Read Pyg Online

Authors: Russell Potter

Pyg (23 page)

In the calm retreat of our corner table, with no sound other than that of the proprietor washing out the stoups, the world seemed almost
too
quiet, and I wondered whether I would miss the
sound of Applause, and the noise of a crowd astounded at my feet. It gave me a curious feeling to
Reflect
on my long career upon the Stage, whence I had been thrust at such a Tender age,
that I could scarcely imagine a life without it. To most who have lived their entire lives in the Public Eye, such a thought may well seem
Impossible
, for they have come to feel fully alive
only in the glow of those delightful
Beams
of adulation, the loss of which would bring on a fearful Darkness. And yet I was unlike them: an
Actor
may play many parts, however briefly
he struts upon the Stage; a
Musician
can learn to play other sorts of Songs; a
Conjuror
is always learning and perfecting new Tricks, as an
Acrobat
new stunts and
routines—whereas my one real
Act
was my mere Existence, and my demonstration extended only so far as to prove that I possessed those capacities common in Man, but so rare among
Pigs
. Thus I reasoned that, for me, the retirement from my theatrical role was—in a manner profound and strange—never really possible: whether Reading at my leisure, attending a
Lecture, or simply patching a torn spot on my Waistcoat, whether seen by a crowd or by a single
Observer
, I was, so long as I lived, condemned to a sort of
Perpetual
display. Truly,
for me, all the world
was
a stage, and there could be no exit from the latter, until I departed the Former.

This given, I reflected, I would, by pursuing my studies, at least improve my private capacity for enjoyment, whereas to make any alteration in my outward life would be far more difficult.
Indeed, there was only one manner in which I could shuffle off my status as a Freak of Nature, and it was the one thing I dreaded most: to shed my singularity and return to the common multitude of
pigs,
sans
education,
sans
waistcoat and—ultimately—
sans
self. So, from that time forward, I resolved to devote myself to study, and to learning as much as was
possible, given the more modest span of life allotted my
Race.

And so my learning began in
Earnest.
Through the kindness of Dr Cullen, I removed to a small room in a building directly adjoining the Surgeons’ Hall. From there,
without assistance, I could navigate the corridors that would bring me to Lecture-hall and Library, and—by means of a small Lift or ‘dumb-waiter’—descend to the ground
floor, and thence make my way to any of the neighbouring buildings. Of the fact that I could manage all this on my own, I was justly proud but, never the less, Dr Cullen insisted that Jamie be
lodged in an adjoining room, and ready to assist me whenever I required it—and to this I consented, for he was as kind-hearted and reliable a lad as any I had known; he reminded me very much
of
Sam
when he was younger, save that when he Spoke his words came out in softly bristled Scots brogue.

Being under the immediate tutelage of Dr Cullen, I began with a course in Chemistry, of which he was past professor; the current holder of that Chair, Mr Joseph Black, was a good friend of his
and proved a ready teacher. I attended his Lectures twice weekly, as well as attending his Tutorials, in company with several other Undergraduates, in his chambers, which were just down the hallway
from my Own. At the same time, I undertook a course in Natural History under Professor
Walker
, another close colleague of my mentor’s. This difficult and extensive Subject was carried
forth over both terms, moving from
Meteorology
,
Hydrology
and
Geology
in the first, to
Minerals
,
Plants
and, finally,
Animals
in the second half of the
year. I was thus obliged to save my favourite subject for Last, but I was not disappointed: Professor Walker was, by that time, sufficiently impressed with my Abilities that he proposed revising
the entire Taxonomy of
Linnaeus
, removing Pigs entirely from the family
Bestiae
and placing them alongside Man in a new grouping,
Animalæ rationis
, which I felt showed a
remarkable insight and ability to adapt to new Knowledge.

In the year following, I studied Literature and
Belles Lettres
with Professor William Greenfield, successor to the brilliant Hugh Blair, by whose work the reputation of this fairly
novel
field of Enquiry had been very much advanced. Alongside this, I pursued the subject of Moral Philosophy with Dugald Stewart. Stewart was a far harder man to please: his entire course
concerned the ‘moral powers of man’, and he was quite bitterly disinclined to so much as acknowledge my presence in the lecture-hall. From his tutorials I was utterly excluded, and it
was only through the offices of a kindly fellow-student that I was able to obtain notes of these meetings, which enabled me to pass his course. He held throughout to his view that ‘animals,
considered individually, discover but a small degree of sagacity’, although he was latterly persuaded to add that they ‘make some small acquisitions by experience, as sufficiently
appears, in certain tribes, from the sagacity of old, when contrasted with the ignorance of the young; and from the effects which may be produced on at least
some
of them, by discipline and
education’. I like to think that it was on
My
account that he added this last sentence, but our relations, alas, were never as cordial as those with my other Professors.

At last, these courses of my education Done, I was ready to sit for my examinations, and apply for matriculation as a Bachelor of
Arts
. In preparation, I did much as my human fellows did,
burning the ‘midnight oil’ in great quantities, and taking part with several of my fellow-students in the mock-examinations and Interrogations with which we did our best to anticipate
our final Test. Finally, the day came, and I was very nearly in a Panic, when I found that the Hall where the examinations were to be held could only be entered by a very steep flight of Steps,
which it surpassed the ability of my short legs to Ascend. I could not help thinking of poor Dr Johnson in his last
Infirmity
, unable to enter the Bodleian—and then, just as I was on
the Precipice of Despair, there was Jamie to help me
Up
. I took my place in the very back row just as the great Bell rang, which announced that the doors must be closed. As had been
previously arranged, I had a special
Examiner
to give me my questions, who then transcribed my answers, which I spelt out as fast as ever I could. It took me until the very instant of the
closing bell, by which time I was quite overcome with Nervous exhaustion, and barely able to waddle out of the Hall.

I slept for nearly fourteen Hours that night, with (or so I was later told) both Sam and Jamie ministering at my side, concerned for my safety in such a State—but Dr Cullen reassured them
that such a Rest was entirely natural, given my circumstances. When I awoke, I was at first quite groggy as to my surroundings, and it seemed to me that the faces of my Friends only gradually
emerged out of a veritable Porridge of blurred and fragmented Forms. After taking a small Breakfast, I felt at once
Revived
, as if I had been recalled, Lazarus-like, from the Realms of the
Dead, and took a stroll out upon the Balcony, which overlooked the great City of Edinburgh with all its wide Environs. Whatever might come next, I resolved then and there that I would Remain here,
in the midst of this vast and variegated City from which I had received my greatest Welcome.

The very next day, I was visited at an unusually early Hour by no less than Dr Cullen himself. In his hand he held a beribboned Scroll, which I knew must contain the results of
my Examination, for which I trembled in my very Soul. It was not for Myself that I feared—I would get on well enough, with or without any great
Credentials
—but for my Friends,
who had laboured so dearly on my Behalf, and granted me such an array of Advantages, that I would be very deeply ashamed to
Disappoint
them. I quickly took up my letters, and spelt out my
fearful query:

H-A-V-E I P-A-S-S-E-D.

‘Have you passed?’ echoed Dr Cullen. ‘My dear Toby, you must know that we could not hold you in any higher Regard, whatever the result of your examination. But here I must tell
you that the Result of your efforts has been something so Unusual that I scarcely know how to communicate it.’

U-N-U-S-U-A-L, I spelt, with excruciating slowness.

‘Toby, according to the Examiners for Degrees in the Faculty of Arts, you have earned not only a passing mark, and not only the designation
primi ordinis
, but the highest score of
your entire class, entitling you to the degree of Bachelor of Arts
cum laude
.’

They tell me that, upon receipt of this News, I suddenly
Fainted
, but I can only relate that when I Awoke, some uncertain time later, I was by any measure the happiest Pig on
Earth
.

 

18

I
t has been some years now since the experiences recorded in the precedent pages, and although in that time my travels have been entirely of the
Interior
variety, I am confident that they have been just as extensive—if not more so—than any I undertook in my early days as a peripatetic Pig, for whom the
Road
was
more home than any settled place.
Musco lapis volutus haud obvolvitur
, as Publilius Syrus says—moss covers not the moving stone!—but a great deal can be gained without the least
Motion
, though moss may have its day. In the years that have followed my journeys, I have had both time and
Cause
for reflection, both upon my own life and the far stranger Lives of
the creatures I have found myself among—those known as ‘
Homo sapiens
’—that is, reasoning Man—or, as Dean Swift far more wisely preferred, ‘
Homo
rationis capax
’—man
capable
of Reason, but who all too often eschews his capacity and revels in his own
Filth
far more deeply than he supposes
Pigs
do.

Having completed my degree at the University of Edinburgh, I thought myself as capable, if not more so, than any Man in comprehending the ways of this wide and Troublesome world, in which so
great a portion of Things to come is left to
Chance
. I read, of course, the daily papers, but took most pleasure in continuing my Literary and Philosophical studies, within which I
discovered many of the curious mechanisms of Man, which are devoted (if I may say so) far more to making his actions
seem
reasonable, than to actually making them so. I travelled widely in
the works of Hobbes, and sojourned with Swift in his
Gulliverian
mode; with Pope I devoured his Essay on
Man
, and accompanied Smollett on the road in company with Peregrine
Pickle
and Humphry
Clinker
.

Other books

Mahabharata: Vol. 5 by Debroy, Bibek
The Devil’s Share by Wallace Stroby
Growing Pains by Emily Carr
The Book of Q by Jonathan Rabb
The Siren of Paris by David Leroy