{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_60874/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_60874","id":"gutenberg_60874","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60874","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Fables, Greek -- Adaptations"],"text":"BEWICK\u2019S SELECT FABLES.\n\n\n \u201cIs not the earth\n With various living creatures, and the air\n Replenished, and all those at thy command\n To come and play before thee? Knowest thou not\n Their language and their ways? They also know,\n And reason not contemptibly: with these\n Find pastime.\u201d\u2014_Paradise Lost_, b. viii. l. 370.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_The above appeared on the titles of both the 1776 and 1784 editions of_\n\u201cSELECT FABLES,\u201d _T. Saint, Newcastle-upon-Tyne_.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n Bewick\u2019s Select Fables\n _OF \u00c6SOP AND OTHERS_.\n\n In Three Parts.\n\n _I. FABLES EXTRACTED FROM DODSLEY\u2019S._\n _II. FABLES WITH REFLECTIONS IN PROSE AND VERSE._\n _III. FABLES IN VERSE._\n\n TO WHICH ARE PREFIXED\n\n _THE LIFE OF \u00c6SOP, AND AN ESSAY UPON FABLE\n BY OLIVER GOLDSMITH._\n\n _Faithfully Reprinted from the Rare Newcastle Edition published\n by T. SAINT in 1784._\n\n With the Original Wood Engravings by Thomas Bewick,\n AND AN\n Illustrated Preface by Edwin Pearson.\n\n [Illustration]\n\n LONDON:\n BICKERS & SON, 1 LEICESTER SQUARE, W.C.\n\n PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY\n EDINBURGH AND LONDON\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Thomas Bewick\n\n_Engraver on Wood._\n\n_Ja\u02e2. Ramsay Pinx\u1d57._ _Henry Hoppner Meyer Sculp\u1d57._]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE TO 1871 EDITION.\n\n\nIn the various periods of the world\u2019s history men have appeared who were\ngifted with greater powers of mind and intelligence than the majority\nof the people in whose age they lived, who, by becoming the preceptors\nor teachers of the masses, evidently fulfilled the designs of the\nCreator, by promoting civilisation and happiness, by unity of thought and\nknowledge. Such men were \u00c6sop, William Shakespeare, Fielding, Scott, and\nmany others, and later, in our own time, Thackeray and Charles Dickens.\nOne of the most ancient and interesting methods of conveying instruction\nwas by the art of Fable, Allegory, or Parable.\n\nFable is an ingenious method of conveying advice and instruction, without\nseeming so to do, by a diverting little narrative, which, attracting\nattention, irresistibly chains it till the moral is imperceptibly\nrooted in the mind, there to influence, for the _better_ it may be,\nall future actions of importance. _\u00c6sop_ was, and _is_, the most\nfavourite of Fabulists, of whom a fair and goodly succession have since\nappeared; but still _he_ maintains, and will continue to maintain the\nforemost place in literature as a writer of instructive and entertaining\nFables. We here reprint an edition comparatively unknown in the present\ngeneration, illustrated by the graver of Bewick, and arranged by the pen\nof Goldsmith. Bewick and Goldsmith\u2019s _early_ works are _comparatively_\nunknown to the literary and reading world. We all know that Bewick\n_designed_ and _engraved_ the inimitable \u201cBritish Quadrupeds,\u201d \u201cBirds,\u201d\n\u201cFables,\u201d &c., and that Goldsmith wrote the \u201cVicar of Wakefield,\u201d\n\u201cTraveller,\u201d \u201cDeserted Village,\u201d &c., but what do we know of their\n_early_ works\u2014the _progressive steps_ by which they attained their\nwondrous and _well-earned_ celebrity? It has been the pleasing pursuit of\nthe writer (for some years) to search for, and rescue from destruction\nand oblivion, all possible _early_ works of Bewick and Goldsmith. The\nresult has exceeded his most sanguine expectations. He has discovered at\nleast _twenty_ little works written by Goldsmith during his _weary_ hours\nof adversity, all bearing _strong_ internal evidence of the author\u2019s\nmind and style. (A work on this subject is preparing for the press,\nprofusely illustrated with original woodcuts, &c.) The early editions of\nthe _present_ work were printed by T. Saint, of Newcastle-upon-Tyne.\nWe will here give a very brief _resum\u00e9_ of Bewick\u2019s _earliest_ works\n(published by Saint), with a few woodcuts from the _original_ blocks,\nthus illustrating the _progressive_ _stages_ of pictorial fine art by\nwhich Thomas Bewick succeeded in producing the wood-engravings which\nembellish the _present volume_, of which (edit. 1784) Jackson, in his\nwork on wood-engraving (1861, p. 480), says:\u2014\n\n\u201cHe (Bewick) evidently improved as his talents were exercised; for the\ncuts in the \u201cSelect Fables,\u201d 1784, are generally much superior to those\nin \u201cGay\u2019s Fables,\u201d 1779. The animals are better drawn and engraved;\nthe sketches of landscape in the backgrounds are more natural; and the\nengraving of the foliage of the trees and bushes is not unfrequently\nscarce inferior to that of his later productions.\u201d\n\nJackson gives _three_ examples of these Fable cuts in his work, at pp.\n480, 503 (\u201cWood-Engravings,\u201d 1861). Thomas Bewick was apprenticed to\nR. Beilby, October 1, 1767. It is probable that the cuts given in next\npage are among the _very first_ engraved by Thomas Bewick during his\napprenticeship, and were used in \u201cA New Invented Horn Book,\u201d also in\n\u201cBattledores,\u201d \u201cPrimers,\u201d and \u201cReading Easies.\u201d He then executed the\ndiagrams for Hutton on Mensuration, 4to, 1770. One of the cuts is given\nin \u201cJackson\u201d (p. 475), a representation of St Nicholas\u2019 celebrated\nsteeple. This is the first _known_ pictorial attempt of Bewick\u2019s.\n\n[Illustration: \u201cHorn Book\u201d Cuts.]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration: Facsimile of Bewick\u2019s cut, St. Nicholas\u2019 Steeple,\nNewcastle, 1770.]\n\nNo doubt coarse cuts were done by Bewick about this time for _local_\nBallads, Broadsides, Garlands, and Histories.\n\nThe next recognised work _I discovered myself_, the \u201cNew Lottery-Book of\nBirds and Beasts, for Children to learn their Letters by, as soon as they\ncan speak\u201d (Saint, 1771, 32mo, bds. and gilt). Two of the cuts follow.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe \u201cChild\u2019s Tutor\u201d (Saint, 1772-73, square 24mo), cuts, with _verses_,\n&c., by Oliver Goldsmith. The following is undoubtedly by the Poet\u2019s\nhand:\u2014\u201cThe Lilliputian Magazine; or, the Young Gentleman and Lady\u2019s\nGolden Library, being an attempt to mend the World, to render the Society\nof Man more amiable, and to establish the Plainness, Simplicity, Virtue,\nand Wisdom of the Golden Age, so much celebrated by the Poets and\nHistorians\u2014\n\n \u2018Man in that age no rule but Reason knew,\n And with a native bent did Good pursue;\n Unforc\u2019d by Punishment, unaw\u2019d by Fear,\n His Words were Simple and his Soul Sincere.\u2019\u201d\n\n(T. Saint, _circa_ 1772, _early_ Bewick woodcuts, 144 pp. 24mo.) The\nverse and title bear the _undoubted impress_ of his genius and style.\nOliver Goldsmith wrote it for J. Newbery, of London, but, as I shall show\nin my larger work on this subject, there was an arrangement between them\nby which Saint reprinted many of his (Newbery\u2019s) little books for the\nNorth-Country trade. We then have \u201cMoral Instructions of a Father to his\nSon,\u201d comprehending the whole system of Morality, &c., &c.; and \u201cSelect\nFables,\u201d extracted from Dodsley, and others, _adorned with emblematical_\ncuts, 12mo, T. Saint, Newcastle, 1772 and 1775. This, then, is one of the\n_first_ works of Saint\u2019s we have seen containing cuts of Fables.\n\nHaving a doubt respecting the cuts of this rare book, I took my\ncopy to Miss Bewick (Jan. 1867), and inquired of her if they _were_\nengraved by her father. She kindly gave me the following _authentic\ninformation_:\u2014\u201cThe cuts _were_ engraved by Thomas Bewick in the first\nyear of his apprenticeship (1767-68), excepting the cut of a ship at sea,\np. 167. This was engraved by David Martin, Bewick\u2019s fellow-apprentice,\nBewick at this time disliking to represent \u2018water.\u2019\u201d This, then, sets all\ndoubt at rest respecting the cuts in an \u201c\u00c6sop\u2019s Fables,\u201d \u201cGay\u2019s Fables,\u201d\n&c., &c., published by Saint about this date, in which the _same_ and\nsimilar cuts were used. The following, used in \u201cGay,\u201d is evidently\nBewick\u2019s first attempt at the subject for which he afterwards gained a\npremium.\n\n[Illustration: \u201cMoral Instructions,\u201d 1772, and \u201cSelect Fables,\u201d 1776.]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration: \u201cSelect Fables,\u201d \u00c6sop, &c. (Saint, 1776).]\n\nThe next is the _first_ edition of the _present volume_, \u201cSelect Fables\u201d\n(T. Saint, Newcastle, 1776). In three Parts. Part I. After the Manner of\nDodsley\u2019s. Part II. Fables with Reflections. Part III. Fables in Verse.\nTo which are prefixed the Life of \u00c6sop; and An Essay upon Fable\u2014(_same\nVerse and Vignette, as in the 2d Edition, of 1784_). Containing one\nhundred and fourteen cuts, _including_ those mentioned in the \u201cMoral\nInstructions,\u201d _described above_, and fourteen larger and much superior\ncuts, _with borders_, afterwards used with others in \u201cGay\u2019s Fables,\u201d\nprinted by T. Saint, in 1779. The same vignette appears on the title as\nin the Second Edition of this Book in 1784. It also has a copperplate\nfrontispiece, \u201cR. Beilby delint. et sculpt.\u201d 12mo, 211 pages, 2 pages\nof Index, &c. (notice the _variations_ in the _title_, &c., to the 1784\nedition). The only copy of this edition (1776) I ever had, or saw, is now\nin the unique collection of E. B. Jupp, Esq., who has kindly lent the\nblock for the Frontispiece to the present Edition. It was engraved for\n\u201cThe Beauties of \u00c6sop\u201d (Kendal, _circa_ 1800-22), by Thomas Bewick, and\nis somewhat like Beilby\u2019s copperplate frontispiece to 1776 Edition, but\ninfinitely _improved_. It contains about seventy delineations of animal\nand bird life, &c. (see the tailpiece at page 122 of _present_ edition,\nextremely like in arrangement, execution, &c.), while the portrait of\n\u00c6sop is certainly the most _reasonable_ I have yet seen in examining the\n_numerous_ editions which have passed through my hands.\n\nAbout this time, 1773 to 1776, many works issued from Saint\u2019s\npress\u2014\u201cRobinson Crusoe,\u201d \u201cWatt\u2019s Songs,\u201d Oliver Goldsmith\u2019s \u201cTommy Trip\u201d\n(see my reprint, of 1867), \u201cGoody Two Shoes,\u201d \u201cGolden Toy or Fairing,\u201d\n\u201cTom Telescope\u2019s Newtonian Philosophy,\u201d \u201cTommy Tagg\u2019s Poems,\u201d and\n_numerous_ others. Examples of cuts follow.\n\n[Illustration: Similar to \u201cTommy Trip\u201d series of Cuts.]\n\n[Illustration: \u201cTommy Two Shoes.\u201d]\n\n[Illustration: \u201cAdventures of a Kitten.\u201d]\n\n[Illustration: \u201cHoly Bible in Miniature.\u201d]\n\n[Illustration: \u201cMemoirs of a Peg-Top.\u201d]\n\n[Illustration: \u201cPoetical Fabulator.\u201d]\n\n[Illustration: A New Edition of \u201cTommy Tagg,\u201d with sixty cuts, will\nshortly be printed. (Specimen of the Woodcuts.)]\n\n[Illustration: \u201cThe Concert of Birds,\u201d from \u201cTommy Tagg.\u201d]\n\n[Illustration: \u201cStory-Teller.\u201d]\n\nWe now reach a period to which Bewick himself thus refers at pages 59,\n60 of his \u201cMemoirs\u201d (Longman, 1862):\u2014\u201cWe were occasionally applied to by\n(local) printers to execute woodcuts for them.... Orders were received\nfor cuts for Children\u2019s Books, chiefly for Thomas Saint, printer,\nNewcastle, and successor of John White, who had rendered himself famous\nfor his numerous publications of histories and old ballads.... My time\nnow became greatly taken up with designing and cutting a set of wood\nblocks for the \u2018Story-Teller,\u2019 \u2018Gay\u2019s Fables,\u2019 and \u2018Select Fables,\u2019\ntogether with cuts of a similar kind for printers.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe following are among those referred to by Bewick:\u2014\u201cYouth\u2019s Instructive\nand Entertaining Story-Teller, being a Choice Collection of Moral Tales,\nChiefly deduced from real Life, calculated to enforce the Practice of\nVirtue, and expand every social Idea in the Human heart. Adorned with\nemblematical cuts from the most interesting part of each Tale, and\nmethodised after the Plan recommended by the late ingenious Dr Goldsmith.\nTo which is added, by way of Preface, Thoughts on the Present Mode of\nEducation.\u201d (Newcastle, T. Saint.) Three Editions, _circa_ 1774-7-8,\n12mo, thirty-seven woodcuts. The cuts in this book are larger than any\nin the preceding books. We give the cut at page 48 of a Shipwrecked\nSailor kneeling on a rock saying his prayers, the tide rising around\nhim, which is the _first and earliest_ engraving of this subject by T.\nBewick, afterwards one of his favourite Vignettes in the \u201cBritish Birds.\u201d\nThe others are all about the size of the cuts in \u201cGay\u2019s Fables,\u201d 1779, or\n\u201cSelect Fables,\u201d 1784, and have similar borders.\n\n[Illustration: \u201cBob Easy.\u201d]\n\n[Illustration: \u201cThe Huntsman and Old Hound.\u201d]\n\n\u201cJackson\u201d refers to this and the following two works:\u2014\u201cGay\u2019s Fables.\u201d\nFables by the late Mr Gay, in One Volume complete, Newcastle, printed by\nand for T. Saint, 1779, 12mo, _77 cuts of Fables, with borders and 33\nVignettes_; for the tasteful and clever engraving of five of the cuts\n(one, the Huntsman and Old Hound[1]) the Royal Society of Arts presented\nBewick with their medal; _it is further embellished with a beautifully\nengraved Frontispiece, by R. Beilby_ (T. Saint, Newcastle, 1779). We\ngive an impression of the _original_ wood-engraving, exceedingly\ninteresting, as now Bewick seems to have received the required impetus or\nencouragement to produce the engravings for \u201cSelect Fables,\u201d T. Saint,\n1784. In three parts. Part I. Fables extracted from Dodsley\u2019s; Part II.\nFables, with Reflections in Prose and Verse; Part III. Fables in Verse;\nto which are prefixed the Life of \u00c6sop, and an Essay upon Fable, A New\nEdition Improved. For this edition a _new set of cuts_ was engraved by\nThomas Bewick. \u201cThese cuts were then deemed superior to any of Bewick\u2019s\nprevious productions.\u201d The same year another impression of this work\nwas printed with the same title page, but considerable variations in\nthe letterpress, and vignettes occur at pages 122, 125, and 152, which\nare not in the former edition, printed in 1784, 12mo. This is the book\nwe now reprint (Saint\u2019s collection of Bewick\u2019s blocks having passed\ninto my hands.) An original copy of the 1784 edition in fine state is so\nrare, that a copy has realised, at auction, \u00a37, 10s. Bewick says (p. 60,\n\u201cMemoir,\u201d 1862): \u201cSome of the Fable (\u201cGay,\u201d 1779) cuts were thought so\nmuch of by my master (Beilby), that he, in my name, sent impressions of a\nfew of them to be laid before the Society for the Encouragement of Arts,\n&c., and I obtained a premium.\u201d (Seven guineas, which he took intense\npleasure in presenting to his mother.) We have thus, by easy stages,\ntravelled through the various phases of talent, to the most important\nwork produced before his _well-known_ \u201cBritish Quadrupeds,\u201d first\npublished 1790; \u201cBritish Birds,\u201d 1797, 1804; and his _large_ edition of\n\u201c\u00c6sop\u2019s Fables,\u201d 1818 (each work embellished with his inimitable and\never-pleasing vignettes). Examples from all these works follow.\n\n[Illustration: \u201cThe Chillingham Wild Bull.\u201d\u2014Bewick\u2019s _large_ engraving of\nthis subject, with border, has realised twenty guineas. _See_ \u201cJackson on\nWood-Engraving.\u201d]\n\n[Illustration: British Quadrupeds.]\n\n[Illustration: Vignette to \u201cQuadrupeds.\u201d]\n\n[Illustration: \u201cSelect Fables,\u201d 1820, Charnley\u2019s Edition, 8vo, and in\nearly Children\u2019s Books (Saint, Newcastle).]\n\n[Illustration: Intended for \u201cBewick\u2019s British Birds\u201d\u2014\u201cChimney Swallow,\u201d\ninjured and rejected.]\n\n[Illustration: Facsimile of Bewick\u2019s Skylark.]\n\n[Illustration: Vignette to \u201cBirds.\u201d\u2014Angler and Sportsman.]\n\n[Illustration: Engraved for \u201cBewick\u2019s \u00c6sop,\u201d 1818, unfinished and\nrejected.]\n\n[Illustration: Vignette to \u201c\u00c6sop.\u201d]\n\nThese remarks are rapidly written, but they are the result of years\nof research and study: so that the reader of this Preface has a brief\n_resum\u00e9_ of Bewick\u2019s talents from his _earliest efforts_ to his most\nfinished productions; a _result_ which no one living is able to give from\nthe _original woodcuts_ but myself; thus forming a most useful manual or\npictorial _aid_ to connoisseurs in selecting _early_ works illustrated by\n\u201cBewick,\u201d the more _valuable_, as scarcely any of the works mentioned as\npublished by Saint are in the British Museum.\n\nNow, as to the \u201cGoldsmith\u201d interest as connected with this work, the\n1776 Newcastle edition was evidently copied from \u201cDodsley\u2019s\u201d and other\neditions of \u201cSelect Fables of \u00c6sop\u201d published in London prior to this\nperiod. In the meantime, J. Newbery and others, for whom Goldsmith wrote\nprefaces and arranged and edited books, had published new editions, so\nthat when Saint went to press with \u201cA New Edition Improved\u201d (with a new\nset of cuts by the Bewicks), evidently the book was remodelled and\nextended from one that Goldsmith had just edited. In Dodsley\u2019s Preface\nto his Fables, he says \u201che has been assisted in it by gentlemen of the\nmost distinguished abilities; and that several, both of the old and the\nnew Fables, are not written by himself, but by authors with whom it is\nan honour to be connected.\u201d Dodsley also refers to the Life of \u00c6sop,\n&c., as being written by \u201ca learned and ingenious friend.\u201d Doubtless Dr\nJohnson and Goldsmith were the \u201cauthors,\u201d and Goldsmith the \u201cfriend,\u201d\nhere referred to. Be that as it may, the present work bears sufficient\ninternal evidence in the \u201cEssay on Fable,\u201d the \u201cPoetical Applications,\u201d\nand the \u201cFables in Verse,\u201d that Oliver Goldsmith was the author; for it\nis identical in style with numerous prefaces and essays written about\nthis period by Oliver Goldsmith for Newbery, Dodsley, Griffiths, and\nothers. Much conclusive evidence on this interesting subject will be\ngiven in my new book on \u201cThe early works of Bewick and Goldsmith\u201d (a\nProspectus of which will shortly be issued). The applications to this\nedition are infinitely superior to any edition which had appeared prior\nto its publication. In Sir Roger L\u2019Estrange and Croxall\u2019s editions, the\napplications were warped away from their original and intended effect\nby political distortions and obsolete terms, which often strayed far\nfrom, instead of assisting, the subject. It is somewhat refreshing,\nthen, in the edition here reprinted, to meet with some applications\nwhich are everything that could be desired, in easy, naturally flowing,\nand apt language, just to the point; and who was so much a master of\nsuch language as Oliver Goldsmith?\u2014of whom Dr Johnson said, \u201cHe left\nno species of writing unadorned.\u201d It may be interesting here to quote\nfrom Bewick\u2019s Memoir of himself (not published till 1862), his opinion\nof this book, which at once justifies the parent, preceptor, or friend,\nin selecting this as a most _suitable_ present for the young of both\nsexes; he says (pages 172-3):\u2014\u201cI was extremely fond of that book (\u2018\u00c6sop\u2019s\nFables\u2019); and as it had afforded me much pleasure, I thought, with better\nexecuted designs, it would impart the same kind of delight to others that\nI had experienced from attentively reading it. I was also of opinion,\nthat it had (while admiring the cuts) led hundreds of young men into the\npaths of wisdom and rectitude, and in that way had materially assisted\nthe pulpit.\u201d\n\nThe lessons intended to be conveyed through the medium of Fable are\ncertainly plainer and easier to be understood in this edition than in\nthe once popular \u201cCroxall;\u201d and the publishers believe, therefore, that\nthe book in its present form will be found a powerful auxiliary in the\nimportant practical feeling for the education of the rising generation,\nillustrated as it is by the early but forcible and natural rendering of\nthese Fables by the inimitable Bewick, through the medium of which is\nimparted the profound good sense, wisdom, and experience of the ancient\nphilosophers. I have already exceeded the limits of an ordinary Preface.\nOn a future occasion I will endeavour to show how _coincidently_ Bewick\nand Goldsmith worked together to produce results\u2014the importance of which\ncan scarcely be fully estimated. I will now conclude with one of those\nexquisite little pictures of nature that will never cease to exhibit the\ntrue art of pleasing as long as \u201cthe language of England is spoken, or\nher literature cultivated.\u201d\n\n EDWIN PEARSON.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n \u201cSay, should the philosophic mind disdain\n That good, which makes each humble bosom vain?\n Let school-taught pride dissemble all it can,\n These _little things_ are great to _little man_.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE LIFE OF \u00c6SOP.\n\n\n\u00c6sop, according to the best accounts, was a native of Phrygia, a province\nof the _Lesser Asia_, and born in the city Coti\u00e6um.[2] He was a person\nof a remarkable genius, and extraordinary character; for though he was\nborn a slave, by the assistance of his _genius_ and _virtue only_, he\nprocured his own emancipation. By his sage counsels and judicious advice\nhe directed his countrymen to measures that secured their liberty, and\nby a single Fable baffled the tyrannical projects of Cr\u0153sus, King of\nLydia. The most part of writers agree that his person was but unseemly,\nthough there are some of a contrary opinion.[3] It is probable that he\nwas of a low and diminutive stature, though agreeable in his complexion,\nand polite in his manners. It is, however, certain that he had a great\nsoul, and was endowed with extraordinary mental qualifications; his\nmoral character approached to a degree of perfection to which very few\nhave attained. He appears to have had a true sense of morality, and a\njust discernment of right and wrong; his perceptions and feelings of\ntruth were scrupulously nice, and the smallest deviation from rectitude\nimpressed his mind with the greatest antipathy. No considerations of\nprivate interest could warp his inclinations so as to seduce him from\nthe paths of virtue; his principles were stedfast and determined, and\ntruly habitual. He never employed his great wisdom to serve the purposes\nof cunning; but, with an uncommon exactness, made his understanding a\nservant to truth. Historians have given many instances of his wit and\nshrewdness, which were always employed in the service of _virtue_,\n_philanthropy_, and _benevolence_.\n\nIt cannot well be ascertained who were his parents, though some have\naffirmed that his father was a shepherd.[4] He himself was undoubtedly\na slave; his first master was an Athenian, whose name was Caresias.\nAt Athens he learned the Greek language in perfection, and acquired a\ntaste for writing moral instructions, in the way of Fables, which was\nthen the prevailing mode of teaching morals in Attica. His Fables are\nallegorical stories, delivered with an air of fiction, under various\npersonifications, to convey truth to the mind in an agreeable manner. By\ntelling a story of a _Lion_, _Dog_, or a _Wolf_, the Fabulist describes\nthe manners and characters of men, and communicates instruction without\nseeming to assume the authority of a master or a pedagogue. \u00c6sop\u2019s\nsituation as a slave might suggest this method to him; for what would\nhave been scornfully rejected if delivered in an authoritative style by\na slave, was received with avidity in the form of a fable.\n\n\u00c6sop had several masters; his second master was Xanthus, in whose service\nhe discovered great wisdom and sagacity in answering questions, and\nreconciling differences. By the following stratagem he made his master\u2019s\nwife return back, after she had run away and left him, and effectually\nreconciled them: our Fabulist, then a slave, went to the market, and\nbought a great quantity of the best provisions, which he publicly\ndeclared were intended for the marriage of his master with a new spouse.\nThis report had its desired effect, and the matter was amicably composed.\nThe story of his feast of _Neat Tongrege_, and his answer to a gardener,\nare scarcely worthy of relating. At a feast made on purpose to celebrate\nthe return of his master\u2019s wife, he is said to have served the guests\nwith several courses of tongues, by which he intended to give a moral\nlesson to his master and mistress, who had by the too liberal use of\ntheir tongues occasioned the difference which was now agreed.\n\nThe third master of \u00c6sop was Idmon, who was surnamed the wise. Idmon was\nan inhabitant of the island of Samos. During \u00c6sop\u2019s servitude with this\nmaster, he had a fellow-servant called Rhodopis, who some affirm was his\nwife.[5] This does not at all appear credible, for there is no mention\nmade of this among the Greek writers. This Rhodopis became afterwards\nvery famous for her riches, and was celebrated all over Greece. Idmon\nis said to have been so well pleased with \u00c6sop, that after he had been\nsome time in his service, he emancipated him, and made him free. With the\nenjoyment of liberty, he acquired new reputation, and became celebrated\nfor his wisdom. He is by some compared to the Seven Sages of Greece,\nand accounted their equal in wisdom. He had the honour to be acquainted\nwith Solon and Chilo, and was equally admitted with them in the Court\nof Periander, the King of the Corinthians, who was himself one of the\nSages of Greece. He was much esteemed by Cr\u0153sus, King of Lydia, and\nreceived into his Court at Sardis. During his residence at Sardis, he\ngave proofs of his sagacity which astonished the courtiers of Cr\u0153sus.\nThis ambitious Prince having one day shewn his wise men his vast riches\nand magnificence, and the glory and splendour of his court, asked them\nthe question, whom they thought the happiest man? After several different\nanswers given by all the wise men present, it came at last to \u00c6sop to\nmake his reply, who said: _That Cr\u0153sus was as much happier than other\nmen as the fulness of the sea was superior to the rivers._ Whether this\nwas spoken ironically or in earnest does not appear so evident; but\naccording to the severe morality of \u00c6sop, it would rather appear to be\na sarcasm, though it was otherwise understood by the King, and received\nas the greatest compliment. It wrought so much upon his vanity, that he\nexclaimed: _The Phrygian had hit the mark._ One thing which renders it\nprobable that \u00c6sop flattered Cr\u0153sus on this occasion is his conversation\nwith Solon, who at this time departed from the court of the King of\nLydia. When they were upon the road, \u00c6sop exclaims: _O Solon! either we\nmust not speak to Kings, or we must say what will please them._ Solon\nreplied: _We should either not speak to Kings at all, or we should give\nthem good advice, and speak truth._ This seems to be one instance in\nwhich \u00c6sop is charged with flattery and dissimulation. Some writers\npraise him for his complaisance to so great a Prince; but it is rather\na proof of his policy than his ordinary strictness and integrity. There\nis another instance recorded by some writers of the life of \u00c6sop, of his\ncomplaisance to Princes, even contrary to the liberties of the people.\nHe is said to have written a Fable in favour of the tyrant Pisistratus,\nwhich Ph\u00e6drus has translated, and proves that he was reconciled to\ntyranny. But this is no way evident. There are many Fables which are\nmingled with those of \u00c6sop, which are not his, yet have been fathered\nupon him; and it is not consistent with the other parts of his character\nand writings to suppose that he would either flatter tyrants or defend\nthem. The authorities from whence these supposed facts are taken are not\nto be depended upon.\n\nIn all other particulars he appears to have proceeded upon the principles\nof wisdom, as far as any of the Sages of Greece. When he was asked by\nChilo, one of the wise men, _What God was doing?_ He replied, with great\nadroitness, _That he was humbling the proud and exalting the humble._\nHe had just views of human nature, and assigned true reasons for\nall its Ph\u00e6nomena. In an account of the paintings in the time of the\nAntonines, Philostratus informs us, that there is one of \u00c6sop which makes\na principal figure. The painter represents him before his own house,\nwith the geniuses approaching him with a sort of adulating pleasure as\nthe inventor of Fables: they are painted as adorning him with wreaths\nand chaplets of flowers, and crowning him with olive branches. His\ncountenance appears in a smiling attitude, while his eyes seem fixed\ntowards the ground, as if composing a Fable, with the same gaiety and\ngood humour with which he usually wrote. There is a group of men and\nbeasts placed around him, and amongst the rest the Fox, which makes a\ncapital figure, as he does in the Fables. This picture does not represent\n\u00c6sop in a decrepit form, but sets him forth with a mixture of gravity\nand good humour. The image of his mind is well drawn by Plutarch in his\n_Feast of the Sages at the court of Periander_, who himself was one of\nthe Seven. It was at this feast that \u00c6sop repeats his Fable of _The Wolf\nand the Shepherds_, to shew that the company were guilty of the same\nfault. From Plutarch\u2019s account it is manifest that \u00c6sop\u2019s conversation\nwas pleasant and witty, but yet delicate. He was satirical without\ndisobliging, and the poignancy of his wit was smoothed with good nature\nand good sense.\n\nThe writer of his life prefixed to Dodsley\u2019s Fables compares him to Dean\nSwift, but with very little propriety; for he has a delicacy in all his\nwit which the Dean of St Patrick\u2019s was a total stranger to; and, what is\nmore strange, he had nearly as much Christianity.\n\nIt has been doubted if he was the inventor of Fables; but it is certain\nhe was the first that brought that species of writing into reputation.\nArchilochus is said to have written Fables one hundred years before\nhim;[6] but it would appear that those stories were not written for\nposterity like those of \u00c6sop. The Fables of \u00c6sop were written in prose,\nthough the images that are in them afford good scope for a poet, of which\nPh\u00e6drus has given an elegant specimen. \u00c6sop writes with great simplicity,\nelegance, and neatness; the schemes of his Fables are natural, the\nsentiments just, and the conclusions moral. Quintilian recommends his\nFables as a first book for children;[7] and, when Plato had sent all the\npoets into exile, he allows \u00c6sop a residence in his commonwealth.[8] The\nAthenians were good judges of literary merit, and erected a noble statue\nfor \u00c6sop, to perpetuate his memory, which was sculped by the famous\nLysippus.\n\nThe great excellency of \u00c6sop\u2019s manner of writing is, that he blends the\npleasing and the instructive so well as to instruct and please at once.\nHorace is much indebted to him for a plan of writing, and has formed a\nrule from this famous Fabulist:\n\n Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci;\n Lectorem delectando, pariterque monendo.\u2014_De Arte Poet._ ver. 343.\n\nI wish I could conceal the exit of this great Fabulist and Moral Writer.\nHe was accused by the Delphians of sacrilege, and convicted by an act of\nthe greatest villany that ever was invented. They concealed among his\nbaggage, at his departure, some golden vessels consecrated to Apollo,\nand then dispatched messengers to search his baggage. Upon this he was\naccused of theft and sacrilege, condemned, and precipitated over a rock.\nThus ended the famous \u00c6sop, whose Fables have immortalised his memory,\nand will hand down his name to the latest posterity.\n\n\n\n\nAN ESSAY UPON FABLE.\n\n\nFable is the method of conveying truth under the form of an Allegory. The\nsense of a Fable is entirely different from the literal meaning of the\nwords that are used to compose it; and yet the real intention thereof is\nvisible and manifest, otherwise the Fable is not well composed. The sense\nof a Fable of the moral kind ought always to be obvious at first view,\nthat the instruction intended to be given may have as early an effect as\npossible.\n\nThe chief thing to be considered in a Fable is the _action_, which\nconveys the moral or truth designed for instruction. There ought only to\nbe one action in a Fable, which must appear through the whole; otherwise\nit will be liable to admit of different interpretations, and be the same\nas a riddle, and have no effect. _Clearness, Unity, and Probability_,\nare incidents essentially necessary in a moral Fable. If a Fable be not\nso plain as to point out the sense of the writer clearly, but admit of\ndifferent interpretations, it does not answer the true design thereof.\nIf the incidents tend to convey different ideas, then the reader will\nbe at a loss to understand the chief intention of the author. All the\nvarious incidents ought manifestly to unite in one design, and point\nout one clear and perspicuous truth. Many of the modern Fables labour\nunder this defect; the incidents do not manifestly tend to point out the\nmoral. Fontaine\u2019s Fable of the two pigeons, and Croxall\u2019s story of the\ncoach-wheel, are of this sort.\n\nThe incidents of a Fable ought also to have _a real foundation in\nnature_. This rule may be infringed by ascribing to creatures appetites\nand passions that are not consistent with their known characters. \u201cA Fox\nshould not be said to long for Grapes.\u201d[9] The rule of Horace will hold\nuniversally\u2014\n\n Sed non ut placidis c\u0153ant immitia: non ut\n Serpentes avibus geminentur, tigribus agni.\n Delphinum Sylvis appingit Fluctibus aprum.\u2014HORACE, I. 13.\n\n To join the wild with creatures that are tame,\n Serpents with birds, or tygers with the lamb,\n Paint whales in woods, and wild boars in the sea,\n Ah, what a motley piece the whole would be!\n\nCreatures different in their nature must not be associated in a just\nFable. The Lamb must not be made to travel with the Fox, nor the Wolf and\nthe Sheep to feed or associate together; for all this is unnatural, and\ncan never be rendered a _probable_ object of belief. The incidents in a\nFable ought also to be few, lest by crowding circumstances too close, the\nwhole appear confused, and perplex the mind.\n\nThe next thing to be considered in Fable is the _imagery_ or\n_characters_; these may either be men, beasts, or inanimate beings.\nAll these have been introduced by the ancient Fabulists. In all\npersonifications the rules of analogy are to be observed; in those things\nwherein man and other creatures have no similitude, no true image can be\nformed in what respects human society. The persons and characters assumed\nin Fables, ought therefore to have a likeness to the things to which they\nare compared. All nature may serve to furnish a Fabulist with machinery.\nMountains, rivers, trees, animals, and even invisible powers may answer\nhis purpose; but, in the use of all sorts of machinery, a proper regard\nmust always be held to analogy. When language is attributed to animals,\nthey must not be made to speak in a style which bears no similitude to\nsome property in their nature; an owl must not be made to sing like a\nnightingale; nor should a raven be made the symbol of an orator. When\nbeasts are made the representations of men, there ought always to be\nsomething in their nature that bears a similitude to their character. The\nsame may be said of things inanimate; a strong man may be compared to a\nmountain, but it would be preposterous to make the same comparison of a\ndwarf. Vices and virtues ought in the same manner to be delineated in\nFable; a proud man may be compared to a high hill, a humble person to a\nlow valley. This is authorised by the writings of the Old Testament: _The\nhigh mountains shall be brought low, and every valley shall be exalted._\n\nWhen human actions are attributed to invisible powers, or especially to\nthe Deity, they ought to be such as are worthy of those ideas which are\ngenerally received concerning him. In this, Homer is very faulty; for he\nexalts his men almost to Gods, and brings down his Gods to the level of\nbeasts.\n\nAs for the style of Fable, simplicity is the greatest excellence; that\nfamiliar manner of speech in which we converse is best suited for the\npurposes of Fable. This manner of writing is more difficult to attain\nthan is generally imagined; it requires a particular taste, and is harder\nto imitate than the sublime itself. The style of a Fable must always be\nadapted to the characters which are introduced: for it would be absurd\nto make the eagle speak in the same style with the bat; or the King of\nthe forest express himself in the language of the mouse. But in all these\nparticulars, nature will be the best guide; and where this is deficient,\nno art can supply the want of it.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nFABLES, _&c._\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE I._\n\nThe Miller, his Son, and their Ass.\n\n _\u2019Tis better to pursue the dictates of one\u2019s own reason, than\n attempt to please all mankind._\n\nA Miller and his Son were driving their Ass to market, in order to sell\nhim: and that he might get thither fresh and in good condition, they\ndrove him on gently before them. They had not proceeded far, when they\nmet a company of travellers. Sure, say they, you are mighty careful of\nyour Ass: methinks, one of you might as well get up and ride, as suffer\nhim to walk on at his ease, while you trudge after on foot. In compliance\nwith this advice, the Old Man set his Son upon the beast. And now, they\nhad scarce advanced a quarter of a mile farther, before they met another\ncompany. You idle young rogue, said one of the party, why don\u2019t you get\ndown and let your poor Father ride? Upon this, the Old Man made his Son\ndismount, and got up himself. While they were marching in this manner,\na third company began to insult the Father. You hard-hearted unnatural\nwretch, say they, how can you suffer that poor lad to wade through the\ndirt, while you, like an alderman, ride at your ease? The good-natured\nMiller stood corrected, and immediately took his Son up behind him. And\nnow the next man they met exclaimed, with more vehemence and indignation\nthan all the rest\u2014Was there ever such a couple of lazy boobies! to\noverload in so unconscionable a manner a poor dumb creature, who is far\nless able to carry them than they are to carry him! The complying Old\nMan would have been half inclined to make the trial, had not experience\nby this time sufficiently convinced him, that there cannot be a more\nfruitless attempt than to endeavour to please all mankind.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE II._\n\nThe Fox and the Bramble.\n\n _We should bear with patience a small evil, when it is\n connected with a greater good._\n\nA Fox closely pursued by a pack of dogs took shelter under the covert of\na Bramble. He rejoiced in this asylum, and for a while was very happy:\nbut soon found, that if he attempted to stir, he was wounded by thorns\nand prickles on every side. However, making a virtue of necessity, he\nforbore to complain; and comforted himself with reflecting, that no\nbliss is perfect; that good and evil are mixed, and flow from the same\nfountain. These briars indeed, said he, will tear my skin a little, yet\nthey keep off the dogs. For the sake of the good, then, let me bear the\nevil with patience: each bitter has its sweet, and these brambles, though\nthey wound my flesh, preserve my life from danger.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE III._\n\nThe Butterfly and the Rose.\n\n _We exclaim loudly against that inconstancy in another to which\n we give occasion by our own._\n\nA fine powdered Butterfly fell in love with a beautiful Rose, who\nexpanded her charms in a neighbouring parterre. Matters were soon\nadjusted between them, and they mutually vowed eternal fidelity. The\nButterfly, perfectly satisfied with the success of his amour, took a\ntender leave of his mistress, and did not return again till noon. What!\nsaid the Rose, when she saw him approaching, is the ardent passion you\nvowed so soon extinguished? It is an age since you paid me a visit. But\nno wonder: for I observed you courting by turns every flower in the\ngarden. You little coquet, replied the Butterfly, it well becomes _you_,\ntruly, to reproach me with my gallantries; when in fact I only copy\nthe example which you yourself have set me. For, not to mention the\nsatisfaction with which you admitted the kisses of the fragrant Zephyr,\ndid I not see you displaying your charms to the bee, the fly, the wasp,\nand, in short, encouraging and receiving the addresses of every buzzing\ninsect that fluttered within your view? If you will be a coquet, you must\nexpect to find me inconstant.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE IV._\n\nThe Clock and the Dial.\n\n _There is no absolute independency in the world; every one\n depends in his station upon some above him, and that if this\n order was taken away, there would be nothing except error and\n confusion in the universe._\n\nA Clock, which served for many years to repeat the hours and point out\ntime, happened to fall into conversation with a Dial, which also served,\nwhen the sun shone, to tell what was the time of day. It happened to\nbe in a cloudy forenoon, when the sun did not shine. Says the Clock to\nthe Dial, What a mean slavery do you undergo! you cannot tell the hour\nwithout the sun pleases to inform you; and now the half of the day is\npast, and you know not what o\u2019clock it is. I can tell the hour at any\ntime, and would not be in such a dependent state as you are in for the\nworld. Night and day are both alike to me. It is just now twelve o\u2019clock.\nUpon this the sun shone forth from under the cloud, and showed the exact\ntime of the day. It was half an hour past twelve. The Dial then replied\nto the Clock, You may now perceive that boasting is not good; for you see\nyou are wrong. It is better to be under direction and follow truth, than\nto be eye to one\u2019s self and go wrong; your freedom is only a liberty to\nerr; and what you call slavery in my case, is the only method of being\nfreely in the right. You see that we should all of us keep our stations,\nand depend upon one another. I depend upon the sun, and you depend upon\nme; for if I did not serve to regulate your motions, you see you would\nfor ever go wrong.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE V._\n\nThe Tortoise and the Two Crows.\n\n _Curiosity often excites those people to hazardous\n undertakings, whom vanity and indiscretion render totally unfit\n for them._\n\nVanity and idle curiosity are qualities which generally prove destructive\nto those who suffer themselves to be governed by them.\n\nA Tortoise, weary of passing her days in the same obscure corner,\nconceived a wonderful inclination to visit foreign countries. Two Crows,\nwhom the simple Tortoise acquainted with her intention, undertook to\noblige her upon the occasion. Accordingly, they told her, that if she\nwould fasten her mouth to the middle of a pole, they would take the two\nends, and transport her whithersoever she chose to be conveyed. The\nTortoise approved of the expedient; and everything being prepared, the\nCrows began their flight with her. They had not travelled long in the\nair, when they were met by a Magpie, who inquiring what they were bearing\nalong, they replied the queen of the Tortoises. The Tortoise, vain of\nthe new and unmerited appellation, was going to confirm the title, when,\nopening her mouth for that purpose, she let go her hold, and was dashed\nto pieces by her fall.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE VI._\n\nThe Country Maid and the Milk-Pail.\n\n _When we dwell much on distant and chimerical advantages,\n we neglect our present business, and are exposed to real\n misfortunes._\n\nWhen men suffer their imagination to amuse them with the prospect of\ndistant and uncertain improvements of their condition, they frequently\nsustain real losses by their inattention to those affairs in which they\nare immediately concerned.\n\nA Country Maid was walking very deliberately with a pail of milk upon her\nhead, when she fell into the following train of reflections:\u2014The money\nfor which I shall sell this milk, will enable me to increase my stock of\neggs to three hundred. These eggs, allowing for what may prove addle,\nand what may be destroyed by vermin, will produce at least two hundred\nand fifty chickens. The chickens will be fit to carry to market about\nChristmas, when poultry always bear a good price, so that by May-day I\ncannot fail of having money enough to purchase a gown. Green!\u2014let me\nconsider\u2014yes, green becomes my complexion best, and green it shall be.\nIn this dress I will go to the fair, where all the young fellows will\nstrive to have me for a partner; but I shall perhaps refuse every one of\nthem, and with an air of disdain toss from them. Transported with this\ntriumphant thought, she could not forbear acting with her head what thus\npassed in her imagination, when down came the pail of milk, and with it\nall her imaginary happiness.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE VII._\n\nThe Spider and the Silkworm.\n\n _He that is employed in works of use generally advantages\n himself or others; while he who toils alone for fame must often\n expect to lose his labour._\n\nHow vainly we promise ourselves that our flimsy productions will be\nrewarded with immortal honour! A Spider, busied in spreading his web from\none side of a room to the other, was asked by an industrious Silkworm,\nto what end he spent so much time and labour, in making such a number of\nlines and circles? The Spider angrily replied, Do not disturb me, thou\nignorant thing: I transmit my ingenuity to posterity, and fame is the\nobject of my wishes. Just as he had spoken, a chambermaid, coming into\nthe room to feed her Silkworms, saw the Spider at his work, and with one\nstroke of her broom, swept him away, and destroyed at once his labours\nand his hope of fame.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE VIII._\n\nThe Bee and the Fly.\n\n _The greatest genius with a vindictive temper is far surpast in\n point of happiness by men of talents less considerable._\n\nA Bee, observing a Fly frisking about her hive, asked him, in a very\npassionate tone, what he did there? Is it for such scoundrels as you,\nsaid she, to intrude into the company of the queens of the air? You\nhave great reason, truly, replied the Fly, to be out of humour. I am\nsure they must be mad who would have any concern with so quarrelsome a\nnation. And why so? thou saucy malapert, returned the enraged Bee; we\nhave the best laws, and are governed by the best policy in the world.\nWe feed upon the most fragrant flowers, and all our business is to make\nhoney: honey which equals nectar, thou tasteless wretch, who livest upon\nnothing but putrefaction and excrement. We live as we can, rejoined the\nFly. Poverty, I hope, is no crime; but passion is one, I am sure. The\nhoney you make is sweet, I grant you; but your heart is all bitterness:\nfor to be revenged on an enemy, you will destroy your own life; and are\nso inconsiderate in your rage, as to do more mischief to yourselves\nthan to your adversary. Take my word for it, one had better have less\nconsiderable talents, and use them with more discretion.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE IX._\n\nThe Huron and the Frenchman.\n\n _Custom has a mighty effect upon mankind, and more differences\n arise in character from custom than from natural causes.\n Perhaps all men are in the state they should be in; they should\n therefore live contented._\n\nAn airy Frenchman happened to meet a Huron upon the Mississippi, as he\nwent with his bow and shafts to seek provision for his family. Says\nMonsieur to the savage, You have a very toilsome life of it, who, when\nother people sit by the fireside, enjoying the benefit of good food\nand good company, are obliged to traverse the woods in the midst of\nsnow and storms to preserve a wretched existence. How come you by your\nfood? replies the Huron. Does it rain from the clouds to you? No, says\nthe Frenchman; we work in summer, and make provision for winter, and,\nduring the cold months, sit by the fire and enjoy ourselves. For the\nsame reason, says the Huron, do we lay up provisions in winter, that we\nmay rest in summer when the days are hot. Your enjoyments are confined\nwithin the walls of a house, and by the side of a fire, but ours are more\nextensive; we assemble upon the mountains and in the woods in summer for\npleasure, and our delights are to observe the works of nature; the sun\nserves us instead of fire to warm us, and we are never at a loss for\nhouses while the woods remain. This is the season when we lay up our\nstore, and it serves us in summer till winter return. We are accustomed\nto endure the cold, and our exercise keeps us from feeling it to excess.\nAt night the skins of wild beasts keep us from the cold till the morning\ndawn, and then we pursue the same employments. Were we not to live in\nthis manner, the wild beasts would so increase, that they would become\nour masters; but our necessity of having food and clothing prevents them\nfrom increasing to very great numbers. What you account pleasure, would\nbe none to us; and your manner of life appears as ridiculous to the\nHurons, as ours appears to you. You reckon us idolaters, because we pay\nadoration to the rising sun; but you misunderstand us; we consider that\nlight to be a symbol of the great Author of Nature, and only worship him\nthrough this luminary. We do not understand your manner of worship, which\nto us appears abundantly absurd; for the Deity is no more like images\nof gold and silver, than he is like the sun. The sun is a more glorious\neffect of his power and goodness; for he serves many excellent purposes,\nand we could not live without him; but your symbols appear to have no\nuse. The Frenchman could make no reply, and the Huron proceeded on his\nhunting.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE X._\n\nGenius, Virtue, and Reputation.\n\n _There are few things so irreparably lost as Reputation._\n\nGenius, Virtue, and Reputation, three intimate friends, agreed to travel\nover the island of Great Britain, to see whatever might be worthy of\nobservation. But as some misfortune, said they, may happen to separate\nus, let us consider before we set out by what means we may find each\nother again. Should it be my ill fate, said Genius, to be severed from\nyou, my associates\u2014which Heaven forbid!\u2014you may find me kneeling in\ndevotion before the tomb of Shakespear, or rapt in some grove where\nMilton talked with angels, or musing in the grotto where Pope caught\ninspiration. Virtue, with a sigh, acknowledged that her friends were\nnot very numerous: but were I to lose you, she cried, with whom I am at\npresent so happily united, I should choose to take sanctuary in the\ntemples of religion, in the places of royalty, or in the stately domes of\nministers of state; but as it may be my ill-fortune to be there denied\nadmittance, inquire for some cottage where contentment has a bower,\nand there you will certainly find me. Ah! my dear companions, said\nReputation, very earnestly, you, I perceive, when missing, may possibly\nbe recovered; but take care, I entreat you, always to keep sight of me,\nfor if I am once lost, I am never to be retrieved.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XI._\n\nIndustry and Sloth.\n\n _Our term of life does not allow time for long protracted\n deliberations._\n\nHow many live in the world as useless as if they had never been born!\nThey pass through life like a bird through the air, and leave no track\nbehind them; waste the prime of their days in deliberating what they\nshall do, and bring them to a period without coming to any determination.\n\nAn indolent young man, being asked why he lay in bed so long, jocosely\nand carelessly answered, Every morning of my life I am hearing causes.\nI have two fine girls, their names are Industry and Sloth, close at my\nbed-side as soon as ever I awake, pressing their different suits. One\nintreats me to get up, the other persuades me to lie still; and then they\nalternately give me various reasons why I should rise, and why I should\nnot. This detains me so long, as it is the duty of an impartial judge to\nhear all that can be said on either side, that before the pleadings are\nover, it is time to go to dinner.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XII._\n\nThe Hermit and the Bear.\n\n _The random zeal of inconsiderate friends is often as hurtful\n as the wrath of enemies._\n\nAn imprudent friend often does as much mischief by his too great zeal as\nthe worst enemy could effect by his malice.\n\nA certain Hermit having done a good office to a Bear, the grateful\ncreature was so sensible of his obligation, that he begged to be admitted\nas the guardian and companion of his solitude. The Hermit willingly\naccepted his offer, and conducted him to his cell, where they passed\ntheir time together in an amicable manner. One very hot day, the Hermit\nhaving laid him down to sleep, the officious Bear employed himself in\ndriving away the flies from his patron\u2019s face. But in spite of all his\ncare, one of the flies perpetually returned to the attack, and at last\nsettled upon the Hermit\u2019s nose. Now I shall have you most certainly,\nsaid the Bear; and with the best intentions imaginable, gave him a\nviolent blow on the face, which very effectually indeed demolished\nthe Fly, but at the same time most terribly bruised the face of his\nbenefactor.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XIII._\n\nThe Passenger and the Pilot.\n\n _We are nowhere out of the reach of Providence, either to\n punish or to protect us._\n\nIt had blown a violent storm at sea, and the whole crew of a large vessel\nwere in imminent danger of shipwreck. After the rolling of the waves were\nsomewhat abated, a certain Passenger, who had never been at sea before,\nobserving the Pilot to have appeared wholly unconcerned, even in their\ngreatest danger, had the curiosity to ask him what death his father died.\nWhat death? said the Pilot; why he perished at Sea, as my grandfather\ndid before him. And are you not afraid of trusting yourself to an element\nthat has thus proved fatal to your family? Afraid!\u2014by no means. Why we\nmust all die: is not your father dead? Yes, but he died in his bed. And\nwhy then are you not afraid of trusting yourself to your bed? Because I\nam there perfectly secure. It may be so, replied the Pilot; but if the\nhand of Providence is equally extended over all places, there is no more\nreason for me to be afraid of going to sea than for you to be afraid of\ngoing to bed.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XIV._\n\nThe Partial Judge.\n\n _The injuries we do, and those we suffer, are seldom weighed in\n the same scales._\n\nA Farmer came to a neighbouring Lawyer expressing great concern for an\naccident which he said had just happened. One of your oxen, continued\nhe, has been gored by an unlucky bull of mine, and I shall be glad to\nknow how I am to make you a reparation. Thou art a very honest fellow,\nreplied the Lawyer, and wilt not think it unreasonable that I expect one\nof thy oxen in return. It is no more than justice, quoth the Farmer, to\nbe sure; but what did I say?\u2014I mistake: it is your bull that has killed\none of my oxen. Indeed! says the Lawyer; that alters the case: I must\ninquire into the affair; and if\u2014\u2014 And _if!_ said the Farmer; the business\nI find would have been concluded without an _if_, had you been as ready\nto do justice to others as to exact it from them.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XV._\n\nThe Lion and the Gnat.\n\n _Little minds are so much elevated by any advantage gained over\n their superiors, that they are often thrown off their guard\n against a sudden change of fortune._\n\nAvaunt! thou paltry contemptible insect! said a proud Lion one day to a\nGnat that was frisking about in the air near his den. The Gnat, enraged\nat this unprovoked insult, vowed revenge, and immediately darted into\nthe Lion\u2019s ear. After having sufficiently teased him in that quarter,\nshe quitted her station and retired under his belly, and from thence\nmade her last and most formidable attack in his nostrils, where stinging\nhim almost to madness, the Lion at length fell down, utterly spent with\nrage, vexation, and pain. The Gnat having thus abundantly gratified her\nresentment, flew off in great exultation; but in the heedless transports\nof her success, not sufficiently attending to her own security, she\nfound herself unexpectedly entangled in the web of a spider; who, rushing\nout instantly upon her, put an end to her triumph and her life.\n\nThis fable instructs us, never to suffer success so far to transport us\nas to throw us off our guard against a reverse of fortune.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XVI._\n\nThe Dog and the Crocodile.\n\n _It is ever dangerous to be long conversant with persons of a\n bad character._\n\nWe can never be too carefully guarded against a connection with persons\nof an ill character.\n\nAs a dog was coursing on the banks of the Nile, he grew thirsty; but\nfearing to be seized by the monsters of that river, he would not stop to\nsatiate his draught, but lapped as he ran. A Crocodile, raising his head\nabove the surface of the water, asked him, why he was in such a hurry.\nHe had often, he said, wished for his acquaintance, and should be glad\nto embrace the present opportunity. You do me great honour, returned the\nDog, but it is to avoid such companions as you that I am in so much haste.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XVII._\n\nThe Wolf in Disguise.\n\n _There would be little chance of detecting hypocrisy, were it\n not always addicted to over-act its part._\n\nDesigning hypocrites frequently lay themselves open to discovery by\nover-acting their parts.\n\nA Wolf, who by frequent visits to a flock of sheep in his neighbourhood,\nbegan to be extremely well known to them, thought it expedient, for the\nmore successfully carrying on his depredations, to appear in a new\ncharacter. To this end he disguised himself in a shepherd\u2019s habit; and\nresting his fore-feet upon a stick, which served him by way of crook,\nhe softly made his approaches towards the fold. It happened that the\nshepherd and his dog were both of them extended on the grass fast asleep;\nso that he would certainly have succeeded in his project, if he had not\nimprudently attempted to imitate the shepherd\u2019s voice. The horrid noise\nawakened them both: when the Wolf, encumbered with his disguise, and\nfinding it impossible either to resist or to flee, yielded up his life an\neasy prey to the shepherd\u2019s dog.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XVIII._\n\nThe Ass and his Master.\n\n _Avarice often misses its point, through the means it uses to\n secure it._\n\nA diligent Ass, daily loaded beyond his strength by a severe Master, whom\nhe had long served, and who kept him at very short commons, happened\none day in his old age to be oppressed with a more than ordinary burthen\nof earthenware. His strength being much impaired, and the road deep and\nuneven, he unfortunately made a trip, and, unable to recover himself,\nfell down and broke all the vessels to pieces. His Master, transported\nwith rage, began to beat him most unmercifully. Against whom the\npoor Ass, lifting up his head as he lay on the ground, thus strongly\nremonstrated: Unfeeling wretch! to thy own avaricious cruelty, in first\npinching me of food, and then loading me beyond my strength, thou owest\nthe misfortune which thou so unjustly imputest to me.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XIX._\n\nThe Eagle and the Crow.\n\n _A false estimate of our own abilities ever exposes us to\n ridicule, and sometimes to danger._\n\nTo mistake our own talents, or over-rate our abilities, is always\nridiculous, and sometimes dangerous.\n\nAn Eagle, from the top of a high mountain, making a stoop at a lamb,\npounced upon it, and bore it away to her young. A Crow, who had built\nher nest in a cedar near the foot of the rock, observing what passed,\nwas ambitious of performing the same exploit; and darting from her nest,\nfixed her talons in the fleece of another lamb. But neither able to move\nher prey, nor to disentangle her feet, she was taken by the shepherd,\nand carried away for his children to play with; who eagerly enquiring\nwhat bird it was:\u2014An hour ago, said he, she fancied herself an eagle,\nhowever, I suppose she is by this time convinced that she is but a crow.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XX._\n\nThe Lion, the Tyger, and the Fox.\n\n _The intemperate rage of clients gives the lawyer an\n opportunity of seizing the property in dispute._\n\nA Lion and a Tyger jointly seized on a young fawn, which they immediately\nkilled. This they had no sooner performed than they fell a fighting, in\norder to decide whose property it should be. The battle was so bloody and\nso obstinate that they were both compelled, through weariness and loss of\nblood, to desist; and lay down by mutual consent, totally disabled. At\nthis instant, a Fox unluckily came by; who, perceiving their situation,\nmade bold to seize the contested prey, and bore it off unmolested. As\nsoon as the Lion could recover his breath,\u2014How foolish, said he, has been\nour conduct! Instead of being contented, as we ought, with our respective\nshares, our senseless rage has rendered us unable to prevent this\nrascally Fox from defrauding us of the whole.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXI._\n\nThe Lion and the Ass.\n\n _A total neglect is the best return the generous can make to\n the scurrility of the base._\n\nA conceited Ass had once the impertinence to bray forth some contemptuous\nspeeches against the Lion. The suddenness of the insult at first\nraised some emotions of wrath in his breast; but turning his head, and\nperceiving from whence it came, they immediately subsided, and he very\nsedately walked on, without deigning to honour the contemptible creature\neven so much as with an angry word.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXII._\n\nThe Trumpeter.\n\n _The fomenter of mischief is at least as culpable as he who\n puts it in execution._\n\nA Trumpeter in a certain army happened to be taken prisoner. He was\nordered immediately to execution; but pleaded, in excuse for himself,\nthat it was unjust a person should suffer death, who, far from an\nintention of mischief, did not even wear an offensive weapon. So much\nthe rather, replied one of the enemy, shalt thou die; since without any\ndesign of fighting thyself, thou excitest others to the bloody business:\nfor he that is the abetter of a bad action, is at least equally guilty\nwith him that commits it.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXIII._\n\nThe Bear and the Bees.\n\n _It were more prudent to acquiesce under an injury from a\n single person, than by an act of vengeance to bring upon us the\n resentment of a whole community._\n\nA Bear happened to be stung by a Bee, and the pain was so acute, that in\nthe madness of revenge he ran into the garden and overturned the hive.\nThis outrage provoked their anger to a high degree, and brought the\nfury of the whole swarm upon him. They attacked him with such violence,\nthat his life was in danger, and it was with the utmost difficulty\nthat he made his escape, wounded from head to tail. In this desperate\ncondition, lamenting his misfortunes, and licking his sores, he could not\nforbear reflecting how much more advisable it had been to have patiently\nacquiesced under one injury, than thus by an unprofitable resentment to\nhave provoked a thousand.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXIV._\n\nThe Oak and the Willow.\n\n _The courage of meeting death in an honourable cause is more\n commendable, than any address or artifice we can make use of to\n evade it._\n\nA conceited Willow had once the vanity to challenge his mighty neighbour\nthe Oak to a trial of strength. It was to be determined by the next\nstorm; and \u00c6olus was addressed by both parties to exert his most powerful\nefforts. This was no sooner asked than granted; and a violent hurricane\narose, when the pliant Willow, bending from the blast, or shrinking under\nher, evaded all its force, while the generous Oak, disdaining to give\nway, opposed its fury, and was torn up by the roots. Immediately the\nWillow began to exult, and to claim the victory, when thus the fallen\nOak interrupted his exultation: Callest thou this a trial of strength?\nPoor wretch! not to thy strength, but weakness; not to thy boldly facing\ndanger, but meanly skulking from it, thou owest thy present safety. I\nam an Oak, though fallen; thou still a Willow, though unhurt: but who,\nexcept so mean a wretch as thyself, would prefer an ignominious life,\npreserved by craft or cowardice, to the glory of meeting death in an\nhonourable cause?\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXV._\n\nThe Bear and the Two Friends.\n\n _Cowards are incapable of true Friendship._\n\nTwo Friends, setting out together upon a journey which led through a\ndangerous forest, mutually promised to assist each other if they should\nhappen to be assaulted. They had not proceeded far before they perceived\na Bear making towards them with great rage. There were no hopes in\nflight; but one of them, being very active, sprung up into a tree; upon\nwhich the other, throwing himself flat on the ground, held his breath,\nand pretended to be dead, remembering to have heard it asserted that this\ncreature will not prey upon a dead carcase. The Bear came up, and after\nsmelling to him for some time, left him, and went on. When he was fairly\nout of sight and hearing, the hero from the tree calls out\u2014Well, my\nfriend, what said the Bear? He seemed to whisper you very closely. He did\nso, replied the other, and gave me this good piece of advice: Never to\nassociate with a wretch who in the hour of danger will desert his friend.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXVI._\n\nThe Wasps and the Bees.\n\n _It is a folly to arrogate works to ourselves of which we are\n by no means capable._\n\nPretenders of every kind are best detected by appealing to their works.\n\nSome honeycombs being claimed by a swarm of Wasps, the right owners\nprotested against their demand, and the cause was referred to a Hornet.\nWitnesses being examined, they deposed that certain winged creatures,\nwho had a loud hum, were of a yellowish colour, and somewhat like bees,\nwere observed a considerable time hovering about the place where this\nnest was found. But this did not sufficiently decide the question; for\nthese characteristics, the Hornet observed, agreed no less with the Bees\nthan with the Wasps. At length a sensible old Bee offered to put the\nmatter upon this decisive issue: Let a place be appointed by the court,\nsaid he, for the plaintiffs and defendants to work in. It will then\nsoon appear which of us are capable of forming such regular cells, and\nafterwards of filling them with so delicious a fluid. The Wasps refusing\nto agree to this proposal, sufficiently convinced the judge on which side\nthe right lay, and he decreed the honeycombs accordingly.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXVII._\n\nFortune and the School-boy.\n\n _We are always ready to censure Fortune for the ill effects of\n our own carelessness._\n\nA School-boy, fatigued with play, threw himself down by the brink of\na deep pit, where he fell fast asleep. Fortune happening to pass by,\nsaw him in this dangerous situation, and kindly gave him a pat on the\nshoulder: My dear child, said she, if you had fallen into this pit, I\nshould have borne the blame; though in fact the accident would have been\nwholly owing to your own carelessness.\n\nMisfortune, said a celebrated Cardinal, is but another word for\nimprudence. The maxim is by no means absolutely true: certain, however,\nit is, that mankind suffer more evils from their own imprudence, than\nfrom events which it is not in their power to controul.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXVIII._\n\nThe Belly and the Limbs.\n\n _It is a folly even to wish to withhold our part from the\n support of civil government._\n\nMenenius Agrippa, a Roman Consul, being deputed by the senate to appease\na dangerous tumult and sedition of the people, who refused to pay the\ntaxes necessary for carrying on the business of the state, convinced them\nof their folly by delivering to them the following fable:\u2014\n\nMy friends and countrymen, said he, attend to my words. It once happened\nthat the Members of the human body, taking some exception at the conduct\nof the Belly, resolved no longer to grant him the usual supplies. The\nTongue first, in a seditious speech, aggravated their grievances; and\nafter highly extolling the activity and diligence of the Hands and\nFeet, set forth how hard and unreasonable it was that the fruits of\ntheir labour should be squandered away upon the insatiable cravings of\na fat and indolent Paunch, which was entirely useless, and unable to do\nanything towards helping himself. This speech was received with unanimous\napplause by all the Members. Immediately the Hands declared they would\nwork no more; the Feet determined to carry no further the load of guts\nwith which they had hitherto been oppressed; nay, the very Teeth refused\nto prepare a single morsel more for his use. In this distress, the Belly\nbethought them to consider maturely, and not foment so senseless a\nrebellion. There is none of you, says he, can be ignorant that whatsoever\nyou bestow upon me is immediately converted to your use, and dispersed\nby me for the good of you all into every Limb. But he remonstrated in\nvain; for during the clamours of passion, the voice of reason is always\ndisregarded. It being therefore impossible for him to quiet the tumult,\nhe starved for want of their assistance, and the body wasted away to a\nskeleton. The Limbs, grown weak and languid, were sensible at last of\ntheir error, and would fain have returned to their respective duties; but\nit was now too late, death had taken possession of the whole, and they\nall perished together.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXIX._\n\nThe Wolf and the Lamb.\n\n _They who do not feel the sentiments of humanity will seldom\n listen to the pleas of reason._\n\nWhen cruelty and injustice are armed with power, and determined on\noppression, the strongest pleas of innocence are preferred in vain.\n\nA Wolf and a Lamb were accidentally quenching their thirst together at\nthe same rivulet. The Wolf stood towards the head of the stream, and the\nLamb at some distance below. The injurious beast, resolved on a quarrel,\nfiercely demands\u2014How dare you disturb the water which I am drinking? The\npoor Lamb, all trembling, replies, How, I beseech you, can that possibly\nbe the case, since the current sets from you to me? Disconcerted by the\nforce of truth, he changes the accusation. Six months ago, says he, you\nvilely slandered me. Impossible, returns the Lamb, for I was not then\nborn. No matter, it was your father, then, or some of your relations; and\nimmediately seizing the innocent Lamb, he tore him to pieces.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXX._\n\nThe Daw with Borrowed Feathers.\n\n _To aim at figure by the means either of borrowed wit, or\n borrowed money, generally subjects us at least to tenfold\n ridicule._\n\nWhen a pert young Templar or city apprentice sets up for a fine\ngentleman, with the assistance of an embroidered waistcoat and Dresden\nruffles, but without one qualification proper to the character, how\nfrequently does it happen that he is laughed at by his equals, and\ndespised by those whom he presumed to imitate!\n\nA pragmatic Jackdaw was vain enough to imagine that he wanted nothing\nbut the coloured plumes to render him as elegant a bird as the Peacock.\nPuffed up with this wise conceit, he dressed himself with a sufficient\nquantity of their most beautiful feathers, and in this borrowed garb,\nforsaking his old companions, endeavoured to pass for a Peacock; but\nhe no sooner attempted to associate with these genteel creatures, than\nan affected strut betrayed the vain pretender. The offended Peacocks,\nplucking from him their degraded feathers, soon stripped him of his\nfinery, reduced him to a mere Jackdaw, and drove him back to his\nbrethren, by whom he was now equally despised, and justly punished with\nderision and contempt.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXXI._\n\nThe Wolf and the Shepherds.\n\n _We severely censure that in others, which we ourselves\n practise without scruple._\n\nHow apt are men to condemn in others what they practise themselves\nwithout scruple!\n\nA Wolf, says Plutarch, peeping into a hut where a company of Shepherds\nwere regaling themselves with a joint of mutton; Lord, said he, what a\nclamour would these men have raised if they had catched _me_ at such a\nbanquet!\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXXII._\n\nThe Eagle and the Owl.\n\n _The partiality of parents often makes themselves ridiculous,\n and their children unhappy._\n\nAn Eagle and an Owl having entered into a league of mutual amity, one of\nthe articles of their treaty was, that the former should not prey upon\nthe younglings of the latter. But tell me, said the Owl, should you know\nmy little ones if you were to see them? Indeed I should not, replied\nthe Eagle; but if you describe them to me, it will be sufficient. You\nare to observe, then, returned the Owl, in the first place, that the\ncharming creatures are perfectly well shaped; in the next, that there\nis a remarkable sweetness and vivacity in their countenances; and then\nthere is something in their voices so peculiarly melodious. It is enough,\ninterrupted the Eagle; by these marks I cannot fail of distinguishing\nthem; and you may depend upon their never receiving any injury from\nme. It happened, not long afterwards, as the Eagle was upon the wing in\nquest of his prey, that he discovered amidst the ruins of an old castle\na nest of grim-faced ugly birds, with gloomy countenances, and a voice\nlike that of the Furies. These, undoubtedly, said he, cannot be the\noffspring of my friend, and so I shall venture to make free with them. He\nhad scarce finished his repast and departed, when the Owl returned; who,\nfinding nothing of her brood remaining but some fragments of the mangled\ncarcases, broke out into the most bitter exclamations against the cruel\nand perfidious author of her calamity. A neighbouring Bat, who overheard\nher lamentations, and had been witness to what had passed between her and\nthe Eagle, very gravely told her that she had nobody to blame for this\nmisfortune but herself, whose blind prejudices in favour of her children\nhad prompted her to give such a description of them as did not resemble\nthem in any one single feature or quality.\n\nParents should very carefully guard against that weak partiality\ntowards their children which renders them blind to their failings and\nimperfections, as no disposition is more likely to prove prejudicial to\ntheir future welfare.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXXIII._\n\nThe Sick Lion, the Fox, and the Wolf.\n\n _Men who meditate mischief, suggest the same to others; and\n generally pay dear for their froward gratifications._\n\nA Lion, having surfeited himself with feasting too luxuriously on the\ncarcase of a wild boar, was seized with a violent and dangerous disorder.\nThe beasts of the forest flocked in great numbers to pay their respects\nto him upon the occasion, and scarce one was absent except the Fox. The\nWolf, an ill-natured and malicious beast, seized this opportunity to\naccuse the Fox of pride, ingratitude, and disaffection to his majesty.\nIn the midst of his invective, the Fox entered; who having heard part of\nthe Wolf\u2019s accusation, and observing the Lion\u2019s countenance to be kindled\ninto wrath, thus adroitly excused himself, and retorted upon his accuser:\nI see many here who with mere lip service have pretended to shew you\ntheir loyalty; but for my part, from the moment I heard of your majesty\u2019s\nillness, neglecting useless compliments, I employed myself day and night\nto enquire among the most learned physicians an infallible remedy for\nyour disease, and have at length happily been informed of one. It is a\nplaister made of part of a Wolf\u2019s skin, taken warm from his back, and\nlaid to your majesty\u2019s stomach. This remedy was no sooner proposed than\nit was determined that the experiment should be tried; and whilst the\noperation was performing, the Fox, with a sarcastic smile, whispered this\nuseful maxim in the Wolf\u2019s ear\u2014If you would be safe from harm yourself,\nlearn for the future not to meditate mischief against others.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXXIV._\n\nThe Blind Man and the Lame.\n\n _The wants and weaknesses of individuals form the connections\n of society._\n\nA Blind man, being stopped in a bad piece of road, meets with a Lame man,\nand intreats him to guide him through the difficulty he was got into.\nHow can I do that, replied the Lame man, since I am scarce able to drag\nmyself along? But as you appear to be very strong, if you will carry\nme, we will seek our fortunes together. It will then be my interest to\nwarn you of anything that may obstruct your way; your feet shall be my\nfeet, and my eyes yours. With all my heart, returned the Blind Man; let\nus render each other our mutual services. So taking his lame companion\non his back, they by means of their union travelled on with safety and\npleasure.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXXV._\n\nThe Lion, the Bear, the Monkey, and the Fox.\n\n _It is often more prudent to suppress our sentiments than\n either to flatter or to rail._\n\nThe Tyrant of the forest issued a proclamation, commanding all his\nsubjects to repair immediately to his royal den. Among the rest the Bear\nmade his appearance; but pretending to be offended with the steams which\nissued from the monarch\u2019s apartments, he was imprudent enough to hold his\nnose in his majesty\u2019s presence. This insolence was so highly resented,\nthat the Lion in a rage laid him dead at his feet. The Monkey, observing\nwhat had passed, trembled for his carcase; and attempted to conciliate\nfavour by the most abject flattery. He began with protesting, that for\nhis part he thought the apartments were perfumed with Arabian spices; and\nexclaiming against the rudeness of the Bear, admired the beauty of his\nmajesty\u2019s paws, so happily formed, he said, to correct the insolence of\nclowns. This fulsome adulation, instead of being received as he expected,\nproved no less offensive than the rudeness of the Bear; and the courtly\nMonkey was in like manner extended by the side of Sir Bruin. And now his\nmajesty cast his eye upon the Fox. Well, Reynard, said he, and what scent\ndo you discover here? Great prince, replied the cautious Fox, my nose was\nnever esteemed my most distinguishing sense; and at present I would by no\nmeans venture to give my opinion, as I have unfortunately got a terrible\ncold.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXXVI._\n\nThe Two Horses.\n\n _The object of our pride is often the cause of our misfortunes._\n\nTwo Horses were travelling the road together; one loaded with a sack of\nflour, the other with a sum of money. The latter, proud of his splendid\nburthen, tossed up his head with an air of conscious superiority, and\nevery now and then cast a look of contempt upon his humble companion.\nIn passing through a wood, they were met by a gang of highwaymen, who\nimmediately seized upon the horse that was carrying the treasure; but the\nspirited steed not being altogether disposed to stand so quietly as was\nnecessary for their purpose, they beat him most unmercifully, and after\nplundering him of his boasted load, left him to lament at his leisure the\ncruel bruises he had received. Friend, said his despised companion to\nhim (who had now reason to triumph in his turn), distinguished posts are\noften dangerous to those who possess them: if you had served a miller, as\nI do, you might have travelled the road unmolested.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXXVII._\n\nThe Mock-bird.\n\n _Ridicule appears with a very ill grace in persons who possess\n no one talent beside._\n\nThere is a certain bird in the West Indies, which has the faculty of\nmimicking the notes of every other songster, without being able himself\nto add any original strains to the concert. As one of these Mock-birds\nwas displaying his talent of ridicule among the branches of a venerable\nwood: \u2019Tis very well, said a little warbler, speaking in the name of all\nthe rest; we grant you that our music is not without its faults: but why\nwill you not favour us with a strain of your own?\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXXVIII._\n\nThe Ant and the Caterpillar.\n\n _Boys of no very promising appearance often become the greatest\n men._\n\nAs a Caterpillar was advancing very slowly along one of the alleys\nof a beautiful garden, he was met by a pert lively Ant, who tossing\nup her head with a scornful air, cried, Prithee get out of the way,\nthou poor creeping animal, and do not presume to obstruct the paths of\nthy superiors, by wriggling along the road, and besmearing the walks\nappropriated to their footsteps. Poor creature! thou lookest like a thing\nhalf-made, which Nature not liking threw by unfinished. I could almost\npity thee, methinks; but it is beneath one of my quality to talk to such\nmean creatures as thou art: and so, poor crawling wretch, adieu.\n\nThe humble Caterpillar, struck dumb with this disdainful language,\nretired, went to work, wound himself up in a silken cell, and at the\nappointed time came out a beautiful Butterfly. Just as he was sallying\nforth, he observed the scornful Ant passing by. Proud insect, said he,\nstop a moment, and learn from the circumstances in which you now see\nme, never to despise any one for that condition in which Providence has\nthought fit to place him; as there is none so mean but may one day,\neither in this state or in a better, be exalted above those who looked\ndown upon him with unmerited contempt.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXXIX._\n\nThe Two Lizards.\n\n _The superior safety of an obscure and humble station, is a\n balance for the honours of high and envied life._\n\nAs two Lizards were basking under a south wall, How contemptible, said\none of them, is our condition! We exist, \u2019tis true, but that is all: for\nwe hold no sort of rank in the creation, and are utterly unnoticed by\nthe world. Cursed obscurity! Why was I not rather born a stag, to range\nat large, the pride and glory of some royal forest? It happened, that in\nthe midst of these unjust murmurs, a pack of hounds was heard in full cry\nafter the very creature he was envying, who, being quite spent with the\nchase, was torn in pieces by the dogs in sight of our two Lizards. And is\nthis the lordly stag, whose place in the creation you wish to hold? said\nthe wiser Lizard to his complaining friend: Let his sad fate teach you to\nbless Providence for placing you in that humble situation, which secures\nyou from the dangers of a more elevated rank.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XL._\n\nJupiter\u2019s Lottery.\n\n _Folly, passing with men for wisdom, makes each contented with\n his own share of understanding._\n\nJupiter, in order to please mankind, directed Mercury to give notice\nthat he had established a Lottery, in which there were no blanks; and\nthat amongst a variety of other valuable chances, Wisdom was the highest\nprize. It was Jupiter\u2019s command, that in this Lottery some of the gods\nshould also become adventurers. The tickets being disposed of, and\nthe wheels placed, Mercury was employed to preside at the drawing. It\nhappened that the best prize fell to Minerva: upon which a general murmur\nran through the assembly, and hints were thrown out that Jupiter had\nused some unfair practices to secure this desirable lot to his daughter.\nJupiter, that he might at once both punish and silence these impious\nclamours of the human race, presented them with Folly in the place of\nWisdom; with which they went away perfectly well contented. And from that\ntime the greatest Fools have always looked upon themselves as the wisest\nmen.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XLI._\n\nThe Snipe Shooter.\n\n _We often miss our point by dividing our attention._\n\nAs a sportsman ranged the fields with his gun, attended by an experienced\nold Spaniel, he happened to spring a Snipe; and almost at the same\ninstant, a covey of Partridges. Surprised at the accident, and divided in\nhis aim, he let fly too indeterminately, and by this means missed them\n_both_. Ah, my good master, said the Spaniel, you should never have two\naims at once. Had you not been dazzled and seduced by the luxurious hope\nof Partridge, you would most probably have secured your Snipe.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XLII._\n\nThe Two Dogs.\n\n _Our own moderation will not secure us from disturbance, if\n we connect ourselves with men of turbulent and litigious\n dispositions._\n\nHasty and inconsiderate connections are generally attended with great\ndisadvantages: and much of every man\u2019s good or ill fortune depends upon\nthe choice he makes of his friends.\n\nA good-natured Spaniel overtook a surly Mastiff, as he was travelling\nupon the high road. Tray, although an entire stranger to Tyger, very\ncivilly accosted him: And if it would be no interruption, he said, he\nshould be glad to bear him company on his way. Tyger, who happened not to\nbe altogether in so growling a mood as usual, accepted the proposal; and\nthey very amicably pursued their journey together. In the midst of their\nconversation they arrived at the next village, where Tyger began to\ndisplay his malignant disposition, by an unprovoked attack upon every dog\nhe met. The villagers immediately sallied forth with great indignation\nto rescue their respective favourites; and falling upon our two friends\nwithout distinction or mercy, poor Tray was most cruelly treated, for no\nother reason but his being found in bad company.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XLIII._\n\nThe Trouts and the Gudgeon.\n\n _A person can hardly be deemed too cautious, where the first\n mistake is irretrievable, or fatal._\n\nA fisherman in the month of May stood angling on the banks of the\nThames with an artificial fly. He threw his bait with so much art, that\na young Trout was rushing towards it, when she was prevented by her\nmother. Never, said she, my child, be too precipitate, where there is\na possibility of danger. Take due time to consider, before you risk\nan action that _may_ be fatal. How know you whether yon appearance be\n_indeed_ a fly, or the snare of an enemy? Let some one else make the\nexperiment _before_ you. If it be a fly, he very probably will elude\nthe first attack: and the second may be made, if not with success,\nat least with safety.\u2014She had no sooner uttered this caution, than a\nGudgeon seized upon the pretended fly, and became an example to the giddy\ndaughter of the great importance of her mother\u2019s counsel.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XLIV._\n\nThe Sun and the Wind.\n\n _Gentle means, on many occasions, are more effectual than\n violent ones._\n\nPh\u0153bus and \u00c6olus had once a dispute which of them could soonest prevail\nwith a certain traveller to part with his cloak. \u00c6olus began the attack,\nand assaulted him with great violence. But the man, wrapping his cloak\nstill closer about him, doubled his efforts to keep it, and went on his\nway. And now, Ph\u0153bus darted his warm insinuating rays, which melting the\ntraveller by degrees, at length obliged him to throw aside that cloak\nwhich all the rage of \u00c6olus could not compel him to resign. Learn hence,\nsaid Ph\u0153bus to the blustering god, that soft and gentle means will often\naccomplish what force and fury can never effect.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XLV._\n\nThe Boy and the Nettle.\n\n _There are certain persons who require to be treated rather\n with spirit and resolution, than either tenderness or delicacy._\n\nA little Boy playing in the fields, chanced to be stung by a Nettle, and\ncame crying to his father: he told him, he had been hurt by that nasty\nweed several times before; that he was always afraid of it; and that now\nhe did but just touch it, as lightly as possible, when he was so severely\nstung. Child, says he, your touching it so gently and timorously is the\nvery _reason_ of its hurting you. A Nettle may be handled safely, if you\ndo it with courage and resolution; if you seize it boldly and gripe it\nfast, be assured it will never sting you: and you will meet with many\nsorts of persons, as well as things in the world, which ought to be\ntreated in the very same manner.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XLVI._\n\nThe Beggar and his Dog.\n\n _\u2019Tis misery to depend upon patrons, whose circumstances make\n their charity necessary at home._\n\nA Beggar and his Dog sat at the gate of a noble Courtier, and was\npreparing to make a meal on a bowl of fragments from the Kitchen-maid.\nA poor Dependant of his Lordship\u2019s, who had been sharing the singular\nfavour of a dinner at the Steward\u2019s table, was struck with the\nappearance, and stopped a little to observe them. The Beggar, hungry and\nvoracious as any Courtier in Christendom, seized with greediness the\nchoicest morsels, and swallowed them himself; the residue was divided\ninto portions for his children. A scrag was thrust into one pocket for\nhonest Jack, a crust into another for bashful Tom, and a luncheon of\ncheese was wrapt up with care for the little favourite of his hopeful\nfamily. In short, if anything was thrown to the Dog, it was a bone so\nclosely picked, that it scarce afforded a pittance to keep life and soul\ntogether. How exactly alike, said the Dependant, is this poor Dog\u2019s case\nand mine! He is watching for a dinner from a master who cannot spare it;\nI for a place from a needy Lord, whose wants perhaps are greater than my\nown, and whose relations more clamorous than any of this Beggar\u2019s brats.\nShrewdly was it said by an ingenious writer, a _Courtier\u2019s Dependant_ is\na _Beggar\u2019s Dog_.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XLVII._\n\nThe Fox and the Stork.\n\n _We should always reflect, before we rally another, whether we\n can bear to have the jest retorted._\n\nThe Fox, though in general more inclined to roguery than wit, had once\na strong inclination to play the wag with his neighbour the Stork. He\naccordingly invited her to dinner in great form; but when it came upon\nthe table the Stork found it consisted entirely of different soups,\nserved up in broad shallow dishes, so that she could only dip in the end\nof her bill, but could not possibly satisfy her hunger. The Fox lapped it\nup very readily, and every now and then, addressing himself to his guest,\ndesired to know how she liked her entertainment; hoped that everything\nwas seasoned to her mind, and protested he was very sorry to see her eat\nso sparingly. The Stork, perceiving she was played upon, took no notice\nof it, but pretended to like every dish extremely; and at parting pressed\nthe Fox so earnestly to return her visit, that he could not in civility\nrefuse. The day arrived, and he repaired to his appointment; but to\nhis great mortification, when dinner appeared, he found it composed of\nminced meat, served up in long narrow-necked glasses; so that he was only\ntantalized with the sight of what it was impossible for him to taste. The\nStork thrust in her long bill, and helped herself very plentifully; then\nturning to Reynard, who was eagerly licking the outside of a jar where\nsome sauce had been spilled: I am very glad, said she, smiling, that you\nseem to have so good an appetite; I hope you will make as hearty a dinner\nat my table as I did the other day at yours. Reynard hung down his head,\nand looked very much displeased\u2014\u2014 Nay, nay, said the Stork, don\u2019t pretend\nto be out of humour about the matter; they that cannot take a jest should\nnever make one.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XLVIII._\n\nThe Trees and the Bramble.\n\n _The most worthless persons are generally the most presuming._\n\nThe Israelites, ever murmuring and discontented under the reign of\nJehovah, were desirous of having a king, like the rest of the nations.\nThey offered the kingdom to Gideon, their deliverer; to him, and to his\nposterity after him. He generously refused their offer, and reminded\nthem that Jehovah was their king. When Gideon was dead, Abimelech, his\nson by a concubine, slew all his other sons to the number of seventy,\nJotham alone escaping; and by the assistance of the Shechemites made\nhimself king. Jotham, to represent to them their folly, and to shew them\nthat the most deserving are generally the least ambitious, whereas the\nworthless grasp at power with eagerness, and exercise it with insolence\nand tyranny, spake to them in the following manner:\n\nHearken unto me, ye men of Shechem, so may God hearken unto you. The\nTrees, grown weary of the state of freedom and equality in which God\nhad placed them, consulted together to choose and to anoint a king over\nthem; and they said to the Olive-tree, Reign thou over us. But the\nOlive-tree said unto them, Shall I quit my fatness wherewith God and man\nis honoured, to disquiet myself with the cares of government, and to rule\nover the Trees? And they said unto the Fig-tree, Come thou and reign over\nus. But the Fig-tree said unto them, Shall I bid adieu to my sweetness\nand my pleasant fruit, to take upon me the painful charge of royalty, and\nto be set over the Trees? Then said the Trees unto the Vine, Come thou\nand reign over us. But the Vine said also unto them, Shall I leave my\nwine which honoureth God and cheereth man, to bring upon myself nothing\nbut trouble and anxiety, and to become king of the Trees? we are happy\nin our present lot: seek some other to reign over you. Then said all the\nTrees unto the Bramble. Come thou and reign over us. And the Bramble said\nunto them, I will be your king; come ye all under my shadow and be safe;\nobey me, and I will grant you my protection. But if you obey me not,\nout of the Bramble shall come forth a fire, which shall devour even the\ncedars of Lebanon.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nPART II.\n\nFABLES, _with Reflections_.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE I._\n\nThe Cock and the Jewel.\n\nA brisk young Cock, in company with two or three pullets, his mistresses,\nraking upon a Dunghill for something to entertain them with, happened\nto scratch up a jewel. He knew what it was well enough, for it sparkled\nwith an exceeding bright lustre; but, not knowing what to do with it,\nendeavoured to cover his ignorance under a gay contempt. So, shrugging\nup his wings, shaking his head, and putting on a grimace, he expressed\nhimself to this purpose: Indeed you are a very fine thing; but I know\nnot any business you have here. I make no scruple of declaring that my\ntaste lies quite another way; and I had rather have one grain of dear,\ndelicious barley, than all the jewels under the sun.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Several very pretty fellows, who are as great strangers to the\n true uses of virtue and knowledge as the Cock upon the Dunghill\n is to the real value of the Jewel, endeavour to palliate their\n ignorance by pretending that their taste lies another way._\n\n _To fools, the treasures dug from wisdom\u2019s mine_\n _Are Jewels thrown to Cocks, and Pearls to Swine._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThere are several people in the world that pass, with some, for\nwell-accomplished gentlemen, and very pretty fellows, though they are\nas great strangers to the true uses of virtue and knowledge as the Cock\nupon the Dunghill is to the real value of the Jewel. He palliates his\nignorance by pretending that his taste lies another way: But whatever\ngallant airs people may give themselves upon these occasions, without\ndispute, the solid advantages of virtue, and the durable pleasures of\nlearning, are as much to be preferred before other objects of the senses\nas the finest brilliant diamond is above a barley-corn. The greatest\nblockheads would appear to understand what at the same time they affect\nto despise; and nobody yet was ever so vicious as to have the impudence\nto declare in public that virtue was not a fine thing.\n\nBut still, among the idle, sauntering, young fellows of the age, who have\nleisure as well to cultivate and improve the faculties of the mind as to\ndress and embellish the body, how many are there who spend their days\nin raking after new scenes of debauchery, in comparison of those few who\nknow how to relish more reasonable entertainments! Honest, undesigning\ngood sense is so unfashionable, that he must be a bold man who at this\ntime of day attempts to bring it into esteem.\n\nHow disappointed is the youth who, in the midst of his amorous pursuits,\nendeavouring to plunder an outside of bloom and beauty, finds a treasure\nof impenetrable virtue concealed within! And why may it not be said, how\ndelighted are the fair sex, when, from among a crowd of empty, frolic,\nconceited admirers, they find out and distinguish, with their good\nopinion, a man of sense, with a plain, unaffected person, which at first\nsight they did not like!\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE II._\n\nThe City Mouse and Country Mouse.\n\nA Country Mouse invited a City Sister of hers to a collation, where\nshe spared for nothing that the place afforded\u2014as mouldy crusts,\ncheese-parings, musty oatmeal, rusty bacon, and the like. The City\nDame was too well bred to find fault with her entertainment; but yet\nrepresented that such a life was unworthy of a merit like hers; and\nletting her know how splendidly she lived, invited her to accompany her\nto town. The Country Mouse consented, and away they trudged together,\nand about midnight got to their journey\u2019s end. The City Mouse shewed her\nfriend the larder, the pantry, the kitchen, and other offices where she\nlaid her stores; and after this, carried her into the parlour, where they\nfound, yet upon the table, the relics of a mighty entertainment of that\nvery night. The City Mouse carved her companion of what she liked best,\nand so to it they fell upon a velvet couch. The Country Mouse, who had\nnever seen or heard of such doings before, blessed herself at the change\nof her condition\u2014when, as ill luck would have it, all on a sudden the\ndoors flew open, and in comes a crew of noisy servants of both sexes,\nto feast upon the dainties that were left. This put the poor mice to\ntheir wits\u2019 end how to save their skins\u2014the stranger especially, who had\nnever been in such danger before. But she made a shift, however, for\nthe present to slink into a corner, where she lay trembling and panting\ntill the company went away. As soon as ever the house was quiet again:\nWell, my Court Sister, says she, if this be the sauce to your rich meats,\nI\u2019ll e\u2019en back to my cottage and my mouldy cheese again; for I had much\nrather lie nibbling of crusts, without fear or hazard, in my own hole,\nthan be mistress of all the delicacies in the world, and subject to such\nterrifying alarms and dangers.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _This fable shews the difference between a Court and a Country\n Life: The delights, innocence, and security of the one,\n compared with the anxiety, voluptuousness, and hazards of the\n other._\n\n _Heav\u2019n in one mould the kindred fate has cast_\n _Of men of dignity and mice of taste;_\n _Traps, dangers, terrors are alike their lot:_\n _Scar\u2019d if they \u2019scape, and worry\u2019d if they\u2019re caught._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nHow infinitely superior are the delights of a private life to the noise\nand bustle of a public one! Innocence, security, meditation, good air,\nhealth, and unbroken rest, are the blessings of the one; while the rages\nof lust and wine, noise, hurry, circumvention, falsehood, treachery,\nconfusion, and ill health, are the constant attendants of the other.\n\nThe splendour and luxury of a court are but a poor recompense for\nthe slavish attendances, the invidious competitions, and the mortal\ndisappointments that accompany it. The uncertain favour of Princes, and\nthe envy of those who judge by hearsay or appearance, without either\nreason or truth, make even the best sort of court lives miserable, to\nsay nothing of the innumerable temptations, vices, and excesses of a\nlife of pomp and pleasure. Let a man but set the pleasing of his palate\nagainst the surfeits of gluttony and excess; the starving of his mind\nagainst a pampered carcase; the restless importunities of tale-bearers\nand back-friends against fair words and professions, only from the teeth\noutwards; let him, I say, but set the one in balance against the other,\nand he shall find himself miserable, even in the very height of his\ndelights. To say all in a word: Let him but set the comforts of a life\nspent in noise, formality, and tumult, against the blessings of a retreat\nwith competency and freedom, and then cast up his account.\n\nWhat man, then, that is not stark mad, will voluntarily expose himself\nto the imperious brow-beatings and scorns of great men! To have a dagger\nstruck to his heart in an embrace! To be torn to pieces by calumny; nay,\nto be a knave in his own defence! For the honester, the more dangerous in\na vicious age, and where it is a crime not to be like the company. Men of\nthat character are not to be read and understood by their words, but by\ntheir interests; their promises and protestations are no longer binding\nthan while they are profitable to them.\n\nAfter all, to keep the fable more closely in view, let a man, with the\nCountry Mouse, reflect on the peace and safety of rural retirement, and\nprefer, if he can, the insecurity, noise, and hurry of a more exalted\nfortune.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE III._\n\nThe Fox and the Crow.\n\nA Crow having taken a piece of cheese out of a cottage window, flew up\ninto a high tree with it, in order to eat it. Which a Fox observing, came\nand sat underneath, and began to compliment the Crow upon the subject\nof her beauty. I protest, says he, I never observed it before, but your\nfeathers are of a more delicate white than any that ever I saw in my\nlife! Ah! what a fine shape and graceful turn of body is there! And I\nmake no question but you have a tolerable voice. If it is but as fine\nas your complexion, I do not know a bird that can pretend to stand in\ncompetition with you. The Crow, tickled with this very civil language,\nnestled and wriggled about, and hardly knew where she was; but thinking\nthe Fox a little dubious as to the particular of her voice, and having\na mind to set him right in that matter, began to sing, and, in the same\ninstant, let the cheese drop out of her mouth;\u2014which the Fox presently\nchopt up, and then bade her remember that whatever he had said of her\nbeauty, he had spoken nothing yet of her brains.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _There is hardly any man living that may not be wrought upon\n more or less by flattery; for we do all of us naturally\n overween in our own favour. But when it comes to be applied\n once to a vain fool, there is no end then can be proposed to be\n attained by it, but may be effected._\n\n _\u201cIt is a maxim in the schools,_\n _That ~Flattery\u2019s the food of fools~:\u201d_\n _And whoso likes such airy meat_\n _Will soon have nothing else to eat._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nFlattery in itself is an unmanly, slavish vice; but it is much worse yet\nfor the alliance it has to hypocrisy; for while we make other people\nthink better of _themselves_ than _they_ deserve, we make them think\nbetter of _us_ too than _we_ deserve: For self-love and vanity on the one\nhand, assists the falseness and confidence on the other, while it serves\nto confirm weak minds in the opinion they had of themselves before,\nand makes them parties effectually in a conspiracy to their own ruin.\nThe only benefit or good of Flattery is this; that by hearing what we\n_are not_, we may be instructed what we _ought to be_. Yet how few are\nthere among the whole race of mankind, who may be said to be full proof\nagainst its attacks! The gross way by which it is managed by some silly\npractitioners, is enough to alarm the dullest apprehension, and make it\nto value itself upon the quickness of its insight into the little plots\nof this nature. But, let the ambuscade be disposed with due judgment,\nand it will scarce fail of seizing the most guarded heart. How many are\ntickled to the last degree with the pleasure of Flattery, even while\nthey are applauded for their honest detestation of it! There is no way to\nbaffle the force of this engine, but by every one\u2019s examining impartially\nfor himself the true estimate of his own qualities: If he deals sincerely\nin the matter, nobody can tell so well as himself what degree of esteem\nought to attend any of his actions; and therefore he should be entirely\neasy as to the opinion men are like to have of them in the world. If\nthey attribute more to him than is his due, they are either designing or\nmistaken; if they allow him less, they are envious, or, possibly, still\nmistaken; and, in either case, are to be despised, or disregarded. For\nhe that flatters without designing to make advantage of it, is a fool:\nAnd whoever encourages that Flattery, which he has sense enough to see\nthrough, is a vain coxcomb.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE IV._\n\nAn Ass, an Ape, and a Mole.\n\nAn Ass and an Ape were conferring on grievances. The Ass complained\nmightily for want of horns, and the Ape was as much troubled for want\nof a tail. Hold your tongues, both of ye, says the Mole, and be thankful\nfor what you have; for the poor blind Moles are in a worse condition than\neither of ye.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE V._\n\nThe Hares and the Frogs.\n\nOnce upon a time the Hares found themselves mightily unsatisfied with the\nmiserable condition they lived in. Here we live, says one of them, at\nthe mercy of men, dogs, eagles, and I know not how many other creatures,\nwhich prey upon us at pleasure; perpetually in frights, perpetually in\ndanger; and therefore I am absolutely of opinion, that we had better die\nonce for all, than live at this rate in a continual dread that\u2019s worse\nthan death itself. The motion was seconded and debated, and a resolution\nimmediately taken, by one and all, to drown themselves. The vote was no\nsooner passed, but away they scudded with that determination to the next\nlake. Upon this hurry there leapt a whole shoal of Frogs from the bank\ninto the water, for fear of the Hares. Nay then, my masters, says one\nof the gravest of the company, pray let\u2019s have a little patience. Our\ncondition, I find, is not altogether so bad as we fancied it; for there\nare those, you see, that are as much afraid of us as we are of others.\n\n\nMORALS of the two Fables.\n\n _There is no contending with the Orders and Decrees of\n Providence. He that makes us, knows what is fittest for us;\n and every man\u2019s own lot (well understood and managed) is\n undoubtedly the best._\n\n _The miseries of half mankind unknown,_\n _Fools vainly think no sorrows like their own:_\n _But view the world, and you will learn to bear_\n _Misfortunes well, since all men have their share._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nSince nature provides for the necessities of all creatures, and for the\nwell-being of every one in its kind; and since it is not in the power of\nany creature to make itself other than what by Providence it was designed\nto be; what a madness is it to wish ourselves other than what we are, and\nwhat we must continue to be! Every atom of the creation has its place\nassigned: every creature has its proper figure, and there is no disputing\nwith Him that made it so. _Why have I not this?_ and, _Why have I not\nthat?_ are questions for a Philosopher of _Bedlam_ to ask; and we may\nas well cavil at the motions of the heavens, the vicissitude of day and\nnight, and the succession of the seasons, as expostulate with Providence\nupon any of the rest of God\u2019s works. The _Ass_ would have _horns_, the\n_Ape_ would have a _tail_, and the _Hares_ would be free from those\nterrors which, timid as they are, they give to others: but the _Mole_ on\nthe one hand, and the _Frogs_ on the other, shew that there are others as\nmiserable as themselves.\n\nIt may seem to be a kind of a malicious satisfaction that one man derives\nfrom the misfortune of another. But the philosophy of this reflection\nstands upon another ground; for our comfort does not arise from other\npeople being miserable, but from this inference upon the balance, that we\nsuffer only the lot of human nature: and as we are happy or miserable,\ncompared with others; so other people are miserable or happy, compared\nwith us; by which justice of Providence we come to be convinced of the\nsin, and the mistake, of our ingratitude. What would not a man give to be\neased of the gout, or the stone? or, supposing an incurable poverty on\nthe one hand, and an incurable malady on the other, why should not the\npoor man think himself happier in his rags, than the other in his purple?\nbut the rich man envies the poor man\u2019s _health_, without considering\nhis _want_; and the poor man envies the other\u2019s _treasure_, without\nconsidering his _diseases_. What is an ill name in the world to a good\nconscience within one\u2019s self; and how much less miserable, upon the\nwheel, is one man that is innocent, than another under the same torture\nthat is guilty? The only way for Hares and Asses, is to be thankful what\nthey are, and what they have, and not to grumble at the lot that they\nmust bear in spite of their teeth.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE VI._\n\nAn Ant and Fly.\n\nWhere\u2019s the honour or the pleasure in the world, says the Fly, in a\ndispute for preeminence with the Ant, that I have not my part in? Are\nnot all temples and places open to me? Am not I the taster to gods and\nprinces in all their sacrifices and entertainments? And all this without\neither money or pains? I trample upon crowns, and kiss what ladies\u2019\nlips I please. And what have you now to pretend to all this while? Vain\nboaster! says the Ant, dost thou not know the difference between the\naccess of a _guest_, and that of an _intruder_? for people are so far\nfrom liking your company, that they kill you as soon as they catch you.\nYou are a plague to them wherever you come. Your very breath has maggots\nin it; and for the kiss you brag of, what is it but the perfume of the\nlast dunghill you touched upon, once removed? For my part, I live upon\nwhat\u2019s my own, and work honestly in the summer to maintain myself in the\nwinter; whereas the whole course of your scandalous life is only cheating\nor sharping one half of the year, and starving the other.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _The happiness of life does not lie so much in enjoying small\n advantages, as in living free from great inconveniences. An\n honest mediocrity is the happiest state a man can wish for._\n\n _Pert coxcombs, pleas\u2019d with buzzing round the fair,_\n _Laugh at the low mechanic\u2019s thrifty care;_\n _While he with juster scorn may well deride_\n _Their folly, meanness, indolence, and pride._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThis fable marks out to us the difference betwixt the empty vanity or\nostentation, and the substantial ornaments of virtue. A man can hardly\nfancy to himself a truer image of a plain, honest, country simplicity,\nthan the Ant\u2019s part of the dialogue in this fable. She takes pains for\nwhat she eats; wrongs nobody; and so creates no enemies; she wants\nnothing; and she boasts of nothing; lives contented with her own, and\nenjoys all with a good conscience. This emblem recommends to us the\nblessings of a virtuous privacy, according to the just measures of right\nnature, and, in few words, comprises the sum of a happy state.\n\nThe Fly, on the contrary, leads a lazy, voluptuous, scandalous, sharking\nlife; is hated wherever she comes, and in perpetual fears and dangers.\nShe justly may be compared with the worthless part of mankind, who\npass through the world without being of any service in it; and without\nacquiring the least reputation, seldom fail of adding pride to all\ntheir other failings, and behave with haughtiness and arrogance towards\nthose who contribute to the comfort and happiness of society. They\ntreat industrious persons as wretched drudges, appointed to labour for\na poor subsistence; while Heaven has provided everything for their own\nuse, though they of all others least deserve it. But the worthy and\nindustrious may always comfort themselves with this reflection, that the\npride and extravagance of these idle creatures will at last bring them to\nshame and want, while their own honest labours will secure to them a life\nof plenty and affluence.\n\nIt is true she flutters from place to place, from feast to feast, brags\nof her interest at court, and of ladies\u2019 favours: and what is this\nmiserable insect at last, but the very picture of one of our ordinary\ntrencher Esquires, that spends his time in hopping from the table of one\ngreat man to that of another, only to pick up scraps of intelligence, and\nto spoil good company; at other times officiously skipping up and down\nfrom levee to levee, and endeavouring to make himself necessary, wherever\nhe thinks fit to be troublesome.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE VII._\n\nA Horse and an Ass.\n\nA proud pampered Horse, bedecked with gaudy trappings, met in his course\na poor creeping Ass, under a heavy burden, that had chopt into the same\ntrack with him. Why, how now, sirrah, says he, do you not see by these\narms and trappings to what master I belong? and do you not understand,\nthat when I have that master of mine upon my back, the whole weight of\nthe state rests upon my shoulders? Out of the way, thou slavish insolent\nanimal, or I\u2019ll tread thee to dirt. The wretched Ass immediately slunk\naside, with this envious reflection between his teeth, _What would I give\nto change conditions with that happy creature there!_ This fancy would\nnot out of the head of him, till it was his hap, a little while after, to\nsee this very Horse doing drudgery in a common dung-cart. Why, how now,\nfriend, says the Ass, how comes this about? Only the chance of war, says\nthe other: I was a General\u2019s horse, you must know; and my master carried\nme into a battle, where I was hacked and maimed; and you have here before\nyour eyes the catastrophe of my fortune.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _This Fable shews the folly and the fate of pride and\n arrogance; and the mistake of placing happiness in anything\n that may be taken away; as also the blessing of freedom in a\n mean estate._\n\n _Proud of the clothes with which you are equipt,_\n _You of your pride may easily be stript._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nPeople would never envy the pomp and splendour of greatness, if they\ndid but consider either the cares and dangers that go along with it,\nor the blessings of peace and security in a middle condition. No man\ncan be truly happy, who is not every hour of his life prepared for the\nworst that can befall him. Now this is a state of tranquillity never to\nbe attained but by keeping perpetually in our thoughts the certainty of\ndeath, and the lubricity of fortune; and by delivering ourselves from the\nanxiety of hopes and fears.\n\nIt falls naturally within the prospect of this fiction to treat of the\nwickedness of a presumptuous arrogance; the fate that attends it; the\nrise of it; and the means of either preventing or suppressing it; the\nfolly of it; the wretched and ridiculous estate of a proud man, and the\nweakness of that envy that is grounded upon the mistaken happiness of\nhuman life.\n\nThe folly both of the Horse and Ass may be considered here; the one\nin placing his happiness upon anything that could be taken away; and\nthe other, in envying that mistaken happiness, under the abuse of the\nsame splendid illusion and imposture. What signify gay furniture, and a\npampered carcase, or any other outward appearance, without an intrinsic\nvalue of worth and virtue? what signify beauty, strength, youth, fortune,\nembroidered furniture, gaudy bosses, or any of those temporary and\nuncertain satisfactions that may be taken from us with the very next\nbreath we draw? what assurance can any man have of a possession that\nevery turn of state, every puff of air, every change of humour, and the\nleast of a million of common casualties, may deprive him of?\n\nMoreover, the envy of the Ass was a double folly; for he mistakes both\nthe Horse\u2019s condition and his own. \u2019Tis madness to envy any creature that\nmay in a moment become miserable, or for any advantage that may in a\nmoment be taken from him. The Ass envies the Horse to-day; and, in some\nfew days more, the Horse comes to envy him: wherefore let no man despair,\nso long as it is in the power either of death, or of chance, to remove\nthe burden. Nothing but moderation and greatness of mind can make either\na prosperous or an adverse fortune easy to us. The only way to be happy\nis to submit to our lot; for no man can be properly said to be miserable\nthat is not wanting to himself. It is certainly true, that many a poor\ncobbler has a merrier heart in his stall, than a prince in his palace.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE VIII._\n\nAn Husbandman and Stork.\n\nA poor innocent Stork had the ill hap to be taken in a net that was laid\nfor geese and cranes. The Stork\u2019s plea for herself was simplicity and\npiety, the love she bore to mankind, her duty to her parents, and the\nservice she did in picking up venomous creatures. This may be all true,\nsays the Husbandman, for what I know; but as you have been taken with ill\ncompany, you must expect to suffer with it.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Our fortune and reputation require us to keep good company;\n for as we may be easily perverted by the force of bad examples,\n wise men will judge of us by the company we keep. What says the\n proverb? ~Birds of a feather will flock together.~_\n\n _The youth to temperance in vain pretends,_\n _Who goes to taverns, and makes rakes his friends:_\n _As maidens, who would live without a stain,_\n _Should never choose to lodge in ~Drury-Lane~._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThe world will always form an idea of the character of every man from his\nassociates. Nor is this rule founded on wrong principles; for, generally\nspeaking, those who are constant companions are either drawn together\nfrom a similitude of manners, or from such a similitude to each other by\ndaily commerce and continual conversation.\n\nIf bad company had nothing else to make us shun and avoid it, this,\nmethinks, might be sufficient, _that it infects and taints a man\u2019s\nreputation to as great a degree as if he were thoroughly versed in the\nwickedness of the whole gang_. What is it to me if the thief who robs me\nof my money gives part of it to build a church? Is he ever the less a\nthief? Shall a woman\u2019s going to prayers twice a day, save her reputation,\nif she is known to be a malicious lying gossip? No; such mixtures of\nreligion and sin make the offence but the more flagrant, as they convince\nus that it was not committed out of ignorance. Indeed, there is no living\nwithout being guilty of some faults, more or less; which the world ought\nto be good-natured enough to overlook, in consideration of the general\nfrailty of mankind, when they are not too gross and too abundant. But,\nwhen we are so abandoned to stupidity, and a neglect of our reputation,\nas to keep bad company, however little we may be criminal in reality,\nwe must expect the same censure and punishment as is due to the most\nnotorious of our companions.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE IX._\n\nThe Dog and the Shadow.\n\nA Dog, crossing a little rivulet with a piece of flesh in his mouth, saw\nhis own shadow represented in the clear mirror of the limpid stream; and\nbelieving it to be another Dog who was carrying another piece of flesh,\nhe could not forbear catching at it; but was so far from getting anything\nby his greedy design, that he dropt the piece he had in his mouth, which\nimmediately sunk to the bottom, and was irrecoverably lost.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Excessive greediness mostly in the end misses what it aims\n at; disorderly appetites seldom obtain what they would have;\n passions mislead men, and often bring them into great straits\n and inconveniences, through heedlessness and negligence._\n\n _Base is the man who pines amidst his store,_\n _And fat with plenty, griping, covets more:_\n _But doubly vile, by av\u2019rice when betray\u2019d,_\n _He quits the substance for an empty shade._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nIt is wisely decreed that vice should carry its own punishment along\nwith it. Therefore he that catches at more than belongs to him, justly\ndeserves to lose what he has; yet nothing is more common, and, at the\nsame time, more pernicious, than this selfish principle. It prevails from\nthe king to the peasant; and all orders and degrees of men are, more\nor less, infected with it. Great monarchs have been drawn in, by this\ngreedy humour, to grasp at the dominions of their neighbours; not that\nthey wanted anything more to feed their luxury, but to gratify their\ninsatiable appetite for vainglory. If the Kings of _Persia_ could have\nbeen contented with their own vast territories, they had not lost all\n_Asia_, for the sake of a little petty state of _Greece_. And _France_,\nwith all its glory, has, ere now, been reduced to the last extremity by\nthe same unjust incroachments.\n\nHe that thinks he sees another\u2019s estate in a pack of cards, or a box and\ndice, and ventures his own in the pursuit of it, should not repine if he\nfinds himself a beggar in the end.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE X._\n\nA Peacock and a Crane.\n\nAs a Peacock and a Crane were in company together, the Peacock spread his\ntail, and challenged the other to shew him such a fan of feathers. You\nbrag of your plumes, says the Crane, that are fair indeed to the eye, but\nfit for nothing but to attract the eyes of children and fools. Do as I\ndo, if you can; and then, with a suitable contempt, he springs up into\nthe air, leaving the gaping Peacock staring after him till his eyes ached.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _There cannot be a greater sign of a weak mind than a person\u2019s\n valuing himself on a gaudy outside; whether it be on the\n beauties of person, or the still vainer pride of fine clothes._\n\n _Worth makes the man, and want of it the fellow,_\n _The rest is all but leather or prunella._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nIt is very absurd to slight or insult another upon his wanting a property\nwhich we possess; for he may, for anything we know, have as just reason\nto triumph over us, by being master of some good quality of which we are\nincapable. But, in regard to the fable before us, that which the Peacock\nvalues himself upon, the glitter and finery of dress, is one of the\nmost trifling considerations in nature; and what a man of sense would\nbe ashamed to reckon even as the least part of merit. Indeed, children,\nand those people who think much about the same pitch with them, are apt\nto be taken with varnish and tinsel; but they who examine by the scale\nof common sense, must find something of weight and substance before they\ncan be persuaded to set a value. The mind which is stored with virtuous\nand rational sentiments, and the behaviour which speaks complacence\nand humility, stamp an estimate upon the possessor which all judicious\nspectators are ready to admire and acknowledge. But if there be any merit\nin an embroidered coat, a brocade waistcoat, a shoe, a stocking, or a\nsword-knot, the person who wears them has the least claim to it; let it\nbe ascribed where it justly belongs\u2014to the several artisans who wrought\nand disposed the materials of which they consist. This moral is not\nintended to derogate anything from the magnificence of fine clothes and\nrich equipages, which, as times and circumstances require, may be used\nwith decency and propriety enough. But one cannot help being concerned\nlest any worth should be affixed to them more than their own intrinsic\nvalue.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XI._\n\nA Boy and False Alarms.\n\nA Shepherd\u2019s Boy kept his sheep upon a common, and in sport and\nwantonness had gotten a roguish trick of crying, A wolf! a wolf! when\nthere was no such matter, and fooling the country people with false\nalarms. He had been at this sport so many times in jest, that they would\nnot believe him at last when he was in earnest; and so the wolves broke\nin upon the flock, and worried the sheep without resistance.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _This fable shews us the dangerous consequences of an improper\n and unseasonable fooling. The old moral observes, that a common\n liar shall not be believed, even when he speaks true._\n\n _Rank lies repeated oft, and oft detected,_\n _Makes truth itself for a rank lie suspected._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nIt is not every man\u2019s talent to know when and how to cast out a pleasant\nword, with such a regard to modesty and respect as not to transgress the\ntrue and fair allowances of wit, good-nature, and good breeding. The\nskill and faculty of governing this freedom within the terms of sobriety\nand discretion, goes a great way in the character of an agreeable\ncompanion: for that which we call raillery, in this sense, is the very\nsauce of civil entertainment; and without some such tincture of urbanity,\neven in matters the most serious, the good-humour falters for want of\nrefreshment and relief; but there is a _medium_ yet betwixt _all-fool_\nand _all-philosopher_; I mean a proper and discreet mixture, that in\nsome sort partakes of both, and renders wisdom itself so much the more\ngrateful and effectual. The gravity, in short, of the one is enlivened\nwith the spirit and quickness of the other; and the gaiety of a diverting\nword serves as a vehicle to convey the force of the intent and meaning of\nit.\n\nThe Shepherd\u2019s Boy, in short, to come closer to the fable, went too far\nupon a topic he did not understand. And he that is detected for being a\nnotorious liar, besides the ignominy and reproach of the thing, incurs\nthis mischief, that he will scarce be able to get any one to believe him\nagain as long as he lives. However true our complaint may be, or how much\nsoever it may be for our interest to have it believed, yet, if we have\nbeen frequently caught tripping before, we shall hardly be able to gain\ncredit to what we relate afterwards. Though mankind are generally stupid\nenough to be often imposed upon, yet few are so senseless as to believe a\nnotorious liar, or to trust a cheat upon record. These little shams, when\nfound out, are sufficiently prejudicial to the interest of every private\nperson who practises them. But, when we are alarmed with imaginary\ndangers in respect of the public, till the cry grows quite stale and\nthreadbare, how can it be expected we should know when to guard ourselves\nagainst real ones.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XII._\n\nA Father and his Sons.\n\nA very honest man happened to have a contentious brood of children. He\ncalled for a rod, and bade them try one after another, with all their\nforce, if they could break it. They tried, and could not. Well, says he,\nunbind it now, and take every twig of it apart, and see what you can do\nthat way. They did so, and with great ease, by one and one, they snapped\nit all to pieces. This, says he, is the true emblem of your condition:\nkeep together, and you are safe; divide, and you are undone.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _The breach of unity puts the world into a state of war, and\n turns every man\u2019s hand against his brother; but so long as that\n band holds, it is the strength of all the several parts of it\n gathered into one, and is not easily subdued._\n\n _Distress and ruin on divisions wait,_\n _But union is the bond of ev\u2019ry state;_\n _Disloyalty\u2019s a plague, dissension\u2019s worse,_\n _And parties, where they rage, a kingdom\u2019s curse._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThis fable imitates the force of union, and the danger of division.\nIntestine commotions have destroyed many a powerful state; and it is as\nruinous in private affairs as it is in public. A divided family can no\nmore stand than a divided commonwealth; for every individual suffers in\nthe neglect of a common safety. It is a strange thing that men should not\ndo that under the government of rational spirit, and a natural prudence,\nwhich wolves and bears do by the impulse of an animal instinct. For they,\nwe see, will make head, one and all, against a common enemy; whereas the\ngenerality of mankind lie pecking at one another, till one by one they\nare all torn to pieces, never considering (as this fable teaches) the\nnecessity and benefits of union.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XIII._\n\nThe Sick Father and his Children.\n\nA Countryman who had lived handsomely in the world upon his honest labour\nand industry, was desirous his Sons should do so after him; and being now\nupon his death-bed, My dear children, says he, I reckon myself bound to\ntell you before I depart, that there is a considerable treasure hid in\nmy vineyard; wherefore pray be sure to dig, and search narrowly for it,\nwhen I am gone. The Father dies, and the Sons fall immediately to work\nupon the vineyard. They turned it up over and over, and not one penny of\nmoney to be found there; but the profit of the next vintage expounded the\nriddle.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Good counsel is the best legacy a Father can leave to a Child;\n and it is still the better, when it is so wrapt up, as to beget\n a curiosity as well as an inclination to follow it._\n\n _Assiduous pains the swelling coffers fill,_\n _And all may make their fortune, if they will._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThere is no wealth like that which comes by the blessing of God upon\nhonest labour and warrantable industry. Here is an incitement to an\nindustrious course of life, by a consideration of the profit, the\ninnocence, and the virtue of such an application. There is one great\ncomfort in hand, besides the hope and assurance of more to come. It was\na touch of art in the Father to cover his meaning in such a manner as to\ncreate a curiosity and an earnest desire in his Sons to find it out. And\nit was a treble advantage to them besides; for there was health in the\nexercise, profit in the discovery, and the comfort of a good conscience\nin discharging the duty of a filial obedience.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XIV._\n\nThe Stag looking into the Water.\n\nA Stag that had been drinking at a clear spring, saw himself in the\nwater; and, pleased with the prospect, stood afterwards for some time\ncontemplating and surveying his shape and features, from head to\nfoot. Ah! says he, what a glorious pair of branching horns are there!\nhow gracefully do those antlers hang over my forehead, and give an\nagreeable turn to my whole face! If some other parts of my body were but\nproportionable to them, I would turn my back to nobody; but I have a set\nof such legs as really makes me ashamed to see them. People may talk what\nthey please of their conveniences, and what great need we stand in of\nthem upon several occasions; but for my part, I find them so very slender\nand unsightly, that I had as lief have none at all. While he was giving\nhimself these airs, he was alarmed with the noise of some Huntsmen and a\npack of hounds that had been just laid on upon the scent, and were making\ntowards him. Away he flies in some consternation, and, bounding nimbly\nover the plain, threw dogs and men at a vast distance behind him. After\nwhich, taking a very thick copse, he had the ill-fortune to be entangled\nby his horns in a thicket; where he was held fast, till the hounds came\nin and pulled him down. Finding now how it was like to go with him, in\nthe pangs of death, he is said to have uttered these words: Unhappy\ncreature that I am! I am too late convinced, that what I prided myself in\nhas been the cause of my undoing; and what I so much disliked, was the\nonly thing that could have saved me.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _We should examine things deliberately, and candidly consider\n their real usefulness before we place our esteem on them;\n otherwise, like the foolish Stag, we may happen to admire those\n accomplishments which are of no real use, and often prove\n prejudicial to us, while we despise those things on which our\n safety may depend._\n\n _Virtue despised, the beauty views her face,_\n _And pleased beholds an angel in her glass;_\n _But lost at length, to shame and want resigned,_\n _Mourns she ne\u2019er sought the beauty of the mind._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nPerhaps we cannot apply this better, than by supposing the fable to be a\nparable; which may be thus explained. The Deer, viewing itself in the\nwater, is a beautiful young lady at her looking-glass. She can\u2019t help\nbeing sensible of the charms which lie blooming in every feature of her\nface. She moistens her lips, languishes with her eyes, adjusts every\nlock of her hair with the nicest exactness, gives an agreeable attitude\nto her whole body, and then, with a soft sigh, says to herself, Ah! how\nhappy might I be, in a daily crowd of admirers, if it were not for the\ncensoriousness of the age! When I view that face, where Nature, to give\nher her due, has been liberal enough of charms, how easy should I be, if\nit were not for that slender particular, my honour. The odious idea of\nthat comes across all my happy moments, and brings a mortification with\nit that damps my most flattering tender hopes. Oh that there were no such\nthing in the world! In the midst of these soliloquies, she is interrupted\nby the voice of her lover, who enters her chamber singing a rigadoon air;\nand, introducing his discourse in a familiar easy manner, takes occasion\nto launch out in praise of her beauty, sees she is pleased with it,\nsnatches her hand, kisses it in a transport; and in short, pursues his\npoint so close, that she is not able to disengage herself from him. But,\nwhen the consequence of all this approaches, in an agony of grief and\nshame, she fetches a deep sigh, and says, \u201cAh! how mistaken have I been!\nthe virtue I slighted might have saved me; but the beauty I prized so\nmuch has been my undoing.\u201d\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XV._\n\nThe Countryman and the Snake.\n\nA Villager, in a frosty, snowy winter, found a Snake under a hedge,\nalmost dead with cold. He could not help having compassion for the poor\ncreature, so brought it home, and laid it upon the hearth near the fire;\nbut it had not lain there long before (being revived with the heat) it\nbegan to erect itself, and fly at his wife and children, filling the\nwhole cottage with dreadful hissings. The countryman hearing an outcry,\nand perceiving what the matter was, catched up a mattock, and soon\ndispatched him, upbraiding him at the same time in these words: \u201cIs this,\nvile wretch, the reward you make to him that saved your life? Die, as you\ndeserve; but a single death is too good for you.\u201d\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _It is no strange thing to see a reprobate fool throw his\n poisonous language about against those who are so inadvertent\n as to concern themselves with him._\n\n _Evil for good, relentless to bestow,_\n _Is all the gratitude th\u2019 unworthy know;_\n _Mercy to such should be with caution shown;_\n _Saving a villain\u2019s life, you risk your own._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\n\u2019Tis the nature of ingrates to return evil for good; and the moralists in\nall ages have incessantly declaimed against the enormity of this crime,\nconcluding _that they who are capable of hurting their benefactors,\nare not fit to live in a community; being such, as the natural ties of\nparent, friend, or country, are too weak to restrain within the bounds\nof society_. Indeed, the sin of ingratitude is so detestable, that, as\nnone but the most inhuman temper can be guilty of it, so, in writing to\nmen, there is no occasion to use many words, either in exposing the vice\nitself, or dissuading people from the commission of it. Therefore it is\nnot likely that a person of _\u00c6sop\u2019s_ sagacity would have compiled this\nfable, without having something else in view, besides this trite and\nobvious subject. He certainly intended to put us in mind, _That, as none\nbut a poor silly clown would go to take up a Snake and cherish it, so we\nshall be very negligent and ill-advised, if, in doing good offices, we do\nnot take care to bestow our benevolence upon proper objects_. It was not\nat all unnatural in the Snake to hiss, and brandish his tongue, and fly\nat the first that came near him; as soon at the person that saved his\nlife as any other; indeed more likely, because nobody else had so much\nto do with him. Nor is it strange at any time to see a reprobate fool\nthrowing his poisonous language about, and committing his extravagances\nagainst those, more especially, who are so inadvertent as to concern\nthemselves with him. The snake and the reprobate will not appear\nextraordinary in their malevolence. But the sensible part of mankind\ncannot help thinking those guilty of great indiscretion who receive\neither of them into their protection.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XVI._\n\nA Gnat and a Bee.\n\nA Gnat, half starved with cold and hunger, went one frosty morning to\na Bee-hive, to beg a charity; and offered to teach music in the Bee\u2019s\nfamily, for her diet and lodging. The Bee very civilly desired to be\nexcused: For, says she, I bring up all my children to my own trade, that\nthey may be able to get their living by their industry; and I am sure I\nam right; for see what that music, which you would I teach my children,\nhas brought you yourself to.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Industry ought to be diligently inculcated in the minds of\n children of all ranks and degrees; for who stands so sure as to\n say he is exempt from the vicissitudes of this uncertain life?_\n\n _The wretch who works not for his daily bread,_\n _Sighs and complains, but ought not to be fed._\n _Think, when you see stout beggars on their stand,_\n _The lazy are the locusts of the land._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThe many unhappy persons whom we daily see singing up and down in order\nto divert other people, though with very heavy hearts of their own,\nshould warn all those who have the education of children, how necessary\nit is to bring them up to industry and business, be their present\nprospects ever so hopeful; that so, upon any unexpected disaster, they\nmight be able to turn their hands to a course which might procure them an\nhonest livelihood.\n\nThe Gnat in the fable, we may further observe, is very like many\ninconsiderate persons in life. They gaily buz about in the _summer of\nprosperity_, and think of nothing but their present enjoyments: but\nwhen the _winter of adversity_ comes, they poorly creep about, and\nsupplicate the industrious inhabitants of every _Bee-hive_, charitably to\nrelieve those wants which they have brought upon themselves; and often\ndeservedly meet the repulse, and the sting, which the Bee gives to the\nGnat in the fable. We have seen many a doted-on child, who has been\nbrought up to singing, dancing, and all the gay delights of this world,\nand yet has been forced to shut up the last scene of a miserable life in\nwant and beggary; which had been prevented, if they had been early taught\nthe value of industry and independency, and the means, by the former, of\nattaining the latter.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XVII._\n\nMercury and the Woodman.\n\nA Man was felling a tree on the bank of a river; and by chance let his\nhatchet slip out of his hand, which dropt into the water, and immediately\nsunk to the bottom. Being therefore in great distress for the loss of\nhis tool, he sat down and bemoaned himself most lamentably. Upon this,\n_Mercury_ appeared to him, and, being informed of the cause of his\ncomplaint, dived to the bottom of the river, and coming up again, showed\nthe man a golden hatchet, demanding if that were his. He denied that it\nwas. Upon which _Mercury_ dived a second time, and brought up a silver\none. The man refused it, alleging likewise that this was not his. He\ndived a third time, and fetched up the individual hatchet the man had\nlost; upon sight of which the poor wretch was overjoyed, and took it with\nall humility and thankfulness. _Mercury_ was so pleased with the fellow\u2019s\nhonesty, that he gave him the other two into the bargain, as a reward\nfor his just dealing. The man goes to his companions, and giving them an\naccount of what had happened, one of them went presently to the river\u2019s\nside, and let his hatchet fall designedly into the stream. Then sitting\ndown upon the bank, he fell a weeping and lamenting, as if he had been\nreally and sorely afflicted. _Mercury_ appeared as before, and diving,\nbrought him up a golden hatchet, asking if that was the hatchet he lost.\nTransported at the precious metal, he answered, Yes; and went to snatch\nit greedily. But the god detesting his abominable impudence, not only\nrefused to give him that, but would not so much as let him have his own\nhatchet again.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Honesty is the best policy; religion absolutely requires it of\n its votaries: and the honest man, provided his other talents\n are not deficient, always carries the preference in our esteem,\n before any other, in whatever business he employs himself._\n\n _Truth, sacred truth, shall flourish and prevail,_\n _While all the arts of fraud and falsehood fail;_\n _The flimsy cheat wise judges soon descry;_\n _Sure those will rob, who scruple not to lie._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nNotwithstanding the proneness of mankind to do evil, and the account\nwhich some find in playing the knave, yet there cannot be invented\na more true and reasonable maxim, than that by which we are assured\nthat _honesty is the best policy_. If we consider it in respect to the\nother world, there never was a religion but strictly required it of its\nvotaries. If we examine it upon account of this, we shall find that the\nhonest man, provided his other talents are not deficient, always carries\nthe preference in our esteem, before any other, in whatever business he\nthinks fit to employ himself.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XVIII._\n\nThe Fir and a Bramble.\n\nMy head, says the boasting Fir-tree to the humble Bramble, is advanced\namong the stars; I furnish beams for palaces, and masts for shipping;\nthe very sweat of my body is a sovereign remedy for the sick and wounded:\nwhereas thou, O rascally Bramble, runnest creeping in the dirt, and art\ngood for nothing in the world but mischief. I pretend not to vie with\nthee, said the Bramble, in the points thou gloriest in. But, not to\ninsist upon it, that He who made thee a lofty Fir, could have made thee\nan humble Bramble, I pray thee tell me, when the Carpenter comes next\nwith the axe into the wood, to fell timber, whether thou hadst not rather\nbe a Bramble than a Fir-tree?\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Poverty secures a man from many dangers; whereas the rich and\n the mighty are the mark of malice and cross fortune; and still\n the higher they are, the nearer the thunder._\n\n _Minions of fortune, pillars of the state,_\n _Round your exalted heads what tempests low\u2019r!_\n _While peace secure, and soft contentment wait_\n _On the calm mansions of the humble poor._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThe answer of the humble Bramble to the proud Fir-tree is so pathetic,\nthat it may of itself serve for a very good moral to this fable. Nothing\nof God\u2019s works is so mean as to be despised, and nothing so lofty but it\nmay be humbled; nay, and the greater the height the greater the danger.\nFor a proud great man to despise an humble little one, when Providence\ncan so easily exalt the one, and abase the other, and has not for the\nmerit of the one, or the demerit of the other, conferred the respective\nconditions, is a most inexcusable arrogance: and history has given\nnumberless instances, where the overgrown Fir, though a Prime Minister,\nor great Prince, in the very height of its pride, has been forced to\nsubmit to the executioner\u2019s axe, while the humble Bramble, or contented\npoor man, has continued safe and unhurt in his lowly obscurity. We may\nfurther observe on this fable, that there is no state of life but has\nits mixture of good and evil. The Fir may boast of the uses to which it\nis put, and of its strength and stature; but then it has not to boast\nof the creeping Bramble\u2019s safety; for the value of the one tempts the\nCarpenter\u2019s axe, while the poverty of the other makes it little worth any\none\u2019s while to molest it. Upon the whole matter, we may add, _That as\npride or arrogance is a vice that seldom escapes without a punishment; so\nhumility is a virtue that hardly ever goes without a blessing_.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XIX._\n\nThe Fox and the Countryman.\n\nA Fox being hard hunted, and having run a long chase, was quite tired. At\nlast he spied a country fellow in a wood, to whom he applied for refuge,\nentreating that he would give him leave to hide himself in his cottage,\ntill the hounds were gone by. The man consented, and the Fox went and\ncovered himself up close in a corner of the hovel. Presently the hunters\ncame up, and inquired of the man, if he had seen the Fox. No, says he, I\nhave not seen him indeed: but all the while he pointed with his finger to\nthe place where the Fox was hid. However, the hunters did not understand\nhim, but called off their hounds, and went another way. Soon after, the\nFox, creeping out of his hole, was going to sneak off; when the man,\ncalling after him, asked him, if that was his manners, to go away without\nthanking his benefactor, to whose fidelity he owed his life. _Reynard_,\nwho had peeped all the while, and seen what passed, answered, I know what\nobligations I have to you well enough; and I assure you, if your actions\nhad but been agreeable to your words, I should have endeavoured, however\nincapable of it, to have returned you suitable thanks.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _To appear in another\u2019s interest, while underhand we are giving\n intelligence to their enemies, is treacherous, knavish, and\n base._\n\n _Thus by the knave, in worldly guile adept,_\n _Vows are perform\u2019d and promises are kept:_\n _True to the form, and fearful of offence,_\n _Good soul! he swerves from nothing but the sense._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nSincerity is a most beautiful virtue: but there are some, whose natures\nare so poor-spirited and cowardly, that they are not capable of exerting\nit. Indeed, unless a man be steady and constant in all his actions, he\nwill hardly deserve the name of sincere. An open enemy, though more\nviolent and terrible, is not, however, so odious and detestable as a\nfalse friend. To pretend to keep another\u2019s counsel, and appear in their\ninterest, while underhand we are giving intelligence to their enemies,\nis treacherous, knavish, and base. There are some people in the world\nvery dexterous at this kind of defamation; and can, while they seem most\nvehement in the commendation or defence of a friend, throw out a hint\nwhich shall stab their reputation deeper than the most malicious weapon,\nbrandished at them in a public manner, could have been capable of doing.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XX._\n\nA One-Eyed Stag.\n\nA One-Eyed Stag that was afraid of the Huntsmen at land, kept a watch\nthat way, and fed with his blind side towards an arm of the sea, where he\nthought there was no danger. In this hope of security, he was shot, by a\nball from a boat, and so ended his days with this lamentation: Here I am\ndestroyed, says he, where I reckoned myself to be safe on the one hand;\nand no evil has befallen me, where I most dreaded it, on the other. But\nit is my comfort that I intended the best.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _We are liable to many accidents that no care or foresight\n can prevent: but we are to provide, however, the best we can\n against them, and leave the rest to Providence._\n\n _The man whom we fear and suspect for a cheat,_\n _Can hardly delude us with art and deceit;_\n _But he, in whose faith we securely confide,_\n _May come round with impunity on our ~blind side~._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nWe are many times preserved or destroyed by those accidents or counsels\nthat in all probability should have had quite contrary effects. But\nyet it is our part to act according to reason, and commit ourselves to\nHeaven for the rest. The wisest of men have their _follies_ or _blind\nsides_, and have their enemies too, who watch to take advantage of their\nweakness. It behoves us therefore to look to ourselves on the _blind\nside_, as the part that lies most exposed to an attack. And yet, when we\nhave done our best to prevent mischief, the very precaution itself serves\nmany times to contribute to our ruin. In short, the ways and workings of\nProvidence are unsearchable, and it is not in the power of human prudence\nto obviate all the accidents of life.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXI._\n\nA Shepherd and a Young Wolf.\n\nA Shepherd took a Wolf\u2019s sucking Whelp, and trained it up with his Dogs.\nThe Whelp fed with them, grew up with them, and whensoever they went\nout upon the chase of a Wolf, the Whelp would be sure to make one. It\nfell out sometimes that the Wolf escaped; but this domestic Wolf would\nbe still hunting on, after the dogs had given over the chase, till he\ncame up to his true brethren, where he took part of the prey with them,\nand then went back again to his master. And when he could come in for\nno snacks with the Wolves, he would now and then make free, by the by,\nwith a straggling Sheep out of the flock. He carried on this trade for a\nwhile; but at last he was caught in the fact, and hanged by his injured\nmaster.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Men naturally false and treacherous are no more to be\n reclaimed than Wolves. Benefits but augment their power to\n do mischief, and they never fail to make use of it to the\n prejudice of their benefactors._\n\n _The knave profest may seem a gen\u2019rous foe,_\n _Deserves a rope, yet claims our pity too;_\n _But dragg\u2019d to light, and stript of his disguise,_\n _The sneaking hypocrite unpitied dies._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nIll dispositions may be dissembled for a while, but nature is very hardly\nto be altered, either by counsel or education. It may do well enough\nfor curiosity and experiment, to try how far ill-natured men, and other\ncreatures, may be wrought upon by fair usage and good breeding; but the\ninclination and cruelty of the dam will be hardly ever out of the Whelp.\n_Thrust back nature with a pitch-fork_, says the poet, _and it will\nreturn_. This Fable is a true portrait of an ungrateful and treacherous\nmind, which, according to the proverb, _holds with the Hare, and runs\nwith the Hound_; which pretends greater zeal than others, like the Wolf\u2019s\nWhelp in the chase, in the detection and pursuit of a common enemy;\nbut at the same time divides spoils with him, and, rather than want an\nopportunity of doing mischief, will prey privately upon the property he\npretends to defend. Many such instances we might give in public life;\nand there have been too many such also in private life. The punishment\nso richly merited in the Fable is heartily to be wished whenever they\nhappen, and it is a pity it should be wanted.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXII._\n\nSeamen Praying to Saints.\n\nIn a terrible tempest at Sea, one Seaman took notice that the rest of\nhis fellows were praying severally to so many Saints. Have a care, my\nmasters, says he, what you do; for what if we should all be drowned now\nbefore the messenger can deliver his errand? would it not be better,\nwithout going so far about, to pray to Him that can save us without help.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _A wise man will take the nearest and surest way to obtain his\n end, and to commit no business of importance to a proxy, where\n he may do it himself._\n\n _Inactive wishes are but waste of time,_\n _And, without efforts, pray\u2019rs themselves a crime:_\n _Vain are their hopes, who miracles expect,_\n _And ask from heaven what themselves neglect._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nMankind, indolent and discontented, are very apt to murmur at the\ndispensations of Providence, and to call for divine assistance to\nextricate them from their difficulties, when it is in their own power to\naccomplish what they desire. They, who will not stir a finger to promote\ntheir own interest, have little title to expect any foreign assistance:\nbut when they have exerted their utmost skill and assiduity, their\nprayers, if there is need for them, will be enforced by every argument\ndrawn from their own merit, and the compassion of those to whom they make\ntheir application. Industry includes in itself this double blessing:\nIt commonly enables us to gain the point we aim at; and in that case\nheightens the relish of our enjoyments, when we consider that we have\nattained them by our own art and perseverance: but if we should happen\nto fail in our endeavours, it excites the pity of those who are able to\nserve us; and gives a grace to our petitions for assistance and relief.\n\nWhat needs any man make his court to the servants, says Sir _Roger\nL\u2019Estrange_, when his access is open to the Master? and especially when\nthat Master is as ready to give as the petitioner to ask.\n\nWith regard to secular matters, we are told a pleasant story of one of\nour princes, King _Charles_ II. He had often observed a country gentleman\nattending to speak with one of his first ministers; and once passing\nthrough the apartment where the gentleman happened to be alone, he asked\nhim his business. He told him, that he was attending upon his minister,\nas he had often done, for such a post in his Majesty\u2019s gift. The King\nasked him, what he was to give for it to the minister? He said \u00a31000. The\nKing humorously told him he should have it, and bid him give him \u00a3500,\nand keep t\u2019other \u00a3500 himself; and if he or his friends wanted any more\nsuch bargains, he might apply to _himself_ directly, and be served at\nhalf price.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXIII._\n\nA Fox that had lost his Tail.\n\nA Fox taken in a trap was glad to compound for his neck, by leaving his\ntail behind him. It was so uncouth a sight for a Fox to appear without\na tail, that the very thought of it made him weary of his life: but,\nhowever, for the better countenance of the scandal, he got the _Master\nand Wardens of the Foxes\u2019 company_ to call a _Court of Assistants_, where\nhe himself appeared, and made a learned discourse upon the trouble, the\nuselessness, and the indecency of Foxes wearing tails. He had no sooner\nsaid out his say, but up rises a cunning Snap, then at the board, who\ndesired to be informed, whether the worthy member that moved against the\nwearing of tails, gave his advice for the advantage of those that _had\ntails_, or to palliate the deformity and disgrace of those that _had\nnone_.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _It is the way of the world to give other people counsel for\n by-ends. But yet it is a hard matter to over-rule a multitude\n to their own pain and loss._\n\n _Gladly Sir ~Clumsy~ would the world persuade,_\n _Not he, but all mankind are vilely made;_\n _And might the purblind and the deaf advise,_\n _\u2019Twere better for to want both ear and eyes._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nWe may improve a doctrine from this, that every man has his _weak side_,\neither by mischance or by nature; and that he makes it his business to\ncover it, too, the best he can. In case of the worst, it is some sort\nof ease to have company in misfortune. It puts a man out of countenance\nto be in fashion by himself, and therefore the Fox acted cunningly to\ntry if he could bring his fellow Foxes to put themselves into his mode.\nWhen we have carried a point as far as it will go, and can make no more\nof it, it is a stroke of art and philosophy to look as if we did not\nso much as wish for a thing that is not to be had. Every man\u2019s present\ncondition has somewhat to be said for it: if it be uneasy, the skill will\nbe, either how to _mend_ it, or how to _bear_ it; but then there must be\nno clashing with the methods, the decrees, and the laws of nature. A man\nthat has forfeited his honour and his conscience, seems to be much in the\ncondition of the Fox here that had lost his tail; and oftentimes takes as\nmuch pains, too, to persuade all his companions to follow his fashion,\nand be as corrupt as himself, that he may bring the rest of the world\ndown to his own standard.\n\nIn respect to temporal affairs, they, who pretend to advise what measures\nare most conducive to the public welfare, are often guided entirely by\ntheir own private interest: but whenever they counsel any extraordinary\ninnovations, or endeavour to change any established proceedings long used\nand approved, we may be almost certain that they have some other design,\nrather than the promotion of the general good. When new regulations are\nproposed, we should turn our eyes on those who propose them, and consider\nwith attention, whether they have not some personal motives for their\nconduct, and we should be particularly cautious not to suffer ourselves\nto be imposed on by _fine speeches_ and _pretended patriotism_: for _he_\nwho is _very solicitous_ to bring about a scheme, not attended with any\nvisible advantage to the community, must only mean his own benefit; or,\nlike the Fox, when he has been caught himself in one trap, endeavour to\ncatch us in another.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXIV._\n\nA Scoffer Punished.\n\nA Presumptuous Scoffer at things sacred took a journey to _Delphi_,\non purpose to try if he could put a trick upon _Apollo_. He carried a\nsparrow in his hand under his coat, and told the god, _I have something\nin my hand_, says he: _Is it dead or living?_ If the oracle should say it\nwas dead, he could show it alive; if living, it was but squeezing it, and\nthen it was dead. He that saw the iniquity of his heart, gave him this\nanswer: It shall e\u2019en be which of the two thou pleasest: for it is in thy\nchoice to have it either the one or the other, as to the bird, but it is\nnot in thy power as to thyself; and immediately struck the bold scoffer\ndead, for a warning to others.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Presumption naturally leads people to infidelity, and that\n by insensible degrees to atheism: for when men have once cast\n off a reverence for religion, they are come within one step of\n laughing at it._\n\n _That there\u2019s a God all nature loud proclaims,_\n _Tho\u2019 the vile Atheist the great truth disclaims;_\n _Or warp\u2019d by prejudice, or sunk in sin,_\n _His fright\u2019ned conscience feels the lash within._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThere is no playing fast and loose with God Almighty, who sees the very\nthoughts of our hearts. This way of fooling in holy things, is the very\nboldest sort of impiety that can be practised. He that pretends to doubt\nof an All-knowing power, has as much right to doubt of an Almighty power\ntoo; and the bringing of one attribute in question, opens the way to a\ndiffidence of all the rest. It would prevent a great deal of wickedness\nin the world, if men would but live and act in religious matters,\nso as to own and to recognise the force and awe of a Deity in their\n_practices_, as well as in their _words_: but when they come to querying\nand riddling upon it, with an _If it be so and so_, the scandal of the\nsupposition is not to be borne; for such a way of seeming to affirm a\nthing, is but one remove from a flat denial of it. Such was the Scoffer\u2019s\nquestion here to the oracle, which implies both the doubt of a divine\nOmniscience, and a curiosity to discover the truth of the matter, with a\nbanter at the end of it; and so makes a consummated wickedness.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXV._\n\nA Swan and a Stork.\n\nA Stork that was present at the song of a dying Swan, told her, it was\ncontrary to nature to sing so much out of season; and asked her the\nreason of it. Why, says the Swan, I am now entering into a state where I\nshall be no longer in danger of either snares, guns, or hunger; and who\nwould not joy at such a deliverance?\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Death is a certain relief from all the difficulties, pains,\n and hazards of life._\n\n _This life\u2019s a scene of bustle, care, and noise,_\n _Of certain trouble, and uncertain joys,_\n _Death ends the contest, we can only have_\n _A peaceful refuge in the silent grave._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nIt is a great folly to fear that which it is impossible to avoid; and it\nis yet a greater folly to fear the remedy of all evils: for death cures\nall diseases, and frees us from all cares. It is as great a folly again\nnot to prepare ourselves, and provide for an inevitable fate. We are as\nsure to go out of the world, as we are that ever we came into it; and\nnothing but the conscience of a good life can support us in that last\nextremity. The fiction of a Swan\u2019s singing at her death does, in the\nmoral, but advise and recommend it to us to make ready for the cheerful\nentertainment of our last hour, and to consider with ourselves, that if\ndeath be so welcome a relief even to animals, barely as a deliverance\nfrom the cares, miseries, and dangers of a troublesome life, how much a\ngreater blessing ought all good men to account it then, that are not only\nfreed by it from the snares, difficulties, and distractions of a wicked\nworld, but put into possession (over and above) of an everlasting peace,\nand the fruition of joys that shall never have an end!\n\nTo attain this desirable state of mind, it is necessary that we reflect\nfully and frequently on the uncertainty of all worldly affairs, how\nflitting and transitory, and how barren of real happiness, they are; and\nto endeavour at a proper discharge of our duty to _society_, by acting\nwell the part assigned us in it, and managing the talents committed\nto our care, to beneficial ends and purposes; to our _Creator_, by a\nconstant and humble acquiescence in the dispensations of His providence,\nand sincere and grateful acknowledgments for His numberless mercies to\n_ourselves_, by restraining inordinate and unlawful desires, and bridling\nour dissolute and licentious affections, duly considering, that as we\nbear the stamp and image of the Deity, every debasement and pollution\noffered to our persons is an affront and indignity to Him, and contrary\nto His express commands: By a constant attention to these things, we may\nbe enabled to meet death without fear. The consciousness of a well-spent\nlife strips the tyrant of all his terrors; then, like the Swan in the\nFable, we shall consider him as a welcome visitant that will ease us\nof this load of mortality, and usher us into a state of inexpressible\nfelicity.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXVI._\n\nA Swallow and a Spider.\n\nA Spider that observed a Swallow catching of flies, fell immediately\nto work upon a net to catch Swallows; for she looked upon it as an\nencroachment upon her right: but the birds, without any difficulty, brake\nthrough the work, and flew away with the very net itself. Well, says\nthe Spider, bird-catching is none of my talent, I perceive; and so she\nreturned to her old trade of catching flies again.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _A wise man will not undertake anything without means\n answerable to the end._\n\n _They who by imitations covet fame,_\n _Oft incur dangers, and solicit shame;_\n _For though the bright original we prize,_\n _His abject imitator all despise._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nEvery man should examine the strength of his own mind with attention\nand impartiality, and not fondly flatter himself by measuring his own\ntalents by the false standard of the abilities of another. We can no\nmore adopt the genius of another man than assume his shape and person;\nand an imitation of his manner would no more become us than his clothes.\nMan is indeed an imitative animal; but whatever we take from general\nobservation, without servilely copying the practice of any individual,\nbecomes so mixed and incorporated with our notions that it may fairly\nbe called our own. Almost every man has something original in himself,\nwhich, if duly cultivated, might perhaps procure him esteem and applause;\nbut if he neglects his natural talents, or perverts them by an absurd\nimitation of others, he becomes an object of ridicule; especially, if\nhe attempts to perform things beyond the compass of his strength or\nunderstanding.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXVII._\n\nA Dog, a Cock, and a Fox.\n\nA Dog and a Cock took a journey together. The Dog kennelled in the body\nof a hollow tree, and the Cock roosted at night upon the boughs. The\nCock crowed about midnight (at his usual hour), which brought a Fox that\nwas abroad upon the hunt immediately to the tree; and there he stood\nlicking of his lips at the Cock, and, wheedling him to get him down, he\nprotested he never heard so angelical a voice since he was born; and what\nwould not he do now, to hug the creature that had given him so admirable\na serenade? Pray, says the Cock, speak to the porter below to open the\ndoor, and I\u2019ll come down to you. The Fox, little dreaming of the Dog so\nnear, did as he was directed, and the Dog presently seized and worried\nhim.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _When a man has to do with an adversary who is too crafty or\n too strong for him, it is right to turn him off to his match._\n\n _Happy the ready wit of men of parts,_\n _Who on himself can turn the villain\u2019s arts!_\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nExperience makes many a wise man of a fool, and security makes many a\nfool of a wise man. We have an instance of the former in the Cock\u2019s\nover-reaching the Fox; and of the other in the Fox\u2019s supine confidence,\nthat made him so intent upon his prey, as to neglect his safety; and to\nfall himself into the pit that he had digged for another. It is much\nthe same case in the world, when Providence is pleased to confound the\npresumptuous, the false, the mighty, and the bloodthirsty by judgments of\nlice and frogs\u2014that is to say, by the most despicable of instruments; and\nthat frequently at a crisis of time, when they think themselves sure of\nthe success of their mischievous projects.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXVIII._\n\nThe Ants and a Grasshopper.\n\nAs the Ants were airing their provisions one winter, a hungry Grasshopper\nbegged a charity of them. They told him, that he should have wrought\nin summer, if he would not have wanted in winter. Well, says the\nGrasshopper, but I was not idle neither; for I sung out the whole season.\nNay then, said they, you\u2019ll e\u2019en do well to make a merry year of it, and\ndance in winter to the tune that you sung in summer.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Action and industry is the business of a wise and a good man,\n and nothing is so much to be despised as slothfulness._ Go to\n the Ant, thou sluggard, _says the Royal Preacher_, consider her\n ways, and be wise; _which in a few words sums up the moral of\n this fable_.\n\n _O now, while health and vigour still remain._\n _Toil, toil, my lads, to purchase honest gain!_\n _Shun idleness! shun pleasure\u2019s tempting snare!_\n _A youth of revels breeds an age of care._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nIt is hard to say of laziness or luxury, whether it be the more\nscandalous, or the more dangerous evil. The very soul of the slothful\ndoes but lie drowsing in his body, and the whole man is totally given\nup to his senses; whereas the profit and the comfort of industry are\nsubstantial, firm, and lasting; the blessings of security and plenty go\nalong with it, and it is never out of season. What is the Grasshopper\u2019s\nentertainment now, but a summer\u2019s song? A vain and empty pleasure? Let\nit be understood, however, that we are not to pass avarice upon the\nworld under title of good-husbandry and thrift, and thereby utterly to\nextinguish charity. We are indeed, in the first place, to consult our\nown necessities; but we are then to consider, in the second, that the\nnecessities of our neighbours have a Christian right to a part of what we\nhave to spare.\n\nThe stress of this moral lies upon the preference of honest labour to\nidleness; and the refusal of relief, on the one hand, is intended only\nfor a reproof to the inconsiderate loss of opportunity on the other.\nThis does not hinder yet, but that the Ants, out of their abundance,\nought to have relieved the Grasshopper in her distress, though it was\nher own fault that brought her to it; for if one man\u2019s _faults_ could\ndischarge another man of his _duty_, there would be no longer any\nplace left for the common offices of society. To conclude, we have our\nfailings, every one of us; and the improvidence of my neighbour must\nnot make me inhuman. The Ant did well to reprove the Grasshopper for her\nslothfulness; but she did ill, after that, to refuse her charity in her\ndistress.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXIX._\n\nThe Bald Cavalier.\n\nWhen periwigs were first used, and then chiefly to cover the defect of\nbaldness, a certain Cavalier had one for that purpose, which passed\nfor his own hair. But as he was one day riding out with some others a\nhunting, a sudden puff of wind blew off both his wig and his hat, and set\nthe company in a loud laugh at his bald pate. He, for his part, fell a\nlaughing with the rest, and said, Why, really, Gentlemen, this is merry\nenough; for how could I expect to keep other people\u2019s hair, who could not\npreserve my own.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _The edge of a jest is quite blunted and turned off when a man\n has presence of mind to join in it against himself, or begin\n it._\n\n _When the loud laugh prevails at your expense,_\n _All want of temper is but want of sense;_\n _Would you disarm the sneerer of his jest,_\n _Frown not, but laugh in concert with the rest._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nA frank, easy way of openness and candour agrees best with all humours;\nand he that is over solicitous to conceal a defect, often does as good\nas make proclamation of it. And it is a turn of art in many cases, where\na man lies open to ridicule, to anticipate the jest, and make sport with\nhimself first.\n\nThe epigram of _Martial_ upon a lady, who, in a case in point, was for\nhiding a defect like that of the bald Knight, and made use of false hair,\ncarries with it the severer sting, as she was willing and studious to\nconceal it. The Poet, made _English_, says:\u2014\n\n The golden hair that _Galla_ wears\n Is hers: who would have thought it?\n She swears \u2019tis hers\u2014and true she swears,\n For I know _where_ she _bought_ it.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXX._\n\nA Dog and a Cat.\n\nNever were two creatures better together than a Dog and a Cat brought up\nin the same house from a Whelp and a Kitten; so kind, so gamesome and\ndiverting, that it was half the entertainment of the family to see the\ngambols and love-tricks that passed betwixt them. Only it was observed,\nthat still at meal-times, when scraps fell from the table, or a bone was\nthrown to them, they would be snarling and spitting at one another under\nthe table like the worst of foes.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _But as the sun, refulgent globe of light,_\n _By mists obscur\u2019d, may shine more dimly bright;_\n _Or by some sable cloud its lustre veil\u2019d,_\n _Lie hid in darkness from the world conceal\u2019d;_\n _So every joy which mortals here can know_\n _Is damp\u2019d by sorrow, or is mix\u2019d with woe._\n _Pleasure entire, from all assaults secure,_\n _To no one\u2019s granted, no one can ensure._\n _Ungovern\u2019d passions to such heights will rise,_\n _That friendship\u2019s self oft falls a sacrifice;_\n _A fire is kindled in the human breast,_\n _By words misconstru\u2019d, or a simple jest,_\n _As some one relish often spoils a feast._\n _Thus sportful, frisking on the sunny green,_\n _Two lambkins loving are not seldom seen:_\n _Off from the flock they to a distance stray,_\n _And all a battle represent in play;_\n _Till some unlucky thrusts rouse up their rage,_\n _Pretence is gone, in earnest they engage._\n _Those whom she sung, the muse reluctant sees_\n _Differ for causes trivial as these;_\n _And full of anguish, sighing and alone,_\n _Pours out her deep-felt melancholy moan:\u2014_\n _\u201cWhere dwelt their mutual fondness in that hour_\n _When love took leave, and kindness now no more?_\n _Alas! no more, in social converse join\u2019d,_\n _Shall they partake the rapture of the mind?_\n _Placid content, shall fell disgust succeed,_\n _And vexing discord make enjoyment bleed?_\n _Forbid it, Heav\u2019n! and to them gracious deign_\n _Their strict agreeing harmony again!_\n _All jarring thoughts at utmost distance keep,_\n _And bid the former in oblivion sleep!\u201d_\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nHere is a perfect emblem of the practices and friendships of the world.\nWe contract little likings, enter into agreeable conversations, and\npass away the time so merrily and kindly together, that one would think\nit impossible for anything under the sun to break the interest; and yet\nupon the throwing in any cross interest among us, which is all one with\nthe bone under the table; nay, upon a jealous thought, or a mistaken\nword or look, all former bonds are cancelled, the league broken, and the\nfarce concludes in biting and scratching one another\u2019s eyes out. The same\nfigure will serve for princes and states, public persons and private,\nmarried and single; people, in fine, of all professions and pretences.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXXI._\n\nAn Impertinent and Philosopher.\n\nA certain pragmatical, gay, fluttering Coxcomb would needs make a\nvisit to a Philosopher. He found him alone in his study, and fell a\nwondering how he could endure to lead so solitary a life. Sir, says the\nPhilosopher, you are exceedingly mistaken, for I was in very good company\ntill you came in.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _What the noisy and most numerous part of the world calls good\n company, is generally the most irksome and insipid thing in the\n world to a wise man; a mere round of folly and impertinence,\n and void of any kind of instruction or benefit to a reflecting\n mind. How preferable to such a man must it be to converse with\n the learned dead, rather than the unedifying and noisy living?_\n\n _\u201c~Swift~ is obscure, and ~Addison~ wants taste,_\n _~Shakespeare~ is low, and ~Milton~ all bombast\u201d\u2014\n _Thus wit itself half-seeing fools condemn,_\n _And sense and genius are all dark to them._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nIt is one of the most vexatious mortifications, perhaps, of a sober and\nstudious man\u2019s life, to have his thoughts disordered, and the chain of\nhis reason discomposed, by the importunity of a tedious and impertinent\nvisit; especially if it be from a fool of quality, where the station of\nthe man entitles him to all returns of good manners and respect. The\ndrift of this fable is to tell us, that good books and good thoughts\nare the best company, and that they are mistaken, who think a wise\nman can ever be alone. It prepares us also to expect interruptions\nand disappointments, and to provide for them; but withal to take the\nbest care we can to prevent the plague of ill company, by avoiding the\noccasions of it. The linking of a man of brains and honesty, with a\nlewd, insipid companion, is effectually the emblem of that tyrant who\nbound the living and the dead together; and yet this is it which the\nimpertinent takes for the relief of solitude, and that he calls company.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXXII._\n\nThe Fox and the Ass.\n\nAn Ass, finding a Lion\u2019s skin, disguised himself with it, and ranged\nabout the forest, putting all the beasts that saw him into a bodily fear.\nAfter he had diverted himself thus for some time, he met a Fox; and being\ndesirous to fright him too, as well as the rest, he leapt at him with\nsome fierceness, and endeavoured to imitate the roaring of the Lion. Your\nhumble servant, says the Fox; if you had held your tongue, I might have\ntaken you for a Lion, as others did; but now you bray, I know who you\nare.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _The more distant any person is from the thing he affects to\n appear, the stronger will the ridicule be which he excites, and\n the greater the inconveniencies into which he runs himself._\n\n _The fop, with empty jests and silly smile,_\n _Women, or men like women, may beguile;_\n _Howe\u2019er with fools his senseless prate may pass,_\n _The man of sense soon knows him for an Ass._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThis is so trite and common a subject, that there is scarce any one who\nis ignorant of it. A man is known by his words, as a tree is by the\nfruit; and, if we would be apprised of the nature and qualities of any\none, let him but discourse, and he himself will speak them to us, better\nthan another can describe them. We may therefore perceive from this\nfable, how proper it is for those to hold their tongues who would not\ndiscover the shallowness of their understandings.\n\n _Asses and Owls, unseen, themselves betray,_\n _When these attempt to hoot, or those to bray._\n\nThe deepest rivers are most silent: the greatest noise is ever found\nwhere there is the least depth of water. And it is a true observation,\nthat those who are the weakest in understanding, and most slow of\napprehension, are generally the strongest in opinion, and most\nprecipitate in uttering their crude conceptions. When, with a secret awe,\nwe regard the grave address and important mien of some senatorian person,\nwhom we have chanced to meet in a coffee-house, what a speaker do we\noften think he must be, before we hear him speak! his air breathes the\nseriousness of a privy councillor, and his erect aspect the dignity of an\neminent patriot: But he utters himself, and undeceives us; he brays, and\ntells the whole company what he is.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXXIII._\n\nA Boar and a Fox.\n\nAs a Boar was whetting his teeth against a tree, up comes a Fox to him.\nPray, what do you mean by that? says he. I do it, says the Boar, to be in\nreadiness in case of an attack by an enemy. But, replies the Fox, I see\nno occasion for it, for there is no enemy near you. Well, says the Boar,\nbut I see occasion for it; for when I come once to be set upon, it will\nbe too late for me to be whetting when I should be fighting.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _A discreet man should have a reserve of everything that is\n necessary beforehand, that when the time comes for him to make\n use of them, he may not be in a hurry and confusion._\n\n _Wise are the people, who in peace prepare_\n _Their fleets and armies for the distant war;_\n _Who ne\u2019er in treaties and conventions trust,_\n _Nor leave the sword, though it be sheath\u2019d, to rust._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nHe that is not idle when he is at leisure, may play with his business.\nA discreet man should have a reserve of everything that is necessary\nbeforehand; that when the time comes for him to make use of them, he may\nnot be in a hurry and a confusion. A wise General has not his men to\ndiscipline, or his ammunition to provide, when the trumpet sounds _To\nArms_; but sets apart his times of exercise for one, and his magazines\nfor the other, in the calm season of peace. We hope to live to a good\nold age: Should we not, then, lay up a store of conveniences against\nthat time, when we shall be most in want of them, and least able to\nprocure them? We must die; nay, never start; we must. Are there not some\nnecessary things for us to transact before we depart; at least, some\ntrifle or other for us to bequeath, which a sudden stroke may prevent us\nfrom doing? Sure there is. And if so, how inexcusable shall we be, if\nwe defer the execution of it till the alarm comes upon us. _I did not\nthink of it_, is an expression unworthy a wise man\u2019s mouth; and was only\nintended for the use of fools.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXXIV._\n\nThe Discontented Ass.\n\nAn Ass, in a hard winter, wished for a little warm weather, and a\nmouthful of fresh grass to nap upon, in exchange for a heartless truss\nof straw, and a cold lodging. In good time the warm weather and the\nfresh grass came on; but so much toil and business along with it, that\nthe Ass grows quickly as sick of the spring as he was of the winter. He\nnext longs for summer; and when that comes, finds his toils and drudgery\ngreater than in the spring; and then he fancies he shall never be well\ntill autumn comes: but there again, what with carrying apples, grapes,\nfuel, winter provisions, and such like, he finds himself in a greater\nhurry than ever. In fine, when he has trod the circle of the year in a\ncourse of restless labour, his last prayer is for winter again, and that\nhe may but take up his rest where he began his complaint.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _The life of an unsteady man runs away in a course of vain\n wishes, and unprofitable discontent; an unsettled mind can\n never be at rest. There is no season without its business._\n\n _Who lacks the pleasures of a tranquil mind,_\n _Will something wrong in every station find;_\n _His mind unsteady, and on changes bent,_\n _Is always shifting, yet is ne\u2019er content._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThere is no measure to be taken of an unsteady mind: but still it is\neither too much or too little, too soon or too late. The love of novelty\nbegets and increases the love of novelty; and the oftener we change, the\nmore dangerous and troublesome do we find this itch of variety to be. The\nAss was sick of the winter, sicker yet of the spring, more sick still of\nthe summer; and sickest of all of the autumn; till he is brought, in the\nend, to compound for his first condition again, and so take up with that\nfor his satisfaction, which he reckoned upon before for his misfortune.\n\nThus it is, when fickle and foolish people will be prescribing to, and\nrefining upon, the wise and gracious appointments of the Maker of the\nworld. They know not what they _are_, and they know not what they _would\nbe_, any farther, than that they would not be what _they are_. Let their\npresent state in the world be what it will, there is still something or\nother in it that makes their lives wearisome: and they are as peevish\ncompany to themselves too, as they are to their friends and neighbours;\nfor there is not one circumstance in nature, but they shall find matter\nto pick a quarrel at: the _present_ is only the course of so many moments\ninto time _to come_: were it not better then for people at first to sit\ndown contentedly in the post where Providence has placed them, and _to\ndo their duty in that state of life_, as they are early and excellently\ntaught, _to which it has pleased God to call them_, than be forced to do\nit at last, by the dear bought experience of their follies?\n\nThis, however, we say, not to bar honest industry, or a sober application\nto those studies or means that may probably contribute to the mending of\na man\u2019s fortune; provided that he set up his resolution beforehand, not\nto let himself down below the dignity of a wise man, be the issue of his\nendeavours what it will. For he that is not content at _present_, carries\nthe same weakness along with him to the _next remove_; and whoever either\npassionately covets any thing that he has not, or feels himself glutted\nwith a satiety of what he possesses, has already lost his hold: so that\nif we would be happy, we must fix upon some foundation that can never\ndeceive us, and govern ourselves by the measures of sobriety and justice.\n\nIf we look round us in the world, and likewise examine our own hearts,\nwe shall find that one of the principal sources of our discontent, is\nthe making of a false estimate of our own and our neighbours\u2019 abilities,\nand thence drawing conclusions that lead us into difficulties. Does any\ncitizen hold a considerable office? Or is he eminent for his fortune?\nThat _envy_, inherent in our nature, prompts us to examine, by what\ntitle he enjoys those benefits and distinctions, that lift him above\nthe level of the community; the same principle leads us to overlook,\nin some measure, his good qualities, and greatly to exaggerate his bad\nones. We are tempted next to make a comparison between him and ourselves,\nand by looking through the other end of the perspective, imagine that\nthe balance is greatly in our favour, and without further process or\nexamination conclude, that the world ought to abide by our decision;\nhence the numberless disappointments we meet with; hence all the\nuneasiness we feel in every stage and station of life. Were we to pay a\nproper attention to that celebrated sentence of the Delphic oracle,\n\n\u201cKNOW THYSELF,\u201d\n\nwe should experience fewer disappointments, become better members of\nsociety, and enjoy a greater portion of that tranquillity of soul, that\ninternal serenity of mind, without which every station in life, however\ngarnished with honours, however loaded with riches, may be _pronounced\nmiserable_.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXXV._\n\nThe Undutiful Young Lion.\n\nAmong other good counsels that an old experienced Lion gave to his whelp,\nthis was one, that he should never contend with a man: for, says he,\nif ever you do, you\u2019ll be worsted. The little Lion gave his father the\nhearing, and kept the advice in his thought, but it never went near his\nheart. When he came to be grown up, afterwards, and in the flower of his\nstrength and vigour, about he ranges to look for a man to grapple with.\nIn his ramble he met with a yoke of oxen, and then with a horse, saddled\nand bridled, and severally asked them if they were men; but they saying\nthey were not, he goes after this to one that was cleaving of blocks:\nD\u2019ye hear? says the Lion, you seem to be a man: And a man I am, says the\nfellow. That\u2019s well, quoth the Lion, and dare you fight with me? Yes,\nsays the man, I dare: why, I can tear all these blocks to pieces, you\nsee. Put your feet now into this gap, where you see an iron thing there,\nand try what you can do. The Lion presently put his paws into the gaping\nof the wood, and with one lusty pluck made it give way, and out drops the\nwedge; the wood immediately closing upon it, there was the Lion caught by\nthe toes. The Wood-man presently upon this raises the country, and the\nLion finding what a strait he was in, gave one hearty twitch and got his\nfeet out of the trap, but left his claws behind him. So away he goes back\nto his father, all lame and bloody, with this confession in his mouth:\nAlas! my dear father, says he, _this had never been, if I had followed\nyour advice_.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _The vengeance of Heaven, sooner or later, treads upon the\n heels of wilful disobedience to parents._\n\n _When wayward children in the pride of youth,_\n _Scorn wisdom\u2019s precepts, and the curb of truth;_\n _Laugh at experience, and her sagest rules,_\n _And hold restraints the doting fits of fools;_\n _They thoughtless rush, where folly leads the way,_\n _Where evils throng, and vice holds lordly sway._\n _Yet hoary age by long experience knows,_\n _Where vices flourish, and where evil grows;_\n _With cautious fondness for the budding mind,_\n _Warns from the path, where ill with ill\u2019s combin\u2019d;_\n _Whilst heedless youth, in all the pomp of pride,_\n _Spurn at his prudence, and his laws deride._\n _A few short years disperse the dazzling shade,_\n _Which fame excited, and which transports made;_\n _Wearied and pall\u2019d with pleasure\u2019s fleeting joys,_\n _Which madness raves for, and which health destroys;_\n _Too late they find, by sage experience taught,_\n _The rules of age are with true wisdom fraught._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nChildren are not to reason upon obedience to parents, provided there be\nnothing in the command, or in the imposition, that is simply evil; for\nheadstrong and undutiful children seldom escape a remarkable punishment,\nwhich gives them reason to say to their parents, _this had never been, if\nI had followed your advice_.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXXVI._\n\nThe Countryman and Ass.\n\nAn old fellow was feeding an Ass in a fine green meadow; and being\nalarmed with the sudden approach of the enemy, was impatient with the Ass\nto put himself forward, and fly with all the speed that he was able. The\nAss asked him, Whether or no he thought the enemy would clap two pair of\npanniers upon his back? The man said, No, there was no fear of that. Why\nthen, says the Ass, I will not stir an inch; for what is it to me who my\nmaster is, since I shall but carry my panniers as usual?\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Men in a fright, or alarmed with the apprehensions of some\n imminent danger to themselves, often fly for succour to those\n from whom they have not deserved any. It is prudent so to\n behave in our prosperity, as that we may make every one our\n friend in times of adversity: for no one is exempted from the\n mutability of fortune._\n\n _The man that is poor may be void of all care,_\n _If there\u2019s nothing to hope, he has nothing to fear:_\n _Whether stocks rise or fall, or whate\u2019er be the news,_\n _He is sure not to win, and has nothing to lose._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThis fable shows us how much in the wrong the poorer sort of people most\ncommonly are, when they are under any concern about the revolutions of a\ngovernment. All the alteration which they can feel is, perhaps, in the\nname of their sovereign, or some such important trifle. But they cannot\nwell be poorer, or made to work harder than they did before. And yet how\nare they sometimes imposed upon, and drawn in by the artifices of a few\nmistaken or designing men, to foment factions, and raise rebellions, in\ncases where they can get nothing by the success; but, if they miscarry,\nare in danger of suffering an ignominious, untimely death.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXXVII._\n\nJoy and Sorrow.\n\nJoy and Sorrow, two twin-sisters, once quarrelled vehemently who should\nhave the preference; and being unable to decide the matter, left it to\n_Minos_ to determine. He tried all means to make them agree and go hand\nin hand together, as loving sisters ought; but finding his counsel had\nno effect upon them, he decreed that they should be linked together in\na chain; and each of them in turn should be perpetually treading upon\nthe heel of the other; and not a pin matter then, says he, which goes\nforemost.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _No man is to presume in prosperity, or despair in adversity;\n for good and ill fortune do as naturally succeed one another,\n as day and night._\n\n _The Gods one time, as poets feign,_\n _Would ~pleasure~ intermix with ~pain~;_\n _And perfectly incorporate so,_\n _As one from t\u2019other none might know;_\n _That mortals might alike partake_\n _The Good and Evil which they make._\n\n _In mighty bowl they put these twain,_\n _And stirr\u2019d and stirr\u2019d, but all in vain:_\n _~Pleasure~ would sometimes float aloft,_\n _And ~pain~ keep ~pleasure~ down as oft:_\n _Yet still from one another fly,_\n _Detesting either\u2019s company._\n\n _The Gods, who saw they sooner might_\n _Mix fire and water, day and night,_\n _Unanimously then decreed_\n _They should alternately succeed;_\n _Each other\u2019s motions still pursue,_\n _And a perpetual round renew:_\n _Yet still divided should remain,_\n _Tho\u2019 link\u2019d together with a chain._\n\n _Thence comes it that we never see_\n _A perfect bliss or misery;_\n _Each happiness has some alloy;_\n _And ~grief~ succeeded is by ~joy~._\n _The ~happiest~ mortal needs must own_\n _He has a time of ~sorrow~ known:_\n _Nor can the ~poorest~ wretch deny_\n _But in his life he felt a joy._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nIt is the lot of mankind to be happy and miserable by turns. The\nwisdom of Providence will have it so; and it is exceedingly for our\nadvantage that so it should be. There is nothing pure and unmixed under\nthe heavens; and if there were, such an abstracted simplicity would\nbe neither nourishing nor profitable to us. By the mediation of this\nmixture, we have the comfort of Hope to support us in our distresses,\nand the apprehensions of a change to keep a check upon us in the very\npride of our greatness: so that by this vicissitude of _good_ and _evil_\nwe are kept steady in our philosophy and in our religion. The one minds\nus of God\u2019s omnipotence and justice; the other, of His goodness and\nmercy: the one tells us, there is no trusting to our own strength; the\nother preaches faith and resignation in the prospect of an overruling\nProvidence that takes care of us. What is it but sickness that gives\nus a taste of health? bondage, the relish of liberty? and what but the\nexperience of want that enhances the value of plenty? that which we call\nease is only an indolence or a freedom from pain; and there is no such\nthing as felicity or misery but by comparison. It is very true, that\nhopes and fears are the snares of life in some respects, but they are the\nreliefs of it in others. Now for fear of the worst, however, on either\nhand every man has it in his power, by the force of natural reason, to\navoid the danger of falling either into presumption or despair.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXXVIII._\n\nThe Fox and the Ape.\n\nOnce upon a time, the beasts were so void of reason as to choose an Ape\nfor their King. He had danced, and diverted them with playing antic\ntricks, and truly nothing would serve but they must anoint him their\nsovereign. Accordingly crowned he was, and affected to look very wise and\npolitic. But the Fox, vexed at his heart to see his fellow-brutes act so\nfoolishly, was resolved the first opportunity to convince them of their\nsorry choice, and punish their jackanapes of a king for his presumption.\nSoon after, spying a trap in a ditch, which was baited with a piece of\nflesh, he went and informed the Ape of it, as a treasure, which, being\nfound upon the waste, belonged to his Majesty only. The Ape, dreaming\nnothing of the matter, went very briskly to take possession, but had no\nsooner laid his paws upon the bait, than he was caught in the trap;\nwhere, betwixt shame and anger, he began to reproach the Fox, calling him\nrebel and traitor, and threatening to be revenged of him. At all which\n_Reynard_ laughed heartily; and going off, added, with a sneer, You a\nking, and not understand trap!\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _When Apes are in power, Foxes will never be wanting to play\n upon them._\n\n _When nations raise an idiot to the throne,_\n _He shows the people\u2019s weakness and his own._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nA weak man should not aspire to be a king; for if he were, in the\nend it would prove as inconvenient to himself, as disadvantageous to\nthe public. To be qualified for such an office\u2014an office of the last\nimportance to mankind\u2014the person should be of a distinguished prudence\nand most unblemished integrity; too honest to impose upon others, and\ntoo penetrating to be imposed upon; thoroughly acquainted with the laws\nand genius of the realm he is to govern; brave, but not passionate;\ngood-natured, but not soft; aspiring at just esteem; despising\nvain-glory; without superstition; without hypocrisy. When thrones have\nbeen filled by people of a different turn from this, histories show what\na wretched figure they always made; what tools they were to particular\npersons, and what plagues to their subjects in general. They who studied\ntheir passions and entered into their foibles, led them by the nose as\nthey pleased; and took them off from the guardianship of the public, by\nsome paltry amusement, that themselves might have the better opportunity\nto rifle and plunder it.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXXIX._\n\nThe Satyr and the Traveller.\n\nA Satyr, as he was ranging the Forest in an exceeding cold, snowy\nseason, met with a Traveller half-starved with the extremity of the\nweather. He took compassion on him, and kindly invited him home, to a\nwarm comfortable cave he had in the hollow of a rock. As soon as they\nhad entered and sat down, notwithstanding there was a good fire in the\nplace, the chilly Traveller could not forbear blowing his finger ends.\nUpon the Satyr\u2019s asking him why he did so, he answered: That he did it\nto warm his hands. The honest silvan having seen little of the world,\nadmired a man who was master of so valuable a quality as that of blowing\nheat, and therefore was resolved to entertain him in the best manner he\ncould. He spread the table before him with dried fruits of several sorts;\nand produced a remnant of old cordial wine, which, as the rigour of the\nseason made very proper, he mulled with some warm spices, infused over\nthe fire, and presented to his shivering guest. But this the Traveller\nthought fit to blow likewise; and upon the Satyr\u2019s demanding a reason\nwhy he blowed again, he replied: To cool his dish. This second answer\nprovoked the Satyr\u2019s indignation, as much as the first had kindled his\nsurprise. So, taking the man by the shoulder, he thrust him out of doors,\nsaying: He would have nothing to do with a wretch who had so vile a\nquality as to blow hot and cold with the same mouth.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _There is no conversing with any man that carries ~two faces\n under one hood~._\n\n _With such an inmate who would be perplext,_\n _One hour all coldness, and all heat the next!_\n _Who would his fev\u2019rish shiv\u2019ring fits endure?_\n _That ague of the heart, no drug can cure._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThough the poor Traveller in the Fable was not guilty of any real crime\nin what he did, yet one cannot help approving the honest simplicity\nof the Satyr, who could not be reconciled to such double dealing. In\nthe moral sense of the Fable, nothing can be more offensive to one of\na sincere heart, than he that blows with a different breath from the\nsame mouth; who flatters a man to his face, and reviles him behind his\nback. Some again, just like this man, to serve a present view, will blow\nnothing but what is warm, benevolent, and cherishing; and when they have\nraised the expectations of a dependant to a degree which they think may\nprove troublesome, can, with putting on a cold air, easily chill and\nblast all his blooming hopes. But such a temper, whether it proceeds from\na designed or natural levity, is detestable, and has been the cause of\nmuch trouble and mortification to many a brave deserving man. Unless the\ntenor of a man\u2019s life be always true and consistent with itself, the less\none has to do with him the better.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XL._\n\nThe Eagle, the Cat, and the Sow.\n\nAn Eagle had built her nest upon the top branches of an old oak. A wild\nCat inhabited a hole in the middle; and in the hollow part at the bottom\nwas a Sow, with a whole litter of pigs. A happy neighbourhood; and might\nlong have continued so, had it not been for the wicked insinuations of\nthe designing Cat. For, first of all, up she crept to the Eagle; and,\ngood neighbour, says she, we shall be all undone: That filthy Sow yonder\ndoes nothing but lie routing at the foot of the tree, and, as I suspect,\nintends to grub it up, that she may the more easily come at our young\nones. For my part I will take care of my own concerns; you may do as you\nplease, but I will watch her motions, though I stay at home this month\nfor it. When she had said this, which could not fail of putting the\nEagle into a great fright, down she went, and made a visit to the Sow at\nthe bottom; and, putting on a sorrowful face, I hope, says she, you do\nnot intend to go abroad to-day? Why not? says the Sow. Nay, replies the\nother, you may do as you please; but I overheard the Eagle tell her young\nones, that she would treat them with a pig the first time she saw you go\nout; and I am not sure but she may take up with a kitten in the meantime;\nso, good-morrow to you; you will excuse me, I must go and take care of\nthe little folks at home. Away she went accordingly; and, by contriving\nto steal out softly at nights for her prey, and to stand watching and\npeeping all day at her hole, as under great concern, she made such an\nimpression upon the Eagle and the Sow, that neither of them dared to\nventure abroad for fear of the other. The consequence of which was, that\nthemselves, and their young ones, in a little time were all starved, and\nmade prize of by the treacherous Cat and her kittens.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _There can be no peace in any state or family where whisperers\n and tale-bearers are encouraged._\n\n _Ill fares that neighbourhood, where sland\u2019rers meet_\n _With easy faith to back their base deceit:_\n _From house to house the plague of discord spreads,_\n _And brings down ruin on their hapless heads._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nBusy-bodies and intermeddlers are a dangerous sort of people to have to\ndo withal; for there is no mischief that may not be wrought by the craft\nand management of a double tongue, with a foolish credulity to work upon.\nThere is hardly a greater pest to government, to conversation, to the\npeace of societies, relations, and families, than officious tale-bearers\nand busy intermeddlers. These pick-thanks are enough to set mankind\ntogether by the ears; they live upon calumny and slander, and cover\nthemselves, too, under the seal of secrecy and friendship; these are\nthe people who _set their neighbours\u2019 houses on fire to roast their own\neggs_. The sin of traducing is diabolical, according to the very letter;\nand if the office be artificially managed, it is enough to put the whole\nworld into a flame, and nobody the wiser which way it came. The mischief\nmay be promoted, by misrepresenting, misunderstanding, or misinterpreting\nour neighbour\u2019s thoughts, words, and deeds; and no wound so mortal, as\nthat where the poison works under a pretence of kindness: nay, there are\nways of commendation, and insinuations of affection and esteem, that\nkill a man as sure as a bullet. This practice is the bane of trust and\nconfidence; and it is as frequent in the intrigues of courts and states,\nas in the most ordinary accidents of life. It is enough to break the\nneck of all honest purposes, to stifle all generous and public-spirited\nmotions, and to suppress all honourable inclinations in the very\nconception. But, next to the practice of these lewd offices, deliver all\nhonest men, say I, from lying at the mercy of those that encourage and\nentertain them.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XLI._\n\nThe Cock and the Fox.\n\nA Cock being perched among the branches of a lofty Tree, crowed aloud,\nso that the shrillness of his voice echoed through the wood and invited\na Fox to the place, who was prowling in that neighbourhood, in quest of\nhis prey. But _Reynard_, finding the Cock was inaccessible, by reason\nof the height of his situation, had recourse to stratagem, in order to\ndecoy him down; so, approaching the tree, Cousin, says he, I am heartily\nglad to see you; but at the same time I cannot forbear expressing my\nuneasiness at the inconvenience of the place, which will not let me pay\nmy respects to you in a handsomer manner; though I suppose you will come\ndown presently, and so that difficulty is easily removed. Indeed, Cousin,\nsays the Cock, to tell you the truth I don\u2019t think it safe to venture\nmyself upon the ground, for though I am convinced how much you are my\nfriend, yet I may have the misfortune to fall into the clutches of some\nother beast, and what will become of me then? O dear, says _Reynard_, is\nit possible that you can be so ignorant, as not to know of the peace that\nhas been lately proclaimed between all kinds of birds and beasts; and\nthat we are, for the future, to forbear hostilities on all sides, and to\nlive in the utmost love and harmony, and that under penalty of suffering\nthe severest punishment that can be inflicted? All this while the Cock\nseemed to give little attention to what was said, but stretched out his\nneck, as if he saw something at a distance: Cousin, says the Fox, what\u2019s\nthat you look at so earnestly? Why, says the Cock, I think I see a pack\nof hounds yonder a little way off. Oh then, says the Fox, your humble\nservant, I must be gone. Nay, pray, Cousin, don\u2019t go, says the Cock, I\u2019m\njust coming down; sure you are not afraid of dogs in these peaceable\ntimes. No, no, says he; but ten to one whether they have heard of the\nproclamation yet.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Perfidious people are naturally to be suspected in reports\n that favour their own interest._\n\n _Take courage, hence, ye wise, nor dread deceit;_\n _Good sense and craft, how seldom do they meet!_\n _Tho\u2019 keen, yet feeble, are the sharper\u2019s tools,_\n _And cunning\u2019s the peculiar gift of fools._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nIt is a very agreeable thing to see craft repelled by cunning; more\nespecially to behold the snares of the wicked broken and defeated by the\ndiscreet management of the innocent. The moral of this Fable principally\nputs us in mind, not to be too credulous towards the insinuations of\nthose who are already distinguished by their want of faith and honesty.\nWhen, therefore, any such would draw us into a compliance with their\ndestructive measures, by a pretended civility and extraordinary concern\nfor our interest, we should consider such proposals in their true light,\nas a bait artfully placed to conceal the fatal hook, which is intended to\ndraw us into captivity and thraldom. An honest man, with a little plain\nsense, may do a thousand advantageous things for the public good; and,\nwithout being master of much address or rhetoric, as easily convince\npeople that his designs are intended for their welfare. But a wicked\ndesigning politician, though he has a tongue as eloquent as ever spoke,\nmay sometimes be disappointed in his projects and be foiled in his\nschemes; especially when their destructive texture is so coarsely spun,\nand the threads of mischief are so large in them, as to be seen even by\nthose whose senses are scarce perfect enough to see and understand them.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XLII._\n\nAge to be Honoured.\n\nA pert and inconsiderate young Man happened to meet an old Man, whose age\nand infirmity had brought his body almost to the shape of a bent bow.\nPray, father, says he, will you sell your bow? Save your money, you fool,\nsays the other; for when you come to my years, you shall have such a bow\nfor nothing.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _There cannot be a greater folly and impertinence, than that of\n young men scoffing at the infirmities of age._\n\n _Though vig\u2019rous health thy tide of life sustains,_\n _And youthful manhood revels in thy veins:_\n _With rev\u2019rend awe regard the bending sage,_\n _Nor thoughtless mock th\u2019 infirmities of age._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nWe are all born to die, and it is every jot as certain that we shall go\nout of the world, as that we are already come into it: we are helpless in\ninfancy; ungovernable in youth; our strength and vigour scarce outlast\na morning sun; our infirmities hasten upon us as our years advance, and\nwe grow helpless in our old age as in our infancy. What, then, have the\nbest of us to boast of? Even time and human frailty alone will bring us\nto our end without the help of any accidents or distempers; so that our\ndecays are as much the works of nature, as the first principles of our\nbeing; and the young man\u2019s conceit of the crooked bow is no better than\nan irreverent way of making sport with the course of Providence; besides\nshewing the folly of scoffing at that in another which he himself was\nsure to come to at last, or worse.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XLIII._\n\nThe Splenetic Traveller.\n\nA splenetic and a facetious man were once upon a journey: the former went\nslugging on with a thousand cares and troubles in his head, exclaiming\nover and over: \u201cLord, what shall I do to live?\u201d The other jogged merrily\naway, and left his matters to Providence and good fortune. \u201cWell,\nbrother,\u201d says the sorrowful wight, \u201chow can you be so frolicksome now?\nAs I am a sinner, my heart\u2019s e\u2019en ready to break for fear I should want\nbread.\u201d \u201cCome, come,\u201d says the other, \u201cfall back, fall edge, I have fixed\nmy resolution, and my mind\u2019s at rest.\u201d \u201cAy, but for all that,\u201d says the\nother, \u201cI have known the confidence of as resolute people as yourself\nhas deceived them in the conclusion;\u201d and so the poor man fell into\nanother fit of doubting and musing, till he started out of it all on a\nsudden: \u201cGood Sir!\u201d says he, \u201cwhat if I should fall blind?\u201d and so he\nwalked a good way before his companion with his eyes shut, to try how\nit would be if that misfortune should befall him. In this interim, his\nfellow-traveller, who followed him, found a purse of money upon the way,\nwhich rewarded his trust in Providence; whereas the other missed that\nencounter as a punishment of his distrust; for the purse had been his, as\nhe went first, if he had not put himself out of condition of seeing it.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _He that commits himself to Providence is sure of a friend in\n time of need; while an anxious distrust of the divine goodness\n makes a man more and more unworthy of it, and miserable\n beforehand for fear of being so afterwards._\n\n _Who with vain fancies do themselves possess,_\n _Are never bless\u2019d, or can never bless;_\n _Their life perplex\u2019d, and fretful to no end\u2014_\n _The truly wise on Providence depend._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThe two opposite humours of a cheerful trust in Providence and a\nsuspicious diffidence of it, with the ordinary effects and consequences\nof the one and the other, are very well set forth here for our\ninstruction and comfort. The Divine goodness never fails those that\ndepend upon it, provided that, according to the advice of _Hercules_ to\nthe _Carter_, they put their own shoulders to the work.\n\nThe most wretched sort of people under the sun are your dreamers upon\nevents, your low-spirited foreboders, supposers, and putters of cases:\nthey are still calculating within themselves, what if this or that\ncalamity, judgment, or disaster should befall them? and so they really\nsuffer the evils they dread most. It is very certain, that what we _fear_\nwe _feel_; besides that, fancy breeds misery as naturally as it does the\nsmall-pox. Set a whimsical head once agog upon sprites and goblins, and\nhe will be ready to squirt his wits at his own shadow. There is no surer\nremedy for this superstitious and desponding weakness, than first to\ngovern ourselves by the best improvement of that reason which Providence\nhas given us for a guide; and then, when we have done our own part, to\ncommit all cheerfully for the rest to the good pleasure of Heaven, with\ntrust and resignation. Why should I not as well comfort myself with the\n_hope_ of what may be, as torment myself with the _fear_ of it? he that\ndistrusts in God\u2019s providence, does effectually put himself out of His\nprotection.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XLIV._\n\nThe Young Man and the Swallow.\n\nA prodigal young spendthrift, who had wasted his whole patrimony in\ntaverns and gaming-houses among lewd, idle company, was taking a\nmelancholy walk near a brook. It was in the month of _January_, and\nhappened to be one of those warm sunshiny days which sometimes smile\nupon us even in that wintry season of the year; and to make it the more\nflattering, a swallow, which had made its appearance by mistake too soon,\nflew skimming along upon the surface of the water. The giddy youth,\nobserving this, without any further consideration, concluded that summer\nwas now come, and that he should have little or no occasion for clothes,\nso went and pawned them at the broker\u2019s, and ventured the money for one\nstake more, among his sharping companions. When this too was gone the\nsame way with the rest, he took another solitary walk in the same place\nas before. But the weather, being severe and frosty, had made everything\nlook with an aspect very different from what it did before: the brook was\nquite frozen over, and the poor swallow lay dead upon the bank of it; the\nvery sight of which cooled the young spark\u2019s brains, and coming to a kind\nof sense of his misery, he reproached the deceased bird as the author of\nall his misfortunes: Ah, wretch that thou wert! says he, thou hast undone\nboth thyself and me, who was so credulous as to depend upon thee.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Some will listen to no conviction but what they derive from\n fatal experience._\n\n _Still blind to reason, nature, and his God,_\n _~Youth~ follows ~pleasure~, till he feels the rod_\n _Of ~sad experience~, then bemoans his fate,_\n _Nor sees his ~folly~ till it is too late._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThey who frequent taverns and gaming-houses, and keep bad company,\nshould not wonder if they are reduced, in a very small time, to penury\nand want. The wretched young fellows who once addict themselves to such\na scandalous kind of life, scarce think of, or attend to, any one thing\nbesides. They seem to have nothing else in their heads, but how they may\nsquander what they have got, and where they may get more when that is\ngone. They do not make the same use of their reason that other people\ndo; but, like the jaundiced eye, view everything in that false light in\nwhich their distemper and debauchery represent it. The young man in the\nFable gives us a pretty example of this; he sees a swallow in the midst\nof winter, and instead of being surprised at it, as a very irregular and\nextraordinary thing, concludes from thence that it is summer, as if he\nhad never thought before about the season. Well, the result of this wise\nconclusion is of a piece with the conclusion itself; if it is summer, he\nshall not want so many clothes, therefore he sells them,\u2014for what? For\nmore money to squander away; as if (had his observation been just) summer\nwould have lasted all the year round. But the true result and conclusion\nof all this is: When both his money and clothes are irrecoverably gone,\nhe comes to his right senses, is ready to perish with hunger, to starve\nwith cold, and to tear his own flesh with remorse and vexation at his\nformer stupidity.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XLV._\n\nThe Brother and Sister.\n\nA certain man had two children, a son and a daughter: The boy beautiful\nand handsome enough; the girl not quite so well. They were both very\nyoung, and happened one day to be playing near the looking-glass, which\nstood on their mother\u2019s toilet. The boy, pleased with the novelty of the\nthing, viewed himself for some time, and, in a wanton roguish manner,\ntook notice to the girl how handsome he was. She resented it, and could\nnot bear the insolent manner in which he did it; for she understood it\n(how could she do otherwise) as intended for a direct affront to her.\nTherefore she ran immediately to her father, and, with a great deal of\naggravation, complained of her brother; particularly, for having acted\nso effeminate a part as to look in a glass, and meddle with things which\nbelonged to women only. The father, embracing them both with much\ntenderness and affection, told them, that he should like to have them\nboth look in the glass every day; to the intent that you, says he to the\nboy, if you think that face of yours handsome, you may not disgrace and\nspoil it by an ugly temper and a foul behaviour. You, says he, speaking\nto the girl, that you may make up for the defects of your person, if\nthere be any, by the sweetness of your manners and the agreeableness of\nyour conversation.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _We often make a false estimate in preferring our ornamental\n talents to our useful ones._\n\n _Ill manners may deform the fairest face,_\n _But gentleness gives ugliness a grace:_\n _Sure snarling ~Veny\u2019s~ beauty less we prize,_\n _Than ~Pug\u2019s~ black nose with his good-natured eyes._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThere is scarce anything we see in the world, especially what belongs to\nand hangs about our own person, but is capable of affording us matter for\nsome serious and useful consideration. And this Fable, notwithstanding\nthe scene of it is laid at the very beginning and entrance of life, yet\nutters a doctrine worthy the attention of every stage and degree thereof,\nfrom the child to the old man. Let each of us take a glass, and view\nhimself considerately. He that is vain and self-conceited, will find\nbeauties in every feature, and his whole shape will be without fault.\nLet it be so; yet, if he would be complete, he must take care that the\ninward man does not detract from and disgrace the outward; that the\ndepravity of his manners does not spoil his face, nor the wrongness of\nhis behaviour distort his limbs; or, which is the same thing, make his\nwhole person odious and detestable to the eye of his beholders. Is any\none modest in this respect, and deficient of himself? Or has he indeed\nblemishes and imperfections, which may depreciate him in the sight of\nmankind? Let him strive to improve the faculties of the mind, where\nperhaps nature has not crampt him; and to excel in the beauties of a good\ntemper and an agreeable conversation, the charms of which are so much\nmore lasting and unalterably endearing, than those of the other sort.\nThey who are beautiful in person have this peculiar advantage, that,\nwith a moderate regard to complaisance and good manners, they bespeak\nevery one\u2019s opinion in their favour. But then, be the outside of a man\never so rough and uncouth, if his acquired accomplishments are but sweet\nand engaging, how easily do we overlook the rest, and value him, like an\noriental jewel, not by a glittering outside, which is common to baser\nstones, but by his true intrinsic worth, his bright imagination, his\nclear reason, and the transparent sincerity of his honest heart.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XLVI._\n\nThe Mice in Council.\n\nThe Mice called a General Council; and, having met, after the doors were\nlocked, entered into a free consultation about ways and means how to\nrender their fortunes and estates more secure from the danger of the Cat.\nMany things were offered, and much was debated, _pro_ and _con_, upon the\nmatter. At last a young Mouse, in a fine florid speech, concluded upon an\nexpedient, and that the only one, which was to put them, for the future,\nentirely out of the power of the enemy: and this was, that the Cat should\nwear a bell about her neck, which upon the least motion would give the\nalarm, and be a signal for them to retire into their holes. This speech\nwas received with great applause, and it was even proposed by some, that\nthe Mouse who made it should have the thanks of the assembly. Upon\nwhich, an old grave Mouse, who had sat silent all the while, stood up,\nand in another speech, owned that the contrivance was admirable, and the\nauthor of it, without doubt, an ingenious Mouse; but, he said, he thought\nit would not be so proper to vote him thanks, till he should farther\ninform them how this bell was to be fastened about the Cat\u2019s neck, and\nwhat Mouse would undertake to do it.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _The different lights, in which things appear to different\n judgments, recommend candour to the opinions of others, even at\n the time we retain our own._\n\n _Not urged by vain ~ambition\u2019s~ airy dreams,_\n _Or specious ~wit~, does ~wisdom~ form her schemes,_\n _Poise well the scales, with due ~reflection~ scan_\n _The ~means proposed~, and then adopt a plan._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nMany things appear feasible in speculation, which are afterwards found\nto be impracticable. And since the execution of anything is that which\nis to complete and finish its very existence, what raw counsellors are\nthose who advise, what precipitate politicians those who proceed, to\nthe management of things in their nature incapable of answering their\nown expectations, or their promises to others. At the same time, the\nFable teaches us not to expose ourselves in any of our little politic\ncoffee-house committees, by determining what should be done upon every\noccurrence of maladministration, when we have neither commission\nnor power to execute it. He that, upon such occasion, adjudges, as a\npreservative for the state, that this or that should be applied to the\nneck of those who have been enemies to it, will appear full as ridiculous\nas the Mouse in the Fable, when the question is asked, Who shall put it\nthere? In reality we do but expose ourselves to the hatred of some, and\nthe contempt of others, when we inadvertently utter our impracticable\nspeculations, in respect of the public, either in private company or\nauthorised assemblies.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XLVII._\n\nThe Old Man and Death.\n\nA poor feeble old man, who had crawled out into a neighbouring wood\nto gather a few sticks, had made up his bundle, and, laying it over\nhis shoulders, was trudging homeward with it; but, what with age, and\nthe length of the way, and the weight of his burden, he grew so faint\nand weak that he sunk under it; and, as he sat on the ground, called\nupon Death to come, once for all, and ease him of his troubles. Death\nno sooner heard him, but he came and demanded of him what he wanted.\nThe poor old creature, who little thought Death had been so near, and\nfrightened almost out of his senses with his terrible aspect, answered\nhim trembling: That having by chance let his bundle of sticks fall, and\nbeing too infirm to get it up himself, he had made bold to call upon him\nto help him; that, indeed, this was all he wanted at present; and that he\nhoped his Worship was not offended with him for the liberty he had taken\nin so doing.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Men under calamity may seem to wish for death; but they seldom\n bid him welcome when he stares them in the face._\n\n _\u201cOh with what joy would I resign my breath!\u201d_\n _The wretch exclaims, and prays for instant death:_\n _The fiend approaching, he inverts his pray\u2019r,_\n _\u201cOh grant me life, and double all my care!\u201d_\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThis Fable gives us a lively representation of the general behaviour of\nmankind towards that grim king of terrors, Death. Such liberties do they\ntake with him behind his back, that upon every little cross accident\nwhich happens in their way, Death is immediately called upon; and they\neven wish it might be lawful for them to finish by their own hands a\nlife so odious, so perpetually tormenting and vexatious. When, let but\nDeath only offer to make his appearance, and the very sense of his near\napproach almost does the business: Oh then, all they want is a longer\nlife; and they would be glad to come off so well, as to have their old\nburden laid upon their shoulders again. One may well conclude what an\nutter aversion they, who are in youth, health, and vigour of body, have\nto dying, when age, poverty, and wretchedness, are not sufficient to\nreconcile us to the thought.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XLVIII._\n\nThe Crow and the Pitcher.\n\nA Crow, ready to die with thirst, flew with joy to a pitcher which he\nbeheld at some distance. When he came, he found water in it indeed, but\nso near the bottom, that with all his stooping and straining, he was not\nable to reach it. Then he endeavoured to overturn the pitcher, that so at\nleast he might be able to get a little of it; but his strength was not\nsufficient for this. At last, seeing some pebbles lie near the place, he\ncast them one by one into the pitcher; and thus, by degrees, raised the\nwater up to the very brim, and satisfied his thirst.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _What we cannot compass by force, we may by invention and\n industry._\n\n _When ~frowning~ fates thy sanguine ~hopes~ defeat,_\n _And virtuous aims with ~disappointment~ meet,_\n _Submit not to ~despair~, th\u2019 attempt renew,_\n _And rise ~superior~ to the ~vulgar~ crew_.\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nMany things which cannot be effected by strength, or by the old vulgar\nway of enterprising, may yet be brought about by some new and untried\nmeans. A man of sagacity and penetration, upon encountering a difficulty\nor two, does not immediately despair; but if he cannot succeed one\nway, employs his wit and ingenuity another; and, to avoid or get over\nan impediment, makes no scruple of stepping out of the path of his\nforefathers. Since our happiness, next to the regulation of our minds,\ndepends altogether upon our having and enjoying the conveniences of life,\nwhy should we stand upon ceremony about the methods of obtaining them,\nor pay any deference to antiquity upon that score? If almost every age\nhad not exerted itself in some new improvements of its own, we should\nwant a thousand arts; or, at least, many degrees of perfection in every\nart, which at present we are in possession of. The invention of anything\nwhich is more commodious for the mind or body than what they had before,\nought to be embraced readily, and the projector of it distinguished with\na suitable encouragement. Such as the use of the compass, for example,\nfrom which mankind reaps so much benefit and advantage, and which was\nnot known to former ages. When we follow the steps of those who have\ngone before us in the old beaten tract of life, how do we differ from\nhorses in a team, which are linked to each other by a chain of harness,\nand move on in a dull, heavy pace to the tune of their leader\u2019s bells?\nBut the man who enriches the present fund of knowledge with some new\nand useful improvement, like a happy adventurer at sea, discovers, as\nit were, an unknown land, and imports an additional trade into his own\ncountry.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XLIX._\n\nThe Fox and the Grapes.\n\nA Fox, very hungry, chanced to come into a Vineyard, where there hung\nmany bunches of charming ripe grapes; but nailed up to a trellis so high,\nthat he leaped till he quite tired himself without being able to reach\none of them. At last, Let who will take them! says he; they are but green\nand sour; so I\u2019ll even let them alone.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _When a man finds it impossible to obtain the things he longs\n for, it is a mark of sound wisdom and discretion to make a\n virtue of necessity._\n\n _Old maids who loathe the matrimonial state,_\n _Poor rogues who laugh to scorn the rich and great,_\n _Patriots who rail at placemen and at pow\u2019r,_\n _All, like sly ~Reynard~, say \u201c~The Grapes are sour.~\u201d_\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThis Fable is a good reprimand to a parcel of vain coxcombs in the world,\nwho, because they would never be thought to be disappointed in any of\ntheir pursuits, pretend a dislike to everything which they cannot obtain.\nThere is a strange propensity in mankind to this temper, and there are\nnumbers of grumbling malcontents in every different faculty and sect in\nlife. The discarded statesman, considering the corruption of the times,\nwould not have any hand in the administration of affairs for all the\nworld. The country squire damns a court life, and would not go cringing\nand creeping to a drawing-room for the best place the King has in his\ndisposal. A young fellow, being asked how he liked a celebrated beauty,\nby whom all the world knew he was despised, answered, She had a stinking\nbreath. How insufferable is the pride of this poor creature man! who\nwould stoop to the basest, vilest actions, rather than be thought not\nable to do anything. For what is more base and vile than lying? And when\ndo we lie more notoriously, than when we disparage and find fault with a\nthing for no other reason but because it is out of our power.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE L._\n\nThe Viper and the File.\n\nA Viper entering a smith\u2019s shop, looked up and down for something to eat,\nand seeing a File, fell to gnawing it as greedily as could be. The File\ntold him, very gruffly, that he had best be quiet and let him alone; for\nthat he would get very little by nibbling at one, who, upon occasion,\ncould bite iron and steel.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _It\u2019s the fate of envy to attack those characters that are\n superior to its malice._\n\n _Witlings! beware, nor wantonly provoke_\n _Those who with int\u2019rest may repay the joke;_\n _Some claim our pity who fall preys to wit,_\n _But all men triumph o\u2019er the ~Biter Bit~._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nBy this Fable we are cautioned to consider what any person is, before\nwe make an attack upon him after any manner whatsoever: Particularly\nhow we let our tongues slip in censuring the actions of those who are,\nin the opinion of the world, not only of an unquestioned reputation, so\nthat nobody will believe what we insinuate against them; but of such\nan influence, upon account of their own veracity, that the least word\nfrom them would ruin our credit to all intents and purposes. If wit be\nthe case, and we have a satirical vein, which at certain periods must\nhave a flow, let us be cautious at whom we level it; for if the person\u2019s\nunderstanding be of better proof than our own, all our ingenious sallies,\nlike liquor squirted against the wind, will recoil back upon our own\nfaces, and make us the ridicule of every spectator. This Fable, besides,\nis not an improper emblem of Envy; which, rather than not bite at all,\nwill fall foul where it can hurt nothing but itself; and such is its\nmalignancy, that the greatest wits and brightest characters in all ages\nhave ever been the objects of its attack. Ought we not, then, to guard\nagainst the admission of an inmate that not only attempts to injure the\nvirtuous part of mankind, but also effectually ruins the peace of its\npossessor?\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE LI._\n\nThe Mountains in Labour.\n\nThe Mountains were said to be in labour, and uttered most dreadful\ngroans. People came together, far and near, to see what birth would be\nproduced; and after they had waited a considerable time in expectation,\nout crept a mouse.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _To raise uncommon expectations renders an ordinary event\n ridiculous._\n\n _Thus the vain Alchymist, in promise bold,_\n _Beholds projection big with MINES of GOLD:_\n _But now, his glasses burst, he thinks him rich_\n _To save ~a little oil to cure the itch~._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nGreat cry and little wool, is the _English_ proverb; the sense of which\nbears an exact proportion to this Fable. By which are exposed, all those\nwho promise something exceeding great, but come off with a production\nridiculously little. Projectors of all kinds, who endeavour by artificial\nrumours to raise the expectations of mankind, and then by their mean\nperformances defeat and disappoint them, have, time out of mind, been\nlashed with the recital of this Fable. How agreeably surprising is\nit to see an unpromising favourite, whom the caprice of fortune has\nplaced at the helm of state, serving the commonwealth with justice and\nintegrity, instead of smothering and embezzling the public treasure to\nhis own private and wicked ends! And on the contrary, how melancholy,\nhow dreadful! or rather, how exasperating and provoking a sight is it to\nbehold one, whose constant declarations for liberty and the public good\nhave raised people\u2019s expectations of him to the highest pitch, as soon\nas he is got into power exerting his whole art and cunning to ruin and\nenslave his country! The sanguine hopes of all those that wished well to\nvirtue, and flattered themselves with a reformation of everything that\nopposed the well-being of the community, vanish away in smoke, and are\nlost in a dark, gloomy, uncomfortable prospect.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE LII._\n\nThe Two Frogs.\n\nOne hot sultry summer, the lakes and ponds being almost everywhere dried\nup, a couple of Frogs agreed to travel together in search of water. At\nlast they came to a deep well, and sitting upon the brink of it, began\nto consult, whether they should leap in or no. One of them was for it;\nurging, that there was plenty of clear spring water, and no danger of\nbeing disturbed. Well, says t\u2019other, all this may be true; and yet I\ncan\u2019t come into your opinion for my life: For, if the water should happen\nto dry up here too, how should we get out again?\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _We ought never to change our situation in life, without duly\n considering the consequences of such a change._\n\n _On things of ~moment~ with thyself debate._\n _Nor, inconsiderate, ~change~ thy present state,_\n _Nor on the ~specious good~ lay too much stress,_\n _Lest ~greater~ Ills incur, in shunning ~less~._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThe moral of this Fable is intended to put us in mind _to look before we\nleap_. That we should not undertake any action of importance, without\nconsidering first, what the event of it is like to prove, and how we\nshall be able to come off, upon such and such provisos. A good General\ndoes not think he diminishes anything of his character when he looks\nforward, beyond the main action, and concerts measures, in case there\nshould be occasion, for a safe retreat.\n\nHow many unfortunate matches are struck up every day for want of this\nwholesome consideration? Profuse living, and extravagant gaming, both\nwhich terminate in the ruin of those that follow them, are mostly owing\nto a neglect of this precaution. Wicked counsellors advise, and ignorant\nprinces execute those things, which afterwards they often dearly repent.\nWars are begun by this blind stupidity, from which a state is not able\nto extricate itself with either honour or safety; and projects are\nencouraged by the rash accession of those, who never considered how they\nwere to get out, till they had plunged themselves irrecoverably into\nthem.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE LIII._\n\nThe Thief and the Dog.\n\nA thief coming to rob a certain house in the night, was disturbed in his\nattempts by a fierce vigilant dog who kept barking at him continually.\nUpon which the thief, thinking to stop his mouth, threw him a piece of\nbread: But the dog refused it with indignation; telling him, that before,\nhe only suspected him to be a bad man; but now, upon his offering to\nbribe him, he was confirmed in his opinion; and that, as he was entrusted\nwith the guardianship of his master\u2019s house, he should never cease\nbarking while such a rogue as he lay lurking about it.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Nothing can alter the honest purposes of the man, who despises\n an insidious bribe; and whose mind is proof against temptation._\n\n _~Faithful~ to ~man~, and to thy conscience ~just~,_\n _~Spurn~ him who ~tempts~ thee to ~betray~ thy trust._\n _An ~honest mind\u2019s~ the choicest gift of ~heav\u2019n~,_\n _How ~blest~ to whom th\u2019 ~etherial spark~ is given!_\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nA man who is very free in his protestations of friendship, or offers\nof great civility, upon the first interview may meet with applause and\nesteem from fools, but contrives his schemes of that sort to little or no\npurpose, in the company of men of sense.\n\nIt is a common and known maxim, to suspect an enemy, even the more, for\nhis endeavouring to convince us of his benevolence; because the oddness\nof the thing puts us upon our guard, and makes us conclude, that some\npernicious design must be couched under so sudden and unexpected a turn\nof behaviour: But it is no unnecessary caution to be upon the watch\nagainst even indifferent people, when we perceive them uncommonly forward\nin their approaches of civility and kindness. The man, who at first sight\nmakes us an offer, which is due only to particular and well-acquainted\nfriends, must be either a knave, and intends by such a bait to draw\nus into his net; or a fool, with whom we ought to avoid having any\ncommunication.\n\nThus far the consideration of this Fable may be useful to us in private\nlife; what it contains farther, in relation to the public, is, That a\nman, truly honest, will never let his mouth be stopped with a bribe;\nbut the greater the offer is which is designed to buy his silence, the\nlouder and more constantly will he open against the miscreants who would\npractise it upon him.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE LIV._\n\nHercules and the Carter.\n\nAs a clownish fellow was driving his Cart along a deep miry lane, the\nwheels stuck so fast in the clay, that the horses could not draw them\nout. Upon this, he fell a bawling and praying to _Hercules_ to come and\nhelp him. _Hercules_ looking down from a cloud, bid him not lie there,\nlike an idle rascal as he was, but get up and whip his horses stoutly,\nand clap his shoulder to the wheel, adding, That this was the only way\nfor him to obtain his assistance.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Prayers and wishes amount to nothing: We must put forth our\n own honest endeavours to obtain success on the assistance of\n heaven._\n\n _Inactive wishes are but waste of time,_\n _And, without efforts, pray\u2019rs themselves a crime:_\n _Vain are their hopes who miracles expect,_\n _And ask from heaven what themselves neglect._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThis Fable shews us how vain and ill-grounded the expectations of those\npeople are, who imagine they can obtain whatever they want by importuning\nheaven with their prayers; for it is so agreeable to the nature of the\nDivine Being, to be better pleased with virtuous actions and an honest\nindustry, than idle Prayers, that it is a sort of blasphemy to say\notherwise. These were the sentiments of honest good heathens, who were\nstrangers to all revealed religion: But it is not strange that they\nshould embrace and propagate such a notion, since it is no other than the\ndictate of common reason. What is both strange in itself, and surprising\nhow it could be made so fashionable, is, that most of those whose reason\nshould be enlightened by Revelation, are very apt to be guilty of this\nstupidity, and, by praying often for the comforts of life, to neglect\nthat business which is the proper means of procuring them. How such a\nmistaken devotion came to prevail, one cannot imagine, unless from one\nof these two motives; either that people, by such a veil of hypocrisy,\nwould pass themselves upon mankind for better than they really are;\nor are influenced by unskilful preachers (which is sometimes, indeed\ntoo often, the case) to mind the world as little as possible, even to\nthe neglect of their necessary callings. No question but it is a great\nsin for a man to fail in his trade or occupation, by running often to\nprayers: it being a demonstration in itself, though the Scripture had\nnever said it, that we please God most, when we are doing the most good:\nAnd how can we do more good, than by a sober honest industry, _to provide\nfor those of our own household_, and to endeavour _to have to give to\nhim that needeth_. The man who is virtuously and honestly engaged, is\nactually serving God all the while, and is more likely to have his silent\nwishes, accompanied with strenuous endeavours, complied with by the\nSupreme Being, than he who begs with a fruitless vehemence, and solicits\nwith an empty hand: A hand which would be more religious were it usefully\nemployed, and more devout, were it stretched forth to do good to those\nthat want it.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE LV._\n\nThe Sick Kite.\n\nA Kite had been sick a long time; and finding there were no hopes of\nrecovery, begged of his mother to go to all the churches and religious\nhouses in the country, to try what prayers and promises would effect in\nhis behalf. The old Kite replied: Indeed, dear Son, I would willingly\nundertake anything to save your life, but I have great reason to despair\nof doing you any service in the way you propose: For, with what face can\nI ask anything of the Gods in favour of one whose whole life has been a\ncontinued scene of rapine and injustice, and who has not scrupled upon\noccasion to rob the very altars themselves?\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _After a long life spent in acts of impiety and wickedness, we\n may justly suspect the sincerity of a death-bed repentance._\n\n _Thus early sinning, and repenting late,_\n _The dying debauchee would bribe his fate;_\n _Pray\u2019rs, alms, and promises he tries in vain,_\n _Not sick of follies past, but present pain._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThe rehearsal of this Fable almost unavoidably draws our attention to\nthat very serious and important point, the consideration of a death-bed\nrepentance. And, to expose the absurdity of relying upon such a weak\nfoundation, we need only ask the same question with the Kite in the\nFable: How can he, that has offended the Gods all his life-time by doing\nacts of dishonour and injustice, expect that they should be pleased with\nhim at last, for no other reason but because he fears he shall not be\nable to offend them any longer; when, in truth, such a repentance can\nsignify nothing, but a confirmation of his former impudence and folly?\nFor sure no stupidity can exceed that of the man who expects a future\njudgment, and yet can bear to commit any piece of injustice, with a sense\nand deliberation of the fact.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE LVI._\n\nThe Two Pots.\n\nAn earthen pot and one of brass, standing together upon the river\u2019s\nbrink, were both carried away by the flowing in of the tide. The earthen\npot showed some uneasiness, as fearing he should be broken; but his\ncompanion of brass bid him be under no apprehensions, for that he would\ntake care of him. Oh! replies the other, keep as far off as ever you can,\nI entreat you; it is you I am most afraid of: For, whether the stream\ndashes you against me, or me against you, I am sure to be the sufferer;\nand therefore, I beg of you, do not let us come near one another.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Reciprocal pleasure and advantage is the only rational\n foundation for real friendship._\n\n _Born to the comforts of an humble state,_\n _Fly their embrace, if courted by the great._\n _Happy to learn, how ill you can afford_\n _The vast expense of how-d\u2019yes from my lord._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nA man of a moderate fortune, who is contented with what he has, and finds\nhe can live happily upon it, should take care not to hazard and expose\nhis felicity by consorting with the great and the powerful. People of\nequal conditions may float down the current of life without hurting each\nother; but it is a point of some difficulty to steer one\u2019s course in the\ncompany of the great, so as to escape without a bulge. One would not\nchoose to have one\u2019s little country-box situated in the neighbourhood\nof a very great man; for whether I ignorantly trespass upon him, or he\nknowingly encroaches upon me, I only am like to be the sufferer. I can\nneither entertain nor play with him upon his own terms; for that which is\nmoderation and diversion to him, in me would be extravagance and ruin.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE LVII._\n\nThe Sparrow and the Hare.\n\nA Hare, being seized by an Eagle, squeaked out in a most woful manner.\nA Sparrow that sat upon a tree just by and saw it, could not forbear\nbeing unseasonably witty, but called out, and said to the Hare: So ho!\nwhat! sit there and be killed? Pr\u2019ythee, up and away; I dare say, if you\nwould but try, so swift a creature as you are would easily escape from\nthe Eagle. As he was going on with his cruel raillery, down came a Hawk,\nand snapt him up; and, notwithstanding his vain cries and lamentations,\nfell a devouring of him in an instant. The Hare, who was just expiring,\nyet received comfort from this accident, even in the agonies of death;\nand, addressing her last words to the Sparrow, said: You, who just now\ninsulted my misfortune with so much security, as you thought, may please\nto shew us how well you can bear the like, now it has befallen you.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _The mutability of human affairs is such, that no situation,\n however seemingly advantageous, ought to make us jest with the\n misfortunes of others._\n\n _Tradesman, insult not, if a neighbour fail._\n _Lest, by and by, yourself should go to jail;_\n _Nor, if a damsel slip, Prude, shake your head,_\n _Lest you yourself next month be brought to bed._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nNothing is more impertinent than for people to be giving their opinion\nand advice in cases in which, were they to be their own, themselves would\nbe as much at a loss what to do. But so great an itch have most men to\nbe directors in the affairs of others, either to shew the superiority of\ntheir understanding, or their own security and exemption from the ills\nthey would have removed, that they forwardly and conceitedly obtrude\ntheir counsel, even at the hazard of their own safety and reputation.\nThere have been instances of those who, either officiously or for the\njest\u2019s sake, have spent much of their time in reading lectures of economy\nto the rest of the world, when at the same time their own ill husbandry\nhas been such, that they were forced to quit their dwelling and take\nlodgings, while their goods were sold to make a composition for the debts\nwhich they owed to petty tradesmen.\n\nWithout giving more examples of this kind, of which every one may furnish\nhimself with enough from his own observation, we cannot but conclude that\nnone are greater objects of ridicule than they who thus merrily assume a\ncharacter which, at the same time, by some incidents of their life, they\nconvince us of their being so unfit for.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE LVIII._\n\nThe Cat and the Fox.\n\nAs the Cat and the Fox were talking politics together, on a time, in\nthe middle of the forest, _Reynard_ said, Let things turn out ever so\nbad, he did not care, for he had a thousand tricks for them yet before\nthey should hurt him. But pray, says he, Mrs Puss, suppose there should\nbe an invasion, what course do you design to take? Nay, says the Cat,\nI have but one shift for it; and if that won\u2019t do, I am undone. I am\nsorry for you, replies _Reynard_, with all my heart, and would gladly\nfurnish you with one or two of mine, but indeed, neighbour, as times go,\nit is not good to trust; we must even be every one for himself, as the\nsaying is, and so your humble servant. These words were scarce out of his\nmouth, when they were alarmed with a pack of hounds that came upon them\nfull cry. The Cat, by the help of her single shift, ran up a tree, and\nsat securely among the top branches; from whence she beheld _Reynard_,\nwho had not been able to get out of sight, overtaken with his thousand\ntricks, and torn in as many pieces by the dogs which had surrounded him.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Successful cunning often makes an ostentatious pretension to\n wisdom._\n\n _The sly politician may boast of his arts,_\n _How his budget is full, and by cunning he\u2019s guided;_\n _But the wise and the wary, less proud of his parts,_\n _With a single expedient is better provided._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nA man that sets up for more cunning than the rest of his neighbours, is\ngenerally a silly fellow at the bottom. Whoever is master of a little\njudgment and insight into things, let him keep them to himself and make\nuse of them as he sees occasion; but he should not be teasing others\nwith an idle and impertinent ostentation of them. One good discreet\nexpedient made use of upon an emergency, will do a man more real service,\nand make others think better of him, than to have passed all along for a\nshrewd, crafty knave, and be bubbled at last. When any one has been such\na coxcomb as to insult his acquaintance, by pretending to more policy\nand stratagem than the rest of mankind, they are apt to wish for some\ndifficulty for him to shew his skill in; where, if he should miscarry\n(as ten to one but he does), his misfortune, instead of pity, is sure to\nbe attended with laughter. He that sets up for a biter, as the phrase\nis, being generally intent upon his prey, or vain of shewing his art,\nfrequently exposes himself to the traps of one sharper than himself, and\nincurs the ridicule of those whom he designed to make ridiculous.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE LIX._\n\nThe Old Hound.\n\nAn old Hound, who had been an excellent good one in his time, and given\nhis master great sport and satisfaction in many a chase, at last, by\nthe effect of years, became feeble and unserviceable. However, being in\nthe field one day, when the Stag was almost run down, he happened to be\nthe first that came in with him, and seized him by one of his haunches;\nbut, his decayed and broken teeth not being able to keep their hold, the\nDeer escaped, and threw him quite out. Upon which, his master, being in\na great passion, was going to strike him, when the honest old creature\nis said to have barked out his apology: Ah! do not strike your poor old\nservant; it is not my heart and inclination, but my strength and speed\nthat fail me. If what I now am displeases, pray don\u2019t forget what I have\nbeen.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Useful services, performed in youth, ought not to be cancelled\n by old age and infirmities._\n\n _Oh let not those whom honest servants bless,_\n _With cruel hand their age infirm oppress;_\n _Forget their service past, their former truth,_\n _And all the cares and labours of their youth._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nThis Fable may serve to give us a general view of the ingratitude\nof the greatest part of mankind. Notwithstanding all the civility\nand complaisance that is used among people where there is a common\nintercourse of business, yet, let the main spring, the probability of\ntheir being serviceable to each other, either in point of pleasure or\nprofit, be but once broken, and farewell courtesy. So far from continuing\nany regard in behalf of past favours, that it is very well if they\nforbear doing anything that is injurious. If the master had only ceased\nto caress and make much of the old Hound when he was past doing any\nservice, it had not been very strange; but to treat a poor creature ill,\nnot for a failure of inclination, but merely a defect of nature, must,\nnotwithstanding the crowd of examples there are to countenance it, be\npronounced inhuman and unreasonable.\n\nThere are two accounts upon which people that have been useful are\nfrequently neglected. One, when they are so decayed, either through age\nor some accident, that they are no longer equal to the services they have\nformerly done; the other, when the occasion or emergency which required\nsuch talents no longer exists. _Ph\u00e6drus_, who more than once complains of\nthe bad consequences of age, makes no other application to this Fable,\nthan by telling his friend _Philetas_, with some regret, that he wrote it\nwith such a view; having, it seems, been repaid with neglect, or worse\nusage, for services done in his youth to those who were then able to\nafford him a better recompense.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE LX._\n\nTwo Young Men and the Cook.\n\nTwo young men went into a cook\u2019s shop, under pretence of buying meat;\nand while the cook\u2019s back was turned, one of them snatched up a piece\nof beef, and gave it to his companion, who presently clapt it under his\ncloak. The cook turning about again, and missing his beef, began to\ncharge them with it; upon which, he that first took it swore bitterly\nhe had none of it. He that had it swore as heartily, that he had taken\nup none of his meat. Why look ye, gentlemen, says the cook, I see your\nequivocation; and though I can\u2019t tell which of you has taken my meat, I\nam sure, between you both, there\u2019s a thief, and a couple of rascals.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Evading the truth is just as blameable as denying it._\n\n _Thus quibbling thieves evade the charge,_\n _Offend the laws, and go at large:_\n _But though \u2019tis hard the crime to fix,_\n _We know they\u2019re guilty by their tricks._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nAn honest man\u2019s word is as good as his oath; and so is a rogue\u2019s too; for\nhe that will cheat and lie, why should he scruple to forswear himself? Is\nthe latter more criminal than either of the former? An honest man needs\nno oath to oblige him; and a rogue only deceives you the more certainly\nby it, because you think you have tied him up, and he is sure you have\nnot. In truth, it is not easy, with the eye of reason, to discern, that\nthere is any good in swearing at all. We need not scruple to take an\nhonest man\u2019s bare asseveration; and we shall do wrong if we believe a\nrogue, though he swears by the most solemn oaths that can be invented.\n\nThere are, besides, a sort of people who are rogues, and yet don\u2019t know\nthat they are such; who, when they have taken an oath, make a scruple of\nbreaking it, but rack their invention to evade it by some equivocation\nor other; by which, if they can but satisfy their acquaintance, and serve\ntheir own scheme they think all is well, and never once consider the\nblack and heinous guilt which must attend such a behaviour. They solemnly\ncall the supreme Being to witness; to what? to a sham, an evasion, a lie.\nThus these unthinking, prevaricating wretches, at the same time that they\nbelieve there is a God, act as if there were none; or, which is worse,\ndare affront him in the highest degree. They who by swearing would clear\nthemselves of a crime, of which they are really guilty, need not be at\nmuch pains about wording their oath; for, express themselves how they\nwill, they are sure to be forsworn.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE LXI._\n\nThe Dog and the Sheep.\n\nThe Dog sued the Sheep for a debt, of which the Kite and the Wolf were\nto be judges. They, without debating long upon the matter, or making\nany scruple for want of evidence, gave sentence for the plaintiff; who\nimmediately tore the poor Sheep in pieces, and divided the spoil with the\nunjust judges.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _We cannot reasonably hope for justice in a court, where the\n judges are interested in the decision._\n\n _Whose life is safe, if tried before a judge,_\n _That to the hapless pris\u2019ner bears a grudge?_\n _Whose property secur\u2019d from lawless fury,_\n _If any private int\u2019rest warps the jury?_\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nDeplorable are the times, when open bare-faced villany is protected and\nencouraged, when innocence is obnoxious, honesty contemptible, and it is\nreckoned criminal to espouse the cause of virtue. Men originally entered\ninto covenants and simple compacts with each other for the promotion of\ntheir happiness and well-being, for the establishment of justice and\npublic peace. How comes it then that they look stupidly on, and tamely\nacquiesce, when wicked men pervert this end, and establish an arbitrary\ntyranny of their own upon the foundation of fraud and oppression? Among\nbeasts, who are incapable of being civilised by social laws, it is no\nstrange thing to see innocent helpless sheep fall a prey to dogs, wolves,\nand kites: But it is amazing how mankind could ever sink down to such a\nlow degree of base cowardice, as to suffer some of the worst of their\nspecies to usurp a power over them, to supersede the righteous laws of\ngood government, and to exercise all kinds of injustice and hardship\nin gratifying their own vicious lusts. Wherever such enormities are\npractised, it is when a few rapacious statesmen combine together, to get\nand secure the power in their own hands, and agree to divide the spoils\namong themselves. For as long as the cause is to be tried only among\nthemselves, no question but they will always vouch for each other. But,\nat the same time, it is hard to determine which resemble brutes most,\nthey in acting, or the people in suffering them to act their vile selfish\nschemes.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE LXII._\n\nThe Proud Frog.\n\nAn Ox, grazing in a meadow, chanced to set his foot among a parcel of\nyoung frogs, and trod one of them to death. The rest informed their\nmother, when she came home, what had happened; telling her, that the\nbeast which did it was the hugest creature that ever they saw in their\nlives. What, was it so big? says the old Frog, swelling and blowing up\nher speckled belly to a great degree. Oh, bigger by a vast deal, say\nthey. And so big? says she, straining herself yet more. Indeed, Mamma,\nsay they, if you were to burst yourself, you would never be so big. She\nstrove yet again, and burst herself indeed.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _The silly ambition of vying with our superiors, in station and\n fortune, is the direct road to ruin._\n\n _Ye cits! of narrow means and small estate,_\n _View not with envy the luxurious great:_\n _Think that from riot bankruptcies will come,_\n _And mark your prudent neighbour worth a plum._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nWhenever a man endeavours to live equal with one of a greater fortune\nthan himself, he is sure to share a like fate with the Frog in the Fable.\nHow many vain people of moderate easy circumstances burst and come to\nnothing, by vying with those whose estates are more ample than their own!\nSir _Changeling Plumbstock_ was possessed of a very considerable demesne,\ndevolved to him by the death of an old uncle of the city, who had adopted\nhim his heir. He had a false taste of happiness; and, without the least\neconomy, trusting to the sufficiency of his vast revenue, was resolved to\nbe outdone by nobody, in shewish grandeur and expensive living. He gave\nfive thousand pounds for a piece of ground in the country, to set a house\nupon, the building and furniture of which cost fifty thousand more; and\nhis gardens were proportionably magnificent. Besides which, he thought\nhimself under a necessity of buying out two or three tenements which\nstood in his neighbourhood, that he might have elbow room enough. All\nthis he could very well bear; and still might have been happy, had it not\nbeen for an unfortunate view which he one day happened to take of my Lord\n_Castlebuilder\u2019s_ gardens, which consist of twenty acres, whereas his own\nwere not above twelve. For from that time he grew pensive; and before the\nensuing winter, gave five and thirty years\u2019 purchase for a dozen acres\nmore to enlarge his gardens, built a couple of exorbitant greenhouses\nand a large pavilion at the farther end of a terrace walk, the bare\nrepairs and superintendencies of all which call for the remaining part of\nhis income. He is mortgaged pretty deep, and pays nobody; but, being a\nprivileged person, resides altogether at a private cheap lodging in the\ncity of _Westminster_.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE LXIII._\n\nThe Dove and the Bee.\n\nThe Bee, compelled by thirst, went to drink in a clear purling rivulet;\nbut the current, with its circling eddy, snatched her away, and carried\nher down the stream. A Dove, pitying her distressed condition, cropt a\nbranch from a neighbouring tree, and let it fall into the water, by means\nof which the Bee saved herself, and got ashore. Not long after, a Fowler,\nhaving a design upon the Dove, planted his nets and all his little\nartillery in due order, without the Bird\u2019s observing what he was about;\nwhich the Bee perceiving, just as he was going to put his design in\nexecution she bit him by the heel, and made him give so sudden a start,\nthat the Dove took the alarm, and flew away.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Charity will have its rewards one time or other; for certain\n in the promised recompense hereafter, perhaps in a grateful\n return here._\n\n _Hail gratitude! the spark whence virtue springs,_\n _And adoration to the King of kings;_\n _The greatest bliss the feeling bosom knows,_\n _The source whence every gen\u2019rous action flows._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nOne good turn deserves another; and gratitude is excited by so noble\nand natural a spirit, that he ought to be looked upon as the vilest\nof creatures, who has no sense of it. It is, indeed, so very just and\nequitable a thing, and so much every man\u2019s duty, that to speak of it\nproperly one should not mention it as anything meritorious, or that may\nclaim praise and admiration, any more than we should say a man ought to\nbe rewarded or commended for not killing his father, or forbearing to set\nfire to his neighbour\u2019s house. The bright and shining piece of morality,\ntherefore, which is recommended to us in this Fable, is set forth in this\nexample of the Dove, who, without any obligation or expectation, does\na voluntary office of charity to its fellow-creature in distress. The\nconstant uninterrupted practice of this virtue is the only thing in which\nwe are capable of imitating the great Author of our being, whose _Beloved\nSon_, besides the many precepts He has given to enforce this duty, used\nthis expression as a common saying, _It is more blessed to give than to\nreceive_.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE LXIV._\n\nThe Collier and the Fuller.\n\nThe Collier and the Fuller, being old acquaintance, happened upon a\ntime to meet together; and the latter, being but ill provided with a\nhabitation, was invited by the former to come and live in the same house\nwith him. I thank you, my dear friend, replies the Fuller, for your kind\noffer, but it cannot be; for if I were to dwell with you, whatever I\nshould take pains to scour and make clean in the morning, the dust of you\nand your coals would blacken and defile, as bad as ever, before night.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _We commonly imbibe the principles and manners of those with\n whom we associate._\n\n _With vice allied, however pure,_\n _No virtue can be long secure:_\n _Shun then the traitress and her wiles,_\n _Whate\u2019er she touches she defiles._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nIt is of no small importance in life, to be cautious what company we\nkeep, and with whom we enter into friendships. For though we are ever\nso well disposed ourselves, and happen to be ever so free from vice and\ndebauchery, yet, if those with whom we frequently converse are engaged\nin a lewd, wicked course, it will be almost impossible for us to escape\nbeing drawn in with them.\n\nIf we are truly wise, and would shun those _siren_ rocks of pleasure upon\nwhich so many have split before us, we should forbid ourselves all manner\nof commerce and correspondence with those who are steering a course\nwhich, reason tells us, is not only not for our advantage, but must end\nin our destruction.\n\nAll the virtue we can boast of will not be sufficient to ensure us, if\nwe embark in bad company. For though our philosophy were such, as that\nwe could preserve ourselves from being tainted and infected with their\nmanners, yet their character would twist and entwine itself along with\nours in so intricate a fold, that the world would not take the trouble\nto unravel and separate them. Reputations are of a subtle insinuating\ntexture like water; that which is derived from the clearest spring, if\nit chances to mix with a foul current, runs on, undistinguished, in one\nmuddy stream for the future, and must for ever partake of the colour and\ncondition of its associate.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE LXV._\n\nThe Boy and his Mother.\n\nA little Boy, who went to school, stole one of his school-fellow\u2019s\nhorn-books, and brought it home to his mother; who was so far from\ncorrecting and discouraging him upon account of the theft, that she\ncommended and gave him an apple for his pains. In process of time, as the\nchild grew up to be a man, he accustomed himself to greater robberies;\nand at last, being apprehended and committed to gaol, he was tried and\ncondemned for a felony. On the day of his execution, as the officers\nwere conducting him to the gallows, he was attended by a vast crowd of\npeople, and among the rest by his mother, who came sighing and sobbing\nalong, and deploring extremely her son\u2019s unhappy fate; which the criminal\nobserving, he called to the sheriff, and begged the favour of him, that\nhe would give him leave to speak a word or two to his poor afflicted\nmother. The sheriff (as who would deny a dying man so reasonable a\nrequest) gave him permission; and the felon, while every one thought\nhe was whispering something of importance to his mother, bit off her\near, to the great offence and surprise of the whole assembly. What, say\nthey, was not this villain contented with the impious acts which he has\nalready committed, but he must increase the number of them, by doing\nthis violence to his mother? Good people, replied he, I would not have\nyou be under a mistake; that wicked woman deserves this, and even worse\nat my hands; for if she had chastised and chid, instead of rewarding and\ncaressing me, when in my infancy I stole the horn-book from the school, I\nhad not come to this ignominious untimely end.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _Youthful minds, like the pliant wax, are susceptible of the\n most lasting impressions, and the good or evil bias they then\n receive is seldom or ever eradicated._\n\n _Fathers and mothers! train your children\u2019s youth_\n _To virtue, honour, honesty, and truth;_\n _Dreadful! to bring about your child\u2019s damnation,_\n _And give your sons a ~Tyburn~ education._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nNotwithstanding the great innate depravity of mankind, one need not\nscruple to affirm, that most of the wickedness, which is so frequent\nand so pernicious in the world, arises from a bad education; and that\nthe child is obliged either to the example or connivance of its parents,\nfor most of the vicious habits which it wears through the course of its\nfuture life. The mind of one that is young is, like wax, soft and capable\nof any impression which is given it: but it is hardened by time, and\nthe first signature grows so firm and durable, that scarce any pains or\napplication can erase it. It is a mistaken notion in people, when they\nimagine that there is no occasion for regulating or restraining the\nactions of very young children, which though allowed to be sometimes\nvery naughty in those of a more advanced age, are in them, they suppose,\naltogether innocent and inoffensive. But, however innocent they may be,\nas to their intention then, yet, as the practice may grow upon them\nunobserved, and root itself into a habit, they ought to be checked and\ndiscountenanced in their first efforts towards anything that is injurious\nor dishonest; that the love of virtue and the abhorrence of wrong and\noppression may be let into their minds, at the same time that they\nreceive the very first dawn of understanding, and glimmering of reason.\nWhatever guilt arises from the actions of one whose education has been\ndeficient as to this point, no question but a just share of it will be\nlaid, by the great Judge of the world, to the charge of those who were,\nor should have been, his instructors.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE LXVI._\n\nThe Wanton Calf.\n\nA Calf, full of play and wantonness, seeing the Ox at plough, could not\nforbear insulting him. What a sorry poor drudge art thou, says he, to\nbear that heavy yoke upon your neck, and go all day drawing a plough at\nyour tail, to turn up the ground for your master! But you are a wretched\ndull slave, and know no better, or else you would not do it. See what a\nhappy life I lead; I go just where I please; sometimes I lie down under\nthe cool shade; sometimes frisk about in the open sunshine; and, when I\nplease, slake my thirst in the clear sweet brook: But you, if you were\nto perish, have not so much as a little dirty water to refresh you. The\nOx, not at all moved with what he said, went quietly and calmly on with\nhis work: and, in the evening, was unyoked and turned loose. Soon after\nwhich he saw the Calf taken out of the field, and delivered into the\nhands of a priest, who immediately led him to the altar, and prepared to\nsacrifice him. His head was hung round with fillets of flowers, and the\nfatal knife was just going to be applied to his throat, when the Ox drew\nnear and whispered him to this purpose: Behold the end of your insolence\nand arrogance; it was for this only you were suffered to live at all; and\npray now, friend, whose condition is best, yours or mine?\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _To insult people in distress is the property of a cruel,\n indiscreet, and giddy temper; for on the next turn of fortune\u2019s\n wheel, we may be thrown down to their condition, and they\n exalted to ours._\n\n _Thus oft the industrious poor endures reproach_\n _From rogues in lace, and sharpers in a coach;_\n _But soon to ~Tyburn~ sees the villains led,_\n _While he still earns in peace his daily bread._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nWe may learn by this Fable the consequence of an idle life, and how well\nsatisfied laborious, diligent men are, in the end, when they come quietly\nto enjoy the fruits of their industry. They who, by little tricks and\nsharpings, or by open violence and robbery, live in a high extensive way,\noften, in their hearts at least, despise the poor honest man, who is\ncontented with the virtuous product of his daily labour, and patiently\nsubmits to his destiny. But how often is the poor man comforted, by\nseeing these wanton villains led in triumph to the altar of justice,\nwhile he has many a cheerful summer\u2019s morning to enjoy abroad, and many a\nlong winter\u2019s evening to indulge himself in at home, by a quiet hearth,\nand under an unenvied roof: Blessings, which often attend a sober,\nindustrious man, though the idle and the profligate are utter strangers\nto them.\n\nLuxury and intemperance, besides their being certain to shorten a man\u2019s\ndays, are very apt not only to engage people with their seeming charms\ninto a debauched life, utterly prejudicial to their health, but to\nmake them have a contempt for others, whose good sense and true taste\nof happiness inspire them with an aversion to idleness and effeminacy,\nand put them upon hardening their constitution by innocent exercise\nand laudable employment. How many do gluttony and sloth tumble into an\nuntimely grave! while the temperate and the active drink sober draughts\nof life, and spin out their thread to the most desirable length.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE LXVII._\n\nJupiter and the Herdsman.\n\nA Herdsman, missing a young heifer that belonged to his herd, went up\nand down the forest to seek it. And having walked a great deal of ground\nto no purpose, he fell a praying to _Jupiter_ for relief; promising\nto sacrifice a Kid to him, if he would help him to a discovery of the\nthief. After this, he went on a little farther, and came near a grove\nof oaks, where he found the carcase of his heifer, and a lion grumbling\nover it, and feeding upon it. This sight almost scared him out of his\nwits; so down he fell upon his knees once more, and addressing himself\nto _Jupiter_; O _Jupiter_! says he, I promised thee a Kid to show me the\nthief, but now I promise thee a bull, if thou wilt be so merciful as to\ndeliver me out of his clutches.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _We ought never to supplicate the Divine power, but through\n motives of religion and virtue; prayers, dictated by passion or\n interest, are unacceptable to the Deity._\n\n _Short-sighted wretch! endure thy care,_\n _Nor heave th\u2019 impatient sigh:_\n _Heav\u2019n hears thee, but perhaps thy pray\u2019r_\n _\u2019Tis mercy to deny._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nHow ignorant and stupid are some people, who form their notions of the\nSupreme Being from their own poor shallow conceptions; and then, like\nfroward children with their nurses, think it consistent with infinite\nwisdom and unerring justice to comply with all their whimsical petitions.\nLet men but live as justly as they can, and just Providence will give\nthem what they ought to have. Of all the involuntary sins which men\ncommit, scarce any are more frequent, than that of their praying absurdly\nand improperly, as well as unseasonably, when their time might have been\nemployed so much better. The many private collections, sold up and down\nthe nation, do not a little contribute to this injudicious practice:\nWhich is the more to be condemned, in that we have so incomparable a\npublic liturgy; one single address whereof (except the Lord\u2019s Prayer) may\nbe pronounced to be the best that ever was compiled; and alone preferable\nto all the various manuals of occasional devotion, which are vended by\nhawkers and pedlars about our streets. It is as follows:\u2014\n\n _Almighty God, the fountain of all wisdom, who knowest our\n necessities before we ask, and our ignorance in asking; we\n beseech thee to have compassion upon our infirmities; and\n those things, which for our unworthiness we dare not, and for\n our blindness we cannot ask, vouchsafe to give us, for the\n worthiness of thy Son ~Jesus Christ~ our Lord._\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE LXVIII._\n\nThere\u2019s no To-morrow.\n\nA Man, who had lived a very profligate life, at length being awakened\nby the lively representations of a sober friend on the apprehensions of\na feverish indisposition, promised that he would heartily set about his\nreformation, and that To-morrow he would seriously begin it. But the\nsymptoms going off, and that To-morrow coming, he still put it off till\nthe next, and so he went on from one To-morrow to another; but still he\ncontinued his reprobate life. This his friend observing, said to him, I\nam very much concerned to find how little effect my disinterested advice\nhas upon you: But, my friend, let me tell you, that since your To-morrow\nnever comes, nor do you seem to intend it shall, I will believe you\nno more, except you set about your repentance and amendment this very\nmoment: for, to say nothing of your repeated broken promises, you must\nconsider, that the time that is past is no more; that To-morrow is _not_\nOURS; and the _present_ NOW is all we have to boast of.\n\n\nMORALS.\n\n _That compunction of heart cannot be sincere, which takes\n not immediate effect, and can be put off till To-morrow. The\n friend\u2019s closing observation in the Fable is so good a moral,\n that we need add nothing to it._\n\n _~Eager~ to mend, and ~brookless~ of delay,_\n _~Sincere~ repentance waits no ~future~ day;_\n _The ~present~ moment only is allow\u2019d;_\n _~Uncertain~ hopes and fears ~to-morrow~ shroud._\n\n\nREFLECTION.\n\nWhoever considers this emblem, will find it to be his own case; we\npromise, and we put off, and we sin, and go on sinning: but still, as\nour conscience checks us for it, we take up faint purposes, and half\nresolutions, to do so no more, and to lead a new life for the future.\nThus, with the young fellow here, we indulge ourselves in our pleasures\nfrom time to time; and when we have trifled away our lives, day after\nday, from one To-morrow to another, that same To-morrow never comes.\nThis is the sluggard\u2019s plea and practice; the libertine\u2019s, the miser\u2019s;\nand in short, whose is it not? Now, if we would but consider the vanity\nand vexation of a lewd course of life; the impiety first of entering\ninto vows, which we intend beforehand not to perform, and afterward of\nbreaking them; the folly and the presumption of undertaking anything\nthat is wholly out of our power; the necessity of improving every\nmoment of our lives; the desperate and the irreparable hazard of losing\nopportunities; we should not venture body and soul upon the necessity\nof a procrastinated repentance, and postpone the most certain duties of\na man, and of a Christian; for there is no To-morrow, nor anything, in\ntruth, but the present instant, that we can call our own.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nPART III.\n\nFABLES, _in Verse_.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE I._\n\nThe Cuckoo Traveller.\n\n A Cuckoo once, as Cuckoos use,\n Who\u2019d been upon a winter\u2019s cruise,\n Return\u2019d with the returning spring\u2014\n Some hundred brothers of the wing,\n Curious to hear from foreign realms,\n Got round him in a tuft of elms.\n He shook his pinions, struck his beak,\n Attempted twice or thrice to speak;\n At length, up-rising on his stand,\n\n \u201cOld England! Well, the land\u2019s a land!\n But rat me, gentlemen,\u201d says he,\n \u201cWe passage-fowl that cross the sea\n Have vast advantages o\u2019er you;\n Whose native woods are all you view.\n The season past, I took a jaunt\n Among the isles of the Levant;\n Where, by the way, I stuff\u2019d my guts\n With almonds and pistachio nuts.\n \u2019Twas then my whim some weeks to be\n In that choice garden, Italy:\n But, underneath the sky\u2019s expanse,\n No climate like the south of France!\n You\u2019ve often heard, I dare to swear,\n How plenty ortolans are there;\n \u2019Tis true, and more delicious meat,\n Upon my honour, I ne\u2019er eat;\n The eggs are good; it was ill luck\n What day I had not ten to suck;\n Yet notwithstanding, to my _go\u00fbt_,\n The bird\u2019s the sweeter of the two.\u201d\n He went on, talking pert and loud,\n When an old Raven, \u2019mongst the crowd,\n Stopp\u2019d short his insolent career\u2014\n \u201cWhy, what a monstrous bustle\u2019s here!\n You travell\u2019d, sir! I speak to you,\n Who\u2019ve passed so many countries thro\u2019;\n Say, to what purpose is\u2019t you roam,\n And what improvements bring you home?\n Has Italy, on which you doat,\n Supply\u2019d you with another note?\n Or France, which you extol so high,\n Taught you with better grace to fly?\n I cannot see that both together\n Have alter\u2019d you a single feather:\n Then tell not us of where you\u2019ve been,\n Of what you\u2019ve done, or what you\u2019ve seen;\n While you and all your rambling pack\n Cuckoos go out, Cuckoos come back.\u201d\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE II._\n\nThe Ant and the Grasshopper.\n\n \u2019Twas that bleak season of the year,\n In which no smiles, no charms appear;\n Bare were the trees; the rivers froze;\n The hills and mountains capt with snows;\n When, lodging scarce and victuals scant,\n A Grasshopper address\u2019d an Ant:\n And, in a supplicating tone,\n Begg\u2019d he would make her case his own.\n\n \u201cIt was, indeed, a bitter task\n To those who were unused to ask;\n Yet she was forc\u2019d the truth to say,\n She had not broke her fast that day;\n His worship, tho\u2019, with plenty bless\u2019d,\n Knew how to pity the distress\u2019d;\n A grain of corn to her was gold,\n And Heav\u2019n would yield him fifty-fold.\u201d\n\n The Ant beheld her wretched plight,\n Nor seem\u2019d unfeeling at the sight;\n Yet, still inquisitive to know\n How she became reduc\u2019d so low,\n Asked her\u2014we\u2019ll e\u2019en suppose in rhyme\u2014\n What she did all the summer time?\n\n \u201cIn summer time, good sir,\u201d said she,\n \u201cAh! these were merry months with me!\n I thought of nothing but delight,\n And sung, Lord, help me! day and night:\n Through yonder meadows did you pass,\n You must have heard me in the grass.\u201d\n\n \u201cAh!\u201d cry\u2019d the Ant, and knit his brow\u2014\n \u201cBut \u2019tis enough I hear you now;\n And, Madam Songstress, to be plain,\n You seek my charity in vain:\n What, shall th\u2019 industrious yield his due\n To thriftless vagabonds like you!\n Some corn I have, but none to spare,\n Next summer learn to take more care;\n And in your frolic moods, remember,\n July is follow\u2019d by December.\u201d\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE III._\n\nThe Wolf and the Dog.\n\n A prowling Wolf, that scour\u2019d the plains,\n To ease his hunger\u2019s griping pains,\n Ragged as courtier in disgrace,\n Hide-bound, and lean, and out of case,\n By chance a well-fed Dog espy\u2019d,\n And being kin, and near ally\u2019d,\n He civilly salutes the cur:\n \u201cHow do you, Cuz? Your servant, sir.\n O happy friend! how gay thy mien!\n How plump thy sides, how sleek thy skin!\n Triumphant plenty shines all o\u2019er,\n And the fat melts at ev\u2019ry pore!\n While I, alas! decay\u2019d and old,\n With hunger pin\u2019d, and stiff with cold,\n With many a howl and hideous groan,\n Tell the relentless woods my moan.\n Pr\u2019ythee (my happy friend!) impart\n Thy wondrous, cunning, thriving art.\u201d\n \u201cWhy, faith, I\u2019ll tell thee as a friend,\n But first thy surly manners mend;\n Be complaisant, obliging, kind,\n And leave the Wolf for once behind.\u201d\n The Wolf, whose mouth began to water,\n With joy and rapture gallop\u2019d after,\n When thus the Dog: \u201cAt bed and board,\n I share the plenty of my lord;\n From ev\u2019ry guest I claim a fee,\n Who court my lord by bribing me.\n In mirth I revel all the day,\n And many a game at romps I play:\n I fetch and carry, leap o\u2019er sticks,\n With twenty such diverting tricks.\u201d\n \u201c\u2019Tis pretty, faith,\u201d the Wolf reply\u2019d,\n And on his neck the collar spy\u2019d:\n He starts, and without more ado,\n He bids the abject wretch adieu:\n \u201cEnjoy your dainties, friend; to me\n The noblest feast is liberty:\n The famish\u2019d Wolf, upon these desert plains,\n Is happier than a fawning cur in chains.\u201d\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE IV._\n\nThe Nightingale.\n\n How few with patience can endure\n The evils they themselves procure.\n A Nightingale, with snares beset,\n At last was taken in a net:\n When first she found her wings confin\u2019d,\n She beat and flutter\u2019d in the wind,\n Still thinking she could fly away;\n Still hoping to regain the spray:\n But, finding there was no retreat,\n Her little heart with anger beat;\n Nor did it aught abate her rage;\n To be transmitted to a cage.\n The wire apartment, tho\u2019 commodious,\n To her appear\u2019d excessive odious;\n And though it furnish\u2019d drink and meat,\n She car\u2019d not, for she could not eat;\n \u2019Twas not supplying her with food;\n She lik\u2019d to gather it from the wood:\n And water clear, her thirst to slake,\n She chose to sip from the cool lake:\n And, when she sung herself to rest,\n \u2019Twas in what hedge she lik\u2019d the best:\n And thus, because she was not free,\n Hating the chain of slavery,\n She rather added link to link:\n \u2014Just so men reach misfortune\u2019s brink.\n At length, revolving on her state,\n She cries, \u201cI might have met worse fate,\n Been seiz\u2019d by kites or prowling cat,\n Or stifled in a school boy\u2019s hat;\n Or been the first unlucky mark,\n Sure hit by some fantastic spark.\u201d\n Then conscience told her, want of care\n Had made her fall into the snare;\n That men were free their nets to throw;\n And birds were free to come or go:\n And all the evils she lamented,\n By caution might have been prevented.\n So, on her perch more pleas\u2019d she stood,\n And peck\u2019d the kindly offer\u2019d food;\n Resolv\u2019d, with patience, to endure\n Ills she had brought, but could not cure.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE V._\n\nThe Two Foxes.\n\n Two hungry Foxes once agreed\n To execute a bloody deed,\n And make the farmer\u2019s poultry bleed.\n Thus, as their rage was very hot,\n Cocks, hens, and chickens went to pot.\n The one (the slaughter being o\u2019er)\n Young, and a perfect epicure,\n Propos\u2019d on all the spoil to sup,\n And at one meal to eat it up.\n The other old, at heart a miser,\n Refus\u2019d his scheme, and thought it wiser\n To lay aside some of the prey,\n And so provide for a bad day.\n \u201cListen, my child,\u201d says he, \u201cto age;\n Experience has made me sage:\n I know the various turns of fate:\n How changeable is every state!\n A mighty treasure we have found;\n Success has all our wishes crown\u2019d;\n See! the vast havoc all around!\n Oh let us not be lavish, son,\n Nor throw away what we have won!\n Oh let us not consume our store,\n But, being frugal, make it more!\u201d\n \u201cYour fine harangue,\u201d replies the other,\n \u201cMight take, were I a griping brother:\n But, as I\u2019m generous and free,\n It ne\u2019er shall have effect on me.\n I\u2019ll live, old daddy, while I may\n Indulge my noble self with prey,\n And feast in spite of all you say.\n But should I not\u2014why, to our sorrow,\n The fowls will stink before to-morrow.\n If we return\u2014the clown will watch us;\n And, hang the dog, he\u2019ll surely catch us:\n In ambush he will watch our waters,\n Or else with dogs beat up our quarters.\u201d\n\n This said, each fox himself obey\u2019d,\n Pursu\u2019d the scheme that he had laid.\n\n The younger one fell to the meat;\u2014\n And died o\u2019ercharg\u2019d with what he eat.\n The old one, as with joy next morning,\n To his hid spoil he was returning,\n Ta\u2019en by the farmer in surprise,\n Fell by his hand a sacrifice.\n\n Thus each man has his ruling passion,\n And ev\u2019ry age its inclination:\n The young are heedless in their measures,\n And boundless in pursuit of pleasures:\n The old are all persuasion past,\n Positive, and griping to the last.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE VI._\n\nThe Butterfly and Boy.\n\n \u2019Twas on a day serene and fair,\n The sun was bright and \u00e6ther clear,\n The rocking winds were lull\u2019d to rest,\n And ev\u2019ry murmuring gale supprest;\n When, tempted by th\u2019 alluring heat,\n A Fly forsook her dark retreat\n To taste the sweetness of the skies,\n And tinge her wings with various dyes;\n Restless she rov\u2019d her narrow tour,\n And borrow\u2019d paint from ev\u2019ry flow\u2019r;\n Till, deck\u2019d with all the insect grace,\n She sparkled fairest of her race.\n\n In all her splendour, pomp, and pride,\n The winged-gem a Boy espy\u2019d;\n Who, pleas\u2019d to see how bright it shone,\n Resolv\u2019d to make the prize his own;\n And straight with speed began to trace\n The gilded Fly from place to place:\n But, conscious of some danger near,\n The Butterfly her course would steer,\n Now high, then low, now here, then there,\n To balk the aim, or shun the blow\n She justly dreaded from her foe.\n\n The Lad, still eager to pursue\n The Fly that always kept in view,\n Thro\u2019 many a lane and meadow went,\n His soul so on the prize was bent,\n Undaunted ran from morn to noon,\n To gain the heart-enchanting boon.\n\n At length, when sweat bedew\u2019d his face,\n And almost weary of the chase,\n The Fly in evil hour is caught,\n And homewards by the conqueror brought;\n Who vainly hop\u2019d, the glorious spoil\n Would more than recompense his toil;\n But while, with pleasure and surprise,\n Her form and beauty feast his eyes,\n The Fly escapes, and mounts the skies,\n With rallied force augments her flight,\n And quick evades his keenest sight;\n Then he, deluded youth! gave o\u2019er\n All hope to find the booty more.\n Enrag\u2019d condemns his cruel fate,\n And wept his folly\u2014but too late.\n\n Thus foolish mortals waste their days,\n In seeking pleasures, wealth, and praise;\n They hunt for honours, titles, fame,\n And risk their souls to gain a\u2014name;\n Chase every glitt\u2019ring toy they spy,\n Just as the Lad pursu\u2019d the Fly,\n And e\u2019er they grasp the bauble\u2014die.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE VII._\n\nThe Hounds in Couples.\n\n Wedlock, a name not much in fashion,\n Subservient ofttimes is to passion.\n How oft we see a thoughtless pair,\n Brought up by Nature\u2019s fost\u2019ring care,\n When love first fires their youthful breast,\n Pant with impatience to be blest:\n Tempers unstudied! thoughts untried!\n Yet sigh, alas! to be allied.\n Because their hours of courtship run\n Sweet, under love\u2019s meridian sun,\n They think to breathe a tranquil life,\n And be the happy man and wife.\n Vain thought!\u2014the flatt\u2019ring phantom flies,\n And opes at length their purblind eyes.\n Then\u2014\u2014 but attend my simple story,\n The sequel will appear before ye.\n\n The morning dawns, with orient sky,\n Clad with its purple royalty,\n Once more\u2019s the throne of infant day,\n And all th\u2019 horizon round looks gay.\n The horn deep-ton\u2019d the huntsman fills,\n The strains re-echo from the hills;\n Unkennell\u2019d for the bloody chase,\n Impatient rush the babbling race:\n Some, widely stretching o\u2019er the plain,\n Vocif\u2019rous chaunt the heedless train;\n These stretch their limbs, while others bound\n In wanton circles o\u2019er the ground.\n\n The squire survey\u2019d with secret pride\n The mottled pack on either side:\n The puppies did not \u2019scape his view;\n Their youthful tricks were pleasing too.\n But lest a part unskill\u2019d, and young,\n Should lead the rest with lavish tongue,\n It was decreed they should be tied,\n And trudge in couples, side by side.\n To Ringwood, Sweetlips was assign\u2019d:\n These two with patience jogg\u2019d behind.\n To Trueman, so \u2019twas doom\u2019d by fate,\n Maiden was yok\u2019d as trav\u2019lling mate:\n In these an early fondness grew,\n If he did this, she\u2019d do so too;\n From Maiden Trueman scarce would stray,\n But spent with her the livelong day;\n For her the half-pick\u2019d bone he\u2019d spare,\n And guard her with a lover\u2019s care.\n If he in playful frolic run,\n Or bask\u2019d beneath th\u2019 enlivening sun,\n As sure she would his steps attend,\n Or near his side her length extend.\n From one calm mind their actions grew;\n But now, alas! they spring from two.\n Divided cares invade each breast;\n Divided thoughts and interest;\n Now \u2019tis they feel the galling chain,\n And howl for liberty again.\n To join the pack if he\u2019s inclin\u2019d,\n She with slow pace will drag behind:\n He this way draws, she tugs another,\n They prove tormentors to each other.\n Now boldly they exert their might,\n Snarl answers snarl\u2014bite follows bite;\n With double ire their fury burns,\n And gains them mastership by turns.\n But strength victorious rules the field,\n To force superior all must yield:\n At length subdued the fair one lies,\n And calls assistance by her cries;\n But ah! in vain, no succour\u2019s near,\n The hunt pursue the tim\u2019rous hare.\n Too late she sees from whence arose\n The source of all her bleeding woes:\n Secluded now from every friend,\n Her sorrows but with life can end,\n What\u2019s to be done\u2014reflection\u2019s vain,\n And serves but to increase her pain;\n Quite spent, she howling yields her life,\n A prey to discontent and strife.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE VIII._\n\nThe Sow and the Peacock.\n\n In days of yore, as authors tell,\n When beasts and birds could read and spell,\n No matter where, in town or city,\n There liv\u2019d a Swine exceeding witty;\n And, for the beauties of her mind,\n Excelling all her bristl\u2019d kind:\n But yet, to mortify her pride,\n She found at last her failing side.\n Philosophy she had good store,\n Had ponder\u2019d Seneca all o\u2019er;\n Yet all precautions useless prove\n Against the pow\u2019r of mighty love.\n\n It happen\u2019d on a sultry day,\n Upon her fav\u2019rite couch she lay,\u2014\n \u2019Twas a round dunghill soft and warm,\n O\u2019ershadow\u2019d by a neighb\u2019ring barn,\u2014\n When lo, her winking eyes behold\n A creature with a neck of gold,\n With painted wings and gorgeous train,\n That sparkled like the starry plain:\n His neck and breast all brilliant shine\n Against the sun. The dazzl\u2019d Swine,\n Who never saw the like before,\n Began to wonder and adore;\n But seeing him so fair and nice,\n She left her dunghill in a trice;\n And, fond to please, the grunting elf\n Began to wash and trim herself;\n And from the stinking pool she run\n To dry her carcase in the sun;\n And rubb\u2019d her sides against a tree:\n And now, as clean as hogs can be,\n With cautious air and doubtful breast,\n The glitt\u2019ring Peacock thus address\u2019d:\n\n \u201cSir, I, a homely rural Swine,\n Can boast of nothing fair nor fine,\n No dainties in our troughs appear,\n But, as you seem a stranger here,\n Be pleas\u2019d to walk into my sty,\n A little hut as plain as I.\n Pray venture through the humble door;\n And tho\u2019 your entertainment\u2019s poor,\n With me you shall be sure to find\n An open heart and honest mind;\n And that\u2019s a dainty seldom found\n On cedar floors and city ground.\u201d\n\n Thus far the Sow had preach\u2019d by rule,\n She preach\u2019d, alas! but to a fool;\n For this same Peacock, you must know,\n Had he been man, had been a beau:\n And spoke, like them, but mighty little\n That to the point could tend a tittle:\n And with an air that testify\u2019d\n He\u2019d got at least his share of pride,\n He thus began: \u201cWhy, truly now,\n You\u2019re very civil, Mrs Sow:\n But I am very clean, d\u2019ye see;\n Your sty is not a place for me.\n Should I go through that narrow door,\n My feathers might be soil\u2019d or tore;\n Or scented with unsav\u2019ry fumes:\n And what am I without my plumes?\u201d\n\n The much offended Sow replies,\n And turns asquint her narrow eyes,\n \u201cSir, you\u2019re incorrigibly vain,\n To value thus a shining train;\n For when the northern wind shall blow,\n And send us hail, and sleet, and snow,\n How will you save from such keen weathers,\n Your merit\u2014sir, I mean your feathers?\n As for myself,\u2014to think that I\n Should lead an idiot to my sty,\n Or strive to make an oaf my friend,\n Makes all my bristles stand on end:\n But for the future, when I see\n A bird that much resembles thee,\n I\u2019ll ever make it as a rule,\n The shining case contains a fool.\u201d\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE IX._\n\nThe King-Dove.\n\n Thousands, who start at Nero\u2019s name,\n With Nero\u2019s power would act the same;\n And few in humble spheres can know\n How much to want of pow\u2019r they owe\u2014\n The passions sleep unrous\u2019d by might,\n As objects lie forgot in night;\n Tho\u2019 unregarded till they\u2019re seen,\n They both exist beneath the screen,\n And Sol returning, grandeur near,\n The passions rise, and shapes appear:\n And e\u2019en a dove, the Fable tells,\n Begirt with pow\u2019r a tyrant swells\u2014\n Thus runs the tale\u2014Between the Kite\n And Doves there chanc\u2019d a fatal fight,\n Before his force their numbers fled,\n The victor on the captives fed\u2014\n What can be done?\u2014they pine, they grieve,\n The spar\u2019d can scarce be said to live.\u2014\n\n At last, their king Columbo\u2019s call\n Commands the senate to the hall:\n Columbo, best of doves and kings,\n Up-rising clapt his painted wings,\n Then thus harangu\u2019d \u2019em from above,\n And spake the monarch, and the Dove\u2014\n \u201cMy suff\u2019ring friends, with grief and pain\n I fear we meet but to complain;\n Yet my fond bosom fain would know\n Your thoughts of our relentless foe\u2014\n If any, blest with skill to save,\n Have plann\u2019d the proud oppressor\u2019s grave,\n Whatever perils shall attend\n A scheme to save one bleeding friend,\n I\u2019ll meet, I\u2019ll vanquish, or no more\n Return to this opprobrious shore:\n For oh! to steal the tyrant\u2019s breath,\n I\u2019d perch upon the dart of death.\u201d\n He ceas\u2019d, and soft applauses sprung\n From ev\u2019ry heart to ev\u2019ry tongue:\n Then one arose among the rest,\n And mov\u2019d,\u2014That Jove might be addrest,\n Arms on their monarch to bestow,\n Like those so dreadful on their foe.\n The rest consent, the pray\u2019r is made,\n Jove will\u2019d, and Nature straight obey\u2019d.\n Columbo feels his form distend,\n His beak grow crook\u2019d, claws extend;\n On his increasing strength presumes,\n And pleas\u2019d he shakes his alter\u2019d plumes,\n To single combat dares the foe,\n And deep imprints the fatal blow.\n The Kite expires,\u2014and peace again\n Reviv\u2019d to bless Columbo\u2019s reign.\n\n But flush\u2019d with conquest, proud in arms,\n He longs, he pants, for fresh alarms,\n And to himself elated thought\u2014\n \u201cHad I these gifts of Jove for nought?\u201d\n Now swelling high with proud disdain,\n He scorns his meek, his peaceful train;\n A thousand wives the monarch claims,\n And seizes all their fairest dames;\n A thousand slaves attend his will,\n A thousand nests his treasures fill;\n None for themselves eat, sleep, or love,\n \u2019Tis all the King\u2019s\u2014imperial Dove!\n Too noble grown for common food,\n He longs to taste of pigeon\u2019s blood;\n Nor long the appetite withstood.\n With treble anguish now they moan\n A wide destroyer on their throne,\n Despairing drag the galling chain,\n And vainly curse Columbo\u2019s reign.\n This fatal change let man informed pursue,\n Catch rising truths from every fabled view,\n And learn from hence no dang\u2019rous pow\u2019r to trust,\n E\u2019en with the wise, the gentle, and the just.\n Since e\u2019en that pow\u2019r less prompts to good than ill,\n And bends to vice vain man\u2019s unequal will\u2014\n Wrongs to redress ne\u2019er arm alone your friend,\n But, cloth\u2019d in equal might, his steps attend;\n Let equal arms your injur\u2019d rights maintain,\n Divide the strength, the labours, honours, gain:\n Still on a level, tho\u2019 with conquest bright,\n No traitor thoughts shall rise from matchless might:\n Peace with her genuine charms shall either bless,\n And just dependencies prevent excess.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE X._\n\nThe Camelion.\n\n Oft has it been my lot to mark\n A proud, conceited, talking spark,\n With eyes, that hardly serv\u2019d at most\n To guard their master \u2019gainst a post,\n Yet round the world the blade has been\n To see whatever could be seen.\n Returning from his finish\u2019d tour,\n Grown ten times perter than before,\n Whatever word you chance to drop,\n The travell\u2019d fool your mouth will stop;\n \u201cSir, if my judgment you\u2019ll allow\u2014\n I\u2019ve seen\u2014and sure I ought to know\u201d\u2014\n So begs you\u2019d pay a due submission,\n And acquiesce in his decision.\n\n Two travellers of such a cast,\n As o\u2019er Arabia\u2019s wild they past,\n And on their way in friendly chat\n Now talk\u2019d of this, and then of that,\n Discours\u2019d a while \u2019mongst other matter,\n Of the Camelion\u2019s form and nature.\n \u201cA stranger animal,\u201d cries one,\n \u201cSure never liv\u2019d beneath the sun:\n A lizard\u2019s body lean and long,\n A fish\u2019s head, a serpent\u2019s tongue;\n Its tooth with triple claw disjoin\u2019d;\n And what a length of tail behind!\n How slow its pace, and then its hue\u2014\n Who ever saw so fine a blue?\u201d\n\n \u201cHold there,\u201d the other quick replies,\n \u201c\u2019Tis green\u2014I saw it with these eyes,\n As late with open mouth it lay,\n And warm\u2019d itself in sunny ray;\n Stretch\u2019d at its ease the beast I view\u2019d,\n And saw it eat the air for food.\u201d\n\n \u201cI\u2019ve seen it, sir, as well as you,\n And must again affirm it blue:\n At leisure I the beast survey\u2019d,\n Extended in the cooling shade.\u201d\n\n \u201c\u2019Tis green, \u2019tis green, sir, I assure ye.\u201d\n \u201cGreen!\u201d cries the other in a fury.\n\n \u201cWhy, sir\u2014d\u2019ye think I\u2019ve lost my eyes?\u201d\n \u201c\u2019Twere no great loss,\u201d the friend replies;\n \u201cFor, if they always serve you thus,\n You\u2019ll find \u2019em but of little use.\u201d\n\n So high at last the contest rose,\n From words they almost came to blows:\n When luckily came by a third\u2014\n To him the question they refer\u2019d;\n And begg\u2019d he\u2019d tell \u2019em, if he knew,\n Whether the thing was green or blue.\n\n \u201cSirs,\u201d cries the umpire, \u201ccease your pother\u2014\n The creature\u2019s neither one nor t\u2019other.\n I caught the animal last night,\n And view\u2019d it o\u2019er by candle light:\n I mark\u2019d it well\u2014\u2019twas black as jet\u2014\n You stare\u2014but, sirs, I\u2019ve got it yet,\n And can produce it.\u201d \u201cPray, sir, do:\n I\u2019ll lay my life, the thing is blue.\u201d\n \u201cAnd I\u2019ll be sworn, that when you\u2019ve seen\n The reptile, you\u2019ll pronounce him green.\u201d\n\n \u201cWell, then, at once to ease the doubt,\u201d\n Replies the man, \u201cI\u2019ll turn him out:\n And when before your eyes I\u2019ve set him,\n If you don\u2019t find him black, I\u2019ll eat him.\u201d\n He said; then full before their sight\n Produc\u2019d the beast, and lo! \u2019twas white.\n Both star\u2019d, the man look\u2019d wondrous wise\u2014\n \u201cMy children,\u201d the Camelion cries,\n Then first the creature found a tongue,\n \u201cYou all are right, and all are wrong:\n When next you talk of what you view,\n Think others see, as well as you:\n Nor wonder, if you find that none\n Prefers your eye-sight to his own.\u201d\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XI._\n\nThe Three Warnings.\n\n The tree of deepest root is found\n Least willing still to quit the ground;\n \u2019Twas therefore said by ancient sages,\n That love of life increas\u2019d with years:\n So much, that in our latter stages,\n When pains grow sharp, and sickness rages,\n The greatest love of life appears.\n\n This great affection to believe,\n Which all confess, but few perceive,\n If old assertions can\u2019t prevail,\n Be pleas\u2019d to hear a modern tale.\n\n When sports went round, and all were gay\n On neighbour Dobson\u2019s wedding-day,\n Death call\u2019d aside the jocund groom\n With him into another room:\n And looking grave,\u2014\u201cYou must,\u201d says he,\n \u201cQuit your sweet bride, and come with me.\u201d\n \u201cWith you! and quit my Susan\u2019s side!\n With you!\u201d the hapless husband cry\u2019d:\n \u201cYoung as I am; \u2019tis monstrous hard;\n Besides, in truth, I\u2019m not prepar\u2019d:\n My thoughts on other matters go,\n This is my wedding-night, you know.\u201d\n\n What more he urg\u2019d I have not heard:\n His reasons could not well be stronger;\n For Death the poor delinquent spar\u2019d,\n And left to live a little longer.\n Yet calling up a serious look,\n His hour-glass trembling while he spoke,\n \u201cNeighbour,\u201d he said, \u201cFarewell: No more\n Shall death disturb your mirthful hour;\n And further to avoid all blame\n Of cruelty upon my name,\n To give you time for preparation,\n And fit you for your future station,\n Three several warnings you shall have\n Before you\u2019re summon\u2019d to the grave,\n Willing for once I\u2019ll quit my prey,\n And grant a kind reprieve:\n In hopes you\u2019ll have no more to say,\n But when I call again this way\n Well pleas\u2019d the world will leave.\u201d\n To these conditions both consented,\n And parted, perfectly contented.\n\n What next the hero of our tale befell,\n How long he liv\u2019d, how wise, how well,\n How roundly he pursu\u2019d his course,\u2014\n And smok\u2019d his pipe, and strok\u2019d his horse,\u2014\n The willing muse shall tell:\n He chaffer\u2019d on, he bought, he sold,\n Nor once perceiv\u2019d his growing old,\n Nor thought of death as near:\n His friends not false, his wife no shrew,\n Many his gains, his children few,\n He pass\u2019d his hours in peace;\n But while he view\u2019d his wealth increase,\n While thus along life\u2019s dusty road\n The beaten track content he trod,\n Old time, whose haste no mortal spares,\n Uncall\u2019d, unheeded, unawares,\n Brought on his eightieth year.\n\n And now one night in musing mood,\n As all alone he sat,\n Th\u2019 unwelcome messenger of fate,\n Once more before him stood.\n\n Half kill\u2019d with anger and surprise,\n \u201cSo soon return\u2019d!\u201d old Dobson cries:\n \u201cSo soon, d\u2019ye call it!\u201d Death replies:\n \u201cSurely, my friend, you\u2019re but in jest;\n Since I was here before,\n \u2019Tis six and forty or fifty years at least,\n And you are now fourscore.\u201d\n\n \u201cSo much the worse,\u201d the clown rejoin\u2019d:\n \u201cTo spare the aged would be kind:\n However, see your search be legal;\n And your authority\u2014Is\u2019t regal?\n Else you are come on a fool\u2019s errand,\n With but a secretary\u2019s warrant.\n Besides, you promis\u2019d me three warnings,\n Which I have look\u2019d for nights and mornings.\n But, for that loss of time and ease,\n I can recover damages.\u201d\n\n \u201cI know,\u201d cries Death, \u201cthat at the best,\n I seldom am a welcome guest;\n But don\u2019t be captious, friend, at least:\n I little thought you\u2019d still be able\n To stump about your farm and stable;\n Your years have run to a great length,\n I wish you joy tho\u2019 of your strength.\u201d\n\n \u201cHold,\u201d says the farmer, \u201cnot so fast,\n I have been lame these four years past.\u201d\n\n \u201cAnd no great wonder,\u201d Death replies,\n \u201cHowever you still keep your eyes,\n And sure to see one\u2019s loves and friends\n For legs and arms would make amends.\u201d\n\n \u201cPerhaps,\u201d says Dobson, \u201cso it might,\n But latterly I\u2019ve lost my sight.\u201d\n\n \u201cThis is a shocking story, faith,\n Yet there\u2019s some comfort still,\u201d says Death;\n \u201cEach strives your sadness to amuse,\n I warrant you hear all the news.\u201d\n\n \u201cThere\u2019s none,\u201d cries he, \u201cand if there were\n I\u2019m grown so deaf I could not hear.\u201d\n \u201cNay then,\u201d the spectre stern rejoin\u2019d,\n \u201cThese are unjustifi\u2019ble yearnings;\n If you are lame, and deaf, and blind,\n You\u2019ve had your three sufficient warnings.\n So come along, no more we\u2019ll part,\n He said, and touch\u2019d him with his dart;\n And now old Dobson, turning pale,\n Yields to his fate\u2014so ends my tale.\u201d\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XII._\n\nThe Caterpillar and Butterfly.\n\n The morning blush\u2019d with vivid red,\n And night in sudden silence fled;\n Sad Philomel no more complains,\n The lark begins his sprightly strains;\n Light paints the flow\u2019rs of various hue,\n And sparkles in the pendent dew;\n Life moves o\u2019er all the quicken\u2019d green,\n And beauty reigns, unrival\u2019d queen.\n\n Green as the leaf, on which he lay,\n A Caterpillar wak\u2019d to-day:\n And look\u2019d around, and chanc\u2019d to \u2019spy\n A leaf of more inviting dye;\n From where he lay he crawl\u2019d, and found\n The verdant spot\u2019s indented bound;\n Stretch\u2019d from the verge, he strove to gain\n The neighb\u2019ring leaf, but strove in vain.\n In that nice moment, prompt to save,\n A brother worm this warning gave.\n\n \u201cOh! turn, advent\u2019rous as thou art,\n Nor hence, deceiv\u2019d by hope, depart;\n What though the leaf, that tempts thee, shows\n More tasteful food, more soft repose;\n What, though with brighter spangles gay,\n Its dew reflects an earlier ray?\n Oh! think what dangers guard the prize;\n Oh! think what dangers; and be wise!\n The pass from leaf to leaf forbear;\n Behold how high they wave in air!\n And should\u2019st thou fall, tremendous thought!\n What ruin would avenge thy fault?\n Thy mangled carcase, writh\u2019d with pain,\n Shall mark with blood the dusty plain:\n Then death, the dread of all below,\n Thy wish\u2014will surely end thy woe;\n Untimely death, for now to die,\n Is ne\u2019er to rise a butterfly.\u201d\n \u201cA Butterfly!\u201d th\u2019 Advent\u2019rer cry\u2019d,\n \u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d \u201cA bird,\u201d his friend reply\u2019d,\n \u201cTo which this reptile form shall rise,\n And gorgeous mount the lofty skies;\n The joyful season time shall bring,\n He bears it on his rapid wing.\n An age there is, when all our kind,\n Disdain the ground, and mount the wind:\n And should thy friend this age attain\u2014\u201d\n With haste the worm reply\u2019d again,\n \u201cSay what assurance canst thou give,\n That I with birds a bird shall live?\n For could I trust thy pleasing tale,\n No wanton wish should e\u2019er prevail;\n For what, that worms obtain, can vie\n With bliss of birds that wing the sky?\u201d\n \u201cBelieve my words,\u201d th\u2019 Adviser said,\n \u201cSince not of private int\u2019rest bred;\n Not on thy life or death depend\n My pleasure or my pain\u2014\u2014 Attend!\n Like thee, to all the future blind,\n I knew not wings for worms design\u2019d,\n Till yon last sun\u2019s ascending light\n Remov\u2019d the dusky shades of night.\n Soon as his rays, from heav\u2019n sublime,\n Shone on that leaf you wish to climb;\n That leaf, which shades, in earliest hours,\n This less conspicuous spot of ours:\n Surpris\u2019d, a lovely form I saw,\n That touch\u2019d me with delight and awe;\n \u2019Twas near, and while my looks betray\u2019d\n My wonder,\u201d thus the Stranger said:\n\n \u201cIf view\u2019d by thee with wond\u2019rous eyes\n My graceful shape and vary\u2019d dyes,\n New wonder still prepare to feel,\n Amazing truths my words reveal:\n For know, like thine my humble birth;\n Like thee, I crawl\u2019d a worm on earth.\u201d\n\n \u201cAh! mock me not,\u201d said I, \u201cnor seek\n A worthless triumph o\u2019er the weak;\n Canst thou, thy form with down o\u2019erspread,\n By nature crown\u2019d thy regal head,\n Canst thou my reptile shape have worn?\n My reptile shape, of all the scorn!\n Hast thou! whose gorgeous wings display\n Each vary\u2019d tint that drinks the day,\n More bright than drops of orient dew,\n More gay than flow\u2019rs of gaudiest hue,\n With purple edg\u2019d, and fring\u2019d with gold,\n Like light, too splendid to behold!\n Hast thou, an abject worm like me,\n Crawl\u2019d prone on earth! it cannot be.\u201d\n\n \u201cOh! cease the doubts,\u201d the Stranger cry\u2019d,\n \u201cTo faith thy happiness ally\u2019d\u2014\n Not thrice the morn these eyes have view\u2019d,\n Since genial spring my life renew\u2019d;\n From death-like slumbers wak\u2019d, I found\n A guardian shell invest me round;\n The circling shield I broke, nor knew\n How long my safety hence I drew;\n But soon perceiv\u2019d, and knew the spot,\n Where once, a worm, I fix\u2019d my lot;\n The _past_ with wonder touch\u2019d my breast,\n More wonder still the _now_ imprest,\n With pleasure mixt\u2014the pleasure grew,\n At ev\u2019ry thought, at ev\u2019ry view;\n Transform\u2019d, my unknown pow\u2019r I try,\n I wave my wings, I rise! I fly!\n Enraptur\u2019d with the blissful change,\n From field to field I wanton range;\n From flow\u2019r to flow\u2019r, from tree to tree,\n And see whate\u2019er I wish to see;\n Now glide along the daisy\u2019d ground;\n Now wheel in wanton circles round;\n Now mount aloft, and sport in air,\n Transported, when I will, and where,\n Still present, to whate\u2019er invites,\n Each moment brings me new delights;\n Nor fear allays the joys I know,\n The dangers scorn\u2019d that lurk below;\n No trampling hoof, my former dread,\n Can crush me, mangled, to the dead.\n Ev\u2019n man himself pursues, in vain,\n My sportive circuit o\u2019er the plain.\u201d\n He said, and raptur\u2019d with the thought,\n New charms his bright\u2019ning plumage caught,\n He clapt his wings, his rapid flight\n I trac\u2019d with fond desiring sight,\n Oh! glorious state\u2014reserv\u2019d to this,\n I risk not life for reptile bliss;\n Oh! catch the glowing wish from me,\n The same the bliss reserv\u2019d for thee;\n Desist from ev\u2019ry rash design,\n And beauty, plumes, and wings are thine.\n He ceas\u2019d\u2014th\u2019 Advent\u2019rer thus reply\u2019d:\n \u201cBy thee the fancy\u2019d change be try\u2019d,\n The _now_ is _mine_, the _now_ alone,\n The _future_ fate\u2019s\u2014a dark unknown!\n To nature\u2019s voice my ears incline;\n All lovely, loving, all divine!\n To joy she courts, she points the way,\n And chides this cold, this dull delay.\n Farewell\u2014let hope thy bliss supply,\n And count thy gains with fancy\u2019s eye;\n Be thine the wings that time shall send,\n Believing and obliging friend.\u201d\u2014\n\n He said, and sneering sly disdain,\n The neighb\u2019ring leaf attempts to gain;\n He falls\u2014all bruis\u2019d on earth he lies;\n Too late repents, and groans, and dies.\n His friendly monitor, with care,\n Avoids each pleasure-baited snare,\n False pleasure, false, and fatal too!\n Superior joys he keeps in view;\n They come\u2014the genial spring supplies\n The wings he hoped, and lo! he flies;\n Tastes all that summer suns prepare,\n And all the joys of earth and air!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XIII._\n\nThe Two Doves.\n\n Two Turtles once, of gentlest kind,\n In softest bands by love were join\u2019d;\n \u2019Til tired of home Columbo grew,\n And pensive sigh\u2019d for something new;\n For distant realms prepar\u2019d to part,\u2014\n When spoke the partner of his heart:\n \u201cWhy should my dear Columbo rove,\n And leave me widow\u2019d in the grove\u2014\n What ill can worse than absence prove?\n Yet let the toils, the perils, cares,\n Which fate for travellers prepares,\n Retard thy speed\u2014attend the spring,\n And wait the zephyr\u2019s aiding wing;\n What haste?\u2014this hour, ill omen\u2019d found!\n The raven\u2019s croak was heard around;\n Hawks, nets, and ills of ev\u2019ry kind\n Henceforth shall haunt my boding mind;\n And what does Heav\u2019n at home deny\n That thou canst wish, or Heav\u2019n supply?\u201d\n\n These words in doubt Columbo hold,\n Still weakly vain, and rashly bold;\n At length his restless wish prevails,\n And love, and fear, and prudence fails:\n When thus he spoke with cheerful air\u2014\n \u201cFrom Turturella far be care,\n No more let tears those eyes distain,\n Whate\u2019er I seek three days shall gain;\n Returning then, to thee I\u2019ll tell\n Whate\u2019er I saw, or me befell:\n Amusing thus the pensive day,\n Who little see, can little say,\n Of rich description full, my tale\n Shall oft thy listening ear regale;\n The scenes I\u2019ll paint so strong, so true,\n In fancy thou shalt travel too.\u201d\n\n This said, Farewell dissolves his heart,\n And wet with mutual tears they part.\n\n As Turturella pensive sate,\n In fancy wand\u2019ring with her mate,\n Far as her utmost ken she sees\n A bird approach by slow degrees;\n Not form\u2019d for flight he seem\u2019d, nor song,\n But stopp\u2019d by turns, and limp\u2019d along:\n Her pains who feels can tell alone,\n The bird for chang\u2019d Columbo known;\n Her mate, with pearly tears to greet,\n Down from her nest she flew to meet.\n Awhile with silent grief opprest,\n At length she softly him addrest:\n \u201cOh! tell me, dear Columbo, tell\n What scenes you saw, what woes befell;\n Why wounded thus Columbo mourns,\n And ere th\u2019 appointed day returns?\u201d\n With falt\u2019ring voice Columbo cry\u2019d,\n \u201cFrom thee no more my heart I hide\u2014\n Scarce from this peaceful grove I past\n When sudden clouds the skies o\u2019ercast;\n I saw the storm, for shelter sought,\n A single tree that shelter brought,\n Thin leav\u2019d, and pervious to the show\u2019r,\n I felt the rig\u2019rous season\u2019s power.\n The cloud dissolv\u2019d, benumb\u2019d with cold,\n Again my dripping wings unfold;\n In neighb\u2019ring fields some corn I view,\n And, hov\u2019ring near, a turtle too;\n By flatt\u2019ring hopes deluded there,\n I struggled in the fowler\u2019s snare:\n The turtle tutor\u2019d to betray,\n Beneath the bait a net there lay.\n Unwonted strength despair supply\u2019d,\n I broke the snare my feet that ty\u2019d;\n With less than half my tail I fled,\n And trail\u2019d behind a broken thread,\n A remnant of the snare, when lo!\n A vulture sees me, dreadful foe!\n Just as he stoop\u2019d to snatch the prey,\n From heav\u2019n an eagle wing\u2019d his way;\n I, while the sons of rapine fight,\n Improv\u2019d the lucky hour in flight\n The ruins of a cot were near,\n I thought my dangers ended here;\n Deceitful thought! a playful boy\n (The cruel race in sport destroy)\n Whirl\u2019d round the sling, the rapid stone\n Laid bare my pinion to the bone.\n Yet reach I living this abode,\n What signal mercies Heav\u2019n bestow\u2019d!\n Left in this grove to sigh alone\n What fate has Turturella known?\u201d\n \u201cMore signal yet, by far,\u201d said she,\n \u201cThe mercies Heav\u2019n bestow\u2019d on me.\u201d\n \u201cAlas! what woes,\u201d Columbo cry\u2019d,\n \u201cIn this short absence hast thou try\u2019d?\n What near escapes to equal mine?\n Amazing marks of love divine!\u201d\n \u201cThe woes averted from my head\n Are those which thou hast felt,\u201d she said;\n \u201cNo near escapes \u2019twas mine to prove,\n What more amazing mark of love!\n In _ease_ and _safety_ more I gain\n Than _life_ to thee, preserv\u2019d with pain,\n See then the mercies that I meant,\n Which Heav\u2019n to give me, gave Content!\n Learn hence the gifts of Jove to prize,\n And, ere misfortunes teach, be wise.\u201d\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XIV._\n\nThe Beau and Butterfly.\n\n When summer deckt each sylvan scene,\n And sunshine smil\u2019d along the green,\n When groves allur\u2019d with noon-tide shade,\n And purling brooks refresh\u2019d the glade;\n An empty form of empty show,\n A flutt\u2019ring insect, call\u2019d a Beau,\n In gaudy colours rich and gay,\n A mere papilio of the day,\n Was seen around the fields to rove,\n And haunt, by turns, the stream and grove:\n A silver zone entwin\u2019d his head,\n His belly shone with lively red,\n His wings were green, but studded o\u2019er\n With gold-embroider\u2019d spots before.\n Around him various insects came,\n Of diff\u2019rent colour, different name;\n And, ting\u2019d with every gorgeous dye,\n Among the rest a Butterfly;\n His wings are spread with wanton pride,\n And beauty fades from all beside.\n The Beau beholds, with envious eyes,\n The living radiance as it flies:\n \u201cAnd shall,\u201d said he, \u201cthis worthless thing.\n That lives but on a summer\u2019s wing,\n This flying worm, more gaudy shine,\n And wear a dress more gay than mine?\n Is this wise Nature\u2019s equal care\n To deck a Butterfly so fair,\n While man, her worthiest, greatest part,\n Must wear the homely rags of art?\u201d\n Thus reason\u2019d he, as reason beaux,\n The subject of their logic clothes;\n When thus the Butterfly reply\u2019d,\n With deeper tints by anger dy\u2019d:\n \u201cVain, trifling mortal! could\u2019st thou boast\n To prize what Nature prizes most\n On man bestow\u2019d, thou would\u2019st not see\n With envy aught she gives to me.\n This painted vestment, all my store,\n She gives, and I can claim no more\u2014\n But man, for greater ends design\u2019d,\n Should boast the beauties of the mind.\n More bright than gold with wisdom shine,\n And virtue\u2019s sacred charms be thine:\n To rule the world by reason taught,\n On dress disdain to waste a thought;\n For he, whom folly bends so low,\n Ambitious to be thought a beau.\n Is studious only to be gay,\n In toilet-arts consumes the day;\n And, the long trifling labours o\u2019er,\n Takes wing, and bids the world adore;\n Looks down with scorn on rival flies,\n Himself less splendid and less wise;\n With scorn, his scorn return\u2019d again,\n Proud insect! impotently vain!\n The fool who thus by self is priz\u2019d,\n By others justly is despis\u2019d.\u201d\n She said, and flutter\u2019d round on high,\n Nor stay\u2019d to hear the Beau\u2019s reply.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XV._\n\nThe Bears and Bees.\n\n As two young Bears in wanton mood,\n Forth-issuing from a neighb\u2019ring wood,\n Came where th\u2019 industrious Bees had stor\u2019d\n In artful cells their luscious hoard;\n O\u2019erjoy\u2019d they seiz\u2019d with eager haste\n Luxurious on the rich repast.\n Alarm\u2019d at this, the little crew\n About their ears vindictive flew.\n The beasts, unable to sustain\n Th\u2019 unequal combat, quit the plain:\n Half blind with rage, and mad with pain,\n Their native shelter they regain;\n There sit, and now discreeter grown,\n Too late their rashness they bemoan;\n And this by dear experience gain,\n \u201cThat pleasure\u2019s ever bought with pain.\u201d\n So when the gilded baits of vice\n Are plac\u2019d before our longing eyes,\n With greedy haste we snatch our fill,\n And swallow down the latent ill;\n But when experience opes our eyes,\n Away the fancied pleasure flies\u2014\n It flies, but oh! too late we find\n It leaves a real sting behind.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XVI._\n\nThe Trees.\n\n Once on a time, when great Sir Oak\n Held all the trees beneath his yoke,\n The monarch, anxious to maintain,\n In peaceful state, his sylvan reign,\n Saw, to his sorrow and distraction,\n His subject trees take root in faction,\n And, though late join\u2019d in union hearty,\n Now branching into shoots of party,\n Each sturdy stick of factious wood\n Stood stiff and stout for public good:\n For patriots ever, \u2019tis well known,\n Seek others welfare, not their own,\n And all they undertake, you know,\n Is meant _pro bono publico_.\n The hardy Fir, from northern earth\n Who took its name, and drew its birth,\n The Oak plac\u2019d next him to support\n His government, and grace his court.\n The Fir, of an uncommon size,\n Rear\u2019d his tall head unto the skies,\n O\u2019er-topp\u2019d his fellow-plants, his height\n Who view\u2019d, and sicken\u2019d at the sight:\n With envy ev\u2019ry fibre swell\u2019d,\n While in them the proud sap rebell\u2019d;\n \u201cShall then,\u201d they cried, \u201cthe Ash, the Elm,\n The Beech, no longer rule the helm?\n What! shall the ignoble Fir, a plant,\n In tempest born, and nurs\u2019d in want,\n Far from black regions of the north,\n And native famine, issue forth;\n In this our happier soil take root,\n And dare our birthright to dispute?\u201d\n On this the fatal storm began,\n Confusion thro\u2019 the forest ran;\n Mischief in each dark shade was brewing,\n And all betoken\u2019d general ruin:\n While each, to make their party good,\n Brib\u2019d the vile shrubs and underwood:\n And now the Bramble and the Thistle\n Sent forth essay, ode, epistle;\n To which anon, with equal mettle,\n Replied the Thorn and stinging Nettle.\n \u201cWhat\u2019s to be done, or how oppose\n The storm which in the forest rose?\u201d\n Grief shook the mighty monarch\u2019s mind,\n And his sighs labour\u2019d in the wind.\n At length, the tumult, strife, and quarrel,\n Alarming the sagacious laurel,\n His mind unto the King he broke,\n And thus addrest him: \u201cHeart of Oak!\n Sedition is on foot, make ready;\n And fix your empire firm and steady.\n Faction in vain shall shake the wood,\n While you pursue the general good.\n Fear not a foe, trust not a friend,\n Upon yourself alone depend.\n If not too partially ally\u2019d,\n By fear or love to either side,\n In vain shall jarring factions strive,\n Cabals in vain dark plots contrive.\n Slave to no foe, dupe to no minion,\n Maintain an equal just dominion:\n So shall you stand by storms unbroke,\n And all revere the ROYAL OAK.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XVII._\n\nThe Philosopher and Glow-Worm.\n\n When toilsome hours of day were spent,\n The world seem\u2019d wrapt in calm content,\n Each anxious care forsook the breast,\n Sleep gently clos\u2019d each eye to rest,\n Cynthia her brightest aspect wore,\n And Heav\u2019n\u2019s expanse was studded o\u2019er,\n A sage, by meditation drawn,\n Forsook his cot, and sought the lawn;\n In contemplation deep he stray\u2019d,\n And nature\u2019s dozing charms survey\u2019d;\n On either hand new beauties view\u2019d,\n As he his tranquil walk pursu\u2019d.\n By chance, a Glow-Worm, in his way,\n Shone forth his little glitt\u2019ring ray,\n Proudly unfolding ev\u2019ry grace,\n As trailing round from place to place;\n Illumining the moss-fring\u2019d plain.\n On other worms he look\u2019d disdain.\n The sage, with philosophic eye,\n Survey\u2019d the wand\u2019rer crawling by;\n Then stooping low, with gentle hand,\n High lifts him from the dew-fraught land.\n The grub, tho\u2019 not dismay\u2019d thro\u2019 fear,\n Conscious he was not in his sphere,\n Withdrew his beam of light away,\n To hear what man\u2014vain man\u2014would say.\n The learn\u2019d Philosopher, amaz\u2019d,\n Paus\u2019d for some time, and anxious gaz\u2019d;\n Astonish\u2019d that the worm should die\n So soon, then careless threw it by;\n But first, this application made:\u2014\n \u201cThis creeping reptile, lo! is dead,\n And with his life, his glory\u2019s fled.\n So is\u2019t with all _ambition\u2019s_ race,\n Who fill up each exalted place:\n Brilliant they shine with borrow\u2019d ray,\n And wanton in the blaze of day,\n \u2019Till fortune\u2019s second wheel turns round,\n And leaves them where they first were found.\u201d\n\n The Glow-Worm with attention heard,\n And weigh\u2019d with prudence ev\u2019ry word,\n Trim\u2019d bright his little lamp again.\n And shone more beauteous o\u2019er the plain\n Then thus address\u2019d the wond\u2019ring sage,\n The known Philos\u2019pher of the age:\n \u201cKnow thou, the happy pow\u2019r to shine\n Is truly man\u2019s as well as mine;\n I know my sphere, did he the same,\n He\u2019d tread _that_ path that leads to fame;\n Did he in dang\u2019rous times retire,\n And check with care _ambition\u2019s_ fire,\n Like me he might new lustre spread.\n And deck with laurels fresh his head.\n But, coxcomb like, he\u2019s led astray\n To shine, and shines but for a day.\u201d\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XVIII._\n\nThe Angler and the Philosopher.\n\n Beside a gentle murm\u2019ring brook\n An Angler took his patient stand;\n He ey\u2019d the stream with anxious look,\n And wav\u2019d his rod with cautious hand.\n\n The bait with nicest art was drest,\n The fishes left their safe retreat;\n And one more eager than the rest,\n Look\u2019d, long\u2019d, and swallow\u2019d the deceit.\n\n Too late she felt the poignant smart,\n Her pitying friends her fate deplore;\n The Angler with well-practis\u2019d art,\n Play\u2019d, hook\u2019d, and drew her to the shore.\n\n Lur\u2019d by the beauty of the day,\n The sun now sinking in the sky,\n A sage pursu\u2019d his walk that way,\n And saw the bleeding victim lie.\n\n Far in the vale of years declin\u2019d,\n He watch\u2019d the course of nature\u2019s law;\n And thus with philosophic mind,\n He moralis\u2019d on what he saw:\n\n \u201cIndulge, awhile, the pensive vein,\n And fix this image in your mind;\n You\u2019ve hook\u2019d a fish; observe its pain,\n And view the state of human kind.\n\n \u201cFate gives us line, we shift the scene,\n And jocund traverse to and fro;\n Pain, sickness, still will intervene,\n We feel the hook where\u2019er we go.\n\n \u201cIf, proudly, we our schemes extend,\n And look beyond the present hour,\n We find our straiten\u2019d prospects end,\n And own an over-ruling pow\u2019r.\n\n \u201cAwhile we sport, awhile lament,\n Fate checks the line, and we are gone;\n Dragg\u2019d from our wonted element,\n To distant climes, untry\u2019d, unknown.\u201d\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XIX._\n\nThe Lion and other Beasts in Council.\n\n The kingly ruler of the plain,[10]\n Just ent\u2019ring on his savage reign,\n To grace his coronation feast,\n Sent and invited every beast;\n And soon the royal cave beheld\n With all his various subjects fill\u2019d:\n For leagues of peace were lately made,\n And lambs and wolves together play\u2019d;\n Foxes and tim\u2019rous hares agree\n With dogs, their common enemy:\n And now a sumptuous table spread,\n Friendly they altogether fed;\n And having din\u2019d, sit still and prate\n Familiarly of this and that:\n Till with a kind, yet serious look,\n The King, desiring audience, spoke.\n\n \u201cMy friends, and loving subjects all,\n Who\u2019ve kindly thus obey\u2019d my call,\n I give you thanks, and now I crave\n Your further kindness to receive:\n I\u2019m seated on the throne, you see,\n In peaceable tranquillity;\n No cares of war disturb my breast;\n With taxes you are not opprest;\n This life I\u2019ll therefore spend in joy;\n None shall be happier than I.\n But lest I should pursue false bliss,\n What I would ask of you is this,\n To tell me\u2014what true pleasure is?\u201d\n\n The beasts seem\u2019d pleas\u2019d with this request;\n Each thought he could advise him best,\n And striving who should silence break,\n They all at once rose up to speak:\n Till by his majesty\u2019s command,\n Their forward zeal was soon restrain\u2019d;\n Who calmly bidding them sit down,\n And let him hear them one by one,\n Th\u2019 impatient Monkey thus began:\n\n \u201cPleasure, my liege, is free from strife,\n To lead a thoughtless, easy life;\n Airy, and wild, and brisk, and gay,\n To sing, and dance, and laugh, and play;\n Now following this, now that, and that,\n And so\u2019t be new, no matter what;\n Free from all rules of just and fit,\n Do mischief first, then laugh at it:\n This is diversion, pleasure, wit.\u201d\n\n The Ass was here provok\u2019d to rise,\n And gravely thus bray\u2019d his advice:\n \u201cIf,\u201d said he, \u201creal pleasure is\n In such buffoonery as this,\n Then beaux and smarts, amongst mankind,\n Are in their notions most refin\u2019d;\n But well we know, by men of sense,\n They\u2019re tax\u2019d with vain impertinence.\n I therefore think true pleasure lies\n (If I may be thought fit t\u2019advise)\n In careless indolence and ease,\n Not suff\u2019ring anything to tease,\n Regardless what th\u2019 ambitious fly at,\n So we\u2019re but undisturb\u2019d and quiet;\n Well knowing \u2019tis but to attain\n More ease, that they\u2019re at so much pain.\n And he\u2019s more happy, none can doubt it,\n Who\u2019s easy without taking pains about it.\u201d\n\n Now rose the Hog, and with a grunt,\n \u201cPleasure,\u201d cry\u2019d he, \u201cthey know nought on\u2019t.\n A life trail\u2019d on in laziness\n Can only suit a stupid Ass,\n And fool\u2019d away in Monkey mirth,\n It\u2019s really full as little worth;\n For doing nothing worthy fame\n And doing nothing\u2019s much the same.\n But if you\u2019d real pleasure know,\n Let generous liquor smiling flow;\n In jovial crews spend every hour,\n And drink, and sing, and rant, and roar:\n Thus every care will sink and drown,\n Whilst mirth and joy run laughing round.\n I seem a monarch while I drink so,\n And you\u2019ll be a god do you but think so.\u201d\n\n Here bursts the Goat into a laugh,\n And thus beginning with a scoff:\n \u201cDoubtless,\u201d said he, \u201cit must be fine\n T\u2019exalt a nasty, dirty swine,\n To such a height in fancying,\n As to believe himself a King.\n But that which thus perverts our senses\n Can have, I think, but small pretences\n To recommend it to our favour,\n As pleasure of the truest flavour.\n Nature, methinks, should guide in this,\n Who seems t\u2019have shewn the highest bliss,\n In having plac\u2019d the sweetest gust,\n In gratifying natural lust.\n And that \u2019tis the sublimest joy,\n I think \u2019s so plain none can deny.\n Witness the mad tormenting pain,\n When disappointed, we sustain.\n Witness how eagerly we press on,\n Witness our raptures in possession.\u201d\n\n But here the Leopard, rising slow,\n Expos\u2019d his beauteous spots to show,\n And with a grave majestic face,\n Thus gave his verdict in the case:\n \u201cPleasure consists not in such short\n Imperfect transitory sport,\n Of which the pains we\u2019re at to get it,\n O\u2019erpays the bliss when we come at it;\n Nor can it e\u2019er be call\u2019d true joy,\n With such a mixture of alloy.\n No, that must be the most refin\u2019d\n Which most exalts and charms the mind;\n And nothing sure more charming is,\n Than honour, pomp, and dignities,\n Than grandeur and magnificence,\n Than sumptuous trains and vast expense,\n Than place, distinction, and preferment,\n And when we die, a grand interment.\u201d\n\n At this the Horse, with noble look,\n Raising his crested neck, thus spoke:\n \u201cThat merit should be rais\u2019d on high,\n I think \u2019s so just none can deny;\n But he who places all his bliss\n In the external pomp of this,\n Knows not what greatness, nor what pleasure is;\n His judgment errs as much at least\n As his who thinks that painting best\n Which is in gaudiest colours drest.\n Of both we may affirm the same,\n Their taste lies only in the gilded frame.\n I grant preferment, honour, place,\n Are rising steps to happiness;\n But whilst we\u2019re upwards thus aspiring,\n We\u2019re anxious still, and still desiring.\n To act with an unbounded will,\n Can only our desires fulfil;\n Whence, the highest bliss, in my opinion,\n Must be in power and dominion.\u201d\n\n Thus all their various sense exprest,\n And each advis\u2019d what he thought best:\n But still what each as best esteem\u2019d\n Was by the next that spoke condemn\u2019d:\n Meanwhile the savage monarch sate,\n Attentive to the warm debate;\n The nature saw, without disguise,\n Of every beast in his advice.\n But soon the disputants grew rude,\n Confusion, noise, tumultuous feud\n Enrage the jarring multitude.\n Till weary\u2019d out, the royal beast\n Thus spoke, and silenc\u2019d all the rest:\n\n \u201cCease, cease your vain contention, cease\n Your shallow schemes of happiness;\n Which only have confirm\u2019d me more,\n \u2019Tis where I thought it was before.\n Greatness is no establishment\n Of real bliss, or true content;\n Luxurious banquets soon disgust;\n We\u2019re quickly pall\u2019d with sensual lust:\n Virtue alone can give true joy;\n The sweets of virtue never cloy.\n To take delight in doing good,\n In justice, truth, and gratitude,\n In aiding those whom cares oppress,\n Administ\u2019ring comfort to distress:\n These, these are joys which all who prove\n Anticipate the bliss above.\n These are the joys, and these alone\n We ne\u2019er repent or wish undone.\u201d\n He spoke; the beasts without delay\n Rose from their seats, and sneak\u2019d away.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XX._\n\nThe Goat and Fox.\n\n Studious from diff\u2019ring tales to show\n That virtue makes our bliss below,\n My warning voice to ev\u2019ry heart,\n May ev\u2019ry faithful ear impart;\n This one important truth believ\u2019d,\n Who can by vice be still deceiv\u2019d?\n Bliss is our aim, and bliss our end,\n And he who points the path, a friend.\n A Goat and Fox, by joint consent,\n Together once a journey went;\n With patient steps from morning\u2019s dawn,\n They measur\u2019d hill, and vale, and lawn;\n When Ph\u0153bus in the zenith rode,\n A cheerless, pathless waste they trod;\n The fainting wand\u2019rers wide around,\n With sighs survey\u2019d the burning ground;\n Again, and yet again they look,\n To find the welcome cooling brook;\n The welcome cooling brook in vain\n They sought around the sun-burnt plain.\n Onward they slowly pass, when lo!\n A pit\u2014and water\u2014deep below;\n Urg\u2019d by a strong desire to drink,\n They both leap headlong from the brink.\n For appetite still foremost goes,\n Quite blind to all beyond its nose;\n And reason, impotently kind,\n A tardy friend, limps far behind.\n\n Now when our pair had drank amain,\n They thought of getting out again;\n And long with aching hearts they try\u2019d,\n But this the steep ascent denied.\n Reynard at length the goat addrest,\n And thus his wily thought exprest:\n\n \u201cCourage, my friend,\u2014be rul\u2019d by me,\n We\u2019ll soon from this mischance be free;\n Here\u2014of the pit the shallowest place,\n On your hind legs your body raise,\n And while thy horns my weight sustain,\n At one light bound the shore I\u2019ll gain;\n And thence effectual aid can lend\n To save thee, too, my dearest friend?\u201d\u2014\n\n The Goat consents\u2014and by his aid\n The Fox his leap successful made;\n His friend look\u2019d up, well pleased no doubt,\n And deem\u2019d himself as good as out;\n But the false Fox with barb\u2019rous sneer,\n Cry\u2019d, \u201cPox! how came you scrambling here?\u201d\n The Goat reply\u2019d, \u201cForbear to flout,\n Lest I should ask how you got out.\u201d\n Said he, \u201cOf that no doubt remains,\n You\u2019d horns, my friend,\u2014and I had brains,\n You wear that wisdom on your chin,\n Which I, more modest, hide within.\n We beasts of sprightly thought despise\n All who like thee look gravely wise\u2014\n Improve these useful hints aright,\n You\u2019ll profit much\u2014and so good night.\u201d\n\n This said, he titt\u2019ring slunk away,\n The Goat remain\u2019d to death a prey.\n In wonder lost, with horror chill\u2019d,\n With anguish, indignation fill\u2019d,\n The traitor-friend\u2019s enormous guile,\n Engross\u2019d his shudd\u2019ring soul awhile;\n Awhile the wretched beast forgot\n His pity\u2019d, helpless, hopeless lot;\n But after short suspense his woes\n Return\u2019d\u2014as the stem\u2019d torrent flows,\n With trebled force\u2014he scarce sustain\u2019d\n The shock\u2014and thus at length profan\u2019d:\n \u201cFor ever let that maxim cease,\n \u2018That virtue\u2019s paths are paths of peace.\u2019\n Where\u2019s that reward which learned pride\n Boasts none from virtue can divide?\n Where the sure woes of various kinds,\n Which fate to vice for ever binds?\n Life, joy (or what could make him smile).\n The Fox obtains thro\u2019 horrid guile;\n My life, my humble guiltless joys,\n At once a gen\u2019rous trust destroys;\n Jove\u2019s slumb\u2019ring vengeance lets him fly,\n His goodness slumbers while I die.\u201d\n\n A sylvan god who pass\u2019d that way\n (Of old none wander\u2019d more than they),\n By chance the rash impeachment heard,\n And instant on the brink appear\u2019d.\n \u201cLook up,\u201d he cries, \u201cno more despair,\n The help you wish prevents your prayer;\n Safe on the wish\u2019d substantial plain,\n I\u2019ll set thy dying feet again.\n The Fox with envy didst thou see?\n Henceforth thyself a Fox shalt be.\u2014\n Thou shalt his prosp\u2019rous vice possess,\n And taste a Fox\u2019s happiness.\u201d\n\n The thing was done as soon as said,\n A Fox, the Goat enfranchis\u2019d, fled;\n But feels within his alter\u2019d mind,\n His narrow\u2019d love to self confin\u2019d.\n No more from others good his breast\n The social joy serene possess\u2019d;\n No more by kind compassion mov\u2019d,\n His mercy is by foes approv\u2019d.\n Now mutual wants, love\u2019s band below,\n No means to fix a friend bestow;\n Unlov\u2019d, unloving, deep in earth\n He gives his schemes of plunder birth.\n From injur\u2019d man, his friend so late,\n He fears the stroke of potent hate;\n With grief looks back on periods past,\n His bloodless food, a blest repast!\n Which late he cropt in peace profound,\n With flocks, and herds, and men around;\n Yet now abhors that guiltless food,\n To rapine doom\u2019d, and thirst of blood;\n And mourns the days (to this a slave)\n When heav\u2019n a happier nature gave:\n \u201cBy dear experience now I know,\n That virtue\u2019s only bliss below,\u201d\n He, sighing, said, in sad despair,\n And thus prefers a falt\u2019ring pray\u2019r:\n \u201cYe gracious pow\u2019rs who rule above!\n Who virtue and it\u2019s vot\u2019ries love!\n I see my fault, my fault repent,\n And own I ask\u2019d the pains you sent.\n I now th\u2019 unrighteous thought forego.\n That vice is bliss, and virtue woe:\n Oh! make me what I was again,\n Tho\u2019 faint I tread the scorching plain;\n Tho\u2019 with a faithless Fox I stray,\n Me tho\u2019 again his wiles betray,\n Make me a goat, tho\u2019 void of wit,\n You leave me dying in the pit:\n \u2019Tis better far than thus alone\n To live without one joy my own;\n For while the past my mind retains,\n My present pleasures are but pains.\u201d\n\n He pray\u2019d, to Jove the pray\u2019r ascends;\n His ear to pray\u2019rs like these He lends.\n \u201cI (said the god) thy wish fulfil,\n Henceforth, be virtuous\u2014if you will\n Be man\u2014to him that pow\u2019r I give;\n Go, and by past experience live.\u201d\n Transform\u2019d again with lifted eyes,\n The man his story thus applies:\u2014\n\n \u201cFrom what appears, how little do we know\n What others feel of happiness or woe!\n Is vice your envy when of health possess\u2019d,\n With power, and pelf, and all externals blest?\n Know that amidst that health, and power and pelf,\n The thriving villain must abhor himself;\n For who can bear, tho\u2019 desperately brave,\n The voice of conscience when it calls him knave?\n Or who so dull, without regret to miss\n Of conscious goodness the substantial bliss?\n Ask your own heart, and search thro\u2019 all you know,\n Consult each various scene of life below,\n All, all this universal truth attest,\n The virtuous are, and can alone be blest.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXI._\n\nThe Kite and Nightingale.\n\n I\u2019ll try to mimic honest _Gay_,\n Who had a very decent way;\n A pleasant wight of simple sort,\n For ever filliping the court.\n Let courts be quiet, if they know\n The happy knack of being so.\n The pestilence flies everywhere,\n Almost indefinite as air:\n All places need the fanning breeze,\n To dissipate the rank disease.\n Vice\u2014(not like beasts for show\u2014confin\u2019d)\n Runs mad at large, and bites mankind:\n Alike the taint infects the brain\n Of those that dwell in court and plain:\n The same wild fury acts the will\n In different ways, with different skill.\n\n A starving Kite, upon a bar\n (Worn out with long fatigues of war),\n Whose pointed claws, and hooked bill,\n Shew\u2019d his profession was to kill,\n Thus grieving spoke in doleful strain:\n (Your heart will pity and disdain)\u2014\n\n \u201cHow blind is everything on earth!\n And how injurious to my worth!\n Tho\u2019 all the cote my sorrow see,\n No dove will help me with a pea:\n _Hob\u2019s_ field they robb\u2019d a month together,\n I never hurt a single feather;\n The lark, whom I secure to rest\n (I slew the snake that robb\u2019d her nest),\n Will not a little worm supply;\n But would rejoice to see me die.\n No crow invites me to a treat,\n Tho\u2019 what I kill\u2019d he often eat.\n Man, were he grateful, would determine\n My merit in destroying vermin;\n And make me happy to the last,\n In justice to my service past.\n But man, that thankless wretch is he,\n Prefers yon Nightingale to me.\u201d\n\n \u201cAlas! (the Nightingale replies)\n I own my little merit lies\n In innocence and tender cares\n About my family affairs;\n Or chaunting soft a pretty tale,\n To please my neighbours of the vale;\n Perhaps we gratitude may want,\n Because you are too arrogant:\n Your worth, display\u2019d with all your skill,\n Lies chiefly in omitting ill;\n And only then for want of power\n To seize the dove you would devour.\n There\u2019s not a lark that flies, but knows\n You long to grasp her in your claws.\n The crow you never meant to treat;\n You left him what you could not eat;\n And man, who most a villain needs,\n Detests you for your wicked deeds.\n You pilfer duckling, game, and chicken,\n Which furnish man with dainty picking.\n There\u2019s not a poacher roams the wood,\n But who would shoot you, if he could.\u201d\n\n Just had he said; forth pops a spark,\n With gun and spaniel from the park;\n The Kite he kens, with levell\u2019d gun,\n And brings the bloody boaster down.\n\n Thus justly villains are repaid,\n Who follow mischief as a trade:\n Who merit can pretend alone,\n When cruel work is to be done,\n To crush their kindred sort of men\n With sword, with halter, or with pen;\n Whose hollow merit is, at best,\n To seem the most, and be the least;\n Who own no right, pursue no guide,\n But only interest or pride;\n Or both together do prefer,\n To run most certainly to err.\n Such always claim beyond their due,\n And always think you wrong them too;\n Do all the wrong, yet most complain,\n Whene\u2019er they spread the net in vain;\n Or bait a hook that fails to catch\n The simple trout for which they watch\n And innocence, with squint and frown,\n Condemn _for vices all their own_.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXII._\n\nThe Four Bulls.\n\n Friendship! source of bliss sedate,\n Best balm for all the wounds of fate!\n \u2019Tis thine the sinking heart to raise,\n When love retires, and health decays;\n Unmix\u2019d with thy sublimer fire,\n Love\u2019s but a fev\u2019rish low desire,\n And ill the self-destroying flame\n Deserves that soft angelic name.\n\n Oh! could this verse, this fabling lay,\n Extend or but confirm thy sway!\n Or, warn\u2019d by this, if only one\n Thy foes\u2019 destructive arts shall shun!\n\n Since dangers rise with every sun,\n With ev\u2019ry sand united run;\n Four Bulls, by mutual vows ally\u2019d,\n The morrow\u2019s unknown ills defy\u2019d;\n As one they mov\u2019d, they fought, they fed,\n And safety rose by union bred,\n Nor this alone the good they found,\n The private bliss of each went round;\n Hence doubly bless\u2019d the gen\u2019rous heart,\n Which scorns the bliss it can\u2019t impart.\n From day to day the Lion came,\n But matters still appear\u2019d the same:\n This smote his inmost soul with grief,\n For much he long\u2019d for fav\u2019rite beef;\n What can he do? he fears to wage\n Unequal war, and four engage.\n Thought follows thought\u2014he finds in vain:\n Yet thought to thought succeeds again.\n Half-form\u2019d resolves, and embryo schemes,\n And all the train of statesmen\u2019s dreams,\n With conflict rude disturb his mind,\n To this nor that success inclin\u2019d.\n Suspense presides with fluttering wings,\n From which she shakes a thousand stings.\n\n In this disastrous doubting case,\n The Fox appears\u2014with thinking face;\n On him his royal master laid\n His load of care, secure of aid;\n Who paus\u2019d a while with sober grace,\n Then thus refin\u2019d upon the case:\u2014\n\n Not things of moment most, I find,\n Have broke the union of the mind;\n Ev\u2019n mere mistakes, that pet or pride\n Have made, the sacred band divide,\n And deepest enmities arise.\n From trifling things among the wise.\n In friendship, slight\u2019s the deepest wound,\n And that is fancy\u2019d more than found.\n These hints improv\u2019d, our ends may gain,\n The Bulls divided, count \u2019em slain;\n The Lion, pleas\u2019d, reply\u2019d, he knew\n The Fox could forge a lie\u2014or two;\n Which he opin\u2019d, in points like this,\n Would not be very much amiss.\n\n Here wiser Reynard shook his head,\n And this would never do, he said:\n \u2019Tis ours to make these foolish elves,\n My lord, be liars to themselves:\n Suspicion rais\u2019d, the very eye\n Will unsuspected gravely lie,\n And, when a friend it shall survey,\n Th\u2019 idea of a foe display,\n As you shall see\u2014\u2014 Away he flew,\n And, to the friends as near he drew,\n He smooth\u2019d his brow, he coin\u2019d a smile,\n And put on all the masks of guile.\n Then whispers one with friendly nod,\n \u201cMark, is not yon behaviour odd?\n The Bull must surely mean affront,\n His tail is next you\u2014fie upon\u2019t!\n How slighting that! and there\u2019s another\n Can scarce some high resentment smother;\n He snorts, he paws, and fain would shew\n By vengeance whence his troubles flow.\n The third, how dull! regardless still,\n What fate you prove, or good or ill.\u201d\n Appearance (treach\u2019rous witness) here\n Confirms the sounds that cheat his ear;\n Suspicion soon alarm\u2019d, and pride,\n At once, to self the whole apply\u2019d.\n The Bull withdraws, resolv\u2019d as due,\n They first for his return should sue.\n\n The Fox returns, and boasts his arts,\n And to his liege the truth imparts:\n \u201cThe Bull who turn\u2019d his tail so rude,\n Meant only not his ear t\u2019 intrude;\n And he that spurn\u2019d so fierce the ground\n With anguish felt a hornet wound.\n The third, the downy turf who prest,\n Sought but the sweets of peaceful rest.\n But come, to his remote retreat\n I\u2019ll guide my royal master\u2019s feet.\u201d\n They go; the victim mourns too late\n His absent friends and helpless state.\n And slain, the Fox exulting cries,\n \u201cNot one but all shall be our prize.\u201d\n\n Away he goes, and thus again\n Infus\u2019d soft flatt\u2019ry, deadly bane!\n \u201cGreat sir (says he to one), I swear\n Your friends are rude, indeed they are;\n Friendship a decent due respect\n Should, rather than destroy, protect.\n Superior far to these you rise,\n The wise affirm: we trust the wise;\n Your nobler port, your finer wit,\n All with united voice admit;\n And yet no just distinction\u2019s made\n No deference shewn, no homage paid.\n I wonder at your choice, but here\n \u2019Tis silence best becomes my sphere,\n Tho\u2019 might your slave presume to tell\n What all the forest thinks as well,\n These are perhaps the only Two\n With whom your worth would lose its due.\u201d\n\n The Bull (how easy praise deceives!)\n With pleasure hears, with pride believes;\n Puts on the lofty looks and airs\n Which humble merit never wears.\n To treat him as an equal now\n Inflames his heart, contracts his brow\n \u2019Tis envy, or, \u2019tis worse, \u2019tis hate,\n Denies due honour to his state;\n He could not bear th\u2019 affronts they gave,\n They break his peace, they make him rave;\n They lov\u2019d and they rever\u2019d, he thought,\n Less than the wretches knew they ought;\n And (as is usual) storm\u2019d and swore\n That they might love and rev\u2019rence more.\n His friends, alarm\u2019d, in deep amaze\n On him, and on each other, gaze,\n Disgust, in either\u2019s bosom bred,\n Was shewn as diff\u2019ring tempers led,\n One bold and warm the taunts returns,\n And with contagious anger burns,\n Than this, not plagues are sooner caught,\n Nor with more dreadful evils fraught,\n The other, meek, in secret pines,\n And friends he could not keep resigns;\n Resigns, tho\u2019 late, with yearning heart,\n And mourns persuasion\u2019s useless art.\n Retiring now he leaves the fray,\n The Fox still mark\u2019d his pensive way,\n The Lion found and seiz\u2019d his prize,\n And, like the first, the second dies.\n\n The two who yet alive remain,\n In dreadful conflict shake the plain;\n The Fox observes the doubtful fight,\n One drops\u2014he smiles with fell delight;\n Flies with the joyful news, and brings\n The King to take what\u2019s now the King\u2019s.\n Faint, breathless, bleeding on the ground,\n The hapless victor soon they found;\n He falls an unresisting prey,\n And crowns the triumphs of the day.\n\n This tale a sage once told his son,\n And thus apply\u2019d it when he\u2019d done:\u2014\n\n \u201cDo you, my child, with unsuspecting eye,\n O\u2019erlook what others labour to descry;\n Kind to all faults, and to all failings blind,\n Be you the last to think affronts design\u2019d.\n Cold seems thy friend?\u2014by the severest laws\n Thy conduct try, to find the latent cause.\n Let thy heart pant for universal praise,\n Such as, unbrib\u2019d, to virtue, virtue pays.\n Is this withheld? try ev\u2019ry winning art\n To melt the hard, to soothe the froward heart.\n Sue for esteem\u2014to all but fawning bend,\n Whom this will purchase is a worthless friend;\n But scorn the thought as vainest of the vain,\n That what good-nature loses, pride will gain.\n Less than your merit does your friend approve?\n Still merit more\u2014his love constrain with love.\n This conduct try\u2019d remains he still the same?\n Learn you to pity what the world will blame.\n The gen\u2019ral censure, his neglect ensures,\n Thy honour brightens and thy praise secures.\u201d\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXIII._\n\nThe Pepper-Box and Salt-Cellar.\n\n The \u2019squire had din\u2019d alone one day,\n And _Tom_ was call\u2019d to _take away_:\n _Tom_ clear\u2019d the board with dextrous art:\n But, willing to secure a tart,\n The liquorish youth had made an halt,\n And left the pepper-box and salt\n Alone upon the marble table:\n Who thus, like men, were heard to squabble.\n\n Pepper began, \u201cPray, sir,\u201d says he,\n \u201cWhat business have you here with me?\n Is\u2019t fit that spices of my birth\n Should rank with thee, thou scum of earth?\n I\u2019d have you know, sir, I\u2019ve a spirit\n Suited to my superior merit\u2014\n Tho\u2019 now, confin\u2019d within this caster,\n I serve a Northern Gothic master;\n Yet born in _Java\u2019s_ fragrant wood,\n To warm an Eastern monarch\u2019s blood,\n The sun those rich perfections gave me,\n Which tempted _Dutchmen_ to enslave me.\n\n \u201cNor are my virtues here unknown,\n Tho\u2019 old and wrinkled now I\u2019m grown.\n Black as I am, the fairest maid\n Invokes my stimulating aid,\n To give her food the poignant flavour,\n And, to each sauce, its proper savour.\n Pasties, ragouts, and fricassees,\n Without my seasoning, fail to please:\n \u2019Tis I, like wit, must give a zest,\n And sprightliness to ev\u2019ry feast.\n\n \u201cPhysicians too my use confess;\n My influence sagest matrons bless;\n When drams prove vain, and cholics teaze,\n To me they fly for certain ease.\n Nay, I fresh vigour can dispense,\n And cure ev\u2019n age and impotence:\n And when of dulness wits complain,\n I brace the nerves, and clear the brain.\n\n \u201cBut to the \u2019squire here, I appeal\u2014\n He knows my real value well:\n Who, with one pepper-corn content,\n Remits the vassal\u2019s annual rent\u2014\n Hence then, Sir Brine, and keep your distance,\n Go lend the scullion your assistance;\n For culinary uses fit,\n To salt the meat upon the spit;\n Or just to keep our meat from stinking\u2014\n And then\u2014a special friend to drinking!\u201d\n\n \u201cYour folly moves me with surprise,\u201d\n The silver tripod thus replies,\n \u201cPray, Master Pepper, why so hot?\n First cousin to the mustard-pot!\n What boots it how our life began?\n \u2019Tis breeding makes the Gentleman;\n Yet would you search my pedigree,\n I rose like Venus from the sea:\n The sun, whose influence you boast,\n Nurs\u2019d me upon the British coast.\n\n \u201cThe chymists know my rank and place,\n When nature\u2019s principles they trace:\n And wisest moderns yield to me\n The elemental monarchy.\n By me all nature is supply\u2019d\n With all her beauty, all her pride!\n In vegetation I ascend;\n To animals their vigour lend;\n Corruption\u2019s foe, I life preserve,\n And stimulate each slacken\u2019d nerve.\n I give jonquils their high perfume;\n The peach its flavour, rose its bloom:\n Nay, I\u2019m the cause, when rightly trac\u2019d,\n Of Pepper\u2019s aromatic taste.\n\n \u201cSuch claims you teach me to produce;\n But need I plead my obvious use,\n In seasoning all terrestrial food;\n When heaven declares, that Salt is good.\n\n \u201cGrant then, some few thy virtues find;\n Yet Salt gives health to all mankind:\n Physicians sure will side with me,\n While cooks alone shall plead for thee:\n In short, with all thine airs about thee,\n The world were happier far without thee.\u201d\n\n The \u2019squire, who all this time sat mute,\n Now put an end to their dispute:\n He rung the bell\u2014bade Tom convey\n The doughty disputants away\u2014\n\n The Salt, refresh\u2019d by shaking up,\n At night did with his master sup:\n The Pepper, Tom assign\u2019d his lot\n With vinegar, and mustard pot:\n A fop with bites and sharpers join\u2019d,\n And, to the side-board, well confin\u2019d.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXIV._\n\nThe Sheep and the Bramble-Bush.\n\n A thick-twisted brake in the time of a storm,\n Seem\u2019d kindly to cover a sheep:\n So snug, for a while, he lay shelter\u2019d and warm.\n It quietly sooth\u2019d him asleep.\n\n The clouds are now scatter\u2019d\u2014the winds are at peace,\n The sheep\u2019s to his pasture inclin\u2019d;\n But ah! the fell thicket lays hold of his fleece,\n His coat is left forfeit behind.\n\n My friend, who the thicket of law never tried,\n Consider before you get in;\n Tho\u2019 judgment and sentence are pass\u2019d on your side,\n By Jove, you\u2019ll be fleec\u2019d to your skin.\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXV._\n\nThe Blackbird and Bullfinch.\n\n Perch\u2019d on a poplar\u2019s verdant spray,\n A Blackbird sung the hours away;\n Charm\u2019d all around, and seem\u2019d to call\n On echo from his Lordship\u2019s hall.\n Confin\u2019d in state a Bullfinch there,\n The melting music chanc\u2019d to hear\u2014\n Bursting with envy, silence broke,\n And thus from gilded cage he spoke:\u2014\n\n \u201cCease, bungler, thy discordant noise,\n Untun\u2019d thy throat, and harsh thy voice;\n How dar\u2019st thou, vagrant, as thou art,\n To me thy dissonance impart?\n Know\u2019st thou I sing by studied rules,\n And brag the learning of the schools?\n Soft rapture to the heart convey,\n And charm the list\u2019ning soul away?\n To please my Lord, and soothe his cares,\n I warble soft Italian airs;\n Which he in gratitude repays\n With costly food, and gen\u2019rous praise:\n Whilst thou, condemn\u2019d through air to rove,\n Or hide thee in the gloomy grove,\n To feebly suck thy beverage scant,\n And pine in endless care and want;\n To rocks and woods thy tale belongs,\n Fit audience for thy stupid songs!\n Away! no more my palace dun,\n Or Dick, or Tom, shall fetch the gun.\u201d\n\n He ceas\u2019d\u2014The fable bird returns\n (With rising scorn his bosom burns),\n \u201cThou little lordling, void of sense,\n Dar\u2019st thou, imperious, warn me hence?\n Know, parasite, thy threats are nought,\n Nor boast thy cage too dearly bought:\n Above the frigid rules of art,\n \u2019Tis nature\u2019s dictates I impart;\n Nor ever prostitute my lays,\n But grateful sing my Maker\u2019s praise;\n Whilst echoing o\u2019er the hills and plains,\n I cheer the nymphs and lab\u2019ring swains;\n Whether the rising notes I swell,\n Or lightly load the passing gale;\n With bolder music fill the grove,\n Or gently call my mate to love:\n Whether the joys of summer sing,\n Or chant the beauties of the spring;\n The varied notes still new appear,\n And sweet transition charms the ear:\n Whilst thou, puff\u2019d up with self-conceit,\n And idle thoughts of being great,\n Nor freedom canst thyself allow,\n Nor give to others what is due;\n But pedant-like, in pride, elate\n (With notions, as thy prison, strait),\n Think\u2019st thou alone can urge the strain,\n Thy boasted learning then, how vain!\n Attend this truth, and know for once,\n That _learning ne\u2019er unmade the dunce_.\u201d\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n_FABLE XXVI._\n\nThe Conceited Fly.\n\n \u2019Twas in the charming month of May\n (No matter, critics, for the day),\n When PH\u0152BUS had his noon attain\u2019d,\n And in his blaze of glory reign\u2019d;\n A FLY as gay as e\u2019er was seen,\n Clad o\u2019er in azure, jet, and green;\n Gay, for his part, as birthday beau,\n Whose soul is vanish\u2019d into show;\n On PAUL\u2019S famed temple chanc\u2019d to light,\n To ease his long laborious flight:\n There, as his optics gaz\u2019d around\n (An inch or two their utmost bound),\n He thus began:\u2014\u201cMen vainly tell\n How they in works of skill excel:\n This edifice they proudly show\n To prove what human art can do;\n \u2019Tis all a cheat\u2014before my eyes\n What infinite disorders rise!\n HERE hideous cavities appear,\n And broken precipices THERE:\n They never us\u2019d the plane or line,\n But jumbled heaps without design.\u201d\n\n He ceas\u2019d contemptuous;\u2014and as FLIES\n Discern with microscopic eyes,\n From what he saw he reason\u2019d right,\n But how inadequate the sight!\n To mark the building from its base,\n The pillar\u2019d pomp, the sculptur\u2019d grace,\n The dome, the cross, the golden ball,\n Much less the grand result of all!\n\n So impious WITS, with proud disdain,\n REDEMPTION\u2019S hidden ways arraign,\n Deem it beneath a BEING wise,\n And, judging with their insect eyes,\n View but a part, and then deny\n Th\u2019 ETERNAL WISDOM of the sky.\n But can thy ken, presumptuous man,\n Unfold this deep and wondrous plan?\n As well might insect organs see\n Th\u2019 harmonious structure rais\u2019d by thee,\n As thine imperfect tube explore\n This wise and gracious system o\u2019er.\n\n\n_FINIS._\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES\n\n\n[1] An impression is given in \u201cJackson,\u201d at page 477 (Edition 1861,\nBohn). See also next page.\n\n[2] Suidas.\n\n[3] Alsop.\n\n[4] Philostratus.\n\n[5] Pliny.\n\n[6] Priscian.\n\n[7] Institut. Orat. i. c. 9.\n\n[8] De Repub. Lib. ii.\n\n[9] This alludes to the well-known Fable of _The Fox and the Grapes_,\nwhich, however absurd it may appear in this part of the world, is not so\nin the East, for Dr Hasselquist, in his Travels, p. 184, observes, that\n\u201cthe Fox is an animal common in _Palestine_, and that there is plenty\nof them near the convent of St John in the Desert about vintage time;\nand they destroy all the vines unless they are strictly watched.\u201d To the\nsame effect _Solomon_ saith in the _Canticles_, ii. 15, \u201c_Take us the\nFoxes, the little Foxes that spoil the vines: for our vines have tender\ngrapes._\u201d Therefore this ancient Apologue is very properly restored,\nwithout prejudice to nature or common sense.\n\n[10] The Lion.\n\n\n\n\nTHE INDEX.\n\n PAGE\n\n PART I.\n\n _Ass and his Master_ 25\n _Ant and Caterpillar_ 52\n _Bee and the Fly_ 11\n _Bear and the Bees_ 31\n _Bear and Two Friends_ 33\n _Belly and the Limbs_ 37\n _Beggar and his Dog_ 61\n _Blind Man and Lame_ 47\n _Boy and the Nettle_ 60\n _Butterfly and the Rose_ 4\n _Clock and the Dial_ 5\n _Country Maid and the Milk-Pail_ 8\n _Daw with borrowed Feathers_ 40\n _Dog and the Crocodile_ 23\n _Eagle and the Crow_ 27\n _Eagle and the Owl_ 43\n _Fortune and School-boy_ 36\n _Fox and the Bramble_ 3\n _Fox and the Stork_ 63\n _Genius, Virtue, and Reputation_ 15\n _Hermit and the Bear_ 18\n _Huron and Frenchman_ 12\n _Industry and Sloth_ 16\n _Jupiter\u2019s Lottery_ 54\n _Lion and the Gnat_ 22\n _Lion, Bear, Monkey, and Fox_ 48\n _Lion and the Ass_ 29\n _Lion, Tiger, and Fox_ 28\n _Miller, his Son, and Ass_ 1\n _Mock-bird_ 51\n _Oak and the Willow_ 32\n _Partial Judge_ 20\n _Passenger and Pilot_ 19\n _Sick Lion, Fox, and Wolf_ 45\n _Snipe Shooter_ 56\n _Spider and Silkworm_ 10\n _Sun and the Wind_ 59\n _Tortoise and Two Crows_ 7\n _Trees and the Bramble_ 65\n _Trumpeter_ 30\n _Two Horses_ 49\n _Two Dogs_ 57\n _Trouts and Gudgeon_ 58\n _Two Lizards_ 53\n _Wasps and the Bees_ 35\n _Wolf in Disguise_ 24\n _Wolf and the Lamb_ 39\n _Wolf and Shepherds_ 42\n\n PART II.\n\n _Age to be Honoured_ 164\n _Ant and Fly_ 79\n _Ants and Grasshopper_ 130\n _Ass, Ape, and Mole_ 76\n _Bald Cavalier_ 132\n _Boar and Fox_ 140\n _Boy and False Alarms_ 91\n _Boy and his Mother_ 218\n _Brother and Sister_ 172\n _Cat and Fox_ 201\n _City Mouse and Country Mouse_ 69\n _Cock and the Jewel_ 67\n _Cock and Fox_ 161\n _Collier and Fuller_ 216\n _Countryman and Snake_ 100\n _Countryman and Ass_ 148\n _Crow and Pitcher_ 180\n _Discontented Ass_ 142\n _Dog and the Shadow_ 87\n _Dog, Cock, and Fox_ 128\n _Dog and Cat_ 134\n _Dog and Sheep_ 209\n _Dog and Bee_ 214\n _Eagle, Cat, and Sow_ 158\n _Father and his Sons_ 93\n _Fir and Bramble_ 106\n _Fox and the Crow_ 73\n _Fox and Countryman_ 109\n _Fox and Ass_ 138\n _Fox and Ape_ 153\n _Fox and Grapes_ 182\n _Fox that had lost his Tail_ 117\n _Gnat and Bee_ 102\n _Hares and the Frogs_ 76\n _Hercules and Carter_ 192\n _Horse and Ass_ 82\n _Husbandman and Stork_ 85\n _Impertinent and Philosopher_ 136\n _Joy and Sorrow_ 150\n _Jupiter and Herdsman_ 224\n _Mercury and Woodman_ 104\n _Mice in Council_ 175\n _Mountains in Labour_ 186\n _Old Man and Death_ 177\n _Old Hound_ 204\n _One-eyed Stag_ 111\n _Peacock and Crane_ 89\n _Proud Frog_ 211\n _Satyr and Traveller_ 155\n _Seamen Praying to Saints_ 115\n _Sick Father and Children_ 95\n _Sick Kite_ 195\n _Scoffer Punished_ 120\n _Shepherd and Young Wolf_ 119\n _Sparrow and Hare_ 199\n _Splenetic Traveller_ 166\n _Stag looking into the Water_ 97\n _Swan and Stork_ 123\n _Swallow and Spider_ 126\n _Thief and Dog_ 190\n _There\u2019s no To-morrow_ 226\n _Two Frogs_ 188\n _Two Pots_ 197\n _Two Young Men and Cook_ 206\n _Undutiful Young Lion_ 146\n _Viper and File_ 184\n _Wanton Calf_ 221\n _Young Man and Swallow_ 169\n\n PART III.\n\n _Angler and Philosopher_ 276\n _Ant and Grasshopper_ 231\n _Bears and Bees_ 269\n _Beau and Butterfly_ 267\n _Blackbird and Bullfinch_ 304\n _Butterfly and Boy_ 239\n _Camelion_ 250\n _Caterpillar and Butterfly_ 257\n _Cuckoo Traveller_ 229\n _Four Bulls_ 293\n _Conceited Fly_ 306\n _Goat and Fox_ 284\n _Hounds in Couples_ 241\n _King-Dove_ 247\n _Kite and Nightingale_ 290\n _Lion and other Beasts in Council_ 278\n _Pepper-box and Salt-cellar_ 299\n _Philosopher and Glow-worm_ 274\n _Sheep and Bramble-bush_ 303\n _Sow and Peacock_ 244\n _The Nightingale_ 235\n _Two Foxes_ 237\n _Three Warnings_ 253\n _Trees_ 271\n _Two Doves_ 263\n _Wolf and Dog_ 233\n\nPRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY\n\nEDINBURGH AND LONDON","title":"Bewick's Select Fables of \u00c6sop and others.: In three parts. 1. Fables extracted from Dodsley's. 2. Fables with reflections in prose and verse. 3. Fables in verse.","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":61081}