The Fables of Æsop, and Others With Designs on Wood
Part 15
We ought never to put trust in the fair words and pretensions of those who have both an interest and inclination to ruin us; and where we find foul play thus intended against us, it is not in the nature of things to expect that we should not, if we can, turn the tables upon the plotters. Treachery has something so wicked and worthy of punishment in its nature, that it deserves to meet with a return of its own kind. An open revenge is too liberal for it, and nothing matches it but itself. Though a man of sense and honour will always view tricking and fraud of all kinds as mean and beneath him, and will despise setting such an example, yet it cannot be inconsistent with virtue to counteract the schemes of those who are taking all manner of undue advantages, and hatching wicked plots to undermine us.
THE FOX IN THE WELL.
A Fox having fallen into a well, made a shift, by sticking his claws into the sides, to keep his head above water. Soon after, a Wolf came and peeped over the brink, to whom the Fox applied, and very earnestly implored his assistance to help him out, or he should be lost. Ah! poor Reynard, says he, I pity your misfortune; poor creature, I am sorry for you with all my heart: how did you happen to slip into this well? pray how long have you been in this melancholy situation? Nay, I prithee friend, replies the Fox, if you wish me well, do not stand pitying me, but lend me some succour as soon as you can; for pity is but cold comfort when one is up to the chin in water, and within a hair’s breadth of starving or drowning.
APPLICATION.
If we would really manifest our sorrow for the sufferings of another, let our pity be shewn by our friendly endeavours to relieve him; for indeed pity of itself is but poor comfort at any time, unless it produces something more substantial. If we cannot do this, let us not offend the sensibility, and add to the anguish of a delicate mind, by empty professions and unmeaning compassion. For, to stand bemoaning the misfortunes of our friends, without offering some expedient to alleviate them, is only echoing their grief, and putting them in mind that they are miserable. He is truly my friend, who with a ready presence of mind supports me; not he who merely condoles with me upon my ill success, and expresses his sorrow for my mishap.
THE GARDENER AND HIS DOG.
A Gardener’s Dog happened by some mischance to fall into the well: his Master ran immediately to his assistance; but when helping him out, the surly brute bit his hand. The Gardener took this ungrateful treatment so ill, that he shook him off, and left him to shift for himself. Thou wicked wretch! said he, to injure the hand that was stretched forth to save thy life! The hand of thy Master, who has hitherto fed and taken care of thee! Die there as thou deservest; for so base and unnatural a creature is not fit to live.
APPLICATION.
When a man has suffered his mind to become so debased as to be capable to doing injuries to him who has showered benefits on his head, he can scarcely be treated with too much severity. He deserves at least to be scouted as an outcast to society. All the favours that are bestowed upon men of this worthless disposition, are thrown away; for the envy and malevolence of the ingrate, work him up into a hatred of his benefactor. Generous men should therefore use a just circumspection in the choice of the objects of their benevolence, before they give way to the feelings of the heart, or waste its bountiful overflowings upon those who, instead of making a grateful return, will bite them like a drowning but spiteful dog. The Fable is also intended as an admonition to servants, who owe an especial duty to their masters; whose kindness should be met by their faithful exertions to serve them; and whose interest they ever ought to make their own.
THE DEER AND THE LION.
A Deer, terrified by the cry of the Hunters, instead of trusting to his fleetness, made towards a cave which he chanced to espy, and in which he hoped to conceal himself until they were passed by; but he had scarcely reached the entrance before he was seized by a Lion who lay crouching there, ready to spring upon his prey, and who instantly killed and tore him to pieces. In the last agonies of death, he thus gave vent to his feelings: Ah, me! said he, unhappy creature that I am. I hoped in this cave to escape the pursuit of men; but have fallen into the jaws of the most cruel and rapacious of wild beasts.
APPLICATION.
This Fable points out the dangers to which we expose ourselves, when, for want of presence of mind, we suffer ourselves to be guided by our unreasoning fears, which no sooner shew us an evil, than they throw us into the utmost confusion in our manner of escaping, and prevent us from discerning the safe path by which we ought to avoid it. Thus, in a rash endeavour to shun a less danger, we oftentimes blindly run headlong into a greater. The fate of the Deer should warn us to consider well what may be the ultimate consequences, before we take any important step; for many paths which appear smooth and pleasant at a distance, are found to be rough and dangerous, when we come to tread them; and many a plausible scheme, which promises us ease and safety, is no better than a tempting bower, with a Lion crouching among its foliage, ready to spring upon and devour us.
THE PLOUGHMAN AND FORTUNE.
As a Ploughman was turning up the soil, his plough uncovered a treasure which had been hidden there. Transported with joy, he seized upon it, and fervently began to thank the ground for being so liberal to him. Fortune passing by, observed what he was about, and could not forbear shewing her resentment at it. You stupid creature, said she, to lie thus thanking the ground, and take no notice of me! If you had lost such a treasure, instead of finding one, I should have been the first you would have laid the blame upon.
APPLICATION.
How often do we ascribe our success or misfortunes to wrong causes! Vanity sometimes leads us to consider our prosperity as the natural result of our own sagacity, and inattention sometimes induces us to make acknowledgments to wrong persons. But if we would have our praises valued, we should be cautious to direct them properly. Our thanks are an indirect affront to those who receive them without deserving them; and at the same time an act of open ingratitude to those who merit them without receiving them. In prosperity, as well as in adversity, let us not forget the power and goodness of Heaven; and if we implore the aid of the Almighty in our distress, we should not neglect to send up our acknowledgments of his goodness with the voice of gratitude.
THE APE AND THE FOX.
An Ape meeting with a Fox, humbly requested he would be so good as to give him some of the superfluous hair from his bushy tail, to make into a covering for his bare posteriors, which were exposed to all the inclemency of the weather; and he endeavoured to further his suit by observing to Reynard, that he had far more than he had any occasion for, and a great part even dragged along in the dirt. The Fox answered, that as to his having too much, it was more than he knew; but be it as it would, he had rather sweep the ground with his tail as long as he lived, than part with the least bit of it for a covering to the filthy posteriors of an Ape.
APPLICATION.
Riches, in the hands of a wise and generous man, are a blessing to the community in which he lives: they are like the light and the rain, and diffuse a good all around them. But wealth, when it falls to the lot of those who want benevolence and humanity, serves only as an instrument of mischief, or at best produces no advantage to the rest of mankind. The good man considers himself as a kind of steward to those from whom fortune has withheld her smiles, and thus shews his gratitude to Heaven for the abundance which has been showered down upon him. He directs the superfluous part of his wealth at least, to the necessities of such of his fellow-creatures as are worthy of it, and this he would do from feeling, though there were no religion which enjoined it. But selfish avaricious persons, who are generally knaves, how much soever they may have, will never think they have enough, much less be induced, by any consideration of virtue or religion, to part with any portion for the purposes of charity and beneficence. If the riches and power of the world were to be always in the hands of the virtuous part of mankind, it would seem, according to our human conceptions, that they would produce more good than in those of the vile and grovelling mortals, who often possess them. Without any merit, these move apparently in a sphere of ease and splendour, while good sense and honesty have to struggle in adversity, or walk in the dirt. But the all-wise Disposer of Events does certainly permit this order of things for just, good, and wise purposes, though our shallow understandings are not able to fathom them.
THE THIEF AND THE BOY.
An arch mischievous Boy, sitting by the side of a well, observed a noted Thief coming towards him. The little dissembler, wiping his eyes, affected to be in great distress. The Thief asking him what was the matter? ah! says the Boy, I shall be severely flogged, for in attempting to get some water, I have dropped the silver tankard into the well. Upon this the Thief, eager for a prize, stripped off his cloaths, and went down to the bottom to search for it; where having groped about to no purpose, he came up again, but found neither the Boy nor the cloaths, the little wag having run off with and hidden them, and left the Thief to look for the tankard at his leisure.
APPLICATION.
Nothing gives more entertainment to honest men than to see rogues and sharpers tricked and punished in the pursuit of their schemes of villainy, by making their own contrivances instrumental in bringing down their wickedness upon their own heads. In these instances, Justice seems as it were to be acting in person, and saves the trouble of publicly enforcing punishment by the penal laws; but indeed vice carries with it its own punishment, and the misery attendant upon it in this world, seems always pretty exactly balanced to its various degrees of enormity. The abandoned man drags on a contemptible or infamous life, with a constantly deadened or disturbed conscience, and amidst associates like himself, where he can never hope to meet with either friendship or fidelity.
THE FOX AND THE SICK LION.
It was reported that the Lion was sick, and the beasts were given to understand that they could not make their court better than by going to visit him. Upon this they generally went; but it was particularly taken notice of, that the Fox was not one of the number. The Lion therefore dispatched one of his Jackalls to enquire why he had so little charity and respect as never to come near him, at a time when he lay so dangerously ill, and every body else had been to see him? Why, replies the Fox, pray present my duty to his majesty, and tell him that I have the same respect for him as ever, and have been coming several times, but was fearful of being troublesome, as I have observed, from the prints of their footsteps, that great numbers have gone into the royal den; but I have not seen a single trace of their coming out again.
APPLICATION.
He that embarks implicitly in any scheme, may be mistaken, notwithstanding the number who keep him company; but he that keeps out till he sees reason to enter, acts upon true maxims of policy; and it is the quintessence of prudence not to be too easy of belief: for a rash and hasty credulity has been the ruin of many. Men who habituate themselves to think, will profit by the experience of others, as well as their own: but commonly the multitude do not reason, but stupidly follow each other step by step; not moving out of the sphere in which chance has placed them: and the notions or prejudices they may have imbibed in youth, remain with them to the last. There is no opinion, however impious or absurd, that has not its advocates in some quarter of the world. Whoever, therefore, takes up his creed upon trust, and grounds his principles on no better reason than his being a native or inhabitant of the regions wherein they prevail, becomes a disciple of Mahomet in Turkey, and of Confucius in China; a Jew, or a Pagan, as the accident of birth decides.
THE SUN AND THE WIND.
A dispute arose between the North Wind and the Sun, about the superiority of their power, and they agreed to determine matters by trying which of them could first compel a Traveller to throw off his cloak. The North Wind began, and blew a very cold blast, accompanied by a sharp driving shower; but this, and whatever else he could do, instead of making the Man quit his cloak, induced him to gird it about him more closely. Next came the Sun, who, breaking out from a cloud, drove away the cold vapours, and darted his warm sultry beams upon the weather-beaten Traveller. The Man growing faint with the heat, first threw off his heavy cloak, and then flew for protection to the shade of a neighbouring grove.
APPLICATION.
There is something in the temper of man so averse to severe and boisterous treatment, that he who endeavours to carry his point in that way, instead of prevailing, generally leaves the mind of him whom he has thus attempted to subdue, in a more confirmed and obstinate state. Bitter words and hard usage freeze the heart into an obduracy, which mild, persuasive, and gentle language only can dissolve. Persecution has always fixed those opinions which it was intended to dispel; and the quick growth of christianity in early times, is attributed in a great measure to the barbarous reception which its first teachers met with in the Pagan world; and since that time the different modes of faith which have grown out of christianity itself, have been each established by the same kind of intolerant spirit. To reflect upon these things, furnishes matter of wonder and regret, for the benevolent Author of the christian religion taught neither intolerance nor persecution. The doctrines he laid down are plain, pure, and simple. They teach mercy to the contrite, aid to the humble, and eternal happiness to the good. In short, persecution is the scandal of all religion, and like the north wind in the Fable, only tends to make a man wrap his notions more closely about him.
THE HORSE AND THE ASS.
The Horse, adorned with his great war-saddle, and champing his foaming bridle, came thundering along the high-way, and made the mountains echo with his neighing. He had not gone far before he overtook an Ass, who was labouring under a heavy burthen, and moving slowly on in the same track. In an imperious tone he threatened to trample him in the dirt, if he did not get out of the way. The poor Ass, not daring to dispute, quietly got aside as fast as he could, and let him go by. Not long after this, the same Horse, in an engagement, happened to be shot in the eye, which made him unfit for show, or any military business, so he was stripped of his ornaments, and sold to a carrier. The Ass meeting him in this forlorn condition, thought that now it was his time to retort: Hey-day, friend, says he, is it you! Well, I always believed that pride of your’s would one day have a fall.
APPLICATION.
It is an affectation of appearing considerable, that puts men upon being proud and insolent; but this very affectation infallibly makes them appear little and despicable in the eyes of discerning people. Did the proud man but rightly consider what kind of ingredients pride is composed of and fed with, and the unstable foundation, and the tottering pinnacle upon which it stands, he would blush at the thoughts of it, and cease to be puffed up by the little supernumerary advantages, whether of birth, fortune, or title, which he may enjoy above his neighbours. These might indeed be a blessing to him, and to the community in which he lives, if wisely used; but if guided by pride, and consequently by want of sense, they will prove only a curse; and the reverence and respect which he looks for, will not be paid with sincerity, nor does he deserve it; and should the tide of misfortune set in against him, instead of friendship and commiseration, he will meet with nothing but contempt, and that with much more justice than ever he himself expressed it towards others. The vain proud man ought to be put in mind, that the time is not far distant, when his skull will not be distinguished from that of the beggar; and that there is no state, however exalted, so permanent, that it may not be reduced to a level with the lowest.
THE HAWK AND THE FARMER.
A Hawk, in the eagerness of his pursuit after a Pigeon, flew with such violence against the corner of a hedge, that he was stunned and fell. A Farmer, who had been looking about his fields, saw the whole transaction, and instantly ran and picked up the Hawk, and was going to kill him; but the latter begged the Man would let him go, assuring him he was only following a Pigeon, and neither intending, nor had done, any harm to him. To which the Farmer replied, and what harm had the Pigeon done to you? and wrung his head off immediately.
APPLICATION.
In all our transactions through life, to suppose ourselves in the place of those we may be dealing with, will be the most certain check upon our own conduct; and we ought always to consult our conscience about the rectitude of our behaviour: for this we may be assured of, that we are acting wrong, whenever we are doing any thing to another, which we should think unjust, if it were done to us. Let those, therefore, who intend to act justly, but take this view of things, and all will be well. There will be no danger of their oppressing others, or fear of their falling into error or danger themselves. Nothing but an habitual inadvertency as to this particular, can be the occasion of so many ingenuous noble spirits being so often engaged in courses opposite to virtue and honour.
THE FOX AND THE COUNTRYMAN.
A Fox being closely pursued by the Hunters, and almost run down, begged of a Countryman to give him protection, and save his life. The Man consented, and pointed out a hovel, into which the Fox crept, and covered himself up among some straw. Presently up came the Hunters, and enquired of the Man it he had seen the Fox, and which way he had taken? No, said he, I have not seen him here, he has passed another way; but all the while he nodded with his head, and pointed with his finger to the place where the Fox was hidden. These signals the Hunters, in the eagerness of pursuit, did not notice, but calling off the dogs, they dashed along in another direction. Soon after, the Fox came out of his hiding-place, and was sneaking off; when the Man calling after him,--Hollo, says he, is this the way you behave then, to go without thanking the benefactor who has saved your life? Reynard, who had peeped all the while, and had seen what passed, answered, I know what obligation I owe you well enough, and I assure you if your actions had agreed with your words, I should have endeavoured, however incapable of it, to have returned you suitable thanks.
APPLICATION.
Dissimulation and double dealing are among the most odious vices, and a hollow friend is worse than an open enemy; for in the full confidence of friendship, we are led to depend upon the man who uses that confidence to betray us. To pretend to keep another’s council, and appear in his interest, while underhand we are giving intelligence to his enemies, is treacherous, knavish, and base. Truth is a plain and open virtue, and cannot be practised in part; and truth and sincerity are the same; wherefore he that equivocates and adheres to his promise in one sense, without preserving it inviolably in its full extent and meaning, departs as much from truth and sincerity as the most direct liar.
“And be those juggling friends no more believ’d, That palter with us in a double sense; That keep the word of promise to the ear, And break it to our hope.”
ÆSOP AT PLAY.
An Athenian one day found Æsop entertaining himself with a company of little Boys at their childish diversions, and began to jeer and laugh at him for it. Æsop, who was too much a wag himself to suffer others to ridicule him, took a bow unstrung, and laid it upon the ground. Then calling the censorious Athenian, Now philosopher, says he, expound the riddle if you can, and tell us what the unstrained bow implies. The Man, after racking his brains a considerable time to no purpose, at last gave it up, and declared he knew not what to make of it. Why, says Æsop, smiling, if you keep a bow always bent, it will lose its elasticity presently; but if you let it go slack, it will be fitter for use when you want it.
APPLICATION.
The mind of man is not formed for unremitted attention, nor his body for uninterrupted labour; and both are in this respect like a bow. We cannot go through any business requiring intense thought, without unbending the mind, any more than we can perform a long journey without refreshing ourselves by due rest at the several stages of it. Continual labour, as in the case of the bended bow, destroys the elasticity and energy of both body and mind. It is, therefore, absolutely necessary for the studious man to unbend, and the laborious one to take his rest, or both lose their tone and vigour, and become dull and languid. It is to remedy these extremes, that pastimes and diversions ought to be kept up, provided they are innocent. The heart that never tastes of pleasure, shuts up, grows stiff, and is at last incapable of enjoyment.
THE FOX AND THE WOLF.
The Wolf having laid in a store of provisions, snugly kept in his den, and indulged himself in feasting upon them. The Fox observing this seclusion of the Wolf, became inquisitive to know the cause, and by way of satisfying his curiosity and his suspicions, he went and paid the Wolf a visit. The latter excused himself from seeing the Fox, by pretending he was very much indisposed. The Fox having smelt how matters stood, took his leave, and immediately went to a Shepherd to inform him of the discovery he had made, and that he had nothing else to do but to take a good weapon with him, and with it easily dispatch the Wolf as he lay dosing in his cave. The Shepherd following his directions, presently went and killed the Wolf. The wicked Fox then slily took possession of the cave and the provisions to himself; but he did not enjoy them long, for the same Shepherd shortly afterwards passing by the place, and seeing the Fox there, dispatched him also.
APPLICATION.