread, not discontinued or

snapped off like the yarn upon a quill, but having the smooth and

subtle texture of a thin membrane, and knit and spun together with a

certain clammy moisture imperceptibly mixed; besides the tincture of

it, causing a kind of airy and misty color, the better to deceive; but

above all, the conduct and governing of this little engine, in which

when any thing happens to be entangled, you see how presently, like

an expert huntsman, the subtle artist contracts her net and binds her

prey within it;—all this being every day obvious to our sight and

contemplation gives credit to my discourse, which otherwise might be

accounted no less fabulous than what is reported of certain Libyan

crows, that, when they are a-thirsty, throw stones into the water, by

that means to raise it to such a height that they may be able to reach

it with their bills. Then again, when I saw a ship dog, in the absence

of the seamen, putting in stones in a half-empty jar of oil, it was to

me a wonder how that dog should understand that the pressure of the

heavier weight would make the lighter rise.

And the same artifices are reported of Cretan bees and Cilician geese.

For the first of these, being to take their flight about some windy

promontory, ballast themselves with little stones, to prevent their

being carried away by the stronger blasts. And as for the geese, they

being afraid of the eagles, every time they cross the mountain Taurus,

carry great stones in their mouths, to the end that by that means (as

it were) bridling their gaggling tongues, they may cross the mountain

in silence, without alarming their enemies.

Extraordinary also is the caution which the cranes observe in their

flight. For they fly, when the wind is very high and the air very

tempestuous, not as in fair weather, all afront or in manner of the

half-moon; but forming a triangular body, with the sharp angle of that

figure they penetrate the wind that ruffles round about them, and by

that means preserve their order unbroken. On the other side, when they

fall upon the ground, those that are upon the night-watch stand with

the whole weight of their bodies upon one leg, holding a stone in the

claw of the other foot. For the holding of the stone keeps them awake

for a long time together, and wakes them again with the noise of the

fall if they happen to drop asleep. So that it was no wonder that

Hercules laid his quiver under his arm-pit, and with his strenuous arm

embracing his bow,

Slept all the night, where’er he laid his load,

With his right-handed weight upon the wood.

Nor do I so much admire at him who was the first that hit upon the way

to open an oyster, when I meet with and consider the artifices of the

herons. For a heron, when he has swallowed a closed oyster, endures

the trouble and vexation of it for so long time, till he perceives it

soften and relaxed by the heat of his stomach; then casting it up again

gaping and divided, he takes out that which is fit for food.

11. But as it is a task of great labor accurately to relate the

economy and contrivances of the emmets, so it would argue too much of

negligence to pass them over in silence. For there is not in Nature a

smaller creature; and yet it is a most absolute mirror of the greatest

and most noble performances, and (as it were) in a transparent drop

the appearance of all virtue. There is friendship to be discerned in

their mutual society. There is the image of fortitude in the patient

undergoing of labor. In them are to be seen many seeds of continence,

many of wisdom and justice. Insomuch that Cleanthes, who denied that

beasts were endued with reason, could not forbear reporting how he met

with the following accident of a crowd of emmets, that came to another

ant-hill, bringing along with them a dead emmet. Presently other emmets

ascending out of their ant-hill seemed (as it were) to meet them, and

then disappeared again; and this was done twice or thrice. Till at

length the one side brought up from under ground a worm, as the price

of the dead emmet’s redemption, which the other party of pismires

receiving, delivered the dead emmet, and so departed. But that which

is apparent to all is their equity to each other when they meet one

another, while they that carry nothing always give way to those that

are burdened; nor are their divisions and partitions of things too

weighty for single carriage less remarkable, to the end the burdens may

be divided among many. But when they bring forth their little eggs and

expose them to the cold, Aratus makes it a sign of rainy weather.

When from her hollow cells th’ industrious ant

Her hidden store of eggs brings forth

For in that sense many read ἤια (_provision_) for ὤεα (_eggs_),

referring it to the providence of those little creatures, who, when

they find their provision in their magazines to begin to taint and

grow rotten, bring it forth and expose it to the open air, to prevent

the progress of the putrefaction. But that which above all things

demonstrates the surpassing excellency of their understanding is their

pre-apprehension of the germinating of wheat. For the wheat does not

remain dry and void of putrefaction, but grows moist and turns into

a kind of milky substance, when it changes from seed to become an

herb. For fear therefore that preserving the quality it should become

useless for food, they eat out the very principal part of the grain,

from whence the wheat sends forth its blossom. I must confess, I do

not approve of those who dig up ant-hills on purpose to improve their

learning (as it were) by anatomy. However, they tell us by virtue of

that cruel information, that the passage or descent from the top of the

hill to the nest is not directly straight nor easily penetrated by any

other creature, but intercepted with several turnings and windings,

leading through several underminings and perforations into three

cavities; of which the one is the common place of feeding and converse

for the whole community, the next is the general magazine of their

provision, and the third is the apartment where they dispose of their

dead.

12. I am afraid you may deem me too impertinent in joining elephants

with pismires, and yet I cannot but think it seasonable to show the

nature and force of understanding, as well in the smallest as in the

greatest bodies, neither obscured in the one nor deficient in the other.

Some there are that admire in an elephant his aptness to learn and to

be taught, and the many various postures and alterations of movement

which he shows upon the theatres, not easily to be equalled by human

assiduity, as subtle and abounding in memory and retention as man is.

But for my part, I rather choose to prove his evident understanding

from the passions and inclinations of the creature, that were never

taught him, but only infused by Nature, as being altogether unmixed and

pure without the help of art.

At Rome, not very long ago, there were many elephants that were taught

many dangerous postures, many windings and turnings and circular

screwings of their bulky bodies, hard to be expressed; among which

there was one, which, being duller than the rest, and therefore often

rated and chastised for his stupidity, was seen in the night-time, by

moonlight, without being forced to it, to practise over his lessons

with all the industry imaginable.

Agno tells a story of an elephant in Syria, that was bred up in a

certain house, who observed that his keeper took away and defrauded him

every day of half the measure of his barley; only that once, the master

being present and looking on, the keeper poured out the whole measure;

which was no sooner done, but the elephant, extending his proboscis,

separated the barley and divided it into two equal parts, thereby

ingeniously discovering, as much as in him lay, the injustice of his

keeper.

Another in revenge that his keeper mixed stones and dirt with his

barley, as the keeper’s meat was boiling upon the fire, took up the

ashes and flung them into the pot.

Another being provoked by the boys in Rome, that pricked his proboscis

with the sharp ends of their writing steels, caught one of them in his

proboscis, and mounted him up into the air, as if he intended to have

squashed out his guts; but upon the loud outcries of the spectators,

set him gently down again upon his feet, and so went on, believing he

had sufficiently punished the boy in scaring him. Many other things are

reported of the wild elephants that feed without control, but nothing

more to be admired than their passing of great rivers. For first of

all the youngest and the least flounces into the stream; whom the rest

beholding from the shore, if they see that the less bulky leader keeps

steady footing with his back above water, they are then assured and

confident that they may boldly adventure without any danger.

13. Having thus far proceeded in our discourse, I cannot think it well

done to pass by the cunning of the fox, by reason of the similitude

it has with the former. The mythologists tell us that the dove which

Deucalion sent out of his ark, returning back again, was to him a

certain sign of the storm not ceased; but of serene and fair weather,

when she flew quite away. But the Thracians to this day, when they

design to pass a river that is frozen over, make use of a fox to try

whether the ice will bear or no. For the fox, treading gently, lays

his ear to the ice, and if he perceive by the noise of the water that

the stream runs very close underneath, conjecturing from thence that

the congelation is not deep but thin, and no way steadfastly solid,

he makes a stop, and if he be suffered, returns back again; but if he

perceive no noise, he goes on boldly. Nor can we say that this is only

an exquisiteness of sense without reason; but it is a syllogistical

deduction from sense, concluding that whatever makes a noise is moved;

whatever is moved, cannot be frozen; what is not frozen, is moist; what

is moist, gives way. The logicians say that a dog, making use of the

argument drawn from many disjunctive propositions, thus reasons with

himself, in places where several highways meet: Either the wild beast

is gone this way, or that, or that way; but not that way, nor that way,

therefore this way: the force of sense affording nothing but the minor

premise, but the force of reason affording the major proposition, and

inferring the conclusion of the assumption. But a dog stands in no need

of any such testimonial; in regard it is both false and adulterate.

For sense itself shows which way the beast is fled, by his tracks and

footsteps, bidding farewell to disjunctive and copulative propositions.

The nature of dogs is palpably to be discerned by many other actions,

affections, and dutiful service, neither the effects of hearing or

seeing, but practicable only by reason and understanding. It would

be ridiculous for me to discourse of the continence, obedience, and

industry of dogs in hunting, to you that are so well confirmed in the

knowledge of those things by daily experience and practice.

There was a Roman named Calvus, slain in the civil wars, whose head

nobody durst cut off before they killed the dog that guarded his body

and fought in defence of his master. It happened that King Pyrrhus,

travelling one day, lit upon a dog watching over the carcass of a

person slain; and hearing that the dog had been there three days

without meat or drink, yet would not forsake his dead master, ordered

that the man should be buried, but that the dog should be preserved and

brought to him. A few days after, there was a muster of the soldiers,

so that they were forced to march all in order by the king, with

the dog quietly lying by him for a good while. But when he saw the

murderers of his master pass by him, he flew upon them with a more than

ordinary fury, barking and baying and tearing his throat, and ever and

anon turning about to the king; which did not only rouse the king’s

suspicion, but the jealousy of all that stood about him. Upon which the

men were presently apprehended; and though the circumstances were very

slight which otherwise appeared against them, yet they confessed the

fact and were executed.

The same thing is reported to have been done by a dog that belonged to

Hesiod, surnamed the wise, which discovered the sons of Ganyctor the

Naupactian, by whom Hesiod was murdered. But that which came to the

knowledge of our parents, when they were students at Athens, is yet

more evident than any thing we have said. For a certain person getting

into the temple of Aesculapius, after he had stolen all the massy

offerings of gold and silver, made his escape, not believing he was

discovered. But the dog which belonged to the temple, who was called

Capparus, when he found that none of the sacristans took any notice

of his barking, pursued himself the sacrilegious thief; and though at

first the fellow pelted him with stones, he could not beat him off.

So soon as it was day, the dog still followed him, though at such a

distance that he always kept him in his eyes. When the fellow threw

him meat he refused it; when the thief went to bed, the dog watched at

his door; and when he rose in the morning, the dog still followed him,

fawning upon the passengers on the road, but still barking and baying

at the heels of the thief. These things when they who were in pursuit

of the sacrilegious person heard, and were told withal by those they

met the color and bigness of the dog, they were the more vigorous in

the pursuit; and by that means overtaking the thief, brought him back

from Crommyon, while the dog ran before, leaping and capering and

full of joy, as it were challenging to himself the praise and reward

of apprehending the temple-robber. And indeed the Athenians were so

grateful to him, that they decreed him such a quantity of meat to

be publicly measured to him, and ordered the priests to take care to

see it done; in imitation of the kindness of the ancient Athenians in

rewarding the mule.

For when Pericles built the temple Hecatompedon (or Parthenon) in the

tower of Athens, it so fell out that the stones were to be fetched

every day many furlongs off, and a world of carriages were made use

of for that purpose. Among the rest of the mules that labored hard in

this employment, there was one that, though dismissed by reason of

age, would still go down to the Ceramicus, and meeting the carts that

brought the stones, would be always in their company running by their

sides, as it were by the way of encouragement and to excite them to

work cheerfully. So that the people, admiring the zeal of the mule,

ordered him to be fed at the public charge, as they were wont to decree

public alms to the superannuated wrestlers.

14. And therefore they who deny that there is any thing of justice

due from us towards dumb animals may be said to speak true, so far

as concerns them that live in the sea and haunt the abysses of the

deep. For those kind of creatures are altogether unsociable, without

affection for their young ones, void of all softness of disposition;

and therefore it was well said of Homer, speaking to a person whom he

looked upon as a mere savage,

But as for thee, so little worth,

The gleaming sea did bring thee forth;[83]

in regard the sea brings forth nothing friendly, nothing mansuete or

gentle. But he that uses the same discourse and arguments against

land animals is himself a brute and savage creature; unless any man

will affirm that there was nothing of justice due from Lysimachus to

the Hyrcanian dog, that would not stir from the body of his deceased

master, and when he saw his master’s carcass burning, ran and threw

himself into the flames. The same is reported to have been done by the

dog Astus, that was kept by one Pyrrhus, not the king, but a private

person of that name. For upon the death of his master, he would not

stir from the body, but when it was carried forth, leaped upon the

bier, and at length threw himself into the funeral pile, and was burnt

alive with his master’s body.

The elephant also which carried King Porus, when the king was wounded

in the battle against Alexander, pulled out several darts out of his

wounds with his proboscis, with no less tenderness and care than the

chirurgeon could have done; and though the elephant himself was but in

a very bad condition, yet would he not give over till he perceived the

king was ready to reel and sink down by reason of the blood which he

had lost; and then fearing lest the king should fall, he stooped down

gently, to ease the king in sliding to the ground.

Such was the humor of Bucephalus, who, before he was accoutred, would

suffer his groom to back him, but when he had all his royal trappings

and housings about him, would permit nobody but Alexander to bestride

him. But if any other persons approached him in curiosity to try what

they could do, he encountered them open-mouthed, and neighing out his

fury, leaped upon their shoulders, bore them down, and trampled them

under his feet, unless prevented by keeping at a distance or by speedy

flight.

15. Nor am I ignorant but that there is something of variety in every

one of these examples, which you must acknowledge. And indeed it is not

easy to find out the natural dexterity of any one ingenious and docible

animal, which is not accompanied with more than one single virtue.

Thus, where there is affection toward their young ones, there is desire

of praise. Where there is generosity, there is also moderation of

anger. Cunning likewise and understanding are rarely parted from daring

boldness and fortitude. But as for those that rather choose to divide

and distinguish every one of these virtues particularly by themselves,

they shall find in dogs a fair demonstration of a gentle and yet lofty

mind at the same time, in turning away from such as sit quietly upon

the ground; according to that of Homer,

With hideous noise the dogs upon him flew;

But sly Ulysses, who the danger knew,

Sate husht and still, and from his royal hand

His sceptre dropt, as useless in command.[84]

For dogs never bite or worry those that prostrate themselves at their

mercy and put on a face of humility. Thus they say the bravest of those

Indian dogs that fought against Alexander never stirred or so much

as looked about them upon the letting loose of a hart, a boar, and a

bear; but when they saw a lion, then they began to rouse, to shake,

and prepare themselves for the combat. By which it was plain that

they thought only the lion an antagonist worthy of their courage, but

despised all the rest as below their anger.

Your hounds that usually hunt hares, if they kill the hares themselves,

take great delight in tearing them to pieces and lapping up the blood.

But if the hare despairing of her life, as many times it happens, runs

herself to death, the hounds finding her dead will never touch her, but

stand wagging their tails, as if they did hunt not so much for the love

of the food as for victory and triumph’s sake.

16. There are many examples of cunning and subtlety abounding in

land creatures; but to omit slights and artifices of foxes, cranes,

and jackdaws, of which I shall say nothing, because they are things

already so well known, I shall make use of the testimony of Thales, the

ancientest of our philosophers, who is reported to have chiefly admired

the most excellent in any art or cunning.

A certain mule that was wont to carry salt, in fording a river, by

accident happened to stumble, by which means the water melting away the

salt, when the mule rose again he felt himself much lighter; the cause

of which the mule was very sensible of, and laid it up in his memory,

insomuch that every time he forded the same river, he would always

stoop when he came into the deepest part, and fill his vessels with

water, crouching down, and leaning sometimes to one side, sometimes to

the other. Thales hearing this, ordered the vessels to be well filled

with wool and sponges, and to drive the mule laden after that manner.

But then the mule, as he was wont, filling his burthens with water,

reasoned with himself that he had ill consulted his own benefit, and

ever afterwards, when he forded the same river, was so careful and

cautious, that he would never suffer his burthens so much as to touch

the water by accident.

Another piece of cunning, joined with an extraordinary affection to

their young ones, is to be observed in partridges, which instruct

their young ones, ere they are able to fly, when they are pursued by

the fowlers, to lay themselves upon their backs, their breasts covered

with some clod of earth or little heap of dirt, under which they may

lie concealed. On the other side, the old partridges do deceive the

fowlers, and draw them quite a contrary way, make short flights from

one place to another, thereby enticing the fowlers to follow them; till

thus allured from their young ones, the fowlers give over all hopes of

being masters of their game.

In like manner, hares returning to their forms dispose their leverets

one to one place, another to another, at the distance many times of

an acre of ground; so that, upon the tracing either of men or hounds,

they are sure not to be all in danger at one time,—themselves in the

mean time not easy to be tracked, by reason of the various windings and

turnings which they make, until at length, by giving a large leap, they

discontinue the print of their feet, and so betake themselves to their

rest.

A bear, when she perceives her winter sleep coming upon her, before

she grows stiff and unwieldy, cleanses the place where she intends

to conceal herself, and in her passage thither lifts up her paws as

high as she can, and treads upon the ground with the top of her toes,

and at length turning herself upon her back, throws herself into her

receptacle.

Your hinds generally calve at a distance from all places frequented by

flesh-devouring beasts; and stags, when they find themselves unwieldy

through surplusage of flesh and fat, get out of the way and hide

themselves, hoping to secure themselves by lurking, when they dare not

trust to their heels.

The means by which the land hedge-hogs defend and guard themselves

occasioned the proverb,

Many sly tricks the subtle Reynard knows,

But one the hedge-hog greater than all those

For the hedge-hog, as Ion the poet says,[85] when he spies the fox

coming,

Round as a pine-nut, or more sphere-like ball,

Lies with his body palisaded all

With pointed thorns, which all the fox’s slight

Can find no way to touch, much less to bite.

But the provision which the hedge-hogs make for their young ones is

much more ingenious. For when autumn comes, they creep under vines, and

shake off the grapes with their feet; which done they roll themselves

up and down, and take them up with their prickles, so that when they

creep away again, you would think it a walking cluster (and this we

have looked on and seen them do); after which returning to their holes,

they lay themselves down for their young ones to feed. Their holes have

two openings, one to the south, the other to the north. So that when

they perceive the alteration of the air, like pilots shifting their

sails, they stop up that which lies to the wind and open the other.

Which a certain person that lived at Cyzicus observing, took upon him

from thence at any time to tell in what corner the wind would sit.

17. As for love and observance of society joined with understanding

and prudence, Juba produces many examples of it in elephants. For it

is the usual practice of the elephant-hunters to dig large pits in the

elephants’ walks, and cover them slightly over with dry twigs or other

materials; into which if any elephant happens to fall, the rest fetch

wood and stones to fill up the cavity of the pit, that the other may

the more easily get out again. And some report of the elephants, that

they make prayers to the Gods by natural instinct, that they perform

divine ceremonies to the sea, and worship the rising sun, lifting up

the proboscis to heaven instead of hands. For which reason they are

creatures the most beloved of any by the Gods, as Ptolemy Philopator

testified. For having vanquished Antiochus, and being desirous to pay

a more than ordinary honor to the Deity, among many other oblations

of thanksgivings for his victory, he sacrificed four elephants. After

which being terrified with a dream, which threatened him with the wrath

of the Deity for that prodigious sacrifice, he sought out several ways

to expiate his offence, and among the rest by way of propitiation, he

erected four elephants of brass to atone for the four elephants he had

slaughtered.

Examples not inferior of the observance of society are to be found

among lions. For the younger carry forth the slow and aged, when they

hunt abroad for their prey. When the old ones are weary and tired, they

rest and stay for the younger that hunt on; who, when they have seized

upon any thing, call to the old ones, making a noise like the bleating

of a calf. They presently hear, and so meeting all together, they feed

in common upon the prey.

18. In the amours of many animals there is much variety. Some are

furious and mad; others observe a kind of human decency, and tricking

of themselves to set off their beauty, not without a courtly kind

of conversation. Such was the amour of the elephant at Alexandria,

that rivalled Aristophanes the grammarian. For they were both in love

with a girl that sold garlands; nor was the elephant’s courtship

less conspicuous than the other’s. For as he passed through the

fruit-market, he always brought her apples, and stayed with her for

some time, and thrusting his proboscis within her waistcoat, instead of

a hand, took great delight in gently feeling her breasts.

No less remarkable was the serpent in love with the Aetolian woman.

He came to her in the night, and getting under her garments to her

very skin, embraced her naked body; and never either willingly or

unwillingly did he do her any harm, but always about break of day

departed; which the kindred of the woman observing to be the common

custom of the animal, removed her a great way off. After that, the

serpent came not again for three or four days together, being all the

while, as it seemed, wandering about in search of her. But at length,

having with much ado found her out, he did not approach her with that

mildness as he was wont to do, but after a rougher manner; with his

folds having first bound her hands to her body, with the end of his

tail he lashed the calves of her legs; expressing thereby a gentle and

loving anger, which had more in it of indulgent expostulation than

punishment.

I say nothing of a goose in Egypt in love with a boy, nor of the ram

in love with Glauce who played on the harp; for the stories are in all

people’s mouths. And besides, I am apt to think you are satiated with

examples of this nature.

19. But as for starlings, magpies, and parrots, that learn to talk,

and afford their teachers such a spirit of voice, so well tempered and

so adapted for imitation, they seem to me to be patrons and advocates

in behalf of other creatures, by their talent of learning what they

are taught; and in some measure to teach us that those creatures also,

as well as we, partake of vocal expression and articulate sound. From

whence I conclude it a most ridiculous thing in them that would compare

these creatures with a sort of mute animals, I mean the fish, that

have not voice enough to howl or make a mournful noise. Whereas, in

the natural and untaught notes of these creatures, what music, what a

charming grace do we observe! To which the famous poets and choicest

singers among men bear testimony, while they compare their sweetest

odes and poems to the singing of swans and melody of nightingales. Now

in regard there is more of reason in teaching than in learning, we

are to believe Aristotle,[86] who assures us that terrestrial animals

do that likewise, in regard that nightingales have been observed

instructing their young ones to sing. Of which this may be a sufficient

proof, that such nightingales are known to sing worse that are taken

very young from the nest and deprived of the education of the old one.

For they both learn and are taught from the old one, not for hire

or to get reputation, but merely out of a delight in mixing their

notes together, and because they have a greater love for that which

is excellent and curious in the voice than for what is profitable.

Concerning which I have a story to tell you, which I heard from several

Greeks and Romans, who were eye-witnesses of the thing.

A certain barber in Rome, who had a shop right against the temple which

is called the Greeks’ Market, bred in his house a kind of a prodigy of

a magpie, whose tongue would be always going with the greatest variety

imaginable, sometimes imitating human speech, sometimes chattering her

wild notes, and sometimes humoring the sounds of wind instruments;

neither was this by any constraint, but as she accustomed herself, with

a more than ordinary ambition, to leave nothing unspoken, nothing that

her imitation should not master.

It happened a certain person of the wealthier sort, newly dead in the

neighborhood, was carried forth to be buried with a great number of

trumpets before him. Now in regard it was the custom of the bearers

to rest themselves before the barber’s shop, the trumpeters being

excellent in their art, and withal commanded so to do, made a long

stop, sounding all the while.

After that day the magpie was altogether mute, not so much as uttering

her usual notes by which she called for what she wanted, insomuch that

they who before admired as they passed to and fro at the chattering and

prating of the bird now much more wondered at her sudden silence; and

many suspected her to have been poisoned by some that affected peculiar

skill in teaching this kind of birds. But the greatest number were of

opinion, that the noise of the trumpets had stupefied her hearing,

and that by the loss of her hearing the use of her voice was likewise

extinguished. But her unusual silence proceeded from neither of these

causes, but from her retiring to privacy, by herself to exercise the

imitation of what she had heard, and to fit and prepare her voice as

the instrument to express what she had learned. For soon after she came

of a sudden to sight again, but had quitted all her former customary

imitations, and sounded only the music of the trumpets, observing all

the changes and cadences of the harmony, with such exactness of time as

was not to be imagined; an argument, as I have said before, that the

aptness in those creatures to learn of themselves is more rational

than readiness to be taught by others. Nor do I think it proper to pass

by in silence one wonderful example of the docility of a dog, of which

I myself was a spectator at Rome. This dog belonged to a certain mimic,

who at that time had the management of a farce wherein there was great

variety of parts, which he undertook to instruct the actors to perform,

with several imitations proper for the matters and passions therein

represented. Among the rest there was one who was to drink a sleepy

potion, and after he had drunk it, to fall into a deadly drowsiness and

counterfeit the actions of a dying person. The dog, who had studied

several of the other gestures and postures, more diligently observing

this, took a piece of bread that was sopped in the potion, and after

he had ate it, in a short time counterfeited a trembling, then a

staggering, and afterwards a drowsiness in his head. Then stretching

out himself, he lay as if he had been dead, and seemed to proffer

himself to be dragged out of the place and carried to burial, as the

plot of the play required. Afterwards understanding the time from what

was said and acted, in the first place he began gently to stir, as

it were waking out of a profound sleep, and lifting up his head, he

gazed about him. Afterwards to the amazement of the beholders, he rose

up, and went to his master to whom he belonged, with all the signs

of gladness and fawning kindness, insomuch that all the spectators,

and even Caesar himself (for old Vespasian was present in Marcellus’s

theatre) were taken with the sight.

20. But perhaps we may seem ridiculous for signalizing beasts in this

manner because they learn, since we find that Democritus affirms us

to have been their scholars in the greatest matters;—of the spider,

in weaving and repairing what we tear or wear out; of the swallow, in

building houses; and of the mournful swan and nightingale, in singing

and imitation. Moreover in others we observe a threefold practice of

physic, both natural and inbred. For tortoises make use of marjoram

and weasels eat rue, when they have devoured a serpent; and dogs purge

themselves from abounding gall with a certain sort of grass. The dragon

quickens the dimness of his sight with fennel; and the bear, coming

forth of her cave after long emaciation, feeds upon the wild arum,

for the acrimony of that herb opens and separates her guts when clung

together. At other times, being overcloyed with food, she repairs to

the emmet-hills, and thrusting forth her tongue all soft and unctuous,

by reason of the sweet kind of slime that all besmears it, till it be

crowded with emmets, at length swallows them down her throat, and so

recovers. And it is reported that the Egyptians observe and imitate the

bird called ibis, in purging and cleansing her bowels with the briny

sea-water. For which reason the priests, when they hallow themselves,

make use of the water of which the ibis has drunk; for that those birds

will not drink the water, if it be medicinal or otherwise infected.

Some beasts there are that cure themselves by abstinence; as wolves and

lions, who, when they are gorged with flesh, lie still and digest their

crudities by the warmth of one another’s bodies. It is reported also

of the tiger, that if a kid be thrown to her, she will not eat in two

days; but growing almost famished the third day, if she be not supplied

with another, she will tear down the cage that holds her, if she have

strength enough; yet all this while she will not meddle with the first

kid, as being her companion and fellow-housekeeper.

More than this, the elephants are said to make use of chirurgery; for

that being brought to persons wounded, they will draw forth the heads

of spears and arrows out of their bodies with little pain, and without

dilacerating and mangling the flesh.

The Cretan goats, which by eating dittany expel the arrows shot into

their bodies, taught women with child to understand the virtue of that

herb, so prevalent to expel the birth. For those goats being wounded

seek no other cure, but presently seek out and hunt for dittany.

21. But these things, though wonderful, are not so much to be admired

as are those beasts that understand the use of numbers and have the

power of reckoning, like the oxen about Susa. For there are oxen in

that place that water the king’s gardens with portable buckets, of

which the number is fixed. For every ox carries a hundred buckets every

day, and more you cannot force them to take or carry, would you never

so fain; insomuch that, when constraint has been used for experiment’s

sake, nothing could make them stir after they had carried their full

number. Such an accurate account do they take, and preserve the same in

their memory, as Ctesias the Cnidian relates it.

The Libyans deride the Egyptians for the fables which they report of

the oryx, which, as they say, makes a great noise upon the same day,

at the very hour, when the Dog-star, which they call Sothes, rises.

However, this is certain, that all their goats, when that star rises

truly with the sun, turn themselves and stand gazing toward the east;

which is a most unquestionable argument of that star’s having finished

its course, and agrees exactly with the astronomer’s observations.

22. But that my discourse may draw to a conclusion, let us (as the

saying is) move the stone over the sacred line, and add something

concerning the divinity and prophetic nature with which our terrestrial

creatures are endued. Which when we consider, we shall find that that

part of soothsaying which is founded upon the observation of birds is

not the meanest or most ignoble, but very ancient and in great esteem.

For the smartness and intelligible faculty of birds, together with

their capability to receive all impressions of fancy, afford the Deity

a convenience to make use of those faculties as instruments, that he

may turn them into motion, sounds, chirpings, and forms, now to stop

and stay, anon to drive forward like the winds; by means of some of

these stopping short, by the means of others directing to their end,

the actions and impetuous impulses of men. Therefore Euripides in

general calls birds the criers of the Gods; and particularly Socrates

styles himself a fellow-servant with the swans. As among princes,

Pyrrhus was pleased with the surname of Eagle; and Antiochus loved to

be called Antiochus the Falcon. But they who deride men as insipid

and void of ingenuity call them by the names of fish. And whereas we

can produce millions of things and accidents which are foretold us by

land and flying creatures, there is not any one such example that the

patrons of water-animals can produce in their behalf; but being all

void of hearing, perfectly sottish, and without any sight, discerning,

or providence, they are all thrown apart into that same place, unblest

and hideous, called the sea, as it were into the region of the ungodly,

where the rational and intellectual part of the soul is extinguished;

being animated with only some diminutive portion, the lowest that may

be imagined, of a confused and overwhelmed sense, so that they rather

seem to palpitate than breathe.

23. HERACLEO. Pluck up your brows then, friend Phaedimus; after all

this, it is time to rouse thyself in the defence of the islanders,

and others that live by the seaside. For this has been no frivolous

discourse, but a hard fought contest, and a continued piece of rhetoric

that wanted only lattices and a pulpit to give it the honor it deserved.

PHAEDIMUS. Therefore, you see, it is plain here has been foul play and

treachery in the case, for a person sober and upon premeditation to

set upon us when we were stomach-sick and dozed with our last night’s

compotation. But there is no way to avoid the combat; for that, being

an imitator of Pindar, it shall never be said of me.

Combats refused, when nobly set upon,

Have virtue into deepest darkness thrown.

For we have leisure enough, as having not only allowed ourselves a

vacation from jollity and balls, but our hounds and horses a relaxation

from their labors, and withal having hung up our drag-nets and spears,

as having also this day granted, for disputation’s sake, a general

truce to all creatures, as well upon the land as in the sea. However,

fear not; for I will use it moderately, without producing either

the opinions of philosophers or the fables of the Egyptians, or the

relations either of the Indians or Libyans, wanting testimony; but

such as shall be verified by good witnesses, who have made it their

business to toil upon the ocean, and such as are evident to the eye.

For to say truth, there is not any one of those examples produced from

the land which is not apparent and openly manifested to our sense.

Whereas the sea affords few but such as are difficult to be discerned,

as concealing the generation and nourishment of most of her creatures,

their antipathies, and ways of preserving themselves; in reference to

which many acts of understanding, memory, and community are unknown

to us, so that we cannot be so copious in our discourse. Then again,

land animals, by reason of their familiarity and cohabitation, being

in some measure accustomed to the conditions of men, become capable of

their nutriture, education, and imitation; which sweetens and allays

all their acerbity and moroseness, like the mixture of fresh water

with sea brine, and awakening that which is slow and disordered in

them, inflames it with human motions. Whereas the living of sea animals

being by many degrees remote from the converse of men, and having

nothing adventitious or that may be said to be acquired by custom and

familiarity, is altogether peculiar, genuine, and unmixed with manners

strange and foreign to them; which proceeds not from Nature, but

from the place itself. For Nature, receiving and cherishing whatever

knowledge comes to herself, affords it also to fish, and makes many

eels tame and familiar to men, which for that reason are called sacred,

like those in the fountain Arethusa; so that in many places there are

fish that will hear and obey when called by their names, as the story

goes of Crassus’s mullet, upon the death of which he wept. For which

when Domitius twitted him in these words, Did not you weep when your

mullet died?—he retorted upon him again, Did you not bury three wives

and never weep at all? The crocodiles belonging to the priests not only

know the voices of those that call them, and suffer themselves to be

stroked and handled, but gaping hold out their teeth to be cleansed and

wiped by the hands of the priests.

Lately Philinus, after he had been long travelling in Egypt, returning

to us, told us how he saw, in the city which derives its name from

Anteus, an old woman sleeping by the side of a crocodile, upon a low

soft bed well and decently dressed up.

In ancient histories we find that when King Ptolemy called the sacred

crocodile, and when the crocodile neither vouchsafed to appear at his

call nor would answer to the earnest expostulations of the priests, it

was looked upon as a prognostication of the death of the king, which

happened soon after. Which shows that the race of water-animals is

neither without a share of that inestimable thing called prophetic

signification, nor undeserving those honors ascribed to land creatures.

For that about Sura, which is a village in Lycia between Phellus and

Myra, I have heard it credibly reported, that there are certain persons

who make it their business to watch the turns, flights, and pursuits

of the fish, whence, by a certain art which they have, they gather

predictions, as others from the observation of birds.

24. But let these examples suffice to show, that fish are not

altogether strangers to mankind, nor altogether void of human

affection. But for a great and common demonstration of their unmixed

and natural understanding, we find that there is not any fish that

swims, unless they be such as stick and cling to the rocks, which is so

easily taken by men, as asses are seized by wolves, bees by bee-eaters,

grasshoppers by swallows, serpents by harts. And these last are

therefore called ἔλαφοι, not from their swiftness (ἐλαφρότης), but from

a faculty which they have of drawing serpents to them (ἕλκειν ὄφεις).

So sheep call the wolf by the sound of their feet, and the panther

allures to her paws both apes and other creatures by the fragrant smell

of her body. But so suspicious is the sense of all water animals, and

so watchful are they to avoid all baits and treacheries against them,

by reason of their extraordinary cunning, that fishing thereby becomes

no easy or single labor, but a toil that requires various instruments

and many tricks of human cunning and deceit. This is apparent from

examples near at hand. For no man desires an angling-rod too thick,

though strong enough to hold against the twitches of the fish when

taken; but rather they require it slender, lest by casting too great a

shadow upon the water, it should frighten the suspicious creature. In

the next place, they never knit too many knots in the line, but make it

as smooth as may be, for that would too much discover the deceit; and

then for the hairs which are next the hook, they endeavor to get the

whitest they can meet with; for so, by reason of the likeness of color,

they lie the more easily concealed in the water. Therefore some there

are who, wrongly expounding the following verses of Homer,[87]

She to the bottom quickly sinks, like lead,

Which fixt to horn[88] of rustic ox descends,

And brings destruction to the greedy fish,

believe that the ancients made use of ox-hair for their lines with

which they angled, alleging that κέρας then signified hair,—from whence

κείρασθαι, _to be shaved_, and κουρά, _shaving_,—and that κεροπλάστης

in Archilochus signified one who takes delight in trimming and decking

the hair. But this is an error. For they made use of horse-hair, more

especially that of male horses. For mares, by moistening their tails

with their urine, render the hair weak and brittle. Though Aristotle

will not allow any thing to be said in all this that requires such

extraordinary subtlety. Only he says, that the lower piece of the line

was fortified with a little hollow piece of horn, lest the fish should

come at the line itself and bite it off; moreover, that they made use

of round hooks to catch mullets and tunnies, in regard they had but

small mouths, for that they were afraid of a straight hook. He also

further says, that the mullet many times suspecting the round hook,

will swim round about it, flapping the bait with his tail, and then

turning round, secures to himself so much as he has broken off. Or if

he cannot do that, he shuts his mouth close; and with the extremities

of his lips nibbles off some part of the bait.

The fish called labrax behaves himself more stoutly than the elephant;

for when he perceives himself struck with the hook, without assistance

he sets himself at liberty, widening the wound by flinging his head to

and fro, and enduring the painful twingings of the hook, till he have

freed himself from it with the loss of his flesh. The sea fox (or the

fish called alopex) seldom bites, but avoids the deceit; but if he

chance to be taken, he presently turns the inside of his body outward.

For by reason of the strength and moisture of his body, he has a

peculiar faculty to turn it so that, the inside coming to be outermost,

the hook falls off. These things demonstrate understanding, and a

subtle and extraordinary use of it in the nick and juncture of time.

25. Other examples there are which show not only this same

understanding and knowledge, but the community and mutual affection of

fish. Thus, if one scate happen to swallow the hook, all the rest of

the scates that are in the same shoal presently crowd together and bite

the line in pieces. The same scates, if any of their companions fall

into the net, give the prisoners their tails to take hold of with their

teeth, and so draw them forth by main force.

But the fish called anthiae with far more courage assist their fellows

in distress. For getting under the line with their backs, and setting

up their fins, with these, as with sharp saws, they endeavor to cut it

in two.

Now we know no land animal that will assist and defend his kind in

danger; neither the bear, nor the wild boar, nor the lion, nor the

panther. True it is that, when they are in herds together, they will

gather into a circle and defend each other in common; but no single

land animal either knows or cares to assist a single companion, but

flies and shifts for himself as far off as he can from the beast that

is wounded and lies a dying. For as for that old story of elephants

filling up the ditches with heaps of adjoining materials, whether wood

or earth, for the unfortunate elephant the more easily to get up again,

this, my good friend, is extremely uncouth and foreign to us, as if we

were bound to believe Juba’s books by virtue of a royal edict. However,

if it is true, it does but serve to show that many of the marine

creatures are nothing inferior in understanding and community to the

most intelligent of the land animals. But as for their mutual society,

we shall discourse apart of that by itself.

26. Now the fishermen, observing how that most fish avoided the casts

of their hooks by cunning or by striving with the tackling, betook

themselves to force,—as the Persians use to serve their enemies in

their wars,[89]—making use of nets, that there might be no escape for

those that were caught either by the help of reason or subtlety. Thus

mullets and the fish called julides are taken with sweep-nets and

drag-nets, as are also several other sorts of fish called mormuri,

sargi, gobii, and labraces; those that are called casting-nets catch

the mullet, the gilthead, and the scorpion fish; and therefore Homer

calls this sort of net πανάγρα, or the _all-sweeper_.[90] And yet there

are some fish that are too cunning for these nets. Thus the labrax,

perceiving the drawing of the sweep-net, with the force of his body

beats a hollow place in the mud, where he lays himself close till the

net be gone over him. But as for the dolphin, when he finds himself

taken and in the midst of the net, he remains there without being in

the least perplexed, but falls to with a great deal of joy, and feasts

upon the numerous fry within the meshes; but so soon as he comes near

the shore, he bites his way through the net with his teeth and swims

away. Or if he chance to be taken, the fishermen do him no other harm

the first time, but only sew a sort of large bulrush to the finny crown

upon his head, and so let him go. If they take him a second time, they

punish him with stripes, well knowing him again by the prints of the

needle. But that rarely happens. For having got pardon the first time,

for the most part of them, they acknowledge the favor, and abstain from

spoil for the future.

Moreover, among the many examples that make evident the wariness of

fish in avoiding the deceits and craft of the fishermen, it would

not be convenient to pass by that of the cuttle-fish. For this fish,

carrying near his neck a certain black and inky sort of liquor, so

soon as he perceives himself discovered, throws that liquor forth,

and darkens all the water round about him in such a manner that, the

fisherman losing sight of him, by that means he makes his escape;

imitating therein Homer’s Deities, who, when they had a mind to save

any of their heroes, hid them in an azure cloud. But of this enough.

27. Now for the extraordinary subtlety of fish in hunting and catching

their own prey, we shall meet with several examples of it in several

fish. Particularly the star-fish, understanding his own nature to be

such that whatever he touches dissolves and liquefies, readily offers

his body, and permits himself to be touched by all that come near him.

You know yourself the property of the torpedo or crampfish, which not

only benumbs all those that touch it, but also strikes a numbness

through the very net into the hands of them that go about to take him.

And some that have had greater experience of this fish report that,

if it happen to fall alive upon the land, they that pour water upon

it shall presently perceive a numbness seizing upon their hands and

stupefying their feeling, through the water affected with the quality

of the fish. And therefore, having an innate sense of this faculty, it

never makes any resistance against any thing, nor ever is it in danger.

Only swimming circularly about his prey, he shoots forth the effluviums

of his nature like so many darts, and first infects the water, then the

fish through the water, which is neither able to defend itself nor to

escape, being (as it were) held in chains and frozen up.

The fish called the fisherman is well known to many, who has his name

given him from his manner of catching fish; whose art, as Aristotle

writes, the cuttle-fish makes use of, for he lets down, like a line, a

certain curl which Nature has given him, so ordered as to let it run

out at length or draw it to him again, as he sees occasion. This, when

he sees any of the lesser fish approach, he offers them to bite, and

then by degrees pulls the curl nearer and nearer by virtue of the bait,

till he has drawn his prey within the reach of his mouth. And as for

the polypus’s changing his color, Pindar has made it famous in these

words:

In any city may that man expose

His safety, who well knows

Like sea-bred polypus to range,

And vary color upon every change.

In like manner Theognis:

Change manners with thy friends, observing thus

The many-colored, cunning polypus;

Who let him stick to whatsoever rock,

Of the same color does his body look.[91]

It is true the chameleon changes color, not out of any design or

to conceal himself, but out of fear, being naturally timorous and

trembling at every noise he hears. And this is occasioned by the

extraordinary abundance of breath which he enjoys, as Theophrastus

affirms. For the whole body of this creature wants but little of being

nothing else but lungs; which demonstrates him to be full of spirits,

and consequently apt to change. But this same change of the polypus

is no product of any affection of the mind, but a kind of action.

For he changes on purpose, making use of this artifice to escape

what he fears, and to get the food which he lives by. For by fraud,

those things that he will take never avoid him, and those things he

will escape pass him by without taking any notice of him. For that

he devours his own claws is an untruth, but that he is afraid of

the lamprey and conger is certain; for by these he is ill treated,

not being able to return them any injury, by reason of their being

so slippery. Though on the other side the crawfish, having once got

them within his claws, holds them with ease. For slenderness affords

no help against roughness; but when the polypus comes to thrust his

horns into the body of the crawfish, then also the crawfish dies.

And this same vicissitude of avoiding and pursuing one another has

Nature infused into them on purpose to exercise their subtlety and

understanding.

28. Then again we have heard Aristotimus relating how the land

hedge-hog had a perception of the rising of the wind, and praising the

trigonal flight of cranes. But for my part, I produce no particular

hedge-hog of Cyzicus or Byzantium, but all the sea hedge-hogs in

general; who, when they perceive a storm coming, ballast themselves

with little stones, lest they should be overturned by reason of their

lightness or carried away by the rolling of the waves, which they

prevent by the weight of their little stones.

On the other side, the cranes’ order in their flight against the wind

is not of one sort. But this is a general notion among all fish, that

they always swim against the waves and the tide, and always take care

lest the wind being in their tails should force their fins from their

backs, and leave their naked bodies exposed to the cold and other

inconveniences; and therefore they still oppose the prows of their

bodies against the waves. For that while they thus cleave the waves at

the top, the sea keeps their fins close, and lightly flowing over the

superficies of their bodies, becomes less burdensome, besides that it

suffers not their scales to rise.

This, I say, is common to all fish, except that fish which is called

ellops; which, as they report, always swims with the wind and tide, not

minding the erection or opening of the scales, which do not lie towards

the tail, as in other fish.

29. Moreover, the tunny is so sensible of the equinoxes and solstices,

that he teaches even men themselves without the help of any

astrological table. For where the winter solstice overtakes him, there

he remains till the vernal equinox.

As for that same artifice of the cranes, that keep themselves waking

by clutching a stone in their claws, how much more cunningly done is

that of the dolphin, for whom it is not lawful to stand still or to

be out of motion. For it is the nature of the dolphins to be always

in motion; so that, when they cease to move, they also cease to live.

And therefore when sleep seizes them, they raise their bodies to the

superficies of the sea, and so sinking down again with their bellies

upward, are carried along with the tide till they touch again the

shore. Wakened in that manner, with an impetuous noise they mount

upward again, designing thus a kind of rest still intermixed with

motion. And the same thing is reported of the tunnies for the same

reason.

Having thus concluded their mathematical foreknowledge of the mutations

of the sun, of which Aristotle gives testimony, let me now relate their

skill in arithmetic; but first of all, their knowledge in optics, of

which Aeschylus seems not to have been altogether ignorant. For these

are his words:

Casting a squint-eye like the tunny.

For tunnies seem to be dim-sighted of one eye. And therefore, when they

enter the Euxine Sea, they coast along the land on the right side, and

contrariwise when they come forth; prudently committing the care of

their bodies to the best eye.

But wanting arithmetic in order to the preservation of mutual love

and society one with another, they arrive in such a manner to the

perfection of that science, that, in regard they are extremely desirous

to enjoy the society of each other, they always make up their whole

fry into the form of a cube, and make a solid of the whole number

consisting of six equal planes; and then they swim in such order as to

present an equal front in each direction. So then, if the observer of

the tunnies does but exactly take the number of the side that he sees,

he knows the whole number of the shoal; well knowing that the depth is

equal to the breadth and length.

30. The fish amiae, which are another sort of tunnies, are so called,

because they swim in shoals, as also the pelamydes or summer whitings.

As for the rest that are seen to swim in shoals and to observe a mutual

society, their number is not to be expressed. And therefore let us

proceed to those that observe a kind of private and particular society

one with another. Among which is the pinoteras of Chrysippus, upon

which he has expended so much ink, that he gives it the precedency in

all his books, both physical and ethical. For Chrysippus never knew the

spongotera, for he would not have passed it over out of negligence.

The pinoteras is so called, from watching the fish called pina or the

nacre, and in shape resembles a crab; and cohabiting with the nacre,

he sits like a porter at his shell-side, which he lets continually to

stand wide open until he spies some small fishes gotten within it,

such as they are wont to take for their food. Then entering the shell,

he nips the flesh of the nacre, to give him notice to shut his shell;

which being done, they feed together within the fortification upon the

common prey.

The sponge is governed by a certain little creature more like a spider

than a crab. For the sponge wants neither soul nor sense nor blood;

but growing to the stones, as many other things do, it has a peculiar

motion from itself and to itself, which nevertheless stands in need as

it were of a monitor or instructor. For being otherwise of a substance

loose and open, and full of holes and hollowness, by reason of the

sloth and stupidity of it the sponge-watcher assists to give notice

when any thing of food enters the cavities of it, at which time the

sponge contracts itself and falls to feeding.

But if a man approach and touch it, being nipped and admonished by the

sponge-watcher, it seems to shudder and shut up the body of it, closing

and condensing it in such a manner as makes it no easy thing to cut it

from the place where it grows.

The purple shell-fish also, called porphyrae, clustering together in

a kind of mutual society, build up little combs for themselves like

bees, wherein they are said to generate; and culling out the choicest

substance of the moss and seaweed that stick to their shells, they seem

to be in a circular commons among themselves, feeding the one upon the

other’s nourishment.

31. But why should we admire society in these creatures, when the most

savage and most unsociable of all creatures which either lakes, rivers,

or the ocean nourishes, the crocodile, shows himself the most sociable

and grateful of water monsters in the banquets which he bestows upon

the trochilus? For the trochilus is a bird that haunts marshes and

rivers, and he guards and watches over the crocodile, not as one

that feeds at his table, but as one that lives upon his scraps and

leavings only. For when this bird observes the crocodile asleep, and

the ichneumon ready to assail him, smeared with mud for the conflict

like a wrestler covered with dust, he never leaves crying and pecking

him with his beak, till he rouse the drowsy monster. In return of which

the crocodile is so tame and gentle towards this bird, that he permits

him to enter his yawning chaps, and is pleased with his pecking out and

cleansing away with his beak the remainders of the devoured flesh that

sticks between his teeth. And when the monster has an inclination to

shut his mouth, he gives the bird notice by a gentle lowering of his

jaw, nor will he close his chaps till he finds that the bird is flown

away. The fish which the Greeks call hegemon (or the captain or leader)

is a small fish, in bigness and shape not much unlike a gudgeon, but

by reason of the roughness of his scales is said to resemble a bird

when she shakes her feathers. This fish always keeps company with one

of the huge whales, and swims before him to direct his course, lest he

should bruise himself upon the shallows, or fall into any marshy place

or narrow haven whence he could not easily get out again. Therefore the

whale follows him, as the ship follows the helm, directing his course

with confidence. All other things whatever, whether skiff, whether

beast or stone, that chance to light into the gaping gulf of the

whale’s mouth, immediately perish, being swallowed by the monster; but

acknowledging his conductor, he receives him and lodges him, like an

anchor, safely in his jaws. There he sleeps; and all the while he takes

his rest, the whale lies still, as if he were at anchor; and when his

guide comes forth again, the whale proceeds, never forsaking him night

or day; or if he wander without his leader, the monster shipwrecks,

like a vessel cast upon a rock without a helm. And this we saw not long

ago near Anticyra, where they report that in former times a whale being

cast and putrefying caused a pestilence.

Is it worth while then to compare these observations of community and

association with those sympathies which, as Aristotle relates, exist

between foxes and serpents because the eagle is an enemy to both?

Or with those of the horn-owls with horses, whose dung they love to

scrape about the field? For my part I observe no such care of one

another in bees and emmets, which, by reason of their multitude, carry

on and perfect their work in common, but have no particular care or

consideration one of another.

32. We shall observe this difference more evidently, if we direct our

discourses upon the most ancient and greatest works of common society,

which are the works of generation and procreation of offspring. For in

the first place, those fish that frequent the shores next adjoining

to vast lakes or great rivers, when they are near their time of

bringing forth, retire up into those places, seeking the fresh waters

which are more gentle and void of brine. For tranquillity is most

convenient for such as bring forth, and there is most safety in rivers

and lakes for their young ones, as being freest from the devouring

monsters of the sea. Which is the reason that there is the greatest

plenty of fish about the Euxine Sea, where there are no whales, but

only small sea-calves or little dolphins. Besides, the mixture of

rivers, many in number, and those very large, that fall into the

Pontus, make the temperature more kindly and proper for breeding and

bringing forth. And that is most wonderful which is reported of the

anthias, which Homer[92] calls the sacred fish, though some interpret

sacred to signify great in that place, as we call a certain great bone

_os sacrum_, and the epilepsy, being a great disease, the _sacred

disease_, though others interpret that to be sacred which ought not

to be touched, as being dedicated to holy use. And Eratosthenes seems

to take the gilthead, so called from the golden hair about his eyes,

for the sacred fish; though many believe it to be the ellops,—a fish

seldom seen and difficult to be caught, yet many times it appears in

the rivers of Pamphylia. So they that catch them are crowned, and their

boats are also adorned with garlands, and as they pass along they are

received and honored with loud shouts and clapping of hands. However

it be, most people take the anthias to be a sacred fish, because

that where the anthias appears, there are no sea-monsters, but the

sponge-cutters dive boldly, and the fish as fearlessly spawn, as having

a pledge for their security. And the reason is twofold, either because

the sea-monsters dread the anthias, as elephants dread a hog, and lions

a cock; or else it is a sign that there are no sea-monsters in those

places, which the anthias knows and observes, as being an intelligent

fish, endued with sense and a good memory.

33. Then again, the care of their young is common to both sexes. For

the males never devour their offspring, but remain and abide constantly

by the spawn, protecting it with a diligent watchfulness, as Aristotle

relates; and those that accompany the females moisten the spawn with

a small quantity of milky seed; for that otherwise the spawn will not

grow, but remains imperfect and never arrives at the due proportion.

Particularly the fish called phycides make themselves nests in the

seaweed to preserve their spawn from the waves.

But the love of the galeus toward her young ones is beyond the

affection and clemency of any the tamest of creatures; for they lay

an egg, which being hatched, they nourish and carry the young about

not outwardly, but within their own bowels, as if they could not breed

their young without a second birth.

When the young ones are somewhat grown, they put them forth again, and

teach them to swim close by themselves, then resume them again through

their mouths into their bellies, and afford them nourishment and safe

retirement in their bodies, till they are able to shift for themselves.

No less admirable is the care of the tortoise, as to the bringing

forth and preserving her young. For she retires out of the sea to lay;

but not being able to stay long upon the land, she hides her eggs in

the sand, covering them over gently with the lightest of the gravel;

and when she has thus sufficiently and assuredly concealed them, some

report that she marks and streaks the place with her feet, that she may

be able to know it again; others affirm that the female, being turned

upon her back upon the sand by the male, leaves her particular marks

and signatures behind her. However it be, this is most wonderful,

that after waiting forty days (for in so many the eggs come to break)

she returns, and knowing where the treasure lies, as well as any man

understands where he hides his gold, she opens them with great joy and

alacrity.

34. Many observations like to these are made of the crocodile. But such

is its skill in choosing a place for breeding, that no man can explain

it by reason or conjecture. Whence it comes that the foreknowledge of

this creature is imputed more to divinity than reason. For neither

farther nor nearer, but just so far as the Nile that year will increase

and cover the land, thither she goes forth and lays her eggs; which the

countrymen finding, are able to tell one another how far the river will

overflow that year. So truly does that animal measure for herself, that

though she live in the water, she may lay her eggs dry. But the young

ones being hatched, whichsoever of them, so soon as they are come to

life, does not seize whatever comes next—either upon a fly, or a worm,

or a straw, or a tuft of grass—with his mouth, the dam presently tears

him to pieces with her teeth. But those that are fierce and active

she loves and cherishes, according to the judgment of the wisest men,

imparting her affection by the rules of judgment, not by the sway of

passion.

The sea-calves also bring forth upon the dry lands; but then fetching

out their young ones by degrees, they give them a taste of the

sea-water, and presently lead them out again; and this they often do,

till custom has made them bold, and brought them to love a sea life.

Frogs when they couple use a certain croaking invitation, which is

commonly called ololygon; and when the male has thus enticed the

female, they abide together all night. For in the water they cannot,

and in the daytime they are afraid to engender upon the land, which in

the night-time they do without control. At other times they croak more

shrill and loud; and this is a sign of rain, and holds among the most

assured prognostics of wet weather.

35. But what absurdity, dearest Neptune, would this passion of mine

lead me into! How ridiculous should I appear, if trifling among

sea-calves and frogs, I should omit one of the marine animals, the

wisest and most beloved by the Gods! For what nightingales are to be

compared with the halcyon for music? or who will presume to prefer the

swallow’s love of offspring, the dove’s love of her mate, or the art

and curiosity of the bees, to those virtues ascribed to the halcyon?

One only island, as history tells us, received and entertained Latona

when she gave birth; which island, floating before, was then made firm

land. But when the halcyon brings forth, about the winter solstice, the

whole ocean remains calm and undisturbed without the wrinkle of a wave.

So that there is not any other creature for which man has so great an

affection, seeing that for her sake for seven days and seven nights

together, in the depth of winter, they sail without fear of shipwreck,

and make their voyages upon the sea with greater safety than they

travel upon the land.

But if it be required that we should make a brief recital of her

particular virtues, she is so great an example of conjugal affection,

that she does not keep company with her mate for a single season, but

for the whole year together, and that not for wantonness (for she never

couples but with her own), but out of affection and friendship, like

a truly virtuous married wife. And when her mate through age becomes

infirm and not able to bear her company, she takes care of him, and

feeds and carries him about in his old age, never forsaking nor leaving

him alone, but taking him upon her shoulders, carries him from place to

place, never abandoning him till death.

As to her affection towards her young ones and care of their

preservation, so soon as she perceives herself near the time of her

bringing forth, she presently betakes herself to the making of her

nest. For the building of which, she neither makes use of mud and

dirt nor props it up with walls and rafters, like the swallows; nor

does she use several members of her body to work with, like the bees,

that employ their whole body to enter the wax and open their cells,

with their six feet fashioning their six-sided apartments. For the

halcyon having but one single instrument, one single tool, which is

her bill, nor any other help to assist her in labor and her care of

her young ones, what a wonderful master-piece of workmanship does

she erect? Insomuch that it is a difficult thing for them that have

not well considered it to believe their eyesight; her workmanship

seeming rather the art of a shipwright than of a common builder; of

all inventions being the only form not to be overwhelmed and washed

by the waves. To this purpose she gathers together the thorns of the

sea-needle—some straight, others oblique, like the woof in the loom—and

twists and binds them where the thread and yarn are interwoven one

within another, till she has framed a nest round and oblong, resembling

the usual fisher-boats. This when she has finished she launches into

the sea, where the waves beating gently upon it direct to reform what

is amiss, by consolidating the loose and ill compacted parts, where the

water has forced any entrance; insomuch that at length she fastens and

strengthens what she has put together in such a manner, that it is not

to be broken or pierced either by stones or steel. Nor is the symmetry

and form of the inside and cavity of the nest less to be admired. For

it is so contrived as only to receive herself; the entrance into it not

being to be found by any other creature, nor can the sea itself find a

way into it. I am apt to believe that there is none of you who never

saw this nest. But for my own part, that have often seen and handled

one of them, I may safely say, that I

In Delos’ temple near Apollo’s shrine,

Something like this, a fabric most divine,

have seen. That is to say, the horned altar, celebrated for one of the

seven wonders of the world, which without the help of parget, glue,

soder, paste, or any other binding, is framed only of horns that grew

on the right side of the head of the beast.

Now may the Deity that is somewhat musical and an islander be

propitious to me, ... while I deride the questions which those scoffers

put,—wherefore Apollo may not be called mullet-shooter, when we find

that Venus is called the mullet-protectrix; for which reason she is

honored with temples adjoining to the sea, and sacred rights; and

certain it is, that she is displeased when any mullet is killed.

Therefore at Leptis the priests of Neptune never eat any thing that

breeds in the sea; and you know the mullet is in great veneration

among the professors of the Eleusinian mysteries; moreover, that

the priestess of Juno at Argos abstains from the same fish; and the

reason is because the mullets kill and destroy the sea-hare, which is

pernicious to man, and therefore they spare those creatures that are

kind and beneficial to him.

36. Then again, we find among many of the Greeks temples and altars

frequently dedicated to Diana Dictynna (so called from δίκτυον, _a

net_) and Delphinian Apollo. And that same place which Apollo has

peculiarly chosen for himself was first of all inhabited by Cretans,

having a dolphin for their leader. For the Deity did not swim before

his army in another shape (as the mythologists dream), but sending a

dolphin to direct them in their course, the dolphin brought them to

Cirrha. Story also tells us that Soteles and Dionysius, who were sent

to Sinope by Ptolemy Soter to fetch from thence Serapis, were driven by

contrary winds beyond Cape Malea, having the Peloponnesus upon their

right hands; while they were thus wandering and out of their course,

a dolphin appeared before the prow of the headmost vessel, and (as

it were) kindly inviting them, conducted them into safe harbors and

roads, till by his good guidance and leading them he at length brought

the whole fleet to Cirrha. There, when they came to offer the usual

sacrifices for their safe landing, they came to understand that, of

two statues which were in the place, they were to take that of Pluto

and carry it along with them; but as for that of Proserpina, they were

only to take the mould and leave the statue itself behind. Probable it

is that the Deity had a kindness for the dolphin, considering how much

he delights in music. For which reason Pindar likens himself to the

dolphin, and confesses himself to be moved in the same manner as that

noble creature,

Which flutes’ beloved sound

Excites to play,

Upon the calm and placid sea.

Though it is very probable that his affection to men is more pleasing

to the Deity, he being the only creature that bears an affection to man

as man. For as for the land animals, some kinds there are that fly him

altogether, and the tamest and most gentle follow him and are familiar

with him, only for the benefit and nourishment which they receive from

him; as the dog, the horse, and elephant. The swallows, by necessity

constrained, build in houses, seeking shade and security, but are no

less afraid of men than of the wild beasts. Only to the dolphin has

Nature bequeathed that excellent quality, so much sought for by the

best of philosophers, to love for no advantage; for that having no

need at all of man, he is a kind friend to all men, and has lent his

assistance to many. There is no man that is ignorant of the famous

story of Arion. And you, my dear friend, have seasonably put us in mind

of Hesiod; but

Thou didst not by a legal course

Rightly conclude thy long discourse.[93]

For when you had spoken so much in praise of the dog, you should not

have passed by the dolphin. For it would have been a blind story of the

dog that barked and flew with violence upon the murderers, had it not

been for the dolphins, that took the carcass of Hesiod, floating in the

sea near Nemeum, and readily receiving it from one another, landed it

at Rhium, whereby the murder came to be known.

Myrtilus the Lesbian writes, that Enalus the Aeolian, being in love

with the daughter of Phineus, who, by the command of the oracle of

Amphitrite was cast into the sea by the Penthilidae, when he understood

it, threw himself also into the sea, but was saved by a dolphin, and

carried to Lesbos.

But the gentleness and kindness of the dolphin towards the lad of Jasus

was so extraordinary that it might be said to amount even to amorous

love. For he played and swam with him in the daytime, and suffered

himself to be handled and bestrid by him; nor did he swim away with

him, but joyfully carried him which way soever the lad by the motion

of his body turned him, while the Iasians flocked from all parts to

the shore to behold the sight. At length the lad, being thrown from

the dolphin’s back by a terrible shower of rain and hail, was drowned.

Which the dolphin perceiving took up the dead youth, and threw himself

upon the land together with the body, from which he never stirred till

he died out of his own element; deeming it but just to partake of that

end of which he seemed to have been the occasion to his friend and

playfellow. Nor can the Iasians forget the accident, but keep it still

in remembrance by the stamp upon their coin, which is a lad upon a

dolphin’s back.

And from hence it was that the fabulous stories of Coeranus gained

credit. He was a Parian by birth, who residing at Byzantium, when a

draught of dolphins caught in a net were exposed to sale and in danger

of slaughter, bought them up all, and put them into the sea again. It

happened not long after that Coeranus took a voyage in a vessel of

fifty oars, carrying, as the story goes, several pirates. But between

Naxos and the Bay of Paros he suffered shipwreck; and when all the rest

were drowned, he alone was taken up by a dolphin that hastened to his

succor, and carried to Sicynthus, and set ashore near the cave which to

this day bears the name of Coeraneum. Upon which Archilochus is said to

have made these lines:

Of fifty men, great Neptune gentle grown

Left courteous Coeranus alive alone.

Some years after Coeranus dying, his relations burnt his body near the

seaside; at what time several dolphins appeared near the shore, as if

they had come to his funeral; nor would they stir till the funeral was

over. Moreover Stesichorus writes that Ulysses bore a dolphin painted

upon his shield; and for what reason the Zacynthian records tell us,

as Critheus testifies. For they say that Telemachus, when he was but

a boy, falling into the sea, was saved by the dolphins that took him

up and set him ashore. And therefore he made use of a dolphin for the

impression of his seal and the ornament of his shield. But having

promised before that I would produce no fabulous stories, and yet being

carried, I know not how, to discourse beyond probability of dolphins

by this repetition of the stories of Coeranus and Ulysses, I will do

justice upon myself by concluding here.

37. ARISTOTIMUS. Now, gentlemen, it lies on your part that are judges,

to pronounce sentence.

SOCLARUS. Assuredly then, for our parts, we shall give the same

judgment in this, as Sophocles did in another case:

Discourse upon discording arguments

Is then determined best, when what was said

Is duly weighed and stated on both sides.

For thus comparing what you have both discoursed one against another,

it will be found that you have acquitted yourselves on both sides like

true champions against those that would deprive brute animals of sense

and understanding.