The Fables of La Fontaine | Page 5

Olive, the Vine, and the Bramble.
When the prophet Nathan would oblige David to pass a sentence of
condemnation upon himself in the matter of Uriah, he brought before
him the apologue of the rich man who, having many sheep, took away
that of the poor man who had but one. When Joash, the king of Israel,
would rebuke the vanity of Amaziah, the king of Judah, he referred him
to the fable of the Thistle and the Cedar. Our blessed Saviour, the best
of all teachers, was remarkable for his constant use of parables, which
are but fables--we speak it with reverence--adapted to the gravity of the
subjects on which he discoursed. And, in profane history, we read that
Stesichorus put the Himerians on their guard against the tyranny of
Phalaris by the fable of the Horse and the Stag. Cyrus, for the
instruction of kings, told the story of the fisher obliged to use his nets
to take the fish that turned a deaf ear to the sound of his flute. Menenius
Agrippa, wishing to bring back the mutinous Roman people from

Mount Sacer, ended his harangue with the fable of the Belly and the
Members. A Ligurian, in order to dissuade King Comanus from
yielding to the Phocians a portion of his territory as the site of
Marseilles, introduced into his discourse the story of the bitch that
borrowed a kennel in which to bring forth her young, but, when they
were sufficiently grown, refused to give it up.
In all these instances, we see that fable was a mere auxiliary of
discourse--an implement of the orator. Such, probably, was the origin
of the apologues which now form the bulk of the most popular
collections. Aesop, who lived about six hundred years before Christ, so
far as we can reach the reality of his life, was an orator who wielded the
apologue with remarkable skill. From a servile condition, he rose, by
the force of his genius, to be the counsellor of kings and states. His
wisdom was in demand far and wide, and on the most important
occasions. The pithy apologues which fell from his lips, which, like the
rules of arithmetic, solved the difficult problems of human conduct
constantly presented to him, were remembered when the speeches that
contained them were forgotten. He seems to have written nothing
himself; but it was not long before the gems which he scattered began
to be gathered up in collections, as a distinct species of literature. The
great and good Socrates employed himself, while in prison, in turning
the fables of Aesop into verse. Though but a few fragments of his
composition have come down to us, he may, perhaps, be regarded as
the father of fable, considered as a distinct art. Induced by his example,
many Greek poets and philosophers tried their hands in it. Archilocus,
Alcaeus, Aristotle, Plato, Diodorus, Plutarch, and Lucian, have left us
specimens. Collections of fables bearing the name of Aesop became
current in the Greek language. It was not, however, till the year 1447
that the large collection which now bears his name was put forth in
Greek prose by Planudes, a monk of Constantinople. This man turned
the life of Aesop itself into a fable; and La Fontaine did it the honour to
translate it as a preface to his own collection. Though burdened with
insufferable puerilities, it is not without the moral that a rude and
deformed exterior may conceal both wit and worth.
The collection of fables in Greek verse by Babrias was exceedingly

popular among the Romans. It was the favourite book of the Emperor
Julian. Only six of these fables, and a few fragments, remain; but they
are sufficient to show that their author possessed all the graces of style
which befit the apologue. Some critics place him in the Augustan age;
others make him contemporary with Moschus. His work was versified
in Latin, at the instance of Seneca; and Quinctilian refers to it as a
reading-book for boys. Thus, at all times, these playful fictions have
been considered fit lessons for children, as well as for men, who are
often but grown-up children. So popular were the fables of Babrias and
their Latin translation, during the Roman empire, that the work of
Phaedrus was hardly noticed. The latter was a freedman of Augustus,
and wrote in the reign of Tiberius. His verse stands almost unrivalled
for its exquisite elegance and compactness; and posterity has
abundantly avenged him for the neglect of contemporaries. La Fontaine
is perhaps more indebted to Phaedrus than to any other of his
predecessors; and, especially in the first six books, his style has much
of the same curious condensation. When the seat of the empire was
transferred to Byzantium, the Greek language took precedence