Skip to main content

Full text of "Aesop's fables;"

See other formats


Frank  f.'elvin  Bumstead 
1882-1938 


^. 


^-f..  ( 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/aesopsfablesOOdodsrich 


ALPHA    LIBRARY. 


iEsop's  Fables 

Together  with 

The  Life  of  ^sop 

By 
Mons.  De  Meziriac. 


Chicago  and  New  York: 

Rand,  McNally  &  Company, 

Publishers. 
^0X8  XNajixsTdaa  AViStayoHa 


Copyright,  1897,  by  Rand,  McNally  &  Co. 


c)40 
PREFACE.  i^^c^^i 


The  fables  of  yEsop  have  always  been  esteemed  the  best 
lessons  for  youth,  as  best  adapted  to  convey  the  most  use- 
ful maxims,  in  the  most  agreeable  manner.  Accord- 
ingly many  writers,  both  in  verse  and  prose,  have  endea- 
vored to  clothe  them  in  an  English  dress.  It  would  ill 
become  the  author  of  this  work  to  animadvert  upon  their 
labors;  but  he  thinks  it  may  be  said  with  truth,  and  he 
hopes  also  with  modesty,  that  nothing  of  this  kind  which 
has  been  published  in  prose,  can  justly  discourage  him 
from  the  present  undertaking. 

In  forming  this  collection,  he  has  endeavored  to  dis- 
tinguish the  respective  compositions  of  the  earlier  and 
later  mythologists ;  and  he  trusts  it  will  not  be  found  that 
he  has  often  been  mistaken  in  this  regulation,  though  an 
error  of  that  kind  might  perhaps  appear  of  no  great  im- 
portance. His  principal  aim  was  to  select  such  Fables  as 
would  make  the  strongest  and  most  useful  impressions 
on  the  minds  of  youth;  and  then  to  offer  them  in  such  un- 
affected language,  as  might  have  some  tendency  to  im- 
prove their  style.  If  in  this  he  have  at  all  succeeded,  the 
work,  it  is  presumed,  will  not  be  unserviceable  to  young 
readers,  nor  wholly  unentertaining  to  persons  of  maturer 
judgment. 

To  these  he  has  ventured  to  add  a  number  of  original 
Fables;  and  he  offers  them  to  the  public  with  all  the 
diffidence  which  ought  to  accompany  every  modern  pro- 
duction, when  it  appears  in  conjunction  with  writings  of 
established  reputation.     Indeed,  whatever  hopes  he  has. 


VI  PREFACE. 

that  the  present  work  may  be  favorably  received,  arise 
cliiefiy  from  the  consideration,  that  he  has  been  assisted 
in  it  by  gentlemen  of  the  most  distinguished  abilities;  and 
that  several,  both  of  the  old  and  the  new  Fables,  are  not 
written  by  himself,  but  by  authors,  with  whom  it  is  an 
honor  to  be  connected,  and  who  having  condescended  to 
favor  him  with  their  assistance,  have  given  him  an  op- 
portunity of  making  some  atonement  for  his  own  defects. 
The  life  of  .lisop  prefixed  to  this  collection,  is  taken 
from  Mons.  de  Mcziriac,  a  very  learned  and  ingenious 
Frenchman;  who  being  disgusted  with  the  gross  for- 
geries of  Planudes,  published  in  1632  the  best  account  he 
could  collect  from  ancient  writers  of  good  authority.  But 
this  little  book  soon  after  became  so  extremely  scarce, 
that  Mons.  Bayle,  in  the  first  edition  of  his  dictionary, 
laments  he  never  could  get  a  sight  of  it;  Dr.  Bentley 
in  his  dissertation  on  ^sop's  Fables  makes  much  the 
same  complaint;  nor  does  it  appear  that  Sir  Roger  Le- 
strange  or  Dr.  Croxal,  ever  so  much  as  heard  of  Meziriac's 
name.  The  work  indeed  in  the  original  lias  continued 
equally  scarce  to  this  day;  but  an  English  translation 
of  it  falling  into  the  writer's  hands,  he  has  endeavored  in 
some  measure  to  correct  the  language;  adding  notes 
from  several  authors,  particularly  from  Boyle's  and  Bent- 
ley's  controversy  on  the  subject;  and  he  is  persuaded 
that  the  judicious  reader  will  not  condemn  him  for  adopt- 
ing it,  instead  of  the  fictitious  and  absurd  relation  of 
Planudes. 


THE  LIFE  OF  ^SOP. 


CHAPTER  I. 

OF  THE  PLACE  OF  HIS  BIRTH. 

It  happened  to  Homer,  the  prince  of  Grecian  poets, 
that  the  place  of  his  nativity  was  never  certainly  known ; 
and  it  would  be  as  difficult  to  ascertain  the  country  v.hich 
gave  birth  to  ^sop,  so  much  have  ancient  authors  dififered 
upon  this  subject  also.  Some  have  thought  him  a  Lydian, 
born  in  the  city  of  Sardis,  the  capital  of  that  kingdom; 
others  have  believed  he  drew  his  origin  from  the  island 
of  Samos.  Some  have  maintained  that  he  was  a  Thracian, 
of  the  city  of  ^lesembria;  but  authors  are  now,  for  the 
most  part,  agreed,  that  he  was  a  native  of  Phrygia, 
either  of  Amorium,  or  Cotiaeum,  both  towns  in  the  same 
province.  However,  as  it  may  be  allowable  to  conjecture 
on  a  point  so  dubious,  I  imagine  they  who  have  thought 
him  a  Lydian,  or  a  Samian,  have  grounded  their  opinion 
on  the  probability  of  his  being  born  in  one  of  those  places 
where  he  spent  the  greatest  part  of  his  life;  and  it  is  certain 
that  during  his  slavery,  his  common  habitation  was  in  the 
island  of  Samos;  and  after  he  was  made  free,  he  lived 
almost  wholly  in  the  court  of  Croesus,  king  of  Lydia.  But 
though  this  opinion  is  not  totally  destitute  of  a  plausible 
appearance,  the  probability  of  his  being  a  Phrygian,  as  it 
is  founded  on  the  common  consent  of  many  ancient  writ- 
ers, and  supported  by  the  most  credible  authority,  is  now 
generally  received  and  established. 


8  THE  LIFE  OF  ^SOP. 

It  may  perhaps  be  acceptable  to  some  readers,  and 
not  improper  in  this  place,  to  add  a  passage  from  the 
learned  Mr.  Sale,  in  his  notes  to  the  Koran,  concerning 
the  Eastern  fabulist  Lokman,  who  has  been  imagined  by 
some  writers  to  be  the  same  person  with  our  ^sop.  The 
Arabian  writers,  says  he,  afifirm  that  Lokman  was  the  son 
of  Bauvan,  who  was  the  son  or  grandson  of  a  sister  or  aunt 
of  Job;  and  that  he  lived  several  centuries,  even  to  the 
time  of  David,  with  whom  he  was  conversant  in  Palestine. 
According  to  the  description  they  give  of  his  person,  he 
must  have  been  deformed  enough;  for  they  say  he  was  of 
a  black  complexion  (whence  some  call  him  an  Ethiopian) 
with  thick  lips,  and  splay  ieet;  but  in  return,  he  received 
from  God  wisdom  and  eloquence  in  a  great  degree; 
which,  some  pretend,  were  given  him  in  a  vision,  on  his 
making  choice  of  wisdom  preferably  to  the  gift  of  pro- 
phecy, either  of  which  were  offered  him.  The  generalty 
of  the  Mohammedans  therefore  hold  him  to  have  been  no 
prophet,  but  only  a  wise  man.  As  to  his  condition,  they 
say  he  was  a  slave,  but  obtained  his  liberty  on  the  follow- 
ing occasion.  His  master  having  one  day  given  him  a 
bitter  melon  to  eat,  he  paid  him  such  exact  obedience  as 
to  eat  it  all;  at  which  his  master  being  surprised,  asked 
him,  How  he  could  eat  so  bitter  a  fruit?  To  which  he 
replied.  It  was  no  wonder,  that  he  should  for  once  accept 
a  bitter  fruit  from  the  same  hand  from  which  he  had  re- 
ceived so  many  favors.  The  commentators  mention  sev- 
eral quick  repartees  of  Lokman,  which,  together  with  the 
circumstances  above  mentioned,  agree  so  well  with  what 
Maximus  Planudes  has  written  of  ^sop,  that  from  thence, 
and  from  the  fables  attributed  to  Lokman  by  the  Orien- 
tals, the  latter  has  been  generally  thought  to  be  no  other 
than  the  .^sop  of  the  Greeks.  However  that  be  (for  I 
think  the  matter  will  bear  a  dispute)  I  am  of  opinion  that 


K 


THE  LIFE  OF  .ESOP.  9 

Planudes  borrowed  great  part  of  his  life  of  ^Esop  from  the 
traditions  he  met  with  in  the  East  concerning  Lokman, 
concluding  them  to  have  been  the  same  person,  because 
they  were  both  slaves,  and  supposed  to  be  the  writers  of 
those  fables  which  go  under  their  respective  names,  and 
bear  a  great  resemblance  to  one  another;  for  it  has  long 
been  observed  by  learned  men,  that  the  greater  part  of 
that  monk's  performance  is  an  absurd  romance,  and  sup- 
ported by  no  evidence  of  ancient  writers. — Salens  Koran, 
P-  JS5- 

A  collection  of  Lokman's  fables  may  be  found  in  Er- 
penius's  Arabic  Grammar,  between  thirty  and  forty  in 
number,  printed  in  Arabic,  with  a  Latin  translation. 
They  very  much  resemble  the  fables  of  .Esop,  and  have 
most  of  them  been  inserted  in  our  collections:  particu- 
larly, The  stag  drinking;  The  old  man  and  death;  The 
hare  and  the  tortoise;  The  sun  and  the  wind — all  of  which 
are  in  Erpenius's  collection,  under  the  name  of  Lokman. 


10  THE  LIFE  OF  A,SOP. 


CHAPTER  II. 

OF  HIS  PERSON,  TALENTS,  AND  DISPOSITION. 

It  is  allowed  by  all,  that  .^sop  was  a  slave  from  his 
youth,  and  that  in  this  condition,  he  served  several  mas- 
ters: but  I  am  ignorant  where  Planudes  has  authority 
for  asserting  that  he  was  the  most  deformed  of  all  men 
living,  exactly  resembling  Hemer's  Thersites;  I  find  no 
ancient  author  who  thus  describes  him.  What  Planudes 
adds,  that  the  word  .'Esop  signifies  the  same  with  .Ethiop, 
and  was  given  him  on  account  of  the  blackness  of  his  vis- 
age, may  also  be  very  justly  contradicted;  for  though 
some  grammarians  arc  of  opinion,  that  from  the  verb 
setho,  which  signifies  to  scorch,  and,  from  the  noun  ops, 
which  signifies  visage,  the  word  ^thiop  may  be  formed; 
yet  we  learn  from  Eustathius,  that  aetho  (in  the  future 
aeso)  signifies  to  shine,  as  well  as  to  burn;  and  that  ops, 
with  o  long,  signifies  the  eye;  so  that  the  name  .^sop 
signifies  a  man  with  sparkling  eyes.  Neither  do  I  give 
much  credit  to  the  same  author,  when  he  says,  that  .Esop 
had  such  an  impediment  in  his  tongue,  that  he  could 
scarcely  utter  articulate  sounds,  as  he  seems  to  have  at- 
tributed this  imperfection  to  him,  only  to  have  some 
ground  for  the  fabulous  account  which  he  afterwards 
gives,  of  Fortune's  appearing  to  him  in  a  dream,  and  be- 
stowing on  him  the  gift  of  speech.  Altogether  as  void 
of  probability  is  the  story  v^^hich  Apollonius  tells  in  Philo- 
stratus;  that  Mercury,  having  distributed  to  other  persons 
the  knowledge  of  all  the  sciences,  had  nothing  left  for 
<^5op  but  the  art  of  making  fables,  with  which  he  en- 


THE  LIFE  OF  ^SOP.  II 

doued  him.  But  a  principal  reason  which  prevents  me 
from  assenting  to  what  Planudes  advances,  is,  that  it  can- 
not be  supported  by  authority  from  any  ancient  author; 
on  the  contrary,  it  is  asserted  in  a  Greek  fragment  of  his 
Hfe,  found  in  the  works  of  Aphthonius,  that  yEsop  had  an 
excellent  disposition,  and  talents  for  every  thing;  and 
in  particular,  a  great  inclination  and  aptitude  for  music, 
which  is  not  very  consistent  with  his  having  a  bad  voice, 
and  being  dumb. 


12  THE  LIFE  Or  ^SOP. 


CHAPTER  III. 

OF  HIS  CONDITION.  AND  THE  COURSE  OF  HIS  STUDIES. 

^sop's  first  master,  as  may  be  gathered  from  the  be- 
forementioncd  Aphthonius,  was  Zemarchus,  or  Demar- 
chiis,  surnamed  Caresias,  a  native  and  inhabitant  of  Ath- 
ens: and  his  passing  some  part  of  his  youth  in  thisiamous 
city,  the  mother  and  nurse  of  science  and  pohte  learning, 
was  of  no  small  advantage  to  him.  It  is  probable  also, 
that  his  master,  perceiving  in  him  a  good  understand- 
ing, agreeable  manners,  lively  genius,  and  a  general 
capacity,  and  finding  also  that  he  served  him  with  much 
afifection  and  fidelity;  it  is  probable,  I  say,  that  he  might 
take  care  to  get  him  instructed.  It  was  from  Athens  then, 
as  from  the  fountain  head,  that  he  drew  the  purity  of  the 
Greek  language.  It  was  there  too  that  he  acquired  the 
knowledge  of  moral  philosophy,  which  at  that  time  was 
the  fashionable  study,  there  being  but  few  persons  who 
made  profession  of  the  speculative  sciences,  as  may  b*^ 
concluded  by  the  seven  sages  of  Greece,  the  most  cele- 
brated men  of  that  age,  amongst  whom  Thales  the  Mile- 
sian alone  had  the  curiosity  to  inquire  into  the  secrets  of 
natural  philosophy,  and  into  the  subtleties  of  mathemati- 
cal learning:  the  rest  were  not  reputed  wise  for  any  other 
reason  than  their  publishing  certain  grave  and  moral  sen- 
tences, the  truth  of  which  they  established  and  rendered 
of  some  authority  by  their  prudent  and  virtuous  lives, 
.^sop,  indeed,  did  not  follow  their  method:  he  wisely 
considered,  that  the  meanness  of  his  birth,  and  his  ser- 
vile condition,  would  not  permit  him  to  sj^eak  with  suf- 


THE  LIFE  OF  ^SOP.  13 

ficient  authority  in  the  way  of  sentence  and  precept;  he 
therefore  composed  fables,  which  by  a  narration  pleasing 
and  full  of  novelty,  so  charms  the  minds,  even  of  the  most 
ignorant,  that  through  the  pleasure  which  they  receive 
"from  it,  they  taste  imperceptibly  the  moral  sense  which 
lies  concealed  underneath. 

I  know  very  well  that  ^Esop  was  not  the  inventor  of 
those  fables,  in  which  the  use  of  speech  is  given  to  ani- 
mals. The  honor  of  this  invention,  as  Quintilian  alleges, 
is  justly  due  to  the  poet  Hesiod,  who  in  the  first  book  of 
his  "Works  and  Days,"  relates  very  prettily  the  fable  of 
the  hawk  and  the  nightingale.  Be  this  as  it  may,  ^sop 
has  advanced  so  far  before  every  competitor,  that  all  fa- 
bles of  this  kind  are  called  .-Esopic,  because  a  great  num- 
ber of  them  are  of  his  composing;  and  the  choicest  pre- 
cepts of  moral  philosophy  are  by  his  means  conveyed  to 
us  in  this  agreeable  manner.  And  indeed,  I  very  Highly 
approve  the  opinion  of  xA-pollonius,  who  maintains  that 
the  fables  of  ^sop  are  much  more  useful  for  the  instruc- 
tion of  youth,  than  the  fables  of  the  poets ;  and  his  reasons 
for  this  assertion  are  very  pertinent,  as  may  be  seen  in 
Philostratus.  But  that  /Esop  composed  all  his  fables 
during  the  time  that  he  was  a  slave  at  Athens,  I  will  not 
however  afBrm;  I  only  think  it  probable,  that  it  was 
there  he  first  became  enamored  of  morality,  and  laid  the 
plan  of  teaching  the  most  beautiful  and  useful  maxims  of 
philosophy,  under  the  veil  of  fables;  which  nevertheless 
he  might  not  publish  till  long  afterwards,  when  he  had 
obtained  his  freedom,  had  acquired  the  reputation  of 
being  one  of  the  wisest  and  ablest  men  of  Greece,  and  was 
arrived  to  great  esteem,  not  only  among  the  common  peo- 
ple, but  even  with  princes  and  kings. 


14  THE  LIFE  OF  iESOP. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

OF   HIS    DIFFERENT    MASTERS.    AND    OF    HIS    FELLOW 
SERVANT.  THE  FAMOUS  COURTESAN.  RHODOPIS 

Let  US  now  resume  the  thread  of  our  narration.  In 
process  of  time,  ^-Esop  was  sold  to  Xanthus,  a  native  of  the 
island  of  Samos;  and  after  he  had  served  him  for  a  cer- 
tain time,  he  was  again  disposed  of  to  the  philosopher 
Idmon.  or  Jadmon,  who  was  likewise  of  that  country ;  and 
had  at  the  same  time  for  his  slarve  that  Rhodopis,  who  was 
afterwards  so  famous  as  a  courtesan.  This  woman  was 
endowed  with  very  extraordinary  beauty,  and  happening 
to  be  carried  into  Egypt,  Charaxus,  the  brother  of  Sappho 
the  poetess,  fell  so  deeply  in  love  with  her,  that  he  sold 
all  he  had,  and  reduced  himself  to  extreme  poverty,  in 
order  to  redeem  and  set  her  at  liberty.  She  afterwards 
rose  to  such  eminence  in  her  vocation,  and  amassed  such 
heaps  of  wealth,  that  of  the  tithe  of  her  gain,  she  caused 
great  numbers  of  large  spits  of  iron  to  be  made,  which 
she  sent  as  an  offering  to  the  temple  of  Apollo  at  Delphi. 
And  if  we  may  credit  certain  authors,  she  amassed  such 
immense  treasures  as  enabled  her  to  build  one  of  the  cele- 
brated pyramids  of  Egypt.  So  much,  by  the  way,  of  this 
famous  courtesan,  who  was  fellow  servant  with  ^sop 
while  he  lived  with  Jadmon ;  to  show  how  these  two  per- 
sons, born  in  a  servile  condition,  arrived  by  very  different 
methods  to  a  more  splendid  fortune ;  the  one  by  his  merit 
and  the  beauties  of  his  mind,  the  other  by  the  infamous 
trafific  of  her  personal  charms. 

For  the  rest,  it  is  certain  that  it  was  Jadmon  who  gave 


THE  LIFE  OF  .ESOP.  15 

^sop  his  liberty;  whether  as  a  reward  for  his  faithful 
services,  or  that  he  was  ashamed  to  keep  longer  in  servi- 
tude a  person  whose  superior  qualities  rendered  him  more 
worthy  to  command,  may  be  difficult  to  determine:  but 
the  fact  is  to  be  proved,  by  the  express  testimony  of  the 
scholiast  of  Aristophanes,  on  the  comedy  of  the  Birds, 
as  well  as  by  the  authority  of  Herodotus  and  Plutarch; 
for  it  follows  by  necessary  consequence  from  what  they 
say,  as  I  shall  show^  particularly  when  I  come  to  speak 
of  the  death  of  ^sop.  Planudes  therefore  deserves  no 
credit,  when  he  affirms  that  Xanthus  was  the  last  master 
of  ^sop,  and  the  person  who  gave  him  his  liberty.  Very 
little  also  must  be  believed  of  what  he  relates  concerning 
^sop  while  he  was  in  the  service  of  Xanthus,  as  he  makes 
him  say  and  do  so  many  impertinent  and  ridiculous 
things,  that  none  can  receive  them  for  true,  without  im- 
agining ^sop  an  idle  buffoon,  rather  than  a  serious 
philosopher.  And  in  fine,  since  nothing  of  this  ridiculous 
stuff  is  to  be  found  in  ancient  writers,  I  think  one  may 
with  justice  affirm,  that  they  are  no  better  than  idle  tales, 
and  mere  fooleries. 


l6  THE  LIFF.  OF  .T:S0P. 


CHAPTER  V. 

OF  HIS   ADVANCEMENT   TO   THE    COURT    OF    CRCESUS, 

KING  OF  LYDIA,    AND  OF   HIS  MEETING  THE 

SEVEN  SAGES  THERE. 

Whatever  may  be  doubtful  in  the  life  of  ^sop,  there 
is  nothing  more  certain  than  that  after  recovering  his  lib- 
erty, he  soon  acquired  a  very  great  reputation  amongst 
the  Greeks,  being  held  in  almost  equal  estimation  with 
any  of  the  seven  sages  who  flourished  at  this  time,  that  is, 
the  fifty-second  olympiad.  The  fame  of  his  wisdom  reach- 
ing the  ears  of  Croesus,  that  monarch  sent  for  him  to  his 
court,  admitted  him  to  his  friendship,  and  so  obliged 
him  by  his  favors  that  he  engaged  himself  in  his  service 
to  the  end  of  his  days.  His  residence  in  the  court  of  this 
mighty  king  rendered  him  more  polite  than  inost  of  the 
other  philosophers  of  his  time;  more  complaisant  to  the 
humors  of  princes,  and  more  reconciled  to  monarchical 
government,  of  which  he  gave  evident  proofs  on  divers 
occasions.  For  instance,  when  Croesus  had  prevailed 
with  the  seven  sages  to  meet  in  his  capital  city  of  Sardis, 
after  having  shown  them  the  magnificence  of  his  court, 
and  his  vast  riches,  he  asked  them.  Whom  they  thought 
the  happiest  man  of  all  they  had  known?  Some  named 
one  person,  and  some  another;  Solon,  in  particular,  gave 
this  praise  to  Tellus,  an  Athenian,  and  also  to  Cleobis  and 
Biton,  Argians;  concluding,  that  no  one  could  be  pro- 
nounced happy  before  his  death,  ^sop,  perceiving  the 
king  was  not  well  satisfied  with  any  of  their  answers, 
spoke  in  his  turn,  and  said:  For  my  part,  I  am  persuaded 
that  Croesus  hath  as  much  pre-eminence  in  happiness 


THE  LIFE  OF  JESQP.  17 

over  all  other  men,  as  the  sea  hath  over  all  the  rivers.  The 
king  was  so  pleased  with  this  judgment,  that  he  eagerly 
pronounced  that  sentence,  which  has  continued  ever  since 
a  common  proverb — "The  Phrygian  has  hit  the  mark." 
W'hen  Solon,  therefore,  took  leave  of  Croesus,  who  dis- 
missed him  very  coolly,  yEsop  being  sorry  that  Solon  had 
spoken  to  the  king  with  so  little  complaisance,  said  to 
him,  as  he  accompanied  him  part  of  the  way,  O  Solon, 
either  we  must  not  speak  to  kings,  or  we  must  say  what 
pleases  them.  On  the  contrary,  answered  Solon,  we 
must  either  not  speak  to  kings  at  all,  or  we  must  give 
them  good  and  useful  advice.  Another  time,  as  ^sop 
was  traveling  over  Greece,  either  to  satisfy  his  curiosity, 
or  about  the  particular  affairs  of  Croesus,  it  happened  that 
he  passed  through  Athens,  just  after  Pisistratus  had 
usurped  the  sovereign  power,  and  abolished  the  popular 
state;  seeing  that  the  Athenians  bore  the  yoke  very  im- 
patiently, longing  to  recover  their  liberty,  and  to  rid 
themselves  of  Pisistratus,  though  his  government  was 
easy  and  moderate,  iEsop  related  to  them  the  fable  of 
the  frogs  that  entreated  Jupiter  to  give  them  a  king,  ex- 
horting them  to  submit  cheerfully  to  so  good  a  prince  as 
Pisistratus,  lest  in  changing  they  should  fall  under  the 
power  of  some  mischievous  and  cruel  tyrant. 


l8  THE  LIFE  OF  JESOT. 


CIIAPTKR  VT. 

SOME  DETACHED  PARTICULARS  OF  HIS  LIFE,  AND  THE 

IMPROBABILITY  OF  PLANUDES'  ACCOUNT  OF  HIS 

TRAVELS  INTO  EGYPT  AND  BABYLON. 

There  are  not  many  other  particulars  found  concerning 
/Esop,  in  authors  worthy  of  credit;  except  it  be  that  he 
once  again  met  with  the  seven  sages  of  Greece,  in  the 
court  of  Periander,  king  of  Corinth.  However,  I  dare 
not  affirm  whether  it  was  here,  or  in  some  other  place, 
that,  falling  into  discourse  with  Chilon,  who  had  asked 
him,  What  God  was  doing?  He  answered,  that  he  was 
humbling  high  things,  and  exalting  low.  Some  also  re- 
late, that  to  show  how  the  life  of  man  abounds  w'ith  mis- 
ery, and  that  one  pleasure  is  accompanied  with  a  thou- 
sand pains,  ^-Esop  was  wont  to  say.  that  Prometheus  hav- 
ing taken  earth  to  form  a  man,  had  tempered  and  mois- 
tened it,  not  with  water,  but  with  tears. 

I  reject  as  pure  falsehood  and  invention,  all  that  Pla- 
nudes  writes  of  ^sop's  travels  into  Egypt  and  Babylon, 
because  he  intermixes  stories  altogether  incredible,  and 
adds  to  them  certain  circumstances,  which  are  repugnant 
to  the  truth  of  history,  or  which  wholly  overturn  the  order 
of  time.  I  shall  content  myself  with  alleging  two  signal 
falsities,  on  which  he  builds  all  the  rest  of  his  narration. 
He  says  that  the  king  who  reigned  in  Babylon  when 
yEsop  went  thither,  was  called  Lycerus.  But  who  has 
ever  read  or  heard  of  such  a  king?  Let  the  catalogue  of  all 
the  kings  of  Babylon,  from  Xabonasser  to  Alexander  the 
Great,  be  examined,  and  you  shall  not  find  one  amongst 


THE  LIFE  OF  iESOP.  I9 

them  whose  name  is  at  all  like  Lycerus.  On  tlie  other 
hand,  by  the  exactest  chronology  it  will  appear,  that  in 
/Esop's  time  there  could  be  no  other  king  in  Babylon,  but 
Nebuchadnezzar,  and  his  father,  Nebopolasser ;  since  Neb- 
opolasser  reigned  one-and-twenty  years,  and  Nebuchad- 
nezzar forty-three,  who  died  the  same  year  with  ^sop, 
being  the  first  of  the  fifty-fourth  olympiad.  Neither  is 
it  more  possible  to  believe,  that  ^sop  went  into  Egypt  in 
the  time  of  king  Nectanebus,  as  Planudes  asserts,  since 
this  king  did  not  begin  to  reign  till  two  hundred  years 
after  the  death  of  ^sop:  that  is  to  say,  in  the  hundred 
and  fourth  olympiad.  And  one  need  not  be  very  learned 
in  chronology,  to  be  certain,  that  ^sop  lived  partly  under 
the  reign  of  Apries,  and  partly  under  that  of  his  successor 
Amasis,  kings  of  Egypt. 


20  THE  LIFE  OF  JESOV. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

OF  HIS  DEATH. 

What  Planudes  relates  about  the  death  of  /Esop,  comes 
nearer  to  the  truth  than  anything  which  he  has  written 
concerning  his  life.  However,  it  is  still  safer  to  rely  on 
what  ancient  authors  have  said  on  the  subject,  and  they 
record  it  thus.  ^Esop,  being  sent  by  Crccsus  to  the  city 
of  Delphi,  with  a  large  sum  of  gold,  in  order  to  ofTer  mag- 
nificent sacrifices  to  Apollo,  and  to  distribute  to  each  citi- 
zen four  minae  of  silver;  it  happened  that  differences 
arose  between  him  and  the  townsmen  to  such  a  degree, 
that  he  spoke  of  them  in  very  provoking  terms.  Among 
other  things,  he  reproached  them  with  having  hardly  any 
arable  land,  and  that  were  it  not  for  the  great  concourse 
of  strangers,  and  the  frequent  sacrifices  that  were  ofifered 
in  their  temple,  they  would  soon  be  reduced  to  die  of 
hunger.  Not  satisfied  with  offending  them  in  words,  he 
proceeded  to  deeds;  having  perforaned  the  sacrifices  in 
the  manner  that  Croesus  had  ordered,  he  sent  back  the 
rest  of  the  money  to  the  city  of  Sardis,  as  judging  the 
Delphians  unworthy  to  partake  of  the  king's  liberality. 
This  irritated  them  against  him  to  such  a  degree,  that 
they  consulted  how  they  might  be  revenged  on  him,  and 
conspired  by  a  notorious  villainy  to  take  away  his  life. 
They  hid  amongst  his  baggage  one  of  the  golden  vessels 
consecrated  to  Apollo;  and  as  ^sop  departed  toward 
Phocis,  they  sent  immediate  messengers  after  him,  who, 
searching  his  baggage,  found  the  vessel  which  they  them- 
selves had  there  deposited.     On  this,  they  presently  drag 


THE  LIFE  OF  iESOP.  21 

him  to  prison,  accuse  him  of  sacrilege,  and  sentence  him 
to  be  precipitated  from  the  rock  Hyampia,  which  was 
the  punishment  conmionly  inflicted  on  sacrilegious  per- 
sons. As  they  were  on  the  point  of  throwing  him  off, 
in  order  to  deter  them  from  so  execrable  an  act  by  the 
apprehension  of  divine  justice,  which  suffers  no  wicked- 
ness to  go  unpunished,  he  told  them  the  fable  of  the  eagle 
and  the  beetle.  But  the  Delphians,  paying  no  regard  to 
his  fable,  pushed  him  down  the  prec!ipice.  It  is  recorded, 
however,  that  their  land  was  rendered  barren,  and  that 
they  were  afflicted  with  many  strange  distempers,  for  sev- 
eral years  afterwards.  In  this  distress  they  consulted  the 
oracle,  and  were  answered,  that  all  their  miseries  were 
owing  to  the  unjust  condemnation  and  death  of  ^sop. 
On  this,  they  caused  it  to  be  proclaimed  by  sound  of  trum- 
pet, at  all  the  public  feasts  and  general  meetings  of  the 
Greeks,  that  if  there  were  any  of  the  kindred  of  ^sop, 
who  would  demand  satisfaction  for  his  death,  he  was  de- 
sired to  come  and  exact  it  of  them,  in  what  manner  he 
pleased.  But  no  one  was  found  that  pretended  any  right 
in  this  affair,  till  the  third  generation;  when  a  Samian 
presented  himself,  named  Jadmon,  grandson  of  that  Jad- 
mon,  who  had  been  master  to  ^'Esop  in  the  island  of 
Samos;  and  the  Delphians  having  made  him  some  satis- 
faction, were  delivered  from  their  calamities.  It  is  said, 
that  after  this  time,  they  transferred  the  punishment  of 
sacrilegious  persons  from  the  rock  Hyampia  to  that  of 
Nauplia.  From  hence  it  appears,  as  I  hinted  above,  to  be 
the  opinion  of  Herodotus  and  Plutarch,  that  Jadmon  was 
the  last  master  of  .^Esop,  and  he  that  set  him  free,  because 
otherwise,  neither  he  nor  any  of  his  descendants  could 
have  any  interest  in  his  death,  nor  pretend  to  any  right  of 
seeking  reparation,  or  receiving  satisfaction. 


22  THE  LIFE  OF   yESOP. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

OF  THE  HONORS  DONE  HIM  AFTER  HIS  DEATH. 

And  now  I  will  readily  agree  with  Planudes,  that 
.-Esop  was  regretted  by  the  greatest  and  wisest  men  of 
Greece,  who  testified  to  the  Delphians  how  much  they 
resented  his  death.  But  I  add,  that  'the  Athenians,  in 
particular,  had  ^sop  in  so  much  honor,  that  they  erected 
for  him  a  magnificent  statue  in  their  city;  regarding 
more  the  greatness  of  his  personal  merit,  than  the  mean- 
ness of  his  race  and  condition.  I  further  say,  that  the 
opinion  which  all  the  world  had  conceived  of  his  wisdom 
and  probity,  encouraged  the  poets  to  make  the  people  be- 
lieve that  the  gods  had  raised  him  again  to  life,  as  they  had 
done  Tyndarus,  Hercules,  Glaucus,  and  Hypolitus.  Nay, 
some  have  not  scrupled  to  affirm,  that  he  lived  many  years 
after  his  resurrection,  and  fought  twice  on  the  side  of  the 
Greeks  against  the  Persians,  in  the  straits  of  Thermopylae, 
which  must  have  been  above  eighty  years  after  his  death. 
But  these  are  such  manifest  absurdities,  as  confute  them- 
selves. Neither  is  it  probable,  as  some  have  asserted,  that 
he  wrote  two  books  concerning  what  happened  to  him 
in  the  city  of  Delphi,  unless  it  be  supposed  that  he  made 
two  voyages  thither,  and  wrote  of  the  first :  for  in  the  last, 
it  is  very  improbable  he  should  have  any  time  for  such  a 
work ;  neither  can  it  be  grounded  on  the  testimony  of  any 
author  worthy  of  credit.  It  is  indeed  most  probable,  that 
he  left  nothing  in  writing  but  his  fables,  which,  either  for 
the  elegance  of  the  narration,  or  the  usefulness  of  their 
morality,  have  always  been  so  much  esteemed,  that  many 


THE  LIFE  OF  ^SOP.  23 

of  them  have  preserved  themselves  in  the  memories  of 
men  for  above  two  thousand  years.  Yet  I  do  not  assert 
that  those  which  Planudes  has  pubHshed  are  the  very 
fables  which  ^sop  wrote,  as  Planudes  has  given  us  too 
many  occasions  to  doubt  of  his  sincerity;  and  also,  as  he 
has  omitted  in  his  collection  many  fables,  which  ancient 
authors  have  attributed  to  /Esop.  If  we  could  be  certain 
that  it  is  the  genuine  work  of  ^sop,  we  must  doubtless 
confess,  that  we  have  no  writings  in  prose  more  ancient, 
except  the  books  of  Closes,  and  some  others  of  the  Old 
Testament. 


AN    ESSAY  ON  FABLE. 
I. 

INTRODUCTION. 

Whoever  undertakes  to  compose  a  fable,  whether  of 
the  subHmer  and  more  complex  kind,  as  the  epic  and  dra- 
matic; or  of  the  lower  and  more  simple,  as  what  has 
been  called  the  ^sopean;  must  first  endeavor  to  illustrate 
some  one  moral  or  prudential  maxim.  To  this  point  the 
composition  in  all  its  parts  must  be  directed;  and  this  will 
lead  him  to  describe  some  action  proper  to  enforce  the 
maxim  he  has  chosen.  In  several  respects,  therefore,  the 
greater  fable  and  the  less  agree.  It  is  the  business  of 
both  to  teach  some  particular  moral,  exemplified  by  an 
action,  and  this  enlivened  by  natural  incidents.  Both 
alike  must  be  supported  by  apposite  and  proper  char- 
acters, and  both  be  furnished  with  sentiments  and  lan- 
guage suitable  to  the  characters  thus  empjoyed.  I 
would  by  no  means,  however,  infer,  that,  to  produce  one 
of  these  small  pieces  requires  the  same  degree  of  genius, 
as  to  form  an  epic  or  dramatic  Fable.  All  I  would  in- 
sinuate, is,  that  the  apologue  has  a  right  to  some  share  of 
our  esteem,  from  the  relation  it  bears  to  the  poems  be- 
fore mentioned:  as  it  is  honorable  to  spring  from  a  noble 
stem,  although  in  ever  so  remote  a  branch.  A  perfect 
fable,  even  of  this  inferior  kind,  seems  a  much  stronger 
proof  of  genius  than  the  mere  narrative  of  an  event.  The 
latter  indeed  requires  judgment:  the  former,  together 
with  judgment,  demands  an  effort  of  the  imagination. 


26  AN  ESSAY  ON  FABLE. 

Having  thus  endeavored  to  procure  these  little  com- 
positions as  much  regard  as  they  may  fairly  claim,  I  pro- 
ceed to  treat  of  some  particulars  most  essential  to  their 
character. 


11. 

ON  THE  TRUTH  OR  MORAL  OF  A  FABLE. 

It  is  the  very  essence  of  a  Fable  to  convey  some  Moral 
or  useful  Truth,  beneath  the  shadow  of  an  allegory.  It 
is  this  chiefly  that  distinguishes  a  Fable  from  a  Tale, 
and  indeed  gives  it  the  pre-eminence  in  point  of  use  and 
dignity.  A  tale  may  consist  of  an  event  either  serious  or 
comic;  and,  provided  it  be  told  agreeably,  may  be  excel- 
lent in  its  kind,  though  it  should  imply  no  sort  of  Moral. 
But  the  action  of  a  Fable  is  contrived  on  purpose  to  teach 
and  to  imprint  some  Truth;  and  should  clearly  and  ob- 
viously include  the  illustration  of  it,  in  the  very  catas- 
trophe. 

The  Truth  to  be  preferred  on  this  occasion  should 
neither  be  too  obvious,  nor  trite,  nor  trivial.  Such  would 
ill  deserve  the  pains  employed  in  Fable  to  convey  it.  As 
little  also  should  it  be  one  that  is  very  dubious,  dark,  or 
controverted.  It  should  be  of  such  a  nature  as  to  chal- 
lenge the  assent  of  every  ingenuous  and  sober  judgment; 
never  a  point  of  mere  speculation ;  but  tending  to  inform 
or  to  remind  the  reader  of  the  proper  means  that  lead  to 
happiness. 

The  reason  why  fable  has  been  so  much  esteemed  in  all 
ages  and  in  all  countries,  is  perhaps  owing  to  the  polite 
manner  in  which  its  maxims  are  conveyed.     The  very  ar- 


AN  ESSAY  ON  FABLE.  27 

tide  of  giving  instruction  supposes  at  least  a  superiority 
of  wisdom  in  the  adviser;  a  circumstance  by  no  means 
favorable  to  the  ready  admission  of  advice.  It  is  the  pe- 
culiar excellence  of  Fable  to  wave  this  air  of  superiority : 
it  leaves  the  reader  to  collect  the  moral ;  who,  by  thus  dis- 
covering more  than  is  shown  him,  finds  his  principle  of 
self-love  gratified,  instead  of  being  disgusted.  The  at- 
tention is  either  taken  ofif  from  the  adviser;  or,  if  other- 
wise, we  are  at  least  flattered  by  his  humility  and  address. 

Besides,  instruction,  as  conveyed  by  Fable,  does  not 
only  lay  aside  its  lofty  mien  and  supercilious  aspect,  but 
appears  dressed  in  all  the  smiles  and  graces  which  can 
strike  the  imagination,  or  engage  the  passions.  It  pleases 
in  order  to  convince;  and  it  imprints  its  moral  so  much 
the  deeper,  in  proportion  as  it  entertains ;  so  that  we  may 
be  said  to  feel  our  duties  at  the  very  instant  that  we  com- 
prehend them. 

I  am  very  sensible  with  what  difficulty  a  Fable  is 
brought  to  a  strict  agreement  with  the  foregoing  account 
of  it.  This,  however,  ought  to  be  the  writer's  aim.  It  is 
the  simple  manner  in  which  the  Morals  of  ^sop  are  in- 
terwoven with  his  Fables,  that  distinguishes,  and  gives 
him  the  preference  to  all  other  mythologists.  His  moun- 
tain delivered  of  a  mouse^  produces  the  Moral  of  his  Fa- 
ble, in  ridicule  of  pompous  pretenders;  and  his  crow, 
when  she  drops  her  cheese,  lets  fall,  as  it  were  by  acci- 
dent, the  strongest  admonition  against  the  power  of  flat- 
tery. There  is  no  need  of  a  separate  sentence  to  explain 
it;  no  possibility  of  impressing  it  deeper,  by  that  load  we 
too  often  see  of  accumulated  reflections.  Indeed  the  Fa- 
ble of  the  Cock  and  the  precious  stone  is  in  this  respect 
very  exceptionable.  The  lesson  it  inculcates  is  so  dark 
and  ambiguous,  that  different  expositors  have  given  it 
quite  opposite  interpretations;  some  imputing  the  cock's 


28  AN  ESSAY  ON  FABLE. 

rejection  of  the  diamond  to  his  wisdom,  and  others  to 
liis  ignorance. 

Strictly  speaking  tlien,  one  should  render  needless  any 
detached  or  explicit  moral,  ^sop,  the  father  of  this 
kind  of  writing,  disclaimed  any  such  assistance.  It  is  the 
province  of  Fable  to  give  it  birth  in  the  mind  of  the  per- 
son for  whom  it  is  intended;  otherwise  the  precept  is  di- 
rect and  obvious,  contrary  to  the  nature  and  end  of  alle- 
gory. 

After  all,  the  greatest  fault  in  any  composition  (for  I 
can  hardly  allow  that  name  to  riddles)  is  obscurity.  There 
can  be  no  purpose  answered  by  a  w'ork  that  is  unintelli- 
gible. Annibal  Carracci  and  Raphael  himself,  rather  than 
risk  so  unpardonable  a  fault,  have  admitted  verbal  expla- 
nations into  some  of  their  best  pictures.  It  must  be  con- 
fessed, that  every  story  is  not  capable  of  telling  its  own 
Moral.  In  a  case  of  this  nature,  and  this  only,  it  should 
be  expressly  introduced.  Perhaps  also,  where  the  point 
is  doubtful,  we  ought  to  show  enough  for  the  less  acute, 
even  at  the  hazard  of  showing  too  much  for  the  more 
sagacious;  who,  for  this  very  reason,  that  they  are  more 
sagacious,  wall  pardon  a  superfluity  which  is  such  to  them 
alone. 

But  on  these  occasions,  it  has  been  matter  of  dispute, 
whether  the  moral  is  better  introduced  at  the  end  or  be- 
ginning of  a  Fable,  ^sop,  as  I  said  before,  universally 
rejected  any  separate  Moral.  Those  we  now  find  at  the 
opening  of  his  Fables,  were  placed  there  by  other  hands. 
Among  the  ancients,  Phaedrus;  and  Gay,  among  the 
moderns,  inserted  theirs  at  the  beginning;  La  Motte  pre- 
fers them  at  the  conclusion;  and  Fontaine  disposes  of 
them  indiscriminately,  at  the  beginning  or  end,  as  he  feels 
convenient.     If,  amidst  the  authority  of  such  great  names, 


AN  ESSAY  ON  FABLE.  29 

I  might  venture  to  mention  my  own  opinion,  I  should 
rather  prefix  them  as  an  introduction,  than  add  them 
as  an  appendage.  For  I  would  neither  pay  my  reader 
nor  myself  so  bad  a  compliment,  as  to  suppose,  after  he 
had  read  the  Fable,  that  he  was  not  able  to  discover  its 
meaning.  Besides,  when  the  Moral  of  a  Fable  is  not  very 
prominent  and  striking,  a  leading  thought  at  the  begin- 
ning puts  the  reader  in  a  proper  track.  He  knows  the 
game  which  he  pursues:  and,  like  a  beagle  on  a  warm 
scent,  he  follows  the  sport  with  alacrity,  in  proportion  to 
his  intelligence.  On  the  other  hand,  if  he  have  no  pre- 
vious intimation  of  the  design,  he  is  puzzled  throughout 
the  Fable;  and  cannot  determine  upon  its  merit  without 
the  trouble  of  a  fresh  perusal.  A  ray  of  light,  imparted 
at  first,  may  show  him  the  tendency  and  propriety  of 
every  expression  as  he  goes  along;  but  while  he  travels 
in  the  dark  no  wonder  if  he  stumble  or  mistake  his  way. 


III. 


OF    THE     ACTION     AND     INCIDENTS      PROPER    FOR    A 

FABLE. 

In  choosing  the  action  or  allegory,  three  conditions  are 
altogether  expedient.  I.  It  must  be  clear:  that  is,  it 
ought  to  show  without  equivocation,  precisely  and  ob- 
viously, what  we  intend  should  be  understood.  II.  It 
must  be  one  and  entire.  That  is,  it  must  not  be  composed 
of  separate  and  independent  actions,  but  must  tend  in  all 
its  circumstances  to  the  completion  of  one  single  event. 
III.  It  must  be  natural ;  that  is,  founded,  if  not  on  Truth, 
at  least  on  probability;  on  popular  opinion;  on  that  rela- 


30  AN   ESSAY  ON  FABLE. 

tion  and  analogy  which  things  bear  to  one  another,  when 
we  have  gratuitously  endowed  them  with  the  human  fac- 
ulties of  speech  and  reason.  And  these  conditions  are 
taken  from  the  nature  o^  the  human  mind;  which  cannot 
endure  to  be  embarrassed,  to  be  bewildered,  or  to  be  de- 
ceived. 

A  Fable  ofTends  against  perspicuity,  when  it  leaves  us 
doubtful  what  Truth  the  Fabulist  intended  to  convey.  We 
have  a  striking  example  of  this  in  Dr.  Croxall's  Fable  of 
the  creaking  wheel.  A  coachman,  says  he,  hearing  one 
of  his  wheels  creak,  was  surprised;  but  more  especially, 
when  he  perceived  that  it  w^as  the  w'orst  wheel  of  the 
whole  set,  and  which  he  thought  had  but  little  pretence  to 
take  such  a  liberty.  But,  upon  his  demanding  the  reason 
why  it  did  so,  the  wdieel  replied,  that  it  was  natural  for 
people  who  labored  under  any  affliction  or  calamity  to 
complain.  Who  would  imagine  this  Fable  designed,  as 
the  author  informs  us,  for  an  admonition  to  repress,  or 
keep  our  complaints  to  ourselves;  or  if  we  must  let  our 
sorrows  speak,  to  take  care  it  be  done  in  solitude  and  re- 
tirement. The  story  of  this  Fable  is  not  well  imagined; 
at  least  if  meant  to  support  the  moral  which  the  au<:hor 
has  drawn  from  it. 

A  Fable  is  faulty  in  respect  to  unity,  when  the  several 
circumstances  point  different  ways;  and  do  not  center, 
like  so  many  lines,  in  one  distinct  and  unambiguous 
moral.  An  example  of  this  kind  is  furnished  by  La 
Motte  in  the  observation  he  makes  upon  Fontaine's  two 
pigeons.  These  pigeons  had  a  reciprocal  affection  for 
each  other.  One  of  them  showing  a  desire  to  travel,  was 
earnestly  opposed  by  his  companion,  but  in  vain.  The 
former  sets  out  upon  his  rambles,  and  encounters  a  thous- 
and unforeseen  dangers;  while  the  latter  suffers  near  as 
much  at  home,  through  his  apprehensions  for  his  roving 


AN  ESSAY  ON  FABLE.  3 1 

friend.  However,  our  traveler,  after  many  hairbreadth 
escapes,  returns  at  length  in  safety,  and  the  two  pigeons 
are,  once  again,  mutually  happy  in  each  other's  com- 
pany. Now  the  application  of  this  Fable  is  utterly  vague 
and  uncertain,  for  want  Oi  circumstances  to  determine 
whether  the  author  designed  principally  to  represent  the 
dangers  of  the  Traveler:  his  friend's  anxiety  during  his 
absence;  or  their  mutual  happiness  on  his  return.  Where- 
as had  the  traveling  pigeon  met  with  no  disasters  on  his 
way,  but  only  found  all  pleasures  insipid  for  want  of  his 
friend's  participation ;  and  had  he  returned  from  no  other 
motive  than  a  desire  of  seeing  him  again,  the  whole  then 
had  happily  closed  in  this  one  conspicuous  inference,  that 
the  presence  of  a  real  friend  is  the  most  desirable  of  all 
gratifications. 

The  last  rule  I  have  mentioned,  that  a  Fable  should  be 
natural,  may  be  violated  several  Avays.  It  is  opposed, 
when  we  make  creatures  enter  into  unnatural  associa- 
tions. Thus  the  sheep  or  the  goat  must  not  be  made  to 
hunt  with  the  lion;  and  it  is  yet  more  absurd,  to  repre- 
sent the  lion  as  falling  in  love  with  the  forester's  daughter. 
It  is  infringed,  by  ascribing  to  them  appetites  and  pas- 
sions that  are  not  consistent  with  their  known  characters; 
or  else  by  employing  them  in  such  occupations,  as  are 
foreign  and  unsuitable  to  their  respective  natures.  A  fox 
should  not  be  said  to  long  for  grapes;  a  hedge-hog  pre- 
tend to  drive  away  flies;  nor  a  partridge  offer  his  service 
to  delve  in  the  vineyard.  A  ponderous  iron  and  an 
earthen  vase  should  not  swim  together  down  a  river;  and 
he  that  should  make  his  goose  lay  golden  eggs^  would 
show  a  luxuriant  fancy,  but  very  little  judgment.  In  ^, 
short,  nothing  besides  the  faculty  of  speech  and  reason, 
which  fable  has  been  allowed  to  confer  even  upon  inani- 
mates, must  ever  contradict  the  nature  of  things. 


32  AN  ESSAY  OM  FABLE. 

Opinions  indeed,  although  erroneous,  if  "ihey  either  are, 
or  have  been  universally  received,  ma}  afford  sufficient 
foundation  for  a  liable.  The  mandrake,  here,  may  be 
made  to  utter  groans  and  the  dying  swan  to  pour  forth 
her  elegy.  The  sphinx  and  the  hcenix,  the  siren  and  the 
centaur,  have  all  the  existence  that  is  requisite  for  fable. 
Nay,  the  goblin,  the  fairy,  and  even  the  man  in  the  moon, 
may  have  each  his  province  allotted  to  him,  so  it  l)c  not  an 
improper  one.  Here  the  notoriety  of  opinion  supplies 
the  place  of  fact,  and  in  this  manner  truth  may  fairly  be 
deduced  from  falsehood. 

Concerning  the  incidents  proper  for  Fable,  it  is  a  rule 
without  exception,  that  they  ought  always  to  be  few;  it 
being  foreign  to  the  nature  of  this  composition,  to  admit 
of  much  variety.  Yet  a  Fable  with  only  one  single  inci- 
dent, may  possibly  appear  too  naked,  i!"  ^sop  and  Phae- 
drus  are  herein  sometimes  too  sparing,  Fontaine  and  La 
]\Iotte  are  as  often  too  profuse.  In  this,  as  in  most  other 
matters,  a  medium  certainly  is  best,  ^n  a  word,  the  inci- 
dents should  not  only  be  few  but  short;  and  like  those  in 
the  Fables  of  "the  swallow  and  other  birds,"  '"the  miller 
and  his  son,"  and  "the  court  and  country  mouse,"  they 
'must  naturally  arise  out  of  the  subject,  and  serve  to  illus- 
trate and  enforce  the  Moral. 


AN  ESSAY  ON  FABLE.  33 

IV. 

OF  THE  PERSONS,  CHARACTERS,  AND  SENTIMENTS 
OF  FABLE. 

The  race  of  animals  first  present  themselves,  as  the 
proper  actors  in  this  little  drama.  They  are  indeed  a 
species  that  approaches,  in  many  respects,  so  near  to  our 
own,  that  we  need  only  lend  them  speech,  in  order  to  pro- 
duce a  striking  resemblance.  It  would,  however,  be  un- 
reasonable to  expect  a  strict  and  universal  similitude. 
There  is  a  certain  measure  and  degree  of  analog}',  with 
which  the  most  discerning  reader  will  rest  contented :  for 
instance,  he  will  accept  the  properties  of  animals,  although 
necessary  and  invariable,  as  the  images  of  our  inclina- 
tions, though  never  so  free.  To  require  more  than  this, 
were  to  sap  the  very  foundations  of  allegory;  and  even  to 
deprive  ourselves  of  half  the  pleasure  that  flows  from 
poetry  in  general. 

Solomon  sends  us  to  the  ant,  to  learn  the  wisdom  of  in- 
dustry: and  our  inimitable  ethic  poet  introduces  nature 
herself  as  giving  us  a  familiar  kind  of  counsel. 

Thus  then  to  Man  the  voice  of  Nature  spake: 
"Go,  from  the  Creatures  thy  instructions  take — 
"There  all  the  forms  of  social  union  find, 
"And  thence,  let  reason  late  instruct  mankind." 

He  supposes  that  animals  in  their  native  characters, 
without  the  advantages  of  speech  and  reason  which  are 
assigned  them  by  the  Fabulists,  may  in  regard  to  Morals 
as  well  as  Arts,  become  examples  to  the  human  race.  In- 
deed, I  am  afraid  we  have  so  far  deviated  into  fictitious 
appetites  and  fantastic  manners,  as  to  find  the  expediency 
of  copying  from  them,  that  simplicity  we  ourselves  have 


34  AN  ESSAY  ON  FABLE. 

lost.  If  animals,  in  themselves  may  be  thus  exemplary, 
how  much  more  may  they  be  made  instructive,  under  the 
direction  of  an  able  Fabulist;  who  by  conferring  upon 
them  the  gift  of  language,  contrives  to  make  their  instincts 
more  intelligible  and  their  examples  more  determinate! 

But  these  are  not  his  only  actors.  The  Fabulist  has 
one  advantage  above  all  other  writers  whatsoever;  as  all 
the  works  both  of  art  and  nature  are  more  immediately  at 
his  disposal.  He  has,  in  this  respect,  a  liberty  not  allowed 
to  epic,  or  dramatic  writers;  who  are  undoubtedly  more 
limited  in  the  choice  of  persons  to  be  employed.  He  has 
authority  to  press  into  his  service,  every  kind  of  existence 
under  heaven:  not  only  beasts,  birds,  insects,  and  all  the 
animal  creation;  but  flowers,  shrubs,  trees  and  all  the 
tribe  of  vegetables.  Even  mountains,  fossils,  minerals, 
and  the  inanimate  works  of  nature  discourse  articulately 
at  his  command,  and  act  the  part  whch  he  assigns  them. 
The  virtues,  vices,  and  every  property  of  beings,  receive 
from  him  a  local  habitation  and  a  name.  In  short  he 
may  personify,  bestow^  life,  speech  and  action  on  whatever 
he  thinks  proper. 

It  is  easy  to  imagine  what  a  source  of  novelty  and  va- 
riety this  must  open,  to  a  genius  capable  of  conceiving, 
and  of  employing,  these  ideal  persons  in  a  proper  man- 
ner: what  an  opportunity  it  affords  him  to  diversify  his 
images,  and  to  treat  the  fancy  wnth  change  of  ob- 
jects; while  he  strengthens  the  understanding,  or  regu- 
lates the  passions,  by  a  succession  of  Truths.  To 
raise  beings  like  these  into  a  state  of  action  and  intelli- 
gence, gives  the  Fabulist  an  undoubted  claim  to  that 
first  character  of  the  poet,  a  Creator.  I  rank  him  not, 
as  I  said  before,  with  the  writers  of  epic  or  dramatic 
poems;  but  the  maker  of  pins  or  needles  is  as  much  an  art- 
ist, as  an  anchor-smith:  and  a  painter  in  miniature  may 


AN  ESSAY  ON  FABLE.  35 

show  as  much  skill,  as  he  who  paints  in  the  largest  pro- 
portions. 

When  these  persons  are  once  raised,  we  must  carefully 
enjoin  them  proper  tasks;  and  assign  them  sentiments 
and  language  suitable  to  their  several  natures,  and  respec- 
tive properties. 

A  raven  should  not  be  extolled  for  her  voice,  nor  a 
bear  be  represented  with  an  elegant  shape.  It  were  a 
very  obvious  instance  of  absurdity,  to  paint  a  hare,  cruel : 
or  a  wolf,  compassionate.  An  ass  were  but  ill  qualified  to 
be  General  of  an  army,  though  he  may  well  enough  serve 
perhaps  for  one  of  the  trumpeters.  But  so  long  as  popu- 
lar opinion  allows  to  the  lion,  magnanimity;  rage,  to  the 
tiger;  strength,  to  the  mule;  cunning,  to  the  fox;  and  buf- 
foonery, to  the  monkey;  why  may  not  they  support  the 
characters  of  an  Agamemnon,  Achilles,  Ajax,  Ulysses 
and  Tliersites?  The  truth  is,  when  Moral  actions  are 
with  judgment  attributed  to  the  brute  creation,  we  scarce 
perceive  that  nature  is  at  all  violated  by  the  Fabulist.  He 
appears,  at  most,  to  have  only  translated  their  language. 
His  lions,  wolves,  and  foxes,  behave  and  argue  as  those 
creatures  w'ould,  had  they  originally  been  endowed  with 
the  human  faculties  of  speech  and  reason. 

But  greater  art  is  yet  required,  whenever  we  personify 
inanimate  beings.  Here  the  copy  so  far  deviates  from 
the  great  lines  of  nature,  that  without  the  nicest  care,  rea- 
son will  revolt  against 'the  fiction.  However,  beings  of 
this  sort,  managed  ingeniously  and  with  address,  recom- 
mend the  Fabulist's  invention  by  the  grace  of  novelty  and 
of  variety.  Indeed  the  analog}-  between  things  natural 
and  artificial,  animal  and  inanimate,  is  often  so  very  strik- 
ing, that  we  can,  with  seeming  propriety,  give  passions 
and  sentiments  to  every  individual  part  of  existence.    Ap- 

3 


36  AN  ESSAY  ON  FABLE. 

pcarance  favors  the  deception.  The  vine  may  be  enam- 
ored of  the  elm;  her  embraces  testify  her  passion.  The 
swelHng  mountain  may,  naturally  enoug'h,  be  delivered  of 
a  mouse.  The  gourd  may  reproach  the  pine,  and  the  sky- 
rocket, insult  the  stars.  The  axe  may  solicit  a  new  han- 
dle of  the  forest;  and  the  moon,  in  her  female  character, 
request  a  fashionable  garment.  Here  is  nothing  incon- 
gruous; nothing  that  shocks  the  reader  with  impropriety. 
On  the  other  hand,  were  the  axe  to  desire  a  perriwig,  and 
the  moon  petition  for  a  pair  of  new  boots;  probability 
would  then  be  violated,  and  the  absurdity  become  too 
glaring. 


V. 

ON  THE  LANGUAGE  OF  FABLE. 

The  most  beautiful  fables  that  ever  were  invented,  may 
be  disfigured  by  the  language  in  which  they  are  clothed. 
Of  this,  poor  .i^sop,  in  some  of  his  English  dresses,  af- 
fords a  melancholy  proof.  The  ordinary  style  of  Fable 
should  be  familiar,  but  also  elegant.  Were  I  to  instance 
any  style  that  I  should  prefer  on  this  occasion,  it  should 
be  that  of  Mr.  Addison's  little  tales  in  the  Spectator.  That 
ease  and  simplicity,  that  conciseness  and  propriety,  that 
subdued  and  decent  humor  he  so  remarkably  discovers 
there ;  seem  to  have  qualified  him  for  a  Fabulist,  almost 
beyond  any  other  writer.     But  to  return. 

The  Familiar,  says  Mr.  LaMotte,  to  whose  ingenious 
essay  I  have  often  been  obliged  in  this  discourse,  is  the 
general  tone,  or  accent  of  fable.  It  was  thought  suffi- 
cient, on  its  first  appearance,  to  lend  the  animals  our 


AN  ESSAY  ON  FABLE.  37 

most  common  language.  Nor  indeed  have  they  any  ex- 
traordinary pretensions  to  the  sublime;  it  being  requisite 
they  should  speak  with  the  same  simplicity  that  they 
behave. 

The  familiar  also  is  more  proper  for  insinuation,  than 
the  elevated;  this  being  the  language  of  reflection,  as  the 
former  is  the  voice  of  sentiment.  We  guard  ourselves 
against  the  one,  but  lie  open  to  the  other;  and  instruction 
will  always  the  most  effectually  sway  us,  when  it  appears 
least  jealous  of  its  rights  and  privileges. 

The  familiar  style  however  that  is  here  required,  not- 
withstanding that  appearance  of  ease  which  is  its  char- 
acter, is  perhaps  more  difficult  to  write,  than  the  more 
elevated  or  sublime.  A  writer  more  readily  perceives 
when  he  has  risen  above  the  common  language;  than  he 
perceives,  in  speaking  that  language,  whether  he  has 
made  the  choice  that  is  most  suitable  to  the  occasion ;  and 
it  is,  nevertheless,  upon  this  happy  choice  depends  all 
the  charm  of  the  familiar.  ]\Ioreover,  the  elevated  style  ' 
deceives  and  seduces,  although  it  be  not  the  best  chosen; 
whereas  the  familiar  can  procure  itself  no  sort  of  respect, 
if  it  be  not  easy,  natural,  just,  delicate,  and  unaflfected. 
A  Fabulist  must  therefore  bestow  great  attention  upon 
his  style :  and  even  labor  it  so  much  the  more,  that  it  may 
appear  to  have  cost  him  no  pains  at  all. 

The  authority  of  Fontaine  justifies  these  opinions  in 
regard  to  style.  His  fables  are  perhaps  the  best  ex- 
amples of  the  genteel  familiar,  as  Sir  Roger  L'Estrange"' 
affords  the  grossest,  of  the  indelicate  and  low.  This 
may  be  familiar,  but  is  also  coarse  and  vulgar ;  and  cannot 
fail  to  disgust  a  reader  that  has  the  least  degree  of  taste 
or  delicacy. 


38  AN  ESSAY  ON  FABLE. 

The  style  of  Fable  then  must  be  simple  and  familiar; 
and  it  must  likewise  be  correct  and  elegant.  By  the 
former,  I  would  advise  that  it  should  not  be  loaded  with 
figure  and  metaphor;  that  the  disposition  of  words  be 
natural;  the  turn  of  sentences,  easy;  and  their  construc- 
tion, unembarrassed.  By  elegance,  I  would  exclude  all 
coarse  and  privincial  terms;  all  afifecited  and  puerile  con- 
ceits; all  obsolete  and  pedantic  phrases.  To  this  I  would 
adjoin,  as  the  word  perhaps  implies,  a  certain  finishing 
polish,  which  gives  a  grace  and  spirit  to  the  whole;  and 
which  though  it  has  always  the  appearance  of  nature 
is  almost  ever  the  effect  of  art. 

But,  notwithstanding  all  that  has  been  said,  there  are 
some  occasions  on  which  it  is  allowable,  and  even  ex- 
pedient, to  change  the  style.  The  language  of  a  Fable 
must  rise  or  fall  in  conformity  to  the  subject.  A  lion, 
when  introduced  in  his  regal  capacity,  must  hold  discourse 
in  a  strain  somewhat  more  elevated  than  a  Country- 
]\Iouse.  The  lioness  then  becomes  his  Queen,  and  the 
beasts  of  the  forest  are  called  his  subjects;  a  method  that 
offers  at  once  to  the  imagination,  both  the  animal  and  the 
person  he  is  designed  to  represent.  Again,  the  buffoon- 
monkey  should  avoid  that  pomp  of  phrase,  which  the  owl 
en:ploys  as  her  best  pretense  to  wisdom.  Unless  the 
style  be  thus  judiciously  varied,  it  will  be  impossible  to 
preserve  a  just  distinction  of  character. 

Descriptions,  at  once  concise  and  pertinent,  add  a  grace 
to  Fable;  but  are  then  most  happy,  when  included  in  the 
action,  whereof  the  Fable  of  Boreas  and  the  sun  affords 
us  an  example.  An  epithet  well  chosen  is  often  a  descrip- 
tion in  itself,  and  so  much  the  more  agreeable,  as  it  the 
less  retards  us,  in  our  pursuit  of  the  catastrophe. 

I  might  enlarge  much  further  on  the  subject,  but  per- 
haps 1  may  appear  to  have  been  too  diffuse  already.     Let 


AN  ESSAY  ON  FABLE.  39 

it  suffice  to  hint,  that  little  strokes  of  humor,  when  arising 
naturally  from  the  subject,  and  incidental  reflections, 
when  kept  in  due  subordination  to  the  principal,  add  a 
value  to  these  compositions.  These  latter  however  should 
be  employed  very  sparingly,  and  with  great  address.  It 
is  scarcely  enough  that  they  naturally  spring  out  of  the 
subject;  they  should  be  such  as  to  appear  necessary  and 
essential  parts  of  the  Fable.  And  when  these  embellish- 
ments, pleasing  in  themselves,  tend  to  illustrate  the  main 
action,  they  then  afiford  that  nameless  grace  remarkable 
in  Fontaine  and  some  few  others,  and  which  persons  of 
the  best  discernment  will  more  easily  conceive,  than  they 
can  explain. 

R.  DODSLEY. 


/ESOP'S  FABLES. 


C^c  mosi  tt>ortf}lc55  persons  arc  generally  tf?e  most 
presuming. 

THE  TREES  AND  THE  BRAMBLE. 

The  Israelites,  ever  murmuring  and  discontented 
under  the  reign  of  Jehovah,  were  desirous  of  having  a 
king,  like  the  rest  of  the  nations.  They  offered  the 
kingdom  to  Gideon,  their  deliverer;  to  him,  and  to  his 
posterity  after  him:  he  generously  refused  their  offer, 
and  reminded  them  that  Jehovah  was  their  king.  When 
Gideon  was  dead,  Abimelech,  his  son  by  a  concubine, 
slew  all  his  other  sons  to  the  number  of  seventy,  Joatham 
alone  escaping;  and  by  the  assistance  of  the  Shechem- 
ites  made  himself  king.  Joatham,  to  represent  to  them 
their  folly,  and  to  show  them  that  the  most  deserving 
are  generally  the  least  ambitious,  whereas  the  worth- 
less grasp  at  power  with  eagerness,  and  exercise  it  with 
insolence  and  tyranny,  spake  to  them  in  the  following 
manner: 

Hearken  unto  me,  ye  men  of  Shechem,  so  may  God 
hearken  unto  you.  The  Trees,  grov»'n  weary  of  the  state 
of  freedom  and  equality  in  which  God  had  placed  them, 
met  together  to  choose  and  to  anoint  a  king  over  them: 
and  they  said  to  the  Olive-tree,  Reign  thou  over  us. 
But  the  Olive-tree  said  unto  them.  Shall  I  quit  my 
fatness  wherewith  God  and  man  is  honored,  to  disquiet 
myself  with  the  cares  of  government,  and  rule  over  the 
Trees?    And  they  said  unto  the  Fig-tree,  Come  thou, 


42  iESOPS  FABLES. 

and  reign  over  us.  But  tlie  Fig-tree  said  unto  them, 
Shall  I  bid  adieu  to  my  sweetness  and  my  pleasant  fruit, 
to  take  upon  me  the  painful  charge  of  royalty,  and  to  be 
set  over  the  Trees?  Then  said  the  Trees  unto  the  Vine, 
Come  thou  and  reign  over  us.  But  the  Vine  said  also 
unto  them,  Shall  I  leave  my  wine,  which  honoreth  God 
and  cheereth  man,  to  bring  upon  myself  nothing  but 
trouble  and  anxiety,  and  to  become  king  of  the  Trees? 
We  are  happy  in  our  present  lot:  seek  some  other  to 
reign  over  you.  Then  said  all  the  Trees  unto  the 
Bramble,  Come  thou  and  reign  over  us.  And  the 
Bramble  said  unto  them,  I  will  be  your  king;  come  ye 
all  under  my  shadow,  and  be  safe;  obey  me,  and  I  will 
grant  you  my  protection.  But  if  you  obey  mc  not,  out 
of  the  Bramble  shall  come  forth  a  fire,  which  shall  devour 
even  the  cedars  of  Lebanon. 


3t  is  better  to  bear  wxtlf  some  bcfccts  in  a  milb  anb  g^an-' 

tie  gopernmcnt,  tfjan  to  risk  tfje  greater  ertls 

of  tyranny  anb  oppression. 

THE   FROGS    PETITIONLXG   JUPITER   FOR   A 

KING. 

As  ^sop  was  traveling  over  Greece,  he  happened  to 
pass  through  Athens  just  after  Pisistratus  had  abolished 
the  popular  state,  and  usurped  a  sovereign  power;  when, 
perceiving  that  the  Athenians  bore  the  yoke,  though 
mild  and  easy,  with  much  impatience,  he  related  to  them 
the  following  fable: 

The  commonwealth  of  Frogs,  a  discontented,  variable 
race,  weary  of  liberty,  and  fond  of  change,  petitioned 


THE  FROGS  PETITIONING  FOR  A  KING. 


43 


Jupiter  to  grant  them  a  king.  The  good-natured  deity, 
in  order  to  indulge  this  their  request,  with  as  little  mis- 
chief to  the  petitioners  as  possible,  threw  them  down  a 


The^  fkpGS 
^  (desiring 

a  KjHG 


Log.  At  first  they  regarded  their  new  monarch  with 
great  reverence,  and  kept  from  him  at  a  most  respectful 
distance:  but  perceiving  his  tame  and  peaceable  disposi- 


44 


iESOP'S  FABLES. 


tioii.  thcv   by  degrees   ventured   to  approach   him   with 
mure  famiHarit\-,  till  at  length  they  conceived  for  liim 


the  utmost  contempt.  In  this  disposition,  they  renewed 
their  request  to  Jupiter,  and  entreated  him  to  bestow 
upon  them  another  king.     The  Thunderer  in  his  wrath 


THE  BELLY  AND  THE  MEMBERS.  45 

sent  them  a  Crane,  who  no  sooner  took  possession  of 
his  new  dominions,  than  he  began  to  devour  his  subjects 
one  after  another  in  a  most  capricious  and  tyrannical 
manner.  They  were  now  far  more  dissatisfied  than  be- 
fore; when  applying  to  Jupiter  a  third  time,  they  were 
dismissed  with  being  told  that  the  evil  they  complained 
of  they  had  imprudently  brought  upon  themselves;  and 
that  they  had  no  other  remedy  now  but  to  submit  to  it 
with  patience. 


XDe  severely  censure  tfjat  tn  otijers,  tnljicfj  u)e  ourselpes 
practice  tpitt^out  scruple. 

THE  WOLF  AND  THE  SHEPHERDS. 

A  Wolf,  says  Plutarch,  peeping  into  a  hut,  where 
a  company  of  Shepherds  were  regaling  themselves  with 
a  joint  of  mutton;  Lord,  said  he,  what  a  clamor  would 
these  men  have  raised  if  they  had  caught  me  at  such  a 
banquet ! 


CF?e  folly  of  tr>isljing  to  toitljljolb  our  part  from  tl?e  sup= 
port  of  ciuil  got»ernment. 

THE  BELLY  AND  THE  MEMBERS. 

Menenius  Agrippa,  a  Roman  consul,  being  deputed 
by  the  senate  to  appease  a  dangerous  tumult  and  sedi- 
tion of  the  people,  who  refused  to  pay  the  taxes  neces- 
sary for  carrying  on  the  business  of  the  state,  con- 
vinced them  of  their  folly  by  delivering  to  them  the 
following  fable: 


.j6 


iESOP'S  FABLES, 


My  friends  and  countrvnicn,  said  he,  attend  to  my 
words.  It  once  happened  that  the  members  of  the 
human  body,  taking  some  exception  at  the  conduct  of 
the  Belly,  resolved  no  longer  to  grant  him  the  usual  sup- 
plies. The  Tongue  first,  in  a  seditious  speech,  aggra- 
vated their  grievances;  and  after  highly  extolling  the 
activity  and  diligence  of  the  Hands  and  Feet,  set  forth 
how  hard  and  unreasonable  it  was,  that  the  fruits  of  their 


labor  should  be  squandered  away  upon  the  insatiable 
cravings  of  a  fat  and  indolent  paunch,  which  was  en- 
tirely useless,  and  unable  to  do  anything  towards  help- 
ing himself.  This  speech  was  received  with  unanimous 
applause  by  all  the  members.  Immediately  the  Hands 
declared  they  would  work  no  more :  the  Feet  determined 
to  carrv  no  farther  the  load  with  which  thev  had  hith- 


THE  FOX  AND  THE  HEDGEHOG.  47 

erto  been  oppressed;  nay,  the  very  Teeth  refused  to 
prepare  a  single  morsel  more  for  his  use.  In  this  dis- 
tress the  Belly  besought  them  to  consider  maturely,  and 
not  foment  so  senseless  a  rebellion.  There  is  none  of 
you,  says  he,  but  may  be  sensible  that  whatsoever  you 
bestow  upon  me  is  immediately  converted  to  your  use, 
and  dispersed  by  me  for  the  good  of  you  all  into  every 
limb.  But  he  remonstrated  in  vain;  for  during  the 
clamors  of  passion  the  voice  of  reason  is  always  unre- 
garded. It  being  therefore  impossible  for  him  to  quiet 
the  tumult,  he  was  starved  for  want  of  their  assistance, 
and  the  body  wasted  away  to  a  skeleton.  The  Limbs, 
grown  weak  and  languid,  were  sensible  at  last  of  their 
error,  and  would  fain  have  returned  to  their  respective 
duty,  but  it  was  now  too  late;  death  had  taken  posses- 
sion of  the  whole,  and  they  all  perished  together. 


ITTc  sfjoulb  u?ell  consiber,  wl}dl}cv  tijc  remoDal  of  a 
present  er>tl  bozs  not  tenb  to  probuce  a  greater. 

THE  FOX  AND  THE  HEDGEHOG. 

Aristotle  informs  us  that  the  following  fable  was 
spoken  by  /Esop  to  the  Samians,  on  a  debate  upon 
changing  their  ministers,  who  were  accused  of  plun- 
dering the  commonwealth: 

A  Fox  swimming  across  a  river,  happened  to  be  en- 
tangled in  some  weeds  that  grew  near  the  shore,  from 
which  he  was  unable  to  extricate  himself.  As  he  lay  thus 
exposed  to  whole  swarms  of  flies,  who  were  galling  him 
and  sucking  his  blood,  a  Hedgehog,  observing  his  dis- 


48 


yESOPS  FABLES 


tress,  kindly  offered  to  drive  them  away.  By  no  means, 
said  the  Fox;  for  if  these  should  be  chased  away,  who 
are  already  sufttciently  gorged,  another  more  hungry 
swarm  would  succeed,  and  I  should  be  robbed  of  every 
remaining  drop  of  l^lood  in  my  veins. 


THE  FOX  AND  THE  RAVEN. 


49 


IPfjereuer  flattery  gains  abmtssion,  it  seems  to  banis^ 
common  sense. 

THE  FOX  AND  THE  RAVEN. 

A  Fox  observing  a  Raven  perched  on  the  branch  of  a 
tree,  with  a  fine  piece  of  cheese  in  her  mouth,  immedi- 
ately began  to  consider  how  he  might  possess  himself  of 
so  delicious  a  morsel.  Dear  madam,  said  he,  I  am 
extremely  glad  to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  this 
morning:  your  beautiful  shape,  and  shining  feathers  ar'e 
the  delight  of  my  eyes;  and  would  you  condescend  to 
favor  me  with  a  song?  I  doubt  not  but  your  voice  is 
equal  to  the  rest  of  your  accomplishments.  Deluded 
with  this  flattering  speech,  the  transported  Raven  opened 
her  mouth,  in  order  to  give  him  a  specimen  of  her  pipe, 
when  down  dropped  the  cheese:  which  the  Fox  imme- 
diately snatching  up,  bore  away  in  triumph,  leaving  the 
Raven  to  lament  her  credulous  vanitv  at  her  leisure. 


50  yESOP'S  FABLES. 


Wc   sl^oulb   ahuays   reflect,    before    tuc   rally   anotf^er, 
ipljetljer  ivc  can  bear  to  I^are  tl^e  jest  retorteb. 

THE  FOX  AND  THE  STORK. 

The  Fox,  though  in  general  more  inchned  to  roguery 
than  wit,  had  once  a  strong  incHnation  to  play  the  wag 
with  his  neighbor,  the  Stork.  He  accordingly  invited  her 
to  dinner  in  great  form;  but  when  it  came  upon  the 
table,  the  Stork  found  it  consisted  entirely  of  different 
soups,  served  up  in  broad  shallow  dishes,  so  that  she 
could  only  dip  in  the  end  of  her  bill,  but  could  not  pos- 
sibly satisfy  her  hunger.  The  Fox  lapped  it  up  very 
readily,  and  every  now  and  then,  addressing  himself  to 
his  guest,  desired  to  know  how  she  liked  her  entertain- 
ment; hoped  that  everything  was  seasoned  to  her  taste; 
and  protested  he  was  very  sorry  to  see  her  eat  so  spar- 
ingly. The  Stork,  perceiving  she  was  played  upon,  took 
no  notice,  but  pretended  to  like  every  dish  extremely: 
and  at  parting  pressed  the  Fox  so  earnestly  to  return 
her  visit,  that  he  could  not  in  civility  refuse.  When  the 
day  arrived,  he  repaired  to  his  appointment;  but  to  his 
great  mortification,  when  dinner  appeared,  he  found  it 
composed  of  minced  meat,  served  up  in  long  narrow- 
necked  glasses;  so  that  he  was  only  tantalized  with  the 
sight  of  what  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  taste.  The 
Stork  thrust  in  her  long  bill,  and  helped  herself  very 
plentifully;  then  turning  to  Reynard,  who  was  eagerly 
licking  the  outside  of  a  jar  where  some  sauce  had  been 
spilled — I  am  very  glad,  said  she,  smiling,  that  you 
seem  to  have  so  good  an  appetite;  I  hope  you  will  make 
as  hearty  a  dinner  at  my  table  as  I  did  the  other  day 
at  yours.     Reynard  hung  down  his  head,  and  looked  very 


THE  FOX  AND  THE  STORK. 


51 


much  displeased.  Nay,  nay,  said  the  Stork,  don't  pretend 
to  be  out  of  humor  about  the  matter:  they  that  cannot 
take  a  jest,  should  never  make  one. 


52 


iESOP'S  FABLES. 


Co  aim  at  figiure  by  tl}<i  means  citfjcr  of  borron?cb  w\t, 

or  borromeb  money,  goneralli)  subjects  us  at 

last  to  tenfolb  ribicule. 

THE  DAW  WITH  BORROWED  FEATHERS. 

A  pragmatical  Jackdaw  was  vain  enough  to  imagine 
that  he  wanted  nothing  but  the  dress  to  render  him  as 
elegant  a  bird  as  the  Peacock.  Puffed  up  with  this  wise 
conceit,  he  plumed  himself  with  a  sufficient  quantity  of 
their  most  beautiful  feathers,  and  in  this  borrowed  garb, 
forsaking  his  old  companions,  endeavored  to  pass  for  a 
Peacock.  But  he  no  sooner  attempted  to  associate  with 
these  genteel  creatures  than  an  affected  strut  betrayed 
the  vain  pretender.  The  offended  Peacocks,  plucking 
from  him  their  degraded  feathers,  soon  stripped  him  of 
his  gentility,  reduced  him  to  a  mere  Jackdaw,  and  drove 
him  back  to  his  brethren ;  by  whom  he  was  now  equally 
despised,  and  justly  punished  with  general  derision  and 
contempt. 


THE  WOLF  AND  THE  LAMB. 


55 


Cf?ose  tr>{?o  bo  not  feci  tf?c  sentiments  of  f^umantty,  mill 
sclbom  listen  to  tije  picas  of  reason. 


THE  WOLF  AND  THE  LAMB 

A  Wolf  and  a  Lamb  were  accidentally  quenching  their 
thirst  togetlier  at  the  same  rivulet.  The  Wolf  stood 
towards  the  head  of  the  stream,  and  the  Lamb  at  some 
distance  below.  The  injurious  beast,  resolved  on  a  quar- 
rel, fiercely  demands,  How  dare  you  disturb  the  water 


which  I  am  drinking?  The  poor  Lamb,  all  trembling, 
replies,  How,  I  beseech  you,  can  that  possibly  be  the 
case,  since  the  current  sets  from  you  to  me?  Discon- 
certed by  the  force  of  truth,  he  changes  the  accusation. 
Six  months  ago,  says  he,  you  vilely  slandered  me.  Im- 
possible, returns  the  Lamb,  for  I  was  not  then  born. 
Xo  matter;  it  was  your  father  then,  or  some  of  your 
relations:  and  immediately  seizing  the  innocent  lamb, 
he  tore  him  to  pieces. 


54  ^SOP'S  FABLES. 

3t  is-  unjuft  anb  cruel  to  raise  ourselrcs  mirtlj  at  tFjc 
expense  of  anotFjer's  \>Qacc  anb  Ijayip'mcss. 

THE  BOYS  AND  THE  FROGS. 

On  the  margin  of  a  large  lake,  which  was  inhabited 
by  a  great  number  of  Frogs,  a  company  of  Boys  hap- 
pened to  be  at  play.  Their  diversion  was  duck  and  drake; 
and  whole  volleys  of  stones  were  whirled  into  the  water, 
to  the  great  annoyance  and  danger  of  the  poor  terrified 
Frogs.  At  length,  one  of  the  most  hardy,  lifting  his 
head  above  the  surface  of  the  lake;  Ah,  dear  children, 
said  he,  why  will  you  learn  so  soon  the  cruel  practices 
of  your  race?  Consider,  I  beseech  you,  that,  though 
this  may  be  sport  to  you,  it  is  death  to  us. 


Co  raise  uncommon  e.vpectations,  renbcrs  an  orbinary 
erent  ribiculous. 

THE  MOUNTAIN  IN  LABOR. 

A  rumor  once  prevailed  that  a  neighboring  Mountain 
was  in  labor;  it  was  afifirmed  that  she  had  been  heard 
to  utter  prodigious  groans;  and  a  general  expectation 
had  been  raised  that  some  extraordinary  birth  was  at 
hand.  Multitudes  flocked  with  much  eagerness  to  be 
witnesses  of  the  wonderful  event:  one  expecting  her  to 
be  delivered  of  a  giant;  another  of  some  enormous  mon- 
ster; and  all  were  suspended  in  earnest  expectation  of 
somewhat  grand  and  astonishing.  When,  after  waiting 
with  great  impatience  a  considerable  time,  behold!  out 
crept  a  little  ridiculous  Mouse. 


THE  MOUNTAIN  IN  LABOR. 


55 


56  yESOPS  FABLES. 

Co  rely  principally  upon  our  own  biliaonco  in  matters 
il}a\  concern  ourselues  alone. 

THE  LARK  AXD  HER  YOUNG. 

A  Lark  having  built  her  nest  in  a  field  of  corn,  it  grew 
ripe  before  her  young  were  well  able  to  fly.  Appre- 
hensive for  their  safety,  she  enjoined  them,  while  she 
went  out  in  order  to  provide  for  their  subsistence,  to 
listen  very  attentively,  if  they  should  hear  any  discourse 
concerning  the  reaping  of  the  field.  At  her  return  they 
told  her,  that  the  farmer  and  his  son  had  been  there,  and 
had  agreed  to  send  to  some  of  their  neighbors  to  assist 
them  in  cutting  it  down  the  next  day.  And  so  they 
depend,  it  seems,  upon  neighbors,  said  the  mother: 
very  well;  then  I  think  we  have  no  occasion  to  be 
afraid  of  to-morrow.  The  next  day  she  went  out,  and 
left  with  them  the  same  injunction  as  before.  When  she 
returned  they  acquainted  her  that  the  farmer  and  his 
son  had  again  been  there,  but  as  none  of  their  neighbors 
came  to  their  assistance,  they  had  deferred  reaping  till 
the  next  day,  and  intended  to  send  for  help  to  their 
friends  and  relations.  I  think  we  may  still  venture 
another  day,  says  the  mother;  but,  however,  be  care- 
ful as  before,  to  let  me  know  what  passes  in  my  ab- 
sence. They  now  inform  her  that  the  farmer  and  his 
son  had  a  third  time  visited  the  field,  and,  finding  that 
neither  friend  nor  relation  had  regarded  their  summons, 
they  were  determined  to  come  the  next  morning  and 
cut  it  down  themselves.  Nay  then,  replied  the  Lark, 
it  is  time  to  think  of  removing:  for  as  they  now  depend 
only  upon  themselves  for  doing  their  own  business,  it 
will  undoubtedly  be  performed. 


THE  STAG  DRINKING.  57 

CXn  or>er»greeby  bisposttion  often  subjects  us  to  tl)c  loss 
of  wl}at  n?e  alreaby  possess, 

THE  DOG  AND  THE  SHADOW. 

A  hungry  Spaniel,  having  stolen  a  piece  of  flesh  from 
a  butcher's  shop,  was  carrying  it  across  a  river.  The 
water  being  clear,  and  the  sun  shining  brightly,  he  saw 
his  own  image  in  the  stream,  and  fancied  it  to  be  an- 
other dog,  with  a  more  delicious  morsel:  upon  which, 
unjustly  and  greedily  opening  his  jaws  to  snatch  at  the 
shadow,  he  lost  the  substance. 


Cf?c  false  estimate  tt>e  often  make  in  preferring  our 
ornamental  talents  to  our  useful  ones. 

THE  STAG  DRINKING. 

A  Stag  quenching  his  thirst  in  a  clear  lake,  was  struck 
with  the  beauty  of  his  horns,  which  he  saw  reflected  in 
the  water.  At  the  same  time,  observing  the  extreme 
slenderness  of  his  legs;  What  a  pity  it  is,  said  he,  that 
so  fine  a  creature  should  be  furnished  with  so  despicable 
a  set  of  spindle  shanks!  What  a  truly  noble  animal  I 
should  be,  were  my  legs  in  any  degree  answerable  to 
my  horns!  In  the  midst  of  this  soliloquy,  he  was 
alarmed  with  the  cry  of  a  pack  of  hounds.  He  imme- 
diately flies  over  the  forest,  and  left  his  pursuers  so  far 
Behind  that  he  might  probably  have  escaped;  but,  tak- 
ing into  a  thick  wood,  his  horns  were  entangled  in 
the  branches,  where  he  was  held  till  the  hounds  came 
up,  and  tore  him  in  pieces.     In  his  last  moments  he 


58 


iESOPS   FABLES. 


thus  exclaimed:  How  ill  do  we  judge  of  our  own  true 
advantages!  The  kgs  which  I  despised  would  have 
borne  nic  away  in  safety,  had  not  my  favorite  antlers 
betraved  me  to  ruin. 


THE  SWALLOW  AND  OTHER  BIRDS. 


59 


Some  wxli  listen  to  no  conmction  but  toljat  tfjey  beripe 
from  fatal  experience. 

THE  SWALLOW  AND  OTHER  BIRDS. 


A  Swallow,  observing  a  farmer  employed  in  sowing 
hemp,  called  the  little  birds  together,  informed  them 
what  he  was  about,  and  told  them  that  hemp  was  the 
material  from  which  the  nets,  so  fatal  to  the  feathered 
race,  were  composed:  advising  them  unanimously  to 
join  in  picking  it  up,  in  order  to  prevent  the  conse- 
quences. The  birds,  either  dis-  \p 
believing  his  information,                                ^^ 


or  neglecting  his  ad- 
vice, gave  themselves  no  trou- 
ble about  the  matter.  In  a  little  time  the  hemp  appeared 
above  ground:  the  friendly  Swallow  again  addressed 
himself  to  them,  told  them  it  was  not  yet  too  late,  pro- 
vided they  would  immediately  set  about  the  work,  be- 
fore the  seeds  had  taken  too  deep  root.  But  they  still 
rejecting  his  advice,  he  forsook  their  society,  repaired 
for  safety  to  towns  and  cities,  and  there  built  his  habita- 
tions and  kept  his  residence.  One  day,  as  he  was  skim- 
ming along  the  street,  he  happened  to  see  a  large  parcel 


6o  iESOP  S  FABLES. 

of  those  very  birds,  imprisoned  in  a  cage,  on  the  shoul- 
ders of  a  bird-catcher.  Unhappy  wretches,  said  he, 
you  now  feel  the  punishment  of  your  former  neglect. 
But  those,  who,  having  no  foresight  of  their  own,  de- 
spise the  wholesome  admonitions  of  their  friends,  de- 
serve the  mischiefs  which  their  own  obstinacy  or  negli- 
gence brings  upon  their  heads. 


3t  is  tijc  utmost  extent  of  some  men's  gratitube  to  refrain 
from  oppressing  anb  injuring  their  benefactors. 

THE  WOLF  AND  THE  CRANE. 

A  Wolf  having  with  too  much  greediness  swallowed  a 
bone,  it  unfortunately  stuck  in  his  throat;  and  in  the  vio- 
lence of  his  pain  he  applied  to  several  animals,  earnestly 
entreating  them  to  extract  it.  None  cared  to  hazard  the 
dangerous  experiment,  except  the  Crane,  who,  persuaded 
by  his  solemn  promises  of  a  gratuity,  ventured  to  thrust 
her  enormous  length  of  neck  down  his  throat,  and  suc- 
cessfully performed  the  operation.  When  claiming  the 
recompense;  See  the  unreasonableness  of  some  crea- 
tures, replied  the  Wolf:  have  I  not  suffered  thee  safely 
to  draw  thy  neck  out  of  my  jaws,  and  hast  thou  the  con- 
science to  demand  a  further  reward! 


THE  ASS  AND  THE  LAP-DOG.  6l 


CI)C  folli)  of  attempting  to  recommcnb   oursclrcs  by  a 
bcljarior  foreign  to  our  cljaracter. 

THE  ASS  AND  THE  LAP-DOG. 

An  Ass  who  lived  in  the  same  family  with  a  favorite 
Lap-dog.  observing  the  superior  degree  of  affection 
which  the  little  minion  enjoyed,  imagined  he  had  noth- 
ing more  to  do,  to  obtain  an  equal  share  in  their  good 
graces,  than  to  imitate  the  Lap-dog's  playful  and  endear- 
ing caresses.  Accordingly,  he  began  to  frisk  about  be- 
fore his  master,  kicking  up  his  heels  and  braying,  in 
an  awkward  affectation  of  wantonness  and  pleasantry. 
This  strange  behavior  could  not  fail  of  raising  much 
laughter;  which  the  Ass,  mistaking  for  approbation  and 
encouragement,  He  proceeded  to  leap  upon  his  master's 
breast,  and  began  very  familiarly  to  lick  his  face:  but 
he  was  presently  convinced  by  the  force  of  a  good 
cudgel,  that  what  is  sprightly  and  agreeable  in  one,  may 
in  another  be  justly  censured  as  rude  and  impertinent: 
and  that  the  surest  way  to  gain  esteem  is  for  every  one 
to  act  suitablv  to  his  own  natural  genius  and  character. 


62 


/ESOPS    FABLES. 


H)e  Tiuiy  dll  ncc6  tl^e  assistance  of  our  inferiors;  anb 

sl^oulb  bi)  no  means  consiber  tlje  meanest  amon^j 

tl?em  as  irl^ollij  incapable  of  returning 

an  obligation 

THE  LION  AND  THE  MOUSE. 

A  Lion  by  accident  laid  his  paw  upon  a  poor,  innocent 
Mouse.  The  frightened  little  creature,  imagining  she 
was  just  going  to  be  devoured,  begged  hard  for  her  life, 
urged  that  clemency  was  the  fairest  attribute  of  power, 
and  earnestly  entreated  his  majesty  not  to  stain  his  illus- 
trious claws  with  the  blood  of  so  insignificant  an  animal: 
upon  which  the  Lion  very  generously  set  her  at  liberty. 
It  happened  a  few  days  afterwards  that  the  Lion,  rang- 
ing for  his  prey,  fell  into  the  toils  of  the  hunter.  The 
Mouse  heard  his  roarings,  knew  the  voice  of  her  bene- 
factor, and  immediately  repairing  to  his  assistance, 
gnawed  in  pieces  the  meshes  of  the  net,  and  by  deliver- 
ing her  preserver  convinced  him  that  there  is  no  crea- 
ture so  much  below  another  but  may  have  it  in  his 
power  to  return  a  good  ofifice. 


THE  COUNTRYMAN   AND  THE  SNAKE. 


63 


trijc  folly  of  confcmng  cttf^er  pomer  upon  tfjc  miscl^tct?^ 
0U5,  or  fapors  on  tlje  unbcserptng. 

THE  COUNTRYMAN  AND  THE  SNAKE. 

An  honest  Countryman  observed  a  Snake  lying  under 
a  hedge,  almost  frozen  to  death.  He  was  moved  with 
compassion;  and  bringing  it  home,  he  laid  it  near  the 
fire,  and  gave  it  some  new  milk.    Thus  fed  and  cherished, 


the  creature  presently  began  to  revive:  but  no  sooner 
had  he  recovered  strength  enough  to  do  mischief  than 
he  sprung  upon  the  Countryman's  wife,  bit  one  of  his 
children,  and,  in  short,  threw  the  whole  family  into  con- 
fusion and  terror.  Ungrateful  wretch!  said  the  Man, 
thou  hast  sufficiently  taught  me  how  ill-judged  it  is  to 
confer  benefits  on  the  worthless  and  undeserving.  So 
saying,  he  snatched  up  a  hatchet  and  cut  the  Snake  in 
pieces. 


64 


i^LSOP'S  FABLES. 


(Scntlc  means,  on  many  occasions,  arc  more  effectual 
il}an  riolent  ones. 

THE  SUN  AND  THE  WIND. 


rays,  which,  melting 
our  Traveler  by  de- 
g  r  e  e  s,  at  length 
obliged  him  to  throw 
aside  that  cloak,  which 
all  the  rage  of  ^olus 
could  not  compel  him 
to  resign.  Learn 
hence,  said  Phoebus  to 
the  blustering  god, 
that  soft  and  gentle 
means  will  often  ac- 
complish what  force 
and  fury  can  never  ef- 
fect. 


Phoebus  and  /Eolus  had 
once  a  dispute,  which  of  them 
could  soonest  prevail  with  a 
certain  Traveler  to  part  with 
his  cloak,  ^olus  began  the 
attack,  and  assaulted  him 
with  great  violence.  But  the 
]\Ian,  wrapping  his  cloak  still 
closer  about  him,  doubled  his 
efforts  to  keep  it,  and  went  on 
his  way.  And  now  Phoebus 
darted  his  warm,  insinuating 


THE  WOLF  AND  THE  MASTIFF.  65 

XPc  arc  altrays  reaby  to  censure  fortune  for  tl]e  ill  effects 
of  our  own  carelessness. 

FORTUNE  AND  THE  SCHOOLBOY. 

A  Schoolboy,  fatigued  with  play,  threw  himself  down 
by  the  brink  of  a  deep  pit,  where  he  fell  fast  asleep.  For- 
tune happening  to  pass  by,  and  seeing  him  in  this  dan- 
gerous situation,  kindly  gave  him  a  tap  on  the  shoul- 
der: 'Sly  dear  child,  said  she,  if  you  had  fallen  into 
this  pit,  I  should  have  borne  the  blame,  though  in  fact 
the  accident  would  have  been  wholly  owing  to  your  own 
carelessness. 

Misfortune,  said  a  celebrated  cardinal,  is  but  an- 
other word  for  imprudence.  This  maxim  is  by  no  means 
absolutely  true;  certain,  however,  it  is,  that  mankind 
suffer  more  evils  from  their  own  imprudence  than  from 
events  which  are  not  in  their  power  to  control. 


CI  mere  competence  voitl}  liberty,  is  preferable  to  serpitube 
amib  tfje  .greatest  affluence. 

THE  WOLF  AND  THE  ^L\STIFF. 

A  lean,  half-starved  Wolf  inadvertently  strolled  in  the 
way  of  a  strong,  well-fed  Mastifif.  The  Wolf  being  much 
too  weak  to  act  upon  the  ofifensive,  thought  it  most 
prudent  to  accost  honest  Towser  in  a  friendly  manner: 
and  among  other  civilities,  very  complaisantly  congrat- 
ulated him  on  his  goodly  appearance.  Why,  yes,  re- 
5 


66  iESOP'S  FABLES. 

turned  the  Mastiff,  I  am  indeed  in  tolerable  ease;  and  if 
you  will  follow  me,  you  may  soon  be  altogether  in  as  good 
a  plight.  The  Wolf  pricked  up  his  ears  at  the  proposal 
and  requested  to  be  informed  what  he  must  do  to  earn 
such  plentiful  meals.  Very  little,  replied  the  Mastiff; 
only  drive  away  beggars,  caress  my  master,  and  be  civil 
to  his  family.     To  these  conditions  the  hungry  Wolf  had 


no  objection,  and  very  readily  consented  to  follow  his 
new  acquaintance  wherever  he  would  conduct  him.  As 
they  were  trotting  along,  the  Wolf  observed  that  the  hair 
was  worn  in  a  circle  round  his  friend's  neck;  which 
raised  his  curiosity  to  inquire  what  was  the  occasion  of 
it?  Nothing,  answered  the  Mastiff,  or  a  mere  trifle; 
perhaps  the  collar  to  which  my  chain  is  sometimes 
fastened.      Chain!    replied   the    Wolf,   with    much    sur- 


THE  WASPS  AND  THE  BEES.  6^ 

prise;  it  should  seem  then  that  you  are  not  permitted 
to  rove  about  where  and  when  you  please.  Not  al- 
ways, returned  Towser,  hanging  down  his  head;  but 
what  does  that  signify?  It  signifies  so  much,  re- 
joined the  Wolf,  that  I  am  resolved  to  have  no  share  in 
your  dinners:  half  a  meal  with  liberty,  is  in  my  estima- 
tion preferable  to  a  full  one  without. 


Cl?c  follu  of  arrogatitig  to  ourscbcs  works  of  vo\\\z\\  \x>i 
are  by  no  means  za-!^(x\>\t, 

THE    WASPS    AND    THE    BEES. 

Some  honey-combs  being  claimed  by  a  swarm  of 
Wasps,  the  right  owners  protested  against  their  demand, 
and  the  cause  was  referred  to  a  Hornet.  Witnesses  being 
examined,  they  deposed  that  certain  winged  creatures, 
who  had  a  loud  hum,  were  of  a  yellowish  color,  and  some- 
what like  Bees,  were  observed  a  considerable  time  Cover- 
ing about  the  place  where  this  nest  was  found.  But  this 
did  not  sufBciently  decide  the  question;  for  these  char- 
acteristics, the  Hornet  observed,  agreed  no  less  with  the 
Bees  than  with  the  Wasps,  At  length,  a  sensible  old  Bee 
offered  to  put  the  matter  upon  this  decisive  issue:  Let  a 
place  be  appointed,  said  he,  by  the  court,  for  the  plaintiffs 
and  defendants  to  work  in:  it  will  then  soon  appear  which 
of  us  are  capable  of  forming  such  regular  cells,  and  after- 
wards of  filling  them  with  so  delicious  a  fluid.  The  Wasps 
refusing  to  agree  to  this  proposal,  sufficiently  convinced 
the  judge  on  which  side  the  right  lay,  and  he  decreed  the 
honey-comb  accordingly. 

6 


68  ^SOFS  FABLES. 

Cbc  least  consibcraMo  of  all  manktnb  arc  sclbom  besti= 
tuto  of  self-importance. 

THE  BULL  AXD  THE  GXAT. 

A  conceited  Gnat,  fully  persuaded  of  his  own  impor- 
tance, having  placed  himself  on  the  horn  of  a  Bull,  ex- 
pressed great  uneasiness  lest  his  weight  should  be  incom- 
modious; and  with  much  ceremony  begged  the  Bull's  par- 
don for  the  liberty  he  had  taken;  assuring  him  that  he 
would  immediately  remove,  if  he  pressed  too  hard  upon 
him.  Give  yourself  no  uneasiness  on  that  account,  replied 
the  Bull,  I  beseech  you:  for  as  I  never  perceived  when 
you  sat  down,  I  shall  probably  not  miss  you  whenever 
you  rise  up. 


Cl?e  great  imprubencc  of  an  association  w\ti}  too  por»er= 
ful  allies. 

THE  LION  AND  OTHER  BEASTS  HUNTING  IN 
PARTNERSHIP. 

A  Leopard,  a  Lynx,  and  a  Wolf  were  ambitious  of  the 
honor  of  hunting  with  the  Lion.  His  savage  majesty 
graciously  condescended  to  their  desire,  and  it  was  agreed 
that  they  should  all  have  an  equal  share  in  whatever 
might  be  taken.  They  scour  the  forest,  are  unanimous 
in  the  pursuit,  and,  after  a  very  fine  chase,  pull  down  a 
noble  stag.  It  was  divided  with  great  dexterity  by  the 
Lynx,  into  four  equal  parts;  but  just  as  each  was  going  to 


THE  LION  AND  OTHER   BEASTS. 


69 


secure  his  share — Hold,  says  the  Lion,  let  no  one  presume 
to  serve  himself,  till  he  hath  heard  our  just  and  reasonable 
claims.  1  seize  upon  the  first  quarter  by  virtue  of  my 
prerogative;  the  second  I  think  is  due  to  my  superior  con- 
duct and  courage;  I  cannot  forego  the  third  on  account 
of  the  necessities  of  my  den ;  and  if  any  one  is  inclined  to 
dispute  my  right  to  the  fourth,  let  him  speak.  Awed  by 
the  majesty  of  his  fro'vvn,  and  the  terror  of  his  claws,  they 
silently  withdrew,  resolving  never  to  hunt  again  but  with 
their  equals. 


iESOP'S  FABLES. 


tEF?e  tnbcpcnbciKC  acquircb  by  inbustry,  preferable  to  tijc 
most  splcnbib  state  of  rassalage. 

THE  ANT  AND  THE  FLY. 

An  Ant  and  a  Fly  had  once  a  ridiculous  contest  about 
precedency,  and  were  arguing  which  of  the  two  was  the 
more  honorable:  such  disputes  most  frequently  happen 
amongst  the  lowest  and  most  worthless  creatures.  The 
Fly  expressed  great  resentment,  that  such  a  poor,  crawl- 
ing insect  should  presume  to  lie  basking  in  the  same  sun- 
shine, with  one  so  much  her  superior!  Thou  hast  not 
surely  the  insolence,  said  she,  to  imagine  thyself  of  an 
equal  rank  with  me.  I  am  none  of  your  low  mechanic 
creatures  who  live  by  their  industry;  but  enjoy  in  plenty, 
and  without  labor,  every  thing  that  is  truly  delicious.  I 
place  myself  uncontrolled  upon  the  heads  of  kings ;  I  kiss 
with  freedom  the  lips  of  beauties;  and  feast  upon  the 
choicest  sacrifices  that  are  oflfered  to  the  gods.  To  eat 
with  the  gods,  replied  the  Ant,  and  to  enjoy  the  favors  of 
the  fair  and  the  powerful,  would  be  great  honor  indeed, 
to  one  who  was  an  invited  or  a  welcome  guest ;  but  an  im- 
pertinent intruder,  who  is  driven  out  with  aversion  and 
contempt  wherever  he  appears,  has  not  much  cause  me- 
thinks  to  boast  of  his  privileges.  And  as  to  the  honor  of 
not  laboring  for  your  subsistence ;  here  too  your  boast  is 
only  your  disgrace;  for  hence  it  is,  that  one  half  of  the 
year  you  are  destitute  even  of  the  common  necessaries  of 
life;  whilst  I,  at  the  same  time  retiring  to  the  hoarded 
granaries,  which  my  honest  industry  has  filled,  enjoy 
every  satisfaction,  independent  of  the  favor  either  of  beau- 
ties or  of  kings. 


THE  BEAR  AND  THE  TWO  FRIENDS. 


71 


Corparbs  are  incapable  of  true  frienbsl^ip. 
THE  BEAR  AND  THE  TWO  FRIENDS. 

Two  Friends,  setting  out  together  upon  a  journey 
which  led  through  a  dangerous  desert,  mutually  promised 
to  assist  each  other,  in  whatever  manner  they  might  be 
assaulted.  They  had  not  proceeded  far,  before  they  per- 
ceived a  Bear  making  towards  them  with  great  rage. 
There  were  no  hopes  in  flight;  but  one  of  them,  being 
very  active,   sprung   up  into  a  tree;   upon  which,  the 


other,  throwing  himself  flat  on  the  ground,  held  his 
breath,  and  pretended  to  be  dead;  remembering  to  have 
heard  it  asserted  that  this  creature  wall  not  prey  upon  a 
lifeless  carcass.  The  Bear  came  up,  and  after  smelling  of 
him  some  time,  left  him,  and  went  on.  When  he  was 
fairly  out  of  sight  and  hearing,  the  hero  from  the  tree 
calls  out — Well,   my  friend,  what  said  the  Bear?     He 


72  iESOPS  FABLES. 

seemed  to  wliisper  you  very  closely.  He  did  so,  replied 
the  other;  and  gave  me  this  good  piece  of  advice,  never 
to  associate  with  a  Wretch,  who  in  the  hour  of  danger 
will  desert  his  friend. 


Cittio  minbs  arc  so  mxicl}  elcratcb  hy  an^  abvanta3,<i  gaineb 
opcr  tl^cir  superiors,  as  to  ho  immcbiatclij  t{)ron?n 
off  tf^eir  guarb  against  a  subbcn  cljange  of  fortune. 

THE  LION  AND  THE  GNAT. 

Avaunt!  thou  paltry,  contemptible  insect!  said  a  proud 
Lion  one  day  to  a  Gnat  that  was  frisking  about  in  the  air 
near  his  den.  The  Gnat,  enraged  at  this  unprovoked  in- 
sult, vowed  revenge,  and  immediately  settled  upon  the 
Lion's  neck.  After  having  sufficiently  teased  him  in  that 
quarter,  she  quitted  her  station  and  retired  under  his  bel- 
ly; and  from  thence  made  her  last  and  most  formidable 
attack  in  his  nostrils,  where  stinging  him  almost  to  mad- 
ness, the  Lion  at  length  fell  down,  utterly  spent  with  rage, 
vexation  and  pain.  The  Gnat  having  thus  abundantly 
gratified  her  resentment,  flew  of¥  in  great  exultation ;  but 
in  the  heedless  transports  of  her  success,  not  sufficiently 
attending  to  her  own  security,  she  found  herself  in  her 
retreat  unexpectedly  entangled  in  the  web  of  a  Spider; 
who  rushing  out  instantly  upon  her,  put  an  end  at  once 
to  her  triumph  and  her  life. 

This  fable  instructs  us  never  to  sufifer  success  so  far 
to  transport  us,  as  to  throw  us  oft  our  guard  against  a 
reverse  of  fortune. 


THE  MISER  AND  HIS  TREASURE. 


n 


3t  is  the  enjoyment  of  what  tr>e  possess  that  alone  gire; 
it  any  ualue. 

THE  MISER  AXD  HIS  TREASURE. 


A  Miser  having  scraped  together  a  considerable  sur  of 
money,  by  denying  himseh'  the  common  conveniences  of 
hfe,  was  much  embarrassed  where  to  lodge  it  most  se- 
curely. After  many  perplexing  debates  with  himself, 
he  at  length  fixed  upon  a  corner  in  a  retired  field,  where 
he  deposited  his  treasure,  and  with  it  his  heart,  in  a  hole 
which  he  dug  for  that  purpose.  His  mind  was  now  for 
a  moment  at  ease,  but  he  had  not  proceeded  many  paces 
in  his  way  home,  when  all  his  anxiety  returned,  and  he 
could  not  forbear  going  back  to  see  that  everything  was 
safe.  Tills  he  repeated  again  and  again,  till  he  was  at 
last  observed  by  a  Laborer  who  was  mending  a  hedge  in 


74  yESOP'S  FABLES. 

an  adjacent  meadow.  The  fellow  concluding  that  some- 
thing extraordinary  must  be  the  occasion  of  these  fre- 
quent visits,  marked  the  spot,  and  coming  in  the  night  in 
order  to  examine  it,  he  discovered  the  prize,  and  bore  it 
off  unmolested.  Early  the  next  morning,  the  Miser  again 
renewed  his  visit,  when  finding  his  treasure  gone,  he 
broke  out  into  the  most  bitter  exclamations.  A  Traveler, 
who  happened  to  be  passing  by  at  the  same  time,  was 
moved  by  his  complaints  to  inquire  into  the  occasion  of 
them.  Alas!  replied  the  Miser,  I  have  sustained  the  most 
cruel  and  irreparable  loss !  some  villain  has  robbed  me  of 
a  sum  of  money,  which  I  buried  under  the  stone  no  longer 
ago  than  yesterday.  Buried!  returned  the  Traveler,  with 
surprise,  a  very  extraordinary  method  truly  of  disposing 
of  your  riches!  Why  did  you  not  rather  keep  them  in 
your  house,  that  they  might  be  ready  for  your  daily  oc- 
casions? Daily  occasions!  resumed  the  Miser,  with  an 
air  of  much  indignation ;  do  you  imagine  I  so  little  know 
the  value  of  money,  as  to  suffer  it  to  be  run  away  with  by 
occasions?  On  the  contrary,  I  had  prudently  resolved  not 
to  touch  a  single  shilling  of  it.  If  that  was  your  wise  reso- 
lution, answered  the  Traveler,  I  see  no  sort  of  reason  for 
your  being  thus  afflicted;  it  is  but  putting  this  stone  in 
the  place  of  your  treasure,  and  it  will  answer  all  your  pur- 
poses full  as  well. 


THE  HORSE  AND  THE  STAG. 


75 


vol)om  tr>e  employ  to  execute  our  ren^cance  upon 
otl}<tx5,  may,  aftcxxvaibs,  turn  I^ts  I^anb 
against  oursebes. 

THE  HORSE  AND  THE  STAG. 


Before  the  use  of  horses  was  known  in  the  world,  one 
of  those  noble  animals,  having  been  insulted  by  a  Stag, 
and  finding  himself  unequal  to  his  adversary,  applied  to  a 
Man  for  assistance.  The  request  was  easily  granted,  and 
the  Man  putting  a  bridle  in  his  mouth,  and  mounting 
upon  his  back,  soon  came  up  with  the  Stag,  and  laid  him 
dead  at  his  enemy's  feet.  The  Horse  having  thus  gratified 
his  revenge,  thanked  his  auxiliary:  xA-nd  now  v/ill  I  re- 
turn in  triumph,  said  he,  and  reign  the  undisputed  lord  of 
the  forest.  By  no  means,  replied  the  ]\Ian;  I  shall  have 
occasion  for  your  services,  and  you  must  go  home  with 
me.  So  saying,  he  led  him  to  his  hovel,  where  the  un- 
happy steed  spent  the  remainder  of  his  days  in  a  laborious 
servitude :  sensible,  too  late,  that,  how  pleasing  soever  re- 
venge may  appear,  it  always  costs  more  to  a  generous 
mind  than  the  purchase  is  worth. 


76  ^SOPS  FABLES. 

ilbat   when  me  arc  gotng  to  encounter  bifficultics,  wz 

f-l^oulb  bcpcnb  more  upon  our  oa->n  strcncjtb  than 

tF^e  assistance  of  our  neigtjbors. 

THE  FOX  AND  THE  GOAT. 

A  Fox  and  a  Goat  traveling  together,  in  a  very  sultry 
day,  found  themselves  exceedingly  thirsty,  when  looking 
round  the  country  in  order  to  discover  a  place  where  they 
might  probably  meet  with  water,  they  at  length  descried 
a  clear  spring  at  the  bottom  of  a  pit.  They  both  eagerly 
descended,  and  having  sufficiently  allayed  their  thirst,  it 
was  time  to  consider  how  they  should  get  out.  'Sla.ny 
expedients  for  that  purpose  were  mutually  proposed,  and 
rejected.  At  last  the  crafty  Fox  cried  out  with  great  joy, 
I  have  a  thought  just  struck  into  my  mind,  which  I  am 
confident  will  extricate  us  out  of  our  difficulty;  do  you, 
said  he  to  the  Goat,  only  rear  yourself  up  upon  your  hind 
legs,  and  rest  your  fore  feet  against  the  side  of  the  pit.  In 
this  posture,  I  will  climb  up  to  your  head,  from  whence  1 
shall  be  able,  with  a  spring,  to  reach  the  top;  and  when  I 
am  once  there,  you  are  sensible  it  will  be  very  easy  for 
me  to  pull  you  out  by  the  horns.  The  simple  goat  liked 
tlie  proposal  well;  and  immediately  placed  himself  as 
directed:  by  means  of  which  the  Fox,  without  much  dif- 
ficulty, gained  the  top.  And  now,  said  the  Goat,  give 
me  the  assistance  you  promised.  Thou  old  fool,  replied 
the  Fox,  hadst  thou  but  half  as  much  wit  as  beard,  thou 
wouldst  never  have  believed  that  I  would  hazard  my  own 
life  to  save  thine.  However,  I  will  leave  with  thee  a  piece 
of  advice,  which  may  be  of  service  to  thee  hereafter,  if 
thou  shouldst  have  the  good  fortune  to  make  thy  escape : 
Never  venture  into  a  pit  again,  before  thou  hast  well  con- 
sidered how  to  get  out  of  it. 


THE  OLD  MAN  AND  DEATH. 


// 


2]Ten  unber  calamity  mail  socm  to  misf?  for  DcatI?,  but 

ttjcy  sclbom  bib  f}im  ux^Icomc  wljcn  Jje  stares 

tf)om  in  tf)e  face. 

THE  OLD  :\IAN  AXD  DEATH. 


A  feeble  old  ]\Ian,  quite  spent  with  carrying  a  burthen 
of  sticks,  which  with  much  labor  he  had  gathered  in  a 
neighboring  wood,  called  upon  Death  to  release  him  from 


the  fatigues  he  en- 
dured. Death  hear- 
ing the  invocation. 
was  immediately  at 
his  e  1  b  o  w%  and 
asked  him  what  he 


/ 


78 


^SOPS  FABLES. 


wanted.  Frightened  and  trembling  at  the  unexpected 
appearance — O  good  sir!  said  he,  my  burthen  had  hke  to 
have  slipped  from  me,  and  being  unable  to  recover  it  my- 
self, I  only  implored  your  assistance  to  lay  it  on  my  shoul- 
ders again. 


^ 


THE  COURT  AND  COUNTRY-MOUSE.  79 


CI?at  cr>en  poverty  vo'itl}  peace  is  pi'eferaMe  to  tl?e  greatest 
affluence  amibst  anxiety. 

THE  COURT  AND  COUXTRY-MOUSE. 

A  contented  Country-mouse  had  once  the  honor  to  re- 
ceive a  visit  from  an  old  acquaintance  belonging  to  the 
Court.  The  Country-mouse,  extremely  glad  to  see  her 
guest,  very  hospitably  set  before  her  the  best  cheese  and 
bacon  which  her  cottage  afforded,  and  as  to  their  bever- 
age, it  was  the  purest  water  from  the  spring.  The  repast 
was  homely  indeed,  but  the  welcome  hearty :  they  sat  and 
chatted  away  the  evening  together  very  agreeably,  and 
then  retired  in  peace  and  quietness  each  to  her  little  cell. 
The  next  morning  when  the  guest  was  to  take  her  leave, 
she  kindly  pressed  her  country  friend  to  accompany  her; 
setting  forth  in  very  pompous  terms  the  great  elegance 
and  plenty  in  which  they  lived  at  court.  The  Country- 
mouse  was  easily  prevailed  upon,  and  they  set  out  to- 
gether. It  was  late  in  the  evening  w^hen  they  arrived  at 
the  palace ;  hov.-ever,  in  one  of  the  rooms,  they  found  the 
remains  of  a  sumptuous  entertainment.  There  were 
creams,  and  jellies,  and  sweetmeats;  and  every  thing,  in 
short,  of  the  most  delicate  kind:  the  cheese  was  Parmesan, 
and  they  wetted  their  whiskers  in  exquisite  champagne. 
But  before  they  had  half  finished  their  repast,  they  were 
alarmed  with  the  barking  and  scratching  of  a  lap-dog; 
then  the  mewing  of  a  cat  frightened  them  almost  to  death ; 
by  and  by,  a  whole  train  of  serA^ants  burst  into  the  room, 
and  everything  was  swept  away  in  an  instant.  Ah!  my 
dear  friend,  said  the  Country-mouse,  as  soon  as  she  had 
recovered  courage  enough  to  speak,  if  your  fine  living 


So 


iESOPS  FABLES. 


is  thus  interrupted  with  fears  and  dangers,  let  nie  return 
to  my  plain  food,  and  my  peaceful  cottage;  for  what  is 
elegance,  without  case;  or  plenty,  with  an  aching  heart? 


THE  FARMER,  CRANES,  AND  STORK.  8l 


Ct?e  surest  loay  to  gain  our  cnbs  is  to  nioberatc  our 

bcsircs. 

THE  BOY  AND  THE  FILBERTS. 

A  certain  Boy,  as  Epictetus  tells  the  fable,  put  his  hand 
into  a  pitcher,  where  great  plenty  of  figs  and  filberts  were 
deposited;  he  grasped  as  many  as  his  fist  could  possibly 
hold,  but  when  he  endeavored  to  pull  it  out,  the  narrow- 
ness of  the  neck  prevented  him.  Unwilling  to  lose  any  of 
them,  but  unable  to  draw  out  his  hand,  he  burst  into 
tears,  and  bitterly  t)emoaned  his  hard  fortune.  An  honest 
fellow  who  stood  by,  gave  him  this  wise  and  reasonable 
advice:  Grasp  only  half  the  quantity,  my  boy,  and  you 
will  easily  succeed. 


Ct^ose  tt){jo  keep  hab  company  must  often  expect  to  suffer 
for  tl}e  misbctjarior  of  tl^eir  companions. 

THE  FARMER,  THE  CRANES,  AND  THE  STORK. 

A  Stork  was  unfortunately  drawn  into  company  with 
some  Cranes,  who  were  just  setting  out  on  a  party  of 
pleasure,  as  they  called  it,  which  in  truth  was  to  rob  the 
fish-ponds  of  a  neighboring  Farmer.  Our  simple  Stork 
agreed  to  make  one;  and  it  so  happened,  that  they  were 
all  taken  in  the  act.  The  Cranes,  having  been  old  of- 
fenders, had  very  little  to  say  for  themselves,  and  were 
presently  dispatched;  but  the  Stork  pleaded  hard  for  hfs 
life;  he  urged  that  it  was  his  first  fault,  that  he  was  not 

6 


82 


iESOPS  FABLES 


naturally  addicted  to  stealing  fish,  that  he  was  famous  for 
piety  toward  his  parents,  and  in  short,  for  many  other 
virtues.  Your  piety  and  virtue,  said  the  Farmer,  may  for 
aught  I  know  be  exemplary;  but  your  being  in  company 
with  thieves  renders  it  very  suspicious,  and  you  must 
therefore  submit  with  patience  to  share  the  same  punish- 
ment with  your  companions. 


trf?e  courage  of  meeting  bnailf  m  an  I^onorable  cause  is 

more  commenbable  tf?an  any  abbress  or  artifice  u?e 

can  make  use  of  to  et^abe  it. 

THE  OAK  AND  THE  WILLOW. 


A  conceited  Willow  had  once  the  vanity  to  challenge 
his  mighty  neighbor  the  Oak,  to  a  trial  of  strength.  It 
was  to  be  determined  by  the  next  storm,  and  .^olus  was 
addressed  by  both  parties,  to  exert  his  most  powerful 
efforts.  This  was  no  sooner  asked  than  granted;  and  a 
violent  hurricane  arose:  when  the  pliant  Willow,  bending 
from  the  blast,  or  shrinking  under  it,  evaded  all  its  force; 
while  the  generous  Oak,  disdaining  to  give  way,  opposed 


THE  OAK  AND  THE  WILLOW. 


83 


its  fury,  and  was  torn  up  by  the  roots.  Immediately  the 
Willow  began  to  exult,  and  to  claim  the  victory:  when 
thus  the  fallen  Oak  interrupted  his  exultation:  Callest 
thou  this  a  trial  of  strength?  Poor  wretch!  not  to  thy 
strength,  but  weakness;  not  to  thy  boldly  facing  danger, 
but  meanly  skulking  from  it,  thou  owest  thy  present 
safety.  I  am  an  oak,  though  fallen;  thou  still  a  willow, 
though  unhurt;  but  who,  except  so  mean  a  wretch  as  thy- 
self, would  prefer  an  ignominious  life,  preserved  by  craft 
or  cowardice,  to  the  glory  of  meeting  death  in  a  brave 
contention? 


84 


^SOPS    FABLKS. 


XDc  5^}0ltl^  imincbiatclij  boclino  all  coinniorcc  w\tl}  a  per* 
son  ivc  finb  to  be  a  6oublc-6ealcv. 

THE  SATYR  AND  THE  TRAVELER. 


A  poor  man  travelino^  in  the  depth  of  winter,  through  a 
dreary  forest,  no  inn  to  receive  him,  no  human  creature  to 
befriend  or  comfort  him,  was  in  danger  of  being  starved 
to  death.  At  last,  however,  he  came  to  the  cave  of  a  Satyr, 
where  he  entreated  leave  to  rest  a  while,  and  shelter  him- 
self from  the  inclemency  of  the  weather.    The  Satyr  very 


civilly  complied  with  his  request.  The  man  had  no  soon- 
er entered,  than  he  began  to  blow  his  fingers.  His  host, 
surprised  at  the  novelty  of  the  action,  was  curious  to 
know  the  meaning  of  it.  I  do  it,  said  the  Traveler,  to 
warm  my  frozen  joints,  which  are  benumbed  with  cold. 
Presently  the  Satyr  having  prepared  a  mess  of  hot  gruel 
to  refresh  his  guest,  the  man  found  it  necessary  to  blow 
his  porridge,  too.  What,  inquired  the  Satyr,  is  not  your 
gruel  hot  enough?     Yes,  replied  the  Traveler,  too  hot; 


THE  FARMER  AND  THE  STAG.  85 

and  I  blow  it  to  make  it  cooler.  Do  you  so?  quoth  the 
Satyr;  then  get  out  of  my  cave  as  fast  as  you  can,  for  I 
desire  to  have  no  communication  with  a  creature,  that 
blows  hot  and  cold  with  the  same  breath. 


Some  expect  tlje  tijanks  tl}ai  are  6ue  to  a  cit)tltty,  wl}\k 

tljey  enbeapor  clanbesttnely  to  unbermtne 

t}:iz  t>alue  of  it. 

THE  FARMER  AND  THE  STAG. 

A  Stag,  who  had  left  at  some  distance  a  pack  of  hounds, 
came  up  to  a  Farmer,  and  desired  he  would  sufTer  him  to 
hide  himself  in  a  little  coppice  which  joined  to  his  house. 
The  Farmer,  on  condition  that  he  would  forbear  to  enter 
a  field  of  wheat,  which  lay  before  him,  and  was  now  ready 
for  the  sickle,  immediately  gave  him  leave,  and  promised 
not  to  betray  him.  The  squire  with  his  train  instantly 
appeared,  and  inquiring  whether  he  had  not  seen  the 
Stag;  No,  said  the  Farmer,  he  has  not  passed  this  way,  I 
assure  you ;  but,  in  order  to  curry  favor  at  the  same  time 
with  his  worship,  he  pointed  slyly  with  his  finger  to  the 
place  where  the  poor  beast  lay  concealed.  This,  how- 
ever, the  sportsman,  intent  on  his  game,  did  not  observe, 
but  passed  on  with  his  dogs  across  the  very  field.  As 
soon  as  the  Stag  perceived  they  were  gone,  he  prepared 
to  steal  off,  without  speaking  a  word.  Methinks,  cried 
the  Farmer,  you  might  thank  me,  at  least,  for  the  refuge  I 
have  afforded  you;  Yes,  said  the  Stag,  and  had  your 
hands  been  as  honest  as  your  tongue,  I  certainly  should ; 
but  all  the  return  that  a  double  dealer  has  to  expect,  is  a 
just  indignation  and  contempt. 


86 


/ESOP  S  FABLES. 


Cl?c  t-illii  aiuHtion  to  ric  irttl^  ouv  supcriorf,  in  rc.jarb 

to  outiparb  fiJsurc  vatl^cr  tl?au  iiurarb  accoiiipli5.l)= 

mcutf-,  is  often  tl^o  cause  of  utter  ruin. 

THE  FROG  AXD  THE  OX. 

A   Fros:^  l)cinp:  wonderfully  struck  with  the  size  and 
niajt-stv  of  an  Ox  that  was  grazing  in  the  marshes,  could 


THE  FROG  AND  THE  OX. 


87 


not  forbear  endeavoring-  to  expand  herself  to  the  same 
portly  magnitude.  After  puffing"  and  swelling  for  some 
time:  What  think  you,  sister,  said  she,  will  this  do? 
Far    from    it.      Will    this?      By    no    means.      But  this 


surely  will.  Nothing  like  it.  In  short,  after  many  ridicu- 
lous efforts  to  the  same  fruitless  purpose,  the  simple  frog 
burst  her  skin,  and  miserably  expired  upon  the  spot. 


88  yESOP'S  FABLES. 

Cl)orc  \i  no  error  too  o.vtranaaant  for  prepossession  anb 
partialttiu 

THE  MIMIC  AND  THE  COUNTRYMAN. 

Men  often  judge  wrong  from  some  foolish  prejudice; 
anil  whilst  they  persist  in  the  defence  of  their  mistakes, 
are  sometimes  brought  to  shame  by  incontestible  evi- 
dence. 

A  certain  wealthy  patrician,  intending  to  treat  the 
Roman  people  with  some  theatrical  entertainments,  pub- 
lished a  reward  to  any  one  who  could  furnish  out  a  new 
or  uncommon  diversion.  Excited  by  emulation,  the 
artists  assembled  from  all  parts;  among  whom,  a  ]vlimic 
well  known  for  his  arch  wit,  gave  out  that  he  had  a  kind 
of  entertainment  that  had  never  yet  been  produced  upon 
any  stage. 

This  report  being  spread  about,  brought  the  whole  city 
together.  The  theater  could  hardly  contain  the  number 
of  spectators.  And  when  the  artist  appeared  alone  upon 
the  stage,  without  any  apparatus,  without  any  prompter 
or  assistant,  curiosity  and  suspense  kept  the  spectators 
in  a  profound  silence. 

On  a  sudden  the  performer  thrust  down  his  head  into 
his  bosom,  and  mimicked  the  squeaking  of  a  young  pig 
so  naturally,  that  the  audience  insisted  upon  it,  he  had  a 
real  pig  under  his  cloak,  and  ordered  him  to  be  searched. 
Which  being  done,  when  nothing  appeared,  they  loaded 
the  man  with  encomiums  and  honored  him  with  the  most 
extravagant  applause. 

A  country  fellow  observing  what  passed — Faith,  says 
he,  I  can  do  better  than  he;  and  immediately  gave  out 
that  he  would  perform  the  same  thing  much  better  the 


THE  MIMIC  AND  THE  COUNTRYMAN. 


89 


next  day.  Accordingly,  greater  crowds  assemble:  pre- 
possessed, however,  in  favor  of  the  first  artist,  they  sit  pre- 
pared to  laugh  at  the  clown,  rather  than  to  judge  fairly  of 
his  performance. 


They  both  came  out  upon  the  stage.  The  ^limic  grunts 
away  first,  is  received  with  vast  applause,  and  the  loudest 
acclamations.  Then  the  Countryman,  pretending  that  he 
concealed  a  little  pig  under  his  clothes  (which  in  fact  he 
did),  plucked  the  ear  of  the  animal,  and  by  the  pain  forced 
him  to  utter  his  natural  cry.  The  people  exclaimed  aloud 
that  the  first  performer  had  imitated  the  pig  much  more 
naturally,  and  would  have  hissed  the  Countr}'man  ofif  the 
stage;  but  producing  the  real  pig  from  his  bosom,  and 
convincing  them,  by  a  visible  proof,  of  their  ridiculous 
error;  See,  gentlemen,  says  he,  what  pretty  sort  of  judges 
you  are! 


90  ^SOP  S  FABLES. 

3t  is  opor  baiiJsorous  to  be  I01K3  conrcvsaiit  nnt\)  persons 
of  a  bab  cl)avactcr. 

THE  DOG  AXD  THE  CROCODILE. 

As  a  Dog  was  coursing  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  he  grew 
thirsty,  but  fearing  to  be  seized  by  the  monsters  of  that 
river,  he  would  not  stop  to  satiate  his  thirst,  but  lapped  as 
he  ran.  A  Crocodile,  raising  his  head  above  the  surface 
of  the  water,  asked  him,  Why  he  was  in  such  a  hurry? 
he  had  often,  he  said,  wished  for  his  acquaintance,  and 
should  be  glad  to  embrace  the  present  opportunity.  You 
do  ine  great  honor,  said  the  Dog,  but  it  is  to  avoid  such 
companions  as  you  that  I  am  in  so  much  haste. 


(X  false  estimate  of  our  own  abilities  cucr  exposes  us  to 
ribicule,  anb  sometimes  to  bangier. 

THE  EAGLE  AND  THE  CROW. 

An  Eagle,  from  the  top  of  a  high  mountain,  made  a 
stoop  at  a  lamb,  pounced  upon  it,  and  bore  it  away  to 
her  young.  A  Crow,  wdio  had  built  her  nest  in  a  cedar 
near  the  foot  of  the  rock,  observing  what  passed,  was  am- 
bitious of  performing  the  same  exploit;  and,  darting  from 
her  nest,  fixed  her  talons  in  the  fleece  of  another  lamb. 
But  neither  able  to  move  her  prey,  nor  disentangle  her 
feet,  she  was  taken  by  the  shepherd,  and  carried  away 
for  his  children  to  play  with ;  who  eagerly  inquiring  what 
bird  it  was, — An  hour  ago,  said  he,  she  fancied  herself  an 
Eagle;  however,  I  suppose  she  is  by  this  time  convinced 
that  she  is  but  a  Crow. 


THE  COCK  AND  THE   FOX. 


91 


Co  retort  tijc  artifice  cmployeb  a«^ainst  us  is  an  aIloa>= 
able  part  of  self-befence. 

THE  COCK  AND  THE  FOX. 


An  experienced  old  Cock  was  setting  himself  to  roost 
upon  a  high  bough,  when  a  Fox  appeared  under  the  tree. 
I  am  come,  said  the  artful  h3-pocrite,  to  acquaint  you  in 
the  name  of  all  my  brethren,  that  a  general  peace  is  con- 


cluded between  us  and  your  w^hole  family.  Descend  im- 
mediately, I  beseech  you,  that  we  may  mutually  embrace 
upon  so  joyful  and  unexpected  an  event.  My  good 
friend,  replied  the  Cock,  nothing  could  be  more  agreeable 
to  me  than  this  news;  and  to  hear  it  from  you  increases 
my  satisfaction.     But  i  spy  two  greyhounds    at    a  dis- 


92  iESOP'S  FABLES. 

tance  coming  this  way,  who  aru  probal)ly  dispatched  as 
couriers  witli  tlie  treaty;  as  they  run  very  swiftly,  and 
will  certainly  be  here  in  a  few  minutes,  I  will  wait  their 
arrival,  that  we  may  all  four  embrace  together.  Reynard 
well  knew  that  if  this  was  the  case,  it  was  no  time  for  him 
to  remain  there  any  longer;  pretending,  therefore,  to  be 
in  great  haste.  Adieu,  said  he,  for  the  present;  we  will 
reserve  our  rejoicings  to  another  opportunity;  upon 
which  he  darted  into  the  woods  with  all  imaginable  ex- 
pedition. Old  Chanticleer  no  sooner  saw  him  depart, 
than  he  crowed  abundantly  in  the  triumph  of  his  artifice, 
for  by  a  harmless  stratagem  to  disappoint  the  malevolent 
intentions  of  those  who  are  endeavoring  to  deceive  us  to 
our  ruin,  is  not  only  innocent  but  laudable. 


3t  trcrc  more  prubent  to  acquiesce  unber  an  injury  from 

a  single  person,  tfjan  by  an  act  of  rengeance  to  bring 

upon  us  tlje  resentment  of  a  wl}ok  community. 

THE  BEAR  AND  THE  BEES. 

A  Bear  happened  to  be  stung  by  a  Bee,  and  the  pain 
was  so  acute  that  in  the  madness  of  revenge  he  ran  into 
the  garden,  and  overturned  the  hive.  This  outrage  pro- 
voked their  anger  to  a  high  degree,  and  brought  the  fury 
of  the  whole  swarm  upon  him.  They  attacked  him  with 
such  violence,  that  his  life  was  in  danger,  and  it  was  with 
the  utmost  difftculty  that  he  made  his  escape,  wounded 
from  head  to  tail.  In  this  desperate  condition,  lamenting 
his  misfortune,  and  licking  his  sores,  he  could  not  forbear 
reflecting,  how  much  more  advisable  it  had  been  to  have 
patiently  acquiesced  under  one  injury,  than  thus,  by  an 
unprofitable  resentment,  to  have  provoked  a  thousand. 


THE  BEE  AND  THE  SPIDER.  93 


Ctparice  often  misscf.  its  point  tl^rougl}  t{?e  means  it  uses 
to  secure  it. 

THE  ASS  AND  HIS  MASTER. 

A  diligent  Ass,  that  had  long  served  a  severe  master, 
daily  loaded  beyond  his  strength,  and  kept  but  at  very 
short  commons,  happened  one  day  in  his  old  age  to  be  op- 
pressed with  a  burden  of  earthen-ware.  His  strength 
being  much  impaired,  and  the  road  deep  and  uneven,  he 
unfortunately  made  a  trip,  and  unable  to  recover  himself, 
fell  down  and  broke  all  the  vessels  to  pieces.  His  Master, 
transported  with  rage,  began  to  beat  him  with  great  vio- 
lence, and  without  mercy.  To  whom  the  poor  Ass,  lifting 
up  his  head  as  he  lay  on  the  ground,  strongly  remonstrat- 
ed: Unfeeling  wretch!  to  thy  own  avaricious  cruelty  in 
first  pinching  me  of  food,  and  then  loading  me  beyond  my 
strength,  thou  owest  the  misfortune  which  thou  so  un- 
justly imputest  to  me. 


Heitl^er  ingenuitij  nor  learning  is  entitleb  to  regarb  but 

in  proportion  as  tl]ei)  contribute  to  tlje 

f)apptness  of  life. 

THE  BEE  AND  THE  SPIDER. 

The  Bee  and  the  Spider  once  entered  into  a  warm  de- 
bate which  was  the  better  artist.  The  Spider  urged  her 
skill  in  the  mathematics;  and  asserted  that  no  one  was 
half  so  well  acquainted  as  herself  with  the  construction  of 
lines,  angles,  squares,  and  circles;  that  the  web  she  daily 


94  /DSOrS  FAHLF.S. 

wove  was  a  specimen  of  art  inimitable  by  any  other  crea- 
ture in  the  universe;  and  besides,  that  her  works  were  de- 
rived from  herself  alone,  the  product  of  her  own  bowels; 
whereas  the  boasted  honey  of  the  Bee  was  stolen  from  ev- 
ery herb  and  flower  of  the  field ;  nay,  that  she  had  obliga- 
tions even  to  the  meanest  weeds.  To  this  the  Bee  replied, 
that  she  was  in  hopes  the  art  of  extracting  honey  from  the 
meanest  weeds,  would  at  least  have  been  allowed  her  as 
an  excellence;  and  that  as  to  her  stealing  sweets  from  the 
herbs  and  flowers  of  the  field,  her  skill  was  there  so  con- 
spicuous, that  no  flower  ever  suffered  the  least  diminu- 
tion of  its  fragrance  from  so  delicate  an  operation.  Then, 
as  to  the  Spider's  vaunted  knowledge  in  the  construction 
of  lines  and  angles,  she  believed  she  might  safely  rest  the 
merits  of  hev  cause  on  the  regularity  alone  of  her  combs; 
but  since  she  could  add  to  this  the  sweetness  and  excel- 
lence of  her  honey,  and  the  various  purposes  for  which 
her  wax  was  employed,  she  had  nothing  to  fear  from  a 
comparison  of  her  skill  with  that  of  the  weaver  of  a  flimsy 
cobweb;  for  the  value  of  every  art,  she  observed,  is  chiefly 
to  be  estimated  bv  its  use. 


CI?e  fomentcr  of  miscl^icf  is  at  least  as  culpable  as  I}e 
rpljo  puts  it  in  e.vecution. 

THE  TRUMPETER. 

A  Trumpeter  in  a  certain  army  happened  to  be  taken 
prisoner.  He  was  ordered  immediately  to  execution,  but 
pleaded  in  excuse  for  himself,  that  it  was  unjust  a  person 
should  suffer  death,  who,  far  from  an  intention  of  mischief, 


THE  TRUMPETER. 


95 


did  not  even  wear  an  offensive  weapon.  So  much  the 
rather,  rephed  one  of  the  enemy,  shalt  thou  die;  since 
without  any  design  of  fighting  thyself,  thou  excitest  others 


'4k ')  ^^ w^y^'F^^i^ 


to  the  bloody  business;  for  he  that  is  the  abettor  of  a  bad 
action,  is  at  least  equally  guilty  with  him  that  commits  it. 


96  iESOP'S  FABLES. 

3t  if-  orcr  imprubcnt  to  join  interests  w'xtl}  tijose  trl^oare 
aMo  to  impose  upon  us  tl)cir  omn  conbitions. 

THE  SXAKE  AND  THE  HEDGE-HOG. 

By  the  entreaties  of  a  Hedge-hog  half  starved  with  cold, 
a  Snake  was  once  persuaded  to  receive  him  into  her  cell. 
He  was  no  sooner  entered,  than  his  prickles  began  to  be 
very  uneasy  to  his  companion;  upon  which,  the  Snake 
desired  he  would  provide  himself  another  lodging,  as  she 
found  her  apartment  was  not  large  enough  to  acconmio- 
date  both.  Nay,  said  the  Hedge-hog,  let  them  that  are 
uneasy  in  their  situation  exchange  it;  for  my  own  part,  I 
am  very  well  contented  where  I  am;  and  if  you  arc  not, 
you  are  welcome  to  remove  w'henever  you  think  proper. 


fortune,  inittjout  tF?e  concurrence  of  rice,  cannot  effectu= 
ally  bestroy  our  I^appiness;  whereas  rice,  without  tl^e 
Ijelp  of  fortune,  can  make  us  miserable  to  tfje  last 
extreme. 

VICE  AND  FORTUNE. 

Fortune  and  Vice,  according  to  Plutarch,  had  once  a 
violent  contest,  which  of  them  had  it  most  in  their  power 
to  make  mankind  unhappy.  Fortune  boasted  that  she 
could  take  from  men  every  external  good,  and  bring  upon 
them  every  external  evil.  Be  it  so,  replied  Vice:  but  this 
is  by  no  means  sufficient  without  my  assistance;  whereas 
without  yours,  I  am  able  to  render  them  completely  mis- 
erable; nay,  in  spite,  too,  of  all  your  endeavors  to  make 
them  happy. 


THE  FARMER   AND  HIS  SONS.  97 

IPIjatcpcr  fancy  may  bctermine,  tl^e  stanbing  palue  of 
all  tf^tngs  is  in  proportion  to  tl^eir  use. 

MINERVA'S  OLIVE. 

The  gods,  say  the  heathen  mythologists,  have  each  of 
them  their  favorite  tree.  Jupiter  preferred  the  oak, 
Venus  the  myrtle,  and  Phoebus  the  laurel;  Cybele  the 
pine,  and  Hercules  the  poplar.  Minerva,  continues  the 
mythologist,  surprised  that  they  should  choose  barren 
trees,  asked  Jupiter  the  reason.  It  is,  said  he,  to  prevent 
any  suspicion  that  we  confer  the  honor  we  do  them,  for 
the  sake  of  their  fruit.  Let  folly  suspect  what  it  pleases, 
returned  Minen^a;  I  shall  not  scruple  to  acknowledge, 
that  I  make  choice  of  the  olive  for  the  usefulness  of  its 
fruit.  O  daughter,  replied  the  father  of  the  gods,  it  is 
with  justice  that  men  esteem  thee  wise;  for  nothing  is 
trulv  valuable  that  is  not  useful. 


3nbustrij  is  itself  a  treasure. 
THE  FARMER  AND  HIS  SONS. 

A  wealthy  old  Farmer,  who  had  for  some  time  been  de- 
clining in  his  health,  perceiving  that  he  had  not  many 
days  to  live,  called  his  sons  together  to  his  bedside.  My 
dear  children,  said  the  dying  man,  I  leave  it  with  you  as 
my  last  injunction,  not  to  part  with  the  farm  which  has 
been  in  our  family  for  these  hundred  years;  for,  to  dis- 
close to  you  a  secret  which  I  received  from  my  father, 
and  which  I  now  think  proper  to  communicate  to  you, 


()8  iESOFS  FABLES. 

iluTc  is  a  treasure  hid  soiiieuhere  in  the  grounds;  tliough 
T  never  could  discover  the  particular  spot  where  it  lies 
concealed.  However,  as  soon  as  the  harvest  is  got  in, 
spare  no  pains  in  the  search,  and  I  am  well  assured  you 
will  not  lose  your  labor.  The  wise  old  man  was  no  soon- 
er laid  in  his  grave,  and  the  time  he  mentioned  arrived, 
than  his  sons  went  to  work,  and  with  great  vigor  and 
alacrity  turned  up  again  and  again  every  foot  of  ground 
belonging  to  their  farm;  the  consequence  of  which  was,  al- 
though they  did  not  find  the  object  of  their  pursuit,  that 
their  lands  yielded  a  far  more  plentiful  crop  than  those  of 
their  neighbors.  At  the  end  of  the  year,  w^hen  they  were 
settling  their  accounts,  and  computing  their  extraordi- 
nary profits,  I  would  venture  a  wager,  said  one  of  the 
brothers  more  acute  than  the  rest,  that  this  w^as  the  con- 
cealed wealth  my  father  meant.  I  am  sure,  at  least,  we 
have  found  by  experience,  that  Industry  is  itself  a  trea- 
sure. 


G.  total  neoilect  is  tf^e  best  return  tfje  generous  can  make 
to  tF?e  scurrility  of  tl^e  base. 

THE  LION  AND  THE  ASS. 

A  conceited  Ass  had  once  the  impertinence  to  bray 
forth  some  contemptuous  speeches  against  the  Lion.  The 
suddenness  of  the  insult,  at  first  raised  some  emotions  of 
wrath  in  his  breast;  but  turning  his  head  and  perceiving 
from  whence  it  came,  they  immediately  subsided,  and  he 
very  sedately  walked  on,  without  deigning  to  honor  the 
contemptible  creature,  even  so  much  as  with  an  angry 
word. 


THE  MILLER,   HIS  SON,  AND  THEIR  ASS. 


99 


Cbe  necessity  of  pursuing  tfje  bictates  of  one's  reason  in= 
steab  of  attemptina  to  please  all  mankinb. 

THE  MILLER,  HIS  SON,  AND  THEIR  ASS. 


A  Miller  and  his  Son  were  driving  their  Ass  to  market, 
in  order  to  sell  him.  That  he  might  get  thither  fresh  and 
in  good  condition,  they  drove  him  on  gently  before  them. 
They  had  not  gone  far,  when  they  met  a  company  of  trav- 
elers. Sure,  say  they,  you  are  mighty  careful  of  your 
Af.s;  methinks  one  of  you  might  as  well  get  up  and  ride,  as 
let  him  walk  on  at  his  ease,  while  you  trudge  after  him  on 
foot.  In  compliance  with  this  advice,  the  old  man  set  his 
Son  upon  the  beast.  They  had  scarce  advanced  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  further,  when  they  met  another  company.  You 
lazy  booby,  said  one  of  the  party,  why  don't  you  get  down, 
and  let  your  poor  father  ride?  Upon  this,  the  old  man 
made  his  son  dismount,  and  got  up  himself.  In  this  man- 
ner they  had  not  marched  many  furlongs,  when  a  third 
company  began  to  insult  the  father.  You  hard-hearted, 
unnatural  wretch,  say  they,  how  can  you  suffer  that  poor 


lOO 


iESOP'S  FABLES. 


lad  to  wade  through  the  dut,  while  you  like  an  alderman 
ride  at  your  ease?     The  good-natured  Miller  stood  cor- 
rected, and  immediately  took  his  son  up  behind  him. 
And  now,  the  next  man  they 
met  exclaimed   with   more  ve-  ^ 

hemcnce  and  indignation  than 
all  the  rest.      Was  there 


ever  such  a  couple  of  lazy  boobies!  to  overload  in  so  un- 
comfortable a  manner  a  poor  dumb  creature,  who  is  far 
less  able  to  carry  them  than  they  are  to  carry  him !  Any- 
thing to  please  you,  said  the  old  man;    we  can  but  try. 


THE  MILLER.  HIS  SON  AND  THEIR  ASS. 


IDI 


So,  alighting  with  his  Son,  they  tied  the  legs  of  the  Ass 
together,  and  by  the  help  of  a  pole,  endeavored  to  carry 
him  on  their  shoulders  over  a  bridge  near  the  entrance 
of  the  town.  This  entertaining  sight  brought  the  people 
in  crowds  to  laugh  at  it;  till  the  Ass,  not  liking  the  noise, 
nor  the  strange  handling  he  was  subject  to,  broke  the 
cords  that  bound  him,  and,  tumbling  off  the  pole,  fell  into 
the  river  and  was  drowned. 

Upon  this,  the  Miller,  vexed  and  ashamed,  made  the 
best  of  his  way  home  again,  convinced  that  by  trying  to 
please  everybody  he  had  pleased  nobody,  and  lost  his  Ass 
into  the  bargain. 


102  iESOI'S  FABLES. 

(EI?c  intomv\n-ato  raac  of  clients  giucs  \hc  lauiycr  an 
oppovtiniitij  of  sciziiKj  tlje  property  in  bispute. 

THE  LION,  THE  TIGER  AND  THE  FOX. 

A  Lion  and  a  Tiger  jointly  seized  on  a  young  fawn, 
which  they  immediately  killed.  This  they  had  no  sooner 
performed,  than  they  fell  to  fighting,  in  order  to  decide 
whose  property  it  should  be.  The  battle  was  so  bloody, 
and  so  obstinate,  that  they  were  both  compelled,  through 
weariness  and  loss  of  blood,  to  desist;  and  lay  down  by 
mutual  consent,  totally  disabled.  At  this  instant,  a  wily 
Fox  unluckily  came  by;  who,  perceiving  their  situation, 
made  bold  to  seize  the  contested  prey,  and  bore  it  off  un- 
molested. As  soon  as  the  Lion  could  recover  breath. 
How  foolish,  said  he,  has  been  our  conduct!  Instead  of 
being  contented  as  we  ought,  with  our  respective  shares, 
our  senseless  rage  has  rendered  us  unable  to  prevent  this 
rascallv  fox  from  defrauding  us  of  the  whole. 


CI?crc  iDouIb  be  little  cIjaHcc  of  betecting  Ijypocnsij  tDcrc 
it  not  altoays  abbtcteb  to  or»cr=act  its  part. 

THE  WOLF  IN  DISGUISE. 

A  Wolf  who  by  his  frequent  visits  to  a  flock  of  sheep  in 
his  neighborhood,  began  to  be  extremely  well  known 
to  them,  thought  it  expedient,  for  the  more  successfully 
carrying-  on  his  depredations,  to  appear  in  a  new  charac- 
ter.    To  this  end  he  disguised  himself  in  a  shepherd's 


THE  WOLF  AND  THE  LAMB.  IO3 

habit ;  and  resting  his  fore  feet  upon  a  stick,  which  served 
him  by  way  of  crook,  he  softly  made  his  approach  toward 
the  fold.  It  happened  that  the  shepherd  and  his  dog  were 
both  of  them  extended  on  the  grass,  fast  asleep,  so  that 
he  would  certainly  have  succeeded  in  his  project,  if  he 
had  not  imprudently  attempted  to  imitate  the  shepherd's 
voice.  The  horrid  noise  awakened  them  both;  when 
the  Wolf,  encumbered  with  his  disguise,  and  finding  it 
impossible  either  to  resist,  or  to  flee,  yielded  up  his  life 
an  easy  prey  to  the  shepherd's  dog. 


Ct?c  young  anb  artless  sfjoulb  make  caution  supply  tlje 
place  of  years  anb  experience. 

THE  WOLF  AND  THE  LAMB. 

A  flock  of  sheep  were  feeding  in  a  meadow,  while  their 
dogs  were  asleep,  and  their  shepherd  at  a  distance  playing 
on  his  pipe  beneath  the  shade  of  a  spreading  elm.  A 
young  inexperienced  Lamb,observing  a  half-starved  Wolf 
peeping  through  the  pales  of  the  enclosure,  entered  into 
conversation  with  him.  Pray  what  are  you  seeking  for 
here?  said  the  Lamb.  I  am  looking,  replied  the  Wolf,  for 
some  tender  grass ;  for  nothing,  you  know,  is  more  pleas- 
ant than  to  feed  in  a  fresh  pasture,  and  to  slake  one's 
thirst  at  a  crystal  stream;  both  which,  I  perceive,  you 
enjoy  wdthin  these  pales  in  their  utmost  perfection.  Happy 
creature!  continued  he,  how  much  I  envy  you  your  lot! 
who  are  in  possession  of  the  utmost  I  desire,  for  I  have 
long  been  taught  by  philosophy,  to  be  satisfied  with  a 
little.     It   seems  then,  returned   the   Lamb,  that  those 


I04  ^SOPS  FABLES. 

who  say  you  feed  on  flesh,  accuse  you  falsely,  since  a  little 
grass  will  easily  content  you.  If  this  be  true,  let  us  for 
the  future  live  like  brethren,  and  feed  together.  So  say- 
ing, the  simple  Lamb  imprudently  crept  through  the 
fence,  and  became  at  once  a  prey  to  our  pretended  phil- 
osopher, and  a  sacrifice  to  her  own  inexperience  and 
credulity. 


d?c  biffcrent  Vu}l}is  in  vol)\cl}  tl^tucjs  appear  to  biffcront 

jub^ments  rccommcnb  respect  for  tf^e  opinions  of 

otijers,  iv<in  tufjen  me  retain  our  ott>n. 

THE  CHAMELEON. 

Two  travelers  happened  on  their  journey  to  be  engaged 
in  a  warm  dispute  about  the  color  of  the  Chameleon.  One 
of  them  aflfirmed  that  it  was  blue ;  that  he  had  seen  it  with 
his  own  eyes,  upon  the  naked  branch  of  a  tree,  feeding  on 
the  air,  in  a  very  clear  day.  The  other  strongly  asserted 
that  it  was  green,  and  that  he  had  viewed  it  very  closely 
and  minutely  on  the  broad  leaf  of  a  fig  tree.  Both  of 
them  were  positive,  and  the  dispute  was  rising  to  a  quar- 
rel, but  a  third  person  luckily  coming  by,  they  agreed  to 
refer  the  question  to  his  decision.  Gentlemen,  said  the 
arbitrator,  with  a  smile  of  great  self-satisfaction,  you  could 
not  have  been  more  lucky  in  your  reference,  as  I  happen 
to  have  caught  one  of  them  last  night ;  but  indeed  you  are 
both  mistaken,  for  the  creature  is  totally  black.  Black! 
cried  they  both;  impossible!  Nay,  quoth  the  umpire, 
with  great  assurance,  the  matter  may  soon  be  decided,  for 
I  immediately  enclosed  my  chameleon  in  a  little  paper 


THE  FOX  AND  THE  BRAMBLE.  I05 

box,  and  here  he  is.  So  saying,  he  drew  it  out  of  his  pock- 
et, opened  his  box,  and  behold  it  was  white  as  snow.  The 
positive  disputants  looked  equally  surprised,  and  equally 
confounded,  while  the  sagacious  reptile,  assuming  the 
air  of  a  philosopher,  thus  admonished  them:  Ye  chil- 
dren of  men,  learn  dififidence  and  moderation  in  your 
opinions.  It  is  true,  you  happen,  in  the  present  instance, 
to  be  all  in  the  right,  and  have  only  considered  the  subject 
under  different  circumstances;  but  pray,  for  the  future, 
allow  other  men  to  have  eyesight  as  well  as  yourselves; 
nor  wonder  if  every  one  prefers  the  testimony  of  his  own 
senses,  to  that  of  another's. 


tDe  sl^oulb  bear  witi)  patience  a  small  ertl,  trfjen  it  is 
conncctcb  voit^  a  greater  goob. 

THE  FOX  AND  THE  BRAMBLE. 

A  Fox,  closely  pursued  by  a  pack  of  dogs,  took  shelter 
under  the  covert  of  a  bramble.  He  rejoiced  in  this  asy- 
lum, and  for  a  while  was  very  happy;  but  soon  found, 
that  if  he  attempted  to  stir,  he  was  wounded  by  thorns 
and  prickles  on  every  side.  However,  making  a  virtue 
of  necessity,  he  forbore  to  complain,  and  comforted  him- 
self with  reflecting,  that  no  bliss  is  perfect;  that  good  and 
evil  are  mixed  and  flow  from  the  same  fountain.  These 
briars  indeed,  said  he,  will  tear  my  skin  a  little,  yet  they 
keep  ofT  the  dogs.  For  the  sake  of  the  good,  then,  let  me 
bear  the  evil  with  patience;  each  bitter  has  its  sweet,  and 
these  brambles,  though  they  wound  my  flesh,  preserve  my 
life  from  danger. 


lo6  ^SOP'S  FABLES. 

XDc  cannot  reasonably  expect  tF^ose  to  bear  a  part  in  our 

ill  fortune,  u'>I)oni  ire  nerer  pormitteb  to  sl^are 

in  our  prosperitij. 

THE  TRA\^ELERS  AND  THE  MONEY-BAG. 

As  two  men  were  traveling-  on  the  road,  one  of  them  es- 
pied a  bag  of  money  lying  on  the  ground,  and  picking  it 
up,  I  am  in  luck  this  morning,  said  he,  I  have  found  a  bag 
of  money.  Yes,  replied  the  other,  though,  methinks,  you 
should  not  say  I,  but  we  have  found  it,  for  when  two 
friends  arc  traveling  together,  they  ought  equally  to  share 
in  any  accidental  good  fortune  that  may  happen  to  attend 
them.  No,  replied  the  former,  it  was  I  that  found  it,  and 
I  must  insist  upon  keeping  it.  He  had  no  sooner  spoken 
the  words  than  they  were  alarmed  with  a  hue  and  cry  after 
a  thief,  who  had  that  morning  taken  a  purse  upon  the 
road.  Lord,  says  the  finder,  this  is  extremely  unfortu- 
nate, we  shall  certainly  be  seized.  Good  sir,  replied  the 
other,  be  pleased  not  to  say  we,  but  I;  as  you  would 
not  allow  me  to  share  in  the  prize,  you  have  no  right  to 
make  me  a  partner  in  the  punishment. 


Different  ktnbs  of  experience  account  for  different  kinbs  of 
conbuct. 

THE  FALCON  AND  THE  HEN. 

Of  all  the  creatures  I  ever  knew,  said  a  Falcon  to  a  Hen, 
you  arc  certainly  the  most  ungrateful.  What  instance  of 
ingratitude,  replied  the  Hen,  can  you  justly  charge  upon 
me?     The  greatest,  returned  the  Falcon;  ingratitude  to 


THE  SORCERESS.  I07 

your  highest  benefactors,  men.  Do  they  not  feed  you 
every  day,  and  shelter  you  every  night?  Nevertheless, 
when  they  endeavor  to  court  you  to  them,  you  ungrate- 
fully forget  all  their  kindness,  and  fly  from  them  as  from 
an  enemy.  Now  I,  who  am  wild  by  nature,  and  no  way 
obliged  to  them;  yet  upon  the  least  of  their  caresses,  suf- 
fer myself  to  be  taken,  and  go  or  come  at  their  command. 
All  this  is  very  true,  replied  the  Hen,  but  there  may  be  a 
sufftcient  reason  both  for  my  fear,  and  for  your  familiar- 
it}  :  I  believe  you  never  saw  a  single  falcon  roasting  at 
the  fire;  whereas  I  have  seen  a  hundred  hens  trussed  for 
the  spit. 


(Et)cre   are   numbers  of  people  wl}0  it>ouIb  unl?tii<^e  tf^e 

iporlb  to  ease  ttjemselues  of  tlje  smallest 

inconpcnieiicc. 

THE  SORCERESS. 

Night  and  silence  had  now  given  repose  to  the  whole 
world;  when  an  old,  ill-natured  Sorceress,  in  order  to  ex- 
ercise her  infernal  arts,  entered  into  a  gloomy  wood,  that 
trembled  at  her  approach.  The  scene  of  her  horrid  in- 
cantations was  within  the  circumference  of  a  large  circle ; 
in  the  center  of  which  an  altar  was  raised,  where  the  hal- 
lowed vervain  blazed  in  triangular  flames,  while  the  mis- 
chievous hag  pronounced  the  dreadful  words,  which 
bound  all  hell  in  obedience  to  her  charms.  She  blows  a 
raging  pestilence  from  her  lips  into  the  neighboring  folds ; 
the  innocent  cattle  die,  to  afford  a  fit  sacrifice  to  the  in- 
fernal deities.     The  moon,  by  powerful  spells  drawn  down 


Io8  ^SOPS    FABLES. 

from  her  orbs,  enters  the  wood;  legions  of  spirits  from 
riuto's  reahiis  appear  before  the  altar,  and  demand  her 
pleasure.  Tell  me,  said  she,  where  I  shall  find  what  I 
have  lost,  my  favorite  little  dog.  How! — cried  they  all, 
enraged — Impertinent  Beldame!  must  the  order  of 
nature  be  inverted,  and  the  repose  of  every  creature  dis- 
turbed, for  the  sake  of  thy  little  dog? 


V0^  greatly  bimtutsf?  tt?c  I^appincss  of  life  by  unben?alu« 
ing  all  tljat  is  sfjort  of  perfection. 

THE  DISCONTENTED  ASS. 

In  the  depth  of  winter,  a  poor  Ass  prayed  heartily  for 
the  spring,  that  he  might  exchange  a  cold  lodging,  and  a 
heartless  truss  of  straw,  for  a  little  warm  weather,  and  a 
mouthful  of  fresh  grass.  In  a  short  time,  according  to  his 
ivish,  the  warm  weather  and  the  fresh  grass  came  on;  but 
brought  with  them  so  much  toil  and  business,  that  he 
was  soon  as  weary  of  the  spring  as  before  of  the  winter; 
and  he  now  became  impatient  for  the  approach  of  sum- 
mer. -Summer  arrives:  but  the  heat,  the  harvest  work, 
and  other  drudgeries  and  inconveniences  of  the  season, 
set  him  as  far  from  happiness  as  before;  which  he  now 
flattered  himself  would  be  found  in  the  plenty  of  autumn. 
But  here  too  he  is  disappointed,  for  what  with  the  carry- 
ing of  apples,  roots,  fuel  for  the  winter,  and  other  provis- 
ions, he  was  in  autumn  more  fatigued  than  ever.  Having 
thus  trod  round  the  circle  of  the  year,  in  a  course  of  rest- 
less labor,  uneasiness  and  disappointment ;  and  found  no 


THE  ROSE  AND  THE  BUTTERFLY.  IO9 

season,  nor  station  of  life,  without  its  business  and  its 
trouble;  he  was  forced  at  last  to  acquiesce  in  the  cold 
comfort  of  winter,  where  his  complaint  began:  convinced 
that  in  this  world  there  is  no  true  happiness. 


V0^  exclaim  loubly  against  tfjat  incotistancij  in  anotf^er, 
to  vol:}xci}  voz  originallij  gace  occasion,  by  our  omn. 

THE  ROSE  AND  THE  BUTTERFLY. 

A  fine  powdered  Butterfly  fell  in  love  with  a  beautiful 
Rose,  who  expanded  her  charms  in  a  neighboring  par- 
terre. Matters  were  soon  adjusted  between  them,  and  they 
mutually  vowed  eternal  fidelity.  The  Butterfly,  perfectly 
satisfied  with  the  success  of  his  armor,  took  a  tender  leave 
of  his  mistress,  and  did  not  return  again  till  noon.  What! 
said  the  Rose,  when  she  saw-  him  approaching,  is  the 
ardent  passion  you  vowed,  so  soon  extinguished?  It  is 
an  age  since  you  paid  me  a  visit.  But  no  wonder;  for 
I  observed  you  courting  by  turns  every  flower  in  the 
garden.  You  little  coquet,  replied  the  Butterfly,  it  well 
becomes  you,  truly,  to  reproach  me  with  my  gallantries ; 
when  in  fact  I  only  copy  the  example  which  you  yourself 
have  set  me.  For,  not  to  mention  the  satisfaction  with 
which  you  admitted  the  kisses  of  the  fragrant  zephyr; 
did  I  not  see  you  displaying  your  charms  to  the  bee,  the 
fly,  the  wasp,  and  in  short,  encouraging  and  receiving 
the  addresses  of  every  buzzing  insect  that  fluttered  with- 
in your  view? 

If  you  will  be  a  coquet,  you  must  expect  to  find  me 
inconstant. 


no  iESOPS  FABLES. 

f)c  tt^at  is  cmploycb  in  works  of  use,  aoncrnllij  abpant= 

ages  Ijimself  or  otl^ers;  wl}\k  !)c  u-)!}0  toils  for  fame 

alone  must  expect  to  often  lose  Ijis  labor. 

THE  SPIDER  AND  THE  SILKWORM. 

A  Spider  busied  in  spreading  his  web  from  one  side  of 
the  room  to  the  other,  was  asked  by  an  industrious  Silk- 
worm, to  what  end  he  spent  so  much  time  and  labor,  in 
making  such  a  number  of  lines  and  circles?  The  Spider 
angrily  replied,  Do  not  disturb  me,  thou  ignorant  thing; 
I  transmit  my  ingenuity  to  posterity,  and  fame  is  the 
object  of  my  wishes.  Just  as  he  had  spoken,  Susan  the 
chambermaid,  coming  into  the  room  to  feed  her  silk- 
worms, sees  the  Spider  at  his  work;  and  with  one  stroke 
of  her  broom,  sweeps  him  away,  and  destroys  at  once  his 
labors  and  his  hopes  of  fame. 


Curtositij  often  excites  tf^ose  people  to  I^azarbous  un6e¥= 

takings,  u?I?om  nanity  anb  inbiscretion  renber 

totally  unfit  for  tf^em. 

THE  TORTOISE  AND  THE  TWO  DUCKS. 

A  Tortoise,  weary  of  passing  her  days  in  the  same  ob- 
scure corner,  conceived  a  wonderful  inclination  to  visit 
foreign  countries.  Two  Ducks,  whom  the  simple  Tortoise 
acquainted  with  her  intention,  undertook  to  oblige  her 
upon  the  occasion.  Accordingly  they  told  her,  that  if  she 
would  fasten  her  mouth  to  the  middle  of  a  pole,  they 


THE  TWO  SPRINGS.  Ill 

would  take  the  two  ends,  and  transport  her  wherever  she 
chose  to  be  conveyed.  The  Tortoise  approved  of  the 
expedient;  and  everything  being  prepared,  the  Ducks  be- 
gan their  flight  with  her.  They  had  not  traveled  far  in 
the  air,  when  they  were  met  by  a  Crow,  who  inquiring 
what  they  were  bearing  along,  they  replied,  the  queen 
of  the  tortoises.  The  Tortoise,  vain  of  the  new  and  un- 
merited appellation,  was  going  to  confirm  the  title,  when 
opening  her  mouth  for  that  purpose,  she  let  go  her  hold, 
and  was  dashed  to  pieces  by  her  fall. 


Cljere  is  more  to  be  cxpecteb  from  stbak  anb  silent,  tf^an 
from  noisy,  turbulent  anb  ostentatious  beginnings. 

THE  TWO  SPRINGS. 

Two  Springs  which  issued  from  the  same  mountain, 
began  their  course  together;  one  of  them  took  her  way  in 
a  silent  and  gentle  stream,  while  the  other  rushed  along 
with  a  sounding  and  rapid  current.  Sister,  said  the  latter, 
at  the  rate  you  move,  you  will  probably  be  dried  up  be- 
fore you  advance  much  farther;  whereas,  for  myself,  I 
will  venture  a  wager,  that  within  two  or  three  hundred 
furlongs  I  shall  become  navigable,  and  after  distributing 
commerce  and  wealth  wherever  I  flow,  I  shall  majestically 
proceed  to  pay  my  tribute  to  the  ocean :  so  farewell,  dear 
sister,  and  patiently  submit  to  your  fate.  Her  sister  made 
no  reply;  but  calmly  descending  to  the  meadows  below, 
increased  her  stream  by  numberless  little  rills,  which  she 
collected  in  her  progress,  till  at  length  she  was  enabled 
to  rise  into  a  considerable  river;  while  the  proud  stream, 


112  i^ISOPS  FABLES. 

which  had  the  vanity  to  depend  solely  upon  her  own  suf- 
ficiency, continued  a  shallow  brook,  and  was  glad  at 
last  to  be  helped  forward,  by  throwing  herself  into  the 
arms  of  her  despised  sister 


3.t^takb  instances  of  artifice,  create  a  suspicion  tijat  is 
our  guarb  against  it. 

THE  CAT  AND  THE  OLD  RAT. 

A  certain  Cat  had  made  such  unmerciful  havoc  among 
the  vermin  of  his  neighborhood,  that  not  a  single  rat  or 
mouse  dared  venture  to  appear  abroad.  Puss  was  soon 
convinced  that  if  affairs  remained  in  their  present  situa- 
tion, he  must  be  totally  unsupplied  with  provision.  After 
mature  deliberation  therefore,  he  resolved  to  have  re- 
course to  stratagem.  For  this  purpose,  he  suspended 
himself  from  a  shelf  with  his  head  downwards,  pretend- 
ing to  be  dead.  The  rats  and  mice  observing  him,  as 
they  peeped  from  their  holes,  in  this  dangling  attitude, 
concluded  he  was  hanged  for  some  misdemeanor;  and 
with  great  joy  immediately  sallied  forth  in  quest  of  their 
prey.  Puss,  as  soon  as  a  sufficient  number  were  collected 
together,  quitting  her  hold,  dropped  into  the  midst  of 
them;  and  very  few  had  the  fortune  to  make  good  their 
retreat.  This  artifice  having  succeeded  so  well,  he  was 
encouraged  to  try  the  event  of  a  second.  Accordingly, 
he  whitened  his  coat  all  over,  by  rolling  himself  in  a  heap 
of  flour,  and  in  this  disguise  lay  concealed  in  the  bottom 
of  a  meal  tub.  Tliis  stratagem  was  executed  in  general 
with  the  same  effect  as  the  former.     But  an  old  experi- 


THE  COUNTRY  MAID  AND  HER  MILK-PAIL.       II3 

cnced  Rat,  altogetlier  as  cunning  as  her  adversary,  was 
not  so  easily  ensnared.  I  don't  much  Hke,  said  he,  that 
white  heap  yonder;  something  whispers  me,  there  is  mis- 
chief concealed  under  it.  It  is  true,  it  may  be  meal;  but 
it  may  likewise  be  something  that  I  shall  not  relish  quite 
so  well.  There  can  be  no  harm,  at  least,  in  keeping  at 
a  proper  distance,  for  caution,  I  am  sure,  is  the  parent 
of  security. 


IDfjen  tt)c  btDell  muci?  on  bistattt  anb  cF^imirical  abvaw' 

tag,iis  tDe  neglect  our  present  business,  anb  are 

exposeb  to  real  misfortune. 

THE  COUNTRY  MAID  AND  HER  MILK-PAIL. 


A  Country  Maid  was  walking  very  deliberately  with  a 
pail  of  milk  upon  her  head,  when  she  fell  into  the  follow- 
ing train  of  reflections.  The  money  for  which  I  shall 
sell  this  milk,  will  enable  me  to  increase  my  stock  of  eggs 
to  three  hundred.  These  eggs,  allowing  for  what  may 
prove  addled,  and  what  may  be  destroyed  by  vermin,  will 
produce  at  least  two  hundred  and  fifty  chickens.  The 
chickens  will  be  fit  to  carry  to  market  about  Christmas, 
when  poultry  always  bears  a  good  price ;  so  that  by  May- 
day, I  cannot  fail  of  having  money  enough  to  purchase  a 


114 


^SOPS  FABLES. 


new  gown.  Green — let  me  consider, — yes,  green  be- 
comes my  complexion  best,  and  green  it  shall  be.  In 
this  dress  I  will  go  to  the  fair,  where  all  the  young  fel- 
lows will  strive  to  have  me  for  a  partner;  but  I  shall 


perhaps  refuse  every  one  of  them,  and  with  an  air  of 
disdain  toss  from  them.  Transported  with  this  triumphant 
thought,  she  could  not  forbear  acting  with  her  head  what 
thus  passed  in  her  imagination,  when  down  came  the  pail 
of  milk,  and  all  her  imaginary  happiness  vanished  like  a 
dream. 


THE  CORMORANT  AND  THE  FISHES.  II5 

3t  \5  extreme  folly  to  ash.  abmce  of  an  interesteb  abriscr. 

THE  CORMORANT  AND  THE  FISHES. 

A  Cormorant  whose  eyes  were  become  so  dim  by  age, 
that  he  could  not  discern  his  prey  at  the  bottom  of  the 
waters,  bethought  himself  of  a  stratagem  to  supply  his 
wants.  Hark  you,  friend,  said  he,  to  a  Gudgeon  whom 
he  observed  swimming  near  the  surface  of  a  certain  canal, 
if  you  have  any  regard  for  yourself  or  your  brethren,  go 
this  moment  and  acquaint  them  from  me,  that  the  owner 
of  this  piece  of  water  is  determined  to  drag  it  a  week 
hence.  The  Gudgeon  immediately  swam  away,  and 
made  his  report  of  this  terrible  news  to  a  general  as- 
sembly of  the  fish:  who  unanimously  agreed  to  send  him 
back  as  their  embassador  to  the  Cormorant.  The  purport 
of  his  commission  was  to  return  him  their  thanks  for  the 
intelligence;  and  to  add  their  entreaties,  that,  as  he  had 
been  so  good  as  to  inform  them  of  their  danger,  he 
would  be  graciously  pleased  to  put  them  into  a  method 
of  escaping  it.  That  I  will,  most  readily,  returned  the 
artful  Cormorant,  and  assist  you  with  my  best  services 
into  the  bargain.  You  have  only  to  collect  yourselves 
together  at  the  top  of  the  water,  and  I  will  undertake  to 
transport  you  safely  one  by  one  to  my  own  residence,  by 
the  side  of  a  solitary  pool,  to  which  no  creature  but  my- 
self ever  found  the  way.  The  project  was  perfectly  well 
approved  by  the  unwary  fish,  and  with  great  expedition 
executed  by  the  deceitful  Cormorant;  who  having  placed 
them  in  a  shallow  water,  the  bottom  of  which  his  eye 
could  easily  discern,  they  were  all  devoured  by  him  in 
their  turns,  as  his  hunger  or  his  luxury  required. 


1  1 6  iESOPS  FABLES. 

Cl?c  injuries  tDC  bo,  anb  tl}ose  tre  suffer,  arc  solbom 
ipcigl^cb  in  tl}C  same  scales. 

THE  PARTIAL  JUDGE. 

A  Farmer  came  to  a  neighboring  Lawyer,  expressing 
great  concern  for  an  accident  which  he  said  had  just 
happened.  One  of  your  oxen,  continued  he,  has  been 
gored  by  an  unlucky  bull  of  mine,  and  I  should  be  glad 
to  know  how  I  am  to  make  you  reparation.  Thou  art  a 
very  honest  fellow,  replied  the  Law^yer,  and  wilt  not  think 
it  unreasonable  that  I  expect  one  of  thy  oxen,  in  return. 
It  is  no  more  than  justice,  quoth  the  Farmer,  to  be  sure; 
but  what  did  I  say? — I  mistake — It  is  your  bull  that  has 
killed  one  of  my  oxen.  Indeed!  says  the  Lawyer,  that 
alters  the  case;  I  must  inquire  into  the  affair,  and  if — 
And  if!  said  the  Farmer — the  business  I  find  would  have 
been  concluded  without  an  if,  had  you  been  as  ready  to 
do  justice  to  others,  as  to  exact  it  from  them. 


^e  wl}o  Msputes  tt?e  existence  of  a  beity,  tDtll  finb  t^itnself 
confuteb  bij  cpery  part  of  nature. 

THE  ATHEIST  AND  THE  ACORN. 

It  was  the  fool  who  said  in  his  heart.  There  is  no  God ; 
into  the  breast  of  a  wise  man,  such  a  thought  could  never 
have  entered.  One  of  those  refined  reasoners  common- 
ly called  minute  philosophers,  was  sitting  at  his  ease  be- 
neath the  shade  of  a  large  oak,  while  at  his  side  the  weak 


THE  LYNX  AND  THE  MOLE.  H/ 

branches  of  a  pumpkin  were  trailed  upon  the  ground. 
This  put  our  great  logician  into  his  old  train  of  reason- 
ing against  providence.  Is  it  consistent  with  common 
sense,  said  he,  that  infinite  wisdom  should  create  so  large 
and  stately  a  tree,  with  branches  of  such  prodigious 
strength,  to  bear  so  small  and  insignificant  a  fruit  as  an 
acorn?  Or  that  so  weak  a  stem  as  that  of  a  pumpkin 
should  be  loaded  w-ith  so  disproportioned  a  weight?  A 
child  may  see  the  absurdity  of  it.  In  the  midst  of  this 
curious  speculation,  down  dropped  an  acorn,  from  one  of 
the  highest  branches  of  the  oak,  full  upon  his  head.  How 
small  a  trifle  may  overturn  the  systems  of  fallible  men! 
Struck  with  the  accident,  he  could  not  help  crying  out, 
How  providential  it  is  that  this  was  not  a  pumpkin! 


IDe  sf^oulb  use  tf?c  talents  tijat  are  allotteb,  anb  are  most 
suitable  to  our  species,  insteab  of  bisparaging  tfjose 
faculties  tfjat  are  as  properly  abapteb  to  anotljer. 

THE  LYNX  AND  THE  MOLE. 

Under  the  covert  of  a  thick  wood,  at  the  foot  oi  a 
tree,  as  a  Lynx  lay  whetting  his  teeth,  and  waiting  for  his 
prey,  he  espied  a  Mole,  concealed  under  a  hillock  of  her 
own  raising.  Alas,  poor  creature,  said  the  Lynx,  how 
much  I  pity  thee!  Surely  Jupiter  has  been  very  un- 
kind, to  debar  thee  from  the  light  of  the  day,  which  re- 
joices the  whole  creation.  Tliou  art  certainly  not  above 
half  alive ;  and  it  would  be  doing  thee  a  service,  to  put  an 
end  to  so  unanimated  a  being.  I  thank  you  for  your 
kindness,  replied  the  Mole,  but  I  think  I  have  full  as 


Il8  /liSOPS  FABLES. 

niucli  vivacity  as  my  state  and  circumstances  require. 
For  the  rest,  I  am  perfectly  well  contented  with  the  facul- 
ties which  Jupiter  has  allotted  me,  who  I  am  sure  wants 
not  our  direction  in  distributing  his  gifts  with  propriety. 
I  have  not,  'tis  true,  your  piercing  eyes;  but  I  have  ears 
which  answer  all  my  purposes  full  as  well.  Hark!  for 
example,  I  am  warned,  by  a  noise  which  I  hear  behind 
you,  to  Hy  from  danger.  So  saying,  he  slunk  into  the 
earth,  while  a  javelin  from  the  arm  of  a  hunter  pierced 
this  quick-sighted  lynx  to  the  heart. 


Ct?c  greatest  genius  miti)  a  utnbtctii»e  temper  is  far  sur= 

passeb  in  point  of  Ijappiness  by  men  of 

talents  less  consiberable. 

THE  BEE  AND  THE  FLY. 

A  Bee  observing  a  Fly  frisking  about  her  hive,  asked 
him  in  a  very  passionate  tone,  what  he  did  there?  Is  it 
for  such  scoundrels  as  you,  said  he,  to  intrude  into  the 
company  of  the  queens  of  the  air?  You  have  great  rea- 
son, truly,  replied  the  Fly,  to  be  out  of  humor;  I  am  sure 
they  must  be  mad,  who  would  have  any  concern  with 
so  quarrelsome  a  nation.  And  why  so?  thou  saucy  mala- 
pert, returned  the  enraged  Bee;  we  have  the  best  laws, 
and  are  governed  by  the  best  policy  in  the  world.  We 
feed  upon  the  most  fragrant  flowers,  and  all  our  business 
is  to  make  honey ;  honey,  which  equals  nectar,  thou  unsa- 
vory wretch,  who  livest  upon  nothing  but  putrefaction 
and  excrement.  We  live  as  we  can,  rejoined  the  Fly;  pov- 
erty, I  hope,  is  no  crime;    but  passion    is,  I    am    sure. 


THE  COURT  OF  DEATH.  II9 

The  honey  you  make  is  sweet,  grant  you,  but 
your  heart  is  all  bitterness;  for  to  be  revenged  on  an 
enemy,  you'll  destroy  your  own  life;  and  are  so  incon- 
siderate in  your  rage,  as  to  do  more  mischief  to  yourself 
than  to  your  adversary.  Take  my  word  for  it  one  had 
better  have  less  considerable  talents  and  use  them  with 
more  discretion. 


3ntempcrance  is  tlje  great  anb  original  cause  that  gen= 
crally  sl^ortens  I^uman  life. 

THE  COURT  OF  DEATH. 

Death,  the  king  of  terrors,  on  the  anniversary  of  his 
coronation  was  determined  to  choose  his  prime  minister. 
His  pale  courtiers,  the  ghastly  train  of  diseases,  were  all 
summoned  to  attend,  and  each  preferred  his  claim  to  the 
honor  of  this  illustrious  office.  Fever  urged  the  numbers 
he  destroyed;  cold  Palsy  set  forth  his  pretensions,  by 
shaking  all  his  limbs;  and  Dropsy,  by  his  swelled  un- 
wieldy carcass.  Gout  hobbled  up.  and  alleged  his  great 
power  in  racking  every  joint;  and  Asthma's  inability 
to  speak,  was  a  strong,  though  silent  argument  in  favor 
of  his  claim.  Stone  and  Colic  pleaded  their  violence; 
Plague,  his  rapid  progress  in  destruction ;  and  Consump- 
tion, though  slow,  insisted  that  he  was  sure.  In  the 
midst  of  this  contention,  the  court  was  disturbed  with  the 
noise  of  music,  dancing,  feasting  and  revelry;  when  im- 
mediately entered  a  lady,  with  a  bold,  lascivious  air,  and 
a  flushed  and  jovial  countenance;  she  was  attended  on 
one  hand  by  a  troop  of  cooks  and  bacchanals;  and  on  the 


T20  ifiSOPS  FABLES. 

(Jtlicr,  by  a  train  of  wanton  youths  and  damsels,  who 
danced  half  naked  to  the  softest  musical  instruments ;  her 
name  was  Intemperance.  She  waved  her  hand,  and  thus 
addressed  the  crowd  of  diseases:  Give  way,  ye  sickly 
band  of  pretenders,  nor  dare  to  vie  with  my  superior 
merits  in  the  service  of  this  great  monarch.  Am  not  I 
your  parent?  the  author  of  your  beings?  Do  ye  not  de- 
rive your  power  of  shortening  human  life,  almost  wholly 
from  me?  W'^ho  then  so  fit  as  I  myself,  for  this  important 
office?  Tlie  grisly  monarch  grinned  a  smile  of  approba- 
tion, placed  her  at  his  right  hand,  and  she  immediately 
became  his  prime  favorite,  and  principal  minister. 


Ctjcrc  arc  feit)  tf^ingis  trfjtcl}  can  be  so  irreparably  lost  as 
reputation 

GENIUS,  VIRTUE,  AND  REPUTATION. 

Genius,  \'irtue,  and  Reputation,  three  great  friends, 
agreed  to  travel  over  the  island  of  Great  Britain,  to  see 
whatever  might  be  w'orthy  of  observation.  But  as  some 
misfortune,  said  they,  may  happen  to  separate  us;  let  us 
consider  before  we  set  out,  by  what  means  we  may  find 
each  other  again.  Should  it  be  my  ill  fate,  said  Genius, 
to  be  severed  from  my  friends,  which  heaven  forbid!  you 
may  find  me  kneeling  in  devotion  before  the  tomb  of 
Shakespeare;  or  rapt  in  some  grove  where  Milton  talked 
with  angels;  or  musing  in  the  grotto  where  Pope  caught 
inspiration.  Virtue,  with  a  sigh,  acknowledged,  that  her 
friends  were  not  very  numerous;  but  were  I  to  lose  you, 
she  cried,  with  whom  I  am  at  present  so  happily  united; 


THE  NOBLEMAN  AND  HIS  SON.  121 

I  should  choose  to  take  sanctuary  in  the  temples  of  re- 
ligion, in  the  palaces  of  royalty,  or  in  the  stately  domes 
of  ministers  of  state ;  but  as  it  may  be  my  ill  fortune  to  be 
there  denied  admittance,  inquire  for  some  cottage  where 
contentment  has  a  bower,  and  there  you  will  certainly 
find  me.  Ah,  my  dear  friends,  said  Reputation  very  earn- 
estly, you,  I  perceive,  when  missing,  may  possibly  be  re- 
covered ;  but  take  care,  I  entreat  you,  always  to  keep  sight 
of  me,  for  if  I  am  once  lost,  I  am  never  to  be  retrieved. 


Cf?e  means  suggested  by  superstition  to  secure  us  from 
misfortune  often  bring  it  upon  our  I?eabs. 

THE  NOBLEMAN  AND  HIS  SON. 

A  certain  Nobleman,  much  infected  by  superstition, 
dreamed  one  night  that  his  only  son,  a  youth  about  fif- 
teen years  of  age,  was  thrown  from  his  horse  as  he  was 
hunting,  and  killed  upon  the  spot.  This  idle  dream 
made  so  strong  an  impression  upon  the  weak  and  credu- 
lous father,  that  he  formed  a  resolution  never  more  to 
suffer  his  son  to  partake  of  this  his  favorite  amusement. 
The  next  morning  that  the  hounds  went  out,  the  young 
man  requested  permission  to  follow  them;  but  instead  of 
receiving  it,  as  usual,  his  father  acquainted  him  with  his 
dream,  and  peremptorily  enjoined  him  to  forbear  the 
sport.  The  youth,  greatly  mortified  at  this  unexpected 
refusal,  left  the  room  much  disconcerted,  and  it  was  with 
some  difificulty  that  he  restrained  his  passion  from  in- 
decently breaking  out  in  his  father's  presence.  But  upon 
his  return  to  his  own  apartment,  passing  through  a  gal- 


122  ^SOPS  FABLES. 

lery  of  pictures,  in  which  was  a  piece  representing  a  com- 
pany of  gypsies  telhng  a  country  girl  her  fortune.  'Tis 
owing,  said  he,  to  a  ridiculous  superstition  of  the  same 
kintl  witli  that  of  this  simple  wencli,  that  I  am  debarred 
from  one  of  the  principal  pleasures  of  my  life;  at  the 
same  time,  witli  great  emotion  siriking  his  hand  against 
the  canvas,  a  rusty  old  nail  behind  the  picture,  ran  far 
into  his  wrist.  The  pain  and  anguish  of  the  wound 
threw  the  youth  into  a  violent  fever,  which  proved  too 
powerful  for  the  skill  of  the  physicians,  and  in  a  few  days 
put  an  end  to  his  life;  illustrating  an  observation,  that  an 
over-cautious  attention  to  avoid  evils,  often  brings  them 
upon  us;  and  that  we  frequently  run  headlong  into  mis- 
fortunes by  the  very  means  we  pursue  to  avoid  them. 


(Dur  term  of  life  oocs  not  allou?  time  for  Iong=protractcb 
beliberatton. 

INDUSTRY  AND  SLOTH. 

How  many  live  in  the  world  as  useless  as  if  they  had 
never  been  born!  They  pass  through  life,  like  a  bird 
through  the  air,  and  leave  no  track  behind  them;  waste 
the  prime  of  their  days  in  deliberating  what  they  shall  do; 
and  bring  them  to  a  period,  without  coming  to  any  deter- 
mination. 

An  indolent  young  man,  being  asked  why  he  lay  in 
bed  so  long,  jocosely  and  carelessly  answered:  Every 
morning  of  my  life  I  am  hearing  long  causes.  I  have  two 
fine  girls,  their  names  are  Industry  and  Sloth,  close  at 
my  bedside,  as  soon  as  ever  1  awake,  pressing  their  dif- 


THE  PASSENGER  AND  THE  PILOT.  1 23 

terent  suits.  One  entreats  me  to  get  up,  the  other  per- 
suades me  to  lie  still;  and  then  they  alternately  give 
me  various  reasons,  why  I  should  rise,  and  why  I  should 
not.  In  the  mean  time,  as  it  is  the  duty  of  an  impartial 
judge  to  hear  all  that  can  be  said  on  either  side;  before 
the  pleadings  are  over,  it  is  time  to  go  to  dinner. 


Wc  arc  no  irberc  out  of  tl]c  read)  of  proDtbence,  citt^cr 
to  vHinifh  or  to  protect  us. 

THE  PASSENGER  AND  THE  PILOT. 

It  had  blown  a  violent  storm  at  sea,  and  the  whole 
crew  of  the  vessel  were  in  imminent  danger  of  shipwreck. 
After  the  rolling  of  the  waves  was  somewhat  abated,  a 
certain  Passenger  who  had  never  been  at  sea  before,  ob- 
serving the  Pilot  to  have  appeared  wholly  unconcerned 
even  in  their  greatest  danger,  had  the  curiosity  to  ask 
him  what  death  his  father  died.  What  death?  said  the 
Pilot:  why  he  perished  at  sea,  as  my  grandfather  did  be- 
fore him.  And  are  not  you  afraid  of  trusting  yourself 
to  an  element  that  has  proved  thus  fatal  to  your  family? 
Afraid !  by  no  means ;  why,  we  must  all  die ;  is  not  your 
father  dead?  Yes,  but  he  died  in  his  bed.  And  why 
then  are  you  not  afraid  of  trusting  yourself  to  your  bed? 
Because  I  am  there  perfectly  secure.  It  may  be  so,  re- 
plied the  Pilot;  but  if  the  hand  of  providence  is  equally 
extended  over  all  places,  there  is  no  more  reason  for  me 
to  be  afraid  of  going  to  sea,  than  for  you  to  be  afraid  of 
going  to  bed. 


124  iESOrS  FABLES. 

iri)o   ranboiu   zeal  of  incousibcratc  frienbs  is  often  as 
tjurtful  as  tl^e  wxciti)  of  enemies. 

THE  HERMIT  AND  THE  BEAR. 

A  certain  Hermit  having  done  a  good  office  to  a  Bear, 
tlic  grateful  creature  was  so  sensible  of  his  obligation, 
that  he  begged  to  be  admitted  as  the  guardian  and  com- 
panion of  his  solitude.  The  Hermit  willingly  accepted 
his  offer;  and  conducting  him  to  his  cell,  they  passed 
their  time  together  in  an  amicable  manner.  One  very  hot 
day,  the  Hermit  having  laid  him  down  to  sleep,  the  of- 
ficious Bear  employed  himself  in  driving  away  the  flies 
from  his  friend's  face.  But  in  spite  of  all  his  care,  one 
of  the  flies  perpetually  returned  to  the  attack,  and  at  last 
settled  upon  the  hermit's  nose.  Now  I  shall  have  you, 
most  certainly,  said  the  Bear;  and  with  the  best  intentions 
imaginable,  gave  him  a  violent  blow  on  the  face,  which 
very  effectually  indeed  demolished  the  fly.  but  at  the 
same  time  mangled  in  a  most  shocking  manner  his  bene- 
factor's face. 

CI  prubent  person  n?ill  not  only  prescrre  bis  innocence, 

but  mill  aroib  tl)e  consequences  of  any  secmino, 

Ijanble  I?e  may  afforb  to  tjis  oppressor. 

THE  HARE'S  EARS. 

An  Elk  having  accidently  gored  a  Lion,  the  monarch 
was  so  exasperated,  that  he  sent  forth  an  edict,  command- 
ing all  homed  beasts,  on  pain  of  death,  to  depart  his 
dominions.    A  Hare  observing  the  shadow  of  her  ears. 


JUPITER  AND  THE  HERDSMAN.  1 25 

was  much  alarmed  at  their  long  and  lofty  appearance; 
and  running  to  one  of  her  friends,  acquainted  him  that 
she  was  resolved  to  quit  the  country.  For  should  I  hap- 
pen-, said  she,  however  undesignedly,  to  give  offence  to 
my  superiors,  my  ears  may  be  construed  to  come  within 
the  horn-act.  Her  friend  smiled  at  her  apprehensions, 
and  asked,,  how  it  was  possible  that  ears  could  be  mis- 
taken for  horns?  Had  I  no  more  ears  than  an  ostrich, 
replied  the  Hare.  I  would  not  trust  them  in  the  hands  of 
an  informer;  for  truth  and  innocence  arc  arguments  of 
little  force,  against  the  logic  of  power  and  malice  in  con- 
junction. 


IPcrc  our  tII=jubo;cb  p'^'^lH'^'^  ^<^  ^^^  always  Oiranteb,  l)OW 
many  woulb  be  niinob  at  tbcir  oirii  request! 

JUPITER  AND  THE  HERDSMAN. 

A  Herdsman  missed  a  young  heifer  out  of  his  grounds, 
and,  after  having  diligently  sought  for  it  in  vain,  when  he 
could  by  no  other  means  gain  intelligence  of  it,  betook 
himself  at  last  to  his  prayers.  Great  Jupiter,  said  he, 
show  me  but  the  villain  who  has  done  me  this  injury,  and 
I  will  give  thee  in  sacrifice  the  finest  kid  from  my  flock. 
He  had  no  sooner  uttered  his  petition,  than  turning  the 
corner  of  a  wood,  he  was  struck  with  the  sight  of  a 
monstrous  lion,  preying  on  the  carcass  of  his  heifer. 
Trembling  and  pale,  O  Jupiter,  cried  he,  I  offered  thee 
a  kid  if  thou  wouldst  grant  my  petition ;  I  now  offer  thee 
a  bull,  if  thou  wilt  deliver  me  from  the  consequence  of  it. 


126  ^SOPS    FABLES. 

^Ijc  partiality  of  pavcnts  often  makes  tfjemselpes  ribi:ii= 
loiii-,  anb  tboir  offspriua,  unl)appy 

m 

THE  EAGLE  AND  THE  OWL. 

An  Eagle  and  an  Owl  having  entered  into  a  league  of 
mutual  amity,  one  of  the  articles  of  their  treaty  was,  that 
the  former  should  not  prey  upon  the  younglings  of  the 
latter.  But  tell  me,  said  the  Owl,  should  you  know  my  lit- 
tle ones  if  you  were  to  see  them?  Indeed,  I  should  not,  re- 
plied the  Eagle ;  but  if  you  will  describe  them  to  me  it  will 
be  sufificient.  You  are  to  observe  then,  returned  the  Owl, 
in  the  first  place,  that  the  charming  creatures  are  per- 
fectly well  shaped ;  in  the  next,  that  there  is  a  remarkable 
sweetness  and  vivacity  in  their  countenances;  and  then 
there  is  something  in  their  voices  so  peculiarly  melodious. 
'Tis  enough,  interrupted  the  Eagle;  by  these  marks  I 
cannot  fail  of  distinguishing  them,  and  you  may  depend 
upon  their  never  receiving  any  injury  from  me.  It  hap- 
pened not  long  afterwards,  as  the  Eagle  was  upon  the 
wing  in  quest  of  his  prey,  that  he  discovered  amidst  the 
ruins  of  an  old  castle,  a  nest  of  grim-faced,  ugly  birds, 
w^ith  gloomy  countenances,  and  voices  like  those  of  the 
furies.  These  undoubtedly,  said  he,  cannot  be  the  off- 
spring of  my  friend,  and  so  I  shall  venture  to  make  free 
with  them.  He  had  scarce  finished  his  repast  and  de- 
parted, when  the  Owl  returned;  who  finding  nothing  of 
her  brood  remaining  but  the  mangled  carcasses,  broke  out 
into  the  most  bitter  exclamations  against  the  cruel  and 
perfidious  author  of  her  calamity.  A  neighboring  Bat. 
who  overheard  her  lamentations,  and  had  been  witness 
to  what  had  passed  between  her  and  the  Eagle,  very 
gravely  told  her,  that  she  had  nobody  to  blame  for  this 


THE  FOX  THAT  HAD  LOST  HIS  TAIL. 


127 


misfortune  but  herself,  whose  bhnd  prejudices  in  favor 
of  her  children,  had  prompted  her  to  give  such  a  descrip- 
tion of  them,  as  did  not  resemble  them  in  any  one  single 
feature  or  quality. 

Parents  should  very  carefully  guard  against  that  weak 
partiality  towards  their  children,  which  renders  them 
blind  to  their  failings  and  imperfections,  as  no  disposi- 
tion is  more  likely  to  prove  prejudicial  to  their  future  wel- 
fare. 


3t  is  common  for  men  to  mist?  otl^crs  rcbuceb  to  tl^cir 

oir>n  kvd;  awb  vlk  ou.jljt  to  guavb  against  sucl} 

abrice  as  may  procccb  from  tijis  principle. 

THE  FOX  THAT  HAD  LOST  HIS  TAIL. 


A  Fox  having  been  unwarily  caught  in  a  trap,  at  length 
with  much  struggling  and  difificulty,  disengaged  himself; 
not.  however,  without  being  obliged  to  leave  his  tail  be- 
hind  him.     The  joy  he  ^.^..^.-b-^c^^ 


felt  at  his  escape,  was 
somewhat  abated  when 
he  began  to  consider  the 
price  he  had  paid  for  it, 
and  he  was  a  good  deal 
mortified  by  reflecting 
on  the  ridiculous  fig- 
ure he  should  make 
among  his  brethren, 
without  a  tail.  In  the  agitation  of  his  thoughts  upon  this 
occasion,  an  expedient  occurred  to  him  which  he  resolved 
to  try,  in  order  to  remove  this  disgraceful  singularity. 


ij8  iESOP'S  fables. 

With  this  view  he  assembled  his  tribe  together,  and  set 
forth  in  a  most  elaborate  speech,  how  much  he  had  at 
heart  whatever  tended  to  the  public  weal;  he  had  often 
thought,  he  said,  on  the  length  and  bushiness  of  their 
tails;  was  verily  persuaded  that  it  was  much  more  bur- 
densome than  ornamental,  and  rendered  them  besides  an 
easier  prey  to  their  enemies.  He  earnestly  recommended 
it  to  them,  therefore,  to  discharge  themselves  of  so  use- 
less and  dangerous  an  encumbrance.  My  good  friend, 
replied  an  old  fox,  who  had  listened  very  attentively  to 
his  harangue,  we  are  much  obliged  to  you,  no  doubt,  for 
the  concern  you  express  upon  our  account,  but  pray 
turn  about  before  the  company,  for  I  cannot  for  my  life 
help  suspecting,  that  you  would  not  be  quite  so  solicitous 
to  ease  us  of  our  tails,  if  you  had  not  unluckily  lost  your 
own. 

CI?c  poor  anb  I^clpless  unbcrgo  puntsljmcnts  for  small 
anb  tririal  offenses  wl}kl}  tijc  riclj  anb  pou^erful  C5= 
ca\^c,  \l)oml}  guilty  of  crimes  of  a  muci?  blacker  nature. 

THE  PLAGUE  AMONG  THE  BEASTS. 

A  mortal  distemper  once  raged  among  the  Beasts,  and 
swept  away  prodigious  numbers.  After  it  had  con- 
tinued some  time  without  abatement,  it  was  concluded  in 
an  assembly  of  the  brute. creation  to  be  a  judgment  in- 
flicted upon  them  for  their  sins,  and  a  day  was  appointed 
for  a  general  confession;  when  it  vv^as  agreed,  that  he 
who  appeared  to  be  the  greatest  sinner,  should  suffer 
death,  as  an  atonement  for  the  rest.  The  Fox  was  ap- 
pointed father  confessor  upon  the  occasion,  and  the  Lion 


THE  PLAGUE  AMONG   THE  BEASTS.  I29 

with  great  generosity  condescended  to  be  the  first  in 
making  public  confession.  For  my  part,  said  he,  I  must 
own  I  have  been  an  enormous  offender;  I  have  killed 
many  innocent  sheep  in  my  time ;  nay  once,  but  it  was  a 
case  of  necessity,  I  made  a  meal  of  the  shepherd.  The 
Fox,  with  much  gravity,  acknowledged  that  these  in  any 
other  than  the  king  would  have  been  inexpiable  crimes; 
but  that  his  majesty  had  certainly  a  right  to  a  few  silly 
sheep,  nay  and  to  the  shepherd,  too,  in  a  case  of  necessity. 
The  judgment  of  the  Fox  was  applauded  by  all  the  supe- 
rior savages,  and  the  Tiger,  the  Leopard,  the  Bear,  and 
the  Wolf,  made  confession  of  many  enormities  of  the  like 
sanguinary  nature,  which  were  all  palliated  or  excused 
with  the  same  lenity  and  mercy,  and  their  crimes  ac- 
counted so  venial  as  scarce  to  deserve  the  name  of  of- 
fenses. At  last,  a  poor  penitent  Ass,  with  great  con- 
trition acknowledged,  that  once  going  through  the  par- 
son's meadow,  being  very  hungry,  and  tempted  by  the 
sweetness  of  the  grass,  he  had  cropped  a  little  of  it,  not 
more  however  in  quantity  than  the  tip  of  his  tongue ;  he 
was  very  sorry  for  the  misdemeanor,  and  hoped, — Hope, 
exclaimed  the  Fox  w'ith  singular  zeal,  what  canst  thou 
hope  for,  after  the  commission  of  so  heinous  a  crime? 
What!  eat  the  parson's  grass!  O  sacrilege!  This,  this 
is  the  flagrant  wickedness,  my  brethren,  which  has  drawn 
the  wrath  of  heaven  upon  our  heads,  and  this  the  notori- 
ous offender,  whose  death  must  make  a  propitiation  for 
all  our  transgressions.  So  saying,  he  ordered  his  en- 
trails for  sacrifice,  and  the  rest  of  the  beasts  went  to 
dinner  upon  his  carcass. 


130  .ESOPS  FABLES. 

3f  U1C  trust  iiicrohi    to   outtiuirb  appearances  ire  st^all 

often  err  in  6istin^uisl}incj  betiui.vt   our 

enemies  anb  our  frienbs. 

THE  CAT,  THE  COCK,  AND  THE  YOUNG 
MOUSE. 

A  young  Mouse,  who  had  seen  very  little  of  the  world, 
came  running  one  day  to  his  mother  in  great  haste.  O, 
mother,  said  he,  I  am  frightened  almost  to  death !  I  have 
seen  the  most  extraordinary  creature  that  ever  was.  He 
has  a  fierce  angry  look,  and  struts  about  upon  two  legs. 
A  strange  piece  of  flesh  grows  upon  his  head,  and  an- 
other under  his  throat,  as  red  as  blood.  He  flapped  his 
arms  against  his  sides,  as  if  he  intended  to  rise  into  the 
air,  and  stretching  out  his  head,  he  opened  a  sharp- 
pointed  mouth  so  wide,  that  I  thought  he  was  preparing 
to  swallow  me  up;  then  he  roared  at  me  so  horribly,  that 
I  trembled  in  every  joint,  and  was  glad  to  run  home  as 
fast  as  I  could.  If  I  had  not  been  frightened  away  by 
this  terrible  monster,  I  was  just  going  to  scrape  acquaint- 
ance with  the  prettiest  creature  you  ever  saw.  She  had 
a  soft  fur  skin,  thicker  than  ours,  and  all  beautifully 
waved  with  black  and  gray;  with  a  modest  look,  and  a 
demeanor  so  humble  and  courteous  that  methought  I 
could  have  fallen  in  love  with  her.  Then  she  had  a  fine 
long  tail,  which  she  waved  about  so  prettily,  and  looked 
so  earnestly  at  me,  that  I  do  believe  she  was  just  going 
to  speak  to  me,  when  the  horrid  monster  frightened  me 
away.  Ah,  my  dear  child,  said  the  mother;  you  have  in- 
deed escaped  being  devoured  but  not  by  that  monster  you 
were  so  much  afraid  of. which  in  truth  was  only  a  bird,  and 
would  have  done  you  no  manner  of  harm.     Whereas  the 


THE  CONCEITED  OWL.  I3I 

sweet  creature,  of  whom  you  seem  so  fond,  was  no  other 
than  a  cat;  who,  under  that  hypocritical  countenance, 
conceals  the  most  inveterate  hatred  to  all  our  race,  and 
subsists  entirely  by  devouring-  mice.  Learn  from  this  in- 
cident, my  dear,  never  while  you  live  to  rely  on  outward 
appearances. 

Scl^emcs  of  ambition,  mitijout  proper  talent,  always  ter= 
mtnate  in  bisgrace. 

THE  CONCEITED  OWL. 

A  young  Owl  having  accidentally  seen  himself  in  a 
crystal  fountain,  conceived  the  highest  opinion  of  his  per- 
sonal perfections.  It  is  time,  said  he,  that  Hymen  should 
give  me  children  as  beautiful  as  myself,  to  be  the  glory 
of  the  night,  and  the  ornament  of  our  groves.  What 
pity  would  it  be,  if  the  race  of  the  most  accomplished 
of  birds  should  be  extinct  for  my  want  of  a  mate!  Happy 
the  female  who  is  destined  to  spend  her  life  with  me! 
Full  of  these  self-approving  thoughts,  he  entreated  the 
Crow  to  propose  a  match  between  him  and  the  royal 
daughter  of  the  Eagle.  Do  you  imagine,  said  the  Crow, 
that  the  noble  Eagle,  Vi'hose  pride  it  is  to  gaze  on  the 
brightest  of  the  heavenly  luminaries,  will  consent  to  marry 
his  daughter  to  you,  who  cannot  so  much  as  open  your 
eyes  whilst  it  is  day-light?  But  the  self-conceited  Owl 
was  deaf  to  all  that  his  friend  could  urge;  who  after  much 
persuasion,  was  at  length  prevailed  upon  to  undertake 
the  commission.  His  proposal  was  received  in  the  man- 
ner that  might  be  expected:  the  king  of  birds  laughed 
him  to  scorn.       However,  being  a  monarch   of  some 


1^2  i^SOP'S  FABLES 

liinuur,  he  ordered  him  to  acquaint  the  (  )\vl,  that  if  he 
would  meet  him  the  next  morning  at  sunrise  in  the  middle 
of  the  sky,  he  would  consent  to  give  him  his  daughter  in 
marriage.  The  presumptions  Owl  undertook  to  perform 
the  condition;  but  being  dazzled  with  the  sun,  and  his 
head  growing  giddy,  he  fell  from  his  height  upon  a 
rock;  from  whence  being  pursued  by  a  flight  of  birds, 
he  was  glad  at  last  to  make  his  escape  into  the  hollow  of 
an  old  oak,  where  he  passed  the  remainder  of  his  days  in 
that  obscurity  for  which  nature  designed  him. 


ilTcn  tpf^o  mebitatc  miscl^tcf  suoigci-t  t()c  same  to  otl^ers; 

anb  generally  pay   bear  for  tl]ctr  fro= 

wavb  aratification. 

THE  SICK  LION.  THE  FOX,  AND  THE  WOLF. 

A  Lion,  having  surfeited  himself  with  feasting  too  lux- 
uriously on  the  carcass  of  a  wild  boar,  was  seized  with  a 
violent  and  dangerous  disorder.  The  beasts  of  the  forest 
flocked  in  great  numbers  to  pay  their  respects  to  him 
upon  the  occasion,  and  scarce  one  was  absent  except  the 
Fox.  The  Wolf,  an  ill-natured  and  malicious  beast,  seized 
this  opportunity  to  accuse  the  Fox  of  pride,  ingratitude 
and  disaffection  to  his  majesty.  In  the  midst  of  his  in- 
vective, the  Fox  entered;  who  having  heard  part  of  the 
Wolf's  accusation,  and  observing  the  Lion's  countenance 
to  be  kindling  into  wrath,  thus  adroitly  excused  himself 
and  retorted  upon  his  accuser.  With  a  tone  of  zealous 
loyalty  he  addressed  the  assembly  thus:  May  the  king 
live  forever!  Then  turning  to  the  Lion — I  see  many  here, 
who  with  mere  lip  service  have  pretended  to  show  you 


THE  SICK  LION,  THE  FOX,  AND  THE  WOLF.      I33 

their  loyalty;  but  for  my  part,  from  the  moment  I  heard 
of  your  majesty's  illness,  neglecting  useless  compliments, 
I  employed  myself  day  and  night  to  inquire  among  the 
most  learned  physicians,  an  infallible  remedy  for  your 
disease,  and  have  at  length  happily  been  informed  of 
one.  It  is  a  plaster  made  from  part  of  the  skin  of  a  Wolf, 


taken  warm  from  his  back,  and  laid  to  your  majesty's 
stomach.  This  remedy  was  no  sooner  proposed,  than  it 
was  determined  that  the  experiment  should  be  tried,  and 
whilst  the  operation  was  performing,  the  Fox,  with  a  sar- 
castic smile,  whispered  this  useful  maxim  in  the  Wolf's 
ear  :  If  you  would  be  safe  from  harm  yourself,  learn 
for  the  future  not  to  meditate  mischief  against  others. 


134  ii;S01'S  FABLES. 

ilTcn  expostulate  to  little  purpose  u^Ijen  tt)eiv  ou^n  example 
confutes  tl^eir  avaument. 

THE  GNAT  AND  THE  BEE. 

A  Gnat  half  starved  with  cold  and  pinched  with  hunger, 
came  early  one  morning  to  a  bee-hive,  begged  the  relief 
of  charity,  and  oflfered  to  teach  music  in  the  family,  on 
the  humble  terms  of  diet  and  lodging.  The  Bee  received 
her  petitioner  with  a  cold  civility,  and  desired  to  be  ex- 
cused. I  bring  up  all  my  children,  said  she,  to  my  own 
useful  trade,  that  they  may  be  able  when  they  grow  up, 
to  get  an  honest  livelihood  by  their  industry.  Besides, 
how  do  you  think  I  could  be  so  imprudent  as  to  teach 
them  an  art,  which  I  sec  has  reduced  its  professor  to  in- 
digence and  beggary? 


3t  is  often  move  prubent  to  suppress  our  sentiments  tijan 
eitljer  to  flatter,  or  to  rail. 

THE  LION,  THE  BEAR,  AND  THE  FOX. 

The  tyrant  of  the  forest  issued  a  proclamation,  com- 
manding all  his  subjects  to  repair  immediately  to  his  royal 
den.  Among  the  rest,  the  Bear  made  his  appearance;  but 
pretending  to  be  offended  with  the  steams  which  issued 
from  the  monarch's  apartments,  he  was  imprudent 
enough  to  hold  his  nose  in  his  majesty's  presence.  This 
insolence  was  so  highly  resented,  that  the  Lion  in  a  rage 
laid  him  dead  at  his  feet.  The  Monkey,  observing  what 
had  passed,  trembled  for  his  carcass,  and  attempted  to 


THE  OWL  AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE.  I35 

conciliate  favor  by  the  most  abject  flattery.  He  began 
with  protesting,  that  for  his  part,  he  thought  the  apart- 
ments were  perfumed  with  Arabian  spices,  and  exclaim- 
ing against  the  rudeness  of  the  Bear,  admired  the  beauty 
of  his  majesty's  paws,  so  happily  formed,  he  said,  to  cor- 
rect the  insolence  of  clowns.  This  fulsome  adulation,  in- 
stead of  being  received  as  he  expected,  proved  no  less 
offensive  than  the  rudeness  of  the  Bear,  and  the  courtly 
Monkey  was  in  like  manner  extended  by  the  side  of  Sir 
Bruin.  And  now  his  majesty  cast  his  eye  upon  the  Fox. 
Well,  Reynard,  said  he,  and  what  scent  do  you  discover 
here?  Great  prince,  replied  the  cautious  Fox,  my  nose 
was  never  esteemed  my  most  distinguishing  sense,  and  at 
present  I  would  by  no  means  venture  to  give  my  opinion, 
as  I  have  unfortunately  got  a  terrible  cold. 


3t  is  natural  for  a  pcbant  to  bcspise  tfjosc  arts  tDljicl? 
polist}  our  manners,  anb  moulb  extirpate  pebantry. 

THE  OWL  AND  THE  NIGHTINGALE. 

A  formal  solemn  Owl  had  many  years  made  his  habita- 
tion in  a  grove  amongst  the  ruins  of  an  old  monastery, 
and  had  pored  so  often  over  some  mouldy  manuscripts, 
the  stupid  relics  of  a  monkish  library,  that  he  grew  in- 
fected with  the  pride  and  pedantry  of  the  place,  and  mis- 
taking gravity  for  wisdom,  would  sit  whole  days  with  his 
eyes  half  shut,  fancying  himself  profoundly  learned.  It 
happened  as  he  sat  one  evening,  half  buried  in  medita- 
tion, and  half  in  sleep,  that  a  Nightingale,  unluckily 
perching  near  him,  began  her  melodious  lays.  He  started 


13^  iESOPS  FABLES. 

from  his  reverie,  and  with  a  horrid  screech  interrupting 
licr  song; — Re  gone,  cried  he,  thou  impertinent  minstrel, 
nor  distract  with  noisy  dissonance  my  sulilime  contem- 
plations: and  know,  vain  songster,  that  harmony  con- 
sists in  trutli  alone,  which  is  gained  by  lal)orious  study; 
■and  not  in  languishing  notes,  fit  only  to  soothe  the 
ear  of  a  love-sick  maid.  Conceited  pedant,  returned  the 
Nightingale,  whose  wisdom  lies  only  in  the  feathers  that 
muffle  up  thy  unmeaning  face;  music  is  a  natural  and 
rational  entertainment,  and  though  not  adapted  to  the 
ears  of  an  Owl,  has  ever  been  relished  and  admired  by 
the  best  formed  minds. 


Harroip  niinbs  tl^ink  tt)c  system  of  tlje  unirersc  sl}0ul6 
I^apc  been  contrtpeb  to  suit  tl^nnselres  alone. 

THE  OWL  AND  THE  EAGLE. 

An  Owl  sat  blinking  in  the  trunk  of  a  hollow  tree,  and 
arraigned  the  brightness  of  the  sun.  What  is  the  use  of 
its  beams,  said  she,  but  to  dazzle  one's  eyes  so  that  one 
cannot  see  a  mouse.  For  my  part,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  con- 
ceive for  what  purpose  so  glaring  an  object  was  created. 
We  had  certainly  been  much  better  without  it.  O  foo!! 
replied  an  Eagle,  who  was  perched  on  a  branch  of  the 
same  tree,  to  rail  at  excellence  which  thou  canst  not 
taste,  and  not  to  perceive  that  the  fault  is  not  in  the  sun. 
but  in  thyself.  All,  it  is  true,  have  not  faculties  to  under- 
stand, or  powers  to  enjoy  the  benefits  of  it;  but  must  the 
business  and  the  pleasures  of  the  world  be  obstructed, 
that  an  owl  mav  catch  mice? 


THE  WOLF  AND  THE  KID. 


137 


3t  is  easy  to  be  bvavc  from  a  safe  btstance. 
THE  WOLF  AND  THE  KID. 

A  Kid  was  perched  up  on  the  top  of  a  house,  and 
looking  down  saw  a  Wolf  passing  under  him.  Imme- 
diately he  began  to  revile  and  attack  his  enemy.     Mur- 


derer and  thief,  he  cried,  what  do  you  here  near  honest 
folks'  houses?  How  dare  you  make  an  appearance 
where  your  vile  deeds  are  known? 

Curse  away,  my  young  friend,  said  the  W^olf. 


138  iCSOPS  FABLES. 

CI?c   ir»aut5  anb  weaknesses  of  inbiDtbuals  form  tl;e 
connections  of  society 

THE  BLIND  MAN  AND  THE  LAME. 

A  Blind  Man  being  stopped  in  a  bad  piece  of  road, 
meets  with  a  Lame  Man,  and  entreats  him  to  guide  him 
through  the  difficulty  he  was  got  into.  How  can  I  do 
that,  replied  the  Lame  Man,  since  I  am  scarce  able  to 
drag  myself  along?  but  as  you  appear  to  be  very  strong,  if 
you  will  carry  me,  we  will  seek  our  fortunes  together. 
It  will  then  be  my  interest  to  warn  you  of  anything  that 
may  obstruct  your  way;  your  feet  shall  be  my  feet,  and 
my  eyes  yours.  With  all  my  heart,  returned  the  Blind 
Man;  let  us  render  each  other  our  mutual  services.  So 
taking  his  lame  companion  on  his  back,  they  by  means 
of  their  union  traveled  on  with  safety  and  pleasure. 


CI?e  greater  room  tijere  appears  for  resentment,  ttje  more 

careful  sljoulb  toe  be  not  to  accuse  an 

innocent  person. 

THE  FARMER  AND  HIS  DOG. 

A  Farmer  who  had  just  stepped  into  his  field  to  mend 
a  gap  in  one  of  his  fences,  found  at  his  return,  the 
cradle  where  he  had  left  his  only  child  asleep,  turned  up- 
side down,  the  clothes  all  torn  and  bloody,  and  his  Dog 
lying  near  it  besmeared  also  with  blood.  Immediately 
conceiving  that  the  creature  had  destroyed  his  child,  he 


THE  ANT  AND  THE  CATERPILLAR.  I39 

instantly  dashed  out  his  brains  with  the  hatchet  in  his 
hand,  when  turning  up  the  cradle,  he  found  his  child 
unliurt,  and  an  enormous  serpent  lying  dead  on  the  floor, 
killed  by  that  faithful  Dog,  whose  courage  and  fidelity  in 
preserving  the  life  of  his  son,  deserved  another  kind  of 
reward;  these  affecting  circumstances  afforded  him  a 
striking  lesson,  how  dangerous  it  is  too  hastily  to  give 
way  to  the  blind  impulse  of  a  sudden  oassion. 


Boys  of  no  uery  promising  appearance  often  make  tl?e 
greatest  men. 

THE  ANT  AND  THE  CATERPILLAR. 

xA.s  a  Caterpillar  was  creeping  very  slowly  along  one  of 
the  alleys  of  a  beautiful  garden,  he  was  met  by  a  pert 
lively  Ant,  who,  tossing  up  her  head  with  a  scornful  air, 
cried:  Prithee  get  out  of  the  way,  thou  poor  creeping 
animal,  and  do  not  presume  to  obstruct  the  paths  of  thy 
superiors,  by  crawling  along  the  road,  and  besmearing 
the  walks  appropriated  to  their  footsteps.  Poor  crea- 
ture! thou  lookest  like  a  thing  half  made,  which  nature 
not  liking  threw  by  unfinished.  I  could  almost  pity 
thee,  methinks,  but  it  is  beneath  one  of  my  quality  to  talk 
to  such  little  mean  creatures  as  thee;  and  so,  poor,  creep- 
ing wretch,  adieu. 

The  humble  Caterpillar,  struck  dumb  with  this  disdain- 
ful language,  retired,  went  to  work,  wound  himself  up  in 
a  silken  cell,  and  at  the  appointed  time  came  out  a  beauti- 
ful butterfly.  Just  as  he  was  issuing  forth,  he  observed 
the  scornful  x-\nt  passing  by.    Stop  a  moment,  madam. 


140  iESOPS  FABLES. 

said  he,  and  listen  to  what  I  shall  say.  Let  me  advise  you 
never  to  despise  any  one  for  his  condition,  as  there  are 
none  so  mean  but  they  may  one  day  change  their  fortune. 
You  behold  me  now  exalted  in  the  air,  whereas  you  must 
creep  as  long  as  you  live. 


CI?c  most  important  acts  of  c^ratitube  are  often  performeb 
by  tl?e  most  unlikely  instruments. 

THE  DOVE  AND  THE  ANTS. 

We  should  always  be  ready  to  do  good  offices,  even  to 
the  meanest  of  our  fellow  creatures,  as  there  is  no  one  to 
whose  assistance  we  may  not,  upon  some  occasion  or 
other,  be  greatly  indebted. 

A  Dove  was  sipping  from  the  banks  of  a  rivulet,  when 
an  Ant,  who  was  at  the  same  time  trailing  a  grain  of  corn 
along  the  edge  of  the  brook,  inadvertently  fell  in.  The 
Dove  observing  the  helpless  insect  struggling  in  vain  to 
reach  the  shore,  was  touched  with  compassion,  and  pluck- 
ing a  blade  of  grass,  dropped  it  into  the  stream ;  by  means 
of  which  the  poor  Ant,  like  a  ship-Vv'recked  sailor  upon  a 
plank,  got  safe  to  land.  She  had  scarcely  arrived  there, 
when  she  perceived  a  fowler  just  going  to  discharge  his 
piece  at  her  deliverer;  upon  which  she  instantly  crept  up 
his  foot  and  stung  him  on  the  ankle.  The  sportsman 
starting,  occasioned  a  rustling  among  the  boughs,  which 
alarmed  the  Dove,  who  immediately  sprung  up,  and  by 
that  means  escaped  the  danger  with  which  she  was  threat- 
ened. 


THE  HARES  AND  THE  FROGS. 


141 


C{?cre  is  almays  some  one  worse  off  ttjan  oursclpcs. 

THE  HARES  AND  THE  FROGS. 

The  Hares  were  so  persecuted  by  the  other  beasts 
they  did  not  know  where  to  go.  As  soon  as  they  saw  a 
single  animal  approach  them,  off  they  used  to  run.  One 
day  they  saw  a  troop  of  wild  Horses  stampeding  about, 
and  in  quite  a  panic  all  the  Hares  scuttled  off  to  a  lake 
hard  by,  determined  to  drown  themselves  rather  than  live 
in  such  a  continual  state  of  fear.  But  just  as  they  got 
near  the  bank  of  the  lake,  a  troop  of  Frogs,  frightened 
in  their  turn  by  the  approach  of  the  Hares,  scuttled  off, 
and  jumped  into  the  water.  Truly,  said  one  of  the  Hares, 
things  are  not  so  bad  as  they  seem. 


142  .ESOPS  FABLES. 

Cfjc  superior  safety  of  an  obscure  anb  IjumMe  station  is 
a  balance  for  tl^c  Ijonors  of  a  l)ial?  anb  cnoicb  life. 

THE  TWO  LIZARDS. 

As  two  Lizards  were  basking  under  a  south  wall,  how 
contemptible,  said  one  of  them,  is  our  condition!  We 
exist,  it  is  true,  but  that  is  all,  for  we  hold  no  sort  of  rank 
in  the  creation,  and  are  utterl}-  unnoticed  by  the  world. 
Cursed  obscurity!  Why  was  I  not  rather  born  a  Stag, 
to  range  at  large,  the  pride  and  glory  of  some  royal  for- 
est? It  happened  that  in  the  midst  of  these  unjust  mur- 
murs, a  pack  of  Hounds  was  heart  in  full  cry  after  the 
very  creature  he  was  envying,  who  being  quite  spent  with 
the  chase,  was  torn  in  pieces  by  the  dogs  in  sight  of  our 
two  Lizards.  And  is  this  the  lordly  Stag,  whose  place  in 
the  creation  you  wished  to  hold?  replied  the  wiser  Lizard 
to  his  complaining  friend.  Let  his  sad  fate  teach  you  to 
bless  providence  for  placing  you  in  that  humbler  situa- 
tion, w'hich  secures  you  from  the  dangers  of  a  more  ele- 
vated rank. 


Ctjc  object  of  our  ptibe  is  often  tlfc  cause  of  our  misfortune. 
THE  TWO  HORSES. 

Two  Horses  were  traveling  the  road  together,  one  load- 
ed with  a  sack  of  flour,  the  other  with  a  sum  of  money. 
The  latter,  proud  of  his  splendid  burden,  tossed  his  head 
with  an  air  of  conscious  superiority,  and  every  now  and 
then  cast  a  look  of  contempt  upon  his  humble  compan- 


THE  TWO  FOXES.  143 

ion.  In  passing  through  a  wood,  they  were  met  by  a 
gang  of  highwaymen,  who  immediately  seized  upon  the 
horse  that  was  carrying  the  treasure;  but  the  spirited 
steed,  not  being  altogether  disposed  to  stand  so  quietly 
as  was  necessary  for  their  purpose,  they  beat  him  most 
unmercifully,  and  after  plundering  him  of  his  boasted 
load,  left  him  to  lament  at  his  leisure  the  cruel  wounds 
he  had  received.  Friend,  said  his  despised  companion  to 
him,  who  had  now  reason  to  triumph  in  his  turn,  distin- 
guished posts  are  often  dangerous  to  those  who  possess 
them ;  if  you  had  served  a  miller,  as  I  do,  you  might  have 
traveled  the  road  unmolested. 


IDe  sljoulb  epcr  q,natb  against  Itjose  r>tcc5  ttjat  are  ctjtefly 
incibcnt  to  our  time  of  life:  excess  anb  riot,  tpEjtIe  toe  are 
young,,  anb  egregious  parsimony,  as  voz  grotr»  in  years. 

THE  TWO  FOXES. 

Two  Foxes  formed  a  strategem  to  enter  a  hen  roost, 
which  having  successfully  executed,  and  killed  the  cock, 
the  hens  and  the  chickens,  they  began  to  feed  upon  them 
with  singular  satisfaction.  One  of  the  Foxes,  who  was 
young  and  inconsiderate,  was  for  devouring  them  all  upon 
the  spot;  the  other,  who  was  old  and  covetous,  proposed 
the  reserving  some  of  them  for  another  time.  For  experi- 
ence, child,  said  he,  has  made  me  wise,  and  I  have  seen 
many  unexpected  events  since  I  came  into  the  world. 
Let  us  provide,  therefore,  against  what  may  happen,  and 
not  consume  all  our  store  at  one  meal.  All  this  is  won- 
drous wise,  replied  the  young  Fox,  but  for  my  part,  I  am 
resolved  not  to  stir  till  I  have  eaten  as  much  as  wdll  serve 


144  /ESOPS  FABLES. 

mc  a  whole  week;  for  who  would  be  mad  enough  to  re- 
turn hither?  It  is  certain  the  owner  of  these  fowls  will 
watch  for  us,  and  if  he  should  catch  us,  would  infallibly 
put  us  to  death.  After  this  short  discourse,  each  pursued 
his  own  fancy:  the  young  Fox  ate  till  he  burst  himself, 
and  had  scarcely  strength  to  reach  his  hole  before  he  died. 
The  old  one,  who  thought  it  much  better  to  deny  his  ap- 
petite for  t'hc  present,  and  lay  up  provision  for  the  future, 
returned  the  next  day,  and  was  killed  by  the  farmer.  Thus 
every  age  has  its  peculiar  vice :  the  young  suffer  by  their 
insatiable  thirst  after  pleasure,  and  the  old,  by  their  in- 
corrigible and  inordinate  avarice. 


Pcr50ii5  may  tDrite  fine  systems  of  morality  icljo  nerer 
practiceb  a  sttigle  rirtue. 

THE  FOX  AND  THE  CAT. 

Nothing  is  more  common  than  for  men  to  condenm  the 
very  same  actions  in  others,  which  they  practice  them- 
selves whenever  occasion  offers. 

A  Fox  and  a  Cat  having  made  a  party  to  travel  to- 
gether, beguiled  the  tediousness  of  their  journey  by  a  va- 
riety of  philosophical  conversations.  Of  all  the  moral 
virtues,  exclaimed  Reynard,  mercy  is  sure  the  noblest! 
What  say  you,  my  sage  friend,  is  it  not  so?  Undoubt- 
edly, replied  the  Cat,  with  a  most  demure  countenance; 
nothing  is  more  becoming,  in  a  creature  of  any  sensi- 
bilitv.  than  a  compassionate  disposition.  While  they 
were  thus  philosophizing,  and  mutually  complimenting 
each  other  on  the  wisdom  of  their  respective  reflections, 
a  Wolf  darted  out  from  a  wood  upon  a  flock  of  Sheep 


THE  MOCKING-BIRD.  1 45 

which  were  feeding  in  an  adjacent  meadow,  and  with- 
out being  the  least  affected  by  the  moving  lamenta- 
tions of  a  poor  Lamb,  devotired  it  before  their  eyes. 
Horrible  cruelty!  exclaimed  the  Cat;  why  does  he  not 
feed  on  vermin,  instead  of  making  his  barbarous  meals 
on  such  innocent  creatures?  Reynard  agreed  with  his 
friend  in  the  observation,  to  which  he  added  several 
very  pathetic  remarks  on  the  odiousness  of  a  sanguinary 
temper.  Their  indignation  was  rising  in  its  warmth  and 
zeal,  when  they  arrived  at  a  little  cottage  by  the  way- 
side, where  the  tender-hearted  Reynard  immediately  cast 
his  eye  upon  a  fine  Cock  that  was  strutting  about  in 
the  yard.  And  now  adieu  moralizing:  he  leaped  over 
the  pales,  and  without  any  sort  of  scruple  demolished 
his  prize  in  an  instant.  In  the  meanwhile,  a  plump  Rat 
which  ran  out  of  the  stable,  totally  put  to  flight  our  Cat's 
philosophy,  who  fell  to  the  repast  without  the  least  com- 
miseration. 

Hibiculc  appears  witl}  a  r>cry  ill  grace  in  person?  wl}0 
possess  no  one  talent  besibe. 

THE  MOCKIXG-BIRD. 

There  is  a  certain  bird  in  the  West  Indies,  which  has 
the  faculty  of  mimicing  the  notes  of  every  other  songster, 
without  being  able  himself  to  add  any  original  strains  to 
the  concert.  As  one  of  these  Mocking-birds  w^as  dis- 
playing his  talent  of  ridicule  among  the  branches  of  a 
venerable  wood:  It  is  very  well,  said  a  little  songster, 
speaking  in  the  name  of  all  the  rest,  we  grant  you  that 
our  music  is  not  without  its  faults,  but  why  will  you  not 
favor  us  with  a  strain  of  your  own? 


14('> 


^-SOPS  FABLES. 


Hott^inoi  escapes  tljc  oyc  of  the  nuistcr. 
THR   llAR'r    IX    THE   OX-STALL. 

A  Hart  hotly  pursiul  by  the  hounds  fled  for  refuge  into 
an  ox-stall,  and  buried  itself  in  a  truss  of  hay,  leaving; 
nothing-  to  be  seen  but  the  tips  of  his  horns.  Soon  after 
the  Hunters  came  up  and  asked  if  any  one  had  seen  the 
Hart.  The  stable  boys,  who  had  been  resting  after  their 
dinner,  looked  round,  but  could  see  nothing,  and  the 


Hunters  went  aw-ay.  Shortly  afterwards  the  master  came 
in,  and  looking  round,  saw  that  something  unusual  had 
taken  place.  He  pointed  to  the  truss  of  hay  and  said: 
What  are  those  two  curious  things  sticking  out  of  the 
hay?  And  when  the  stable  boys  came  to  look  they  dis- 
covered the  Hart,  and  soon  made  an  end  of  him.  He 
thus  learnt  that  the  servant's  eye  is  not  so  keen  as  that 
of  the  master. 


THE   HOUNDS  IN  COUPLES.  I47 

21TutuaI    compliances  arc  necessary   to  matrimonial 
Ijappiness. 

THE  HOUNDS  IX  COUPLES. 

A  Huntsman  was  leading  forth  his  Hounds  one  morn- 
ing to  the  chase,  and  had  Hnked  several  of  the  young  dogs 
in  Couples,  to  prevent  their  following  every  scent,  and 
hunting  disorderly,  as  their  own  inclinations  and  fancy 
should  direct  them.  Among  others,  it  was  the  fate  of 
Jowler  and  \^ixen  to  be  thus  yoked  together.  Jowler 
and  Mxen  were  both  young  and  inexperienced,  but  had 
for  some  time  been  constant  companions,  and  seemed  to 
have  entertained  a  great  fondness  for  each  other;  they 
used  to  be  perpetually  playing  together,  and  in  any  quar- 
rel that  happened,  always  took  one  another's  part;  it 
might  have  been  expected  therefore  that  it  would  not  be 
disagreeable  to  them  to  be  still  more  closely  united.  How- 
ever in  fact  it  proved  otherwise;  they  had  not  been  long 
joined  together  before  both  parties  begun  to  express  un- 
easiness at  their  present  situation.  Different  inclinations 
and  opposite  wills  began  to  discover  and  to  exert  them- 
selves :  if  one  chose  to  go  this  way,  the  other  was  as  eager 
to  take  the  contrary;  if  one  was  pressing  forward,  the 
other  was  sure  to  lag  behind ;  Mxen  pulled  back  Jowler, 
and  Jowler  dragged  along  Vixen;  Jowler  growled  at 
Vixen,  and  Vixen  snapped  at  Jowler,  till  at  last  it  came  to 
a  downright  quarrel  between  them;  and  Jowler  treated 
Vixen  in  a  very  rough  and  ungenerous  manner,  without 
any  regard  to  the  inferiority  of  her  strength,  or  the  ten- 
derness of  her  sex.  As  they  were  thus  continually  vexing 
and  tormenting  one  another,  an  old  hound,  who  had  ob- 
served all  that  passed,  came  up  to  them,  and  thus  reproved 
10 


148  yESOP'S    FABLKS. 

them :  What  a  couple  of  silly  puppies  you  are,  to  be  per- 
petually worrying-  yourselves  at  this  rate!  What  hin- 
ders your  going  on  peaceably  and  quietly  together?  Can- 
not you  compromise  the  matter  between  you  by  each  con- 
sulting the  other's  inclination  a  little!  at  least,  try  to 
make  a  virtue  of  necessity,  and  submit  to  what  you  can- 
not remedy;  you  cannot  get  rid  of  the  chain,  but  you  may 
make  it  fit  easy  upon  you.  I  am  an  old  dog,  and  let  my 
age  and  experience  instruct  you;  when  I  was  in  the  same 
circumstances  with  you,  I  soon  found  that  thwarting  my 
companion  was  only  tormenting  myself;  and  my  yoke- 
fellow happily  came  into  the  same  way  of  thinking.  We 
endeavored  to  join  in  the  same  pursuits,  and  to  follow 
one  another's  inclinations,  and  so  we  jogged  on  together, 
not  only  with  ease  and  quiet,  but  with  comfort  and  plea- 
sure. We  found  by  experience,  that  mutual  compliance 
not  only  compensates  for  liberty,  but  is  even  attended 
with  a  satisfaction  and  delight,  beyond  what  liberty  itself 
can  give. 


CI?e  pleasures  of  parental  fonbncss  make  large  amenbs 
for  all  its  aiLxieties. 

THE  OSTRICH  AND  THE  PELICAN. 

The  Ostrich  one  day  met  the  Pelican,  and  observing 
her  breast  all  bloody.  Good  God!  says  she  to  her,  what  is 
the  matter?  What  accident  has  befallen  you?  You  cer- 
tainly have  been  seized  by  some  savage  beast  of  prey,  and 
have  with  difficulty  escaped  from  his  merciless  claws.  Do 
not  be  surprised,  friend,  replied  the  Pelican;  no  such  ac- 
cident, nor  indeed  anything  more  than  common,  hath 


THE  OSTRICH  AND  THE  PELICAN.  149 

happened  to  me.     I  have  only  been  engaged  in  my  or- 
dinary employment  of  tending  my  nest,  of  feeding  my 
dear  little  ones,  and  nourishing  them  with  the  vital  blood 
from  my  bosom.     Your  answer,  returned  the  Ostrich, 
astonishes  me  still  more  than  the  horrid  figure  you  make. 
What,  is  this  your  practice,  to  tear  your  own  flesh,  to 
spill  your  own  blood,  and  to  sacrifice  yourself  in  this  cruel 
manner  to  the  importunate  cravings  of  your  young  ones? 
I  know  not  which  to  pity  most,  your  misery  or  your  folly. 
Be  advised  by  me:  have  some  regard  for  yourself,  and 
leave  off  this  barbarous  custom  of  mangling  your  own 
body;  as  for  your  children,  commit  them  to  the  care  of 
providence,  and  make  yourself  quite  easy  about  them. 
My  example  may  be  of  use  to  you.     I  lay  my  eggs  upon 
the  ground,  and  just  cover  them  lightly  over  with  sand; 
if  they  have  the  good  luck  to  escape  being  crushed  by  the 
tread  of  man  or  beast,  the  warmth  of  the  sun  broods  upon, 
and  hatches  them,  and  in  due  time  my  young  ones  come 
forth ;  I  leave  them  to  be  nursed  by  nature,  and  fostered 
by  the  elements;  I  give  myself  no  trouble  about  them,  and 
I  neither  know  nor  care  what  becomes  of  them.     Unhap- 
py wretch,  says  the  Pelican,  who  hardenest  thyself  against 
thy  own  offspring,  and  through  want  of  natural  affection 
renderest  thy  travail  fruitless  to  thyself!  who  knowest  not 
the  sweets  of  a  parent's  anxiety ;  the  tender  delights  of  a 
mother's  sufferings!  It  is  not  I,  but  thou,  that  art  cruel  to 
thy  own  flesh.     Thy  insensibility  may  exempt  thee  from 
a  temporary  inconvenience,  and  an  inconsiderable  pain, 
but  at  the  same  time  it  makes  thee  inattentive  to  a  most 
necessary  duty,  and  incapable  of  relishing  the  pleasure 
that  attends  it;  a  pleasure,  the  most  exquisite  that  nature 
hath  indulged  to  us;  in  which  pain  itself  is  swallowed  up 
and  lost,  or  only  serves  to  heighten  the  enjoyment. 


150  iESOP'S  FABLES. 

tDc  often  niif-f'  our  point  by  biinbino;  our  attention. 
THE  SXIPE  SHOOTER. 

As  a  Sportsman  ranf,a-cl  the  fields  with  his  gun,  at- 
tended by  an  experienced  old  Spaniel,  he  happened  to 
spring  a  Snipe;  and,  nearly  at  the  same  instant,  a  covey 
of  Partridges.  Suri)riscd  at  the  accident,  and  divided  in 
his  aim,  he  let  fly  too  indeterminately,  and  by  this  means 
missed  them  both.  Ah,  my  good  master,  said  the  Span- 
iel, you  should  never  have  two  aims  at  once.  Had  you 
not  been  dazzled  and  seduced  by  the  extravagant  hope 
of  Partridge,  you  would  most  probably  have  secured  your 
Snipe. 


3t  is  useless  attacktncj  tlje  insensible. 
THE  SERPENT  AND  THE  FILE. 

A  Serpent  in  the  course  of  its  wanderings  came  into 
an  armourer's  shop.  As  he  glided  over  the  floor  he  felt 
his  skin  pricked  by  a  file  lying  there.  In  a  rage  he 
turned  round  upon  it  and  tried  to  dart  his  fangs  into  it; 
but  he  could  do  no  harm  to  heavy  iron  and  had  soon 
to  give  over  his  wrath. 


THE  SERPENT  AND  THE  FILE. 


151 


li^^M0^MM'M?^!^?^^ 


152  iESOPS  FABLES. 

Co  be  set  in  a  strong  point  of  lic^t^t  is  as  farorable  to 
nicvit  as  it  is  bostructipc  to  imposture. 

THE  DIAMOND  AND  THE  GLOW-WORM. 

A  Diamond  happened  to  fall  from  the  solitaire  of  a 
young  lady  as  she  was  walking  one  evening  on  a  terrace 
in  her  garden.  A  Glow-worm  who  had  beheld  it  sparkle 
in  its  descent,  soon  as  the  gloom  of  night  had  eclipsed  its 
luster  began  to  mock  and  to  insult  it.  Art  thou  that  won- 
drous thing  that  vaunteth  of  such  prodigious  brightness? 
Where  now  is  all  thy  boasted  brilliancy?  Alas,  in  an  evil 
hour  has  fortune  thrown  thee  within  the  reach  of  my  su- 
perior blaze.  Conceited  insect,  replied  the  gem,  that 
oweth  thy  feeble  glimmer  to  the  darkness  that  surrounds 
thee;  know,  that  my  luster  bears  the  test  of  day,  and  even 
derives  its  chief  advantage  from  that  distinguishing  light, 
which  discovers  thee  to  be  no  more  than  a  dark  and  pal- 
try worm. 


©rarity,  tl^ougt?  sometimes  tl?e  mten  of  misbom,  is  often 
founb  to  be  tf)e  mask  of  ignorance. 

THE  PARROT. 

A  certain  Widower,  in  order  to  amuse  his  solitary 
hours,  and  in  some  measure  supply  the  conversation  of  bis 
departed  helpmate  of  loquacious  memory,  determined  to 
purchase  a  Parrot,  ^^'ith  this  view  he  applied  to  a  dealer 
in  birds,  who  showed  him  a  large  collection  of  parrots  of 
various  kinds.     While  they  were  exercising  their  talkative 


THE  CAT  AND  THE  BAT.  153 

talents  before  him,  one  repeating  the  cries  of  the  town, 
another  asking  for  a  cup  of  sack,  and  a  third  bawUng  out 
for  a  coach,  he  observed  a  green  Parrot,  perched  in  a 
thoughtful  manner  at  a  distance  upon  the  foot  of  a  table: 
And  so  you,  my  grave  gentleman,  said  he,  are  quite  silent. 
To  which  the  Parrot  replied,  like  a  philosophical  bird,  I 
think  the  more.  Pleased  with  this  sensible  answer,  our 
Widower  immediately  paid  down  his  price,  and  took  home 
the  bird;  conceiving  great  things  from  a  creature,  who 
had  given  so  striking  a  specimen  of  his  parts.  But  after 
having  instructed  him  during  a  whole  month,  he  found  to 
his  great  disappointment,  that  he  could  get  nothing  more 
from  him  than  the  fatiguing  repetition  of  the  same  dull 
sentence,  I  think  the  more.  I  find,  said  he  in  great  wrath, 
that  thou  art  a  most  invincible  fool,  and  ten  times  more 
a  fool  was  I,  for  having  formed  a  favorable  opinion  of  thy 
abilities  upon  no  better  foundation  than  an  affected  sol- 
emnitv. 


inclination  seems  to  fjare  got  tijc  start  of  buty,  tuljen  a»c 
seek  to  finb  it  in  books  of  casuistry. 

THE  CAT  AND  THE  BAT. 

A  Cat  having  devoured  a  favorite  Bullfinch  of  her  mas- 
ter's, overheard  him  threatening  to  put  her  to  death  the 
moment  he  could  find  her.  In  this  distress  she  preferred 
a  prayer  to  Jupiter,  vowing,  if  he  would  deliver  her  from 
her  present  danger,  that  never  while  she  lived  would  she 
eat  another  bird.  Not  long  afterwards  a  Bat  most  invit- 
ingly liew  into  the  room  where  puss  was  purring  in  the 
window.     The  question  was,  how  to  act  upon  so  tempting 


154 


^SOPS  FABLES. 


an  occasion?  Her  appciite  pressed  liard  on  one  side, 
and  her  vow  tiirew  sonic  scruples  in  her  way  on  the  other. 
At  length  she  hit  upon  a  most  convenient  distinction  to 
remove  all  difficulties,  by  determining  that  as  a  bird  in- 
deed it  was  an  unlawful  prize,  but  as  a  mouse  she  might 
very  conscientiously  eat  it,  and  accordingly  without  fur- 
ther debate  fell  to  the  repast. 

Thus  it  is  that  men  are  apt  to  impose  upon  themselves 
by  vain  and  groundless  distinctions,  when  conscience  and 
principle  are  at  variance  with  interest  and  inclination. 


CI?c  folly  of  supplying  to  otl^ers  tijc  means  of  our  own 
bcstruction. 

THE  iMAN  AND  THE  WOOD. 


A  Man  came  into  a  Wood  one  day  with  an  axe  in  his 
hand,  and  begged  all  the  Trees  to  give  him  a  small 
branch  which  he  wanted  for  a  particular  purpose.  The 
Trees   were  good-natured   and  gave  him  one  of  their 


JUPITER'S   LOTTERY. 


155 


branches.  What  did  the  Alan  do  but  fix  it  into  the  axe- 
head,  and  soon  set  to  work  cutting  down  tree  after  tree. 
Then  the  Trees  saw  how  fooHsh  they  had  been  in  giving 
their  enemy  the  means  of  destroying  themselves. 


^olli),  passing  w'ltl}  men  for  toisbom,  makes  liacl)  con-- 
tentcb  will}  l}\5  own  sfjare  of  unberstanbing. 

JUPITER'S  LOTTERY. 


Jupiter,  in  order  to  please  mankind,  directed  Alercury 
to  give  notice  that  he  had  established  a  lottery,  in  which 
there  were  no  blanks ;  and  that  amongst  a  variety  of  other 
valuable  chances,  wisdom  was  the  highest  prize.  It  was 
Jupiter's  command  that  in  this  lottery  some  of  the  gods 
should  also  become  adventurers.     The  tickets  being  dis- 


156  ^SOP'S  FABLES. 

posed  of,  and  the  wheels  placed.  Mercury  was  employed 
to  preside  at  the  drawing.  It  happened  that  the  best  prize 
fell  to  Minerva,  upon  which  a  general  murmur  ran 
through  the  assembly,  and  hints  were  thrown  out  that 
Jupiter  had  used  some  unfair  practices  to  secure  this  de- 
sirable lot  to  his  daughter.  Jupiter,  that  he  might  at  once 
punish  and  silence  these  impious  clamors  of  the  human 
race,  presented  them  with  folly  in  the  place  of  wisdom; 
with  which  they  went  away  perfectly  well  contented,  and 
from  that  time  the  greatest  fools  have  always  looked  upon 
themselves  as  the  wisest  men. 


trf?c  scales  of  3usticc  are  sclbom  poiseb  until  tl^ere  is 
little  or  notfjing  remaining  in  eitljer. 

THE  LITIGIOUS  CATS. 

Two  Cats  having  stolen  some  cheese,  could  not  agree 
about  dividing  their  prize.  In  order  therefore  to  settle 
the  dispute,  they  consented  to  refer  the  matter  to  a  Mon- 
key. The  proposed  arbitrator  very  readily  accepted  the 
ofificc,  and  producing  a  balance,  put  a  part  into  each  scale. 
Let  me  see  (said  he),  ay,  this  lump  outw^eighs  the  other; 
and  immediately  bit  off  a  considerable  piece  in  order  to 
reduce  it,  he  observed,  to  an  equilibrium.  The  opposite 
scale  was  now  become  the  heaviest,  which  afforded  our 
conscientious  judge  an  additional  reason  for  a  second 
mouthful.  Hold,  hold,  said  the  two  Cats,  who  began  to 
be  alarmed  for  the  event,  give  us  our  respective  shares, 
and  we  are  satisfied.  If  you  are  satisfied,  returned  the 
Monkey,  justice  is  not;  a  case  of  this  intricate  nature  is  by 


THE  TWO  DOGS.  157 

no  means  so  soon  determined.  Upon  which  he  contin- 
ued to  nibble  first  one  piece  and  then  the  other,  till  the 
poor  Cats,  seeing  their  cheese  gradually  diminishing,  en- 
treated him  to  give  himself  no  farther  trouble,  but  to  de- 
liver to  them  what  remained.  Not  so  fast,  I  beseech  ye, 
friends,  replied  the  Monkey;  we  owe  justice  to  ourselves 
as  well  as  to  you ;  what  remains  is  due  to  me  in  right  of 
my  office.  Upon  which,  he  stufifed  the  whole  into  his 
mouth,  and  with  great  gravity  dismissed  the  court. 


Our  own  moberatton  will  not  secure  us  from  bisturbance 

if  wz  connect  ourselpes  voiti}  men  of  turbulent 

anb  litigious  dispositions. 

THE  TWO  DOGS. 

Hasty  and  inconsiderate  connections  are  generally  at- 
tended with  great  disadvantages,  and  much  of  every  man's 
good  or  ill  fortune  depends  upon  the  choice  he  makes  of 
his  friends. 

A  good-natured  Spaniel  overtook  a  surly  MastifT,  as 
he  was  traveling  upon  the  high  road.  Tray,  although  an 
entire  stranger  to  Tiger,  very  civilly  accosted  him :  And  if 
it  would  be  no  interruption,  he  said,  he  should  be  glad  to 
bear  him  company  on  his  way.  Tiger,  who  happened  not 
to  be  altogether  in  so  growling  a  mood  as  usual,  accepted 
the  proposal ;  and  they  very  amicably  pursued  their  jour- 
ney together.  In  the  midst  of  their  conversation  they  ar- 
rived at  the  next  village,  where  Tiger  began  to  display 
his  malignant  disposition,  by  an  unprovoked  attack  upon 
every  dog  he  met.       The  villagers  immediately  sallied 


158  iP-SOPS  FAIJLES. 

forth  with  great  iiKhgnation  to  rescue  their  respective 
favorites,  and  falHiig  upon  our  two  friends  without  dis- 
tinction or  mercy,  poor  Tray  was  most  cruelly  treated,  for 
no  other  reason  l)ut  from  being  found  in  Ijad  company. 


CDiiv  ovnnions  of  tl^iiias  arc  altoyCtl]cr  as  vav'xons  as 
tljouoit}  nacl}  saw  tl^cni  tt^rouc;!?  a  biffcrcnt  ntcbium; 
our  attacl^nicnts  to  those  opinions  as  fixcb  anb  firm  as 
tl)oual?  all  saip  tbcni  tl^rouo,!}  the  mobiiim  of  tnitl). 

THE  SPECTACLES. 

Jupiter  one  ciay,  enjoying  himself  over  a  bowl  of  nectar, 
and  in  a  merry  humor,  determined  to  make  mankind  a 
present.  Momus  was  appointed  to  convey  it  to  them; 
who  mounted  on  a  rapid  car,  was  presently  on  earth. 
Come  hither,  says  he,  ye  happy  mortals,  great  Jupiter 
has  opened  for  your  benefit  his  all-gracious  hands.  It 
is  true,  he  made  you  somewhat  short-sighted,  but  to  rem- 
edv  that  inconvenience,  behold  how^  he  has  favored  you ! 
So  saying,  he  unloosed  his  portmanteau ;  an  infinite  num- 
ber of  spectacles  tumbled  out,  and  mankind  picked  them 
up  with  great  eagerness.  There  was  enough  for  all,  every 
man  had  his  pair.  But  it  was  soon  found  that  these  spec- 
tacles did  not  represent  objects  to  all  mankind  alike,  for 
one  pair  was  purple,  another  blue;  one  was  white,  and 
another  black;  some  of  the  glasses  were  red,  some  green, 
and  some  yellow.  In  short,  there  were  of  all  manner  of 
colors,  and  every  shade  of  color.  However,  notwith- 
standing this  diversity,  every  man  was  charmed  with  his 
own,  as  believing  it  the  best,  and  enjoyed  in  opinion,  all 
the  satisfaction  of  truth. 


THE  FOX  AND  THE  MASK. 


159 


(Dutsibc  sl}ow  is  a  poor  substitute  for  inner  voovtl}. 
THE  FOX  AND  THE  MASK. 

A  Fox  had  by  some  means  got  into  the  store-room  of 
a  theater.  Suddenly  he  observed  a  face  glaring  down  on 
him,  and  began  to  be  very  frightened ;  but  looking  more 
closely  he  found  it  was  only  a  Mask,  such  as  actors  use 
to  put  over  their  face.  Ah,  said  the  Fox,  you  look  very 
fine ;  it  is  a  pity  you  have  not  got  any  brains. 


l6o  JESOVS  FABLES. 

illcn  arc  sclbom  founb  to  conbcmn  tF?emscIro:r,  otl^crtt>isc 

tl)an  by  tl)c  censures  tl)ci)  pafs  upon  tl^oir 

omn  faults,  ill  otl^cr  people. 

THE  MISER  AND  THE  MAGPIE. 

As  a  Miser  sat  at  his  desk,  counting  over  his  heaps  of 
gold,  a  Magpie,  eloping  from  his  cage,  picked  up  a  gui- 
nea, and  hopped  away  with  it.  The  Miser,  who  never  fail- 
ed to  count  his  money  over  a  second  time,  immediately 
missed  the  piece,  and  rising  up  from  his  feet  in  the  utmost 
consternation,  observed  the  felon  hiding  it  in  a  crevice 
of  the  floor.  And  art  thou,  cried  he,  that  worst  of  thieves, 
who  hast  robbed  me  of  my  gold,  without  the  plea  of  neces- 
sity, and  without  regard  to  its  proper  use?  But  thy  life 
shall  atone  for  so  preposterous  a  villainy.  Soft  words, 
good  master,  quoth  the  iMagpie.  Have  I  then  injured 
you,  in  any  other  sense  than  you  defraud  the  public?  And 
am  I  not  using  your  money  in  the  same  manner  you  do 
yourself?  If  I  must  lose  my  life  for  hiding  a  single  gui- 
nea, what  do  you,  I  pray,  deserve,  who  secrete  so  many 
thousands? 

Ct  liar  u?ill  not  be  bclict)cb,  cren  wi}cn  fjc  speaks  tf?c  trutlj. 
THE  SHEPHERD'S  BOY. 

There  was  once  a  young  Shepherd  Boy  who  tended  his 
sheep  at  the  foot  of  a  mountain  near  a  dark  forest.  It 
was  rather  lonely  for  him  all  day,  so  he  thought  upon  a 
plan  by  which  he  could  get  a  little  company  and  some 
excitement.     He  rushed  down  towards  the  village  calling 


THE  SHEPHERD'S  BOY. 


l6l 


out  Wolf,  Wolf,  and  the  villagers  came  out  to  meet  him, 
and  some  of  them  stopped  with  him  for  a  considerable 
time.  This  pleased  the  boy  so  much  that  a  few  days 
afterwards  he  tried  the  same  trick,  and  again  the  villagers 
came  to  his  help.  But  shortly  after  this  a  Wolf  actually 
did  come  out  from  the  forest,  and  began  to  worry  the 
sheep,  and  the  boy  of  course  cried  out  Wolf,  Wolf,  still 
louder  than  before.  But  this  time  the  villagers,  who  had 
been  fooled  twice  before,  thought  the  boy  was  again  de- 
ceiving them,  and  nobody  stirred  to  come  to  his  help. 
So  the  Wolf  made  a  good  meal  off  the  boy's  flock,  and 
when  the  boy  complained,  the  wise  man  of  the  village 
said:  It  is  your  own  fault  if,  after  so  often  taking  your 
lie  for  a  truth  we  at  last  took  your  truth  for  a  lie. 


u 


l62  ^SOPS  FABLES. 

tEl?c  abiHintaijcs  of  moberation,  anb  extreme  follij  of 
intemperance. 

THE  TWO   BEES. 

On  n  fine  morning  in  May,  two  Bees  set  forward  in 
quest  of  honey;  the  one  wise  and  temperate,  the  other 
careless  and  extravagant.  They  soon  arrived  at  a  garden 
enriched  with  aromatic  herbs,  the  most  fragrant  flowers, 
and  the  most  dcHcioiis  fruits.  They  regaled  themselves 
for  a  time  on  the  various  dainties  that  were  spread  before 
them:  the  one  loading  his  thigh  at  intervals  with  provi- 
sions for  the  hive  against  the  distant  winter;  the  other, 
revelling  in  sweets  without  regard  to  anything  but  his 
present  gratification.  At  length  they  found  a  wide- 
mouthed  phial,  that  hung  beneath  the  bough  of  a  peach- 
tree,  filled  with  honey  ready  tempered,  and  exposed  to 
their  taste  in  the  most  alluring  manner.  The  thoughtless 
epicure,  spite  of  all  his  friend's  remonstrances,  plunged 
headlong  into  the  vessel,  resolving  to  indulge  himself  in 
all  the  pleasures  of  sensuality.  The  Philosopher,  on  the 
other  hand,  sipped  a  little  with  caution,  but  being  sus- 
picious of  danger,  flew  ofT  to  fruits  and  flowers;  where 
by  the  moderation  of  his  meals,  he  improved  his  relish  for 
the  true  enjoyment  of  them.  In  the  evening,  however, 
he  called  upon  his  friend,  to  inquire  whether  he  would 
return  to  the  hive;  but  found  him  surfeited  in  sweets, 
which  he  was  as  unable  to  leave,  as  to  enjoy.  Clogged 
in  his  wings,  enfeebled  in  his  feet,  and  his  whole  frame 
totally  enervated,  he  was  but  just  able  to  bid  his  friend 
adieu,  and  to  lament  with  his  last  breath,  that  though  a 
taste  of  pleasure  might  quicken  the  relish  of  life,  an  un- 
restrained indulgence  is  inevitable  destruction. 


DEATH  AND  CUPID.  163 

Cl?c  suggestions  of  raiuty  are  as  bclusire  as  tljose  of 
superstition. 

THE  POET  AND  THE  DEATH-WATCH. 

As  a  Poet  sat  in  his  closet,  feasting  his  imagination  on 
the  hopes  of  fame  and  immortaUty,  he  was  startled  on  a 
sudden  with  the  ominous  sound  of  a  Death-watch.  How- 
ever, immediately  recollecting  himself;  Vain  insect,  said 
he,  cease  thy  impertinent  forebodings,  sufficient  indeed 
to  frighten  the  weakness  of  women  or  of  children,  but  far 
beneath  the  notice  of  a  Poet  and  Philosopher.  As  for 
me,  whatever  accident  may  threaten  my  life,  my  fame, 
spite  of  thy  prognostics,  shall  live  to  future  ages.  May 
be  so,  replied  the  insect,  I  find  at  least,  thou  hadst  rather 
listen  to  the  maggot  in  thy  head,  than  to  the  worm  be- 
neath thy  table ;  but  know,  that  the  suggestions  of  vanity 
are  altogether  as  deceitful  as  those  of  superstition. 


trije  young  sfjoulb  not  act  as  tl^ougl?  ttjey  toere  exempt 

from  beatf);  nor  tf^e  olb  forget  to  guarb  against 

tl?e  follies  of  lore. 

DEATH  AND  CUPID. 

Jupiter  sent  forth  Death  and  Cupid  to  travel  round  the 
world,  giving  each  of  them  a  bow  in  his  hand,  and  a  qui- 
ver of  arrows  at  his  back.  It  was  ordered  by  the  disposer 
of  human  affairs  that  the  arrows  of  Love  should  only 
wound  the  young,  in  order  to  supply  the  decays  of  mortal 
11 


1^4  iESOPS  FABLES. 

men.  and  those  of  Death  were  to  strike  old  age,  and  free 
the  world  from  a  useless  cliarge.  Our  travelers  being  one 
day  extremely  fatigued  with  their  journey,  rested  them- 
selves under  the  covert  of  a  wood,  and  throwing  down 
their  arrows  in  a  promiscuous  manner  before  them,  they 
both  fell  fast  asleep.  They  had  not  reposed  themselves 
long,  before  thev  were  awakened  by  a  sudden  noise,  when 
hastily  gathering  up  their  arms,  each  in  the  confusion 
took  by  mistake  some  of  the  darts  that  belonged  to  the 
other.  By  this  means,  it  frequently  happened  that  Death 
vanquished  the  young,  and  Cupid  subdued  the  old.  Jupi- 
ter observed  the  error,  but  did  not  think  proper  to  re- 
dress it,  foreseeing  that  some  good  might  arise  from 
their  unlucky  exchange.  And  in  fact,  if  men  were  wise, 
they  would  learn  from  this  mistake  to  be  apprehensive 
of  death  in  their  youth,  and  to  guard  against  the  amor- 
ous passions  in  their  old  age. 


(Enemies'  promises  mere  mabe  to  be  broken. 
THE  NURSE  AND  THE  WOLF. 

Be  quiet  now,  said  an  old  Nurse  to  a  child  sitting  on 
her  lap.  If  you  make  that  noise  again  I  will  throw  you 
to  the  Wolf. 

Now  it  chanced  that  a  Wolf  was  passing  close  under 
the  window  as  this  was  said.  So  he  crouched  down  by 
the  side  of  the  house  and  waited.  I  am  in  good  luck 
to-day,  thought  he.  It  is  sure  to  cry  soon,  and  a  daintier 
morsel  I  haven't  had  for  many  a  long  day.  So  he  waited, 
and  he  waited,  and  he  waited,  till  at  last  the  child  began 
to  cry,  and  the  Wolf  came  forward  before  the  window, 


THE  NURSE  AND  THE  WOLF. 


165 


l66  ^SOPS  FABLES. 

and  looked  up  to  the  Nurse,  wagging  his  tail.  But  all 
the  Nurse  did  was  to  shut  down  the  window  and  call 
for  help,  and  the  dogs  of  the  house  came  rushing  out. 
Ah,  said  the  Wolf  as  he  galloped  away,  that  old  nurse  is 
no  friend  of  mine. 


CI  milb   bisposition  anb  a  vxnbktim  temper  generally 
meet  wxil)  suitable  returns. 

THE  SENSITI\E  PLANT  AND  THE  THISTLE. 

A  Thistle  happened  to  spring  up  very  near  to  a  Sensi- 
tive Plant.  The  former  observing  the  extreme  bashful- 
ness  and  delicacy  of  the  latter,  addressed  her  in  the  fol- 
lowing manner:  Why  are  you  so  modest  and  reserved, 
my  good  neighbor,  as  to  withdraw  your  leaves  at  the  ap- 
proach of  strangers?  Why  do  you  shrink  as  if  3'ou  were 
afraid,  from  the  touch  of  every  hand?  Take  example  and 
advice  from  me:  If  I  liked  not  their  familiarity,  I  would 
make  them  keep  their  distance,  nor  should  any  saucy  fin- 
ger provoke  me  unrevenged.  Our  tempers  and  qualities, 
replied  the  other,  are  widely  different;  I  have  neither  the 
ability  nor  inclination  to  give  ofifense ;  you  it  seems  are  by 
no  means  destitute  of  either.  My  desire  is  to  live  peace- 
ably in  the  station  wherein  I  am  placed;  and  though  my 
humility  may  now  and  then  cause  me  a  moment's  uneasi- 
ness, it  tends  on  the  whole  to  preserve  my  tranquillity. 
The  case  is  otherwise  with  you,  whose  irritable  temper, 
and  revengeful  disposition,  will  probably  one  time  or 
other  be  the  cause  of  your  destruction.  While  they  were 
thus  arguing  the  point,  the  gardener  came  with  his  little 


PYTHAGORAS  AND  THE  CRITIC,  167 

spade,  in  order  to  lighten  the  earth  round  the  stem  of  the 
Sensitive  Plant;  but  perceiving  the  Thistle,  he  thrust  his 
instrument  through  the  root  of  it,  and  directly  tossed  it 
out  of  his  garden. 

Cf?e  folhi  of  estimating  tl?c  wovilj  of  otf^crs  by  iVjC  sole 
stanbavb  of  our  oum  conceptions. 

PYTHAGORAS  AND  THE  CRITIC. 

Pythagoras  was  one  day  very  earnestly  engaged  in 
taking  an  exact  measure  of  the  length  of  the  Olympic 
course.  One  of  those  conceited  Critics,  who  aim  at  every 
thing,  and  are  ready  to  interpose  with  their  opinion  upon 
all  subjects,  happened  to  be  present,  and  could  not  help 
smiling  to  himself  to  see  the  Philosopher  so  employed, 
and  to  observe  what  great  attention  and  pains  he  be- 
stowed upon  such  a  business.  And  pray,  says  he,  accost- 
ing Pythagoras,  may  I  presume  to  ask,  with  what  design 
you  have  given  yourself  this  trouble?  Of  that,  replied 
the  Philosopher,  I  shall  very  readily  inform  you.  We 
are  assured,  that  Hercules,  when  he  instituted  the  Olympic 
games,  himself  laid  out  this  course  by  measure,  and  de- 
termined it  to  the  length  of  six  hundred  feet,  measuring 
it  by  the  standard  of  his  own  foot.  Now,  by  taking  an 
exact  measure  of  this  space,  and  seeing  how  much  it  ex- 
ceeds the  measure  of  the  same  number  of  feet  now  in 
use,  we  can  find  how  much  the  foot  of  Hercules,  and  in 
proportion  his  whole  stature,  exceeded  that  of  the  pres- 
ent generation.  A  very  curious  speculation,  says  the 
Critic,  and  of  great  use  and  importance,  no  doubt!  And 
so  you  will  demonstrate  to  us,  that  the  bulk  of  this  fabu- 
lous hero  was  equal  to  his  extravagant  enterprises  and 


i68  ;esops  fables. 

Ills  marvelous  exploits.  And  pray  Sir,  what  may  be  the 
result  of  your  inquiry  at  last?  1  suppose,  you  can  not  tell 
me  exactly  to  a  hair's  breadth,  how  tall  Hercules  was. 
The  result  of  my  inquiry,  replied  the  Philosopher,  is  this: 
and  it  is  a  conclusion  of  greater  use  and  importance  than 
you  seem  to  expect  from  it,  that  if  you  will  always  esti- 
mate the  labors  of  the  philosopher,  the  designs  of  the 
patriot,  and  the  actions  of  the  hero,  by  the  standard  of 
your  own  narrow  conceptions,  you  will  ever  be  greatly 
mistaken  in  your  judgment  concerning  them. 


imitation  may  be  parbonaMc,  irl^crc  emulation  iroult) 
be  presumptuous. 

THE  RED-BREAST  AND  THE  SPARROW. 

As  a  Red-breast  was  singing  on  a  tree  by  the  side  of  a 
rural  cottage,  a  Sparrow  perched  upon  the  thatch  took 
occasion  thus  to  reprimand  him:  And  dost  thou,  said 
he,  with  thy  dull  autumnal  note,  presume  to  emulate  the 
Birds  of  Spring?  Can  thy  weak  warblings  pretend  to  vie 
with  the  sprightly  accents  of  the  Thrush  and  Blackbird? 
with  the  various  melody  of  the  Lark  or  Nightingale? 
whom  other  birds  far  thy  superiors,  have  been  long  con- 
tent to  admire  in  silence.  Judge  with  candor  at  least, 
rephed  the  Robin;  nor  impute  those  efforts  to  ambition 
solely,  which  may  sometimes  flow  from  the  love  of  art.  I 
reverence  indeed,  but  by  no  means  envy,  the  birds  whose 
fame  has  stood  the  test  of  ages.  Their  songs  have 
charmed  both  hill  and  dale,  but  their  season  is  past, 
and  their  throats  are  silent.  I  feel  not,  however,  the  am- 
bition to  surpass  or  equal  them ;  my  eflforts  are  of  a  much 


THE  FOUR  OXEN   AND   THE   LION.  169 

humbler  nature,  and  I  may  surely  hope  for  pardon,  while 
I  endeavor  to  cheer  these  forsaken  valleys,  by  an  attempt 
to  imitate  the  strains  I  love. 


Itntteb  a>c  stanb,  btt)ibeb  me  fall. 
THE  FOUR  OXEN  AND  THE  LION. 

A  Lion  used  to  prowl  about  a  field  in  which  Four 
Oxen  used  to  dwell.  ]\Iany  a  time  he  tried  to  attack 
them,  but  whenever  he  came  near  they  turned  their  tails 
to  one  another,  so  that  whichever  way  he  approached 
them  he  was  met  by  the  horns  of  one  of  them.  At  last, 
how^ever,  they  fell  a-quarreling  among  themselves,  and 
each  went  off  to  pasture  alone  in  a  separate  corner  of  the 
field.  Then  the  Lion  attacked  them  one  by  one  and 
soon  made  an  end  of  all  four. 


I70  iESOPS  FABLES. 

3t  is   Ijarbli)   possible  to  bcprice  malcDoIencc  of  cpcry 
occasion  for  a  caril. 

MOMUS. 

It  is  said  that  Momus  was  perpetually  blaming  and  ridi- 
culing whatever  he  saw.  Even  the  works  of  the  gods 
themselves  could  not  escape  his  universal  censure.  The 
eyes  of  the  bull,  he  said,  were  so  placed  by  Jupiter,  that 
they  could  not  direct  his  horns  in  pushing  at  his  enemies. 
The  houses  which  Minerva  had  instructed  men  to  build, 
were  contrived  so  very  injudiciously,  that  they  could  not 
remove  them  from  a  bad  neighborhood,  nor  from  any 
other  inconvenience.  In  short,  the  frame  of  man  him- 
self was  in  his  opinion  extremely  defective,  having  no 
window  in  his  bosom  that  might  demonstrate  his  sin- 
cerity, or  betray  his  wicked  purposes  and  prevent  their 
execution.  These  and  many  other  faults  were  found  in 
the  productions  of  nature,  but  when  he  surveyed  the 
works  of  art,  there  was  no  end  of  his  altercations.  Jupi- 
ter, being  resolved  to  try  how  far  his  malice  would  pro- 
ceed, sent  his  daughter  Venus  to  desire  that  he  would 
give  his  opinion  of  her  beauty.  She  appeared  accord- 
ingly before  the  churlish  god,  trembling  at  the  apprehen- 
sion of  his  known  severity.  He  examined  her  propor- 
tions with  all  the  rigor  of  an  envious  critic.  }jut  her 
shape  and  complexion  were  so  striking,  and  her  smiles 
and  graces  so  very  engaging,  that  he  found  it  impossible 
to  give  the  least  color  to  any  objection  he  could  make. 
Yet,  to  show  how  hard  malevolence  will  struggle  for  a 
cavil:  as  she  w'as  retiring  from  his  presence,  he  begged 
she  would  acquaint  her  father,  that  whatever  grace  might 
be  in  her  motion,  yet — her  slippers  were  too  noisy. 


THE  ASS  IN  THE  LION'S  SKIN. 


171 


^inc  clotljcs  may  bisgutse,  but  stlly  vootbs  mill  bisclose 

a  fool. 

THE  ASS  IN  THE  LION'S  SKIN. 

An  Ass  once  found  a  Lion's  skin  which  the  hunters 
had  left  out  in  the  sun  to  dry.  He  put  it  on  and  went 
towards  his  native  village.  All  fled  at  his  approach, 
both  men  and  animals,  and  he  was  a  proud  Ass  that  day. 


"  I  •  knew  •  you  •  by  your  •  voice  I" 

In  his  delight  he  lifted  up  his  voice  and  brayed,  but  then 
every  one  knew  him,  and  his  owner  came  up  and  gave 
him  a  sound  cudgeling  for  the  fright  he  had  caused.  And 
shortly  afterwards  a  Fox  came  up  to  him  and  said:  Ah, 
I  knew  you  by  your  voice. 


1/2  ^SOPS  FABLES. 

(In  immoocratc  pursuit  of  pleasure  is  generally  6estruc= 
tiro  of  its  object. 

THE  BOY  A\D  THE  BUTTERFLY. 

A  Boy,  greatly  smitten  with  the  colors  of  a  Butterfly, 
pursued  it  from  flower  to  flower  with  irdcfatigable  pains. 
First  he  aimed  to  surprise  it  among  the  leaves  of  a  rose; 
then  to  cover  it  with  his  hat,  as  it  was  feeding  on  a 
daisy;  now  hoped  to  secure  it,  as  it  rested  on  a  sprig  of 
myrtle;  and  now  grew  sure  of  his  prize,  perceiving  it 
loiter  on  a  bed  of  violets.  But  the  fickle  Fly,  continually 
changing  one  blossom  for  another,  still  eluded  his 
attempts.  At  length,  observing  it  half  buried  in  the  cup 
of  a  tulip,  he  rushed  forward,  and  snatching  it  with  vio- 
lence, crushed  it  all  to  pieces.  The  dying  insect,  seeing 
the  poor  boy  somewhat  chagrined  at  his  disappointment, 
addressed  him  with  all  the  calmness  of  a  stoic,  in  the  fol- 
lowing manner. — Behold!  now  the  end  of  thy  unprofitable 
solicitude!  and  learn,  for  the  benefit  of  thy  future  life, 
that  all  pleasure  is  but  a  painted  Butterfly;  which,  al- 
though it  may  serve  to  amuse  thee  in  the  pursuit,  if  em- 
braced with  too  much  ardor,  will  perish  in  thy  grasp. 


you  tDill  only  injure  yourself  if  you  take  notice  of  bcs-- 
picable  enemies. 

THE  BALD  MAN  AND  THE  FLY. 

There  was  once  a  Bald  Man  who  sat  down  after  work 
on  a  hot  summer's  day.  A  Fly  came  up  and  kept  buz- 
zing about  his  bald  pate,  and  stinging  him  from  time  to 


THE  BxVLD  MAN  AND  THE  FLY. 


173 


174  iT:sors  fabt.es. 

time.  The  Man  aimed  a  blow  at  liis  little  enemy,  but — 
whack — his  palm  came  on  his  head  instead;  again  the 
Fly  tormented  him,  but  this  time  the  Man  was  wiser  and 
said:  Since  T  cannot  hit  this  lively  j^est,  T  will  not  beat 
my  own  head  in  the  attempt. 


trije  rain  beliepe  t!}cir  imaginary  perfections  engross  tlje 
attention  of  all  niankinb. 

ECHO  AND  THE  OWL. 

The  vain  hear  the  flatteries  of  their  own  imagination, 
and  fancy  them  to  be  the  voice  of  fame. 

A  solemn  Owl,  puffed  up  with  vanity,  sat  repeating  her 
screams  at  midnight,  from  the  hollow  of  a  blasted  oak. 
And  whence,  cried  she,  proceeds  this  awful  silence,  unless 
it  be  to  favor  my  superior  melody?  Surely  the  groves 
are  hushed  in  expectation  of  my  voice,  and  when  I  sing, 
all  nature  listens.  An  Echo  resounding  from  an  adjacent 
rock,  replied  immediately,  All  nature  listens.  The  night- 
ingale, resumed  she,  has  usurped  the  sovereignty  by 
night:  her  note  indeed  is  musical,  but  mine  is  sweeter  far. 
The  voice,  confirming  her  opinion,  replied  again.  Is 
SAveeter  far.  Why  then  am  I  dif^dent,  continued  she,  why 
do  I  fear  to  join  the  tuneful  choir?  The  Echo,  still  flatter- 
ing her  vanity,  repeated,  Join  the  tuneful  choir.  Roused 
by  this  empty  phantom  of  encouragement,  she  on  the 
morrow  mingled  her  hootings  with  the  harmony  of  the 
groves.  But  the  tuneful  songsters,  disgusted  with  her 
noise,  and  affronted  by  her  impudence,  unanimously 
drove  her  from  their  society,  and  still  continue  to  pursue 
her  wherever  she  appears. 


THE  BUTTERFLY,  THE  SNAIL,  AND  THE  BEE.    175 


^ops  may  boast  of  extensile  traDcb,  but  it  is  only  a  feu) 

Mscermng  persons  tl)at  make  tl?e  proper 

use  of  tl?em. 

THE  BUTTERFLY,  THE  SNAIL  AND  THE  BEE. 

A  Butterfly,  proudly  perched  on  the  gaudy  leaves  of  a 
French  marigold,  was  boasting  the  vast  extent  and  variety 
of  his  travels.  I  have  ranged,  said  he,  over  the  graceful 
and  majestic  fences  of  Hagley,t  and  have  feasted  my  eyes 
with  elegance  and  variety  at  the  Leasowes.*  I  have 
wandered  through  regions  of  Eglantine  and  Honey- 
suckle, I  have  revelled  in  kisses  on  beds  of  Violets  and 
Cowslips,  and  have  enjoyed  the  delicious  fragrance  of 
Roses  and  Carnations.  In  short,  my  fancy  unbounded, 
and  my  flights  unrestrained,  I  have  visited  with  perfect 
freedom  all  the  flowers  of  the  field  or  garden,  and  must 
be  allowed  to  know  the  world,  in  a  superlative  degree. 

A  Snail,  who  hung  attentive  to  his  wonders  on  a  cab- 
bage-leaf, was  struck  with  admiration,  and  concluded 
him.  from  all  this  experience,  to  be  the  wisest  of  animal 
creatures. 

It  happened  that  a  Bee  pursued  her  occupation  on  a 
neighboring  bed  of  marjoram,  and  having  heard  our 
ostentatious  vagrant,  reprimanded  him  in  this  manner. 
Vain,  empty  flutterer,  said  she,  whom  instruction  cannot 
improve,  nor  experience  itself  enlighten !  Thou  hast  ram- 
bled over  the  world;  wherein  does  thy  knowledge  of  it 
consist?  Thou  hast  seen  variety  of  objects,  what  conclu- 
sions hast  thou  drawn  from  them?  Thou  hast  tasted  of 
every  amusement,  hast  thou  extracted  anything  for  use? 

tLord  Lyttehon's.  *Mr.   Shenstone's. 


1/6  ^SOPS  FABLES. 

I,  too,  am  a  traveler;  go  and  look  into  my  hive,  and  let 
my  treasures  shadow  out  to  thee,  that  the  intent  of  trav- 
eling is,  to  collect  materials  either  for  the  use  and  emolu- 
ment of  private  life,  or  for  the  advantage  of  the  com- 
munity. 


3t  is  easy  to  propose  impossible  rcmebies. 
BELLING  THE  CAT. 

Long  ago,  the  mice  held  a  general  council  to  consider 
what  measures  they  could  take  to  outwit  their  common 
enemy,  the  Cat.  Some  said  this,  and  some  said  that, 
but  at  last  a  young  mouse  got  up  and  said  he  had  a  pro- 
posal to  make,  which  he  thought  would  meet  the  case. 
You  will  all  agree,  said  he,  that  our  chief  danger  consists 
in  the  sly  and  treacherous  manner  in  which  the  enemy 
approaches  us.  Now^,  if  we  could  receive  some  signal  of 
her  approach,  we  could  easily  escape  from  her.  I  ven- 
ture, therefore,  to  propose  that  a  small  bell  be  procured, 
and  attached  by  a  ribbon  round  the  neck  of  the  Cat.  By 
this  means  we  should  always  know  when  she  w^as  about 
and  could  easily  retire  while  she  was  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. 

This  i^roposal  met  with  general  applause,  until  an  old 
mouse  got  up  and  said:  That  is  all  very  well,  but  who 
is  to  bell  the  Cat?  The  mice  looked  at  one  another  and 
nobody  spoke.  Then  the  old  mouse  said:  While  you 
are  belling  the  cat  you  will  be  in  reach  of  her  paws. 


BELLING  THE  CAT. 


177 


178  ^SOPS  FABLES 

d?e  fop  wl}0  prtbes  fjtmscif  upon  a  lar^c  acquaintance 
is  sclbom  capahk  of  real  frienbsl^ip 

THE  MAGPIE  AND  THE  RAVEN. 

There  was  a  certain  ^Magpie,  more  busy  and  more  lo- 
quacious than  any  of  his  tribe.  His  tongue  was  in  per- 
petual motion,  and  himself  continually  upon  the  wing, 
fluttering  from  place  to  place,  and  very  seldom  appear- 
ing twice  together  in  the  same  company. 

Sometimes  you  saw  him  with  a  flock  of  pigeons,  plun- 
dering a  field  of  new  sown  corn;  anon,  perched  upon  a 
cherry  tree  with  a  parcel  of  tom-tits;  the  next  moment, 
you  would  be  surprised  to  find  the  same  individual  bird 
engaged  with  a  flight  of  crows,  and  feasting  upon  a  car- 
cass. 

He  took  it  one  day  into  his  head  to  visit  an  old  Raven, 
who  lived  retired  among  the  branches  of  a  venerable  oak, 
and  there,  at  the  foot  of  a  lonely  mountain,  had  passed 
near  half  a  century. 

I  admire,  says  the  prating  bird,  your  most  roman- 
tic situation,  and  the  wildness  of  these  rocks  and  preci- 
pices around  you;  I  am  absolutely  transported  with  the 
murmur  of  that  water-fall ;  methinks  it  diffuses  a  tran- 
quillity, surpassing  all  the  joys  of  public  life.  What  an 
agreeable  sequestration  from  worldly  bustle  and  imperti- 
nence! What  an  opportunity  of  contemplating  the  divine 
beauties  of  nature!  I  shall  most  certainly,  my  dear,  quit 
the  gaieties  of  town,  and  for  the  sake  of  these  rural 
scenes,  and  my  good  friend's  conversation,  pass  the  re- 
mainder of  my  days  in  the  solitude  he  has  chosen. 

Well,  Sir,  replies  the  Raven,  I  shall  be  at  all  times  glad 
to  receive  you  in  my  old  fashioned  way,  but  you  and  I 


PROMETHEUS.  I79 

should  certainly  prove  most  unsuitable  companions. 
Your  whole  ambition  is  to  shine  in  company,  and  to  rec- 
ommend yourself  to  the  world  by  universal  complaisance; 
whereas  my  greatest  happiness  consists  in  ease  and  pri- 
vacy, and  the  select  conversation  of  a  few  whom  I  es- 
teem. I  prefer  a  good  heart  to  the  most  voluble  tongue; 
and  though  questionless  obliged  to  you  for  the  polite- 
ness of  your  professions,  yet  I  see  your  benevolence  di- 
vided among  so  numerous  an  acquaintance,  that  a  very 
slender  share  of  it  can  remain  for  those  you  are  pleased 
to  honor  with  the  name  of  friends. 


d?c  blessing  of  Ijopc  is  better  abapteb  to  tl?e  state  of 
mortals  il}an  tf?e  gift  of  prescience. 

PROMETHEUS. 

Prometheus  formed  man  of  the  finest  clay,  and  ani- 
mated his  work  with  fire  stolen  from  heaven.  He  en- 
dowed him  with  all  the  faculties  that  are  to  be  found 
amongst  the  animal  creation ;  he  gave  him  the  courage  of 
the  lion,  the  subtlety  of  the  fox,  the  providence  of  the  ant, 
and  the  industry  of  the  bee;  and  he  enabled  him  by  the 
superiority  of  his  understanding,  to  subdue  them  all,  and 
to  make  them  subservient  to  his  use  and  pleasure.  He 
discovered  to  him  the  metals  hidden  in  the  bowels  of  the 
earth,  and  showed  him  their  several  uses.  He  instructed 
him  in  everything  that  might  tend  to  cultivate  and  civ- 
ilize human  life;  he  taught  him  to  till  the  ground,  and 
to  improve  the  fertility  of  nature;  to  build  houses,  to  cover 
himself  with  garments,  and  to  defend  himself  against  the 
12 


!.^0  i?LSOPS   FABLES. 

inclemencies  of  the  air  and  the  seasons;  to  compound 
medicines  of  salutary  herbs,  to  heal  wounds,  and  to  cure 
diseases;  to  construct  ships,  to  cross  the  seas,  and  to 
communicate  to  every  country  the  riches  of  all.  In  a 
word,  he  imbued  him  with  sense  and  memory,  with 
sagacity  and  invention,  with  art  and  science,  and  to 
crown  all,  he  gave  him  an  insight  into  futurity.  But,  alas! 
this  latter  gift,  instead  of  improving,  wholly  destroyed 
the  proper  efTect  of  all  the  former.  Furnished  with  all  the 
means  and  instruments  of  happiness,  man  nevertheless 
was  miserable;  through  the  knowledge  and  dread  of 
future  evil,  he  was  incapable  of  enjoying  present  good. 
Prometheus  saw,  and  immediately  resolved  to  remedy 
this  inconvenience;  he  effectually  restored  man  to  a 
capacity  of  happiness,  by  depriving  him  of  prescience, 
and  giving  him  hope  in  its  stead. 


People  often   grubge   otijers  mt^at  they   cannot    enjoy 
tI]emselDe5. 

THE  DOG  IX  THE  AIAXGER. 

A  Dog  looking  out  for  its  afternoon  nap  jumped  into 
the  Manger  of  an  Ox  and  lay  there  cosily  upon  the 
straw.  But  soon  the  Ox,  returning  from  its  afternoon 
work,  came  up  to  the  Manger  and  wanted  to  eat  some 
of  the  straw.  The  Dog  in  a  rage,  being  awakened  from 
its  slumber,  stood  up  and  barked  at  the  Ox,  and  when- 
ever it  came  near  attempted  to  bite  it.  At  last  the  Ox 
had  to  give  up  the  hope  of  getting  at  the  straw,  and  went 
away  muttering:  This  surly  beast  will  not  yield  to  an- 
other that  which  is  of  no  use  to  himself. 


THE  DOG  IN  THE  MANGER. 


i8i 


I82 


/ESOPS  FABLES. 


yiclb  to  all  anb  you  mill  soon  f^arc  noticing  to  ijielb. 
THE  MAN  AND  HIS  TWO  WIVES 

In  the  old  days,  wlicn  men  were  allowed  to  have  many 
wives,  a  middle-aged  Man  had  one  wife  that  was  old  and 
one  that  was  young;  each  loved  him  very  much,  and  de- 
sired to  see  him  like  her- 
self. Now  the  Man's  hair 
was  turning  gray,  whicli 
the  young  Wife  did  not 
like,  as  it  made  him  look 
too  old  for  her  husband. 
So  every  night  she  used  to 
comb  his  hair  and  pick  out 
the  white  ones.  But  the 
elder  Wife  saw  her  hus- 
band growing  gray  with 
great  pleasure,  for  she  did  not  like  to  be  mistaken  for 
his  mother.  So  every  morning  she  used  to  arrange  his 
hair  and  pick  out  as  many  of  the  black  ones  as  she  could. 
The  consequence  was  the  Man  soon  found  himself  en- 
tirely bald. 


Cf?c  rubcttess  of  consibcrtng  religious  opinions  as  tt?c 
proper  object  of  ribicule. 

THE  BEAR. 

A  Bear  who  was  bred  in  the  savage  deserts  of  Siberia, 
had  an  inclination  to  see  the  world.  He  traveled  from 
forest  to  forest,  and  from  one  kingdom  to  another,  mak- 


THE  STORK  AND  THE  CROW.  183 

ing  many  profound  observations  in  his  way.  Among 
the  rest  of  his  excursions,  he  came  by  accident  into  a  far- 
mer's yard,  where  he  saw  a  number  of  poultry  standing 
to  drink  by  the  side  of  a  pool.  Observing  that  at  every 
sip  they  turned  up  their  heads  toward  the  sky,  he  could 
not  forbear  inquiring  the  reason  of  so  peculiar  a  cere- 
mony. They  told  him  it  was  by  way  of  returning  thanks 
to  heaven  for  the  benefits  they  received,  and  was  indeed 
an  ancient  and  religious  custom,  which  they  could  not, 
with  a  safe  conscience,  or  without  impiety,  omit.  Here 
the  Bear  burst  into  a  fit  of  laughter,  at  once  mimicing 
their  gestures,  and  ridiculing  their  superstition,  in  the 
most  contemptuous  manner.  On  this,  the  Cock,  with 
a  spirit  suitable  to  the  boldness  of  his  character,  addressed 
him  in  the  following  words:  As  you  are  a  stranger.  Sir, 
you  perhaps  may  be  excused  the  indecency  of  this  be- 
havior; yet  give  me  leave  to  tell  you,  that  none  but  a  Bear 
would  ridicule  any  religious  ceremony  whatsoever,  in  the 
presence  of  those  who  believe  them  of  importance. 


Cf?c  weakness  of  placing  tl?c  essence  of  religion  in  tF?e 
mere  obserpance  of  rites  anb  ceremonies. 

THE  STORK  AND  THE  CROW. 

A  Stork  and  a  Crow  had  once  a  strong  contention, 
which  of  them  stood  highest  in  the  favor  of  Jupiter.  The 
Crow  alleged  his  skill  in  omens,  his  infallibilty  in  pro- 
phecies, and  his  great  use  to  the  priests  of  that  deity  in  all 
their  sacrifices  and  religious  ceremonies.  The  Stork 
urged  only  his  blameless  life,  the  care  he  took  to  preserve 


1^4  /liSOP'S  FAPLES. 

his  offspring',  and  the  assistance  lie  lent  his  parents  under 
the  infirmities  of  old  age.  It  happened,  as  it  generally 
does  in  religious  disputes,  that  neither  of  them  could  con- 
fute the  other;  so  they  both  agreed  to  refer  the  decision  to 
Jupiter  himself.  On  their  joint  application  the  god  de- 
termined thus  between  them.  Let  none  of  my  creatures 
despair  of  my  regard;  I  know  their  weakness,  I  pity  their 
errors,  and  whatever  is  well  meant,  T  accq:)t  as  it  was  in- 
tended. Yet  sacrifices  or  ceremonies  are  in  themselves 
of  no  importance,  and  every  attempt  to  penetrate  the 
counsels  of  the  gods,  is  altogether  as  vain  as  it  is  pre- 
sumptuous; but  he  who  pays  to  Jupiter  a  just  honor  and 
reverence,  who  leads  the  most  temperate  life,  and  who 
does  the  most  good  in  proportion  to  his  abilities,  as  he 
best  answ^ers  the  end  of  his  creation,  will  assuredly  stand 
highest  in  the  favor  of  his  creator. 


Ptccs  are  tF^eir  Ottm  punisf^ment. 

AVARICIOUS  AND  ENVIOUS. 

Two  neighbors  came  before  Jupiter  and  prayed  him  to 
grant  their  hearts'  desire.  Now  the  one  was  full  of  ava- 
rice, and  the  other  eaten  up  with  envy.  So  to  punish 
them  both,  Jupiter  granted  that  each  might  have  what- 
ever he  wished  for  himself,  but  only  on  condition  that 
his  neighbor  had  twice  as  much.  The  Avaricious  man 
prayed  to  have  a  room  full  of  gold.  No  sooner  said  than 
done;  but  all  his  joy  was  turned  to  grief  w^hen  he  found 
that  his  neighbor  had  two  rooms  full  of  the  precious 
metal.     Then  came  the  turn  of  the  Envious  man,  who 


AVARICIOUS  AND  ENVIOUS. 


i8= 


could  not  bear  to  think  that  his  neighbor  had  any  joy  at 
all.  So  he  prayed  that  he  might  have  one  of  his  own 
eyes  put  out,  by  which  means  his  companion  would 
become  totally  blind. 


1 86  iESOPS  FABLES. 

^I)c  oircatcst  merit  is  often  conccaleb  unber  tlje  most 
unpromising  appearances. 

THE  DIAMOND  AND  THE  LOADSTONE. 

A  Diamond  of  great  beauty  and  luster,  observing,  not 
only  many  other  gems  of  a  lower  class  ranged  together 
with  him  in  the  same  cabinet,  but  a  Loadstone  likewise 
placed  not  far  from  liim,  began  to  question  the  latter, 
how  he  came  there,  and  what  pretensions  he  had  to  be 
ranked  among  the  precious  stones;  he,  who  appeared 
to  be  no  better  tlian  a  mere  Hint;  a  sorry,  coarse,  rusty- 
looking  pebble,  without  any  the  least  shining  quality  to 
advance  him  to  such  an  honor,  and  concluded  with  desir- 
ing him  to  keep  his  distance,  and  pay  a  proper  respect 
to  his  superiors.  I  find,  said  the  Loadstone,  that  you 
judge  by  external  appearances,  and  it  is  your  interest,  that 
others  should  form  their  judgment  by  the  same  rule.  I 
must  own  I  have  nothing  to  boast  of  in  that  respect,  but 
I  may  venture  to  say,  that  I  make  amends  for  my  out- 
ward defects,  by  my  inward  qualities.  The  great  im- 
provement of  navigation  in  these  latter  ages  is  entirely 
owing  to  me.  It  is  owing  to  me,  that  the  distant  parts 
of  the  world  are  known  and  accessible  to  each  other;  that 
the  remotest  peoples  are  connected  together,  and  all  in 
a  manner  united  into  one  common  society;  that  by  a 
mutual  intercourse  they  relieve  one  another's  wants,  and 
all  enjoy  the  several  blessings  peculiar  to  each.  Great 
nations  are  indebted  to  me  for  their  wealth,  splendor^  and 
power;  and  the  arts  and  sciences  are  in  a  great  measure 
obliged  to  me  for  their  late  improvements,  and  their  con- 
tinual increase.  I  am  willing  to  allow  you  your  due  praise 
in  its  full  extent;  you  are  a  very  pretty  bauble;  I  am 
mightily  delighted  to  see  you  glitter  and  sparkle;   I  look 


THE  CROW  AND  THE  PITCHER. 


187 


upon  you  with  pleasure  and  surprise,  but  I  must  be  con- 
vinced that  you  are  of  some  sort  of  use,  before  I  acknowl- 
edge that  you  have  any  real  merit,  or  treat  you  with  that 
respect  which  you  seem  to  demand. 


kittle  by  little  bocs  tl^e  trick. 

THE  CROW  AND  THE  PITCHER. 

A  Crow,  half-dead  with  thirst,  came  upon  a  Pitcher 
which  had  once  been  full  of  water,  but  when  the  Crow 
put  its  beak  into  the  mouth  of  the  Pitcher  he  found  that 
only  very  little  water  was  left  in  it,  and  that  he  could  not 
reach  far  enough  down  to  get  at  it.  He  tried,  and  he 
tried,  but  at  last  had  to  give  up  in  despair.  Then  a 
thought  came  to  him,  and  he  took 
a  pebble  and  dropped  it  into  the 
Pitcher.  Then  he  took  anoth- 
er  pebble    and   dropped   it 

into  the  Pitcher.  Then  he 

took    another     pebble 

and  dropped  that  i 

to     the      Pitcher. 

Then   he    took 

another  pebble 

and       dropped'"^  -  __-_      ^   . 

that    into    the^^/^C:*''^^ 

Pitcher.    Then ^      Qy;;;7:::g»>j:^r-  _^^   _ 

he  took  anoth-     ■--  «__«^_— — — — 


er  pebble  and  dropped  that  into  the  Pitcher.  Then  he 
took  another  pebble  and  dropped  that  into  the  Pitcher. 
At  last,  at  last,  he  saw  the  water  mount  up  near  him ;  and 
after  casting  in  a  few  more  pebbles  he  was  able  to  quench 
his  thirst  and  save  his  life. 


i88 


i^SOPS    FABLLS. 


^l)c  farors  of  tl?c  arcat  arc  too  often  obstructcb  by  tfje 
inutbious  offices  of  tl^eir  mean  bcpcnbents. 

THE  ECLIPSE. 

One  day  when  the  Moon  was  under  an  Eclipse,  she 
complained  thus  to  the  Sun  of  the  discontinuance  of  his 
favors.  My  dearest  friend,  said  she,  why  do  you  not 
shine  upon  me  as  you  used  to  do?  Do  I  not  shine  upon 
thee?  said  the  Sun;  I  am  very  sure  that  I  intend  it.  O 
no,  replies  the  Moon,  but  I  now  perceive  the  reason.  I 
see  that  dirty  planet  the  earth,  is  got  between  us. 

The  good  influences  of  the  great  would  perhaps  be 
more  diffusive,  were  it  not  for  their  mischievous  de- 
pendents, who  are  so  frequently  suffered  to  interpose. 


©rccb  often  operreacl^cs  itself. 
THE  GOOSE  WITH  THE  GOLDEN  EGGS. 

One  day  a  countryman,  go- 
ing   to    the    nest    of  his 
Goose,  found  there  an 
tgg    all    yellow  and 
glittering.     When 
he   took    it   up   it 
was    as   heavy    as 
lead  and   he   was 
going  to  throw  it 
away,  because  he 
thought     a     trick 


had   been    played  '.n' 


THE  GOOSE  WITH  THE  GOLDEN  EGG.  189 


[•Oreed'tO'Need'doth'Surely'leadi 


[gte-.OooseigiiCT:  cHeiOoLPea  •  eaos: 


190 


mS0P9,  FABLES. 


upon  liini.  But  he  look  it  home  on  second 
thought's,  and  soon  found  to  liis  dehij^lu  that  it  was  an 
e^^  of  pure  gold.  Every  morning  the  same  thing  oc- 
curred, and  he  soon  l)ccame  ricli  hy  selHng  liis  eggs.     As 


he  grew  rich  he  grew  greedy,  and  thinking  to  get  at  once 
all  the  gold  the  Goose  could  give,  he  killed  it  and  opened 
it  only  to  find — nothing. 


THE  TOAD   AND   THE   EPHEMERON.  19I 

G.  lazy  reliance  on  tl?e  antiquity  of  a  family  is,  by  far, 
less  F)onorabIe  tijan  an  t}onest  inbustry. 

THE  TOAD  AXD  THE  EPHEMEROX. 

As  some  workmen  were  digging  marble  in  a  mountain 
of  Scythia,  they  discerned  a  toad  of  an  enormous  size  in 
the  midst  of  a  sohd  roclc  They  were  very  much  sur- 
prised at  so  uncommon  an  appearance,  and  the  more 
they  considered  the  circumstances  of  it,  the  more  their 
wonder  increased.  It  was  hard  to  conceive  by  what 
means  this  creature  had  preserved  hfe  and  nourishment 
in  so  narrow  a  prison ;  and  still  more  difficult  to  account 
for  his  birth  and  existence  in  a  place  so  totally  inac- 
cessible to  all  of  his  species.  They  could  conclude  no 
other,  than  that  he  was  formed  together  with  the  rock 
in  which  he  had  been  bred,  and  was  coeval  with  the 
mountain  itself.  While  they  were  pursuing  these  specu- 
lations the  Toad  sat  swelling  and  bloating,  till  he  was 
ready  to  burst  with  pride  and  self-importance;  to  which 
at  last  he  thus  gave  vent: — Yes,  says  he,  you  behold  in  me 
a  specimen  of  the  Antediluvian  race  of  animals.  I  was 
begotten  before  the  flood;  and  who  is  there  among  the 
present  upstart  race  of  mortals,  that  shall  dare  to  con- 
tend with  me  in  nobility  of  birth  or  dignity  of  character? 
An  Ephemeron,  sprung  that  morning  from  the  river 
Hypanis,  as  he  was  flying  about  from  place  to  place, 
chanced  to  be  present,  and  observed  all  that  passed  with 
great  attention  and  curiosity.  \"ain  boaster,  says  he, 
what  foundation  hast  thou  for  pride,  either  in  thy  de- 
scent, merely  because  it  is  ancient;  or  thy  life,  because 
it  hath  been  long?  What  good  qualities  hast  thou  re- 
ceived from  thy  ancestors?     Insignificant  even  to  thy- 


192  iESOPS  FABLES. 

self,  as  well  as  useless  to  others,  thou  art  almost  as  in- 
sensible as  the  block  in  which  thou  wast  bred.  Even  I, 
that  had  my  birth  only  from  the  scum  of  the  neighboring 
river,  at  the  rising  of  this  day's  sun,  and  who  shall  die  at 
its  setting,  have  more  reason  to  applaud  my  condition, 
than  thou  hast  to  be  proud  of  thine.  I  have  enjoyed  the 
warmth  of  the  sun,  the  light  of  the  day,  and  the  purity 
of  the  air;  I  have  flown  from  stream  to  stream,  from  tree 
to  tree,  and  from  the  plain  to  the  mountain;  I  have  pro- 
vided for  posterity,  and  shall  leave  behind  me  a  numerous 
offspring  to  people  the  next  age  of  to-morrow^;  in  short, 
I  have  fulfilled  all  the  ends  of  my  being,  and  I  have  been 
happy.  My  whole  life,  it  is  true,  is  but  of  twelve  hours; 
but  even  one  hour  of  it  is  to  be  preferred  to  a  thousand 
vears  of  mere  existence;  or  that  have  been  spent,  like 
thine,  in  sloth,  ignorance,  and  stupidity. 


Core  can  tame  tfje  milbcst. 
THE  LION  IN  LOVE. 

A  Lion  once  fell  in  love  with  a  beautiful  maiden  and 
proposed  marriage  to  her  parents.  The  old  people  did 
not  know  what  to  say.  They  did  not  like  to  give  their 
daughter  to  the  Lion,  yet  they  did  not  wish  to  enrage 
the  King  of  Beasts.  At  last  the  father  said:  We  feel 
highly  honored  by  your  Majesty's  proposal,  but  you  see 
our  daughter  is  a  tender  young  thing,  and  we  fear  that 
in  the  vehemence  of  your  afifection  you  might  possibly 
do  her  some  injury.  Might  I  venture  to  suggest  that 
your  I^Iajesty  should  have  your  claws  removed,  and  your 


THE   LION  IN  LOVE. 


193 


teeth  extracted,  then  we  would  oladly  consider  your  pro- 
posal again.  The  Lion  was  so  much  in  love  that  he  had 
his  claws  trimmed  and  his  big  teeth  taken  out.       But 


4   \.      ^r*i 


when  he  came  again  to  the  parents  of  the  young  girl 
they  simply  laughed  in  his  face,  and  bade  him  do  his 
worst. 


104 


^SOP'S  FABLES. 


.  H    /^//^//^V/ 


3t  is  easy  to  bcspisc  n?t?at  you  cannot  get. 
THE  FOX  AND  THE  GRAPES. 

One  hot  summer's  day  a  Fox  was  strolling  through  an 
orchard  till  he  came  to  a  bunch  of  Grapes  just  ripening 
on  a  vine  which  had  been  trained  over  a  lofty  branch. 
Just  the  thing  to  quench  my  thirst,  quoth  he.  Drawing 
back  a  few  paces,  he  took  a  run  and  a  jump,  and  just 
missed  the  bunch.  Turning  round  again  wdth  a  One, 
Two,  Three,  he  jumped  up,  but  with  no  greater  success. 
Again  and  again  he  tried  after  the  tempting  morsel,  but 
at  last  he  had  to  give  it  up,  and  walked  away  with  his 
nose  in  the  air,  saying:     I  am  sure  they  are  sour. 


yy/ 


THE  BEGGAR  AND  HIS  DOG.  I95 

CI?cre  are  certain  persons  wl)0  require  to  be  treateb  ratEjer 

tcitl}  spirit  anb  resolution  tl^an  voiti}  tenber= 

ness  anb  belicacy. 

THE  BOY  AND  THE  XETTLE. 

A  Little  Boy,  playing  in  the  fields,  chanced  to  be  stung 
by  a  Nettle,  and  came  crying  to  his  father;  he  told  him  he 
had  been  hurt  by  that  nasty  weed  several  times  before, 
that  he  was  always  afraid  of  it,  and  that  now  he  did  but 
just  touch  it,  as  lightly  as  possible,  when  he  was  so  se- 
verely stung.  Child,  says  the  father,  your  touching  it  so 
gently  and  timorously  is  the  very  reason  of  its  hurting 
you.  A  Nettle  may  be  handled  safely,  if  you  do  it  with 
courage  and  resolution ;  if  you  seize  it  boldly,  and  grip  it 
fast,  depend  upon  it,  it  will  never  sting  you ;  and  you  will 
meet  with  many  sorts  of  persons,  as  well  as  things  in  the 
world,  which  ought  to  be  treated  in  the  very  same  man- 
ner. 


C{?e  misery  of  bepenbtn^  upon  patrons  toljose  cljaritij 
\}as  too  miicl}  to  bo  at  Ijome. 

THE  BEGGAR  AND  HIS  DOG. 

A  Beggar  and  his  Dog  sat  at  the  gate  of  a  noble 
Courtier,  and  w^ere  preparing  to  make  a  meal  on  a  bowl 
of  fragments  from  the  Kitchenmaid.  A  poor  dependent 
of  his  Lordship's,  who  had  been  sharing  the  singular 
favor  of  a  dinner  at  the  steward's  table,  was  struck  with 
their  appearance,  and  stopped  a  little  to  observe  them. 

13 


ic/)  yESOPS  FABLES. 

The  Hcg-gar,  hungry  and  voracious  as  any  Courtier  in 
Christendom,  seized  with  greediness  the  choicest  morsels, 
and  swallowed  them  himself;  the  residue  was  divided  into 
portions  for  his  children.  A  scrag  was  thrust  into  one 
pocket  for  honest  Jack,  a  crust  into  another  for  bashful 
Tom,  and  a  luncheon  of  cheese  wrapt  up  with  care  for  the 
little  favorite  of  his  hopeful  family.  In  short,  if  anything 
was  thrown  to  the  Dog,  it  was  a  bone  so  closely  picked, 
that  it  scarce  afforded  a  pittance  to  keep  life  and  soul  to- 
gether. How  exactly  alike,  said  the  dependent,  is  this 
poor  Dog's  case  and  mine!  He  is  watching  for  a  dinner 
from  a  master  who  cannot  spare  it;  I  for  a  place  from  a 
needy  Lord,  whose  wants  perhaps  are  greater  than  my 
own ;  and  whose  relations,  more  clamorous  than  any  of 
this  Beggar's  brats.  Shrewdly  was  it  said  by  an  in- 
genious writer,  a  Courtier's  Dependent  is  a  Beggar's  Dog. 


IDit  l}as  always  an  answur  rcaby. 
THE  ASS'S  BRAINS. 

The  Lion  and  the  Fox  went  hunting  together.  The 
Lion,  on  the  advice  of  the  Fox,  sent  a  message  to  the 
Ass,  proposing  to  make  an  alliance  between  their  two 
families.  The  Ass  came  to  the  place  of  meeting,  over- 
joyed at  the  prospect  of  a  royal  alliance.  But  when  he 
came  there  the  Lion  simply  pounced  on  the  Ass,  and 
said  to  the  Fox:  Here  is  our  dinner  for  to-day.  Watch 
you  here  while  I  go  and  have  a  nap.  Woe  betide  you 
if  you  touch  my  prey.  The  Lion  went  away  and  the 
Fox  waited;   but  finding  that  his  master  did  not  return, 


THE  ASS'S  BRAINS. 


197 


198  iCSOrS  FABLES. 

ventured  to  take  out  the  brains  of  the  Ass  and  ate  tliem 
up.  When  the  Lion  came  back  he  soon  noticed  the  ab- 
sence of  the  brains,  and  asked  the  Fox  in  a  terrible 
voice:     What  have  you  done  with  the  brains? 

Brains,  your  Majesty!   it  had  none,  or  it  would  never 
have  fallen  into  your  trap. 


CI)e  vl»^^^ui^*^^  of  life  upoulb  be  a  balance  for  tlje  ^axns, 
bib  u?e  not  increase  tl^e  latter  by  our  perpcrseness. 

THE  DISCOXTEXTED  BEE. 

A  Bee  complained  to  Jupiter,  of  the  numerous  evils  to 
which  her  condition  exposed  her.  Her  body,  she  said, 
was  weak  and  feeble,  yet  was  she  condemned  to  get  her 
living  by  perpetual  toil ;  she  was  benumbed  by  the  cold  of 
■winter,  and  relaxed  by  the  heat  of  summer.  Her  haunts 
were  infected  with  poisonous  weeds,  and  her  flights  ob- 
structed by  storms  and  tempests.  In  short,  what  with 
dangers  from  without,  and  diseases  from  within,  her  life 
was  rendered  one  continual  scene  of  anxiety  and  wretch- 
edness. Behold  now,  said  Jupiter,  the  frowardness  and 
folly  of  this  unthankful  race!  The  flowers  of  the  field  I 
have  spread  before  them  as  a  feast,  and  have  endeavored 
to  regale  them  with  an  endless  variety.  They  now  revel 
on  odoriferous  beds  of  thyme  and  lavender,  and  now  on 
the  still  more  fragrant  banks  of  violets  and  roses.  Tlie 
business  they  complain  of,  is  the  extraction  of  honey; 
and,  to  alleviate  their  toil,  I  have  allowed  them  wings, 
which  readily  transport  them  from  one  delicious  banquet 
to  another.     Storms,  tempests,  and  noxious  weeds,  I  have 


THE  TUBEROSE  AND  THE  SUN-FLOWER.         I99 

given  them  sagacity  to  shun;  and  if  ever  they  are  misled, 
'tis  through  the  perverseness  of  their  indinations.  But 
thus  it  is  with  Bees,  and  thus  with  Alen;  they  miscon- 
strue the  benevolence  of  my  designs,  and  then  complain 
that  my  decrees  are  rigid;  they  ungratefully  overlook  all 
the  advantages,  and  magnify  all  the  inconveniences  of 
their  station.  But  let  my  creatures  pursue  their  happi- 
ness, through  the  paths  marked  out  by  nature;  and  they 
will  then  feel  no  pains,  which  they  have  not  pleasures  to 
compensate. 


CI?e  folly  of  resting  in  seconb  causes  tpitljout  reference 
to  tF?e  first. 

THE  TUBEROSE  AND  THE  SUN-FLOWER. 

A  Tuberose  in  a  bow-window  on  the  north  side  of  a 
stately  villa,  addressed  a  Sun-flower  which  grew  on  a 
slope,  that  was  contiguous  to  the  house.  Pray,  says  he, 
neighbor  Turnsole,  to  what  purpose  do  you  pay  all  this 
devotion  to  that  fictitious  deity  of  yours,  the  Sun?  Why 
are  you  continually  distorting  your  body,  and  casting  up 
your  eyes  to  that  glaring  luminary?  What  superstition 
induces  you  to  think  that  we  flowers  exist  only  through 
his  influence?  Both  you  and  I  are  surely  indebted  to 
the  hot-bed,  and  to  the  diligence  of  the  gardener,  for  our 
production  and  support.  For  my  part,  I  shall  reserve 
my  homage,  together  witli  my  sweets,  for  that  benevo- 
lent master  who  is  continually  watering  and  refreshing 
me ;  nor  do  I  desire  ever  to  see  the  face  of  that  Sun  you 
so  vainly  idolize,  while  I  can  enjoy  the  cool  shade  of  this 
magnificent   saloon.     Truce   with    thy   blasphemies,   re- 


?oo 


iCSOrS  FABLES. 


plied  the  Sun-flower;  why  dost  thou  revile  that  glorious 
being,  who  dispenses  life  and  vigor,  not  only  to  us,  but  to 
every  part  of  the  creation?  Without  this,  alas!  how  in- 
effectual were  the  skill  and  vigilance  of  thy  boasted  mas- 
ter, either  to  support  thy  tender  frame,  or  even  to  preserve 
his  own !  But  this  must  ever  be  the  case  with  such  con- 
tracted understandings  who  think  it  sufficient  to  point  out 
our  more  immediate  benefactors,  without  regarding  that 
original  source,  from  which  all  beneficence  proceeds. 


XDt^eti  you  are  in  a  man's  pother  you  must  bo  as  {)e 
Hbs  you. 

THE  FISHER. 


A  Fisher  once  took  his  bagpipes  to  the  bank  of  a 
river,  and  played  upon  them  with  the  hope  of  making 
the  fish  rise;  but  never  a  one  put  his  nose  out  of  the 
water.  So  he  cast  his  net  into  the  river  and  soon  drew  it 
forth  filled  with  fish.  Then  he  took  his  bagpipes  again, 
and,  as  he  played,  the  fish  leapt  up  in  the  net.  Ah,  you 
dance  now  when  I  play,  said  he. 

Yes,  said  an  old  Fish,  but  not  to  your  music;  it  is 
under  the  constraint  of  your  power. 


THE  FISHER. 


201 


202  i?iSOPS  FABLES 

^olly  l-}as  often  too  arcat  an  tnfluoncc  in  tf?o  bircctton  of 
our  amours. 

LOVE  AND  FOLLY. 

In  the  most  early  state  of  things,  and  among  the  eldest 
of  beings,  existed  that  God  as  the  poets  entitle  him,  or 
rather  that  Daemon  as  Plato  calls  him,  whose  name  is 
Love.  He  was  assisting  the  father  of  the  Gods  in  re- 
ducing Chaos  into  order,  in  establishing  the  harmony  of 
the  universe,  and  in  regulating  and  putting  in  execution 
the  laws  by  which  the  operations  of  nature  are  per- 
formed, and  the  frame  of  the  world  subsists.  Universal 
good  seemed  to  be  his  only  study,  and  he  was  the  su- 
preme delight  both  of  Gods  and  men.  But  in  process  of 
time,  among  other  disorders  that  arose  in  the  universe, 
it  appeared  that  Love  began  to  deviate  very  often  from 
what  had  seemed  till  now  to  be  his  chief  pursuit;  he 
would  raise  frequent  disturbances  and  confusion  in  the 
course  of  nature ;  though  it  was  always  under  the  pretense 
of  maintaining  order  and  agreement.  It  seems  he  had 
entered  into  a  very  intimate  ac(|uaintance  with  a  person, 
who  had  but  lately  made  her  appearance  in  the  world. 
This  person  was  Folly,  the  daughter  of  Pride  and  Ignor- 
ance. They  were  very  often  together,  and  as  often  as 
they  were,  some  mischief  was  sure  to  be  the  consequence. 
By  degrees  he  introduced  her  into  the  heavens;  where  it 
was  their  great  joy  by  various  artifices  to  lead  the  Gods 
into  such  measures  as  involved  them  in  many  inconveni- 
ences, and  exposed  them  to  much  ridicule.  They  de- 
luded them  all  in  their  turns,  except  ]\Iinerva,  the  only 
divinity  that  escaped  their  wiles.  Even  Jupiter  himself 
was  induced  by  them  to  take  some  steps  not  at  all  suit- 


THE  LAURUSTINUS  AND  THE  ROSETREE.        203 

able  to  the  dignity  of  his  character.  Folly  had  gotten  the 
entire  ascendant  over  her  companion;  however,  she  was 
resolved  to  make  still  more  sure  of  him,  and  engross 
him  wholly  to  herself;  with  this  design  she  infused  a 
certain  intoxicating  juice  into  his  nectar,  the  effects  of 
which  were  so  powerful  that  in  the  end  it  utterly  deprived 
him  of  his  sight.  Love  was  too  much  prejudiced  in  her 
favor,  to  apprehend  her  to  be  the  cause  of  his  misfortune; 
nor  indeed  did  he  seem  to  be  in  the  least  sensible  of  his 
condition.  But  his  mother  Venus  soon  found  it  out; 
and  in  the  excess  of  her  grief  and  rage  carried  her  com- 
plaint to  Jupiter,  conjuring  him  to  punish  the  sorceress 
who  had  blinded  her  son.  Jupiter,  willing  to  clear  the 
heavens  of  such  troublesome  company,  called  both  par- 
ties before  him,  and  inquired  into  their  conduct.  After 
a  full  hearing,  he  determined  that  Folly  should  make 
some  sort  of  reparation  for  the  injury  done  to  Love;  and 
being  resolved  to  punish  both  for  the  many  irregularities 
which  they  had  lately  introduced,  he  condemned  Love  to 
wander  about  the  earth,  and  ordered  Folly  to  be  his 
guide. 

Ci?at  fricnb  is  t^tal^Iy  to  bz  respcctcb  at  all  times,  mljosc 
fricnbsfjip  is  cl^tcfli)  btstinguisl^cb  in  abucrsity. 

THE  LAURUSTINUS  AND  THE  ROSETREE. 

In  the  quarters  of  a  shrubbery,  where  deciduous  plants 
and  evergreens  were  intermingled  with  an  air  of  negli- 
gence, it  happened  that  a  Rose  grew  not  far  from  a 
Laurustinus.  The  Rose,  enlivened  by  the  breath  of  June, 
and  attired  in  all  its  gorgeous  blossoms,  looked  with 


204  iCSOPS  FABLES. 

much  contempt  on  the  Laurustinus;  who  had  nothing  to 
thsplay  l)ut  the  dusky  verdure  of  its  leaves.  What  a 
wretched  neighborhood, -cried  she,  is  this!  and  how  un- 
worthy to  partake  the  honor  of  my  company!  Better  to 
bloom  and  die  in  the  desert,  than  to  associate  myself  here 
with  such  low  and  dirty  vegetables.  And  is  this  my  lot 
at  last,  whom  every  nation  has  agreed  to  honor,  and  every 
Poet  conspired  to  reverence,  as  the  undoubted  sovereign 
of  the  field  and  garden?  If  I  really  am  so,  let  my  sub- 
jects at  least  keep  their  distance,  and  let  a  circle  remain 
vacant  round  me,  suitable  to  the  state  my  rank  requires. 
Here,  gardener — bring  thy  hatchet;  prithee  cut  down 
this  Laurustinus;  or  at  least  remove  it  to  its  proper 
sphere.  Be  pacified,  my  lovely  Rose,  replied  the  Gar- 
dener; enjoy  thy  sovereignty  with  moderation,  and  thou 
shalt  receive  all  the  homage  which  thy  beauty  can  re- 
quire. But  remember  that  in  winter,  when  neither  thou 
nor  any  of  thy  tribe  produce  one  flower  or  leaf  to  cheer 
me,  this  faithful  shrub,  which  thou  despiseth,  will  become 
the  glory  of  my  garden.  Prudence  therefore  as  well  as 
gratitude  is  concerned  in  the  protection  of  a  friend,  that 
will  show  his  friendship  in  adversity. 


familiarity  brccbs  contempt. 

THE  FOX  AND  THE  LION. 

When  first  the  Fox  saw  the  Lion  he  was  terribly 
frightened,  and  ran  away  and  hid  himself  in  the  wood. 
Next  time  however  he  came  near  the  King  of  Beasts  he 
stopped  at  a  safe  distance  and  watched  him  pass  by.  The 
third  time  thev  came  near  one  another  the  Fox  went 


THE  FOX  AND  THE  LION. 


205 


2o6  iESOFS  FABLES. 

Straight  up  to  the  Lion  and  passed  the  time  of  day  with 
him,  asking  liim  how  his  family  were,  and  when  he  should 
have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him  again;  then  turning  his 
tail,  he  parted  from  the  Lion  without  much  ceremony. 


Ct?c  facility  w\ti}  \vI}'kI}  many  epils  may  be  conquereb  at 

first,  iDl^ict?,  bcinij  \o\\j>  ncglectcb,  become 

insurmountable. 

THE  TENTYRITES  AND  THE  ICHNEUMON. 

A  Crocodile  of  prodigious  size,  and  uncommon  fierce- 
ness, infested  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  and  spread  desola- 
tion through  all  the  neighboring  country.  He  seized  the 
shepherd  together  with  the  sheep,  and  devoured  the 
herdsmen  as  well  as  the  cattle.  Emboldened  by  success, 
and  the  terror  which  prevailed  wherever  he  appeared,  he 
ventured  to  carry  his  incursions  even  into  the  island  of 
Tentyra,  and  to  brave  the  people,  who  boast  themselves 
the  only  tamers  of  his  race.  The  Tentyrites  themselves 
were  struck  with  horror,  at  the  appearance  of  a  monster 
so  much  more  terrible  than  they  had  even  seen  before; 
even  the  boldest  of  them  dared  not  to  attack  him  openly; 
and  the  most  experienced  long  endeavored  with  all  their 
art  and  address  to  surprise  him,  but  in  vain.    As  they 


THE  TULIP  AND  THE  ROSE.  207 

were  consulting  together,  what  they  should  do  in  these 
circumstances,  an  Ichneumon  stepped  forth,  and  thus  ad- 
dressed them:  I  perceive  your  distress,  neighbors;  and 
though  I  cannot  assist  you  in  the  present  difficulty,  yet 
give  me  leave  to  offer  you  some  advice  that  may  be  of 
use  to  you  for  the  future.  A  little  prudence  is  worth  all 
your  art  and  your  courage;  it  may  be  glorious  to  over- 
come a  great  evil,  but  the  wisest  way  is  to  prevent  it. 
You  despise  the  Crocodile  while  he  is  smah  and  weak;  and 
do  not  sufficiently  consider,  that  as  he  is  a  long-lived 
animal,  so  it  is  his  peculiar  property  to  grow  as  long  as 
he  lives.  You  see  I  am  a  poor,  little,  feeble  creature ;  yet 
am  I  much  more  terrible  to  the  Crocodile,  and  more  use- 
ful to  the  country,  than  you  are.  I  attack  him  in  the 
egg',  and  while  you  are  contriving  for  months  together, 
how  to  get  the  better  of  one  Crocodile,  and  all  to  no  pur- 
pose, I  effectually  destroy  fifty  of  them  in  a  day. 


(External  beauty  mill  oftett  ca\)i\vak;  but  it  is  internal 
merit  tijat  secures  tl?e  conquest. 

THE  TULIP  AXD  THE  ROSE. 

A  Tulip  and  a  Rose  happened  to  be  near  neighbors  in 
the  same  garden.  They  were  both  indeed  extremely  beau- 
tiful; yet  the  Rose  engaged  considerably  more  than  an 
equal  share  of  the  gardeners  attention.  Enamored,  as 
in  truth  he  was,  of  the  delicious  odor  it  ditTused ;  he  ap- 
peared, in  the  eye  of  the  Tulip,  to  be  always  kissing  and 
caressing  it.  The  envy  and  jealousy  of  rival  beauties  are 
not  easilv  to  be  concealed.     The  Tulip,  vain  of  its  ex- 


208  ^SOPS  FABLES. 

tcrnal  charms,  and  unable  to  bear  the  thought  of  being 
forsaken  for  anotlier,  remonstrated  in  these  words  against 
the  gardener's  partiaHty:  Why  are  my  beauties  thus 
neglected?  Are  not  my  colors  more  bright,  more  vari- 
ous, and  more  inviting,  than  any  which  that  red-faced 
Thing  has  to  display?  Why  then  is  she  to  engross  your 
whole  affection,  and  thus  forever  to  be  preferred? — Be 
not  dissatisfied,  my  fair  Tulip,  said  the  gardener;  I 
acknowledge  thy  beauties,  and  admire  them  as  they  de- 
serve. But  there  arc  found  in  my  favorite  Rose  such  at- 
tractive odors,  such  internal  charms,  that  I  enjoy  a  ban- 
(|uct  in  their  fragrance,  which  no  mere  beauty  can  pre- 
tend to  furnish. 


Ct  poracious  appetite,  anb  a  fonbncss  for  bainties,  equally 
take  off  our  attention  from  more  material  concerns. 

THE  WOODCOCK  AND  THE  MALLARD. 

A  Woodcock  and  a  Mallard  were  feeding  together  in 
some  marshy  ground  at  the  tail  of  a  mill-pond.  Lord, 
says  the  squeamish  Woodcock,  in  what  a  voracious  and 
beastly  manner  do  you  devour  all  that  comes  before  you ! 
Neither  snail,  frog,  toad,  nor  any  kind  of  filth,  can  es- 
cape the  fury  of  your  enormous  appetite.  All  alike  goes 
down,  without  measure  and  without  distinction. — What 
an  odious  vice  is  Gluttony! 

Good-lack!  replied  the  Mallard,  pray  how  came  you 
to  be  my  accuser?  And  whence  has  your  excessive  deli- 
cacy a  right  to  censure  my  plain  eating?  Is  it  a  crime  to 
fill  one's  belly?  Or  is  it  not  indeed  a  virtue  rather,  to 
be  pleased  with  the  food  which  nature  offers  us?     Surely 


THE  FLY  IN  ST.  PAULS  CUPOLA.  209 

I  would  sooner  be  charged  with  ghittony,  than  with  that 
finical  and  sickly  appetite,  on  which  yoti  are  pleased  to 
ground  your  superiority  of  taste. — What  a  silly  vice  is 
Daintiness! 

Thus  endeavoring  to  palliate  their  respective  passions, 
our  epicures  parted  with  a  mutual  contempt.  The  Mal- 
lard hasting  to  devour  some  garbage,  which  was  in  reality 
a  bait,  immediately  gorged  a  hook  through  mere  greedi- 
ness and  oversight;  while  the  Woodcock,  flying  through 
a  glade,  in  order  to  seek  his  favorite  juices,  was  entangled 
in  a  net,  spread  across  it  for  that  purpose;  falling  each 
of  them  a  sacrifice  to  their  different,  but  eqttal,  foibles. 


VOd  slfonlb  ncoer  estimate  tilings  beyonb  our  reactj  by  tlje 
iiarrotD  stanbarb  of  our  own  capacities. 

THE  FLY  IX  ST.  PAUL'S  CUPOLA. 

As  a  Fly  was  crawding  leisurely  up  one  of  the  columns 
of  St.  Paul's  'Cupola,  she  often  stopped,  surveyed,  exam- 
ined, and  at  last  broke  forth  into  the  following  exclama- 
tion. Strange!  that  any  one  who  pretended  to  be  an 
artist,  should  ever  leave  so  superb  a  structure,  with  so 
many  roughnesses  unpolished!  Ah,  my  friend!  said  a 
very  learned  architect,  who  hung  in  his  web  under  one 
of  the  capitals,  you  should  never  decide  of  things  beyond 
the  extent  of  your  capacity.  This  lofty  building  was  not 
erected  for  such  diminutive  animals  as  you  or  me;  but  for 
a  certain  sort  of  creatures,  who  are  at  least  ten  thousand 
times  as  large;  to  their  eyes,  it  is  very  possible,  these 
columns  may  seem  as  smooth,  as  to  you  appear  the 
wings  of  your  favorite  Mistress. 


210 


^SOPS  FABLES. 


n)e  muft  toil  in  i-uinnicr  if  toe  vooulb  cat  in  tDtnter. 
THE  ANT  AND  THE  GRASSHOPPER. 

In  a  field  one  summer's  day  a  Grasshopper  was  hop- 
ping about,  chirping  and  singing  to  its  heart's  content. 
An  Ant  passed  by,  bearing  along  with  great  toil  an  ear 
of  corn  he  was  taking  to  the  nest. 

Why  not  come  and  chat  with  me,  said  the  Grasshop- 
per, instead  of  toiling  and  moiling  in  that  way? 

I  am  helping  to  lay  up  food  for  the  winter,  said  the 
Ant,  and  recommend  you  to  do  the  same. 

Why  bother  about  winter?  said  the  Grasshopper;  we 
have  got  plenty  of  food  at  present.  But  the  Ant  went  on 
its  way  and  continued  its  toil.  When  the  winter  came 
the  Grasshopper  had  no  food,  and  found  itself  dying  of 
hunger,  while  it  saw  the  ants  distributing  every  day 
corn  and  grain  from  the  stores  they  had  collected  in 
the  summer.     Then  the  Grasshopper  knew. 


THE  SENSITIVE  PLANT  AND  THE  PALMTREE.    211 

(Xn  excess  of  belicacy  is  to  be  consibereb  rattier  as  an 
infirmity  tF)an  as  a  indue. 

THE  SENSITIVE  PLANT  AND  THE  PALMTREE. 

The  Sensitive  Plant  being  brought  out  of  the  green- 
house on  a  fine  summer's  day,  and  placed  in  a  beautiful 
grove  adorned  with  the  finest  forest  trees  and  the  most 
curious  plants,  began  to  give  himself  great  airs,  and  to 
treat  all  that  were  about  him  with  much  petulance  and 
disdain.  Lord!  says  he,  how  could  the  gardener  think 
of  setting  me  among  a  parcel  of  trees,  gross,  inanimate 
things,  mere  vegetables,  and  perfect  stocks!  Sure  he 
does  not  take  me  for  a  common  plant,  when  he  knows, 
that  I  have  the  sense  of  feeling  in  a  more  exquisite  de- 
gree than  he  has  himself.  It  really  shocks  me  to  see  into 
what  wretched  low  company  he  has  introduced  me;  it  is 
more  than  the  delicacy  of  my  constitution,  and  the  ex- 
treme tenderness  of  my  nerves,  can  bear.  Pray,  Mr, 
Acacia,  stand  a  little  farther  ofT,  and  don't  presume  quite 
so  much  upon  your  idle  pretense  of  being  my  cousin. 
Good  Mr.  Citron,  keep  your  distance,  I  beseech  you ;  your 
strong  scent  quite  overpowers  me.  Friend  Palmtree, 
your  offensive  shade  is  really  more  than  I  am  able  to 
support.  The  lofty  Palmtree,  though  little  moved  by  so 
unmannerly  an  attack,  condescended  to  rebuke  the  im- 
pertinent creature  in  the  following  manner:  Thou  veg- 
etable fribble !  learn  to  know  thyself,  and  thy  own  worth- 
lessness  and  insignificancy.  Thou  vainest  thyself  on  a 
vicious  softness,  a  false  delicacy,  the  very  defect  and  im- 
becility of  thy  nature.  What  art  thou  good  for,  that 
shrinkest  at  a  touch,  and  droopest  at  a  breath  of  air; 
feeble  and  barren,  a  perpetual  torment  to  thyself,  and 

14 


212  iESOPS    FABLES. 

wholly  useless  to  others.  Whereas  we,  whom  thou 
treatest  with  such  disdain,  make  a  grateful  return  to  man 
for  his  care  of  us;  some  of  us  yield  him  fruit;  others  are 
serviceable  to  him  by  their  strength  and  firmness;  we 
shade  him  from  the  heat  of  the  sun,  and  we  defend  him 
from  the  violence  of  the  winds.  I  am  particularly  dis- 
tinguished for  my  hardiness  and  perseverance,  my  steadi- 
ness and  constancy;  and  on  account  of  those  very  quali- 
ties which  thou  wantest  and  aftectest  to  despise,  have  the 
honor  to  be  made  the  emblem  of  conquest,  and  the  re- 
ward of  the  Conqueror, 


a  person  can  tjarbly  be  beemcb  too  cautious  rcl^erc  tl^e 
first  mistake  is  irretriepable,  or  fatal. 

THE  TWO  TROUT  AND  THE  GUDGEON. 

A  Fisherman  in  the  Month  of  May,  stood  angling  on 
the  bank  of  a  river,  with  an  artificial  fly.  He  threw  his 
bait  with  so  much  art,  that  a  young  Trout  was  rushing 
towards  it,  when  she  was  prevented  by  her  mother. 
Never,  said  she,  my  child,  be  too  precipitate,  where  there 
is  a  possibility  of  danger.  Take  due  time  to  consider, 
before  you  risk  an  action  that  may  be  fatal.  How  know 
you  whether  yon  appearance  be  indeed  a  fly,  or  the 
snare  of  an  enemy?  Let  someone  else  make  the  experi- 
ment before  you.  If  it  be  a  fly,  he  very  probably  will 
elude  the  first  attack,  and  then  the  second  may  be  made, 
if  not  with  success,  at  least  with  safety.  She  had  no 
sooner  uttered  this  caution,  than  a  Gudgeon  seized  upon 
the  pretended  fly,  and  became  an  example  to  the  giddy 
daughter,  of  the  great  importance  of  her  mother's  counsel. 


THE  TWO  TROUT  AND  THE  GUDGEON.  213 


214  /ESOP  S  FABLES. 

f^umility  extenuates  a  crime;  but  I^ypocrisy  anb  impu* 
bencc  arc  equal  aggrauations  of  it. 

THE  FARMER  AND  HIS  THREE  ENEMIES. 

A  Wolf,  a  Fox  and  a  Hare  happened  one  evening  to  be 
foraging  in  different  parts  of  a  Farmer's  yard.  Their 
first  effort  was  pretty  successful,  and  they  returned  in 
safety  to  their  several  quarters;  however,  not  so  happy 
as  to  be  unperceived  by  the  Farmer's  watchful  eye ;  who, 
placing  several  kinds  of  snares,  made  each  of  them  his 
prisoner  in  the  next  attempt.  He  first  took  the  Hare  to 
task,  who  confessed  she  had  eaten  a  few  turnip-tops, 
merely  to  satisfy  her  hunger;  besought  him  piteously  to 
spare  her  life,  and  promised  never  to  enter  his  grounds 
again.  He  then  accosted  the  Fox;  who  in  a  fawning  ob- 
sequious tone,  protested  that  he  came  into  his  premises, 
through  no  other  motive  than  pure  good  will,  to  restrain 
the  Hares  and  other  vermin  from  the  plunder  of  his  corn; 
and  that,  whatever  evil  tongues  might  say,  he  had  too 
great  a  regard  both  for  him  and  for  justice,  to  be  in  the 
least  capable  of  any  dishonest  action.  He  last  of  all  ex- 
amined the  Wolf,  what  business  brought  him  within  the 
purlieus  of  a  Farmer's  yard.  The  Wolf  very  impudently 
declared,  it  was  with  a  view  of  destroying  his  lambs,  to 
which  he  had  an  undoubted  right ;  that  the  Farmer  him- 
self was  the  only  felon,  who  robbed  the  community  of 
Wolves  of  what  was  meant  to  be  their  proper  food: — That 
this,  at  least,  was  his  opinion;  and,  whatever  fate  at- 
tended him,  he  should  not  scruple  to  risk  his  life  in  the 
pursuit  of  his  lawful  prey. 

The  Farmer  having  heard  their  pleas,  determined  the 
cause  in  the  following  manner.     The  Hare,  said  he,  de- 


THE  MONSTER  IN  THE  SUN.  21$ 

serves  compassion,  for  the  penitence  he  shows,  and  the 
humble  confession  he  has  made: — As  for  the  Fox  and  the 
Wolf,  let  them  be  hanged  together;  their  crimes  them- 
selves alike  deserve  it,  and  are  equally  heightened  by  the 
aggravations  of  hypocrisy  and  of  impudence. 


CI?c  fault  wz  somettntcs  impute  to  a  diaxackt  is  only  to 
be  founb  in  tlje  obseruer. 

THE  MONSTER  IN  THE  SUN. 

An  Astronomer  was  observing  the  Sun  through  a  tele- 
scope, in  order  to  take  an  exact  draught  of  the  several 
spots,  which  appear  upon  the  face  of  it.  While  he  was 
intent  upon  his  observations,  he  was  on  a  sudden  sur- 
prised with  a  new  and  astonishing  appearance;  a  large 
portion  of  the  surface  of  the  Sun  was  at  once  covered 
by  a  monster  of  enormous  size  and  horrible  form ;  it  had 
an  immense  pair  of  wings,  a  great  number  of  legs,  and  a 
long  and  vast  proboscis;  and  that  it  was  alive  was  very 
apparent,  from  his  quick  and  violent  motions,  which  the 
observer  could  from  time  to  time  plainly  perceive.  Be- 
ing sure  of  the  fact  (for  how  could  he  be  mistaken  in  what 
he  saw  so  clearly?)  our  Philosopher  began  to  draw  many 
surprising  conclusions  from  premises  so  well  established. 
He  calculated  the  magnitude  of  this  extraordinary  ani- 
mal, and  found  that  he  covered  about  two  square  degrees 
of  the  Sun's  surface ;  that  placed  upon  the  earth  he  would 
spread  over  half  one  hemisphere  of  it;  and  that  he  was 
seven  or  eight  times  as  big  as  the  moon.  But  what  was 
most  astonishing,  was  the  prodigious  heat  that  he  must 


2l6  iESOPS  FABLES. 

endure;  it  was  plain,  that  he  was  something  of  the  na- 
ture of  the  salamander,  but  of  a  far  more  fiery  tempera- 
ment; for  it  was  demonstrable  from  the  clearest  princi- 
ples, that  in  his  present  situation  he  must  have  acquired 
a  degree  of  heat  two  thousand  times  exceeding  that  of 
red  hot  iron.  It  was  a  problem  worth  considering, 
whether  he  subsisted  upon  the  gross  vapors  of  the  Sun, 
and  so  from  time  to  time  cleared  away  those  spots  which 
they  are  perpetually  forming,  and  which  would  otherwise 
wholly  obscure  and  incrustate  its  face;  or  whether  it 
might  not  feed  on  the  solid  substance  of  the  orb  itself, 
which  by  this  means,  together  with  the  constant  expense 
of  light,  must  soon  be  exhausted  and  consumed;  or 
whether  he  was  not  now  and  then  supplied  by  the  falling 
of  some  eccentric  Comet  into  the  Sun.  However  this 
might  be,  he  found  by  computation  that  the  earth  would 
be  but  short  allowance  for  him  for  a  few  months;  and 
farther,  it  was  no  improbable  conjecture,  that,  as  the 
earth  was  destined  to  be  destroyed  by  fire,  this  fiery  flying 
jMonster  would  remove  hither  at  the  appointed  time,  and 
might  much  more  easily  and  conveniently  effect  a  con- 
flagration, than  any  Comet,  hitherto  provided  for  that 
service.  In  the  earnest  pursuit  of  these,  and  many  the 
like  deep  and  curious  speculations,  the  Astronomer  was 
engaged,  and  was  preparing  to  communicate  them  to  the 
public.  In  the  meantime,  the  discovery  began  to  be 
much  talked  of;  and  all  the  virtuosi  gathered  together  to 
see  so  strange  a  sight.  They  were  equally  convinced  of 
the  accuracy  of  the  observation,  and  of  the  conclusions 
so  clearly  deduced  from  it.  At  last,  one,  more  cautious 
than  the  rest,  was  resolved,  before  he  gave  a  full  assent 
to  the  report  of  his  senses,  to  examine  the  whole  process 
of  the  affair,  and  all  the  parts  of  the  instrument;  he 
opened  the  Telescope,  and  behold!  a  small  Fly  w^as  in- 


THE   HARE  WITH  MANY  FRIENDS.  21/ 

closed  in  it,  which  having  settled  on  the  center  of  the 
object-glass  had  given  occasion  to  all  this  marvelous 
Theory. 

How  often  do  men,  through  prejudice  and  passion, 
through  envy  and  malice,  fix  upon  the  brightest  and  most 
exalted  characters  the  grossest  and  most  improbable  im- 
putations. It  behooves  us  upon  such  occasions  to  be  upon 
our  guard,  and  to  suspend  our  judgments;  the  fault  per- 
haps is  not  in  the  object,  but  in  the  mind  of  the  observer. 


..^V^^' 


^k 


^c  tf?at  f^as  many  frtcnbs,  \\<xs  no  frtcnbs. 
THE  HARE  WITH  MANY  FRIENDS. 


A  Hare  was  very  popular  with  the  other  beasts,  who  all 
claimed  to  be  her  friends.  But  one  day  she  heard  the 
hounds  approaching  and  hoped  to  escape  them  by  the 
aid  of  her  many  Friends.  So  she  went  to  the  horse, 
and  asked  him  to  carry  her  away  from  the  hounds  on 
his  back.  But  he  declined,  stating  that  he  had  import- 
ant work  to  do  for  his  master.  He  felt  sure,  he  said,  that 
all  her  other  friends  would  come  to  her  assistance.  She 
then  applied  to  the  bull,  and  hoped  that  he  would  repel 
the  hounds  with  his  horns.  The  bull  replied:  I  am  ver}' 
sorry,  but  I  have  an  appointment  with  a  lady;  but  I  feel 
sure  that  our  friend  the  goat  will  do  what  you  want.  The 
goat,  however,  feared  that  his  back  might  do  her  some 


2l8  ^SOPS  FABLES. 

harm  if  he  took  her  upon  it.  The  ram,  he  felt  sure,  was 
the  proper  friend  to  apply  to.  So  she  went  to  the  ram 
and  told  him  the  case.  The  ram  replied:  Another  time, 
my  dear  friend.  I  do  not  like  to  interfere  on  the  present 
occasion,  as  hounds  have  been  known  to  eat  sheep  as 
well  as  hares.  The  Hare  then  applied,  as  a  last  hope,  to 
the  calf,  who  regretted  that  he  was  unable  to  help  her, 
as  he  did  not  like  to  take  the  responsibility  upon  him- 
self, as  so  many  persons  older  than  himself  had  declined 
the  task.  By  this  time  the  hounds  were  quite  near,  and 
the  Hare  took  to  her  heels  and  luckily  escaped. 


<X  cjencrous  nature  roill  finb  resources  in  economy  for  tlje 
occasional  exercise  of  beneficence  anb  I^ospitality. 

THE  WATERFALL. 

From  the  head  of  a  narrow  valley  that  is  wholly  over- 
shaded  by  the  growth  of  trees,  a  large  cascade  bursts 
forth  with  a  luxuriance  unexpected.  First  the  current 
rushes  down  a  precipice  with  headlong  impetuosity;  then 
dashes  from  rock  to  rock,  and  divided  as  it  rolls  along 
by  fragments  of  stone  or  trunks  of  trees,  it  assumes  a 
milk-white  appearance,  and  sparkles  through  the  gloom. 
All  is  intricacy;  all  is  profusion;  and  the  tide,  however 
ample,  appears  yet  more  considerable  by  the  fantastic 
growth  of  roots  that  hide  the  limits  of  its  channel.  Thus 
bounding  down  from  one  descent  to  another,  it  no  sooner 
gains  the  level,  than  it  sinks  beneath  the  earth,  and  buries 
all  its  glory  at  our  feet, 

A  spectator,  privy  to  the  scanty  source  which  furnished 
out  this  grand  appearance,  stood  one  day  in  a  musing 


THE  ELM  TREE  AND  THE  VINE.  219 

posture,  and  began  to  moralize  on  its  prodigality.  Ah 
silly  stream !  said  he,  why  wilt  thou  hasten  to  exhaust  thy 
source,  and  thus  wilfully  incur  the  contempt  that  waits 
on  poverty?  Art  thou  ignorant  that  thy  funds  are  by  no 
means  equal  to  this  expense?  Fear  not,  my  kind  ad- 
viser, replied  the  generous  cascade;  the  gratitude  I  owe 
my  master,  who  collected  my  rills  into  a  stream,  induces 
me  to  entertain  his  friends  in  the  best  manner  I  am  able; 
when  alone,  I  act  with  more  economy. 


People  vol}o  prtbc  tfjcmsclDes  upon  tf^etr  inbcpenbence 
often  sitgljt  economy,  tl?e  sole  founbatton  of  it. 

THE  el:^i  tree  and  the  vine. 

An  extravagant  young  Vine,  vainly  ambitious  of  in- 
dependency, and  fond  of  rambling  at  large,  despised  the 
alliance  of  a  stately  Elm  that  grew  near,  and  courted  her 
embraces.  Having  risen  to  some  small  height  without 
any  kind  of  support,  she  shot  forth  her  flimsy  branches 
to  a  very  uncommon  and  superfluous  length;  calling  on 
her  neighbor  to  take  notice  how  little  she  wanted  his  as- 
sistance. Poor  infatuated  shrub,  replied  the  Elm,  how 
inconsistent  is  thy  conduct!  Wouldst  thou  be  truly  in- 
dependent, thou  shouldst  carefully  apply  those  juices  to 
the  enlargement  of  thy  stem,  which  thou  lavishest  in  vain 
upon  unnecessary  foliage.  I  shortly  shall  behold  thee 
groveling  on  the  ground;  yet  countenanced,  indeed,  by 
many  of  the  human  race,  who  intoxicated  with  vanity, 
have  despised  economy;  and  who,  to  support  for  a  mo- 
ment their  empty  boast  of  independence,  have  exhausted 
the  very  source  of  it  in  frivolous  expenses. 


220 


^SOP'S  FABLES. 


Ctppearanccs  arc  bcccpttre. 
THE  WOLF  IN  SHEEP'S  CLOTHING. 

A  Wolf  found  great  difificulty  in  getting  at  the  sheep 
owing  to  the  vigilance  of  the  shepherd  and  his  dogs. 
But  one  day  it  found  the  skin  of  a  sheep  that  had  been 
flayed  and  thrown  aside,  so  it  put  it  on  over  its  own  pelt 
and  strolled  down  among  the  sheep.  The  Lamb  that 
belonged  to  the  sheep,  whose  skin  the  Wolf  was  wearing, 
began  to  follow  the  Wolf  in  the  Sheep's  clothing;  so, 
leading  the  Lamb  a  little  apart,  he  soon  made  a  meal 
off  her,  and  for  some  time  he  succeeded  in  deceiving  the 
sheep,  and  enjoying  hearty  meals. 


THE  PEACOCK.  221 

^rutt?,  tijougl?  ranquisljcb,  returns  aa^ain;  slanbtr  is 
neper  of  a  burable  nature. 

THE  SUN  AND  THE  VAPOR. 

In  the  evening  of  a  summer's  day,  as  the  Sun  de- 
scended behind  the  western  hills,  he  beheld  a  thick  and 
unwholesome  Vapor  extending  itself  over  the  whole  face 
of  the  valleys.  Every  shrub  and  every  flower  immedi- 
ately folded  up  its  leaves,  and  shrunk  from  the  touch  of 
this  detested  enemy.  Well  hast  thou  chosen,  said  the 
god  of  day,  this  the  hour  of  my  departure,  to  spread  thy 
pestilential  influence,  and  taint  the  beauties  of  creation. 
Enjoy  for  a  short  space  the  notable  triumphs  of  thy 
malignity.  I  shall  return  again  with  the  morning,  re- 
pair thy  mischiefs,  and  put  an  end  to  thy  existence.  May 
the  slanderer,  in  time  discern  the  fate  of  calumny,  and  be 
warned  to  dread  the  return  of  the  Truth. 


CI?e  parabe  anb  ceremony  helongin^j  to  tf)e  great  are  often 
a  restraint  upon  tl^cir  freebom  anb  activity. 

THE  PEACOCK. 

The  Peacock,  who  at  first  v.^as  distinguished  only  by 
a  crest  of  feathers,  preferred  a  petition  to  Juno  that  he 
might  be  honored  also  with  a  train.  As  the  bird  was  a 
particular  favorite,  Juno  readily  enough  assented ;  and  his 
train  was  ordered  to  surpass  that  of  every  fowl  in  the 
creation.  The  Minion,  conscious  of  his  superb  appear- 
ance, thought  it  requisite  to  assume  a  proportionable  dig- 


222 


.liSOP'S  FABLES. 


nity  of  gait  and  manners.  The  common  poultry  of  the 
farm-yard  were  quite  astonished  at  his  magnificence;  and 
even  the  pheasants  themselves  beheld  him  with  an  eye  of 


^  Juno: 


envy. — But  when  he  attempted  to  fly,  he  perceived  him- 
self to  have  sacrificed  all  his  activity  to  ostentation;  and 
that  he  was  encumbered  by  the  pomp  in  which  he  placed 
his  glory. 


THE  HORSE  AND  THE  ASS.  223 

Cearning  \s  unboubtebly  of  tfje  utmost  abuantage  to  real 
genius:  ijct,  wl}in  put  in  competition,  tf?e  resources  of 
tlje  one  are  limiteb,  anb  of  tl?e  otI?er  inexfjausttble. 

THE  NIGHTINGALE  AND  THE  BULLFINCH. 

A  Nightingale  and  a  Bullfinch  occupied  two  cages  in 
the  same  apartment.  The  Nightingale  perpetually  varied 
her  song,  and  every  effort  she  made,  afforded  fresh  enter- 
tainment. The  Bullfinch  always  whistled  the  same  dull 
tune  that  he  had  learnt,  till  all  the  family  grew  weary  of  the 
disgustful  repetition.  What  is  the  reason,  said  the  Bull- 
finch one  day  to  his  neighbor,  that  your  songs  are  always 
heard  with  peculiar  attention,  w^hile  mine,  I  observe,  are 
almost  as  wholly  disregarded?  The  reason,  replied  the 
Nightingale,  is  obvious;  your  audience  are  sufficiently 
acquainted  with  every  note  you  have  been  taught,  and 
thev  know  your  natural  abilities  too  well,  to  expect  any- 
thing new  from  that  quarter.  How  then  can  you  suppose 
they  will  listen  to  a  songster,  from  whom  nothing  native 
or  original  is  to  be  expected? 


Better  fjumble  security  tfjan  gtlbeb  banger. 
THE  HORSE  AND  THE  ASS. 

A  Horse  and  an  Ass  were  traveling  together,  the 
Horse  prancing  along  in  its  fine  trappings,  the  Ass  car- 
rying with  difficulty  the  heavy  weight  in  its  panniers. 
I  wish  I  were  you,  sighed  the  Ass;  nothing  to  do  and 


224  ^SOP'S  FABLES. 

well  fed,  and  all  that  fine  harness  upon  you.  Next  day, 
however,  there  was  a  great  battle,  and  the  Horse  was 
wounded  to  death  in  the  final  charge  ot  the  day.     His 


friend,  the  Ass,  happened  to  pass  by  shortly  afterwards 
and  found  him  on  the  point  of  death.  1  w^as  wrong, 
said  the  Ass.    One  has  to  pay  dearly  for  honors. 


THE  FOX  AND  THE  CAT.  22$ 

^e  vol}0  is  puffeb  up  toxtl}  tijc  least  gale  of  prosperity,  mill 
as  subbenlij  sink  beneati?  tl?e  Masts  of  misfortune. 

THE  OAK  AND  THE  SYCAMORE. 

A  Sycamore  grew  beside  an  Oak;  and  being  not  a  little 
elevated  by  the  first  warm  days  in  spring,  began  to  pour 
forth  its  leaves  apace,  and  to  despise  the  naked  Oak  for 
insensibility,  and  want  of  spirit.  The  Oak,  conscious  of 
its  superior  nature,  made  this  stoical  reply.  Be  not,  my 
friend,  so  much  delighted  with  the  first  address  of  every 
fickle  zephyr;  consider  the  frosts  may  yet  return;  do  not 
afiford  them  an  opportunity  to  nip  thy  beauties  in  their 
bud,  if  thou  covetest  an  equal  share  in  all  the  glories  of 
the  rising  year.  As  for  me,  I  only  wait  to  see  this  genial 
warmth  a  little  confirmed;  and,  whenever  this  is  the  case, 
I  shall  perhaps  display  a  majesty  that  will  not  easily  be 
shaken.  But  the  tree  that  appears  too  suddenly  affected 
by  the  first  favorable  glance  of  spring,  will  ever  be  the 
first  to  shed  its  verdure,  and  to  droop  beneath  the 
frowns  of  winter. 


3iikv  one  safe  tr»aij  tFjan  a  fjunbreb  on  voI}'kI}  you  can- 
not reckon. 

THE  FOX  AND  THE  CAT. 

A  Fox  was  boasting  to  a  Cat  of  its  clever  devices  for 
escaping  its  enemies.  I  have  a  whole  bag  of  tricks,  he 
said,  which  contains  a  hundred  ways  of  escaping  my 
enemies. 


226 


iESOP'S  FABLES. 


I  have  only  one,  said  tlic  Cat;  but  I  can  generally  man- 
age with  that.  Just  at  that  moment  they  heard  the  cry 
of  a  pack  of  hounds  coming  towards  them,  and  the  Cat 
ininiediately  scampered  up  a  tree  and  hid  herself  in  the 
boughs.     Tliis  is  my  plaM,  said  the  Cat.    What  are  you 


going  to  do?  The  Fox  thought  first  of  one  way,  then 
of  another,  and  while  he  was  debating  the  hounds  came 
nearer  and  nearer,  and  at  last  the  Fox  in  his  confusion 
was  caught  up  by  the  hounds  and  soon  killed  by  the 
huntsmen.  Miss  Puss,  who  had  been  looking  on,  said: 
One  safe  way  is  enough  for  me. 


THE  KINGFISHER  AND  THE  SPARROW.  227 

ITTcn's  natural  tempers  rt>ill  best  birect  tfjcm  to  tljeir  proper 
spljere,  in  tlje  pursuit  of  fjappiness. 

THE  KINGFISHER  AND  THE  SPARROW. 

As  a  Kingfisher  was  sitting  beneath  the  shade,  upon  the 
banks  of  a  river,  she  was  surprised  on  a  sudden  by  the 
fluttering  of  a  Sparrow,  that  had  eloped  from  the  neigh- 
boring town,  to  visit  her.  When  the  first  compHments 
were  over,  How  is  it  possible,  said  the  Sparrow,  that  a 
bird  so  finely  adorned,  can  think  of  spending  all  her  days 
in  the  very  depth  of  retirement!  The  golden  plumage  of 
your  breast,  the  shining  azure  of  your  pinions,  were  never 
given  you  to  be  concealed,  but  to  attract  the  wonder  of 
beholders.  Why  then  should  you  not  endeavor  to  know 
the  world,  and  be,  at  the  same  time,  yourself,  both  known 
and  admired?  You  are  very  complaisant  at  least,  replied 
the  Kingfisher,  to  conclude  that  my  being  admired  would 
be  the  consequence  of  my  being  known.  But  it  has 
sometimes  been  my  lot,  in  the  lonesome  valleys  that  I 
frequent,  to  hear  the  complaints  of  beauty  that  has  been 
neglected;  and  of  worth  that  has  been  despised.  Pos- 
sibly it  does  not  always  happen,  that  even  superior  excel- 
lence is  found  to  excite  admiration,  or  to  obtain  encour- 
agement. I  have  learned  besides,  not  to  build  my  happi- 
ness upon  the  opinion  of  others,  so  much  as  upon  my 
own  conviction,  and  the  approbation  of  my  own  heart. 
Remember,  I  am  a  King-fisher;  these  woods  and  streams 
are  my  delight ;  and  so  long  as  they  are  free  from  winds 
and  tempests,  believe  me,  I  am  perfectly  content  with 
my  situation.  Why  therefore  should  I  court  the  noise 
and  bustle  of  the  world,  which  I  find  so  little  agreeable  to 
my  native  disposition?     It  may  be  the  joy  of  a  Sparrow  to 

15 


228  ^SOPS  FABLES. 

indulge  his  curiosity,  and  to  display  his  eloquence.  I, 
for  my  part,  love  silence,  privacy,  and  contemplation;  and 
think  that  everyone  should  consult  the  native  bias  of  his 
temper,  before  he  chooses  the  way  of  life  in  which  he  ex- 
pects to  meet  with  happiness. 


^Ije  goobncss  of  Procibcrtcc,  apparent  in  I)t5  roorks,  is  a 

proper  niotipe  for  tranquillitij  antibst  eueri) 

exertion  of  l}is  poruer. 

THE  HERAIIT. 

A  certain  Hermit  had  scooped  his  cave  near  the  summit 
of  a  lofty  mountain,  from  whence  he  had  an  opportunity 
of  surveying  a  large  extent  both  of  sea  and  land.  He  sat, 
one  evening,  contemplating  with  pleasure  on  the  various 
objects  that  lay  diffused  before  him.  Tlie  woods  were 
dressed  in  the  brightest  verdure;  the  thickets  adorned 
with  the  gayest  blossoms.  The  birds  carolled  beneath  the 
branches;  the  lambs  frolicked  around  the  meads;  the 
peasant  whrstled  beside  his  team;  and  the  ships  driven 
by  gentle  gales  were  returning  safely  into  their  proper 
harbors.  In  short,  the  arrival  of  spring  had  doubly  en- 
livened the  whole  scene  before  his  eye;  and  every  object 
yielded  a  display  either  of  beauty  or  of  happiness. 

On  a  sudden  arose  a  violent  storm.  The  winds  mus- 
tered all  their  fury,  and  whole  forests  of  oak  lay  scattered 
on  the  ground.  Darkness  instantly  succeeded;  hail- 
stones and  rain  were  poured  forth  in  cataracts,  and  light- 
ning and  thunder  added  horror  to  the  gloom. 

And  now  the  sea  piled  up  in  mountains  bore  aloft  the 


THE  WOLF  AND  THE  SHEPHERD'S  DOG.  229 

largest  vessels,  while  the  horrid  uproar  of  its  waves 
drowned  the  shrieks  of  the  wretched  mariners.  When 
the  whole  tempest  had  exhausted  its  fur}',  it  was  in- 
stantly followed  by  the  shock  of  an  earthquake. 

The  poor  inhabitants  of  the  neighboring  villages 
flocked  in  crowds  to  our  Hermit's  cave;  fully  convinced, 
that  his  well-known  sanctity  would  be  able  to  protect 
them  in  their  distress.  They  were,  however,  not  a  little 
surprised  at  the  profound  tranquillity  that  appeared  in  his 
countenance.  My  friends,  said  he,  be  not  dismayed. 
Terrible  to  me,  as  well  as  to  you,  would  have  been  the 
war  of  elements  we  have  just  beheld;  but  that  I  have 
meditated  with  so  much  attention  on  the  various  works 
of  Providence,  as  to  be  persuaded  that  his  goodness  is 
eqitel  to  his  power. 


Common  I^onesty  is  a  better  prtnciple  tijan  wl}at  wc  often 
compliment  witl}  tfje  name  of  t^eroism. 

THE  WOLF  AND  THE  SHEPHERD'S  DOG. 

A  Wolf  ranging  over  tlie  forest  came  within  the  borders 
of  a  sheep-walk ;  when  meeting  with  the  Shepherd's  Dog, 
that  with  a  surly  sort  of  growl  demanded  his  business 
there,  he  thought  proper  to  put  on  as  innocent  an  ap- 
pearance as  he  could,  and  protested  upon  his  honor  that 
he  meant  not  the  least  offense.  I  am  afraid,  said  the 
Dog,  the  pledge  of  your  honor  is  but  a  poor  deposit  for 
your  honesty;  you  must  not  take  it  amiss,  if  I  object  to 
the  security.  No  slur  upon  my  reputation,  replied  the 
\YoU,  I  beg  of  you.  My  sense  of  honor  is  as  delicate,  as 
my  great  achievements  are  renowned.     I  would  not  leave 


230  iT:SOP'S   FABLES. 

a  stain  upon  niy  memory  for  the  world.  The  fame  of 
what  are  commonly  called  great  achievements  is  very 
precious,  to  be  sure,  returned  the  Dog;  almost  equal  to 
the  character  of  an  excellent  butcher,  a  gallant  highway- 
man, or  an  expert  assassin.  While  the  Dog  was  yet 
speaking,  a  lamb  happened  to  stray  within  reach  of  our 
hero.  The  temptation  was  stronger  than  he  was  able  to 
resist:  He  sprung  upon  his  prey,  and  was  scouring 
hastily  away  with  it.  However,  the  Dog  seized,  and  held 
him,  till  the  arrival  of  the  Shepherd,  who  took  measures 
for  his  execution.  Just  as  he  was  going  to  dispatch  him, 
I  observe,  says  the  Dog,  that  one  of  your  noble  achieve- 
ments, is  the  destruction  of  the  innocent.  You  are  wel- 
come to  the  renown,  as  you  are  also  to  the  reward  of  it. 
As  for  me,  I  shall  prefer  the  credit  of  having  honestly  de- 
fended my  master's  property,  to  any  fame  you  have 
acquired  by  thus  heroically  invading  it. 


Hcper  soar  aloft  on  an  enemy's  pinions. 
THE  TORTOISE  AND  THE  BIRDS. 

A  Tortoise  desired  to  change  its  place  of  fesidence, 
so  he  asked  an  Elagle  to  carry  him  to  his  new  home, 
promising  her  a  rich  reward  for  her  trouble.  The  Eagle 
agreed,  and  seizing  the  Tortoise  by  the  shell  with  her 
talons,  soared  aloft.  On  their  way  they  met  a  Crow,  who 
said  to  the  Eagle:  Tortoise  is  good  eating.  The  shell 
is  too  hard,  said  the  Eagle,  in  reply.  The  rocks  will  soon 
crack  the  shell,  was  the  Crowd's  answer,  and  the  Eagle, 
taking  the  hint,  let  fall  the  Tortoise  on  a  sharp  rock,  and 
the  two  birds  made  a  hearty  meal  off  the  Tortoise. 


THE  TORTOISE  AND  THE  BIRDS. 


231 


©ipds 
Knade  a 
hearty  meal 


theZToptoise. 


232  iESOPS  FABLES. 

tEI?c  canbib  rcabcr  mill  flnb  improDcmcnt  tutjcrc  tijc  fro» 
marb  critic  finbs  only  matter  of  censure. 

THE  BEE  AND  THE  SPIDER. 

On  the  leaves  and  flowers  of  the  same  shrub,  a  Spider 
and  a  Bee  pursued  their  several  occupations;  the  one  cov- 
ering her  thighs  with  honey ;  the  other  distending  his  bag 
with  poison.  The  Spider,  as  he  glanced  his  eye  obliquely 
at  the  Bee,  was  ruminating  with  spleen  on  the  superiority 
of  her  productions.  And  how  happens  it,  said  he,  in  a 
peevish  tone,  that  I  am  able  to  collect  nothing  but  poison, 
from  the  self-same  plant  that  supplies  thee  with  honey? 
My  pains  and  industry  are  not  less  than  thine;  in  those 
respects,  we  are  each  indefatigable.  It  proceeds  only, 
replied  the  Bee,  from  our  opposite  tempers  and  constitu- 
tion. The  benevolence  and  sweetness  of  my  disposition 
gives  a  similar  flavor  to  everything  I  touch ;  whereas  thy 
malignity  turns  even  that  to  poison,  which  by  a  different 
process  had  been  the  purest  of  honey. 


Union  gices  strengtl^. 

THE  BUNDLE  OF  STICKS. 

An  old  man  on  the  point  of  death  summoned  his  sons 
around  him  to  give  them  some  parting  advice.  He  or- 
dered his  servants  to  bring  in  a  faggot  of  sticks,  and  said 
to  his  eldest  son:  Break  it.  The  son  strained  and 
strained,  but  with  all  his  efforts  was  unable  to  break  the 


THE  BUNDLE  OF  STICKS. 


233 


Bundle.  The  other  sons  also  tried,  but  none  of  them 
was  successful.  Untie  the  faggots,  said  the  father,  and 
each  of  you  take  a  stick.     When  they  had  done  so,  he 


=n 


LI  '"  ' 


called  out  to  them:  Now  break;  and  each  stick  was 
easily  broken.  You  see  my  meaning,  said  their  father. 
Let  affection  bind  you  to  one  another.  Together  you 
are  strong;  separated  you  are  weak. 


234  ^SOP'S  TABLES. 

3t  is  tI)o  fate  of  cnuij  to  attack  ecen  tf^ose  cljaracrers 
ir)l?icl?  are  superior  to  its  malice 

THE  SNAIL  AND  THE  STATUE. 

A  Statue  of  the  Medicean  \'enus  was  erected  in  a  grove 
sacred  to  beauty  and  the  fine  arts.  Its  modest  attitude, 
its  elegant  proportions,  assisted  by  the  situation  in  which 
it  was  placed,  attracted  the  regard  of  every  delicate  -ob- 
server. A  Snail,  who  had  fixed  himself  beneath  the  moul- 
ding of  the  pedestal,  beheld  with  an  evil  eye  the  admira- 
tion it  excited.  Wherefore,  watching  his  opportunity,  he 
strove,  by  trailing  his  filthy  slime  over  every  limb  and 
feature,  to  obliterate  those  beauties  which  he  could  not 
endure  to  hear  so  much  applauded.  An  honest  linnet, 
however,  who  observed  him  at  his  dirty  work,  took  the 
freedom  to  assure  him  that  he  would  infallibly  lose  his 
labor:  For  although,  said  he,  to  an  injudicious  eye,  thou 
mayst  sully  the  perfections  of  this  finished  piece;  yet  a 
more  accurate  and  close  inspector  will  admire  its  beauty, 
through  all  the  blemishes  with  which  thou  hast  endeav- 
ored to  disguise  it. 

beauty  joineb  it>itl?  innocence  is  universally  respecteb; 
malice  abbcb  to  beformity  is  unipersally  abfjorreb. 

THE  TOAD  AND  THE  GOLDFISH. 

As  a  Goldfish,  newly  brought  from  the  warm  regions 
of  the  East,  displayed  his  beauties  in  the  sun;  a  Toad,  who 
had  long  eyed  him  with  no  small  degree  of  envy,  broke 
out  into  this  exclamation:     How  partial  and  how  fan- 


THE  SICK  LION.  235 

tastic  is  the  favor  of  mankind!  Regardless  of  every  ex- 
cellence that  is  obvious  and  familiar ;  and  only  struck  with 
what  is  imported  from  a  distant  climate  at  a  large  ex- 
pense! What  a  pompous  basin  is  here  constructed,  and 
what  extreme  fondness  is  here  shown,  for  this  insignificant 
stranger!  When  a  quadruped  of  my  importance  is  neg- 
lected, shunned,  and  even  persecuted.  Surely  were  I 
to  appear  in  China.  I  should  receive  the  same  or  perhaps 
greater  honors  than  are  lavished  here  upon  this  tinsel 
favorite. 

The  Goldfish,  conscious  of  his  real  beauty,  and  some- 
what angry  to  be  thus  insulted  by  so  very  unsightly  and 
deformed  a  creature,  made  this  rational  reply:  It  must 
be  confessed  that  the  opinions  of  men  are  sometimes 
guided  by  the  caprice  you  mention.  Yet,  as  for  me  and 
the  rest  of  my  tribe,  it  is  well  known  that  if  we  are  ad- 
mired abroad,  we  are  not  less  admired  at  home;  being 
there  esteemed  by  the  greatest  mandarins,  fed  by  stated 
officers,  and  lodged  in  basins  as  superb  as  any  your  na- 
tion has  to  boast.  Perhaps  then,  notwithstanding  }our 
sage  remark,  there  are  some  virtues  and  some  qualities 
that  please  or  disgust  almost  universally;  and  as  inno- 
cence joined  to  beauty  seldom  fails  to  procure  esteem,  so 
malice  added  to  deformity  will  cause  as  general  a  de- 
testation. 

0nli)  comarbs  insult  bying  majesty. 
THE  SICK  LION. 

A  Lion,  worn  out  with  old  age,  lay  drawing  his  last 
breath,  and  several  of  the  beasts  who  had  formerly  been 
sufferers  by  him  came  and  revenged  themselves.     The 


236 


iESOPS  FABLES. 


Boar,  with  his  powerful  tusks,  ripped  his  flank,  and  the 
Bull  gored  his  sides  with  his  horns.  Tlie  Ass,  too,  seeing 
there  was  no  danger,  came  up  and  threw  his  heels  into 


the  Lion's  face.  Thereupon  the  poor  old  expiring  tyrant, 
with  his  dying  groan  uttered  these  words:  How  much 
worse  than  a  thousand  deaths  it  is  to  be  spurned  by  so 
base  a  creature ! 


HERCULES  AND  THE  WAGGONER.       237 

C^e  man  toi}0  r»alues  Ijimsclf  too  Ijtgljlij  on  tjis  birtfj  Ijas 
selbom  muci?  claim  to  any  otljcr  merit. 

THE  MUSHROOM  AND  THE  ACORN. 

An  Acorn  fell  from  the  top  of  an  old  venerable  Oak, 
full  on  the  head  of  a  Mushroom  that  unhappily  sprung 
up  beneath  it.  Wounded  by  the  blow,  the  ^Mushroom  com- 
plained of  the  incivility.  Impertinent  upstart,  replied  the 
Acorn,  why  didst  thou,  with  familiar  boldness,  approach 
so  near  to  thy  superiors?  Shall  the  wretched  offspring  of 
a  dunghill  presume  to  raise  its  head  on  a  spot  ennobled  by 
my  ancestor  for  so  many  generations?  I  do  not  mean, 
returned  the  Mushroom,  to  dispute  the  honor  of  thy 
birth,  or  to  put  my  own  in  competition  with  it.  On  the 
contrary,  I  must  acknowledge  that  I  hardly  know  from 
whence  I  sprung.  But  sure  it  is  merit,  and  not  mere 
ancestry,  that  obtains  the  regard  of  those  whose  appro- 
bation is  truly  valuable.  I  have  little  perhaps  to  boast, 
but  surely  thou  who  hast  thus  insulted  me,  canst  have  no 
pretense  to  any.  I  please  the  palates  of  mankind,  and 
give  a  poignant  flavor  to  their  most  elegant  entertain- 
ments; while  thou,  with  all  thy  boasted  ancestry,  art  fit 
to  fatten  Hogs  alone. 


CI?e  gobs  I?elp  tt?cm  tl?at  Ijelp  tijcmscbcs. 

HERCULES  AND  THE  WAGGONER. 

A  Waggoner  was  once  driving  a  heavy  load  along 
a  very  muddy  way.  At  last  he  came  to  a  part  of  the 
road  where  the  wheels  sank  half-way  into  the  mire,  and 


238 


iESOP'S  FABLES. 


the  more  the  horses  pulled,  the  deeper  sank  the  wheels. 
So  the  Waggoner  threw  down  his  whip,  and  knelt  down 
and  prayed  to  Hercules  the  Strong:     O  Hercules,  help 


me  in  this  my  hour  of  distress,  quoth  he.     But  Hercules 
appeared  to  him,  and  said: 

Tut,  man,  don't  sprawl  there.     Get  up  and  put  your 
shoulder  to  the  wheel. 


THE  DOVE.  239 

Ct?e  Dulgar  arc  captti?atcb  by  tl?e  works  of  art;  but  tl?e 
pljtlosopl^er  abmtres  tt?e  toorks  of  nature. 

THE  STARS  AND  THE  SKYROCKET. 

As  a  Rocket,  on  a  rejoicing'  night,  ascended  through 
the  air,  and  observed  the  stream  of  light  that  dis- 
tinguished his  passage,  he  could  not  forbear  exulting  in 
his  elevation,  and  calling  upon  the  Stars  to  do  him  rever- 
ence. Behold,  said  he,  what  gazing  multitudes  admire 
the  luster  of  my  train,  whilst  all  your  feeble  sparks  of 
light  pass  unobserved,  or  disregarded !  The  Stars  heard 
his  empty  boast  with  a  silent  indignation;  the  Dog-Star 
only  vouchsafed  to  answer  him.  How  erroneous,  said 
he,  are  their  conclusions  who  listen  to  the  voice  of  popu- 
lar applause!  It  is  true,  the  novelty  of  thy  appearance 
may  procure  to  thee  more  admiration  than  is  allotted  to 
our  daily  course,  although  indeed  a  lasting  miracle.  But 
do  not  estimate  thy  importance  by  the  capricious  fancy 
of  misguided  men.  Know  thyself  to  be  the  useless  pa- 
geant, the  frail  production  of  a  mortal  hand.  Even  while 
I  speak,  thy  blaze  is  extinguished,  and  thou  art  sunk  into 
oblivion.  We,  on  the  other  hand,  were  lighted  up  by 
heaven  for  the  advantage  of  mankind,  and  our  glory 
shall  endure  forever. 


Cl?e  lope  of  liberty,  in  mell  constituteb  minbs,  tjolbs  a 
place  little  inferior  to  tijat  of  natural  affection. 

THE  DOVE. 

A  Dove  that  had  a  mate  and  young  ones,  happening  to 
spy  her  cage  door  open,  was  driven  by  a  sudden  impulse 
to  fly  out  into  an  adjacent  grove.  There,  perched  upon 
the  bough  of  a  sycamore,  she  sat  as  it  were  wrapt  in 


240  iESOPS  FABLES. 

deep  contemplation ;  not  recovering  from  her  reverie,  un- 
til the  owner  drew  nigh  unseen,  and  brought  her  back 
to  her  little  family. 

Art  thou  not  ashamed  then,  says  her  mate,  thus  to 
desert  thy  helpless  offspring?  Art  thou  not  base  to 
abandon  me,  for  the  company  of  birds  to  whom  thou  art 
a  stranger?  Could  I  have  harbored  such  a  thought?  I, 
who  have  been  ever  constant  to  our  first  engagement; 
and  must  have  died  of  mere  despair,  hadst  thou  not  re- 
turned to  my  embraces?  But  how,  alas,  returned?  Not, 
as  it  seems,  by  choice;  but  ensnared  by  dint  of  artifice, 
and  brought  hither  by  constraint. 

Have  patience,  replied  the  rambler,  and  hear  the  plea 
of  thy  repentant  mate.  Witness  all  ye  powers  of  wedlock, 
ye  that  know  what  passes  in  the  hearts  of  Doves,  if  ever, 
before  this  unhappy  moment,  I  felt  a  wish  to  part  from 
thee!  The  door,  so  seldom  open,  allowed  but  one  mo- 
ment for  deliberation,  and  I  happened  to  decide  amiss. 
When  removed  to  yonder  wood,  the  air  of  liberty  breathed 
so  sweet,  that,  with  horror  I  speak  it,  I  felt  a  suspense 
about  returning  to  the  cage.  Pardon,  I  pray  thee,  this 
one  crime,  and  be  well  assured  I  will  relapse  no  more. 
And  that  thou  mayst  be  the  more  induced  to  pardon  it, 
know  that  the  love  of  liberty  burns  ever  the  strongest  in 
bosoms  that  are  most  prone  to  conjugal  affection  and  the 
love  of  young. 

Citigious  V arsons  rarely  wtiq>li  tl^e  cause,  togctl^er  mttf 
tlje  consequence,  of  tijetr  impetuositij. 

THE  FIGHTING  COCKS  AND  THE  TURKEY. 

Two  Cocks  of  the  genuine  game-breed,  met  by  chance 
upon  the  confines  of  their  respective  walks.  To  such 
great  and  heroic  souls,  the  smallest  matter  imaginable  af- 


THE  HARE  AND  THE  TORTOISE.  24I 

fords  occasion  for  dispute.  They  approach  each  other 
with  pride  and  indignation ;  they  look  defiance,  they  crow 
a  challenge;  and  immediately  commences  a  long  and 
bloody  battle.  It  was  fought  on  both  sides  with  so  much 
courage  and  dexterity;  they  gave  and  they  received  such 
deep  and  desperate  wounds;  that  they  both  lay  down 
upon  the  turf  utterly  spent,  blinded,  and  disabled.  While 
this  was  their  situation,  a  Turkey  that  had  been  a  spec- 
tator of  all  that  passed  between  them,  drew  near  to  the 
field  of  battle,  and  reproved  them  in  this  manner.  How 
foolish  and  absurd  has  been  your  quarrel,  my  good  neigh- 
bors! A  more  ridiculous  one  could  scarce  have  hap- 
pened, among  the  most  contentious  of  all  creatures,  men. 
Because  you  have  crowed  perhaps  in  each  other's  hear- 
ing, or  that  one  of  you  has  picked  up  a  grain  of  corn  upon 
the  territories  of  his  rival,  you  have  both  rendered  your- 
selves miserable  for  the  remainder  of  your  days 


piobbtng  triins  tl?e  race. 
THE  HARE  AND  THE  TORTOISE. 

The  Hare  was  once  boasting  of  his  speed  before  the 
other  animals.  I  have  never  yet  been  beaten,  said  he, 
when  I  put  forth  my  full  speed.  I  challenge  any  one 
here  to  race  with  me. 

The  Tortoise  said  quietly:     I  accept  your  challenge. 

That  is  a  good  joke,  said  the  Hare;  I  could  dance 
round  you  all  the  way. 

Keep  your  boasting  till  you  ve  .^eaten,  answered  the 
Tortoise.     Shall  we  race? 


242 


iESOPS  FABLES. 


Su  a  course  was  fixed  and  a  start  was  made.  The  Hare 
darted  almost  out  of  sight  at  once,  but  soon  stopped 
and,  to  show  his  contempt  for  the  Tortoise,  lay  down  to 
have  a  nap.  The  Tortoise  plodded  on  and  plodded  on 
and  when  the  Hare  awoke  from  his  nap,  he  saw  the  Tor- 
toise just  near  the  winning-post  and  could  not  run  up  in 
time  to  save  the  race.  Then  said  the  Tortoise:  Slow 
and  steadv  does  it 


/.// 


x/^r 


'^  TOMSK  FROM  W„,c„  BORROWED, 

lOAN  DEPT 

«--ed  Boo,      .  subli-^t -ZTd^e  „„, 


General  Library 


U.C.  BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


BDQBDlSbSS 


YP 


'^02G 


t 

1: 


i