|Cloudless Sulphur in my asters.|
The first paragraph below is from Clough, the second from Evans. This is one for the office door, I think, since it details a court case in 1545 in which weevils were put on trial, and had a court-appointed lawyer. I like the way the judge decides that the earth is not for us only, but also for the weevils:
“One example will serve to indicate the seriousness with which the court proceedings against animals were taken. Evans records the case of the wine-growers of St Julien in 1545, who complained that weevils were ravaging their vineyards. The official, François Bonnivard, heard the arguments of Pierre Falcon for the plaintiffs and Claude Morel in defence of the weevils, before deciding to issue a proclamation rather than passing sentence. The proclamation was as follows:
“Inasmuch as God, the supreme author of all that exists, hath ordained that the earth should bring forth fruits and herbs not solely for the sustenance of rational human beings, but likewise for the preservation and support of insects, which fly about on the surface of the soil, therefore it would be unbecoming to proceed with rashness and precipitance against the animals now actually accused and indicted; on the contrary, it would be more fitting for us to have recourse to the mercy of heaven and to implore pardon for our sins.” (Clough, p. 110; citation from Evans, 38-39; boldface emphasis is mine.)This is a reminder that while theology can have terrible consequences, theologies and other stories we tell about ourselves can have fascinating, helpful, and thought-broadening consequences as well. Here the story of creation is deployed to remind us that we are not sole masters of the world. God is invoked as creator of everything to insist that the world is there for God - and so for everything God made - and not just for us. The world is, apparently, even there for the insects. Haldane's famous quip about God's "inordinate fondness for beetles" finds serious support here.