The Zoologist/4th series, vol 6 (1902)/Issue 734/Erasmus as a Naturalist

by G.W. Murdoch

 

THE ZOOLOGIST

 

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No. 734.— August, 1902.

 

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ERASMUS AS A NATURALIST.

By G.W. Murdoch, Naturalist Editor of the 'Yorkshire
Weekly Post,' &c.

 

This article on Erasmus as a naturalist is based on the following works:—

'In Praise of Folly,' Reeves and Turner's edition, 1876.
'The Colloquies,' Bailey's Translation, 1725.
'Enchiridion Militis Christiani' (1515).
Nisard's 'Etudes sur la Renaissance' (1855).
Seebohm's 'Oxford Reformers' (1869).
'Life and Letters of Erasmus' (Longmans & Co.), for the loan of a copy of which I have to thank a distinguished brother naturalist.
By Sir Thomas More: 'Utopia' (English version, 1556). 'History of King Richard III.' (1513).
'Life of Sir Thomas More,' by his Son-in-law, William Roper (Singer's rare edition, 1817).
Stapleton's 'Tres Thomæ' (Douai, 1588), and 'The Life and Writings of Sir Thomas More,' by the Rev. T.E. Bridget, S.J., (London: Burns & Oates, 1891).

 

It will be observed that I have included several of Sir Thomas More's works, and I should have liked to have dealt with these illustrious authors jointly, for it is nearly impossible to separate them in their lives and works, as true naturalists, as unrivalled scholars, humanists, satirists, reformers of gross abuses, and mutually attached friends. That, however, would have extended this article to an inordinate length; and here I shall leave "Blessed Thomas More" with only one (but that a charming one) reference to that illustrious martyr as a genuine lover of a great variety of God's dumb creatures. It is from the pen of Erasmus himself, and forms part of a long letter (written in Latin, of course) to Ulrich von Hutten, a German noble, who had formed a very high opinion of More's genius from reading his 'Epigrams' and 'Utopia,' and was anxious to learn something about the personality of the author. The following is the passage pertinent to our subject (literal translation):—

"One of his great delights is to consider the forms, the habits, and the instincts of different kinds of animals. There is hardly a species of bird that he does not keep in his house, and rare animals, such as monkeys, foxes, ferrets, weasels, and the like. If he meets with anything foreign, or in any way remarkable, he eagerly buys it; so that his house is full of such things, and at every turn they attract the eye of visitors, and his own pleasure is renewed whenever he sees others pleased."

We have here a charming idea of More, and his writings bear ample testimony to the fidelity of the picture.

 

"Natural History" in the Age of Erasmus.

The literature of this subject is ample enough, but it is more entertaining than instructive, and I only make passing reference to it for the purpose of illustrating, by way of contrast, the scientific standpoint of Erasmus as a field-naturalist, and a really great observer, investigator, and theoriser on the every-day aspects and phenomena of animal and plant life. Erasmus was, of course, thoroughly familiar with the 'De Anima' of Aristotle, the 'Historia Naturalis' of Pliny, and, indeed, with probably all extant writings of the ancients that dealt directly with natural history, or indirectly with it in works of travel and geography. He probably also knew Bartholomew's 'Liber de Proprietatibus,' &c. (1479), 'Hortus Sanitatis' (1490), and a few other contemporary works, mainly borrowed from Pliny ("As Pliny saith"), with a vast amount of mediæval myth, descriptions of rare monsters, &c., added in all simple earnestness and unbounded credulity. It was not in a Gallio spirit that "he cared for none of these things"; he simply ignored them in his search after the truth as it is in nature, and some of his inductions came near the generalisation of facts as now accepted after more than five hundred years of observation, research, and even elaborate experimentation. For instance, we have had many books, brochures, magazine articles, &c., devoted to the subject of "animal instinct v. reason," and I would mention such standard works as 'Animal Behaviour' and 'Habit and Instinct,' by Principal Lloyd Morgan. It is now generally admitted that there is no definite dividing line between what is called "animal instinct" and human reason, however highly developed and widely contrasted may be the manifestations of the latter. Here is a passage from Erasmus's colloquy on "Amicitia" (Friendship), between Ephorinne and John (Erasmus himself), in which he endows a Monkey with quite superior reasoning (contrivance after reflection) powers. The spelling is given as in the 1725 edition of Bailey:—

 

Clever Tactics of A Monkey.

Joh.—That I may not be altogether Shot-free in this Entertainment, I'll tell you what I saw with my own Eyes, in the house of that famous Englishman Sir Thomas More: He kept in his House a large Monkey, who, that he might the sooner get well of a Wound he had received, was suffer'd to go loose. At the End of the Garden there were Rabbets kept in Hutches, and a Weesel used to watch them very narrowly. The Monkey sitting aloof off, quietly, as tho' unconcern'd, observ'd all his Motions, till he saw the Rabbets were in no Danger from him. But perceving the Weesel had loosened a Board in the back Part of the Hutch, and that now they were in Danger to be attack'd in the Rear, and so be made a Prey to their Enemy, the Ape runs, jumps up on the Plank, and put it into its former Place, with as much Dexterity as any Man could have done. From whence 'tis plain that Apes are great Lovers of this Animal. So the Coneys, not knowing their own Danger, that used to kiss their Enemy through the Grate, were preserved by the Monkey.

 

About Adders: Fact or Fable?

Dr. Leighton has taught us a great deal about Adders, &c., in his 'British Serpents,' and obscure points are being cleared up in the columns of 'The Field Naturalist's Quarterly,' which only shows that we do not yet know everything about the habits of a very common animal. Here is an extract from the same essay, which is very curious:—

Eph.—I saw once a very large and charming green Lizard fighting with a Serpent, at the entrance of a hole; I wondered at first what was the Meaning of it, for I could not see the Serpent; an Italien told me that the Serpent was within; by and by the Lizard comes to us, as it were showing us her Wounds, and begging a Remedy, and did not only suffer herself to be touch'd, but as often as we stood still she stood still, viewing us very earnestly. The Serpent had almost gnawed away one of her sides, and of green had made it red.

Joh.—Had I been there, I should have had a Mind to avenge the Lizard's Quarrel.

Eph.—But her Enemy had hid herself at the bottom of the Hole: But some Days after we had the Pleasure to see her revenge herself.

Joh.—I am glad at my Heart; but prithee how was it?

Eph.—We happened to be walking near the same Place, and the Serpent had been drinking at a spring hard by, for it was so violent hot Weather, that we were like to perish with Thirst. A Boy of about thirteen Years old, the Man's Son where we lodg'd, having fled from Bononia for Fear of the Pestilence, happen'd very luckily to come by, with a Hay-Rake upon his Shoulder; as soon as he saw the Serpent he cries out.

Joh.—Perhaps for Fear.

Eph.—No, for joy, rejoicing that he had found the Enemy. The Boy strikes him with the Rake, the Serpent rolls himself up; but he laid on, till having broke his Head, the Serpent stretched himself out, which they never do, but when they are dying; that's the Reason that you have heard the Apologist, concerning a Crab-Fish, who killing a Serpent that was his Enemy, when he saw him stretch'd out, says thus, You ought to have gone so when you were alive.

 

We have here a statement about a dying serpent (Adder) that is very suggestive. Whether the "stretching out" action is purely a muscular one, or one due to conscious volition—on the "feigning death" principle—I am not prepared to say; but this I do know, that some Adders act in that way if violently struck on the head. A good many years ago, when walking across Arran from Brodick to Loch Ranza, I and two friends (both still alive) encountered many Adders sunning themselves on the roads and roadsides, the weather being extremely hot. Several of these I "poked up" gently with my stick, and pitched into the grass or furze on the roadside. One large specimen, fully twenty inches in length, showed fight, and I gave it severe blows on the head and back. It stretched out, apparently stiffened and "dead." But it was not dead, for in a few minutes it recovered, and tried to escape, when another blow or two finished it off. I am inclined to think that the "stiffening" was due to muscular action produced by the stunning, not killing, blows.

 

Bird References by Erasmus.

These are scattered profusely throughout all his works, and are invariably free from myth or poetic fable, so beautifully employed by Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, and other great writers of the "Spacious Age of Great Gloriana of the West." Erasmus's references, in fact, are mainly those of a field-naturalist. No doubt, apart from his intuitive love of wild life, faunal and floral, his habits afforded him great scope for very varied observations. Erasmus was a great traveller, and he wandered leisurely on horseback in many lands near and far. In his day, too (1467?-1536), animal life (Feræ naturæ), even in this country, was exuberant, man's ingenious theories about "regulating the balance of nature" not having arisen, nor, indeed, for many years afterwards. Here are some of the bird references, taken almost "at random," from his great works, and even private letters to friends:—

 

"What place is for us where so many jackdaws cawing, and magpies chattering."

"Just like a bird in a cage; and yet, ask if it would be freed from it, I believe it will say, no. And what's the reason of that? Because it is bound by its own consent."

"Why, sir, are you not ashamed of it? No; no more than a Cuckoo is of his singing."

"Are you not ashamed, you sleepy sot, to lye-a-bed till this time of day? Good servants rise as soon as it is Day, and take care to get everything in order before their Master rises. How loth this drone is to leave his warm nest; he is a whole hour a scratching, and stretching, and yawning."

 

This passage stands in need of explanation. In Bailey's translation he, strange to say, uses the word "drone," whereas in the original colloquy it is "Cuckoo." The Rev. E. Johnson, M.A., who furnished notes to later editions of Bailey's translation, says it is used as "a classic term of reproach for what sailors call a 'lazy lubber.'" Pliny's explanation of it is that it was a mark of sloth if the vine-dresser delayed the work of pruning until the Cuckoo's note was heard, i.e. till after the spring equinox. Hence, by association of ideas, the passer-by would "slang" him as a Cuculus! (Pliny xviii. 26). This is a far-fetched explanation. The habit of the bird in laying in another bird's nest seems to be an adequate explanation of the use of the name as a synonym for sloth, drone, &c.

 

"This peace and quietness is owing to my (Folly) management, for there would otherwise be continual jars, and broils, and mad doings, if want of wit only did not at the same time make a contented cuckold and still house; if the Cuckoo sing at the back door, the unthinking cornute takes no notice of the unlucky omen of others' eggs being laid in his own nest, but laughs and kisses his dear spouse, and all is well."

"What, are you an Augur then?

"Yes, I am.

"Pray by what Auguries do you prognosticate all this? What hath the night Owl appeared lucky?

"She flies for fools."

 

Erasmus has many references to Owls, and, as in the above, mainly of a classical and mythical character, allusions only made to turn the myths into ridicule. He was too sound a naturalist to believe in the old Owl myths, of which many are still preserved in classic literature, folk-lore, and even in immortal poetry: —

 

"Hark! Peace! It was the Owl that shriek'd,
⁠The fatal bellman which gives the stern'st good night."

"The Owl shriek'd at thy birth, an evil sign."

⁠"The Screech-owl, screeching loud,
⁠Puts the wretch, that lies in woe,
⁠In remembrance of a shroud."

I have marked many passages in the works of Erasmus, all bearing directly on phenomena of natural history; also in the works of his friend Sir Thomas More, of ever blessed memory; but in the meantime the above must suffice.