I have studied many philosophers and many cats. The wisdom of

Hear the paradoxical yet luminous words of Hippolyte Taine: “I have studied many philosophers and many cats. The wisdom of cats is infinitely superior.” At once it sounds like jest, a playful comparison of scholars to animals. Yet beneath the humor burns an ancient truth: that the wisdom of living beings, who embody simplicity, instinct, and harmony with nature, often surpasses the tangled arguments of men who live too much in thought and too little in life. The cat, in its quiet independence, its serenity, and its unshakable presence, teaches lessons no parchment scroll can contain.

The ancients themselves revered animals as vessels of truth. The Egyptians worshiped the cat as a guardian of the home, a symbol of grace and mystery, a companion of the goddess Bastet. To them, the cat was not lesser than man, but a reflection of the divine. Taine, centuries later, echoes this ancient reverence when he declares that cats embody a wisdom deeper than the philosophers’. For while philosophers argue about virtue, existence, and the nature of peace, the cat lives it—sleeping without regret, hunting without hesitation, and resting in contentment.

Consider the philosophers of Greece, who sought happiness through moderation, reason, or pleasure. The Stoics taught the endurance of hardship, the Epicureans the pursuit of simple joy. Yet in the cat, these doctrines are not spoken but lived. The cat endures cold nights and scarcity with quiet strength, yet stretches luxuriously in the warmth of the sun. It does not hoard, does not rush, does not torment itself with regret or dread. It embodies Stoic resilience and Epicurean delight without needing to write a single line of theory. In this, we see why Taine proclaimed its wisdom “infinitely superior.”

There is also a lesson here in humility. Men boast of their learning, their philosophies, their grand systems of thought. Yet how often do these systems crumble in the face of real life? Wars are fought in the name of philosophy, debates rage endlessly, and still the soul remains restless. The cat, indifferent to such disputes, knows peace in the moment, loyalty when it chooses, and freedom always. Its wisdom is silent but unshakable, and those who watch closely may find it a clearer guide than entire libraries of words.

Let us recall also the tale of Michel de Montaigne, who often wrote of his cat. He wondered: “When I play with my cat, who knows if I am not a pastime to her more than she is to me?” In this reflection, Montaigne recognized the equality and depth of animal wisdom. Like Taine, he saw in the cat not just a creature to be studied, but a mirror that revealed the foolishness of man’s pride and the richness of simpler ways of being. The cat’s gaze unsettled him because it reminded him of truths beyond human arrogance.

The lesson for us is clear: do not despise the silent teachers of life. Study, yes, the philosophers, for their thoughts sharpen the mind. But also study the creatures around you, for they sharpen the soul. Learn from the cat how to rest without guilt, how to live without endless striving, how to savor the present moment with grace. Learn independence, patience, and serenity from their example. In doing so, you may discover that true wisdom is not always written in books, but lived quietly in fur and breath.

So let Taine’s words echo through time: “The wisdom of cats is infinitely superior.” Take them not as mockery of human thought, but as an invitation to balance it with the wisdom of life itself. Live not only in theory, but in being. Watch the creatures of the earth, and learn from their harmony with creation. For in their silence may lie the truths that philosophers spend lifetimes seeking, and in their presence, the peace that men have always longed to find.