Fables and Fabulists: Ancient and Modern

Besides the fabulists already named, there are, among the ancients, Avian, Ademar, Rufus, Romulus, Alfonso and Poggio. Among the French, Nivernois, and the Abbé Fénelon (1651-1715), author of 'Dialogues of the Dead' and 'Telemachus.' Notwithstanding his reputation in his own country as a fabulist, it must be allowed that his fables are much too lengthy and prolix. The characters he gives to his animals are unnatural, and their manners and speech pointless and tame. Florian, an imitator of Yriarte, and a friend of Voltaire, by whose advice he cultivated the literature of Spain; Boursalt, Boisard, Ginguene, Jauffret, Le Grand and Armoult. Amongst the Germans are, Gellert (1746), Nicolai, Hagedorn, Pfeffel and Lichtner. The Italian fabulists are numerous: Tommaso Crudeli (1703-1743), Gian-Carlo Passeroni (1713-1803), Giambattisti Roberti (1719-1786), Luigi Grillo (1725-1790), Lorenzo Pignotti (1739-1812), who with an elegant diction combines splendid descriptive powers; Clemente Bondi (1742-1821), Aurelio de Giorgi Bertola (1753-1798), Luigi Clasio (1754-1825), Giovanni Gherardo de Rossi (1754-1827), Gaetano Perego (1814-1868) and Gaetano Polidori. Among Spanish fabulists, besides Yriarte, there is Samaniego (1745-1801). Of Russian writers of fables we have already spoken of Krilof, and there are besides, Chemnitzer, Dmitriev, Glinka, Lomonosov (1711-1765), Goncharov and Alexander Sumarakov (1718-1777). Of English writers not already referred to, the following may be named as having tried their hand at the composition of fables: Addison, Sir John Vanbrugh,[68 - Vanbrugh, the architect, noted for the solidity of the structures he designed, and on whom the epitaph, one of the best epigrams ever penned, was proposed:'Lie heavy on him, Earth, for he Laid many a heavy load on thee.'] Prior, Goldsmith, Henryson, Coyne, Winter. Thomas Percival, M.D., President of the Literary and Philosophical Society of Manchester about the end of last century, wrote a volume of moral tales, fables, and reflections. Bussey's collection is well known. The late W. J. Macquorn Rankine, Regius Professor of Civil Engineering in Glasgow University, wrote a number of 'Songs and Fables,' which were published posthumously in a small volume in 1874. The fables, twelve in all, are an ingenious attempt, not wanting in playful humour, to elucidate the origin and meaning of some of the old and well-known signboards, such as The Pig and Whistle, The Cat and Fiddle, The Goat and Compasses, and others. An interesting collection of one hundred and six 'Indian Fables,' in English, the materials for which were gathered from native sources and put into form by Mr. P. V. Ramaswami Raju, B.A., were originally contributed to the columns of the Leisure Hour, and afterwards published in a volume (1887).[69 - London: Swan Sonnenschein, Lowrey and Co.]

Specimens of the work of some of the writers named are given in the succeeding pages.

The Bee and the Coquette (Florian). – 'Chloe, young, handsome, and a decided coquette, laboured very hard every morning on rising; people say it was at her toilet; and there, smiling and smirking, she related to her dear confidant all her pains, her pleasures, and the projects of her soul.

'A thoughtless bee, entering her chamber, began buzzing about. "Help! help!" immediately shrieked the lady. "Lizzy! Mary! here, make haste! drive away this winged monster!"

'The insolent insect settling on Chloe's lips, she fainted; and Mary, furiously seizing the bee, prepared to crush it.

'"Alas!" gently exclaimed the unfortunate insect, "forgive my error; Chloe's mouth seemed to me a rose, and as such I kissed it."

'This speech restored Chloe to her senses: "Let us forgive it," said she, "on account of its candid confession! Besides, its sting is but a trifle; since it has spoken to you, I have scarcely felt it."

'What may one not effect by a little well-timed flattery?'

The Farmer, Horseman, and Pedestrian (Nivernois)

'A farmer on his ass astride,
Who peacefully pursued his ride,
Exclaim'd, when, on a Spanish steed,
A horseman pass'd with lively speed,
"Ah, charming seat! what deed of mine
Should thus incense the powers divine,
Who doom me ne'er to shift my place,
But at an ass's tardy pace?"
Thus speaking, with chagrin and spite,
He reach'd a rough and rocky height,
Up which a poor, o'er-labour'd drudge,
On tottering feet, was forc'd to trudge;
With forehead prone, and bending back
Press'd by a large and heavy pack.
The farmer cross'd the hill at ease;
Jocosely set, with lolling knees,
On his poor ass, the rugged scene
Appear'd a soft and level green,
No flinty points his feet annoy'd;
He pass'd the panting walker's side,
Yet saw him not, so rapt his brain
With dreams of Andalusia's plain.
Such is the world – our bosoms brood
With keen desire o'er others' good;
On this we muse, and, musing still,
We rarely dream of others' ill.
A further truth the tale unfolds:
Each, like the ass-born hind, beholds
The rich around on steeds of Spain,
And deems their rank exempt from pain.
But still let us our notice keep
On those who clamber up the steep.'

The Land of the Halt (Gellert). – 'Many years since, in a small territory, there was not one of the inhabitants who did not stutter when he spoke, and halt in walking; both these defects, moreover, were considered accomplishments. A stranger saw the evil, and, thinking how they would admire his walking, went about without halting, after the usual manner of our race. Everyone stopped to look at him, and all those who looked, laughed, and, holding their sides to repress their merriment, shouted: "Teach the stranger how to walk properly!"

'The stranger considered it his duty to cast the reproach from himself. "You halt," he cried, "it is not I; you must accustom yourselves to leave off so awkward a habit!" This only increased the uproar, when they heard him speak; he did not even stammer; this was sufficient to disgrace him, and he was laughed at throughout the country.

'Habit will render faults, which we have been accustomed to regard from youth, beautiful; in vain will a stranger attempt to convince us that we are in error. We look upon him as a madman, solely because he is wiser than ourselves.'

The Beau and Butterfly (Francis Gentleman)

'Thus speaks an adage, somewhat old,
"Truth is not to be always told."
What eye but, struck with outward show,
Admires the pretty thing, a beau?
Which both by Art and Nature made is,
The sport of sense, the toy of ladies.
A mortal of this tiny mould,
In clothes of silk, adorned with gold,
And dressed in ev'ry point of sight
To give the world of taste delight,
Prepared to enter his sedan,
A birthday picture of a man,
Cried out in vain soliloquy:
"Was ever creature formed like me?
By Art or Nature's nicest care
Made more complete and debonnair?
I see myself, with perfect joy,
Of human kind the je ne sçai quoy;
In ev'rything I rival France,
In fashion, wit, and sprightly dance;
So charming are my shape and parts,
I'm formed for captivating hearts;
The proudest toast, when in the vein,
I take at once by coup de main;
Mort de ma vie, 'tis magic all,
I look, and vanquished women fall!"
One of the race of butterflies,
An insect far more nice than wise,
Who, from his sunny couch of glass,
Had listened to the two-legged ass,
With intermeddling zeal replied:
"Unequalled folly! matchless pride!
Shalt thou, a patchwork creature, claim
More lovely shape, or greater name,
Than one of us? Assert thy right —
Stand naked in my critic sight!
"To parent earth at once resign
The produce of her golden mine;
Give to the worm her silken store,
The diamond to Golconda's shore;
Nor let the many teeth you want