“A resigned elementary teacher, who naturally does not know much, but who has asked himself this question, ‘Why is it that animals possess à priori the special science of their lives called instinct, while man learns nothing without extraordinary toil?’ ”
“Because science is in its infancy!” exclaimed the adventurer. “Have you ever studied ‘Puss in Boots’?”
“I used to tell it to my pupils when they had been good.”
“Well, my dear sir, it points the line of conduct for all to follow who wish to succeed. What did the cat do? He told every one that his master possessed lands; he was believed. Do you understand that it is enough to make known that one is, one has, one intends to have? What does it matter, if you have nothing, if others believe that you have all?”
“But ‘væ soli!’ says the Scripture. In fact, in politics, as in love, two are better than one. You have invented Instinctology, and you shall have a chair of Comparative Instinct; you shall be the great modern sage, and I shall announce it to the whole world—to Europe, to Paris, to the Minister, to his secretary, his clerks and supernumeraries. Mahomet became a prophet, not because he was gifted with prophetic inspiration, but because his followers proclaimed him prophet.”
“I am quite willing to become a great savant,” said my master resignedly, “but I shall be asked to explain my theories.”
“What! would it be a science if you could explain it?”
“Yet a point to start from will be necessary.”
“Yes,” replied the young journalist, “we ought to have some animal that would upset all the theories of our learned men. Baron Cerceau, for example, has devoted his life to placing animals in absolute divisions. That is his plan, but now other great naturalists are knocking down all the strongholds of the Baron. Let us take part in the war of words and hypothetical ideas. According to us, instinct will be the leading feature in animals, by which alone, according to the degree of instinct, they must be classified. Now, although instinct will submit to infinite modifications, it is nevertheless still one in its essence, and nothing can prove the unity of all things better than this. We shall thus say there is only one animal, as there is only one instinct, the instinct which characterises all animal organisations. The, so to speak, appropriation of the element of life which circumstances change without affecting the principle. We come in with a new science opposed to the Baron, and in favour of the new school of philosophy which advocates zoological unity. We shall no doubt sell our discoveries in a good market; our opponents must buy us up.”
“Well,” said Marmus, “science has no conscience. But shall I have no need of my donkey?”