EXTRACTFROMTHE“DAILYMONITEUR”OF THEANIMALS.Our worst fears are confirmed. Grave disorders of a seditious character have broken out. A band of rioters, numbering about three thousand, have detached themselves from the army, with the avowed intention of exciting the animal kingdom to revolt. Sword in hand, or sting in tail, they clamour for what they are pleased to term “general reform.” This band is led by a notorious Wasp, famed for his poison andthe purity of his principles. In vain have a number of venerable flies striven to calm the popular tumult. Their words have been misunderstood. Happen what may, we are prepared to tide over the storm, and to defeat these odious attempts to uproot the constitution. “Troubles,” said Montesquieu, “build up empires.”The captain of our winged guards, Lord Humble Bee, has not succeeded in dispersing the rioters; he thought—and rightly—that it would be advisable to withdraw before shedding blood, contenting himself by cutting off the food supplies and hemming in the insurgents, who, after a few hours, would thus be compelled to capitulate or starve. The humanity of this noble leader is worthy of all praise.The insurgents are throwing up barricades of grass and dried twigs, and are prepared, it is said, to sustain a regular siege. The field they occupy is at least eighteen inches wide by ten inches long.The most contradictory rumours are spread abroad. Some of the rebels accuse us of indirectly stirring up revolt. “Tyrants of the deepest dye,” said one, “maintain their power by setting their subjects one against the other, so that in their petty strife they may overlook the defects of government.” What can we say of such absurdities. If therulers of states had nothing to fear save the unity of the people, they would sleep on downy pillows!It is reported that the disaffected flies are everywhere rousing the nation. One of them the Clarion, a clever musician, has composed a war march entitled, “The Roll Call of the Flies.” We can now hear the tones of this impious music floating over Paris. It is wafted from a thousand instruments at the Pantheon, the Val de Grace, the tour Saint Jacques la Boucherie, the Salpîtrière, the Père Lachaise, where the emissaries have been stationed by the leaders of the movement.A number of prisoners have been arrested, but they refuse to disclose their principles.EXAMINING THE FLY’S HEAD.“We are of snow-white purity!” say they. “Why should such innocents be arrested? Take our heads!”“Your heads! what can we do with a fly’s head? Nevertheless we will consider this proposition.”The pretensions of the rebels are now known, “the common good” serves them as a pretext for personal ambition and private hatred. Revolution means nothing more than the relinquishing of our posts to others who are not so well qualified to fill them. If we refuse to yield to their demands—as we intend to do—we are doomed, so they say. Our posts andemoluments will be sold with our lives! We owe this as a tribute to the animal kingdom.For what are we reproached? Have we been unjust, or partial? Have we not followed our programme and printed all contributions without preference, or selection, blindly as every just editor ought to do? We are over head and ears in paper, knee deep in ink; we have burned the midnight oil, endeavoured to please everybody, entertained foes in the guise of friends, and in short, succeeded so well in our various duties as to secure the envy and hatred of an ungrateful rebel.The chief of the insurrection is a Scarab! the Scarab Hercules! This is no doubt a very fine name for a leader. Have you made the acquaintance of this Scarab? We for our part might scorn the attacks of such a grovelling fellow, did we not know that the bite or sting of the meanest of God’s creatures is always most venomous and destructive.“We have therefore pleasure unalloyed in issuing the followingorder:—1st.A price is placed upon the head of the Scarab Hercules; a suitable reward will be paid to any one who will bring him dead or alive (we would prefer him dead).2d.Measures will be immediately taken to raise a large body of troops; a force of nine hundred thousand flies fully equipped to fight the rebels in the field or in the air.3rd.The commissioners of police are required to carry one or more lengths of rope as their means will permit.4th.All honest subjects are required to remain at home, go to bed early, get up late, and to see or hear nothing. Such a line of conduct will prove to the rioters that their projects find no favour among slumbering citizens.5th.Animals found in pairs, or in groups, shall be cooked, or dispersed by force. This notice concerns Ostriches, Ducks, gregarious and socially-disposed animals.A Kite was sent to us bearing a flag of truce. We deigned to receive and listen to him. He said, “You, sirs, have spoken and managed affairs after your own fashion; now listen, we must each one have our turn. Over there, we number thirty three million free subjects, God’s creatures, and every one as ambitious as yourselves to make a stir in the world; to write and speak fearlessly, Equality is our divine right!”“What is a right?” inquired an old Crow whose acquaintance thereader has already made, “summum jus, summa injuria! If you must all write, the folios of the whole world would not be sufficient to contain the manuscript, not even if each one restricted himself, not to his history, nor to a page, line, word, letter, or even a comma.”This judicious refutation was deemed simply absurd, and the foolish Kite replied by asking another question. “That is enough! who endowed you with your power of reckoning? Has the God of Scarabs not made earth, sky, light, trees, and even leaves, that every one who has an equal stake, may have an equal share in all created things?”O folly! the victory of such reasonable kites and scarabs is certain. Go back to your camp.Alas! civil war is making its way into the most peaceful valleys. The spirit of revolt has spread from the insects to the birds, and even to the quadrupeds. Alarm is everywhere abroad. The doors of the cages have to be kept shut, a proceeding most galling to those animals who sit outside watching their neighbours. Let the peacefully disposed take courage, the geese are still guarding the capital.The insurgents have replied to the articles of our journal, in a paper they have established, called “The Guardian of Freedom;” or, “Review of Animal Reform.”Yesterday, the friends of liberty assembled in the Hall of Natural History, where stuffed animals are preserved.This preliminary meeting was held at a late hour. One by one the members assembled, and silently exchanging tokens of recognition, seated themselves in the galleries opposite their preserved ancestors. The stillness was such, that one could hardly distinguish the dead from the living. The Elephant, Bear, Buffalo, Bison, and the Eagle all arrived at the same moment, as if drawn thither by some power supernatural. But who can deny that love of liberty moves mountains, and at once explains the presence of these noble beasts.MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY.“Brothers,” said an orator at last, “we have remained silent, and yet we know full well the cause of our meeting. Fellow elephants, apes, birds, and beasts! I crave your forbearance—(cheers)—while I point out to you the only true elements of reform. (Loud applause.) Our proceedings last year have let us in for a rather bad thing; the animals elected to edit our proceedings, and to conduct the affairs of our kingdom, have tampered with our liberty. Visit their chambers—there you shall behold histories without number, rejected and shelved; shelved to suit the editor’s caprices! (Cheers.) Many of the pages thus consigned tooblivion, are very mirrors of light and liberty that would have shed a glorious lustre over the ages. Ah! I see, in the cultured faces around, the lineaments of all that is noble and patriotic in the land! I hear in those deep drawn sighs, harrowing tales of genius neglected and suppressed by the jealousy of those who are set over us! (Thunders of applause.) I read the sentiments of true hearts, roused by oppression, in the fervour of your wagging tails and glorious gnashing of incisors! Brothers, let calm and tranquil sagacity resume its throne in your breasts, which are torn with righteous indignation! Listen—words must express pent-up thoughts! I must speak! you must act!! The course we are pursuing is leading us to ruin! What has the publication of our history done for us? For us? nay, not for us; for the few—the select favoured ones whose stories have appeared in its pages. What has it done for us? simply nothing. In these pages the wrongs of all, high and low, should find a place. Has it been so? I ask you. (Shouts of ‘No! no! no! down with the editors!’) Down with them! the tyrants!! they have abused the power we placed in their hands! served their friends, and calmly said, ‘All is well.’ What has come of it all? Has our world ceased to be a vale of tears? Have our homes been happier? Our prospects brighter? Has our fame been spread abroad? (‘The stag, elk, and calf, No! no!!’) Brothers, since that memorable night, when the first outcry for liberty and reform was hailed by the acclamations of the whole world, our rights and liberties have been systematically betrayed. We have been sold! sold!! sold to men!! (‘True, true! they sold us,!’) sold to men!!! But let us leave these inferior animals alone, they are not our worst enemies. Our leaders have betrayed us for a caress from their keepers, or a miserable subsidy of nuts and crusts. Whither shall we direct our steps? shall it be back to our narrow prisons, or lonely desert wastes? (All the animals, ‘Alas! alas!’) Will the clouds be our canopy and the earth our pillow? I tell you, friends, we shall all of us die in irons. (In chorus, ‘O misery, misery!’)”The orator, turning towards the remains of countless generations of animals,continued—“Remains of our illustrious ancestors, you who once lived and breathed. Miserable mummies! ghosts of all that is beautiful in our vitality and action. Did you voluntarily relinquish the care of the creator to play your part in this ghastly mimicry of life? Were we created to be stuffed and preserved in cases, side by side with the poorworks of man, in place of returning to your parent earth after fulfilling your destinies? Brothers, let us escape from men and the doom that awaits us. The way to liberty may be narrow and well-guarded; it is our only way! we must follow it, force the passes, water them with our blood, and gain the glorious grassy plains and wooded vales of freedom!”If one may credit the report of this pompous oration, the effect it produced was perfectly marvellous. We need only notice one point in this wicked dithyrambic. You say, Mr. Bison, the speaker, that we have sold you—you are right we have sold you! and what is more we are proud of it! No less than 20,000 copies. Could you have done so much? You owe us your thanks for raising your market value.The dean of the Jardin des Plantes—a venerable Buffalo—whose personal character we esteem, replied thus to his cousin theBison:—“My children, I am the oldest slave in this garden, and have the sad honour of being your dean. Of my early days I have but a dim recollection, indeed I can only recall the days of my freedom. Sweet days they were, and in spite of my twenty odd years of bondage the young blood comes back to my heart as I reflect on the prospect of renewed liberty. (Cheers.) I speak of your liberty, my children, not of my own, for my eyes will close in death long before the dawn of that glorious day. Slave I have lived, and slave I shall die. (Shouts of ‘Long live the Buffalo.’) My good friends,” replied the speaker, “it is not in your power to add an hour to my life. It is not the selfish freedom of one, or of many, but of all that we must seek. I therefore beseech you to remain united. (Murmurs of dissent.) My children, do not plunge into the misery of civil strife. Do not cavil over the mean rags of power. When you have changed your one-eyed house for a blind mock, what benefit will the change confer? Think of the misery you may bring upon the poor and helpless ones, and how that a little power, more or less, vested in the hands of my hearers can never effect the good of all.”The closing words of this speech were listened to coldly, the respect due to the speaker alone preventing a demonstration.“Civil war leads to despotism and not to liberty,” said the dean, as he sadly resumed his seat.“Are we here to listen to a sermon?” roared the Lynx.A number of agitators followed. It is necessary here to remark thatthe more indifferent the cause to be advocated the greater the crowd of speakers.The Boar proceeded to address the assembly in a flow of eloquence, until domestic duties called him to the bosom of his numerous family.Here we end our quotations from the “Journal of Reform,” and in justice to the rioters, will conclude with a literal account of the proceedings, furnished by a Ferret who was present at the meeting.“For three hours the rioters, irrespective of the place, or the sacred presence of the dead around, kept up an incessant thunder of inarticulate sounds, stamping, groaning, and applauding. Sixty-three speakers addressed the audience simultaneously. The result of this tumult of voices may be more easily imagined than described.”Our correspondent adds: “The art of whistling and howling has made such astonishing progress among the audience as to suggest a mass meeting in England!”One of those doubtful dogs who have no political opinions, and who are to be found in every popular assembly attempted to gain a hearing.“If we are vanquished!” he said.“Vanquished! bah! Out with the cur!” cried the Bear, with that air of brutality so peculiarly his own.“Out with him!” growled the Hyena; “barking is not enough, we must bite!”“Beware of the spy,” shrieked the Weasel.The prudent brute waiting to hear no more, tucked his tail snugly between his legs and bolted through a window.Here the Ram ventured to point out that the editors had gained the confidence of the people.“Popularity is no proof of genius,” said the Wolf. “The people will forget their idols.”“And hate them,” growled the Hyena.“If they neglect their love, they will nurse their hatred!” hissed the Snake.The Fox perceiving that unanimity of sentiment was hopeless, adjourned the meeting by proposing that the rioters should refresh themselves by a night’s repose. So they departed each one to his den, and there dreaming of reform and rapine, rose with the sun to renew the conflict. They awoke to arms and assaulted the amphitheatre. The onslaught was severe, and in our extremity we inquired for Prince Leo.“They have taken the amphitheatre,” said that great general, “and what is more they shall keep it.”The prince’s firm attitude proved reassuring, for this renowned tactician had taken timely measures to teach the traitors a terrible lesson. He shut them in and secured the approaches, so that the stronghold was like to become the tomb of the insurgents. All attempts to relieve their position were vigorously repulsed by Prince Humble-Bee.An audacious Ape mounted the amphitheatre roof and raised the standard of revolt; while a Mole proposed to entrench the army within its hill. The proposal was negatived, as the position was deemed already too strong.A celebrated engineering Spider offered to spin a suspension bridge over which the insurgents might escape during the night. To this the Fly objected, while the Elephant urged that the work should be at once proceeded with.The extraordinary simplicity of this giant of the forest inspired oneof our friends with the idea for the following couplet, which we gladly insert (as it ought not to be lost to posterity), regretting, at the same time, that the gifted poet insists on remaininganonymous:—AIR—“Femmes, voulez-vous éprouver.”“Un Éléphant se balançaitSur une toile d’Araignée;Voyant qu’il divertissait,Une Mouche en fut indignée:‘Comment peux-tu te rejouer,’Dit-elle, ‘en voyant ma souffranceAh! viens plutôt me soucourir,Ma main sera ta recompense.’ ”We secured a number of brave auxiliaries in the shrimps, who, headed by a valiant sea-crab, shouted, as they formed into marchingorder—“Forward let us marchWith our backs upon the foe.”All good citizens were ordered to leave wife and children, and prepare to be everywhere at a moment’s notice, ready to fight for theircountry. Notwithstanding the happy stratagem which shut in the rebels, we were doomed to defeat. A company of the enemy’s flies, mechanics, were drafted to place the guns so as to command our position. The coolness of these creatures, foes though they were, won our admiration. They planted the weapons with an unconcern as complete as if preparing to storm the calix of a flower, while the result of their manœuvres soon told terribly on our left wing. Our swarms, impatient for the fray—displaying more valour than discretion—fell upon the foe in disorganised detachments. The right attacked the enemy’s left under the leadership of the Goliaths, but the light infantry under Prince Humble-Bee were as waves against a rock scattered in boiling foam. Our left was opposed by the mining, cutting, and carpentering Andrines, and the corporation of Rhinoceros-Beetles, who having only one horn, obeyed the mighty two-horned Stags. Flies, Moths, Grubs, and other insects attacked and routed our centre. Prince Humble-Bee calculated on the Rhinoceros-Beetles attacking his heavy troops, compelling them to traverse the field, separating the two armies; but the Beetle, who had been apprised of the plan of campaign by a deserter, commanded his troops to close their ranks and their wings, thus to await the enemy’s shock.The colours floated in the wind, the sun shone brightly on the insects ranged in battle array, while martial music fired our foes withdesperate resolve. From time to time grains of balsam, projected into the air by Stag-Beetles with much precision, fell among our troops, exploding and scattering death and dismay around. The enemy’s forces stood firm as a rock. Our army, thoroughly demoralised, made a final attack, and were beaten off with great loss. Bruised wings, scattered mandibles and limbs impeded their movements, till at last they fell back in disorder. As a climax to our misfortunes, the general of the May Bugs, rolling over on his back, was pierced by the sting of a rebel Wasp. It was a lost battle—the Waterloo of our cause! Prince Humble-Bee, not caring to survive his defeat, plunged into the thick of the fray, when, after performing prodigies of valour, he died the death of the brave, pierced by twenty-nine wounds.
Our worst fears are confirmed. Grave disorders of a seditious character have broken out. A band of rioters, numbering about three thousand, have detached themselves from the army, with the avowed intention of exciting the animal kingdom to revolt. Sword in hand, or sting in tail, they clamour for what they are pleased to term “general reform.” This band is led by a notorious Wasp, famed for his poison andthe purity of his principles. In vain have a number of venerable flies striven to calm the popular tumult. Their words have been misunderstood. Happen what may, we are prepared to tide over the storm, and to defeat these odious attempts to uproot the constitution. “Troubles,” said Montesquieu, “build up empires.”
The captain of our winged guards, Lord Humble Bee, has not succeeded in dispersing the rioters; he thought—and rightly—that it would be advisable to withdraw before shedding blood, contenting himself by cutting off the food supplies and hemming in the insurgents, who, after a few hours, would thus be compelled to capitulate or starve. The humanity of this noble leader is worthy of all praise.
The insurgents are throwing up barricades of grass and dried twigs, and are prepared, it is said, to sustain a regular siege. The field they occupy is at least eighteen inches wide by ten inches long.
The most contradictory rumours are spread abroad. Some of the rebels accuse us of indirectly stirring up revolt. “Tyrants of the deepest dye,” said one, “maintain their power by setting their subjects one against the other, so that in their petty strife they may overlook the defects of government.” What can we say of such absurdities. If therulers of states had nothing to fear save the unity of the people, they would sleep on downy pillows!
It is reported that the disaffected flies are everywhere rousing the nation. One of them the Clarion, a clever musician, has composed a war march entitled, “The Roll Call of the Flies.” We can now hear the tones of this impious music floating over Paris. It is wafted from a thousand instruments at the Pantheon, the Val de Grace, the tour Saint Jacques la Boucherie, the Salpîtrière, the Père Lachaise, where the emissaries have been stationed by the leaders of the movement.
A number of prisoners have been arrested, but they refuse to disclose their principles.
EXAMINING THE FLY’S HEAD.
EXAMINING THE FLY’S HEAD.
“We are of snow-white purity!” say they. “Why should such innocents be arrested? Take our heads!”
“Your heads! what can we do with a fly’s head? Nevertheless we will consider this proposition.”
The pretensions of the rebels are now known, “the common good” serves them as a pretext for personal ambition and private hatred. Revolution means nothing more than the relinquishing of our posts to others who are not so well qualified to fill them. If we refuse to yield to their demands—as we intend to do—we are doomed, so they say. Our posts andemoluments will be sold with our lives! We owe this as a tribute to the animal kingdom.
For what are we reproached? Have we been unjust, or partial? Have we not followed our programme and printed all contributions without preference, or selection, blindly as every just editor ought to do? We are over head and ears in paper, knee deep in ink; we have burned the midnight oil, endeavoured to please everybody, entertained foes in the guise of friends, and in short, succeeded so well in our various duties as to secure the envy and hatred of an ungrateful rebel.
The chief of the insurrection is a Scarab! the Scarab Hercules! This is no doubt a very fine name for a leader. Have you made the acquaintance of this Scarab? We for our part might scorn the attacks of such a grovelling fellow, did we not know that the bite or sting of the meanest of God’s creatures is always most venomous and destructive.
“We have therefore pleasure unalloyed in issuing the followingorder:—
1st.A price is placed upon the head of the Scarab Hercules; a suitable reward will be paid to any one who will bring him dead or alive (we would prefer him dead).
2d.Measures will be immediately taken to raise a large body of troops; a force of nine hundred thousand flies fully equipped to fight the rebels in the field or in the air.
3rd.The commissioners of police are required to carry one or more lengths of rope as their means will permit.
4th.All honest subjects are required to remain at home, go to bed early, get up late, and to see or hear nothing. Such a line of conduct will prove to the rioters that their projects find no favour among slumbering citizens.
5th.Animals found in pairs, or in groups, shall be cooked, or dispersed by force. This notice concerns Ostriches, Ducks, gregarious and socially-disposed animals.
A Kite was sent to us bearing a flag of truce. We deigned to receive and listen to him. He said, “You, sirs, have spoken and managed affairs after your own fashion; now listen, we must each one have our turn. Over there, we number thirty three million free subjects, God’s creatures, and every one as ambitious as yourselves to make a stir in the world; to write and speak fearlessly, Equality is our divine right!”
“What is a right?” inquired an old Crow whose acquaintance thereader has already made, “summum jus, summa injuria! If you must all write, the folios of the whole world would not be sufficient to contain the manuscript, not even if each one restricted himself, not to his history, nor to a page, line, word, letter, or even a comma.”
This judicious refutation was deemed simply absurd, and the foolish Kite replied by asking another question. “That is enough! who endowed you with your power of reckoning? Has the God of Scarabs not made earth, sky, light, trees, and even leaves, that every one who has an equal stake, may have an equal share in all created things?”
O folly! the victory of such reasonable kites and scarabs is certain. Go back to your camp.
Alas! civil war is making its way into the most peaceful valleys. The spirit of revolt has spread from the insects to the birds, and even to the quadrupeds. Alarm is everywhere abroad. The doors of the cages have to be kept shut, a proceeding most galling to those animals who sit outside watching their neighbours. Let the peacefully disposed take courage, the geese are still guarding the capital.
The insurgents have replied to the articles of our journal, in a paper they have established, called “The Guardian of Freedom;” or, “Review of Animal Reform.”
Yesterday, the friends of liberty assembled in the Hall of Natural History, where stuffed animals are preserved.
This preliminary meeting was held at a late hour. One by one the members assembled, and silently exchanging tokens of recognition, seated themselves in the galleries opposite their preserved ancestors. The stillness was such, that one could hardly distinguish the dead from the living. The Elephant, Bear, Buffalo, Bison, and the Eagle all arrived at the same moment, as if drawn thither by some power supernatural. But who can deny that love of liberty moves mountains, and at once explains the presence of these noble beasts.
MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY.
“Brothers,” said an orator at last, “we have remained silent, and yet we know full well the cause of our meeting. Fellow elephants, apes, birds, and beasts! I crave your forbearance—(cheers)—while I point out to you the only true elements of reform. (Loud applause.) Our proceedings last year have let us in for a rather bad thing; the animals elected to edit our proceedings, and to conduct the affairs of our kingdom, have tampered with our liberty. Visit their chambers—there you shall behold histories without number, rejected and shelved; shelved to suit the editor’s caprices! (Cheers.) Many of the pages thus consigned tooblivion, are very mirrors of light and liberty that would have shed a glorious lustre over the ages. Ah! I see, in the cultured faces around, the lineaments of all that is noble and patriotic in the land! I hear in those deep drawn sighs, harrowing tales of genius neglected and suppressed by the jealousy of those who are set over us! (Thunders of applause.) I read the sentiments of true hearts, roused by oppression, in the fervour of your wagging tails and glorious gnashing of incisors! Brothers, let calm and tranquil sagacity resume its throne in your breasts, which are torn with righteous indignation! Listen—words must express pent-up thoughts! I must speak! you must act!! The course we are pursuing is leading us to ruin! What has the publication of our history done for us? For us? nay, not for us; for the few—the select favoured ones whose stories have appeared in its pages. What has it done for us? simply nothing. In these pages the wrongs of all, high and low, should find a place. Has it been so? I ask you. (Shouts of ‘No! no! no! down with the editors!’) Down with them! the tyrants!! they have abused the power we placed in their hands! served their friends, and calmly said, ‘All is well.’ What has come of it all? Has our world ceased to be a vale of tears? Have our homes been happier? Our prospects brighter? Has our fame been spread abroad? (‘The stag, elk, and calf, No! no!!’) Brothers, since that memorable night, when the first outcry for liberty and reform was hailed by the acclamations of the whole world, our rights and liberties have been systematically betrayed. We have been sold! sold!! sold to men!! (‘True, true! they sold us,!’) sold to men!!! But let us leave these inferior animals alone, they are not our worst enemies. Our leaders have betrayed us for a caress from their keepers, or a miserable subsidy of nuts and crusts. Whither shall we direct our steps? shall it be back to our narrow prisons, or lonely desert wastes? (All the animals, ‘Alas! alas!’) Will the clouds be our canopy and the earth our pillow? I tell you, friends, we shall all of us die in irons. (In chorus, ‘O misery, misery!’)”
The orator, turning towards the remains of countless generations of animals,continued—
“Remains of our illustrious ancestors, you who once lived and breathed. Miserable mummies! ghosts of all that is beautiful in our vitality and action. Did you voluntarily relinquish the care of the creator to play your part in this ghastly mimicry of life? Were we created to be stuffed and preserved in cases, side by side with the poorworks of man, in place of returning to your parent earth after fulfilling your destinies? Brothers, let us escape from men and the doom that awaits us. The way to liberty may be narrow and well-guarded; it is our only way! we must follow it, force the passes, water them with our blood, and gain the glorious grassy plains and wooded vales of freedom!”
If one may credit the report of this pompous oration, the effect it produced was perfectly marvellous. We need only notice one point in this wicked dithyrambic. You say, Mr. Bison, the speaker, that we have sold you—you are right we have sold you! and what is more we are proud of it! No less than 20,000 copies. Could you have done so much? You owe us your thanks for raising your market value.
The dean of the Jardin des Plantes—a venerable Buffalo—whose personal character we esteem, replied thus to his cousin theBison:—
“My children, I am the oldest slave in this garden, and have the sad honour of being your dean. Of my early days I have but a dim recollection, indeed I can only recall the days of my freedom. Sweet days they were, and in spite of my twenty odd years of bondage the young blood comes back to my heart as I reflect on the prospect of renewed liberty. (Cheers.) I speak of your liberty, my children, not of my own, for my eyes will close in death long before the dawn of that glorious day. Slave I have lived, and slave I shall die. (Shouts of ‘Long live the Buffalo.’) My good friends,” replied the speaker, “it is not in your power to add an hour to my life. It is not the selfish freedom of one, or of many, but of all that we must seek. I therefore beseech you to remain united. (Murmurs of dissent.) My children, do not plunge into the misery of civil strife. Do not cavil over the mean rags of power. When you have changed your one-eyed house for a blind mock, what benefit will the change confer? Think of the misery you may bring upon the poor and helpless ones, and how that a little power, more or less, vested in the hands of my hearers can never effect the good of all.”
The closing words of this speech were listened to coldly, the respect due to the speaker alone preventing a demonstration.
“Civil war leads to despotism and not to liberty,” said the dean, as he sadly resumed his seat.
“Are we here to listen to a sermon?” roared the Lynx.
A number of agitators followed. It is necessary here to remark thatthe more indifferent the cause to be advocated the greater the crowd of speakers.
The Boar proceeded to address the assembly in a flow of eloquence, until domestic duties called him to the bosom of his numerous family.
Here we end our quotations from the “Journal of Reform,” and in justice to the rioters, will conclude with a literal account of the proceedings, furnished by a Ferret who was present at the meeting.
“For three hours the rioters, irrespective of the place, or the sacred presence of the dead around, kept up an incessant thunder of inarticulate sounds, stamping, groaning, and applauding. Sixty-three speakers addressed the audience simultaneously. The result of this tumult of voices may be more easily imagined than described.”
Our correspondent adds: “The art of whistling and howling has made such astonishing progress among the audience as to suggest a mass meeting in England!”
One of those doubtful dogs who have no political opinions, and who are to be found in every popular assembly attempted to gain a hearing.
“If we are vanquished!” he said.
“Vanquished! bah! Out with the cur!” cried the Bear, with that air of brutality so peculiarly his own.
“Out with him!” growled the Hyena; “barking is not enough, we must bite!”
“Beware of the spy,” shrieked the Weasel.
The prudent brute waiting to hear no more, tucked his tail snugly between his legs and bolted through a window.
Here the Ram ventured to point out that the editors had gained the confidence of the people.
“Popularity is no proof of genius,” said the Wolf. “The people will forget their idols.”
“And hate them,” growled the Hyena.
“If they neglect their love, they will nurse their hatred!” hissed the Snake.
The Fox perceiving that unanimity of sentiment was hopeless, adjourned the meeting by proposing that the rioters should refresh themselves by a night’s repose. So they departed each one to his den, and there dreaming of reform and rapine, rose with the sun to renew the conflict. They awoke to arms and assaulted the amphitheatre. The onslaught was severe, and in our extremity we inquired for Prince Leo.
“They have taken the amphitheatre,” said that great general, “and what is more they shall keep it.”
The prince’s firm attitude proved reassuring, for this renowned tactician had taken timely measures to teach the traitors a terrible lesson. He shut them in and secured the approaches, so that the stronghold was like to become the tomb of the insurgents. All attempts to relieve their position were vigorously repulsed by Prince Humble-Bee.
An audacious Ape mounted the amphitheatre roof and raised the standard of revolt; while a Mole proposed to entrench the army within its hill. The proposal was negatived, as the position was deemed already too strong.
A celebrated engineering Spider offered to spin a suspension bridge over which the insurgents might escape during the night. To this the Fly objected, while the Elephant urged that the work should be at once proceeded with.
The extraordinary simplicity of this giant of the forest inspired oneof our friends with the idea for the following couplet, which we gladly insert (as it ought not to be lost to posterity), regretting, at the same time, that the gifted poet insists on remaininganonymous:—
AIR—“Femmes, voulez-vous éprouver.”“Un Éléphant se balançaitSur une toile d’Araignée;Voyant qu’il divertissait,Une Mouche en fut indignée:‘Comment peux-tu te rejouer,’Dit-elle, ‘en voyant ma souffranceAh! viens plutôt me soucourir,Ma main sera ta recompense.’ ”
AIR—“Femmes, voulez-vous éprouver.”
“Un Éléphant se balançaitSur une toile d’Araignée;Voyant qu’il divertissait,Une Mouche en fut indignée:‘Comment peux-tu te rejouer,’Dit-elle, ‘en voyant ma souffranceAh! viens plutôt me soucourir,Ma main sera ta recompense.’ ”
“Un Éléphant se balançait
Sur une toile d’Araignée;
Voyant qu’il divertissait,
Une Mouche en fut indignée:
‘Comment peux-tu te rejouer,’
Dit-elle, ‘en voyant ma souffrance
Ah! viens plutôt me soucourir,
Ma main sera ta recompense.’ ”
We secured a number of brave auxiliaries in the shrimps, who, headed by a valiant sea-crab, shouted, as they formed into marchingorder—
“Forward let us marchWith our backs upon the foe.”
“Forward let us marchWith our backs upon the foe.”
“Forward let us march
With our backs upon the foe.”
All good citizens were ordered to leave wife and children, and prepare to be everywhere at a moment’s notice, ready to fight for theircountry. Notwithstanding the happy stratagem which shut in the rebels, we were doomed to defeat. A company of the enemy’s flies, mechanics, were drafted to place the guns so as to command our position. The coolness of these creatures, foes though they were, won our admiration. They planted the weapons with an unconcern as complete as if preparing to storm the calix of a flower, while the result of their manœuvres soon told terribly on our left wing. Our swarms, impatient for the fray—displaying more valour than discretion—fell upon the foe in disorganised detachments. The right attacked the enemy’s left under the leadership of the Goliaths, but the light infantry under Prince Humble-Bee were as waves against a rock scattered in boiling foam. Our left was opposed by the mining, cutting, and carpentering Andrines, and the corporation of Rhinoceros-Beetles, who having only one horn, obeyed the mighty two-horned Stags. Flies, Moths, Grubs, and other insects attacked and routed our centre. Prince Humble-Bee calculated on the Rhinoceros-Beetles attacking his heavy troops, compelling them to traverse the field, separating the two armies; but the Beetle, who had been apprised of the plan of campaign by a deserter, commanded his troops to close their ranks and their wings, thus to await the enemy’s shock.
The colours floated in the wind, the sun shone brightly on the insects ranged in battle array, while martial music fired our foes withdesperate resolve. From time to time grains of balsam, projected into the air by Stag-Beetles with much precision, fell among our troops, exploding and scattering death and dismay around. The enemy’s forces stood firm as a rock. Our army, thoroughly demoralised, made a final attack, and were beaten off with great loss. Bruised wings, scattered mandibles and limbs impeded their movements, till at last they fell back in disorder. As a climax to our misfortunes, the general of the May Bugs, rolling over on his back, was pierced by the sting of a rebel Wasp. It was a lost battle—the Waterloo of our cause! Prince Humble-Bee, not caring to survive his defeat, plunged into the thick of the fray, when, after performing prodigies of valour, he died the death of the brave, pierced by twenty-nine wounds.