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OLD JEWELS RESET.FABLES IN VERSEBY J. W. CROLY.LONDON: BELL AND DALDY.
OLD JEWELS RESET.FABLES IN VERSEBY J. W. CROLY.WITH TWENTY-FIVE ILLUSTRATIONSBY J. PROCTOR.ENGRAVED BY JOHN R. BATTERSHELL.LONDON:BELL AND DALDY, YORK STREET,COVENT GARDEN.1873.(The R/.',t < i/ 7 'ansla'wun and R,'prtduction is 'scv zed.)
CHISWICK PRESS :-PRINTED BY WHITTINGHAM AND WILKINS,TOOKS COUlRT, CHANCERY LANE,
PREFACE.T once amongst the oldest and most popular,the Fable has also ever been one of themost useful methods of instruction. Thereis in this form of conveying home-truths a power ofaffecting the common understanding possessed by noother. Forcible though simple, and didactic withoutbeing dull, and even when satirical not necessarily offen-sive, it is capable of the most various and important uses." It is," as has been well said, "an illustrative method ofteaching duty by example rather than precept. It reachesthe difficult end of impressing principles by a vivid repre-sentation of sensible images, or the intelligent discourseand action of the brute creation. In the society ofbeasts we are taught the social and moral obligations ofmen, while in their characters we find the features cor-responding to those of our own species. Qualities are
viii PREFA CE.thus strikingly and naturally set forth which affect usmore by a characteristic delineation of them than longlectures on the vices and virtues, or the most elaborateanalysis of the passions and affections."Such, indeed, is its peculiar nature, that there are nonewho may not learn some useful lesson from an Apologue.The prince and the peasant, the wise and the foolish, therich and the poor may all be instructed by it. Thusthe very means which in days of old were often soeffectively used to rebuke the folly, or check the violenceof the multitude, were, as we learn from Holy Writ, notless successful in awakening the conscience of a greatKing.But it is in its habitual use by our Saviour (for Hisordinary method of teaching was essentially the same),that we have the highest testimony to its efficacy andpower. In the simple and beautiful form of parable,lessons were taught and duties inculcated in the waymost fitted to impress the intellect, and touch the heartas it was never touched before; while in no other waycould the censure with which it was so often necessary tovisit the sins and follies of mankind have been so deli-cately yet forcibly conveyed. Thus it was that assem-blages, which by plain and direct reproof would have
PREFA CE. ixeither been dispersed or else excited to a dangerousdegree, were induced to listen to counsel, and frequentlyto rebuke, which otherwise they would never haveendured.It is, however, needless to dilate on the value of amethod of instruction only less venerable for its anti-quity than for the sacred use to which it has been put.The common consent of mankind and the testimony ofages alike bear witness to its utility. Yet notwithstandingthis, it is impossible to deny that it has long ago lostmuch of its original influence. " Highly civilized com-munities," an able critic has remarked, "do not caremuch about Fables. From perpetual contact with thegross material world, their imaginative powers are soweakened, that they lack the simplicity of mind which isneeded for their appreciation." The truth of this isundeniable, for what speaker would now think of attempt-ing, much less of hoping, to move his audience by therecital of a Fable, however striking and apposite it mightbe. Yet we know that Demosthenes, the greatest oratorof antiquity, not only did not disdain their use, but, likeothers, occasionally employed them with the happiesteffect.But if no longer applicable to what seems to have been
x 'REFA CE.mainly its original purpose, Fable has still and ever willhave an extensive field of utility. Not now, indeed,capable of checking a serious revolt, as did the ConsulMenenius Agrippa's recital of the Belly and The Members,nor, one may say-except perhaps in some of those half-civilized countries where an almost patriarchal simplicityof life and manners still prevails-of having on the multi-tude any effect whatever; yet its popularity and influencewith the rising generation will probably never materiallywane. In truth, for children there is no means of teachinguseful moral lessons to be compared with it. Simple andamusing, a good Fable pleases the fancy, and impressesthe intellect, at an age when the mind is not more disin-clined to than unfitted for any higher style of instruction.This being the case, it is certainly singular, to say theleast, that so much should have been done by mostmodern Fabulists to lessen such usefulness as it stillpossesses. Instead of a short pithy Moral, and even that-so obvious is the Fable's intent-is often unnecessary,they have frequently burdened, and sometimes over-whelmed the story with a mass of commentary of a kindfar less likely to enlighten than to confuse the youthfulmind.Anxious to avoid any similar error, the Author of the
PRE FACE. xipresent Selection has invariably striven to make theMoral, when not interwoven with the Fable, which isoften the better way, as clear and sententious as possible;and, even where it is so united, has made it, he trusts,intelligible to the humblest capacity.All the Fables contained in this volume but the lastfive, which are original, are with hardly an exceptionadapted, with more or less freedom, from those commonlyaccepted as of zEsopian origin.Of ZEsop himself, the most justly celebrated of allFabulists, very little is positively known. There is, how-ever, sufficient authority for believing that he flourishedin the sixth century B. c., and that, though born in aservile condition, he so far made his way in the worldas to be greatly honoured by Croesus, King of Lydia,of whose court he and Solon were amongst the mosteminent members. But though his life appears to havebeen highly prosperous, his death was singularly tragical,for being sent by the King to Delphi to make a certainpayment to its citizens, he somehow incurred their dis-pleasure, and was in consequence cruelly, and it seemsmost unjustly, thrown from a precipice, and so perished.As to the style in which this work has been executed,a few remarks seem desirable.
xii PREFA CE.The Author is well aware that brevity is usually held tobe one of the distinguishing characteristics of a goodFable, as it certainly is of all attributed to IEsop, orframed on a.similar model. Judged by this standard, hemust needs admit that his Version has not many claimsto commendation. But he cannot refrain from sub-mitting in defence of his general prolixity-though theexample of Gay, La Fontaine, and other Fabulists lessknown to fame may well render any such apology super-fluous-that, however necessary an almost epigrammaticterseness may have been to the Fable's original purpose,such necessity no longer exists. Appealing in thesedays chiefly to children, we must remember that its prin-cipal object now is to instruct through the medium ofamusement. Such being the case, any variety andSornament-for which a poetical paraphrase offers pecu-liar facilities-that can be infused without obscuring thestory's meaning or materially impairing its force, mustgreatly subserve its aim. This, advisable in any work ofthis description, is especially so in one dealing withFables that have in so many forms been given to theworld, and to some versions of which, particularly thedeservedly popular one by Canon James, the Author mustacknowledge his obligation.
PREFACE. xiiiIn conclusion, he has only to express his just sense ofthe able manner in which Mr. Proctor has performedthe task entrusted to him. A book of this nature mustalways owe much to the style of its illustration, and itis incumbent therefore on the Author to state his con-viction that to the talent of the Artist, and the skill ofthe Engraver, any success it may meet with will be tono slight extent due.J. W. C.I
ERRATA.Page 148, line 9, fr " For" read " Thus."Page 164, line 13, strike out comma and inverted commas at "When."
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.PageIE Miser IThe Wolf and the Lamb 14The Lion and the Mouse 24The Fox and the Grapes 31King Log and King Stork. 38The Wolf and the Crane 48The Man and the Lion .. 55The Fox without a Tail 63The Dog in the Manger 74The Tortoise and the Eagle .. 83The Bundle of Sticks .. 92The Man and his Bull 102The Fox and the Goat oThe Oak and the Reeds 8The Vain Stag 127The Dog and the Shadow 136The Charger and the Ass 145The Cock and the Jewel 156The Fox and the Stork 163Hercules and the Waggoner .. .171The Hart and the Vine 79The Horse and the Stag 188The Ass in the Lion's Skin .. 197The Fox and the Goose 212
"I OLD I ELMISER once, a sordid elf,S Who had amass'd a heap of pelf,The sight of which gave him such joyHe would himself for hours employIn slowly counting o'er and o'erHis constantly increasing store,-B
2 THE MISER.At length began to feel such fearLest any who might of it hearShould try and rob him of a hoardHe little less than life adored,That, by it more and more opprest,All peace at last so fled his breast,He felt, save he some means could findWhich, soothing his distracted mind,The requisite relief might give,That he must shortly cease to live.So, for the peace of mind he sought,He over many a method thought;Until he finally resolved,As that which the least pain involved,Whenever he the chance should see,To sell off all his property,And turn the sum for which it soldInto a lump of solid gold.And so ere long the change was made,But, still most bitterly afraidLest he some day by force or stealthShould lose all his beloved wealth,
THE MISER.He scarce the lump of gold had got,Ere sought he some sequester'd spotWherein it might so hidden lieAs to elude the sharpest eye,And yet not be too far awayFor him to see it every day.Nor had he long for such to look,For in a neighboring copse a nook,Where many a shrub half hid the ground,He with but little trouble found;On which, he having neathh a treeDug for it a deep cavity,There did it, as he thought, so hide,As all discovery defied.Yet tho' this did in some respectHis mind's tranquillity effect,He felt it soon so very hardTo be so from its sight debarr'd,That scarce had a day gone beforeHe long'd to look on that once moreTo which, where'er he went, his soulTurn'd like the needle to the pole.
4 THE MISER.And so he to the cavern flew,And thence the golden ingot drew,Then took it fondly in his hand,And every part with rapture scann'd,Enjoying in its touch and sightA sense of such supreme delight,That from that hour not e'en the dreadLest, as news of his visits spread,Some prying neighbour might resolveTo once for all the mystery solve,-Could make him, till it thence was miss'd,A single day from them desist.Nor fanciful his fear; for, lo !One morning, to his bitter woe,He found, as he its covert sought,That all his care had come to naught,Since some one had described the hole,And thence his darling treasure stole,Nor left behind him any clueTo point the path he should pursue.On which, so dire was his despair,He wept, and raved, and tore his hair,
THE MISER.And shriek'd till with the woeful strainThe very welkin rang again.Ay, such was his excessive griefOn learning that, thro' some vile thief,All he had gain'd at such a costHad been, perhaps, for ever lost,That, as if there could nothing beSo bitter as his misery,It seem'd, to hear him rave and groan,That frenzy sat on reason's throne.At length, as half distraught he lay,A Traveller chanced to come that way,Who bade him, as he learnt the woeWhich made his tears so freely flow,Look at his loss with reason's eye,Nor longer so for nothing cry." For why," said he, " for that so weep,Which, had you been allowed to keep,The slightest good had never doneEither to you or any one.But if you needs must have a thingTo which your sordid soul may cling,
6 THE MISER.And whereon it all else aboveMay lavish its degraded love,Why take a stone and place it here,And watch it with as constant care,And it in time may haply beAs loved as your lost deity.For verily that lump of goldWhich of your heart had ta'en such hold,Had fill'd it with a love so blind,So mere a fancy of a mindAbsorb'd by avarice aloneTill miserably morbid grown,That one a loss like this can callBut little more than nominal.Nay, since your gold was never meantTo be on any account spent,Instead of being so much hurtAt having got but your desert,Rather rejoice that you are freeFrom what had never ceased to beA source of sad anxiety;Nay more, which led you, in effect,To so your soul's sore needs neglect,
THE MISER. 7That, had it not been ta'en away,It must have ruin'd you for aye." So then if you now see how vainIs the mere miser's greed of gain,How soon may all such joys take wingAs from mere love of money spring,I can no better counsel give,Than that, as long as you may live,You'll hence some nobler aim pursue,Let clIarity your soul imbue,And all that duty biddeth, do.Should, therefore, Providence once moreThe treasure you have lost restore,Or so your future efforts blessThat you again achieve success,I hope that you will then be sureTo give so freely to the poor,That not a few may to you oweSome little solace in their woe:In short, if you'd be happy, vow,So far as time and means allow,
8 THE MISER.To soothe the sick, the famish'd feed,And be to all a friend indeed."Do thus, and wealth will never beThe snare it long hath been to thee;Never that childish love induceWhich shrinks with horror from its use;But, neither hoarded nor misspent,Fulfilling so its true intent,May win you a far nobler nameThan many on the rolls of fame,A name which, when our common doomConsigns your ashes to the tomb,In note with some of those may vieThe world unwillingly lets die."
THE PEACOCK.NCE the Peacock, 'tis said, while conceivingin splendourHe all both on earth and in air so outshone,That his loveliness must as much envy engenderIn other birds' bosoms as pride in his own;Had yet so little sense of the bounty of HeavenAs e'en to think it had been to him unkind,In having so sorry a voice to him given,While he for the note of the Nightingale pined.And so his great patroness Juno addressing,He said, " Sweetest Goddess, O listen to me,And, the injury Nature hath done me redressing,Make mine what the voice of a beauty should be.
10 THE PEACOCK.0 if, feeling for my unhappy privation,Thou'lt me with the gift I so covet supply,There'll verily not be a bird in creationAt once so delighted and grateful as I."" 0 vain, charming Peacock!" said Juno, replying," Howe'er you to so witch the world may aspire,Is the hope that Heaven ever will think of complyingWith so fanciful, nay, such a silly desire.But why, my own darling, why all this repining,As if it had on you inflicted some wrong,All others in beauty already outshining,Must thou be, too, the Nightingale's equal in song?"" It is true," answered he, at himself the while glancing,"That my charms are unique, but what doth thatavail ?0 how gladly I'd part, for the power of entrancingThe whole world by my song, with my crest and my tail.Then but give me the voice for which I so beseech thee,In the place of my harsh and detestable scream,And I vow, as my life-long devotion shall teach thee,That my gratitude shall for the boon be supreme."
TIHE PEACOCK."As well wish to vie with the Eagle in wingingHis way thro' the air, or the Parrot in speech,As Philomel, sweetest of songsters, in singing,For Nature hath put the thing out of your reach.So pine not, my darling, for what is withholden,As if you'd so your fancied grievance redress,But, seeing how much you are to her beholden,Enjoy and be thankful for all you possess."Since there can be little worse folly than frettingAt the lack of those gifts we must sigh for in vain,Never thinking, while we're their denial regretting,How little we might after all by them gain.:He alone showeth sense who his efforts addresses,For repining will merely more sorrow ensure,To making the most of such as he possesses,Whence he haply may more than he thinketh secure.
THE JAR AND THE PAN.S in a flood one stormy mornA noble river ran,"There down it, side by side, were borneA Jar and brazen Pan.When said the Pan, "For you, my friend,'Tis fortunate indeed,That I can instant succour lend,If you should any need :"Tho', if you will but follow near,I'll so your course direct;You need not have the slightest fearOf being on it wreckt."
THE YAR AND THE PAN."While thanking you, it seems to me,"Answer'd the prudent Jar,"We scarce can from each other be,In such a storm, too far." For if we in collision came,As we might haply do,The fracture of my fragile frameMust instantly ensue."Never with one associateThe Prudent would avoid,For many to a hapless fateAre often so decoy'd., 7
THE WOLF AND THE LAMB.S a Wolf at a rillThat gush'd out of a hillOne morning his thirst was allaying,It so happened that heHad the rare luck to seeSome way down the stream a Lamb playing.And as he wasn't oneSuch a dainty to shun,
THE WOLF AND THE LAMB. 15He decided at once on her seizing;Thinking that, since the dayWhen he first tasted prey,He had never seen any so pleasing.Yet, altho' so resolved,He would fain be absolved(For to conscience he made some pretences)From the guilt of a deedWhich, except in sore need,He had said was the worst of offences.So, as have many menDone again and again,On temptation some passion awaking,He sought for an excuseFor the shameful abuseOf his power he was bent upon making.And to veil his offenceHe soon found a pretence;For there's hardly so heinous a measureBut for which one whose mindIs unto it inclinedMay find some plea or other at pleasure.
THE WOLF AND THE LAMB."So, young scamp," he began,As he down to her ran,"Pray, how dare you the water so muddle ?Why, I verily think,I would just as soon drinkOut of the very filthiest puddle."" Nay, good Sir," answered she," You, it seemeth to me,Are the victim of some strange illusion;For 'tis clear, since the rillRuns to me down the hill,Such a notion must be a delusion.""Well," said he, " have it so,But a year, say, agoYou malign'd me,-now, now, no disowning,And that time after time,Which is clearly a crimeFor which there's but one way of atoning.""That I must, Sir, deny,"Was her instant reply ;
THE WOLF AND THE LAMB. 7" The best proof of my innocence givingWhen I solemnly sayThat you mention a day"A long while ere I was even living."" Well then, if 'twas not you,'Twas some scoundrel you knew;"A near kinsman, if I'm not mistaken;Ah I recollect now,'Twas your father, I vow,And fresh wrath that may well in me waken." For while you, with some truth,In defence might plead youth,His was malice no mercy deserving;Still it seems best to me,Lest I him never see,His due punishment merely reserving," While I can in the bud,Ay, young imp, in your blood,So malicious a spirit to stifle;That, dismay'd by your fate,None, whatever their hate,May again with my character trifle."C
18 THE WOLF AND THE LAMB.Whereon he with a yellOn the innocent fell,Nor from his brutal violence desistedUntil, save a few bonesOn the blood-sprinkled stones,He left nothing to show she'd existed.Let the weak be awareThey can't take too much careAgainst into a tyrant's way going;Since, if on it but bent,He can ever inventSome pretence for his cruelty showing.
THE FOX AND THE BRAMBLE.FOX who'd been chased many a league,In dread of dying from fatigue,At last, to get some rest,Straight to a Bramble's shelter fled,A ruse which so the hounds misled,It baffled e'en the best.But hardly was he hidden thereThan, seemingly quite unawareHow much he to it owed,He on the bush, because his skinHad got a little scratched therein,Some sharp reproach bestow'd.
20 THE FOX AND .THE BRAMBLE.But it is to his credit due,To say that, as he calmer grew,And gave his reason rein,He felt that, since his life was safe,It ill became him so to chafeAt such a trifling pain.A sound reflection; for in griefThere's little giveth such reliefAs never to forget,However hard may seem one's fate,How many a fellow-sufferer's stateMay be more piteous yet.D., r
THE CONCEITED FROG.S an Ox in a meadow was grazing one morn,A whole parcel of Frogs gathered round,Who.annoy'd him so much by their croakingand scorn,That he bid them at once quit the ground.But, instead of so doing, they only the moreDid his deep indignation augment,By most saucily saying, they'd perish beforeThey would to his dictation assent."Then vile croakers," said he, " since ye dare be so rude,I'll not suffer such pests to survive."And, so saying, he trampled so o'er the whole broodThat but one left the meadow alive :
22 THE CONCEITED FROG.Who, on telling his mother, to whom he thence fled,Of the fate his poor brethren had met,"'Twas oh! mother, so mighty a monster," he said,"I shall never his image forget."" How big, pray," ask'd the old Frog, "how big did yousay?""As big as-," but she check'd his reply,As, dilating herself in a wonderful, way,She said, boastfully, "Bigger than I?"" Ay, indeed, mother, and so much too," he replied,"That your efforts are utterly vain,For you never could, how long soever you tried,To a tenth of his size e'en attain."But so great was her vanity that she averr'd,Sorely stung by his tone of contempt,She would never be from her intention deterr'd,And would yet triumph in her attempt.
THE CONCEITED FROG. 23Yet altho' he again and again interfered,She would listen to nothing he said;But so long in her fatuous aim persevered,That at last from the strain she dropt dead.Ah, Vanity! happy are such as can say,That they are of the fortunate fewWho, having allowed thee to lead them astray,Have had no cause their folly to rue.
THE LION AND THE MOUSE.B EEP in a wood, where many a weary bruteHad taken refuge from his foes' pursuit,When on the point of being brought to bay,A noble Lion in concealment lay,Hoping he might in undisturb'd reposeRecruit his spirits and forget his woes.But such was not to be, for scarce from sleepBegan he some slight benefit to reap,
THE LION AND THE MOUSE. 25Ere a too venturous Mouse his slumbers broke,And with an angry roar the brute awoke,And, seizing on him ere he thence could fly,At once condemn'd him for the deed to die.When, "Oh!" he cried, "take not my life away,Stain not your paws with such ignoble prey,But to my prayer, most mighty king, attend,And pardon one who will no more offend."On which; for he was one with whom indeedFew did for pity ever vainly plead,The monarch's wrath so melted at his woe,That with a slight rebuke he let him go.It happened, some while after that event,That, as the Lion thro' a forest went,In a dense grove, where many such were set,He got entangled in a hunter's net,Whereon he gave so terrible a roar,The welkin witness to his anguish bore.SBut he was not there long allowed to lie,For, happening to hear the captive's cry,And guessing readily what it implied,The Mouse at once to his assistance hied:
26 THE LION AND THE MOUSE.When instantly, for saw he at a glanceHow he'd alone of helping him a chance,He set himself, hard as it seem'd to do,To gnaw the fastening of the net in two.Nor, tho' it cost him many a weary hour,O'errated he his patience or his power,For the same day, as he had said should be,The knot was sever'd, and the prisoner free.A proof 'mongst many that a generous deedDoth, where least look'd for, often sow the seedWhence, when scant hopes the sinking heart sustain,We may of succour reap the precious grain,Ay, such as, when life ebbs at every breath,May haply snatch us from the jaws of death.,7^'ik'^vV wl -"
THE PILOT.WAS on a bleak and stormy nightThat, thro' dread Biscay's Bay,Dismasted by the tempest's might,A ship flew on her way;Ay, as the storm still louder roar'd,Soon rudderless so drave,-It seem'd that every soul on boardMust meet a watery grave..But even in that awful hourThere stood one above all,Whose heart not all the tempest's powerCould shake, much less appal:Yea, tho' each wave that o'er her brokeDid nigh the barque o'erwhelm,Still stood, like some defiant oak,The Pilot at the helm.
28 THE PIL T." And how," inquired one of the crew,So stricken with despairHe did with utter wonder viewThe dauntless sailor's air,"When the most sanguine needs must deemThat certain death is near,How is it, friend, you only seemQuite destitute of fear ?""'And what," the gallant Tar replied,"What's there to one dismayWho doth as I in Him confideWhom winds and waves obey?For such as strive to live like me,As ever in His eyeWho doth our every action see,Need little dread to die."LI I I
THE MAN AND HIS GOOSE.HERE of old lived a Man, so at least legendssay,Who was greatly to Fortune beholden,For he happened to have a Goose which used to lay,And that daily, an Egg that was Golden.And yet, so far was even so splendid a prizeFrom his covetous nature contenting,He gave way to a greed for more rapid suppliesWhich he soon never ceased from repenting.For at length, having let it quite master his mind,He thought he'd at once seize her whole treasure,So he cruelly kill'd the Goose,-only to findHe had ruin'd himself by the measure.
30 THE MAN AND HIS GOOSE.When those who have a fortune already so greatThat with half they might well be contented,Thro' avarice lose all, their most merited fateCan be verily little lamented.
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32 THE FOX AND THE GRAPES.And so, bent on a treat ere he went on his way,He at once at a luscious bunch sprung.But alas Fortune so sternly frown'd on the aimWhich their sweet, juicy look had inspired,That, tho' at every bound he the nearer them came,He, ere quite touching any, so tired,That, collecting his strength for a desperate spring,He made, saying the while, "now or never,"Only one attempt more thence a cluster to bring,And then, baffled, forsook them for ever.Yet 'tho, as it well might be, his spirit was soreAt so much trouble fruitlessly taking,He not only to show his vexation forbore,But resolved on the best of it making.So he strove, by assuming a nonchalant air,To delude himself into believing,That he verily didn't a jot for them care,But his heart there was .no so deceiving.
THE FOX AND THE GRAPES. 33"Nay," said he, " far from having the least right to fret,I to Fortune my thanks should redouble,Since 'tis clear, had she suffered me any to get,I had but lost my life for my trouble." Yea, I vow if yon vine even lay at my feetThat I none of its fruit would devour,For I can't conceive who in his senses would eatAny Grapes that seem'd- nearly so sour."When they who for a thing long sought after in vain,Profess scorn and aversion to feel,One may fairly assume, by their seeming disdain,They would fain their sore anguish conceal.- r..-
THE BOYS AND THE FROGS.OME Boys at play,One summer's day,Beside a streamlet straying,Happen'd to see,In harmless glee,A shoal of Frogs there playing.And with delightSaw they the sight,Ne'er giving, in their longingTo get some sport,One tender thoughtTo those who there were thronging.So at them fastThey pebbles cast,
THE BOYS AND TIE FROGS. 35Till, of the many livingWho there had been,But few were seenA sign of life now giving.Yet did they still,With deadly skill,Continue the sad slaughter,Till one arose,And thus his foesAppeal'd to from the water:"In pity pray,Your hands, Boys, stay,For mercy's sake reflecting,That what you do,Tho' play to you,Is us to death subjecting."
THE SAVAGE DOG.FARMER once a Dog possestSo fierce that none could tame him,And so resolved to do his best,If possible, to shame him.Now, therefore, he a clog and chainO'er Nero's neck suspended,But look'd day after day in vainFor the effect intended.Since, wearing such, the market-placeHe now was ever haunting,Indifferent to the disgraceHe was in all eyes flaunting.
THE SAVAGE DOG. 37Nay, quite insensible to shame,He grew e'en more presuming,When now amongst his kin he came,Such haughty airs assuming,That, hoping a rebuke might tendTo such false pride's extinction,One said to him, " Why proud, my friend,Of such a base distinction ?"If I were you, till from it free,I should seek some seclusion;For to an honour in it seeIndeed's a strange delusion."Did men reflect how many a nameDoth scant esteem awaken,We Notoriety for FameShould not see so mistaken.^Qjl
KING LOG AND KING STORK.* NCE some Frogs in a lake,For mere levity's sake,Sadly prone out of trifles to grievances make,Were wont early and lateTo bewail their hard fate,Tho' they never were in such a prosperous state.But as none of them knewWhence their misery grew,Nor could tell indeed what woes they had to subdue,
KING LOG AND KING STORKA 39'Tisn't hard to believeThey were slow to perceiveHow such strangely invisible ills to relieve.At length, "Let us," said one,"Ere to ruin we run,Have a King as befits a race second to none:"Which all did at once greetAs with wisdom replete,So flattering was it to their self-conceit.When, however, they cameTo a Monarch proclaim,Such ambition did many amongst them inflame,That ere long civil strifeGrew so terribly rifeAs to frequently threaten the national life.Nor did it ever cease,But the rather increase,Till one said, seeing else little prospect of peace," I, my brethren, suggest,We from Jove one request:"A proposal accepted with joy by the rest.
40 KING LOG AND KING STORK.But when Jove heard their prayer,He said, "Well, I declare,Did one ever before of such impudence hear ?"Yielding, however, at last,He a Log to them cast,As a King who in fitness could not be surpast.Upon which the whole lotAt once fled from the spot,But, on seeing what kind of a Prince they had got,Ceasing e'en to affectAny sort of respect,They soon treated him with something more than neglect.For, "What! this for a King,This inanimate thing,"All exclaim'd as they did round about the Log cling:" 0 great Jove, again weMust needs cry unto theeFor one who can of some little use at least be."On which answering, "Vain crew,Ye your folly shall rue,Since your silly petition ye dare to renew,"
KING LOG 'AND KING STORK. 41SHe a Stork to them sent,Than which they no eventIn their annals had such bitter cause to lament.For the very next day,To their utter dismay,He did a most malevolent spirit display:At mere appetite's call,At once swallowing allWho but happened in his cruel clutches to fall.When, " Jupiter oh,"The rest cried in deep woe," One pitying glance on our misery bestow;And in mercy restoreOur old Monarch once more,And destroy this detestable wretch, we implore !"But Jove only replied,"Ye your woe must abide,As the penalty due to your folly and pride:For ye ought to have known,What your fate hath well shown,That the best way is ever to let well alone."
THE DIAMOND AND THE LOADSTONE.MID a heap, where many a stoneOf wondrous worth and lustre shone,A splendid Diamond chanced to lie,A paragon of brilliancy.Near which it happened that one dayA sombre-looking Loadstone lay,Whose shape and hue, so poor and plain,Thus stirr'd the haughty gem's disdain."You vulgar, coarse, and clumsy thing,Pray say what did you hither bring?Since you are only fit to beAmong plebeian company."
THE DIAMOND AND THE LOADSTONE. 43When,.tho' the Diamond's scornful mienMight have excused no little spleen,The Loadstone, but with proper pride,To his pert censor thus replied:" Altho' I can, my captious friend,To little comeliness pretend,I yet, despite thy charms, inclineTo think my worth excelleth thine."Nay, more; save for the subtile spellThat doth so in thy beauty dwell,Man had, if my conjecture's right,Scarce cared to bring thee to the light."While of such signal use am IThat nothing can my place supply;For who would, but for faith in me,Launch e'en a shallop on the sea?" Well may I say, then, there are noneCan estimate how much I've doneIn one community to bindBy ties of traffic all mankind.
44 THE DIAMOND AND THE LOADSTONE."And far might I pursue the theme,Did I it worth my trouble deem,Or any courtesy were dueTo such a slanderer as you." For you such calumnies should knowBoth folly and ill-temper show:Since fools alone true worth traduce,And ornament prefer to use.'
THE RAVEN AND THE PITCHER.THIRSTY Raven from afarSeeing at a well's side a Jar,Instantly to it flew;But, tho' he to his utmost strained,So nearly dry had it been drain'd,Thence scant refreshment drew.And soon the water sank belowHis farthest reach, so that to goStill parch'd with thirst away,Seem'd now to be his only course,But, ever fertile in resource,He chose instead to stay,And see if he could not deviseSome means to make the water rise,Resolving to remain
46 THE RA VEN AND THE PITCHER.As long as there seem'd any scopeFor the indulgence of a hopeThat he might any gain.Yet first to break the Jar he sought;And since he so effected nought,However much he tried,To overturn it then essay'd,But, tho' he many an effort made,That, too, his strength defied.When, just as he ceased so to try,Seeing a heap of pebbles nigh,It struck him that to dropA number in the Jar might beThe means of raising easilyThe water to the top.On which deciding so to do,He one by one dropt in a few,And soon with glistening eyesHe saw the water, which in vainHe long had striven to obtain,Each moment higher rise.
THE RA VEN AND THE PITCHER. 47At length it reached the Pitcher's brim,When, perching proudly on its rim,He there triumphant quafft,Feeling in his complete successA rapture he could scarce express;"A deep, delicious draught.Thus, by his patience, toil, and skill,Did he at last his aim fulfil,A proof beyond contention,That none can ever claim to beSo truly as Necessity,The Mother of Invention.
THE WOLF AND THE CRANE.S a ravenous Wolf was once gorging his prey,A sharp bone which he happened to swallowIn his throat got stuck in such a dangerous way,That death seem'd not unlikely to follow.When so tortured was he by the pain in his jaw,That he wander'd about deeply groaning,
THE WOLF AND THE CRANE. 49Till by chance he a small group of animals saw,Unto whom he ran bitterly moafing."Oh! let some one," gasp'd he, "by extracting this bone,Heal the wound whence my life-blood is welling,And my gratitude shall for the service be shownIn a way my deep sense of it telling."But, tho' no little pity was felt for his pangs,Not the least succour did any proffer;For the boldest, on getting a glance at his fangs,Shrank from running the risk of an offer.Just, however, as he was on the brink of despair,An old Crane, who chanced by to be flying,Happening of his peril and promise to hear,Soon resolved to relieve him on trying.And so skilfully did she her long bill employ,That she speedily did the bone sever,Thus enabling the Wolf, to his infinite joy,To soon swallow as freely as ever.E
50 THE WOLF AND THE CRANE.But tho' few could have promised more grateful to beWhile his life in the.balance still trembled,She whose aid had preserved it was soon forced to seeHow the ingrate had with her dissembled.Since as soon as she did for that recompense sueWhich was wholly beyond her espial,He not only denied that aught was to her due,But took credit e'en for self-denial." For," said he, " I can scarce say how angry I feelAt your o'er such a trifle so fretting,And, when I might have made of you such a nice meal,At no thanks for my lenity getting."So then, if into trouble you'd not yourself bring,Venture not my just anger on braving;For I warn you that, should you delay taking wing,Little chance have you of your life saving."They who, but for the hope of some personal gain,Ne'er dream of help to any affording,Have, it must be allowed, little right to complainAt jeers only their efforts rewarding.
THE FOX AND THE MASK.FOX one day,In search of prey,To a theatre took his way;But sought in vainTo thence obtainAught to allay his hunger's pain.For tho' a lookIn every nookHe gave ere he the place forsook,He little found,Save on the groundSome Masks and lumber strewn around.Among which wereA few so fair,He said, " O heads of beauty rare,
52 THE FOX AND THE MASK.Sad's it to seeThat such as ye,So elegant, should brainless be !"Altho' to graceOf form or face,Some may much of their fortune trace,Yet shall we find,Throughout mankind,That in life's race, all yields to mind.1 ,- ^
THE HARES AND THE FROGS.NCE on a time, a lot of HaresWere by their many woes and caresSo bitterly distrest,That few had any wish to live,Death seeming to nigh all to giveThe only hope of rest.In vain did some, by pity ledTo try and dissipate such dread,Strive promptly so to do,Since, as there seem'd no sort of cureFor much that they had to endure,It only stronger grew.At length, quite hopeless of a change,It several did so derange
54 THE HARES AND THE FROGS.That, in their deep despair,Rather than suffer more from man,One day they to a streamlet ran,Intent on dying there.But, when they at its bank arrived,An old Hare happily contrivedThe panic to allayBy pointing to a shoal of FrogsThat, startled from some neighboring bogs,Hopp'd hastily away." See those poor little things," said he," Who thus from us so frightened flee;Nor fancy you aloneStiffer misfortunes; but believeThat many have a cause to grieveFar greater than your own.""?^~-
THE MAN AND THE LION.T happened, as along a roadA Lion and his Master strode," That, strange to say, their converse ranUpon the attributes of man ;
56 THE MANEspecially on bravery,Anent which the brute dared denyThat men were, like himself, induedEither with strength or fortitude.On this, his Master instantlyLook'd on him with an angry eye,Resolved that he at least should knowThat Man was no such puny foe.But ere he could assert his mightA group of sculpture met his sight,Which, thinking to excite his awe,He ask'd the Lion if.he saw;And, checking the impending stroke,Thus haughtily unto him spoke :" If proof you of our power require,Behold it to your heart's desire.See'st thou in yonder marble shownOne of thy race by Man o'erthrown,E'en forced his very life to craveOf him whom he had dared to brave.""I see such there," the brute replied;"But think not thus to tame my pride,
AND THE LION. 57For he who the group yonder made,Remember, what he chose displayed.But were we sculptors, then, may be,Thou should'st another version see,And many a memorial viewOf victories won over you."Since disputants so seldom dreamIn the discussion of a themeOf, save it seems their end to serve,Telling the truth without reserve;He who would fain secure a clueTo guide his judgment 'tween the two,Must to the simple rule adhere,Of giving an attentive earTo all that's said on either side,And then, and not till then, decide.
THE FARMER AND HIS SONS.FARMER, at the point of death,His Sons around him drew,To bid them, with his dying breath,That course thro' life pursueOn which alone they could dependThat Heaven's blessing would descend."If God," said he, " your toil so blessThat it doth riches bring,Deem not that you in wealth possessOf every joy the spring;Lest, thinking so, you find in needYou've trusted to a broken reed." But let it rather be your care,As it hath been my aim,
THE FARMER AND HIS SONS.In everything you do, to bearThro' life an honest name;That you may to your children leaveWhat each of you from me receive."Tho' little it may seem to be,I leave some wealth behind,Which you, by seeking carefully,May in my vineyard find."Such his last words, for death's eclipseFell on him as they left his lips.When, thinking he some treasure meant,And thirsting for the spoil,All shortly to the vineyard went,Resolved therein to toilUntil they the expected prizeHad set before their longing eyes.Yet tho' they o'er and o'er againDug every spot of ground,Their labour seem'd to be in vain,For nothing there was found :
60 THE FARMER AND HIS SONS.Nor were they yet for many-a dayTo see what should their toil repay.But with the Autumn of the yearThe secret was revealed,For the vines, strengthened by their care,Did then such vintage yield,The dullest could not fail to seeThe treasure meant was Industry.
THE TRAVELLERS AND THE PLANE-TREE.WAS on a sultry summer's day,That, seeking shade in vain,Two Travellers pursued their wayAlong an arid plain.Nor, till so utterly distrestThat they could scarce proceed,Got they the shelter and the restOf which they stood in need.For not till where a Plane-tree grewThey faint and footsore stray'dHad they but the most distant viewOf any sort of shade.
62 7 HE TRAVELLERS AND PLANE TREE.Yet, after they'd awhile there lain,One to the other said:" How useless an old tree's this PlaneWhose branches o'er us spread!""Ungrateful man !" replied the Tree," Is this the way you showThe thankfulness that's due to me,To whom your life you owe ?" For, had you in your need not foundThe screen my leaves supply,You must, exhausted, on the groundHave soon lain down to die."Nothing with thanklessness imbuedShould be as truth received,Since none devoid of gratitudeDeserve to be believed.
THE FOX WITHOUT A TAIL.S once a Fox, in quest of food,Was wandering about a wood,A trap his tail so caught,The luckless brute saw in a triceThat only by its sacrificeCould liberty be bought.So seeing, if he'd not soon die,How perilous it were to lie
64 THE FOXMuch longer there confined,Determin'd to delay no more,He from the trap his body tore,And left his tail behind.But on his coming to reflectOn all the taunts he might expectAt his distressing state,He did its loss so much regret,He almost wish'd he death had met,Instead of such a fate.So, after pondering awhileHow he might best avert the smileHe trembled to evoke,He hit upon a novel plan,And, forthwith summoning his clan,Thus to his brethren spoke:"It oft, my friends, has seem'd to meA singular fatuityIn our sagacious raceTo wear such tails as must impede,And that without the slightest need,So vitally our pace.
WITHOUT A TAIL. 65"Yet did they, however slight their use,To any's benefit conduce,The evil might be borne,But, valueless in every way,It verily is hard to sayWhy they are ever worn."And so I counsel every oneTo do as you see I have done;For, since I mine tore off,I have enjoy'd myself so much,I well can bear the jeers of suchAs please at me to scoff."In truth, in ease unknown before,And speed I never had of yore,So great hath been my gain,That, if you're to their worth awake,I shall not, such a step to take,Appeal to you in vain.""Your sense, my friend, may be contest,"One, 'mid, the titters of the rest,Then to him slily said,F
66 THE FOX WITHOUT A TAIL."For, if one must between them choose,I wonder who'd his tail not loseIn preference to his head?" Yea, we so far with you agree,That some are sure, it seems to me,To do as you desire,Tho' not till threatened by a fateWhich doth, as did your hapless state,The sacrifice require."For, much as we in taste may err,Our fathers' fashion we prefer;Since you've no reason shownWhy we should, as you'd have us do,Suffer so sad a loss, that youMay neathh it hide your own."Did all determine as a ruleTo-since scamps thus so many fool--Distrust officious zeal,How few knaves then could from our eyes,However subtle its disguise,Their perfidy conceal!
THE ONE-EYED DOE.DOE with but a single eye,. Whose habit was to grazeAt the seaside, so steadilyWas landward wont to gaze;That, fearing thence no foe's advance,She seldom gave the sea a glance.Yet 'twas whence she seem'd out of reachThat got she her death-blow;For, stealing on her from the beach,A hunter bent his bow,And shot, alas with aim so true,His shaft her very life-blood drew."Now see I," did she, dying, groan,"How great a fault was mine,
68 THE ONE-EYED DOE.When I did to the land aloneMy vigilance confine;And this the sad, the fatal wayIn which I for my folly pay !"Since many of our troubles springWhence we such least expect,They who'd escape much sufferingNo safeguard must neglect,But make it their continual careTo againstt all possible prepare.
THE BELLY AND THE MEMBERS.NCE on a time arose a feudBetween the Belly and the Members,Which even now's not so subdued .But we may see thereof such embersAs show, before to due supportHis claim could be by none resisted,How stern a fight must have been fought,What bitter enmity existed.'Tis said the Members, much annoy'dAt the luxurious existenceThe Belly thro' their care enjoy'd,While he seem'd to give none assistance,At length, to share their drudgery,Presented to him a petition,For they could nevermore agreeTo serve him save on that condition.
70 THE BELL YBut when, to their intense chagrin,He gave it not the least attention,Such fuel did his haughty mienAdd to the singular dissension,They vow'd, that till he should repent,And make.amends for his offences,To such an attitude presentAs needs must bring him to his senses.And so the Hands at once proposed,That, having at their cost so thriven,So long as he their rights opposed,No nurture should be to him given:But that he for himself should shift;"We," said they, " without hesitationVowing we'll not a finger liftTo save him even from starvation."The Teeth, in language as severe,Against his selfishness protested,Entreating all to persevereSo strictly in the course suggested,
ANrD THE MEMBERS. 71That, bitter as might be his needWho once their services commanded,None should his cry for succour heed"Till he did all that they demanded.The Tongue then for the rest replied:" We thoroughly approve the measure;For, since we for his wants provide,We surely ought to share his pleasure:So then, of what is right and fairQuite sick of to his sense appealing,We bid the selfish drone prepareFor marks of our just anger feeling."And so, delighted at the thoughtThat now an era was beginningWhen all the sustenance he soughtHe must at least assist in winning,They enter'd on their novel plan;But, before many days were over,All, to their great surprise, beganSome strange sensations to discover.
72 THE BELLYThe Eyes, so brilliant once, grew dim;Vague fancies in the Brain assembled;While, sadly suffering, every Limb,As stricken with the palsy, trembled.Thus, by the self-same measure met,The health of all was so much shaken,That sorely did they now regretThat they so rash a step had taken.Yet, obstinate as ever still,None were by their distress persuadedTo show their penitence, untilSuch lassitude the whole pervaded,That every Member of a frameThe model once of manly beauty,As was but natural, becameAlmost unfit to do its duty.When said the Belly:: "Fools are yeNot to have long ago reflectedThat any service due to meMust at your peril be neglected.
AND THE ALEMBEIS. 73Yet have ye not rebell'd in vainIf, as I hope, is now seen clearlyThat, tho' you may give me much pain,Ye suffer even more severely."But all your folly I forgive,So satisfied am I by showingThat, if I by your labour live,Your life to me's as surely owing.So let our silly quarrel end,And henceforth let us all endeavour,Seeing what ills on strife attend,To live in harmony foreverr"And so in life, such is the tieThat knits Society together,No class can others' use deny,Or safely rend the social tether.For, however difference of degreeMay sunder us from one another,All, while the world exists, must beDeeply dependent on each other.
THE DOG IN THE MANGER.DOG having found to a Manger his way,Awhile lay there enjoying a doze;For never before 'mid such sweet-smelling hayHad it been his delight to repose.And there he might happily still long have lain,Had he not himself one of those shownWho selfishly treat others' rights with disdain,Just as if they had any alone.
THE DOG IN THE MANGER. 75For scarce had some Horses come thither to feed,Ere they met a most surly salute;Nor ceased he to growl till disgust at his greedAt last led one to oust the vile brute.Scarce any will take of the selfish the part,Howsoever mankind may them serve;For selfishness showeth a hardness of heartSuch as doth little pity deserve.
THE FISHES.FISHERMAN who'd been of lateIn a most melancholy state,Since, tho' his industry was great,He scarce a crust could earn,Was now to see, as many doWho, to success's secret true,But steadily their aim pursue,The tide of trouble turn.For scarce had he one morn set sail,So destined, as he thought, to fail,His trip could only toil entailAs fruitless as before,Ere did he a success achieve,Which did his fortunes so retrieveAs to him little reason leaveTo murmur any more.
THE FISHES. 77Since, as in answer to the prayerIn which, in accents of despair,His cry, for pity's sake, to hear,He all the Gods besought,Scarce cast he in the sea his net,Ere took he of Fish such a setAs none, he fondly fancied, yetAt once had ever caught.But wonderful as was his gain,It soon was to him sadly plain,That he had many more now ta'enThan he had power to keep;For, tho' he all the larger shipp'd,No few thro' his net's meshes slipp'd,And so again delighted dipp'dInto their native deep.Oh! why should multitudes so scornTheir humble lot as much to mournThey were not to a higher born,When the least thought will show
78 THE FISHES.That one which they can scarce endure,Because so lowly and obscure,Doth them from many ills secureWhich those they envy know.(!~
THE LAMB AND THE WOLF.S a Wolf, seeking prey, was once straying,As he long had been, round a sheepfold,His lank limbs and wan features betrayingHow severely want had on him told,"Ah," said he, as he saw a Lamb tryingTo steal from it, and so slip away,"Dearly shalt thou, sweet thing, for so sighingFor liberty pay !"On which, " Sir," said the Lamb, to him speaking," Tell me what brings you here, I entreat ?"" O my love," answered he, " I'm but seekingFor some succulent herbage to eat;Since for food I ask but what earth giveth,As I drink only from the pure rill;For I'd starve ere I'd any that livethFor sustenance kill."
80 THE LAMB" Why," rejoin'd she, "you quite, Sir, surprise me,For I'm sure that, in my parents' view,There, to judge by the way they advise me,Are none half so bloodthirsty as you.'Twas indeed my idea till this hour,That there never was one of my kinWho e'er safely got out of your power,If once fully in.""I regret, as I should unto any,To say aught which your feelings may hurt;But alas I am slander'd by many,Who dare not to my face so assert.Then, believe me, 'twas only to spite youThey object to your taking a trip,And so, as a true friend, I invite youTo give them the slip."Yet allowing e'en their good intention,Still 'tis time you should tutelage spurn,And, despite such attempts at prevention,Of the world and its ways something learn;
AND .THE WOLF.So decline not my services' proffer,And I'll of it so much to you show,You'll be sorry you had no such offerA good while ago."" Your proposal's so very seductive,That you sorely, Sir, tempt me to stray,For no doubt it would be as instructiveAs delightful, to do as you say;But my mother-oh were I to leave her,And that too without saying good-bye,My desertion, I'm sure, would so grieve her,I fear she would die." And then,"-but here his suavity dropping,The Wolf said, " I can no more time waste;As it is, I've been far too long stopping,And so, if you are coming, make haste."When, lest this might be the sole occasionOf its kind in her life's little span,She succumb'd to his subtle persuasion,And out to him ran.G
82 THE LAMB AND THE WOLF.Whereon, deaf to appeals to that honourIn which she had been so led to trust,He at once fell so fiercely upon her,That her heart's blood soon sprinkled the dust.A fate that is indeed full of warning,Never ear to a tempter to lend,Lest like her, thro' obedience scorning,One meet sbme sad end.
THE TORTOISE AND THE EAGLE.LAS! how sad a lot is mine!"S An envious Tortoise cried," Oh did I, deck'd in feathers fine,But like the lovely Sun-bird shine,How infinite my pride!"Yet for his plumage tho' in vainFate forceth me to sigh,It doth me not to earth so chainBut that, if on high only ta'en,I could as swiftly fly."