Imaginary Conversations and Poems: A Selection
great postulates are conceded.
_Timotheus._ We will pretermit these absurd and silly men: but, Cousin
Lucian! Cousin Lucian! the name of Plato will be durable as that of
Sesostris.
_Lucian._ So will the pebbles and bricks which gangs of slaves erected
into a pyramid. I do not hold Sesostris in much higher estimation than
those quieter lumps of matter. They, O Timotheus, who survive the
wreck of ages, are by no means, as a body, the worthiest of our
admiration. It is in these wrecks, as in those at sea, the best things
are not always saved. Hen-coops and empty barrels bob upon the
surface, under a serene and smiling sky, when the graven or depicted
images of the gods are scattered on invisible rocks, and when those
who most resemble them in knowledge and beneficence are devoured by
cold monsters below.
_Timotheus._ You now talk reasonably, seriously, almost religiously.
Do you ever pray?
_Lucian._ I do. It was no longer than five years ago that I was
deprived by death of my dog Melanops. He had uniformly led an innocent
life; for I never would let him walk out with me, lest he should bring
home in his mouth the remnant of some god or other, and at last get
bitten or stung by one. I reminded Anubis of this: and moreover I told
him, what he ought to be aware of, that Melanops did honour to his
relationship.
_Timotheus._ I cannot ever call it piety to pray for dumb and dead
beasts.
_Lucian._ Timotheus! Timotheus! have you no heart? have you no dog? do
you always pray only for yourself?
_Timotheus._ We do not believe that dogs can live again.
_Lucian._ More shame for you! If they enjoy and suffer, if they hope
and fear, if calamities and wrongs befall them, such as agitate their
hearts and excite their apprehensions; if they possess the option of
being grateful or malicious, and choose the worthier; if they exercise
the same sound judgment on many other occasions, some for their own
benefit and some for the benefit of their masters, they have as good a
chance of a future life, and a better chance of a happy one, than half
the priests of all the religions in the world. Wherever there is the
choice of doing well or ill, and that choice (often against a first
impulse) decides for well, there must not only be a soul of the same
nature as man's, although of less compass and comprehension, but,
being of the same nature, the same immortality must appertain to it;
for spirit, like body, may change, but cannot be annihilated.
It was among the prejudices of former times that pigs are uncleanly
animals, and fond of wallowing in the mire for mire's sake. Philosophy
has now discovered that when they roll in mud and ordure, it is only
from an excessive love of cleanliness, and a vehement desire to rid
themselves of scabs and vermin. Unfortunately, doubts keep pace with
discoveries. They are like warts, of which the blood that springs from
a great one extirpated, makes twenty little ones.
_Timotheus._ The Hydra would be a more noble simile.
_Lucian._ I was indeed about to illustrate my position by the old
Hydra, so ready at hand and so tractable; but I will never take hold
of a hydra, when a wart will serve my turn.
_Timotheus._ Continue then.
_Lucian._ Even children are now taught, in despite of Aesop, that
animals never spoke. The uttermost that can be advanced with any show
of confidence is, that if they spoke at all, they spoke in unknown
tongues. Supposing the fact, is this a reason why they should not be
respected? Quite the contrary. If the tongues were unknown, it tends
to demonstrate _our_ ignorance, not _theirs_. If we could not
understand them, while they possessed the gift, here is no proof that
they did not speak to the purpose, but only that it was not to _our_
purpose; which may likewise be said with equal certainty of the wisest
men that ever existed. How little have we learned from them, for the
conduct of life or the avoidance of calamity! Unknown tongues, indeed!
yes, so are all tongues to the vulgar and the negligent.
_Timotheus._ It comforts me to hear you talk in this manner, without a
glance at our gifts and privileges.
_Lucian._ I am less incredulous than you suppose, my cousin! Indeed I
have been giving you what ought to be a sufficient proof of it.
_Timotheus._ You have spoken with becoming gravity, I must confess.
_Lucian._ Let me then submit to your judgment some fragments of
history which have lately fallen into my hands. There is among them a
_hymn_, of which the metre is so incondite, and the phraseology so
ancient, that the grammarians have attributed it to Linus. But the
hymn will interest you less, and is less to our purpose, than the
tradition; by which it appears that certain priests of high antiquity
were of the brute creation.
_Timotheus._ No better, any of them.
_Lucian._ Now you have polished the palms of your hands, I will
commence my narrative from the manuscript.
_Timotheus._ Pray do.
_Lucian._ There existed in the city of Nephosis a fraternity of
priests, reverenced by the appellation of _Gasteres_. It is reported
that they were not always of their present form, but were birds
aquatic and migratory, a species of cormorant. The poet Linus, who
lived nearer the transformation (if there indeed was any), sings thus,
in his Hymn to Zeus:
'Thy power is manifest, O Zeus! in the Gasteres. Wild birds were they,
strong of talon, clanging of wing, and clamorous of gullet. Wild
birds, O Zeus! wild birds; now cropping the tender grass by the river
of Adonis, and breaking the nascent reed at the root, and depasturing
the sweet nymphaea; now again picking up serpents and other creeping
things on each hand of old Aegyptos, whose head is hidden in the
clouds.
'Oh that Mnemosyne would command the staidest of her three daughters
to stand and sing before me! to sing clearly and strongly. How before
thy throne, Saturnian! sharp voices arose, even the voices of Here and
of thy children. How they cried out that innumerable mortal men,
various-tongued, kid-roasters in tent and tabernacle, devising in
their many-turning hearts and thoughtful minds how to fabricate
well-rounded spits of beech-tree, how such men having been changed
into brute animals, it behoved thee to trim the balance, and in thy
wisdom to change sundry brute animals into men; in order that they
might pour out flame-coloured wine unto thee, and sprinkle the white
flower of the sea upon the thighs of many bulls, to pleasure thee.
Then didst thou, O storm-driver! overshadow far lands with thy dark
eyebrows, looking down on them, to accomplish thy will. And then didst
thou behold the Gasteres, fat, tall, prominent-crested, purple-legged,
daedal-plumed, white and black, changeable in colour as Iris. And lo!
thou didst will it, and they were men.'
_Timotheus._ No doubt whatever can be entertained of this hymn's
antiquity. But what farther says the historian?
_Lucian._ I will read on, to gratify you.
'It is recorded that this ancient order of a most lordly priesthood
went through many changes of customs and ceremonies, which indeed they
were always ready to accommodate to the maintenance of their authority
and the enjoyment of their riches. It is recorded that, in the
beginning, they kept various tame animals, and some wild ones, within
the precincts of the temple: nevertheless, after a time, they applied
to their own uses everything they could lay their hands on, whatever
might have been the vow of those who came forward with the offering.
And when it was expected of them to make sacrifices, they not only
would make none, but declared it an act of impiety to expect it. Some
of the people, who feared the Immortals, were dismayed and indignant
at this backwardness; and the discontent at last grew universal.
Whereupon, the two chief priests held a long conference together, and
agreed that something must be done to pacify the multitude. But it was
not until the greater of them, acknowledging his despondency, called
on the gods to answer for him that his grief was only because he never
could abide bad precedents: and the other, on his side, protested that
he was overruled by his superior, and moreover had a serious
objection (founded on principle) to be knocked on the head. Meanwhile
the elder was looking down on the folds of his robe, in deep
melancholy. After long consideration, he sprang upon his feet, pushing
his chair behind him, and said, "Well, it is grown old, and was always
too long for me: I am resolved to cut off a finger's breadth."
'"Having, in your wisdom and piety, well contemplated the bad
precedent," said the other, with much consternation in his countenance
at seeing so elastic a spring in a heel by no means bearing any
resemblance to a stag's.... "I have, I have," replied the other,
interrupting him; "say no more; I am sick at heart; you must do the
same."
'"A cursed dog has torn a hole in mine," answered the other, "and, if
I cut anywhere about it, I only make bad worse. In regard to its
length, I wish it were as long again." "Brother! brother! never be
worldly-minded," said the senior. "Follow my example: snip off it not
a finger's breadth, half a finger's breadth."
'"But," expostulated the other, "will that satisfy the gods?" "Who
talked about them?" placidly said the senior. "It is very unbecoming
to have them always in our mouths: surely there are appointed times
for them. Let us be contented with laying the snippings on the altar,
and thus showing the people our piety and condescension. They, and the
gods also, will be just as well satisfied, as if we offered up a
buttock of beef, with a bushel of salt and the same quantity of
wheaten flour on it."
'"Well, if that will do ... and you know best," replied the other, "so
be it." Saying which words, he carefully and considerately snipped off
as much in proportion (for he was shorter by an inch) as the elder had
done, yet leaving on his shoulders quite enough of materials to make
handsome cloaks for seven or eight stout-built generals. Away they
both went, arm-in-arm, and then holding up their skirts a great deal
higher than was necessary, told the gods what they two had been doing
for them and their glory. About the court of the temple the sacred
swine were lying in indolent composure: seeing which, the brotherly
twain began to commune with themselves afresh: and the senior said
repentantly, "What fools we have been! The populace will laugh
outright at the curtailment of our vestures, but would gladly have
seen these animals eat daily a quarter less of the lentils." The words
were spoken so earnestly and emphatically that they were overheard by
the quadrupeds. Suddenly there was a rising of all the principal ones
in the sacred enclosure: and many that were in the streets took up,
each according to his temperament and condition, the gravest or
shrillest tone of reprobation. The thinner and therefore the more
desperate of the creatures, pushing their snouts under the curtailed
habiliments of the high priests, assailed them with ridicule and
reproach. For it had pleased the gods to work a miracle in their
behoof, and they became as loquacious as those who governed them, and
who were appointed to speak in the high places. "Let the worst come to
the worst, we at least have our tails to our hams," said they. "For
how long?" whined others, piteously: others incessantly ejaculated
tremendous imprecations: others, more serious and sedate, groaned
inwardly; and, although under their hearts there lay a huge mass of
indigestible sourness ready to rise up against the chief priests, they
ventured no farther than expostulation. "We shall lose our voices,"
said they, "if we lose our complement of lentils; and then, most
reverend lords, what will ye do for choristers?" Finally, one of grand