Th' other with learning crams his shelf,
Knows books, and all things but himself.
All these are fools of low condition,
Compar'd with Coxcombs of ambition:
For those, puff'd up with flattery, dare
Assume a nation's various care.
They ne'er the grossest praise mistrust,
Their sycophants seem hardly just;
For these, in part alone, attest

The flattery their own thoughts suggest.
In this wide sphere a Coxcomb's shown
In other realms besides his own:
The self-deem'd Machiavel at large
By turns controls in every charge.
Does Commerce suffer in her rights?
'Tis he directs the naval flights.
What sailor dares dispute his skill?
He'll be an admiral when he will.

Now, meddling in the soldier's trade,
Troops must be hir'd, and levies made.
He gives ambassadors their cue,
His cobbled treaties to renew ;
And annual taxes must suffice
The current blunders to disguise.
When his crude schemes in air are lost,
And millions scarce defray the cost,
His arrogance (nought undismay'd)
Trusting in self-sufficient aid,
On other rocks misguides the realm,
And thinks a pilot at the helm.
He ne'er suspects his want of skill,
But blunders on from ill to ill;
And, when he fails of all intent,
Blames only unforeseen event.
Lest you mistake the application,
The Fable calls me to relation.

A Bear of shag and manners rough,
At climbing trees expert enough;
For dextrously, and safe from harm,
Year after year he robb'd the swarm.
Thus thriving on industrious toil,
He glory'd in his pilfer'd spoil.

This trick so swell'd him with conceit,
He thought no enterprise too great.
Alike in sciences and arts,
He boasted universal parts:
Pragmatic, busy, bustling, bold,
His arrogance was uncontroll'd:
And thus he made his party good,
And grew dictator of the wood.

The beasts, with admiration, stare,
And think him a prodigious Bear.
Were any common booty got,
'Twas his each portion to allot :

For why? he found there might be picking,
Ev'n in the carving of a chicken.
Intruding thus, he by degrees
Claim'd, too, the butcher's larger fees.
And now his over-weening pride
In every province will preside.
No task too difficult was found:
His blundering nose misleads the hound.
In stratagem and subtle arts
He over-rules the fox's parts.

It chanc'd as, on a certain day,
Along the bank he took his way,
A boat, with rudder, sail, and oar,
At anchor floated near the shore.
He stopt, and, turning to his train,
Thus pertly vents his vaunting strain.

"What blundering puppies are mankind, In every science always blind!

I mock the pedantry of schools:
What are their compasses and rules?,
From me that helm shall conduct learn,
And man his ignorance discern."

So saying, with audacious pride,
He gains the Boat, and climbs the side.
The beasts, astonish'd, line the strand:
The anchor's weigh'd; he drives from land:
The slack sail shifts from side to side;
The Boat untrimm'd admits the tide.
Borne down, adrift, at random tost,
His oar breaks short, the rudder's lost.
The Bear, presuming in his skill,
Is here and there officious still;
Till, striking on the dangerous sands,
Aground the shatter'd vessel stands.

To see the bungler thus distrest,
The very fishes sneer and jest ;
Ev'n gudgeons join in ridicule,
To mortify the meddling fool.

The clamourous watermen appear;
Threats, curses, oaths, insult his ear:
Seiz'd, thrash'd, and chain'd, he's dragg'd to land;
Derision shouts along the strand.

FABLE VI.

THE SQUIRE AND HIS CUR.

TO A COUNTRY GENTLEMAN.

THE man of pure and simple heart Through life disdains a double part: He never needs the screen of lies, His inward bosom to disguise. In vain malicious tongues assail; Let Envy snarl, let Slander rail, From Virtue's shield (secure from wound) Their blunted venom'd shafts rebound. So shines his light before mankind, His actions prove his honest mind. If in his country's cause he rise, Debating senates to advise, Unbrib'd, unaw'd, he dares impart The honest dictates of his heart. No ministerial frown he fears, But in his virtue perseveres.

But would you play the politician,
Whose heart's averse to intuition,
Your lips at all times, nay, your reason,
Must be controll'd by place and season.
What statesman could his power support,
Were lying tongues forbid the court?
Did princely ears to truth attend,
What minister could gain his end?
How could he raise his tools to place,
And how his honest foes disgrace?

That politician tops his part,
Who readily can lie with art:
The man's proficient in his trade;
His power is strong, his fortune's made.
By that the interest of the throne
Is made subservient to his own:
By that have kings of old, deluded,
All their own friends for his excluded:
By that, his selfish schemes pursuing,
He thrives upon the public ruin.

Antiochus, with hardy pace, Provok'd the dangers of the chase; And, lost from all his menial train, Travers'd the wood and pathless plain. A cottage lodg'd the royal guest; The Parthian clown brought forth his best, The king unknown his feast enjoy'd, And various chat the hours employ'd. From wine what sudden friendship springs! Frankly they talk'd of courts and kings.

"We country-folks" (the clown replies)
"Could ope our gracious monarch's eyes.
The king, (as all our neighbours say)
Might he (God bless him!) have his way,
Is sound at heart, and means our good,
And he would do it if he could.
If truth in courts were not forbid,
Nor kings nor subjects would be rid.

Were he in power, we need not doubt him;
But that transferr'd to those about him,
On them he throws the regal cares;
And what mind they? Their own affairs.
If such rapacious hands he trust,
The best of men may seem unjust
From kings to coblers 'tis the same;
Bad servants wound their master's fame.
In this our neighbours all agree:
Would the king knew as much as we!"
Here he stopt short. Repose they sought,
The peasant slept, the monarch thought.
The courtiers learn'd, at early dawn,
Where their lost sovereign was withdrawn.
The guards' approach our host alarms;
With gaudy coats the cottage swarms.
The crown and purple robes they bring,
And prostrate fall before the king.
The clown was call'd; the royal guest
By due reward his thanks exprest.
The king then, turning to the crowd,
Who fawningly before him bow'd,

Thus spoke: "Since, bent on private gain,
Your counsels first misled my reign,
Taught and inform'd by you alone,
No truth the royal ear hath known,
Till here conversing: hence, ye crew;
For now I know myself and you."

Whene'er the royal ear's engrost,
State-lies but little genius cost.
The favourite then securely robs,
And gleans a nation by his jobbs.
Franker and bolder grown in ill,
He daily poisons dares instil;
And, as his present views suggest,
Inflames and soothes the royal breast.
Thus wicked ministers oppress,
When oft the monarch means redress.
Would kings their private subjects hear,
A minister must talk with fear;
If honesty oppos'd his views,
He dar'd not innocence accuse;
"Twould keep him in such narrow bound,
He could not right and wrong confound.
Happy were kings, could they disclose
Their real friends and real foes!
Were both themselves and subjects known,
A monarch's will might be his own.
Had he the use of ears and eyes,
Knaves would no more be counted wise,

1 Plutarch.

But then a minister might lose
(Hard case!) his own ambitious views.
When such as these have vex'd a state,
Pursu'd by universal hate,

Their false support at once hath fail'd,
And persevering truth prevail'd.
Expos'd, their train of fraud is seen;
Truth will at last remove the screen.

A Country 'Squire, by whim directed,
The true stanch dogs of chase neglected.
Beneath his board no hound was fed:
His hand ne'er strok'd the spaniel's head.
A snappish Cur, alone carest,
By lyes had banish'd all the rest.
Yap had his ear; and defamation
Gave him full scope of conversation.
His sycophants must be preferr'd;
Room must be made for all his herd:
Wherefore, to bring his schemes about,
Old faithful servants all must out.

The Cur on every creature flew,
(As other great men's puppies do)
Unless due court to him were shown,
And both their face and business known
No honest tongue an audience found;
He worried all the tenants round;
For why he liv'd in constant fear,
Lest Truth by chance should interfere.
If any stranger dar'd intrude,

The noisy Cur his heels pursued.

Now fierce with rage, now struck with dread,
At once he snarl'd, and bit, and fled.
Aloof he bays, with bristling hair,
And thus in secret growls his fear:
"Who knows but Truth, in this disguise,
May frustrate my best-guarded lies?
Should she (thus mask'd) admittance find,
That very hour my ruin's sign'd."

Now, in his howl's continued sound,
Their words were lost, the voice was drown'd.
Ever in awe of honest tongues,
Thus every day he strain'd his lungs.

It happen'd, in ill-qmen'd hour,
That Yap, unmindful of his power,
Forsook his post, to love inclin'd;
A favourite bitch was in the wind.
By her seduc'd, in amorous play,
They frisk'd the joyous hours away.
Thus by untimely love pursuing,
Like Antony he sought his ruin.

For now the 'Squire, unvex'd with noise, An honest neighbour's chat enjoys.

"Be free," says he; "your mind impart; I love a friendly open heart. Methinks my tenants shun my gate; Why such a stranger grown of late? Pray tell me what offence they find: "Tis plain they're not so well inclin❜d." "Turn off your Cur" (the farmer cries) Who feeds your ear with daily lies. His snarling insolence offends: 'Tis he that keeps you from your friends. Were but that saucy puppy checkt, You'd find again the same respect. Hear only him, he'll swear it too, That all our hatred is to you. But learn from us your true estate; 'Tis that curs'd Cur alone we hate." The 'Squire heard Truth. Now Yap rush'd in; The wide hall echoes with his dins

Yet Truth prevail'd; and, with disgrace, The dog was cudgel'd out of place.

FABLE VII.

THE COUNTRYMAN AND JUPITER.
TO MYSELF.

HAVE you a friend (look round and spy)

So fond, so prepossess'd as I?
Your faults, so obvious to mankind,
My partial eyes could never find.
When by the breath of Fortune blown,
Your airy castles were o'erthrown,
Have I been ever prone to blame,
Or mortify'd your hours with shame ?
Was I e'er known to damp your spirit,
Or twit you with the want of merit?

"Tis not so strange that Fortune's frown
Still perseveres to keep you down.
Look round, and see what others do.
Would you be rich and honest too?
Have you (like those she rais'd to place)
Been opportunely mean and base?
Have you (as times requir'd) resign'd
Truth, honour, virtue, peace of mind?
If these are scruples, give her o'er;
Write, practise morals, and be poor.

The gifts of Fortune truly rate,
Then tell me what would mend your state.
If happiness on wealth were built,
Rich rogues might comfort find in guilt.
As grows the miser's hoarded store,
His fears, his wants, increase the more.

Think, Gay, (what ne'er may be the case)
Should Fortune take you into grace,
Would that your happiness augment?
What can she give beyond content?
Suppose yourself a wealthy heir,
With a vast annual income clear!
In all the affluence you possess,
You might not feel one care the less.
Might you not then (like others) find
With change of fortune change of mind?
Perhaps, profuse beyond all rule,
You might start out a glaring fool;
Your luxury might break all bounds:
Plate, table, horses, stewards, hounds,
Might swell your debts: then, lust of play
No regal income can defray.
Sunk is all credit, writs assail,
And doom your future life to gaol.

Or, were you dignify'd with power,
Would that avert one pensive hour?
You might give avarice its swing,
Defraud a nation, blind a king:
Then, from the hirelings in your cause,
Though daily fed with false applause,
Could it a real joy impart?
Great guilt knew never joy at heart.
Is happiness your point in view?
(I mean th' intrinsic and the true)
She nor in camps or courts resides,
Nor in the humble cottage hides;
Yet found alike in every sphere;
Who finds content, will find her there.
O'erspent with toil, beneath the shade,
A Peasant rested on his spade:

"Good gods!" he cries, " 'tis hard to bear This load of life from year to year!

Soon as the morning streaks the skies,
Industrious Labour bids me rise;
With sweat I earn my homely fare,
And every day renews my care."

Jove heard the discontented strain,

And thus rebuk'd the murmuring swain:

"Speak out your wants, then, honest friend: Unjust complaints the gods offend.

If you repine at partial Fate,

Instruct me what could mend your state.
Mankind in every station see.

What wish you? tell me what you'd be."
So said, upborne upon a cloud,

The Clown survey'd the anxious crowd.
"Yon face of care," says Jove," behold,
His bulky bags are fill'd with gold.
See with what joy he counts it o'er!
That sum to day hath swell'd his store."
"Were I that man," (the Peasant cry'd)
"What blessings could I ask beside?"

"Hold," says the god; "first learn to know True happiness from outward show. This optic glass of intuitionHere, take it, view his true condition." He look'd, and saw the miser's breast A troubled ocean, ne'er at rest; Want ever stares him in the face, And fear anticipates disgrace: With conscious guilt he saw him start; Extortion gnaws his throbbing heart; And never, or in thought or dream, His breast admits one happy gleam.

"May Jove," he cries, "reject my prayer, And guard my life from guilt and care!

My soul abhors that wretch's fate.

O keep me in my humble state!
But see, amidst a gawdy crowd,
Yon minister so gay and proud,
On him what happiness attends,
Who thus rewards his grateful friends!"

"First take the glass," the god replies;
"Man views the world with partial eyes."
"Good gods!" exclaims the startled wight,
"Defend me from this hideous sight!
Corruption, with corrosive smart,
Lies cankering on his guilty heart:
I see him with polluted hand
Spread the contagion o'er the land.
Now Avarice with insatiate jaws,
Now Rapine with her harpy claws,
His bosom tears. His conscious breast
Groans with a load of crimes opprest.
See him, mad and drunk with power,
Stand tottering on Ambition's tower.
Sometimes, in speeches vain and proud,
His boasts insult the nether crowd,
Now, seiz'd with giddiness and fear,
He trembles lest his fall is near."

"Was ever wretch like this!" he cries
"Such misery in such disguise!
The change, O Jove! I disavow;
Still be my lot the spade and plough."
He next, confirm'd by speculation,
Rejects the lawyer's occupation;
For he the statesman seem'd in part,
And bore similitude of heart.
Nor did the soldier's trade inflame
His hopes with thirst of spoil and fame.

The miseries of war he mourn'd; Whole nations into deserts turn'd.

"By these have laws and rights been brav'd;
By these was free-born man enslav'd:
When battles and invasion cease,
Why swarm they in the lands of peace?
Such change" (says he)" may I decline;
The scythe and civil arms be mine!"

Thus, weighing life in each condition,
The Clown withdrew his rash petition.
When thus the god: "How mortals err!
If you true happiness prefer,
'Tis to no rank of life confin'd,
But dwells in every honest mind.
Be justice then your sole pursuit :
Plant virtue, and content's the fruit."
So Jove, to gratify the Clown,
Where first he found him, set him down.

FABLE VIII.

THE MAN, THE CAT, THE DOG, AND THE FLY.
TO MY NATIVE COUNTRY.

HALL, happy land! whose fertile grounds
The liquid fence of Neptune bounds,
By bounteous Nature set apart,
The seat of Industry and Art!
O Britain! chosen port of trade,
May luxury ne'er thy sons invade!
May never minister (intent
His private treasures to augment)
Corrupt thy state! If jealous foes
Thy rights of commerce dare oppose,
Shall not thy fleets their rapine awe?
Who is 't prescribes the ocean law?

Whenever neighbouring states contend,
'Tis thine to be the general friend.
What is 't who rules in other lands?
On trade alone thy glory stands;
That benefit is unconfin'd,
Diffusing good among mankind:
That first gave lustre to thy reigns,
And scatter'd plenty o'er thy plains:
'Tis that alone thy wealth supplies,
And draws all Europe's envious eyes.
Be commerce, then, thy sole design;
Keep that, and all the world is thine.

When naval traffic plows the main,
Who shares not in the merchant's gain?
'Tis that supports the regal state,
And makes the farmer's heart elate:
The numerous flocks that clothe the land
Can scarce supply the loom's demand;
Prolific culture glads the fields,
And the bare heath a harvest yields.

Nature expects mankind should share
The duties of the public care.

Who's born for sloth? To some we find
The ploughshare's annual toil assign'd:
Some at the sounding anvil glow;
Some the swift-sliding shuttle throw;
Some, studious of the wind and tide,
From pole to pole our commerce guide:
Some (taught by industry) impart
With hands and feet the works of art,

'Barrow.

While some, of genius more refin'd,
With head and tongue assist mankind.
Each, aiming at one common end,
Proves to the whole a needful friend.
Thus, boin each other's useful aid,
By turns are obligations paid.

The monarch, when his table's spread,
Is to the clown oblig'd for bread;
And, when in all his glory drest,
Owes to the loom his royal vest.
Do not the mason's toil and care
Protect him from th' inclement air?
Does not the cutler's art supply
The ornament that guards his thigh?
All these, in duty to the throne,
Their common obligations own.
'Tis he (his own and people's cause)
Protects their properties and laws.
Thus they their honest toil employ,
And with contents the fruits enjoy.
In every rank, or great or small,
"Tis industry supports us all.

The animals, by want oppress'd,
To man their services address'd:
While each pursu'd their selfish good,
They hunger'd for precarious food:
Their hours with anxious cares were vext;
One day they fed, and starv'd the next :
They saw that plenty, sure and rife,
Was found alone in social life;
That mutual industry profess'd,

The various wants of man redress'd.

The Cat, half famish'd, lean and weak, Demands the privilege to speak.

"Well, Puss," (says Man)" and what can you To benefit the public do?"

The Cat replies, "These teeth, these claws,
With vigilance shall serve the cause.
The mouse, destroy'd by my pursuit,
No longer shall your feasts pollute;
Nor rats, from nightly ambuscade,
With wasteful teeth your stores invade."
"I grant," says Man," to general use
Your parts and talents may conduce;
For rats and mice purloin our grain,
And threshers whirl the flail in vain :
Thus shall the Cat, a foe to spoil,
Protect the farmer's honest toil.

Then turning to the Dog, he cry'd,
"Well, sir, be next your merits try'd."
"Sir," says the Dog, "by self-applause
We seem to own a friendless cause.
Ask those who know me, if distrust
F'er found me treacherous or unjust?
Did I e'er faith or friendship break?
Ask all those creatures; let them speak.
My vigilance and trusty zeal
Perhaps might serve the public weal.
Might not your flocks in safety feed,
Were I to guard the fleecy breed?
Did I the nightly watches keep,
Could thieves invade you while you sleep?"
The Man replies: "Tis just and right;
Rewards such service should requite.
So rare, in property, we find
Trust uncorrupt among mankind,
That, taken in a public view,
The first distinction is your due.
Such merits all reward transcend :
Be then my comrade and my friend."

Addressing now the Fly: "From you What public service can accrue ?"

"From me!" (the fluttering insect said)
"I thought you knew me better bred.
Sir, I'm a gentleman. Is 't fit
That I to industry submit?

Let mean mechanics, to be fed,
By business earn ignoble bread;
Lost in excess of daily joys,

No thought, no care, my life annoys.
At noon (the lady's matin hour)
I sip the tea's delicious flower.
On cates luxuriously I dine,

And drink the fragrance of the vine.
Studious of elegance and ease,
Myself alone I seek to please."

"The Man his pert conceit derides, And thus the useless coxcomb chides:

"Hence, from that peach, that downy seat; No idle fool deserves to eat.

Could you have sapp'd the blushing rind,
And on that pulp ambrosial din'd,
Had not some hand, with skill and toil,
To raise the tree, prepar'd the soil?
Consider, Sot, what would ensue,
Were all such worthless things as you.
You'd soon be fore'd (by hunger stung)
To make your dirty meals on dung,
On which such despicable need,
Unpitied, is reduc'd to feed.
Besides, vain selfish inseet, learn,
(If you can right and wrong discern) ́
That he who, with industrious zeal,
Contributes to the public weal,
By adding to the common good,
His own hath rightly understood."

So saying, with a sudden blow
He laid the noxious vagrant low.
Crush'd in his luxury and pride,
The spunger on the public dy'd.

FABLE IX.

THE JACKALL, LEOPARD, AND OTHER BEASTS.
TO A MODERN POLITICIAN.

I GRANT Corruption sways mankind;
That interest, too, perverts the mind;
That bribes have blinded common sense,
Foil'd reason, truth, and eloquence:
I grant you, too, our present crimes
Can equal those of former times.
Against plain facts shall I engage,
To vindicate our righteous age?
I know that in a modern fist
Bribes in full energy subsist.
Since then these arguments prevail,
And itching palms are still so frail,
Hence politicians, you suggest,
Should drive the nail that goes the best;
That it shows parts and penetration,
To ply men with the right temptation.
To this I humbly must dissent,
Premising, no reflection's meant.

Does justice or the client's sense
Teach lawyers either side's defence?
The fee gives eloquence its spirit;
That only is the client's merit.

Does art, wit, wisdom, or address,
Obtain the prostitute's caress?
The guinea (as in other trades)
From every hand alike persuades.
Man, Scripture says, is prone to evil;
But does that vindicate the Devil?
Besides, the more mankind are prone,
The less the Devil's parts are shown.
Corruption's not of modern date;
It hath been try'd in every state;

Great knaves of old their power have fenc'd ;
By places, pensions, bribes, dispens'd;
By these they glory'd in success,
And impudently dar'd oppress;

By these despoticly they sway'd,

And slaves extoll'd the hand that pay'd;
Nor parts nor genius were employ'd,
By these alone were realms destroy'd.

Now see these wretches in disgrace,
Stript of their treasures, power, and place;
View them abandon'd and forlorn,
Expos'd to such reproach and scorn.
What now is all your pride, your boast?
Where are your slaves, your flattering host!
What tongues now feed you with applause!
Where are the champions of your cause?
Now ev'n that very fawning train,
Which shar'd the gleanings of your gain,
Press foremost who shall first accuse
Your selfish jobbs, your paltry views,
Your narrow schemes, your breach of trust,
And want of talents to be just.

What fools were these amidst their power! How thoughtless of their adverse hour! What friends were made? A hireling herd, For temporary votes preferr'd.

Was it these sycophants to get,

Your bounty swell'd a nation's debt?
You're bit: for these, like Swiss, attend;
No longer pay, no longer friend.

The lion is (beyond dispute)
Allow'd the most majestic brute;
His valour and his generous mind
Prove him superior of his kind:
Yet to jackalls (as 'tis averr'd)

Some lions have their power transferr'd;
As if the parts of pimps and spies
To govern forests could suffice.

Once, studious of his private good,
A proud Jackall oppress'd the wood;
To cram his own insatiate jaws,
Invaded property and laws.

The forest groans with discontent,
Fresh wrongs the general hate foment.

The spreading murmurs reach'd his ear;
His secret hours were vex'd with fear.
Night after night he weighs the case,

And feels the terrours of disgrace.

"By friends" (says he)" I'll guard my seat, By those malicious torues defeat;

I'll strengthen power by new allies,

And all my clamorous foes despise."

To make the generous beasts his friends,

He cringes, fawns, and condescends;
But those repuls'd his abject court,
And scorn'd oppression to support.
Friends must be had. He can't subsist.
Bribes shall new proselytes inlist:
But these nought weigh'd in honest paws;
For bribes confess a wicked cause: