<p>Presumption is our natural and original disease. The most wretched and
frail of all creatures is man, and withal the proudest. He feels and sees
himself lodged here in the dirt and filth of the world, nailed and
rivetted to the worst and deadest part of the universe, in the lowest
story of the house, the most remote from the heavenly arch, with animals
of the worst condition of the three; and yet in his imagination will be
placing himself above the circle of the moon, and bringing the heavens
under his feet. 'Tis by the same vanity of imagination that he equals
himself to God, attributes to himself divine qualities, withdraws and
separates himself from the the crowd of other creatures, cuts out the
shares of the animals, his fellows and companions, and distributes to them
portions of faculties and force, as himself thinks fit How does he know,
by the strength of his understanding, the secret and internal motions of
animals?—from what comparison betwixt them and us does he conclude
the stupidity he attributes to them? When I play with my cat who knows
whether I do not make her more sport than she makes me? We mutually divert
one another with our play. If I have my hour to begin or to refus, she
also has hers. Plato, in his picture of the golden age under Saturn,
reckons, among the chief advantages that a man then had, his communication
with beasts, of whom, inquiring and informing himself, he knew the true
qualities and differences of them all, by which he acquired a very perfect
intelligence and prudence, and led his life more happily than we could do.
Need we a better proof to condemn human impudence in the concern of
beasts? This great author was of opinion that nature, for the most part in
the corporal form she gave them, had only regard to the use of prognostics
that were derived thence in his time. The defect that hinders
communication betwixt them and us, why may it not be in our part as well
as theirs? 'Tis yet to determine where the fault lies that we understand
not one another,—for we understand them no more than they do us; and
by the same reason they may think us to be beasts as we think them. 'Tis
no great wonder if we understand not them, when we do not understand a
Basque or a Troglodyte. And yet some have boasted that they understood
them, as Apollonius Tyanaus, Melampus, Tiresias, Thales, and others. And
seeing, as cusmographers report, that there are nations that have a dog
for their king, they must of necessity be able to interpret his voice and
motions. We must observe the parity betwixt us, have some tolerable
apprehension of their meaning, and so have beasts of ours,—much
about the same. They caress us, threaten us, and beg of us, and we do the
same to them.</p>
<p>As to the rest, we manifestly discover that they have a full and absolute
communication amongst themselves, and that they perfectly understand one
another, not only those of the same, but of divers kinds:</p>
<p>"The tamer herds, and wilder sort of brutes.<br/>
Though we of higher race conclude them mutes.<br/>
Yet utter dissonant and various notes,<br/>
From gentler lungs or more distended throats,<br/>
As fear, or grief, or anger, do them move,<br/>
Or as they do approach the joys of love."<br/></p>
<p>In one kind of barking of a dog the horse knows there is anger, of another
sort of bark he is not afraid. Even in the very beasts that have no voice
at all, we easily conclude, from the society of offices we observe amongst
them, some other sort of communication: their very motions discover it:</p>
<p>"As infants who, for want of words, devise<br/>
Expressive motions with their hands and eyes."<br/></p>
<p>And why not, as well as our dumb people, dispute, argue, and tell stories
by signs? Of whom I have seen some, by practice, so clever and active that
way that, in fact, they wanted nothing of the perfection of making
themselves understood. Lovers are angry, reconciled, intreat, thank,
appoint, and, in short, speak all things by their eyes:</p>
<p>"Even silence in a lover<br/>
Love and passion can discover."<br/></p>
<p>What with the hands? We require, promise, call, dismiss, threaten, pray,
supplicate, deny, refuse, interrogate, admire, number, confess, repent,
fear, express confusion, doubt, instruct, command, incite, encourage,
swear, testify, accuse, condemn, absolve, abuse, despise, defy, provoke,
flatter, applaud, bless, submit, mock, reconcile, recommend, exalt,
entertain, congratulate, complain, grieve, despair, wonder, exclaim, and
what not! And all this with a variety and multiplication, even emulating
speech. With the head we invite, remand, confess, deny, give the lie,
welcome, honour, reverence, disdain, demand, rejoice, lament, reject,
caress, rebuke, submit, huff, encourage, threaten, assure, and inquire.
What with the eyebrows?—what with the shoulders! There is not a
motion that does not speak, and in an intelligible language without
discipline, and a public language that every one understands: whence it
should follow, the variety and use distinguished from others considered,
that these should rather be judged the property of human nature. I omit
what necessity particularly does suddenly suggest to those who are in
need;—the alphabets upon the fingers, grammars in gesture, and the
sciences which are only by them exercised and expressed; and the nations
that Pliny reports have no other language. An ambassador of the city of
Abdera, after a long conference with Agis, King of Sparta, demanded of
him, "Well, sir, what answer must I return to my fellow-citizens?" "That I
have given thee leave," said he, "to say what thou wouldest, and as much
as thou wouldest, without ever speaking a word." is not this a silent
speaking, and very easy to be understood?</p>
<p>As to the rest, what is there in us that we do not see in the operations
of animals? Is there a polity better ordered, the offices better
distributed, and more inviolably observed and maintained, than that of
bees? Can we imagine that such, and so regular, a distribution of
employments can be carried on without reasoning and deliberation?</p>
<p>"Hence to the bee some sages have assign'd<br/>
Some portion of the god and heavenly wind."<br/></p>
<p>The swallows that we see at the return of the spring, searching all the
corners of our houses for the most commodious places wherein to build
their nest; do they seek without judgment, and amongst a thousand choose
out the most proper for their purpose, without discretion? And in that
elegant and admirable contexture of their buildings, can birds rather make
choice of a square figure than a round, of an obtuse than of a right
angle, without knowing their properties and effects? Do they bring water,
and then clay, without knowing that the hardness of the latter grows
softer by being wetted? Do they mat their palace with moss or down without
foreseeing that their tender young will lie more safe and easy? Do they
secure themselves from the wet and rainy winds, and place their lodgings
against the east, without knowing the different qualities of the winds,
and considering that one is more wholesome than another? Why does the
spider make her web tighter in one place, and slacker in another; why now
make one sort of knot, and then another, if she has not deliberation,
thought, and conclusion? We sufficiently discover in most of their works
how much animals excel us, and how unable our art is to imitate them. We
see, nevertheless, in our rougher performances, that we employ all our
faculties, and apply the utmost power of our souls; why do we not conclude
the same of them?</p>
<p>Why should we attribute to I know not what natural and servile inclination
the works that excel all we can do by nature and art? wherein, without
being aware, we give them a mighty advantage over us in making nature,
with maternal gentleness and love, accompany and learn them, as it were,
by the hand to all the actions and commodities of their life, whilst she
leaves us to chance and fortune, and to seek out by art the things that
are necessary to our conservation, at the same time denying us the means
of being able, by any instruction or effort of understanding, to arrive at
the natural sufficiency of beasts; so that their brutish stupidity
surpasses, in all conveniences, all that our divine intelligence can do.
Really, at this rate, we might with great reason call her an unjust
stepmother: but it is nothing so, our polity is not so irregular and
unformed.</p>
<p>Nature has universally cared for all her creatures, and there is not one
she has not amply furnished with all means necessary for the conservation
of its being. For the common complaints I hear men make (as the license of
their opinions one while lifts them up above the clouds, and then again
depresses them to the antipodes), that we are the only animal abandoned
naked upon the bare earth, tied and bound, not having wherewithal to arm
and clothe us but by the spoil of others; whereas nature has covered all
other creatures either with shells, husks, bark, hair, wool, prickles,
leather, down, feathers, scales, or silk, according to the necessities of
their being; has armed them with talons, teeth, or horns, wherewith to
assault and defend, and has herself taught them that which is most proper
for them, to swim, to run, to fly, and sing, whereas man neither knows how
to walk, speak, eat, or do any thing but weep, without teaching;</p>
<p>"Like to the wretched mariner, when toss'd<br/>
By raging seas upon the desert coast,<br/>
The tender babe lies naked on the earth,<br/>
Of all supports of life stript by his birth;<br/>
When nature first presents him to the day,<br/>
Freed from the cell wherein before he lay,<br/>
He fills the ambient air with doleful cries.<br/>
Foretelling thus life's future miseries;<br/>
But beasts, both wild and tame, greater and less,<br/>
Do of themselves in strength and bulk increase;<br/>
They need no rattle, nor the broken chat,<br/>
Ay which the nurse first teaches boys to prate<br/>
They look not out for different robes to wear,<br/>
According to the seasons of the year;<br/>
And need no arms nor walls their goods to save,<br/>
Since earth and liberal nature ever have,<br/>
And will, in all abundance, still produce<br/>
All things whereof they can have need or use:"<br/></p>
<p>these complaints are false; there is in the polity of the world a greater
equality and more uniform relation. Our skins are as sufficient to defend
us from the injuries of the weather as theirs are; witness several nations
that yet know not the use of clothes. Our ancient Gauls were but slenderly
clad, any more than the Irish, our neighbours, though in so cold a
climate; but we may better judge of this by ourselves: for all those parts
that we are pleased to expose to the air are found very able to endure it:
the face, the feet, the hands, the arms, the head, according to the
various habit; if there be a tender part about us, and that would seem to
be in danger from cold, it should be the stomach where the digestion is;
and yet our forefathers were there always open, and our ladies, as tender
and delicate as they are, go sometimes half-bare as low as the navel.
Neither is the binding or swathing of infants any more necessary; and the
Lacedmoman mothers brought theirs in all liberty of motion of members,
without any ligature at all. Our crying is common with the greatest part
of other animals, and there are but few creatures that are not observed to
groan, and bemoan themselves a long time after they come into the world;
forasmuch as it is a behaviour suitable to the weakness wherein they find
themselves. As to the custom of eating, it is in us, as in them, natural,
and without instruction;</p>
<p>"For every one soon finds his natural force.<br/>
Which he, or better may employ, or worse."<br/></p>
<p>Who doubts but an infant, arrived to the strength of feeding himself, may
make shift to find something to eat And the earth produces and offers him
wherewithal to supply his necessity, without other culture and artifice;
and if not at all times, no more does she do it to beasts, witness the
provision we see ants and other creatures hoard up against the dead
seasons of the year. The late discovered nations, so abundantly furnished
with natural meat and drink, without care, or without cookery, may give us
to understand that bread is not our only food, and that, without tillage,
our mother nature has provided us sufficiently of all we stand in need of:
nay, it appears more fully and plentifully than she does at present, now
that we have added our own industry:</p>
<p>"The earth did first spontaneously afford<br/>
Choice fruits and wines to furnish out the board;<br/>
With herbs and flow'rs unsown in verdant fields.<br/>
But scarce by art so good a harvest yields;<br/>
Though men and oxen mutually have strove,<br/>
With all their utmost force the soil t' improve,"<br/></p>
<p>the debauchery and irregularity of our appetites outstrips all the
inventions we can contrive to satisfy it.</p>
<p>As to arms, we have more natural ones than than most other animals more
various motions of limbs, and naturally and without lesson extract more
service from them. Those that are trained to fight naked are seen to throw
themselves into the like hazards that we do. If some beasts surpass us in
this advantage, we surpass many others. And the industry of fortifying the
body, and covering it by acquired means, we have by instinct and natural
precept? That it is so, the elephant shows who sharpen, and whets the
teeth he makes use of in war (for he has particular ones for that service,
which he spares, and never employs them at all to any other use); when
bulls go to fight, they toss and throw the dust about them; boars whet
their tusks; and the ichneumon, when he is about to engage with the
crocodile, fortifies his body, and covers and crusts it all over with
close-wrought and well-tempered slime, as with a cuirass. Why shall we not
say that it is also natural for us to arm ourselves with wood and iron?</p>
<p>As to speech, it is certain that if it be not natural it is not necessary.
Nevertheless I believe that a child which had been brought up in an
absolute solitude, remote from all society of men (which would be an
experiment very hard to make), would have some kind of speech to express
his meaning by. And 'tis not to be supposed that nature should have denied
that to us which she has given to several other animals: for what is this
faculty we observe in them, of complaining, rejoicing, calling to one
another for succour, and inviting each other to love, which they do with
the voice, other than speech? And why should they not speak to one
another? They speak to us, and we to them. In how many several sorts of
ways do we speak to our dogs, and they answer us? We converse with them in
another sort of language, and use other appellations, than we do with
birds, hogs, oxen, horses, and alter the idiom according to the kind.</p>
<p>"Thus from one swarm of ants some sally out.<br/>
To spy another's stock or mark its rout."<br/></p>
<p>Lactantius seems to attribute to beasts not only speech, but laughter
also. And the difference of language which is seen amongst us, according
to the difference of countries, is also observed in animals of the same
kind. Aristotle, in proof of this, instances the Various calls of
partridges, according to the situation of places:</p>
<p>"And various birds do from their warbling throats<br/>
At various times, utter quite different notes,<br/>
And some their hoarse songs with the seasons change."<br/></p>
<p>But it is yet to be known what language this child would speak; and of
that what is said by guess has no great appearance. If a man will allege
to me, in opposition to this opinion, that those who are naturally deaf
speak not, I answer that this is not only because they could not receive
the instruction of speaking by ear, but rather because the sense of
hearing, of which they are deprived, relates to that of speaking, and that
these hold together by a natural and inseparable tie, in such manner that
what we speak we must first speak to ourselves within, and make it sound
in our own ears, before we can utter it to others.</p>
<p>All this I have said to prove the resemblance there is in human things,
and to bring us back and join us to the crowd. We are neither above nor
below the rest All that is under heaven, says the sage, runs one law and
one fortune:</p>
<p>"All things remain<br/>
Bound and entangled in one fatal chain."<br/></p>
<p>There is, indeed, some difference,—there are several orders and
degrees; but it is under the aspect of one and the same nature:</p>
<p>"All things by their own rites proceed, and draw<br/>
Towards their ends, by nature's certain law."<br/></p>
<p>Man must be compelled and restrained within the bounds of this polity.
Miserable creature! he is not in a condition really to step over the rail.
He is fettered and circumscribed, he is subjected to the same necessity
that the other creatures of his rank and order are, and of a very mean
condition, without any prerogative of true and real pre-eminence. That
which he attributes to himself, by vain fancy and opinion, has neither
body nor taste. And if it be so, that he only, of all the animals, has
this liberty of imagination and irregularity of thoughts, representing to
him that which is, that which is not, and that he would have, the false
and the true, 'tis an advantage dearly bought, and of which he has very
little reason to be proud; for thence springs the principal and original
fountain of all the evils that befal him,—sin, sickness,
irresolution, affliction, despair. I say, then, to return to my subject,
that there is no appearance to induce a man to believe that beasts should,
by a natural and forced inclination, do the same things that we do by our
choice and industry. We ought from like effects to conclude like
faculties, and from greater effects greater faculties; and consequently
confess that the same reasoning, and the same ways by which we operate,
are common with them, or that they have others that are better. Why should
we imagine this natural constraint in them, who experience no such effect
in ourselves? added that it is more honourable to be guided and obliged to
act regularly by a natural and inevitable condition, and nearer allied to
the divinity, than to act regularly by a temerarious and fortuitous
liberty, and more safe to entrust the reins of our conduct in the hands of
nature than our own. The vanity of our presumption makes us prefer rather
to owe our sufficiency to our own exertions than to her bounty, and to
enrich the other animals with natural goods, and abjure them in their
favour, in order to honour and ennoble ourselves with goods acquired, very
foolishly in my opinion; for I should as much value parts and virtues
naturally and purely my own as those I had begged and obtained from
education. It is not in our power to obtain a nobler reputation than to be
favoured of God and nature.</p>
<p>For instance, take the fox, the people of Thrace make use of when they
wish to pass over the ice of some frozen river, and turn him out before
them to that purpose; when we see him lay his ear upon the bank of the
river, down to the ice, to listen if from a more remote or nearer distance
he can hear the noise of the waters' current, and, according as he finds
by that the ice to be of a less or greater thickness, to retire or
advance,—have we not reason to believe thence that the same rational
thoughts passed through his head that we should have upon the like
occasions; and that it is a ratiocination and consequence, drawn from
natural sense, that that which makes a noise runs, that which runs is not
frozen, what is not frozen is liquid, and that which is liquid yields to
impression! For to attribute this to a mere quickness of the sense of
hearing, without reason and consequence, is a chimra that cannot enter
into the imagination. We are to suppose the same of the many sorts of
subtleties and inventions with which beasts secure themselves from, and
frustrate, the enterprizes we plot against them.</p>
<p>And if we will make an advantage even of this, that it is in our power to
seize them, to employ them in our service, and to use them at our
pleasure, 'tis still but the same advantage we have over one another. We
have our slaves upon these terms: the Climacid, were they not women in
Syria who, squat on all fours, served for a ladder or footstool, by which
the ladies mounted their coaches? And the greatest part of free persons
surrender, for very trivial conveniences, their life and being into the
power of another. The wives and concubines of the Thracians contended who
should be chosen to be slain upon their husband's tomb. Have tyrants ever
failed of finding men enough vowed to their devotion? some of them
moreover adding this necessity, of accompanying them in death as well as
life? Whole armies have bound themselves after this manner to their
captains. The form of the oath in the rude school of gladiators was in
these words: "We swear to suffer ourselves to be chained, burnt, wounded,
and killed with the sword, and to endure all that true gladiators suffer
from their master, religiously engaging both body and soul in his
service."</p>
<p>Uire meum, si vis, flamma caput, et pete ferro<br/>
Corpus, et iutorto verbere terga seca.<br/>
<br/>
"Wound me with steel, or burn my head with fire.<br/>
Or scourge my shoulders with well-twisted wire."<br/></p>
<p>This was an obligation indeed, and yet there, in one year, ten thousand
entered into it, to their destruction. When the Scythians interred their
king they strangled upon his body the most beloved of his concubines, his
cup-bearer, the master of his horse, his chamberlain, the usher of his
chamber, and his cook. And upon the anniversary thereof they killed fifty
horses, mounted by fifty pages, that they had impaled all up the spine of
the back to the throat, and there left them fixed in triumph about his
tomb. The men that serve us do it cheaper, and for a less careful and
favourable usage than what we treat our hawks, horses and dogs withal. To
what solicitude do we not submit for the conveniences of these? I do not
think that servants of the most abject condition would willingly do that
for their masters that princes think it an honour to do for their beasts.
Diogenes seeing his relations solicitous to redeem, him from servitude:
"They are fools," said he; "'tis he that keeps and nourishes me that in
reality serves me." And they who entertain beasts ought rather to be said
to serve them, than to be served by them. And withal in this these have
something more generous in that one lion never submitted to another lion,
nor one horse to another, for want of courage. As we go to the chase of
beasts, so do tigers and lions to the chase of men, and do the same
execution upon one another; dogs upon hares, pikes upon tench, swallows
upon grass-hoppers, and sparrow-hawks upon blackbirds and larks:</p>
<p>"The stork with snakes and lizards from the wood<br/>
And pathless wilds supports her callow brood,<br/>
While Jove's own eagle, bird of noble blood,<br/>
Scours the wide country for undaunted food;<br/>
Sweeps the swift hare or swifter fawn away,<br/>
And feeds her nestlings with the generous prey."<br/></p>
<p>We divide the quarry, as well as the pains and labour of the chase, with
our hawks and hounds. And about Amphipolis, in Thrace, the hawkers and
wild falcons equally divide the prey in the half. As also along the lake
Motis, if the fisherman does not honestly leave the wolves an equal share
of what he has caught, they presently go and tear his nets in pieces. And
as we have a way of sporting that is carried on more by subtlety than
force, as springing hares, and angling with line and hook, there is also
the like amongst other animals. Aristotle says that the cuttle-fish casts
a gut out of her throat as long as a line, which she extends and draws
back at pleasure; and as she perceives some little fish approach her she
lets it nibble upon the end of this gut, lying herself concealed in the
sand or mud, and by little and little draws it in, till the little fish is
so near her that at one spring she may catch it.</p>
<p>As to strength, there is no creature in the world exposed to so many
injuries as man. We need not a whale, elephant, or a crocodile, nor any
such-like animals, of which one alone is sufficient to dispatch a great
number of men, to do our business; lice are sufficient to vacate Sylla's
dictatorship; and the heart and life of a great and triumphant emperor is
the breakfast of a little contemptible worm!</p>
<p>Why should we say that it is only for man, or knowledge built up by art
and meditation, to distinguish the things useful for his being, and proper
for the cure of his diseases, and those which are not; to know the virtues
of rhubarb and polypody. When we see the goats of Candia, when wounded
with an arrow, among a million of plants choose out dittany for their
cure; and the tortoise, when she has eaten a viper, immediately go out to
look for origanum to purge her; the dragon to rub and clear his eyes with
fennel; the storks to give themselves clysters of sea-water; the elephants
to draw not only out of their own bodies, and those of their companions,
but out of the bodies of their masters too (witness the elephant of King
Porus whom Alexander defeated), the darts and javelins thrown at them in
battle, and that so dexterously that we ourselves could not do it with so
little pain to the patient;—why do we not say here also that this is
knowledge and reason? For to allege, to their disparagement, that 'tis by
the sole instruction and dictate of nature that they know all this, is not
to take from them the dignity of knowledge and reason, but with greater
force to attribute it to them than to us, for the honour of so infallible
a mistress. Chrysippus, though in other things as scornful a judge of the
condition of animals as any other philosopher whatever, considering the
motions of a dog, who coming to a place where three ways met, either to
hunt after his master he has lost, or in pursuit of some game that flies
before him, goes snuffing first in one of the ways, and then in another,
and, after having made himself sure of two, without finding the trace of
what he seeks, dashes into the third without examination, is forced to
confess that this reasoning is in the dog: "I have traced my master to
this place; he must of necessity be gone one of these three ways; he is
not gone this way nor that, he must then infallibly be gone this other;"
and that assuring himself by this conclusion, he makes no use of his nose
in the third way, nor ever lays it to the ground, but suffers himself to
be carried on there bv the force of reason. This sally, purely logical,
and this use of propositions divided and conjoined, and the right
enumeration of parts, is it not every whit as good that the dog knows all
this of himself as well as from Trapezuntius?</p>
<p>Animals are not incapable, however, of being instructed after our method.
We teach blackbirds, ravens, pies, and parrots, to speak: and the facility
wherewith we see they lend us their voices, and render both them and their
breath so supple and pliant, to be formed and confined within a certain
number of letters and syllables, does evince that they have a reason
within, which renders them so docile and willing to learn. Everybody, I
believe, is glutted with the several sorts of tricks that tumblers teach
their dogs; the dances, where they do not miss any one cadence of the
sound they hear; the several various motions and leaps they make them
perform by the command of a word. But I observe this effect with the
greatest admiration, which nevertheless is very common, in the dogs that
lead the blind, both in the country and in cities: I have taken notice how
they stop at certain doors, where they are wont to receive alms; how they
avoid the encounter of coaches and carts, even there where they have
sufficient room to pass; I have seen them, by the trench of a town,
forsake a plain and even path and take a worse, only to keep their masters
further from the ditch;—how could a man have made this dog
understand that it was his office to look to his master's safely only, and
to despise his own conveniency to serve him? And how had he the knowledge
that a way was wide enough for him that was not so for a blind man? Can
all this be apprehended without ratiocination!</p>
<p>I must not omit what Plutarch says he saw of a dog at Rome with the
Emperor Vespasian, the father, at the theatre of Marcellus. This dog
served a player, that played a farce of several parts and personages, and
had therein his part. He had, amongst other things, to counterfeit himself
for some time dead, by reason of a certain drug he was supposed to eat
After he had swallowed a piece of bread, which passed for the drug, he
began after awhile to tremble and stagger, as if he was taken giddy: at
last, stretching himself out stiff, as if dead, he suffered himself to be
drawn and dragged from place to place, as it was his part to do; and
afterward, when he knew it to be time, he began first gently to stir, as
if awaking out of a profound sleep, and lifting up his head looked about
him after such a manner as astonished all the spectators.</p>
<p>The oxen that served in the royal gardens of Susa, to water them, and turn
certain great wheels to draw water for that purpose, to which buckets were
fastened (such as there are many in Languedoc), being ordered every one to
draw a hundred turns a day, they were so accustomed to this number that it
was impossible by any force to make them draw one turn more; but, their
task being performed, they would suddenly stop and stand still. We are
almost men before we can count a hundred, and have lately discovered
nations that have no knowledge of numbers at all.</p>
<p>There is more understanding required in the teaching of' others than in
being taught. Now, setting aside what Democritus held and proved, "That
most of the arts we have were taught us by other animals," as by the
spider to weave and sew; by the swallow to build; by the swan and
nightingale music; and by several animals to make medicines:—Aristotle
is of opinion "That the nightingales teach their young ones to sing, and
spend a great deal of time and care in it;" whence it happens that those
we bring up in cages, and which have not had the time to learn of their
parents, want much of the grace of their singing: we may judge by this
that they improve by discipline and study; and, even amongst the wild, it
is not all and every one alike—every one has learnt to do better or
worse, according to their capacity. And so jealous are they one of
another, whilst learning, that they contention with emulation, and by so
vigorous a contention that sometimes the vanquished fall dead upon the
place, the breath rather failing than the voice. The younger ruminate
pensively and begin to mutter some broken notes; the disciple listens to
the master's lesson, and gives the best account he is able; they are
silent oy turns; one may hear faults corrected and observe some
reprehensions of the teacher. " have formerly seen," says Arrian, "an
elephant having a cymbal hung at each leg, and another fastened to his
trunk, at the sound of which all the others danced round about him, rising
and bending at certain cadences, as they were guided by the instrument;
and 'twas delightful to hear this harmony." In the spectacles of Rome
there were ordinarily seen elephants taught to move and dance to the sound
of the voice, dances wherein were several changes and cadences very hard
to learn. And some have been known so intent upon their lesson as
privately to practice it by themselves, that they might not be chidden nor
beaten by their masters.</p>
<p>But this other story of the pie, of which we have Plutarch himself for a
warrant, is very strange. She lived in a barber's shop at Rome, and did
wonders in imitating with her voice whatever she heard. It happened one
day that certain trumpeters stood a good while sounding before the shop.
After that, and all the next day, the pie was pensive, dumb, and
melancholic; which every body wondered at, and thought the noise of the
trumpets had so stupified and astonished her that her voice was gone with
her hearing. But they found at last that it was a profound meditation and
a retiring into herself, her thoughts exercising and preparing her voice
to imitate the sound of those trumpets, so that the first voice she
uttered was perfectly to imitate their strains, stops, and changes; having
by this new lesson quitted and taken in disdain all she had learned
before.</p>
<p>I will not omit this other example of a dog, also, which the same Plutarch
(I am sadly confounding all order, but I do not propose arrangement here
any more than elsewhere throughout my book) which Plutarch says he saw on
board a ship. This dog being puzzled how to get the oil that was in the
bottom of a jar, which he could not reach with his tongue by reason of the
narrow mouth of the vessel, went and fetched stones and let them fall into
the jar till he made the oil rise so high that he could reach it. What is
this but an effect of a very subtle capacity! 'Tis said that the ravens of
Barbary do the same, when the water they would drink is too low. This
action is somewhat akin to what Juba, a king of their nation relates of
the elephants: "That when, by the craft of the hunter, one of them is
trapped in certain deep pits prepared for them, and covered over with
brush to deceive them, all the rest, in great diligence, bring a great
many stones and logs of wood to raise the bottom so that he may get out."
But this animal, in several other effects, comes so near to human capacity
that, should I particularly relate all that experience hath delivered to
us, I should easily have what I usually maintain granted: namely, that
there is more difference betwixt such and such a man than betwixt such a
beast and such a man. The keeper of an elephant in a private house of
Syria robbed him every meal of the half of his allowance. One day his
master would himself feed him, and poured the full measure of barley he
had ordered for his allowance into his manger which the elephant, casting
an angry look at the keeper, with his trunk separated the one-half from
the other, and thrust it aside, by that declaring the wrong was done him.
And another, having a keeper that mixed stones with his corn to make up
the measure, came to the pot where he was boiling meat for his own dinner,
and filled it with ashes. These are particular effects: but that which all
the world has seen, and all the world knows, that in all the armies of the
Levant one of the greatest force consisted in elephants, with whom they
did, without comparison, much greater execution than we now do with our
artillery; which takes, pretty nearly, their place in a day of battle (as
may easily be supposed by such as are well read in ancient history);</p>
<p>"The sires of these huge animals were wont<br/>
The Carthaginian Hannibal to mount;<br/>
Our leaders also did these beasts bestride,<br/>
And mounted thus Pyrrhus his foes defied;<br/>
Nay, more, upon their backs they used to bear<br/>
Castles with armed cohorts to the war."<br/></p>
<p>They must necessarily have very confidently relied upon the fidelity and
understanding of these beasts when they entrusted them with the vanguard
of a battle, where the least stop they should have made, by reason of the
bulk and heaviness of their bodies, and the least fright that should have
made them face about upon their own people, had been enough to spoil all:
and there are but few examples where it has happened that they have fallen
foul upon their own troops, whereas we ourselves break into our own
battalions and rout one another. They had the charge not of one simple
movement only, but of many several things to be performed in the battle:
as the Spaniards did to their dogs in their new conquest of the Indies, to
whom they gave pay and allowed them a share in the spoil; and those
animals showed as much dexterity and judgment in pursuing the victory and
stopping the pursuit; in charging and retiring, as occasion required; and
in distinguishing their friends from their enemies, as they did ardour and
fierceness.</p>
<p>We more admire and value things that are unusual and strange than those of
ordinary observation. I had not else so long insisted upon these examples:
for I believe whoever shall strictly observe what we ordinarily see in
those animals we have amongst us may there find as wonderful effects as
those we seek in remote countries and ages. 'Tis one and the same nature
that rolls on her course, and whoever has sufficiently considered the
present state of things, might certainly conclude as to both the future
ana the past. I have formerly seen men, brought hither by sea from very
distant countries, whose language not being understood by us, and moreover
their mien, countenance, and habit, being quite differing from ours; which
of us did not repute them savages and brutes! Who did not attribute it to
stupidity and want of common sense to see them mute, ignorant of the
French tongue, ignorant of our salutations and cringes, our port and
behaviour, from which all human nature must by all means take its pattern
and example. All that seems strange to us, and that we do not understand,
we condemn. The same thing happens also in the judgments we make of
beasts. They have several conditions like to ours; from those we may, by
comparison, draw some conjecture: but by those qualities that are
particular to themselves, what know we what to make of them! The horses,
dogs, oxen, sheep, birds, and most of the animals that live amongst us,
know our voices, and suffer themselves to be governed by them: so did
Crassus's lamprey, and came when he called it; as also do the eels that
are found in the Lake Arethusa; and I have seen several ponds where the
fishes come to eat at a certain call of those who use to feed them.</p>
<p>"They every one have names, and one and all<br/>
Straightway appear at their own master's call:"<br/></p>
<p>We may judge of that. We may also say that the elephants have some
participation of religion forasmuch as after several washings and
purifications they are observed to lift up their trunk like arms, and,
fixing their eyes towards the rising of the sun, continue long in
meditation and contemplation, at certain hours of the days, of their own
motion; without instruction or precept But because we do not see any such
signs in other animals, we cannot for that conclude that they are without
religion, nor make any judgment of what is concealed from us. As we
discern something in this action which the philosopher Cleanthes took
notice of, because it something resembles our own. He saw, he says, "Ants
go from their ant-hill, carrying the dead body of an ant towards another
ant-hill, whence several other ants came out to meet them, as if to speak
with them; where, after having been a while together, the last returned to
consult, you may suppose, with their fellow-citizens, and so made two or
three journeys, by reason of the difficulty of capitulation. In the
conclusion, the last comers brought the first a worm out of their burrow,
as it were for the ransom of the defunct, which the first laid upon their
backs and carried home, leaving the dead body to the others." This was the
interpretation that Cleanthes gave of this transaction, giving us by that
to understand that those creatures that have no voice are not,
nevertheless, without intercourse and mutual communication, whereof 'tis
through our own defect that we do not participate; and for that reason
foolishly take upon us to pass our censure. But they yet produce either
effects far beyond our capacity, to which we are so far from being able to
arrive by imitation that we cannot so much as by imitation conceive it.
Many are of opinion that in the great and last naval engagement that
Antony lost to Augustus, his admiral galley was stayed in the middle of
her course by the little fish the Latins call <i>remora</i>, by reason of
the property she has of staying all sorts of vessels to which she fastens
herself. And the Emperor Caligula, sailing with a great navy upon the
coast of Romania, his galley only was suddenly stayed by the same fish,
which, he caused to be taken, fastened as it was to the keel of his ship,
very angry that such a little animal could resist both the sea, the wind,
and the force of all his oars, by being only fastened by the beak to his
galley (for it is a shell-fish); and was moreover, not without great
reason, astonished that, being brought to him in the vessel, it had no
longer the strength it had without. A citizen of Cyzicus formerly acquired
the reputation of a good mathematician for having learnt the quality of
the hedge-hog: he has his burrow open in divers places, and to several
winds, and, foreseeing the wind that is to come, stops the hole on that
side, which that citizen observing, gave the city certain predictions of
the wind which was presently to blow. The camlon takes her colour from
the place upon which she is laid; but the polypus gives himself what
colour he pleases, according to occasion, either to conceal himself from
what he fears, or from what he has a design to seize: in the camlon 'tis
a passive, but in the polypus 'tis an active, change. We have some changes
of colour, as in fear, anger, shame, and other passions, that alter our
complexions; but it is by the effect of suffering, as with the camlon.
It is in the power of the jaundice, indeed, to make us turn yellow, but
'tis not in the power of our own will. Now these effects that we discover
in other animals, much greater than ours, seem to imply some more
excellent faculty in them unknown to us; as 'tis to be presumed there are
several other qualities and abilities of theirs, of which no appearances
have arrived at us.</p>
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