A philosopher looking up from the pages of the Zend-Avesta, upon which
he had been centring his soul, beheld a pig violently assailing a
cauldron of cold slops.
"Heaven bless us!" said the sage; "for unalloyed delight give me a
good honest article of Sensuality. So soon as my 'Essay upon the
Correlation of Mind-forces' shall have brought me fame and fortune, I
hope to abjure the higher faculties, devoting the remainder of my life
to the cultivation of the propensities."
"Allah be praised!" soliloquized the pig, "there is nothing so godlike
as Intellect, and nothing so ecstatic as intellectual pursuits. I must
hasten to perform this gross material function, that I may retire to
my wallow and resign my soul to philosophical meditation."
This tale has one moral if you are a philosopher, and another if you
are a pig.