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 ^ Q y ;;; 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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