The names to which they now answered were not, however, the names that were first given them.  The influence of each one’s career upon his nature brought about a new name and a new reputation; for Caesar’s nature was improved and strengthened by the life he led, whilst Lurcher’s was made more and more despicable by a degraded existence.  A scullion named him Lurcher; but the other dog received his noble name on account of his life of high adventure.  He had held many a stag at bay, killed many a hare, and otherwise risen to the position of a Caesar among dogs.  Care was taken that he should not mate indiscriminately, so that his descendants’ blood should not degenerate.  On the other hand, poor Lurcher bestowed his affections wherever he would and his brood became populous.  He was the progenitor of all turn-spits in France; a variety which became common enough to form at last a race in themselves.  They show more readiness to flee than to attack, and are the very antipodes of the Caesars.

We do not always follow our ancestors, nor even resemble our fathers.  Want of care, the flight of time, a thousand things, cause us to degenerate.

Ah! how many, Caesars, failing to cultivate their best nature and their gifts, become Lurchers!

XXIII

DEMOCRITUS AND THE PEOPLE OF ABDERA

(Book VIII.—­No. 26)

How I have always hated the opinions of the mob!  To me, a mob seems profane, unjust, and rash, putting false construction on all things, and judging every matter by a mob-made standard.

Democritus had experience of this.  His countrymen thought him mad.  Little minds!  But then, no one is a prophet in his own country!  The people themselves were mad, of course, and Democritus was the wise man.  Nevertheless the error went so far that the city of Abdera[6] sent a messenger to the great physician Hippocrates, requesting him both by letter and by spoken word to come and restore the sage’s reason.

“Our citizen,” said the spokesman with tears in his eyes, “has lost his wits, alas!  Study has corrupted Democritus.  If he were less wise we should esteem him much more.  He will have it that there is no limit to the number of worlds like ours and that possibly they are inhabited with numberless Democrituses.  Not satisfied with these wild dreams, he talks also of atoms—­phantoms born only in his own empty brain.  Then, measuring the very heavens, though he remains here below to do it, he claims to know the universe; yet admits that he does not know himself.  Time was when he could control debates, now he mutters only to himself.  So come, thou divine mortal, for the patient’s case is a bad one.”

Hippocrates, though he had little faith in these people, went nevertheless.  Now mark, I beg of you, what strange meetings fate may bring about in this life!  Hippocrates arrived just at the time when this man, who was supposed to have neither sense nor reason, happened to be searching into a question as to whether this very reason was seated in the heart or in the head of men and beasts.