Many a Bragging Coxcomb is Ruin’d by a Mistake of Fear in an Enemy, and a
Fancy of Courage in Himself. _Baudoin_ Remarks upon the _Lyon’s_ Aversion
to the _Cock_, that there’s Nothing so Great but it has its Failings,
and so he makes the Pursuit of the _Lyon_ to be a Particular Mark of the
_Ass’s_ Weakness. _Meslier_ will have the Fear to be Counterfeited, with
a Design to Surprize the Pursuer; but This Fable seems still to look
Another way.
It may appear a very Extravagant, Surprizing Encounter, that _Æsop_
has Exhibited to us in This Fable. Here’s a _Lyon_ running away from a
_Cock_, and an _Ass_ Pursuing a _Lyon_: That is to say, here are Two of
the most Unlikely Things in Nature brought together, in the Semblance of
Fear in the One, and of Resolution in the Other: But the Moral is never
the Worse yet for the Seeming Disproportions of the Figure; and the
Characters in the Fiction, are well enough Suited to the Truth, and Life
of the Case. The Flight of the _Lyon_ must be Imputed here to the Natural
Aversion that he has to the Crowing of a _Cock_. This is the Tradition;
but it shall break No Squares whether it be so or not: For the Philosophy
holds good in Other Instances No less Wonderful, whether it be True or
False in This. How many Insuperable Disagreements do we Meet with, in
the Bus’ness of Meats, Drinks, and Medicines; in Plants, Minerals, and
Living Creatures! Now These Impulses are no more to be Controll’d, then
the Primary, and the Unchangeable Powers and Laws of Nature: And These
Instincts, after All, are no more to be Reason’d upon, then they are to
be Resisted; and therefore it is, that we call them _Occult Qualities_;
which is All One with Saying that we do not Understand How they Work,
or What they Are. Now ’tis One Thing to Submit to an _Absolute Force_,
Another Thing to Fly, and Yield to a _Natural Infirmity_: So that ’tis No
Departure from the Dignity of a _Lyon_ to Fly, when Nature Drives him:
Neither is it at all to the _Ass_’s Reputation, to Pursue, when Vanity,
Folly and Rashness Transport him.
The _Ass_, we see, lies under Many Mistakes here, and the More, and the
Grosser they are, the more Suitable still to his Character. How many such
_Asses_ are there in the World, that Huff, Look Big, Stare, Dress, Cock,
Swagger, at the same Noisy, Blustring Rate; and Nothing more Familiar
then for a Whiffling Fop, that has not so much as One Grain of the Sense,
or Soul of a Man of Honour in him, to play the part of a _Hero_. Nay,
there are _Fanfarons_ in the Tryals of Wit too, as well as in Feats of
Arms, and none so forward to engage in Argument, or Discourse, as Those
that are least able to go through with it. In One Word for All, the
whole Race of Bawling, Fluttering Noddyes, by what Name or Title soever
Dignify’d or Distinguish’d, are a Kin to the _Ass_ in This Fable.