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
/.//
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