Fables of La Fontaine — Fables CLXXI and CLXXII

DEMOCRITUS AND THE ABDERANIANS.

How I the base and vulgar hate: Profane, unjust, and obstinate!

So ever prone, with lip and eye, To turn the truth to calumny!

The master of great Epicurus Suffered from this rabble once;

Which shows e'en learning can't secure us From the malice of the dunce.

By all the people of his town Was cried, "Democritus is mad!"

But in his own land, well 'tis known, No prophet credit ever had.

The truth within a nutshell lies: His friends were fools,--and he was wise.

The error spread to such extent, That, at length, a deputation, With letters from Abdera's nation, To famed Hippocrates was sent, With humble, earnest hope that he For madness might find remedy.

"Our fellow-townsman," weeping said The deputation, "lost his head Through too much reading.

Would that he Had only read as much as we!

To know how truly he insane is, He says, for instance, nought more plain is, Than that this earth is only one Of million others round the sun;

And all these shining worlds are full Of people, wise as well as dull.

And, not content with dreaming thus, With theories strange he puzzles us;

Asserting that his brain consists Of some queer kind of airy mists.

And, more than this, he says, that though He measures stars from earth below, What he himself is he don't know!

Long since, in friendly conversation, He was the wit of all the nation;

But now alone he'll talk and mumble: So, great physician, if you can, Pray come and cure this poor old man."

Hippocrates, by all this jumble, Was not deceived, but still he went;-- And here we see how accident Can bring such meetings 'tween ourselves As scarce could managed be by elves.

Hippocrates arrived, to find That he whom all men called a fool Was sage, and wise, and calm, and cool,-- Still searching for the innate mind In heart and brain of beast and man.

Retired beneath a leafy grove, Through which a murmuring brooklet ran, The sage, with patient ardour, strove The labyrinths of a skull to scan.

Beside him lay full many a scroll By ancients written; and his soul Was wrapt in learned thought so wholly, That scarce he saw his friend advance: Their greeting was but just a glance;-- For sages right well know the folly Of idle compliment and word.

So, throwing off all forms absurd, They spoke, in language large and free, Of man, his soul and destiny;

And then discussed the secret springs Which move all bad or holy things.

But 'tis not meet that I rehearse Such weighty words in humble verse.

From this short story we may see How much at fault the mob may be;

And this being so, pray tell me why Some venture to proclaim aloud That in the clamour of the crowd We hear the voice of Deity?

[Illustration: THE OYSTER AND ITS CLAIMANTS.

] FABLE CLXXII.

THE OYSTER AND ITS CLAIMANTS.

Two travellers discovered on the beach An Oyster, carried thither by the sea.

'Twas eyed with equal greediness by each;

Then came the question whose was it to be.

One, stooping down to pounce upon the prize, Was thrust away before his hand could snatch it.

"Not quite so quickly," his companion cries;

"If <i>you've</i> a claim here, <i>I've</i> a claim to match it;

The first that saw it has the better right To its possession; come, you can't deny it."

"Well," said his friend, "my orbs are pretty bright, And <i>I</i>, upon my life, was first to spy it."

"You?

Not at all; or, if you <i>did</i> perceive it, I <i>smelt</i> it long before it was in view;

But here's a lawyer coming--let us leave it To him to arbitrate between the two."

The lawyer listens with a stolid face, Arrives at his decision in a minute;

And, as the shortest way to end the case, Opens the shell and cats the fish within it.

The rivals look upon him with dismay:-- "This Court," says he, "awards you each a shell;

You've neither of you any costs to pay, And so be happy.

Go in peace.

Farewell!"

How often, when causes to trial are brought, Does the lawyer get pelf and the client get naught!

The former will pocket his fees with a sneer, While the latter sneaks off with a flea in his ear.

FABLE CLXXIII.