The scaly people of the main,
The beasts that range the wood or plain,
The wing'd inhabitants of air,

The day, the night, the various year;
And know all these by Heaven design'd
As gifts to pleasure human-kind;
I cannot raise my worth too high;
Of what vast consequence am I !"
"Not of th' importance you suppose,"
Replies a Flea upon his nose.
"Be humble, learn thyself to scan;
Know, pride was never made for man.
'Tis vanity that swells thy mind.

What! Heaven and Earth for thee design'd!
For thee, made only for our need,
That more important Fleas might feed."

The Sheep was feeble, and complain'd, His sides a load of wool sustain'd; Said, he was slow, confess'd his fears; For Hounds eat Sheep as well as Hares. She now the trotting Calf address'd, To save from death a friend distress'd. "Shall I," says he, "of tender age, In this important care engage? Older and abler pass'd you by ; How strong are those! how weak am I! Should I presume to bear you hence, Those friends of mine may take offence. Excuse me, then; you know my heart; But dearest friends, alas! must part. How shall we all lament! Adieu; For see, the Hounds are just in view."

FABLE L

THE HARE AND MANY FRIENDS.

FRIENDSHIP, like love, is but a name, Unless to one you stint the flame.

The child, whom many fathers share,
Hath seldom known a father's care.
'Tis thus in friendships; who depend
On many, rarely find a friend.

A Hare who, in a civil way,
Comply'd with every thing, like Gay,
Was known by all the bestial train

Who haunt the wood, or graze the plain;
Her care was never to offend;
And every creature was her friend.

As forth she went at early dawn,
To taste the dew-besprinkled lawn,
Behind she hears the hunter's cries,
And from the deep-mouth'd thunder flies.
She starts, she stops, she pants for breath;
She hears the near advance of death;
She doubles, to mislead the hound,
And measures back her mazy round;
Till, fainting in the public way,
Half-dead with fear she gasping lay.

What transport in her bosom grew,
When first the Horse appear'd in view!
"Let me," says she, "your back ascend,
And owe my safety to a friend.
You know my feet betray my flight:
To friendship every burthen's light."
The Horse reply'd, Poor honest Puss,
It grieves my heart to see thee thus:
Be comforted, relief is near,
For all your friends are in the rear."
She next the stately Bull implor'd ;'
And thus reply'd the mighty lord:
"Since every beast alive can tell
That I sincerely wish you well,
I may, without offence, pretend
To take the freedom of a friend.

Love calls me hence; a favourite cow
Expects me near yon barley mow ;
And, when a lady's in the case,
You know, all other things give place.
To leave you thus might seem unkind;
But see, the Goat is just behind."

The Goat remark'd, her pulse was high,
Her languid head, her heavy eye:
"My back," says he, may do you harm;
The Sheep's at hand, and wool is warma."

66

FABLES.

PART THE SECOND.

ADVERTISEMENT.

THESE Fables were finished by Mr. Gay, and intended for the press a short time before his death, when they were left, with his other papers, to the care of his noble friend and patron the duke of Queensberry. His grace has accordingly permitted them to the press; and they are here printed from the originals in the author's own hand-writing. We hope they willplease equally with his former Fables, though mostly on subjects of a graver and more political turn. They will certainly show him to have been (what he esteemed the best character) a man of a truly honest heart, and a sincere lover of his country.

FABLE I.

THE DOG AND THE FOX.

TO A LAWYER.

I KNOW you Lawyers can, with ease,
Twist words and meanings as you please;
That language, by your skill made pliant,
Will bend to favour every client;
That 'tis the fee directs the sense,
To make out either side's pretence.
When you peruse the clearest case,
You see it with a double face:
For scepticism's your profession;
You hold there's doubt in all expression.
Hence is the bar with fees supply'd ;
Hence Eloquence takes either side.
Your hand would have but paltry gleaning,
Could every man express his meaning.
Who dares presume to pen a deed,
Unless you previously are feed?

'Tis drawn; and, to augment the cost,
In dull prolixity engrost.

And now we're well secur'd by law,
Till the next brother find a flaw.

Read o'er a will. Was 't ever known
But you could make the will your own?

For, when you read, 'tis with intent To find out meanings never meant. Since things are thus, se defendendo, I bar fallacious inuendo.

Sagacious Porta's skill could trace Some beast or bird in every face. The head, the eye, the nose's shape, Prov'd this an owl, and that an ape. When, in the sketches thus design'd, Resemblance brings some friend to mind, You show the piece, and give the hint, And find each feature in the print; So monstrous like the portrait's found, All know it, and the laugh goes round, Like him I draw from general nature; Is 't I or you then fix the satire?

So, sir, I beg you, spare your pains
In making comments on my strains.
All private slander I detest,

I judge not of my neighbour's breast:
Party and prejudice I hate,
And write no libels on the state.

Shall not my fable censure vice,
Because a knave is over-nice?
And, lest the guilty hear and dread,
Shall not the decalogue be read?
If I lash Vice in general fiction,
Is 't I apply, or self-conviction?
Brutes are my theme. Am I to blame,
If men in morals are the same.
I no man call or ape or ass;
'Tis his own conscience holds the glass.
Thus void of all offence I write :
Who claims the fable, knows his right.
A shepherd's Dog unskill'd in sports,
Pick'd up acquaintance of all sorts;
Among the rest a Fox he knew;
By frequent chat their friendship grew.
Says Reynard," "Tis a cruel case,
That man should stigmatise our race.
No doubt, among us rogues you find,
As among dogs and human kind;
And yet (unknown to me and you)
There may be honest men and true.
Thus slander tries whate'er it can
To put us on the foot with man.

"Let my own actions recommend; No prejudice can blind a friend: You know me free from all disguise; My honour as my life I prize."

By talk like this, from all mistrust
The Dog was cur'd, and thought him just.
As on a time the Fox held forth
On conscience, honesty, and worth,
Sudden he stopp'd; he cock'd his ear;
Low dropt his brushy tail with fear.

"Bless us! the hunters are abroad: What's all that clatter on the road!"

"Hold," says the Dog, "we're safe from harm, 'Twas nothing but a false alarm. At yonder town 'tis market-day; Some farmer's wife is on the way; 'Tis so (I know her pyebald mare), Dame Dobbins with her poultry ware.' Reynard grew huff. Says he, "This sneer From you I little thought to hear: Your meaning. in your looks I see.

Pray, what's Dame Dobbins, friend, to me?
Did I e'er make her poultry thinner!
Prove that I owe the dame a dinner."

VOL. X.

"Friend," quoth the Cur, "I meant no harm ;
Then why so captious? why so warm?
My words, in common acceptation,
Could never give this provocation.
No lamb (for aught lever knew)
May be more innocent than you."
At this, gall'd Reynard wine'd, and swore
Such language ne'er was given before.

"What's lamb to me? this saucy hint
Shows me, base knave, which way you squint.
If th' other night your master lost
Three lambs, am I to pay the cost?
Your vile reflections would imply

That I'm the thief. You dog, you lye."
"Thou knave, thou fool!" (the Dog reply'd}
"The name is just, take either side;

Thy guilt these applications speak :
Sirrah, 'tis conscience makes you squeak."
So saying, on the Fox he flies:

The self-convicted felon dies.

FABLE IL

THE VULTURE, THE SPARROW, AND OTHER BIRDS

TO A FRIEND IN THE COUNTRY.

ERE I begin, I must premise,
Our ministers are good and wise;
So, though malicious tongues apply,
Pray what care they, or what care I?·
If I am free with courts, be 't known,
I ne'er presume to mean our own.
If general morals seem to joke
On ministers, and such-like folk,
A captious fool may take offence;

What then? He knows his own pretence,
I meddle with no state-affairs,
But spare my jest to save my ears.
Our present schemes are too profound
For Machiavel himself to sound:
To censure them I've no pretension ;
I own they 're past my comprehension.
You say your brother wants a place,
('Tis many a younger brother's case)
And that he very soon intends

To ply the court, and tease his friends.
If there his merits chance to find
A patriot of an open mind,
Whose constant actions prove him just
To both a king's and people's trust,
May he, with gratitude, attend,
And owe his rise to such a frieud!
You praise his parts, for business fit,
His learning, probity, and wit;
But those alone will never do,
Unless his patron have them too.

I've heard of times (pray God defend us?
We're not so good but he can mend us)
When wicked ministers have trod
On kings and people, law and God;
With arrogance they girt the throne,
And knew no interest but their own.
Then virtue, from preferment barr'd
Gets nothing but its own reward.
A gang of petty knaves attend 'em,
With proper parts to recommend 'em.
Then, if his patron burn with lust,
The first in favour 's pimp the first,

M m

530

His doors are never clos'd to spies,
Who cheer his heart with double lies;
They flatter him, his foes defame,
So lull the pangs of guilt and shame.
If schemes of lucre haunt his brain,
Projectors swell his greedy train;
Vile brokers ply his private ear
With jobs of plunder for the year;
All consciences must bend and ply:
You must vote on, and not know why;
Through thick and thin you must go on;
One scruple, and your place is gone.

Since plagues like these have curs'd a land,
And favourites cannot always stand,
Good courtiers should for change be ready,
And not have principles too steady;
For, should a knave engross the power,
(God shield the realm from that sad hour!)
He must have rogues or slavish fools;
For what's a knave without his tools?
Wherever those a people drain,
And strut with infamy and gain,
I envy not their guilt and state,
And scorn to share the public hate.
Let their own servile creatures rise,
By screening fraud, and venting lyes;
Give me, kind Heaven, a private station',
A mind serene for contemplation:
Title and profit I resign;

The post of honour shall be mine.
My Fable read, their merits view,
Then herd who will with such a crew.

In days of yore (my cautious rhymes
Always except the present times)
A greedy Vulture, skill'd in game,
Inur'd to guilt, unaw'd by shame,
Approach'd the throne in evil hour,
And step by step intrudes to power:
When at the royal Eagle's ear,
He longs to ease the monarch's care.
The monarch grants. With pride elate,

Behold him minister of state!

Around him throng the feather'd rout;
Friends must be serv'd, and some must out:
Each thinks his own the best pretension;
This asks a place, and that a pension;
The Nightingale was set aside.
A forward Daw his room supply'd.

"This bird," (says he) "for business fit,
Hath both sagacity and wit:

With all his turns, and shifts, and tricks,
He's docile, and at nothing sticks:
Then with his neighbours one so free
At all times will connive at me."

The Hawk had due distinction shown,
For parts and talents like his own.
Thousands of hireling Cocks attend him,
As blustering bullies, to defend him.

At once the Ravens were discarded,
And Magpies with their posts rewarded.
"Those fowls of omen I detest,
That pry into another's nest.

"State-lies must lose all good intent,
For they foresee and croak th' event.
My friends ne'er think, but talk by rote,
Speak what they're taught, and so to vote."

1-When impious men bear sway,
The post of honour is a private station.

"When rogues like these," a Sparrow cries, "To honours and employments rise,

I court no favour, ask no place;
From such, preferment is disgrace.
Within my thatch'd retreat I find

(What these ne'er feel) true peace of mind."

FABLE III.

THE BABOON AND THE POULTRY.

TO A LEVEE-HUNTER.

WE frequently misplace esteem,
By judging men by what they seem.
To birth, wealth, power, we should allow
Precedence, and our lowest bow:
In that is due distinction shown;
Esteem is Virtue's right alone.

With partial eye we're apt to see
The man of noble pedigree:
We're prepossest my lord inherits,
In some degree, his grandsire's merits;
For those we find upon record,
But find him nothing but my lord.

When we, with superficial view,
Gaze on the rich, we're dazzled too.
We know that wealth, well understood,
Hath frequent power of doing good;
Then fancy that the thing is done,
As if the power and will were one.
Thus oft the cheated crowd adore
The thriving knaves that keep them poor.
The cringing train of power survey;
What creatures are so low as they!
With what obsequiousness they bend !
To what vile actions condescend!
Their rise is on their meanness built,
And flattery is their smallest guilt.
What homage, reverence, adoration,
In every age, in every nation,
Have sycophants to power address'd!
No matter who the power possess'd.
Let ministers be what they will,
You find their levees always fill:
Ev'n those who have perplex'd a state,
Whose actions claim contempt and hate,
Had wretches to applaud their schemes,
Though more absurd than madmen's dreams,
When barbarous Moloch was invok'd,
The blood of infants only smok'd!
But here (unless all history lyes)
Whole realms have been a sacrifice.

Look through all courts: 'tis power we find
The general idol of mankind;
There worshipp'd under every shape:
Alike the lion, fox, and ape,
Are follow'd by time-serving slaves,
Rich prostitutes and needy knaves.

Who then shall glory in his post?
How frail his pride, how vain his boast!
The followers of his prosperous hour
Are as unstable as his power.
Power, by the breath of Flattery nurst,
The more it swells is nearer burst;
The bubble breaks, the gewgaw ends,
And in a dirty tear descends.

Once on a time an ancient maid,
By wishes and by time decay'd,

To cure the pangs of restless thought,
In birds and beasts amusement sought:
Dogs, parrots, apes, her hours employ'd;
With these alone she talk'd and toy'd.

A huge Baboon her fancy took,
(Almost a man in size and look)
He finger'd every thing he found,
And mimick'd all the servants round;
Then, too, his parts and ready wit
Show'd him for every business fit.
With all these talents 'twas but just
That Pug should hold a place of trust;
So to her favourite was assign'd
The charge of all her feather'd kind.
"Twas his to tend them eve and morn,
And portion out their daily corn.

Behold him now, with haughty stride,
Assume a ministerial pride.

The morning rose. In hope of picking,

Swans, turkeys, peacocks, ducks, and chicken,
Fowls of all ranks surround his hut,

To worship his important strut.
The minister appears. The crowd,
Now here, now there, obsequious bow'd.
This prais'd his parts, and that his face,
Th' other his dignity in place.
From bill to bill the flattery ran:
He hears and bears it like a man;
For, when we flatter Self-conceit,
We but his sentiments repeat.

If we're too scrupulously just,
What profit's in a place of trust?
The common practice of the great
Is to secure a snug retreat.
So Pug began to turn his brain
(Like other folks in place) on gain.

An apple-woman's stall was near,
Well stock'd with fruits through all the year;
Here every day he cramm'd his guts,
Hence were his hoards of pears and nuts ;
For 'twas agreed (in way of trade)
His payments should in corn be made.

The stock of grain was quickly spent,
And no account which way it went.
Then, too, the Poultry's starv'd condition
Caus'd speculations of suspicion.
The facts were prov'd be ond dispute;
Pug must refund his hoards of fruit;
And, though then minister in chief,
Was branded as a public thief.
Disgrac'd, despis'd, confin'd to chains,
He nothing but his pride retains.

A Goose pass'd by; he knew the face,
Seen every levee while in place.

"What, no respect! no reverence shown! How saucy are these creatures grown! Not two days since," says he, " you bow'd The lowest of my fawning crowd."

"Proud fool!" replies the Goose, "tis true Thy corn a fluttering levee drew; For that I join'd the hungry train, And sold thee flattery for thy grain. But then, as now, conceited ape, We saw thee in thy proper shape."

FABLE IV.

THE ANT IN OFFICE.

TO A FRIEND.

You tell me, that you apprehend
My verse may touchy folks offend,
In prudence, too, you think my rhymes
Should never squint at courtier's crimes;
For though nor this nor that is meant,
Can we another's thoughts prevent?

You ask me, if I ever knew
Court chaplains thus the lawn pursue?
I meddle not with gown or lawn ;
Poets, 1 grant, to rise, must fawn;
They know great ears are over-nice,
And never shock their patron's vice.
But I this hackney-path despise;
'Tis my ambition not to rise.
If I must prostitute the Muse,
The base conditions I refuse.

I neither flatter nor defame,
Yet own I would bring Guilt to shame.
If I Corruption's hand expose,
I make corrupted men my foes;
What then? I hate the paltry tribe:
Be virtue mine; be theirs the bribe.
I no man's property invade;
Corruption's yet no lawful trade.
Nor would it mighty ills produce,
Could I shame bribery out of use.

I know 'twould cramp most politicians,
Were they ty'd down to these conditions.
"Twould stint their power, their riches bound,
And make their parts seem less profound.
Were they deny'd their proper tools.
How could they lead their knaves and fools?
Were this the case, let's take a view
What dreadful mischiefs would ensue.
Though it might aggrandize the state,
Could private Luxury dine on plate?
Kings might, indeed, their friends reward,
But ministers find less regard.
Informers, sycophants, and spies,
Would not augment the year's supplies.
Perhaps, too, take away this prop,
An annual jobb or two might drop.
Besides, if pensions were deny'd,
Could Avarice support its pride?
It might ev'n ministers confound,
And yet the state be safe and sound.

I care not though 'tis understood;
I only mean my country's good:
And (let who will my freedom blame)
I wish all courtiers did the same.
Nay, though some folks the less might get,
I wish the nation out of debt.

I put no private man's ambition
With public good in competition:
Rather than have our laws defac'd,
I'd vote a minister disgrac'd.

I strike at vice, be 't where it will;
And what if great folks take it ill ?

I hope corruption, bribery, pension,
One may with detestation mention;
Think you the law (let who will take it)
Can scandalum magnatum make it?
I vent no slander, owe no grudge,
Nor of another's conscience judge:
At him or him I take no aim,
Yet dare against all vice declaim.
Shall I not censure breach of trust,
Because knaves know themselves unjust?
That steward, whose account is clear,
Demands his honour may appear:
His actions never shun the light;
He is, and would be prov'd, upright.
But then you think my Fable bears
Allusion, too, to state-affairs.

I grant it does: and who's so great,
That has the privilege to cheat?
If then in any future reign
(For ministers may thirst for gain)
Corrupted hands defraud the nation,
I bar no reader's application.

An Ant there was, whose forward prate
Controll'd all matters in debate;
Whether he knew the thing or no,
His tongue eternally would go;
For he had impudence at will,
And boasted universal skill.
Ambition was his point in view:
Thus, by degrees, to power he grew.
Behold him now his drift attain:

He 's made chief treasurer of the grain.
But as their ancient laws are just,
And punish breach of public trust,
'Tis order'd (lest wrong application
Should starve that wise industrious nation)
That all accounts be stated clear,

Their stock, and what defray'd the year;
That auditors shall these inspect,
And public rapine thus be check'd.
For this the solemn day was set;
The auditors in council met.
The granary-keeper must explain,
And balance his account of grain.

He brought (since he could not refuse them)
Some scraps of paper to amuse them.

An honest Pismire, warm with zeal,
In justice to the public weal,

Thus spoke: "The nation's hoard is low;
From whence does this profusion flow?

I know our annual funds' amount;

Why such expense? and where's th' account ?"
With wonted arrogance and pride,
The Ant in office thus reply'd:

"Consider, sirs, were secrets told,
How could the best-schem'd projects hold?
Should we state-mysteries disclose,
'Twould lay us open to our foes.
My duty and my well-known zeal
Bid me our present schemes conceal:
But, on my honour, all th' expense
(Though vast) was for the swarm's defence."
They past th' account as fair and just,
And voted him implicit trust.

Next year again, the granary drain'd,
He thus his innocence maintain'd:

"Think how our present matters stand,
What dangers threat from every hand;
What hosts of turkeys stroll for food,
No farmer's wife but hath her brood.

Consider, when invasion 's near,
Intelligence must cost us dear;
And, in this ticklish situation,

A secret told betrays the nation:
But, on my honour, all th' expense
(Though vast) was for the swarin's defence."
Again, without examination,

They thank'd his sage administration.

The year revolves. Their treasure, spent, Again in secret service went.

His honour, too, again was pledg'd,
To satisfy the charge alledg'd.

When thus, with panic shaine possess'd, An auditor his friends address'd.

"What are we? ministerial tools?
We little knaves are greater fools.
At last this secret is explor'd,
'Tis our corruption thins the hoard.
For every grain we touch'd, at least
A thousand his own heaps increas'd.
Then for his kin and favourite spies,
A hundred hardly could suffice.
Thus, for a paltry sneaking bribe,
We cheat ourselves and all the tribe;
For all the magazine contains
Grows from our annual toil and pains."

They vote th' account shall be inspected;
The cunning plunderer is detected;
The fraud is sentenc'd; and his hoard,
As due, to public use restor❜d.

FABLE V.

THE BEAR IN A BOAT.

TO A COXCOMB.

THAT man must daily wiser grow,
Whose search is bent himself to know;
Impartially he weighs his scope,
And on firm reason founds his hope;
He tries his strength before the race,
And never seeks his own disgrace;
He knows the compass, sail, and oar,
Or never launches from the shore;
Before he builds, computes the cost,
And in no proud pursuit is lost:
He learns the bounds of human sense,
And safely walks within the fence.
Thus, conscious of his own defect,
Are pride and self-importance check'd.
If then, self-knowledge to pursue,
Direct our life in every view,
Of all the fools that pride can boast,
A Coxcomb claims distinction most.

Coxcombs are of all ranks and kind;
They 're not to sex or age confin'd,
Or rich, or poor, or great, or small,
And vanity besots them all.

By ignorance is pride increas'd:

Those most assume, who know the least;

Their own false balance gives them weight, But every other finds them light.

Not that all Coxcombs' follies strike,
And draw our ridicule alike;

To different merits each pretends:
This in love-vanity transcends,

That, smitten with his face and shape,
By dress distinguishes the ape;