ABSTRACT

Towards the end of his Essais, 2, 11, 1 Montaigne shows his compassion for animals, demanding a different attitude towards them, with the argument that there exists 'un certain respect qui nous attache, et un general devoir d'humanité, non aux bestes seulement, mais aux arbres mesmes at aux plantes'· He immediately follows this with a personal confidence, including a number of erudite references:

Je ne crains point á dire la tendresse de ma nature si puerile que je ne puis pas bien refuser á mon chien la feste qu'íl m'offre hors de saison ou qu'il me demande. Les Turcs ont des aumosnes et des hospitaux pour les bestes. Les Romains avoient un soing public de la nourriture des oyes, par la vigilance desquelles leur Capitole avoit esté sauvé; les Athéniens ordonnerent que les mules et mulets qui avoyent servy au bastiments du temple appelé Hecatompedon fussent libres, et qu'on les laissast paistre par tout sans empeschement. (Montaigne 1962: 414)

[Nor shall I be afraid to confess the tenderness of my nature so childish, that I cannot well refuse to play with my dog, when he the most unseasonably importunes me so to do. The Turks have alms and hospitals for beasts. The Romans had public care to the nourishment of geese, by whose vigilance their Capitol had been preserved. The Athenians made a decree that the mules which had served at the building of the temple called Hecatompedon should be free and suffered to pasture at their own choice, without hindrance]

Perhaps today's reader might feel closer to the personal confession here than to the historical and literary references describing the respect of other cultures towards certain animals. This confidential tone, which occurs with such frequency in Montaigne, is not found in Quevedo, despite his great admiration for the Frenchman. However, we do find in Quevedo indirect arguments against the death of animals and the deterioration of the natural environment. The defence of this is based on moral grounds, and derives not from any piety towards animals and plants but from a disapproval of the avarice and greed of men, the consequences of which can be perceived in nature. What moves Quevedo, then, is the satire of customs, not what we would today call ecological concerns. Nevertheless, in a way different from Montaigne, more cerebral than affective, he arrives at conclusions which partially coincide.