SIR ROGER L'ESTRANGE [Roger L'Estrange was born in 1616. In the great Rebellion he narrowly escaped the gallows for his loyalty to the King, and upon the Restoration was rewarded by the office of Licenser of the press. Thenceforward he took an active part in political controversy, writing innumerable pamphlets, and conducting more than one journal, notably the Observator. After the Revolution he applied himself no less heartily to more serious literature, and translated the history of Josephus, Æsop's Fables, Cicero's Offices, Seneca's Morals, and other works. He died in 1704.] To the business of the pamphleteer L'Estrange brought excellent natural parts, uncommon zeal, and indefatigable industry. But his tracts were necessarily written with no thought of the morrow, and being calculated to serve a purely temporary purpose, they are, at the best, only good journalism, and so have shared the oblivion which overtakes all that is merely journalism and nothing more. L'Estrange's importance as a writer depends, therefore, not upon the fact that he was the first English professional journalist with any pretension to letters, but, upon the qualities which distinguish his translations, and particularly his version of Æsop, where he allowed himself a very free hand. There is, indeed, to be found in all an easy flow of essentially modern prose, free from elaboration and conceit; but in the Esop there is something more than simplicity and directness. There are a humour, a vivacity, an irresistible spirit and gusto, which combined with an inimitable vocabulary and the happiest gift of expression, make it a singularly entertaining and delightful book. L'Estrange has been accused of corrupting the language, and certainly he was not in the habit of inquiring too closely into the parentage or the associations of any term that seemed to him either striking or appropriate. But in literature we are to judge by results, and here the result is plainly a style so idiomatic, so pungent, and so telling as completely to justify his audacity. The flat-nosed, hunch-backed, blubber-lipped, big-bellied, baker-legged Æsop; the wife of Xanthus, horribly bold, meddling and expensive, easily put off the hooks and hard to be pleased again; the kite who comes powdering down on the frogs and mice; the lark who goes out progging for food for her little ones; the snake lazing at his length in the gleam of the sun; the weasel who tried what she could do with her wits when she could live no longer upon the square;—these and a thousand other vivid and surprising turns of phrase must delight all but the purist as surely as they demonstrate the possibility of a literary employment of "slang" which, if attempted by any but an artist, would result in nothing save imbecility, vulgarity, and nonsense. J. H. MILLAR. THE FOX AND THE RAVEN A CERTAIN fox spied out a raven upon a tree with a morsel in his mouth, that set his chops a watering; but how to come at it was the question. Oh thou blessed bird! (says he) the delight of gods, and of men! and so lays himself forth upon the gracefulness of the raven's person, and the beauty of his plumes; his admirable gift of augury, etc. And now, says the fox, if thou hadst but a voice answerable to the rest of thy excellent qualities, the sun in the firmament could not show the world such another creature. This nauseous flattery sets the raven immediately a gaping as wide as ever he could stretch, to give the fox a taste of his pipe, but upon the opening of his mouth he drops his breakfast, which the fox presently chopt up, and then bade him remember, that whatever he had said of his beauty, he had spoken nothing yet of his brains. THE MORAL There's hardly any man living that may not be wrought upon more or less by flattery: for we do all of us naturally overween in our own favour: but when it comes to be applied once to a vain fool, it makes him forty times an arranter sot than he was before. (From Æsop's Fables translated.) THE DAW AND BORROWED PLUMES A DAW that had a mind to be sparkish, tricked himself up with all the gay feathers he could muster together: and upon the credit of these stolen, or borrowed ornaments, he valued himself above all the birds in the air beside. The pride of this vanity got him the envy of all his companions, who upon a discovery of the truth of the case, fell to pluming of him by consent; and when every bird had taken his own feather, the silly daw had nothing left him to cover his nakedness. THE MORAL We steal from one another all manner of ways, and to all manner of purposes; wit, as well as feathers; but where pride and beggary meet, people are sure to be made ridiculous in the conclusion. (From the Same.) THE FOX AND THE SICK LION A CERTAIN lion that had got a politic fit of sickness, made it his observation, that of all the beasts in the forest, the fox never came at him: And so he wrote him word how ill he was, and how mighty glad he should be of his company, upon the score of ancient friendship and acquaintance. The fox returned the compliment with a thousand prayers for his recovery; but as for waiting upon him, he desired to be excused; for (says he) I find the traces of abundance of feet going in to your majesty's palace, and not one that comes back again. THE MORAL The kindness of ill-natured and designing people should be thoroughly considered, and examined, before we give credit to them. (From the Same.) THE APE AND THE DOLPHIN PEOPLE were used in the days of old to carry gamesome puppies and apes with them to sea, to pass away the time withal. Now there was one of these apes, it seems, aboard a vessel that was cast away in a very great storm. As the men were paddling for their lives, and the ape for company, a certain dolphin, that took him for a man, got him upon his back, and was making towards land with him. He had him in a safe road called the Piræus, and took occasion to ask the ape, whether he was an Athenian or not? He told him, yes, and of a very ancient family there. Why then (says the dolphin) you know Piræus: Oh! exceedingly well, says t'other (taking it for the name of a man) why Piræus is my particular good friend. The dolphin, upon this, had such an indignation for the impudence of this Buffon-ape, that he gave him the slip from between his legs, and there was an end of my very good friend, the Athenian. THE MORAL Bragging, lying, and pretending, has cost many a man his life and estate. (From the Same.) 2 Q VOL. II |