As one of these, in days of yore, Rummag'd a shop of learning o'er, Not, like our modern dealers, minding Only the margin's breadth and binding, A book his curious eye detains, Where, with exactest care and pains, Were every beast and bird pourtray'd, That e'er the search of man survey'd ; Their natures and their powers were writ With all the pride of human wit The page he with attention spread, And thus remark'd on what he read: "Man with strong reason is endow'd ; · A beast scarce instinct is allow'd: But, let this author's worth be try'd, 'Tis plain that neither was his guide. Can he discern the different natures, And weigh the power of other creatures, Who by the partial work hath shown He knows so little of his own? How falsely is the spaniel drawn !

Did man from him first learn to fawn?

A dog proficient in the trade!

He the chief flatterer Nature made!
Go, man! the ways of courts discern,
You'll find a spaniel still might learn.
How can the fox's theft and plunder
Provoke his censure or his wonder?
From courtiers' tricks and lawyers' arts,
The fox might well improve his parts.
The lion, wolf, and tiger's brood,
He curses, for their thirst of blood.
But is not man to man a prey?
Beasts kill for hunger, men for pay."
The Bookseller, who heard him speak,
And saw him turn a page of Greek,
Thought, "What a genius have I found!"
Then thus address'd with bow profound:
"Learn'd sir, if you'd employ your pen
Against the senseless sons of men,

Or write the history of Siam;
No man is better pay than I am.

Or, since you're learn'd in Greek, let's see
Something against the Trinity."

When wrinkling with a sneer his trunk,

Friend," quoth the Elephant, "you're drunk : F'en keep your money, and be wise;

Leave man on man to criticise:
For that you ne'er can want a pen
Among the senseless sons of men.
They, unprovok'd, will court the fray;
Envy's a sharper spur than pay.
No author ever spar'd a brother:
Wits are gamecocks to one another."

FABLE XI.

THE PEACOCK, THE TURKEY, AND THE GOOSE.

Is beauty faults conspicuous grow;
The smallest speck is seen on snow.
As near a barn, by hunger led,
A Peacock with the poultry fed,
All view'd him with an envious eye,
And muck'd his gaudy pageantry.
He, conscious of superior merit,
Contemns their base reviling spirit;
His state and dignity assumes,
And to the Sun displays his plumes,
VOL X

Which, like the Heavens' o'er-arching skies,
Are spangled with a thousand eyes.
The circling rays, and varied light,
At once confound their dazzled sight;
On every tongue detraction burns,
And malice prompts their spleen by turns.
"Mark with what insoleuce and pride
The creature takes his haughty stride!"
The Turkey cries. "Can spleen contain?
Sure never bird was half so vain!
But, were intrinsic merit seen,
We Turkeys have the whiter skin."

From tongue to tongue they caught abuse;
And next was heard the hissing Goose:
"What hideous legs! what filthy claws!
I scorn to censure little flaws.

Then what a horrid squalling throat!

Ev'n owls are frighted at the note."

"True: those are faults," the Peacock cries; My scream, my shanks, you may despise; But such blind critics rail in vain.

What! overlook my radiant train!

Know, did my legs (your scorn and sport)

The Turkey or the Goose support,

And did ye scream with harsher sound,
Those faults in you had ne'er been found:
To all apparent beauties blind,

Each blemish strikes an envious mind."
Thus in assemblies have I scen

A nymph, of brightest charms and mien,
Wake envy in each ugly face,

And buzzing scandal fills the place.

FABLE XII.

GUPID, HYMEN, AND PLUTUS

As Cupid in Cythera's grove Employ'd the lesser powers of Love, Some shape the bow, or fit the string, Some give the taper shaft its wing, Or turn the polish'd quiver's mould, Or head the darts with temper'd gold. Amidst their toil and various care, Thus Hymen, with assuming air, Address'd the god: "Thou purblind chit, Of awkward and ill-judging wit, If matches are not better made, At once I must forswear my trade. You send me such ill-coupled folks, That 'tis a shame to sell them yokes. They squabble for a pin, a feather, And wonder how they came together. The husband's sullen, dogged, shy, The wife grows flippant in reply: He loves command and due restriction; And she as well likes contradiction: She never slavishly submits; She'll have her will, or have her fits. He this way tugs, she th' other draws; The man grows jealous, and with cause. Nothing can save him but divorce; And here the wife complies of course." "When," says the boy, "had I to do With either your affairs or you? I never idly spend my darts; You trade in mercenary hearts. For settlements the lawyer's feed; Is my hand witness to the deed?

LI

If they like eat and dog agree, Go rail at Plutus, not at me."

Plutus appear'd, and said, ""Tis true,
In marriage, gold is all their view;
They seek not beauty, wit, or sense,
And love is seldom the pretence.
All offer incense at my shrine,
And I alone the bargain sign.

How can Belinda blame her fate?
She only ask'd a great estate.
Doris was rich enough, 'tis true;
Her lord must give her title ton:
And every man, or rich or poor,
A fortune asks, and asks no more."
Avarice, whatever shape it bears,
Must still be coupled with its cares.

FABLE XIII.

THE TAME STAG.

As a young Stag the thicket past,
The branches held his antlers fast.
A clown, who saw the captive hung,
Across the horns his halter flung.

Now safely hamper'd in the cord,
He bore the present to his lord.
His lord was pleas'd; as was the clown,
When he was tipp'd with half-a-crown.
The Stag was brought before his wife;
The tender lady begg'd his life.

How sleek's the skin! how speck'd like ermine !
Sure never creature was so charming!

At first within the yard confin'd,
He flies and hides from all mankind;
Now bolder grown, with fix'd amaze,
And distant awe, presumes to gaze;
Munches the linen on the lines,
And on a hood or apron dines:
He steals my little master's bread,
Follows the servants to be fed :
Nearer and nearer now he stands,
To feel the praise of patting hands;
Examines every fist for meat,
And, though repuls'd, disdains retreat;
Attacks again with levell'd horns,
And man, that was his terrour, scorns.
Such is the country maiden's fright,
When first a redcoat is in sight;
Behind the door she hides her face,
Next time at distance eyes the lace:
She now can all his terrours stand,
Nor from his squeeze withdraws her hand.
She plays familiar in his arms,
And every soldier hath his charms.

From tent to tent she spreads her flame;
For custom conquers fear and shame.

So forth he fares, all toil defies:
Misfortune serves to make us wise.

At length the treacherous snare was laid
Poor Pug was caught; to town convey'd;
There sold. (How envy'd was his doom,
Made captive in a lady's room!)
Proud, as a lover, of his chains,
He day by day her favour gains.
Whene'er the duty of the day
The toilette calls, with mimic play
He twirls her knots, he cracks her fan,
Like any other gentleman.

In visits, too, his parts and wit,
When jests grew dull, were sure to nit.
Proud with applause, he thought his mind
In every courtly art refin'd;

Like Orpheus, burnt with public zeal,
To civilize the Monkey-weal;

So watch'd occasion, broke his chain,
And sought his native woods again.

The hairy Sylvans round him press,
Astonish'd at his strut and dress.
Some praise his sleeve, and others glote
Upon his rich embroider'd coat,
His dapper perriwig commending,
With the black tail behind depending;
His powder'd back, above, below,
Like hoary frosts, or fleecy snow;
But all, with envy and desire,
His fluttering shoulder-knot admire.

"Hear and improve," he pertly cries;
"I come to make a nation wise.
Weigh your own worth; support your place,
The next in rank to human race.

In cities long I pass'd my days,

Convers'd with men, and learn'd their ways
Their dress, their courtly manners, see;
Reform your state, and copy me.
Seek ye to thrive? In flattery deal;
Your scorn, your hate, with that conceal.
Seem only to regard your friends,
But use them for your private ends.
Stint not to truth the flow of wit;
Be prompt to lie whene'er 'tis fit.
Bend all your force to spatter merit;
Scandal is conversation's spirit.
Boldly to every thing pretend,
And men your talents shall commend.
I knew the great. Observe me right;
So shall you grow, like man, polite."

He spoke, and bow'd. With muttering jaws The wondering circle grinn'd applause.

Now, warm'd with malice, envy, spite,
Their most obliging friends they bite;
And, fond to copy human ways,
Practise new mischiefs all their days.

Thus the dull lad, too tall for school,
With travel finishes the fool,
Studious of every coxcomb's airs,

He drinks, games, dresses, whores, and swears;
O'erlooks with scorn all virtuous arts,
For vice is fitted to his parts.

FABLE XIV.

THE MONKEY WHO HAD SEEN THE WORLD,

A MONKEY, to reform the times, Resolv'd to visit foreign climes; For men in distant regions roam, To bring politer manners home.

FABLE XV.

THE PHILOSOPHER AND THE PHEASANTS.

THE Sage, awak'd at early day, Through the deep forest took his way;

She now of this or that inquires,

Drawn by the music of the groves,
Along the winding gloom he roves :
From tree to tree the warbling throats
Prolong the sweet alternate notes;
But, where he past, he terrour threw,
The song broke short, the warblers flew ;
The thrushes chatter'd with affright,
And nightingales abhorr'd his sight;
All animals before him ran,
To shun the hateful sight of man.

"Whence is this dread of every creature? Fly they our figure, or our nature!"

As thus he walk'd in musing thought,
His car imperfect accents caught;
With cautious step he nearer drew,
By the thick shade conceal'd from view.
High on the branch a Pheasant stood,
Around her all her listening brood;
Proud of the blessings of her nest,
She thus a mother's care express'd:

No dangers here shall circumvent,
Within the woods enjoy content.
Sooner the hawk or vulture trust
Than man, of animals the worst.
In him ingratitude you find,
A vice peculiar to the kind.

The sheep, whose annual fleece is dy'd

To guard his health, and serve his pride,
Forc'd from his fold and native plain,
Is in the cruel shambles slain.
The swarms, who with industrious skill,
His hives with wax and honey fill,
In vain whole summer-days employ'd,
Their stores are sold, the race destroy'd.
What tribute from the goose is paid!
Does not her wing allience aid?
Does it not lovers' hearts explain,

And drudge to raise the merchant's gain?
What now rewards this general use?
He takes the quills, and eats the goose.
Man then avoid, detest his ways,
So safety shall prolong your days.
When services are thus acquitted,

Be sure we Pheasants must be spitted."

FABLE XVI.

THE PIN AND THE NEEDLE.

A PIN, who long had serv'd a beauty, Proficient in the toilette's duty, Had form'd her sleeve, confin'd her hair, Or given her knot a smarter air, Now nearest to her heart was plac'd, Now in her manteau's tail disgrac'd : But could she partial Fortune blame, Who saw her lovers serv'd the same?

At length from all her honours cast, Through various turns of life she past; Now glitter'd on a taylor's arm, Now kept a beggar's infant warm; Now, rang'd within a miser's coat, Contributes to his yearly groat; Now, rais'd again from low approach, She visits in the doctor's coach: Here, there, by various fortune tost, At last in Gresham-hall was lost. Charm'd with the wonders of the show, On every side, above, below,

What least was understood admires.

'Tis plain, each thing so struck her mind, Her head's of virtuoso kind.

"And pray what's this, and this, dear sir?” "A Needle," says th' interpreter.

She knew the name; and thus the fool
Address'd her as a tailor's tool.

"A Needle with that filthy stone,
Quite idle, all with rust o'ergrown!
You better might employ your parts,
And aid the sempstress in her arts;
But tell me how the friendship grew
Between that paltry flint and you."
Friend," says the Needle,

cease to blame;

I follow real worth and fame.
Know'st thou the loadstone's power and art,
That virtue virtues can impart ?

Of all his talents I partake:

Who then can such a friend forsake?
'Tis I direct the pilot's hand

To shun the rocks and treacherous sand:
By me the distant world is known,

And either India is our own.
Had I with milliners been bred,

What had I been? the guide of thread,
And drudg'd as vulgar Needles do,

Of no more consequence than you."

FABLE XVII.

THE SHEPHERD'S DOG AND THE WOLE.

A WOLF, with hunger fierce and bold,
Ravag'd the plains, and thinn'd the fold;
Deep in the wood secure he lay,

The thefts of night regal'd the day.
In vain the shepherd's wakeful care

Had spread the toils, and watch'd the snare ;
In vain the Dog pursued his pace,
The fleeter robber mock'd the chase.

As Lightfoot rang'd the forest round,
By chance his foe's retreat he found.
"Let us a while the war suspend,
And reason as from friend to friend."
"A truce?" replies the Wolf. "Tis done.
The Dog the parley thus begun.

"How can that strong intrepid mind
Attack a weak defenceless kind?
Those jaws should prey on nobler food,
And drink the boar's and lion's blood.
Great souls with generous pity melt,
Which coward tyrants never felt.
How harmless is our fleecy care!
Be brave, and let thy mercy spare.

"Friend," says the Wolf," the matter weigh;
Nature design'd us beasts of prey;
As such, when hunger finds a treat,
'Tis necessary Wolves should eat.
If, mindful of the bleating weal,
Thy bosom burn with real zeal,
Hence, and thy tyrant lord beseech;
To him repeat the moving speech:
A Wolf eats sheep but now and then,
Ten thousands are devour'd by men.
An open foe may prove a curse,
But a pretended friend is worse."

FABLE XVIII.

THE PAINTER WHO PLEASED NOBODY AND EVERY BODY.

LEST men suspect your tale untrue,
Keep probability in view.

The traveller leaping o'er those bounds,
The credit of his book confounds.

Who with his tongue hath armies routed,
Makes even his real courage doubted.
But flattery never seems absurd;
The flatter'd always take your word:
Impossibilities seem just;

They take the strongest praise on trust.
Hyperboles, though ne'er so great,
Will still come short of self-conceita

So very like a Painter drew,
That every eye the picture knew;
He hit complexion, feature, air,
So just, the life itself was there.
No flattery with his colours laid,
To bloom restor'd the faded maid;
He gave each muscle all its strength;
The mouth, the chin, the nose's length;
His honest pencil touch'd with truth,
And mark'd the date of age and youth.
He lost his friends, his practice fail'd:
Truth should not always be reveal'd:
In dusty piles his pictures lay,
For no one sent the second pay.
Two bustos, fraught with every grace,
A Venus' and Apollo's face,

He plac'd in view; resolv'd to please,
Whoever sat he drew from these,
From these corrected every feature,
And spirited each awkward creature.
All things were set; the hour was come,
His palette ready o'er his thunb.
My lord appear'd; and seated right,
In proper attitude and light,

The Painter look'd, he sketch'd the piece,
Then dipt his pencil, talk'd of Greece,
Of Titian's tints, of Guido's air;
"Those eyes, my lord, the spirit there
Might well a Raphael's hand require,
To give them all the native fire;
The features, fraught with sense and wit,
You'll grant, are very hard to hit ;
But yet with patience you shall view
As much as paint and art can do."

Observe the work. My lord replied,
"Till now I thought my mouth was wide;
Besides my nose is somewhat long:
Dear sir, for me, 'tis far too young."
"Oh! pardon me," the artist cry'd;
"In this we Painters must decide.
The piece ev'n common eyes must strike,
I warrant it extremely like."

My lord examin'd it a-new;
No looking-glass seem'd half so true.

A lady came with borrow'd grace,
He from his Venus form'd her face.
Her lover prais'd the Painter's art;
So like the picture in his heart!
To every age some charm he lent;
Ev'n beauties were almost content.

Through all the town his art they prais'd;
His custom grew, his price was rais'd.
Had he the real likeness shown,
Would any man the picture own?

But, when thus happily he wrought, Each found the likeness in his thought.

FABLE XIX.

THE LLON AND THE CUB

How fond are men of rule and place,
Who court it from the mean and base!
These cannot bear an equal nigh,
But from superior merit fly.

They love the cellar's vulgar joke,

And lose their hours in ale and smoke.
There o'er some petty club preside;
So poor, so paltry, is their pride!

Nay, ev'n with fools whole nights will sit,
In hopes to be supreme in wit.

If these can read, to these I write,
To set their worth in truest light.

A Lion-cub, of sordid mind,
Avoided all the Lion kind;

Fond of applause he sought the feasts,
Of vulgar and ignoble beasts;

With asses all his time he spent,
Their club's perpetual president.

He caught their manners, looks, and airs;
An ass in every thing but ears!

If e'er his highness meant a joke,
They grinn'd applause before he spoke ;
But at each word what shouts of praise!
"Good gods! how natural he brays!"

Elate with flattery and conceit,

He seeks his royal sire's retreat;
Forward and fond to show his parts,
His highness brays; the Lin starts.
"Puppy! that curs'd vociferation
Betrays thy life and conversation:
Coxcombs, an ever-noisy race,
Are trumpets of their own disgrace."
"Why so severe ?" the Cub replies;
"Our senate always held me wise."

"How weak is pride!" returns the sirea "All fools are vain when fools admire! But know, what stupid asses prize, Lions and noble beasts despise."

FABLE XX.

THE OLD HEN AND THE COCK.

RESTRAIN your child; you'll soon believe The text which says, we sprung from Eve. As an old Hen led forth her train, And seem'd to peck to show the grain, She rak'd the chaff, she scratch'd the ground, And glean'd the spacious yard around.

A giddy chick, to try her wings,

On the well's narrow margin springs,

And prone she drops. The mother's breast

All day with sorrow was possest.

A Cock she met; her son she knew; And in her heart affection grew.

My son," says she,

I grant your years

Have reach'd beyond a mother's cares.
I see you vigorous, strong, and bold;
I hear with joy your triumphs told.
"Tis not from Cocks thy fate I dread;
But let thy ever-wary tread

Avoid yon well; that fatal place
Is sure perdition to our race.
Print this my counsel on thy breast:
To the just gods I leave the rest.”

He thank'd her care; yet day by day His bosom burn'd to disobey; And every time the well he saw, Scorn'd in his heart the foolish law : Near and more near each day he drew, And long'd to try the dangerous view.

66

Why was this idle charge?" he cries ; "Let courage female fears despise. Or did she doubt my heart was brave,, And therefore this injunction gave? Or does her harvest store the place A treasure for her younger race? And would she thus my search prevent? I stand resolv'd, and dare th' event."

Thus said, he mounts the margin's round, And pries into the depth profound. He stretch'd his neck; and from below, With stretching neck, advanc'd a foe: With wrath his muffled plumes he rears, The foe with ruffled plumes appears: Threat answer'd threat; his fury grew; Headlong to meet the war he flew; But, when the watery death he found, He thus lamented as he drown'd:

"I ne'er had been in this condition, But for my mother's prohibition."

FABLE XXI.

THE RAT-CATCHER AND CATS.

THE Rats by night such mischief did,
Betty was every morning chid:
They undermin'd whole sides of bacon,

Her cheese was sapp'd, her tarts were taken;
Her pasties, fenc'd with thickest paste,
Were all demolish'd and laid waste:
She curs'd the Cat, for want of duty,

Who left her foes a constant booty.
An engineer, of noted skill,

Engag'd to stop the growing ill.

From room to room he new surveys

Their haunts, their works, their secret ways;
Finds where they 'scape an ambuscade,
And whence the nightly sally's made.

An envious Cat from place to place,
Unseen, attends his silent pace:
She saw that, if his trade went on,
The purring race must be undone ;
So secretly removes his baits,
And every stratagem defeats.

Again he sets the poison'd toils;
And Puss again the labour foils.

"What foe (to frustrate my designs) My schemes thus nightly countermines?" Incens'd, he cries, "this very hour The wretch shall bleed beneath my power." So said, a ponderous trap he brought, And in the fact poor Puss was caught. "Smuggler," says he," thou shalt be made

A victim to our loss of trade."

The captive Cat, with piteous mews, For pardon, life, and freedom sucs.

"A sister of the science spare ;

Qne interest is our common care.”

"What insolence!" the man reply'd ;

Shall Cats with us the game divide? Were all your interloping band Extinguish'd, or expell'd the land, We Rat-catchers might raise our fees, Sole guardians of a nation's cheese!" A Cat, who saw the lifted knife, Thus spoke, and sav'd her sister's life. "In every age and clime, we see, Two of a trade can ne'er agree. Each hates his neighbour for encroaching: 'Squire stigmatizes 'squire for poaching; Beauties with beauties are in arms, And scandal pelts each other's charms; Kings, too, their neighbour kings dethrone, In hope to make the world their own: But let us limit our desires, Not war like beauties, kings, and 'squires; For though we both one prey pursue, There's game enough for us and you."

FABLE XXIL

THE GOAT WITHOUT A BEARD

"Tis certain that the modish passions
Descend among the crowd like fashions.
Excuse me, then, if pride, conceit.
(The manners of the fair and great)
I give to monkeys, asses, dogs,
Fleas, owls, goats, butterflies, and hogs,
I say that these are proud: what then!
I never said they equal men.

A Goat (as vain as Goat can be)
Affected singularity:

Whene'er a thymy bank he found,
He roll'd upon the fragrant ground,
And then with fond attention stood,
Fix'd o'er his image in the flood.

"I hate my frowzy beard," he cries,
My youth is lost in this disguise.
Did not the females know my vigour,
Well might they loath this reverend figure."
Resolv'd to smooth his shaggy face,
He sought the barber of the place.
A flippant monkey, spruce and smart,
Hard by, profess'd the dapper art:
His pole with pewter-basons hung,
Black rotten teeth in order strung,
Rang'd cups, that in the window stood,
Lin'd with red rags to look like blood;
Did well his threefold trade explain,

Who shav'd, drew teeth, and breath'd a vein.
The Goat he welcomes with an air,

And seats him in his wooden chair:
Mouth, nose, and cheek, the lather hides:
Light, smooth, and swift, the razor glides.
"I hope your custom, sir," says Pug.
"Sure never face was half so smug!"

The Goat, impatient for applause,
Swift to the neighbouring hill withdraws.
The shaggy people grinn'd and star'd.

Heigh-day! what's here? without a beard! Say, brother, whence the dire disgrace? What envious hand hath robb'd your face?" When thus the fop, with smiles of scorn, "Are beards by civil nations worn? Ev'n Muscovites have mow'd their chins Shall we, like formal Capuchius,