ic control to the one supreme authority. And the one
object for which he lives, and for which, let his lot have been cast in
whatever century it might, he would always have lived, is to rise, to
thrive, to prosper, and become great.

The world as he found it said to him--Prey upon us; we are your oyster,
let your wit open us. If you will only do it cleverly--if you will take
care that we shall not close upon your fingers in the process, you may
devour us at your pleasure, and we shall feel ourselves highly honoured.
Can we wonder at a fox of Reineke's abilities taking such a world at its
word?

And let it not be supposed that society in this earth of ours is ever so
viciously put together, is ever so totally without organic life, that a
rogue, unredeemed by any merit, can prosper in it. There is no strength
in rottenness; and when it comes to that, society dies and falls in
pieces. Success, as it is called, even worldly success, is impossible,
without some exercise of what is called moral virtue, without some
portion of it, infinitesimally small, perhaps, but still some. Courage,
for instance, steady self-confidence, self-trust, self-reliance--that
only basis and foundation stone on which a strong character can rear
itself--do we not see this in Reineke? While he lives, he lives for
himself; but if he comes to dying, he can die like his betters; and his
wit is not of that effervescent sort which will fly away at the sight of
death and leave him panic-stricken. It is true there is a meaning to
that word courage, which was perhaps not to be found in the dictionary
in which Reineke studied. 'I hope I am afraid of nothing, Trim,' said my
uncle Toby, 'except doing a wrong thing.' With Reineke there was no
'except.' His digestive powers shrank from no action, good or bad, which
would serve his turn. Yet it required no slight measure of courage to
treat his fellow-creatures with the steady disrespect with which Reineke
treats them. To walk along among them, regardless of any interest but
his own; out of mere wantonness to hook them up like so many
cock-chafers, and spin them for his pleasure; not like Domitian, with an
imperial army to hold them down during the operation, but with no other
assistance but his own little body and large wit; it was something to
venture upon. And a world which would submit to be so treated, what
could he do but despise?

To the animals utterly below ourselves, external to our own species, we
ho