THE EAGLE THAT CAUGHT THE CAT.--DR. FRANKLIN'S ENGLISH FABLE.--THE
DOCTOR'S SQUIRRELS.
WHEN Dr. Franklin was abroad the first time after the misadventure with
Governor Keith, and was an agent of the colonies, his fame as a
scientist gave him a place in the highest intellectual circles of
England, and among his friends were several clergymen of the English
Church and certain noblemen of eminent force and character.
When in 1775, while he was again the colonial agent, the events in
America became exciting, his position as the representative American in
England compelled him to face the rising tide against his country. He
was now sixty-nine years of age. He was personally popular, although the
king came to regard him with disfavor, and once called him that
"insidious man." But he never failed, at any cost of personal
reputation, to defend the American cause.
His good humor never forsook him, and the droll, quaint wisdom that had
appeared in Poor Richard was turned to good account in the advocacy of
the rights of the American colonies.
One evening he dined at the house of a nobleman. It was in the year of
the Concord fight, when political events in America were hurrying and
were exciting all minds in both countries.
They talked of literature at the party, but the political situation was
uppermost in the minds of all.
A gentleman was present whose literary mind made him very interesting to
such circles.
"The art of the illustration of the principles of life in fable," he
said, "is exhausted. AEsop, La Fontaine, Gay, and others have left
nothing further to be produced in parable teaching."
The view was entertaining. He added:
"There is not left a bird, animal, or fish that could be made the
subject of any original fable."
Dr. Franklin seemed to be very thoughtful for a time.
"What is your opinion, doctor?" asked the literary gentleman.
"You are wrong, sir. The opportunity to produce fables is limitless.
Almost every event offers the fabric of a fable."
"Could you write a fable on any of the events of the present time?"
asked the lord curiously.
"If you will order pen and ink and paper, I will give you a picture of
the times in fable. A fable comes to me now."
The lord ordered the writing material.
What new animals or birds had taken possession of Franklin's fancy? No
new animals or birds, but old ones in new relations.
Franklin wrote out his fable and proceeded to read it. It was a short
one, but the effect was direct and surprising. The lord's face must
have changed when he listened to it, for it was a time when such things
struck to the heart.
The fable not only showed Dr. Franklin's invention, but his courage. It
was as follows: "Once upon a time an eagle, scaling round a farmer's
barn and espying a hare, darted down upon him like a sunbeam, seized him
in his claws, and remounted with him to the air. He soon found that he
had a creature of more courage and strength than a hare, for which,
notwithstanding the keenness of his eyesight, he had mistaken a cat.
"The snarling and scrambling of his prey were very inconvenient, and,
what was worse, she had disengaged herself from his talons, grasped his
body with her four limbs, so as to stop his breath, and seized fast hold
of his throat with her teeth.
"'Pray,' said the eagle, 'let go your hold, and I will release you.'
"'Very fine,' said the cat; 'I have no fancy to fall from this height
and be crushed to death. You have taken me up, and you shall stoop and
let me down.' The eagle thought it necessary to stoop accordingly."
The eagle, of course, represented England, and the cat America.
Dr. Franklin was a lover of little children and animals--among pet
animals, of the American squirrel.
When he returned to England the second time as an agent of the colonies,
he wished to make some presents to his English friends who had families.
He liked not only to please children, but to give them those things
which would delight them. So he took over to England for presents a cage
full of pranky little squirrels.
Among the families of children whom he loved was Dr. Shipley's, the
bishop, who had a delightful little daughter, and to her the great Dr.
Franklin, who was believed to command the visible heavens, made a
present of a cunning American squirrel.
The girl came to love the pet. It was a truly American squirrel; it
sought liberty. Franklin called it Mungo.
The girl seems to have given the little creature his will, and let him
sometimes go free among the oaks and hedgerows of the fair, green land.
But one day it was caught by a dog or cat, or some other animal, and
killed. His liberty proved his ruin. Poor Mungo!
There was sorrow in the bishop's home over the loss of the pet, and the
poor little girl sought consolation from the philosopher.
But, philosopher that he was, he could not recall to life the little
martyr to liberty. So he did about all that can be done in like cases:
he wrote for her an epitaph for her pet, setting forth its misfortunes,
and giving it a charitable history, which must have been very consoling.
He did not indulge in any frivolous rhymes, but used the stately rhythms
that befit a very solemn event.
There is a perfect picture of the mother heart of Franklin in this
little story. The world has ever asked why this man was so liked. The
answer may be read here: A sympathy, guided by principle, that often
found expression in humor.
As in the case of good old Sam Adams, the children followed him.
Blessed are those whom mothers and children love. It is the heart that
has power. A touch of sympathy outlives tales of achievements of power,
as in the story of Ulysses's dog. It is he who sympathizes the most with
mankind that longest lives in human affections.
A man's character may be known by the poet that the man seeks as his
interpreter. Franklin's favorite poet as he grew old was Cowper. In all
his duties of life he never lost that heart charm, the _grandfather_
charm; it was active now when children still made his old age happy.
How queerly he must have looked in England with his cage of little
squirrels and the children following him in some good bishop's garden!