THE FABLES OF POGGIUS.

Fab. CCCLII. Industry and Sloth.

One was asking a Lazy Young Fellow what made him lye in Bed so long? Why (says he,) I am hearing of Causes every Morning; that is to say, I have two Lasses at my Bed-side so soon as ever I wake. Their Names are Industry and Sloth; One bids me get up; t’other bids me lye still; and so they give me Twenty Reasons why I should Rise, and why I should not. ’Tis the part in the mean time of a Just Judge to hear what can be said on Both sides; and before the Cause is over, ’tis time to go to dinner.

The Moral.

We spend our Days in Deliberating what to do, and we end them without coming to any Resolution.

REFLEXION.

This Fable does naturally enough set forth an Expostulation betwixt Reason and Appetite, and the Danger of Running out our Lives in Dilatory Deliberations, when we should be rather Up and Doing. In all these Cases, ’tis odds that the Paradox carries it against the true Reason of the Thing; for we are as Partial to our Corruptions, as if our Understanding were of Counsel for our Frailties, and manage Disputes of this kind, as if we had a Mind to be overcome. The Sluggard’s Case in this Fable is the Case of Mankind in all the Duties of a Virtuous and a Well-Govern’d Life, where Judgment and Conscience call us one Way, and our Lusts hurry us another. We spend all our Days upon Frivolous Preliminaries, without ever coming to a Resolution upon the Main Points of our Business. We will, and we will not, and then we will not again, and we will. At this rate we run our Lives out in Adjournments from Time to Time, out of a Fantastical Levity that holds us off and on, betwixt Hawk and Buzzard, as we say, to keep us from bringing the Matter in question to a Final Issue. And yet we know well enough what we ought to do, and what not, if we would but take the Light of Reasonable Nature for our Guide, and hearken to the Councellor that every Man carries in his own Breast. But Men in the General are either too Lazy to Search out the Truth, or too Partial, in Favour of a Sensual Appetite, to take Notice of it when they have found it. They had rather be Tasting the Ease and the Pleasures of Life, then Reforming the Errors and the Vices of it. Does not the Voluptuary underhand in all the Liberties of a Loose and a Lewd Conversation, that he runs the risque both of Body and Soul on the one Hand, and Opposes all the Blessings that Attend the Duties of Virtue and Sobriety on the other? Does not the Ambitious, the Envious, and the Revengeful Man know very well, that the Thirst of Blood, and Affectation of Dominion by Violence and Oppression, is a most Diabolical Outrage upon the Laws of God and Nature, and upon the common Well-being of Mankind? But these People are Hearing Causes too, with our Slug-a-bed in the Apologue; that is to say, Deliberating betwixt Passion and Conscience, till in the End, they are called away, whether to Dinner or to Death, it makes no Matter, for the Moral is still the same.

Fab. CCCLIII. A Cock and a Fox.

A Fox spyd a Cock at Roost with his Hens about him. Why how now my Friend, says Reynard, What makes you upon a Tree there? Your Business lyes upon the Terra Firma, and a Cock in the Air is out of his Element, Methinks. But you don’t hear the News perhaps, and it is certainly true: there’s a general Peace concluded among all Living Creatures, and not one of them to presume upon pain of Life and Limb, Directly or Indirectly, to Hurt another. The Blessedest Tidings in the World, says the Cock; and at the same time he stretches out his Neck, as if he were a looking at somewhat a Great way off. What are you Peering at? says the Fox. Nothing says t’other, but a Couple of Great Dogs yonder that are coming this Way, Open-Mouth, as hard as they can drive. Why then says Reynard, I fancy I’d e’en best be Jogging. No, No, says the Cock, the General Peace will Secure you: Ay, quoth the Fox, so it will; but if these Roguy Currs should not have heard of the Proclamation, my Coat may come to be Pink’d yet for all that. And so away he Scamper’d.

The Moral.

In all the Liberties of Sharping and Tricking One upon Another, there must still a Regard be had to the Punctilios of Honour and Justice.

REFLEXION.

This is to tell us, that in some Cases one Nail must be driven out with another; and the Deceiving of the Deceiver doubles the Pleasure. ’Tis a Hard Matter to make a False Man and a False Tale consist with themselves; and when they come to Interfere, the Reason and the Argument of the Case returns upon the Head of the Impostor: So that it requires Great Care and Skill for a Man that has a Dark and a Double Design upon Another, to keep Clear of Clashing with his own Reasonings. Wherefore Parasites and Lyars had need of Good Memories. A General Peace would have Secured the Fox as well as the Cock: But if the Fox, would not stand the Dogs, the Cock had no Reason to Venture himself with the Fox. All People that are Perfidious, either in their Conversation, or in their Kind, are Naturally to be Suspected in Reports that favour their Own Interest; and when they can make nothing else on’t, they find it the Best of their Play to put it off with a Jest.

’Tis a common thing for Captious People, and Double-Dealers, to be taken in their own Snares; as for the Purpose in the Matter of Power, Policy, the Fundamentals, and the Maxims of Government, &c. How many are there that Limit Sovereignty in One Case to strain it in Another, and so Handle the same Question Pro and Con, at the same Time? Government is to be Bounded when it may serve one Turn, and Absolute when it may serve Another. Insomuch that for want of Presence of Thought, Men affirm what they Deny, and Deny what they Affirm, and run Counter to Themselves. If Sovereign Power cannot Dispense, ’tis Ty’d up they cry; and if it may be Ty’d up, ’tis no longer Sovereign Power; for that which Tyes it up, is Above it. At this Rate, One Doctrin Interferes with Another, and the very Foundations of Reason and Government sink at last into a Paradox. When the Fox brings Tydings of a Peace, and Preaches upon the Subject to the Poultry, Beware the Geese. Your Foxes Acts of Amnesty are no Other then the Old Stale Politicks I know not how many Years ago. They Pardon all in General, in the Beginnings; those that ought to be Hanged, in the Middle; and not one Honest Man in the Conclusion. So that ’tis Ten to One the Cock was Excepted in the Proclamation; and that though the Dogs were not allowed so much as to lick their Lips at a Fox upon their Uttermost Peril, Reynard had gotten a Proviso for Himself, yet to carry on his Old Trade among the Lambs and the Poultry still. This is the Method of all Popular Shams, when the Multitude are to be led by the Noses into a Fool’s Paradise. The State-Foxes tell ’em what Golden-Days are now a coming, When Every Man shall sit under his own Vine, and Eat the Fruit of his own Fig-Tree: How Trade and Religion shall Flourish, and the People in short keep Holy-Day all the Year long. These are Fine Words, but the Fox’s Business upon the Upshot, is only the Cramming his own Gut, without any respect to the Publick.

Fab. CCCLIV. A Taylor and his Wife.

There happen’d a Grievous Quarrel once betwixt a Taylor and his Wife. The Woman in Contempt of his Trade called her Husband Pricklouse; he gave her a Box o’the Ear for’t, which served only to make her more Outragious. When this would do no good, he set her up to the Chin in a Horse-Pond; but so long as her Tongue was at Liberty, there was not a Word to be got from her but the same Nick-Name in Derision over and over again. Well (says he to himself,) there’s no way I perceive to Quiet this Woman but by stopping of her Mouth, and so he had her Duck’d next bout over Head and Ears. When she was under Water, and could call him Pricklouse no longer with her Lips, she held up her Hands over her Head, and did it with her Thumbs by the Knicking of her Nails; and when he saw that once, he was e’en glad to give her over.

The Moral.

The last Two Things that die in an Impetuous Woman, are her Tongue and her Stomach, when she cannot have her Will.

REFLEXION.

’Tis the Fortune of many an Honest Harmless Man, to have this Fable Moraliz’d to him under his own Roof; but the Better any thing is in it’s Perfection, the Worse is the Corruption of it; as there is nothing more Fœtid then a Rotten Egg. ’Tis the same thing betwixt a Temperate and an Impetuous Woman. Tempests and Sea-Breaches are nothing to her. There’s no Place for Reasoning with her, neither is there any thought of Curing her Will, by Applying to her Body. But now for the Honour, and (in some sort) the Comfort of that Fair Sex, they do not suffer alone under the Scandal of this Figure; for Men have their Violent Passions and Transports as well as Women, and Passions much more Dangerous too then the other. The Taylor’s Wife was only a Good Hearty Shrew, under the Impotency of an Unruly Waspish Humour; She would have her Will, ay marry would she, and that was all the Harm in’t. But ’tis another manner of Business when Men come once to be Transported out of the Government of Themselves, and beyond the Use of their Reason. Their Violences are Mortal and Outrageous, even to the Ruin of Kingdoms, Common-Wealths, Families, Persons, &c., and like a Torrent, they bear down all before them, Friends, Relations, the common Principles of Religion and Nature, or whatever else stands in their Way. Nay, they make it a point of Honour to be Firm to their Wickedness, and with the Old Covenant in their Mouths to Live and Dye Impenitent. They’ll do all the Mischief in fine that they can, and when they can do no more, they’ll be Troubled at it and call Pricklouse with her Thumbs still, when they can do’t no longer with their Tongues.

Fab. CCCLV. A Woman Drown’d.

An Unfortunate Woman happen’d to be Drown’d, and her Poor Husband was mightily in Pain to find out the Body; so away he goes along the Bank up the Course of the River, asking all he met still, if they could tell him any Tydings of the Body of his Dear Wife, that was overturn’d in a Boat at such a Place Below. Why, if you’d find your Wife, they cry’d, You must look for her down the Stream. No, No, says the Man, my Wives Will carried her against Wind and Tide all the Days of her Life; and now she’s Dead, which way soever the Current runs she’ll be sure to be against it.

The Moral.

The Spirit of Contradiction in a Cross Grain’d Woman is Incurable.

REFLEXION.

This falls hard upon the desperate Obstinacy of some Women; and the Freak of the Conceit does no yet derogate from the Usefulness of the Fable. The Analogy is Pleasant and Pertinent enough, betwixt a Living Crossness of Humour, and Opposition to the ordinary Course and Reason of Things, and the Fancy of a Dead Body swimming against the Stream. And the License of Couching the Matter under this Figure, and of Wording it after that Manner, carries no Offence with it, either to Congruity, or Good Manners. Beside, that the very Turn and Point of the Illustration sets a Mark upon’t to be Remember’d by: So that the Moral sticks by us, and takes a Deeper Root, when we can call it to Mind afterwards by such or such a Token.

There are some People that Value themselves upon being a kind of Antipodes to all Mankind, and in making other Mens Rules their Exceptions: Opposition and Contradiction is their Study and Delight. Now there’s as much Pride and Vanity in setting up for the Ring-leader of a Perverse Practice, as in the Affectation of being the First Broacher of an Heretical Opinion. Hence it comes that Half the Wit of the World is Exercised upon Paradox; and that which we call Good Humour, is in Truth but a sort of Slight of Hand in Discourse, or a Faculty of making Truths look like Appearances, or Appearances like Truths. Now this Gift of Hocus-Pocussing, and of Disguising Matters, is so Surprising and Agreeable on the one hand, that it must of Necessity be a very strong Temptation to the Quitting of the Beaten Road on the other. Mankind was all cast in the same Mould, made liable to the same Affections, Enlightened with the same Principles, and we have all of us the same Rule to Walk by; the same Duties incumbent upon us in this World, and the same Pretensions to our Part in the next; insomuch that whoever affects a Fantastical Singularity of Crossness to all his Fellows, he puts himself in some degree out of the Pale of a common Providence and Protection: Beside, that the Evil is as incurable in the Man to whom it is become Habitual, as it was with the Woman here in the Fable.

Fab. CCCLVI. A Bishop and a Curate.

A Certain Country Curate had a Dog that he had a Mighty Kindness for; the Poor Cur Sickens and Dyes, and his Master in Honour of his Memory gave him Christian Burial. This came to the Bishop’s Ear, who presently sent for the Curate, Rattled him to some Tune, with Menaces to the Highest Degree for bringing such a Scandal upon the Function. My Lord, (says the Curate,) if your Lordship had but known the understanding of this Dog, both Living and Dying, and especially how Charitable an End he made, You would not have Grudged him a Place in the Church-Yard among the rest of his Fellow-Parishioners. How so, says the Bishop? Why, my Lord, says the Curate, when he found he was Drawing home, he sent for a Notarius, and made his Testament. There’s my Poor Lord Bishop in Want, says he, and it is my Will to leave him a Hundred Crowns for a Legacy. He charg’d me to see it perform’d, and I have it here in a Purse for your Lordship ready Counted. The Bishop upon the Receipt of the Mony, gave the Priest Absolution, and found it a very good Will, and a very Canonical Burial.

The Moral.

Mony Corrupts both Church and State.

REFLEXION.

There may be Ill Men in Holy Orders, and the Lewdness of the Person does not at all derogate from the Sacredness of the Function. Avarice on the one hand, is an Encouragement as well as a Protection to Licentiousness on the other, when People know before-hand, that Mony will Compound all Differences. Nay, and Mony is a Protestant Reconciler too as well as a Popish, when Passion and Corruption come once to be Authoriz’d under the Venerable Cover of a Sacred Character; only the Bishop Absolves Himself in the one Case, as he does the Curate in the other. So that Mony upon the Main, serves for the Touchstone of Common Honesty, Faith, Law, and Religion: The Devil holds the Scale, and Profit or Loss is made the Standard of Gospel or Heresy. It Pleads all Causes, Defends all Titles, and turns Christianity it self into a Moot Point. It sets Texts together by the Ears; as well as Divines, and makes the Voice of God to be of more Authority in the Mouths of the Multitude, then the Oracles of Holy Writ. ’Tis the Idol that Men of all Ranks and Professions Bow to; States-men, Sword-men, Lawyers, Ecclesiasticks, &c. there’s hardly anything in Nature that has the Heart to withstand it; Bating here and there some singular Exception perhaps, from a General Rule. What are Courts more then Common Markets, where Men are Bought and Sold in the one, as Beasts are in the other? The Captain Fights for his Pay; the Lawyer Pleads for his Fee, no Matter for the Conscience of the Cause; the one’s a Soldier of Fortune he tells ye, the other is a Lawyer of Fortune; and for the Business of Right or Wrong, ’tis not one Scruple of the Question. ’Tis Mony in fine, that like the Devil, makes Men Sail with all Wind, and sets all Wheels agoing. Nay the very Altar it self scapes not the Almighty Power of so Irresistible a Temptation; for we are taught in this Fable, that an Episcopal Habit is not one jot better Proof against Corruption, then a Colonels Buff-Coat. ’Tis not a Sanctimonious Pretence, under a Pomp of Form and Title, without the Grace of an Inward Affection and Integrity that will serve the Turn: The Articles of the Christian Faith, and the Doctrin of our Blessed Lord and his Apostles, are to Day, and to Morrow and the same for ever; not to be Moulded and Accommodated to every turn of State, but to be held and kept Inviolate as a standing Rule of all Ages. There are no such Worshippers of the Devil, as the Buyers and Sellers of Souls; there’s nothing they’ll stick at, but Shuffle, Cant, Juggle, Swear back and forward like so many Spiritual Knights of the Post; serve all Times, and all Gods, even though Paganism it self should turn up Trump; for this sort of Prostitutes steer all their Actions by the Compass of Viderit Utilitas, and for the Dogs Legacy Absolve the Devil himself, and with this Beastly Avaricious Bishop, Pronounce the Blackest Soul in Hell to be as White as Snow.

Fab. CCCLVII. A Husband, Wife, and Ghostly Father.

A Man of Quality had gotten a Peevish Contentious Woman to his Wife, that was observed to go every Day to Confession, and her Bus’ness was not so much to Discharge her Conscience of her own Sins, as to tell Tales of her Husband. The Holy Father would be ever and anon Chiding and Admonishing the Cavalier, telling him, that if he would but come to Confession, he doubted not but to make him and his Wife Friends again. The Gentleman said Yes, he would, and he went accordingly. The Good Man then bad the Penitent be sure to Examine himself thoroughly, and leave nothing out: Alas, Father, says he, for that Matter, there will be no need on’t; for you have had all my Sins in Confession from my Wife already, and a Thousand times more perhaps then ever I Committed.

The Moral.

Calumny is half the Business of a Bigot: Bitterness passes for Zeal, and our very Devotions are in Effect but Libels against our Superiours.

REFLEXION.

There’s no such Cloak as Religion for all manner of Wickedness, and the Man is a stark Fool that cannot Impose upon his Neighbour, when he has once got the Mastery of his own Conscience: There’s no Evidence of our Thoughts, but our Works; and if any Hypocrite can but Conceal himself from the Eyes of his Companions, he never troubles his Head to Consider how Open he lyes to the Searcher of his Heart. What was the Penitent’s Confession here, but a Cover for his Calumny? And her Husband’s way after that of giving the Holy Father to Understand the Truth of the Matter, was a Turn Pleasant enough.

’Tis a Field of a Huge Latitude that the Devil has to Dance and to Play his Gambols in, when he sets himself to Preach upon the Text of Religion and Conscience. In the Troubles of King Charles the First, what with Humiliations and Thanksgivings, Seditious Lectures, and Pulpit-Invectives, the People had hardly any other Business at Church then to tell God Almighty Tales of their Sovereign: So that this Unhappy Prince might have Answerd his Confessarius upon the shrift of an Auricular Confession, as our Husband Answerd his here in the Fable, That Others had done it for him, and told more then All beforehand. This was the Method of their Proceedings toward him through the whole Course of his Distresses, from the First Odious Remonstrance, to the Last Execrable Stroke upon the Scaffold. They began with Blasting him in his Reputation; they took up Arms against him, Hunted and Pursued him; Seized his Revenues and his Person, Depos’d him from his Royal Dignity, Usurp’d the Government to Themselves, and under the Colour of a Formality of Law, put him upon a Judicial Tryal, and took away his Life. And not One Step did they set all this while in the whole Tract of this Iniquity, without Seeking the Lord first, and going up to enquire of the Lord, according to the Cant of those Days. Which was no other then to Make God the Author of Sin, and to Impute the Blackest Practices of Hell to the Inspiration of the Holy Ghost.

Fab. CCCLVIII. An Old Man and an Ass.

An Old Man and a Little Boy were driving an Ass before them to the next Market to Sell. Why have you no more Wit, (says One to the Man upon the Way,) then you and your Son to Trudge it a Foot, and let the Ass go Light? So the Man set the Boy upon the Ass, and Footed it Himself. Why Sirrah, says another after this, to the Boy, Ye Lazy Rogue you, must you Ride, and let your Ancient Father go A-Foot? The Man upon this took down his Boy, and got up Himself. D’ye see (says a Third) How the Lazy Old Knave Rides Himself, and the Poor Little Child has much ado to Creep after him! The Father, upon this, took up his Son behind him. The next they met, ask’d the Old Man whether his Ass were his Own or no? He said Yes. Troth, there’s little sign on’t says t’other, by your Loading him thus. Well, says the Fellow to Himself, and what am I to do now? For I am Laugh’d at, if either the Ass be empty, or if One of us Rides, or Both; and so in the Conclusion he Bound the Asses Legs together with a Cord, and they try’d to Carry him to Market with a Pole upon their Shoulders betwixt them. This was Sport to every Body that saw it, insomuch that the Old Fellow in great Wrath threw down the Ass into a River, and so went his way Home again. The Good Man, in Fine, was willing to please Every Body, but had the Ill Fortune to Please No Body, and lost his Ass into the Bargain.

The Moral.

He that Resolves not to go to Bed till all the World is pleas’d, shall be troubled with the Head-Ach.

REFLEXION.

So many Men, so many Minds; and this Diversity of Thought must necessarily be attended with Folly, Vanity, and Error: For Truth is one and the same for Ever, and the Sentence of Reason stands as Firm as the Foundation of the Earth. So that no Man can be either Happy or Secure that Governs himself by the Humour and Opinion of the Common People. ’Tis a Thing utterly impossible to Please All, And none but a Mad Man will endeavour to Please those that are Divided among themselves, and can never Please one another. A Wise, and an Honest Man lives by Rule, and Consults the Conscience of his Actions, without any Regard to Popular Applause. Did ever any Mortal yet in his Right Wits, Advise with the Mobile about the Government of his Life and Manners? (Or which is all one, with the Common and Professed Enemies of Reason and Virtue,) Did ever any Creature make a Friend or Confident of them? Why should we be sollicitious then to be thought well of by those that no Prudent Good Man ever thought well of? They are all Passion and Fancy, without either Judgment or Moderation: They neither understand what they do, nor why; but act with a kind of Impetus, that knows neither Consideration nor Conduct. So that it is in truth a Scandal, and an Ill Sign to Please them; but a worse yet, for a Man to value himself upon the Reputation of a Popular Favour. What are their Affections but violent Transports that are carried on by Ignorance and Rage? What are their Thoughts of Things, but variety of Incorrigible Error? And what are they themselves in their own Nature, but a Herd rather then a Society? Their Humour is very Happily set forth in this Fable; and so is the Vanity of the Old Man’s endeavouring to keep Fair with them; for they are still unsatisfied with the Present State of Things, and consequently never to be pleased. Now if a Man had nothing else to do but to Fool away his Days in the pursuit of Phantomes and Shaddows, and then at last lie down in the Dust like a Brute, without any Fear or Danger of an after-Reckoning, the Care were taken; but for a Reasonable Soul to Post-pone the most Necessary Offices and Duties of Life, and to Hazard the very loss even of Heaven it self, in favour of a depraved Appetite? What has he to Answer for, that shall be found Guilty of so Impious a Madness? The very Dog’s not worth the Hanging that runs out at Check, and lets every Cackling Crow or Daw divert him from his Game and Business. To Conclude; A due Consideration of the Vanities of the World will Naturally bring us to the Contempt of it; and that Contempt of the World will as certainly bring us Home to our Selves. This was the Case of the Poor Man here, when he had Try’d this, and that, and t’other Experiment, he threw all his Care and Follies together with his Ass into the River: And then he was at Rest.

Fab. CCCLIX. A Man Dreamt he found Gold.

A Man fancied in his Sleep once, that he was carried by the Devil into a Field to Dig for Gold, where he found a Great Treasure; so the Devil advised him not to take it away with him at present, but rather to leave some particular Mark upon the Place, that he might find it another time. What Mark? says the Dreamer. E’en down with your Breeches, quoth the Devil, and lay your Tail there; my Life for yours, do but keep your own Councel, and no Body will look for Gold in that Place. The Fellow did as he was bid, and when he Wak’d, he found that his Dream was out.

The Moral.

He that Consents to deal with the Devil for Money in his Sleep, ’tis to be fear’d he would do it Waking too, if it lay fair for his Hand.

REFLEXION.

It is a School-Question how far a Man is answerable in many Cases for his Dreams: Now here was Deliberation, Discourse, and Consent; So that both the Understanding and the Will had their Parts in the Story: Where Avarice was at One End on’t, ’twas no wonder that the Devil should be at the Other. But Men go to the Devil for Money Waking as well as Sleeping: Nay, and Men of all Sorts and Qualities too, from the Prince to the Beggar. Churchmen, Statesmen, Tradesmen, Lawyers, and who not? And if all that go to Hell upon that Errand, should Beshit the Sheets, there would be a World of Work for the Wash-Women.

Fab. CCCLX. A Country-Fellow and a Hog.

In a Certain Countrey where it was the Custom for any Man that Kill’d a Hog, to invite the Neighborhood to Supper with him; a Curmudgeonly-Fellow that had a Hog to Kill, advised with One of his Companions how he might save the Charge of that Supper. Why (says he) do but give it out to Morrow Morning, that the Hog was Stollen the Night before; set a good Face on’t, and your Work is done. Away goes this Man Open-Mouth, next Morning, Bawling it about, that his Hog was Stollen. Right, Right, says his Camarade, Roar it out as I bad you. Ay, but says the Hog-Merchant, with Damned Oaths and Imprecations, My Hog is Stoll’n in Good Earnest. Upon my Life, says t’other, thou dost it Rarely. So the one Swore on, and the other Fool’d on, till in the Conclusion the Churle found he was Banter’d out of his Hog; for the Hog was Stollen indeed.

The Moral.

Penny Wise, and Pound Foolish.

REFLEXION.

’Tis a Point of Decency and Discretion for a Man to Comply with the Common Customs of the Place, where he Lives, over and above the Rules of Good Neighborhood and Society. So that the Old Hunks here was well enough serv’d to be trick’d out of a whole Hog for the Saving of his Puddings: And it was so much the better too, that he was of the Plot to the Fooling of Himself, and had his own Jest turned upon him in Earnest: For he was caught in his own Snare, and met withal, as we say, in his own Kind. And we may make this further Use on’t, That an Ill-Natur’d Thrift is next Door to Squandring: He was Cheated, and he was Laugh’d at, and he Deserv’d both; for he made himself a Party to the Picking of his own Pocket, and the very Sham that he designed upon his Neighbours was turn’d upon Himself. The Frolick was Pleasant and Pertinent enough, but the Conscience of the Case is another Question; though there’s this to be said for’t, that it was but one Fraud paid with another, and that he Himself went half way in’t by his own Consent. ’Twas with the Man and the Hog, as with the Boy and the Wolf; he would be Crying a Wolf, a Wolf, when there was none, and then could not be Believed when there was.

Fab. CCCLXI. A Florentine and a Horse-Courser.

A Florentine bought a Horse for so many Crowns, upon Condition to Pay one Half down upon the Nail, and be a Debtor for the rest. The Horse-Courser comes to the Florentine next Morning for the remainder of the Money. Soft, says the Florentine, A Bargain’s a Bargain: My Contract was to be your Debtor for the Rest, and if I Pay it, I’m no longer your Debtor.

The Moral.

Conceits and Witticisms pay no Scores.

REFLEXION.

This Fable is only a silly Tale told for the Tale’s sake, without any further Mystery or Meaning that I can perceive in’t. If the Florentine had been Drubb’d, or laid by the Heels for the Fallacy, or but Laugh’d at for the Conceit, it would have serv’d for a Caution to People how they Trifle and play the Tonies betwixt Jest and Earnest, in Matters of Common Honesty, Good Faith and Business. Or it would have born a Moral, to Discountenance the Levity of Punning and Jingling; and the Childish Humour of Fooling with Mental Reservations and Double Meanings. But as it is, I can find nothing more in’t then a Frothy, Empty Story. It may serve however as a Buoy to keep People at a Distance, and give Notice of a Shelf or a Flat. For the Silliness of taking Delight in this Vulgar way of Sophism, is to me as arrant an Indication of an Innocent, as a Bib and a Bauble. So that the Doctrine of a Thing done here, teaches us what we are not to do; that is to say, we are neither to Meditate Fraudulent Contracts, nor to take Childish Collusions in Conversation for Current Payment.

Fab. CCCLXII. A Christian and a Pagan.

A Christian and a Pagan, that had been Old Acquaintances and Fellow-Travellers, had several Discourses upon the way together about Religion; and coming into Italy, the Christian advised the Infidel, for his better Satisfaction, only to go to Mass once, and then tell him what he thought on’t. The Pagan accordingly went to Church, and being afterwards ask’d his Opinion of the Ceremonies and Solemnity of the Office, his Answer was, That he saw but one Thing there that he Dislik’d; which was, that it look’d a little Uncharitable for one Man to Eat and Drink by Himself, and all the rest to look on.

The Moral.

’Tis much with Opinions as it is with Tasts, we can no more Command our Judgments than our Palates.

REFLEXION.

The Poison of this Fable in the Liberty of Jesting with Holy Matters, would need an Antidote to go along with it, if it were not that it is a Pagan’s Conceit, and consequently suitable enough to the Character and Humour of an Infidel, to have the Offices of Christianity in Derision. If we take it by that Handle, it may serve for a Reproof to those among our selves, (as we have but too many of them,) that take the same Freedom of Scoffing at Religion, and Religious Rites and Ceremonies. These People pass in the World under the Name of Christians, but in their Hearts and Manners they are little better than Pagans: The Frolick of a Merry Word goes further with them, then the Conscience of their Profession, and if they can but elude the Dint of a Pinching Conviction by some Trivial Jest, the Conceit they think Attones for the Wickedness.

Fab. CCCLXIII. An Ass Taught Grammar.

There was a Bold Undertaking Pedant, Wager’d his Neck against a certain Sum of Money that in Ten Years time he would Teach an Ass to Write, Read, and Chop Logick. His Friends called him a Thousand Mad-men for Casting away his Life upon so absolute an Impossibility. Pray Gentlemen (says the Undertaker,) have but a little Patience; for ’tis odds, that before the Term’s out, either the Prince Dies, (that’s a Party to the Contract,) or the Ass Dies, or the Adventurer Dies, and then the Danger’s over.

The Moral.

Collusion without Malice is, in many Cases, not only Laudable but Necessary.

REFLEXION.

There are some Cases wherein a Man may Justifie some sort of Shufling and Evading, without any Offence to Honour or Good Faith; as in a Case for the Purpose, where the gaining of Time may be as much as a Man’s Life or Estate is worth. Some Men are but one Remove from Some Asses, and the Difficulty of Teaching the one, is next Door to the impossibility of Teaching the other. The very Proportion is a Whimsie pleasant enough, to shew the Vanity of attempting to make a Philosopher of a Blockhead: Neither is it of a Quality to be understood according to the Letter. So that in such a Case, if a Man can but Save himself by a Shift, or a Figure, ’tis all that can be desired; and the Conditions naturally implied, fall within the Fair Equity of the Question. There are certain Bounds and Terms of Raillery that may very well stand with the Rules of Honesty and Good Manners; that is to say, Where the Liberty carries neither Malice, Sauciness, nor Ill Nature along with it: And the discreet Manage of such a sort of Freedom, betwixt Jest and Earnest, Seasons the Entertainment of an Agreeable Conversation. We should say to our Selves in all our Distresses upon the Apprehension of Temporal Difficulties to come, as this Pedant in the Fable did to his Relations and Companions; Let it be Bondage, Loss of Friends, Beggery, Banishment, nay Death it self, [This or that may Intervene.] It is an Unaccountable Weakness for a Man to put himself upon the Torture at present, for fear some body else should Torment him Seven Years hence. Is it not enough for us to be Miserable when the time comes, unless we make our selves so beforehand, and by Anticipation? When we have gone as far as Conscience, Honour, Industry, and Human Prudence can carry us, toward the preventing, or the averting of the Danger that threatens us, we are to remit the rest to Providence, and wait the good Pleasure of Heaven with Patience, Humility and Resignation. This Man was to Die at Seven Years end, unless he could bring to pass a thing impossible. Now sooner or later, (and which of the Two is uncertain,) we are all of us to Die. Why are we not as Sollicitous now for the Certainty of the Thing, as for the Appointment of the Time, when a Thousand Accidents may interpose to divert the one, and the other is wholly inevitable?

Fab. CCCLXIV. A Priest and Epiphany.

To Morrow (says the Curate) is to be Celebrated the Feast of Epiphany; I do not know whether the Saint be a Man or a Woman; but the Day however is to be observ’d with Great Solemnity.

The Moral.

The Sillyness of the Person does not at all Derogate from the Dignity of his Character and Commission.

REFLEXION.

This is a Dry Fable, and there’s nothing to be gotten out of it but by Squeezing. It may pass however with a little Force, for a Reproach upon the Ignorance of many People in their own Trade, provided always that there be no Reflexion upon the Profession it self, which is but too much the Practice of Loose Men, and of Troublesome Times; as if the Commission were to Blame for the Person’s sake that abuses it. There are Men of all sorts, Good and Bad, in all Functions and Societies: and the Order, or the Office, is never the worse for the Failings of an Ill, or a Weak Man that has the Execution of it. It was well turn’d by Mr. Selden upon an Alderman in the Long-Long Parliament on the Subject of Episcopacy. Mr. Speaker, says the Alderman, There are some Clamours against such and such of the Prelates, that we shall never be Quiet till we have no more Bishops. Mr. Selden upon this, Informs the House, what Grievous Complaints there were for High Misdemeanors against such and such Aldermen, and therefore, says he, by a Parity of Reason, it is my Humble Motion that we may have no more Aldermen. Here was the Fault transferr’d to the Office, which is a Dangerous Error; for not only Government, but Human Society it self may be Dissolved by the same Argument, if the Frailties or Corruptions of particular Men shall be Reveng’d upon the whole.

Fab. CCCLXV. A Tavern Reckoning paid with a Song.

A Hungry Traveller stept into an Eating-House for his Dinner, and when he had filled his Belly, mine Host brought him his Reckoning. Well, says the Traveller, I must e’en Pay you with a Song now; for I have not one Penny of Money. T’other told him in short, that his Business was Money, not Musick. But what if I should give you a Song yet that shall Content you? (says the Man again,) Will you not take that for Satisfaction? Yes, says the Victualler, if I like it. So he fell to Singing I know not how many Songs, one after another; But the Master told him in one Word, that Songs would pay no Scores where he had to do. Well (says the Songster,) Let me try but once more now, and I shall go near to fit ye. So he took out his Purse as if he would open it, and at the same time Sung him a Song with this Bob to’t, Out with your Purse, and Pay your Host. How d’ye like this now? (says the Traveller!) Oh very well, says mine Host. Why I thought I should fit you at last with a Song that would Please you, quoth the other, and so he went away.

The Moral.

There are some ways of Fooling that do the Business of Skill and Address.

REFLEXION.

The Conceited Sharper here in the Fable, sets forth the Humour and Character of the Spunging Buffons that a Man meets every Day in his Porridge Dish: that is to say, in Courts, and at Great Mens Tables, as well as elsewhere. These same Jack-Pudding Smell-Feasts are certainly the most Despicable Creatures under the Sun, unless perhaps their Patrons that Protect and Encourage them may be the more Contemptible Wretches of the Two. They make Fooling their Business and their Livelihood, and live like Izeland Shocks, by shewing Tricks for Bread. They turn Conversation into a direct Farce: Their Wit is either Scurrilous or Frothy, which they manage at such a Rate, as if Human Reason were a Faculty only to make Sport withal.

Fab. CCCLXVI. A Fryar, a Laique and a Wolf.

A Certain Mendicant (one of those that beg in the Name of St. Anthony,) contracted with a Country Fellow for such a quantity of Corn to Ensure his Sheep, and his Husbandry for that Year. The Man depended so absolutely upon this Security, that he e’en left his Sheep to look to themselves; and the Wolf picked up I know not how many of them. This past on, ’till the Holy Brother came for his next Years Provision. Yes, says the Clown, You’re a Trusty Spark indeed, to take Charge of my Sheep, and then let the Wolf Eat them all; your Promises are not worth a Fart, and I’ll have no more to do with you. Ah! that same Villanous Wolf, says the Religious! Indeed you must have a care of him, for he’s e’en so wicked a Beast, that he shall not only Deceive St. Anthony, but St. Anthony’s Master himself too, if he had it in his Power.

The Moral.

All Promises are either broken or kept.

REFLEXION.

Here’s a Reproof to all Religious Cheats and Impostors that Promise more then they are able to Perform, and Preach those Doctrines to their Disciples, which they do not Believe themselves. When Churchmen come once to be Mercenary, and to Prostitute the Truth for Mony, no wonder, after their Example, if the Laity Govern their Consciences too by the same Measure. It makes Religion look liker a Trade, or a Contrivance of State, then a Divine Inspiration: Nay, it staggers People in the very Foundations of their Faith, to see Ministers at Variance with themselves, and the Pulpits changing with the Times, and Paradoxing upon the Gospel. Holy Men Teach in their Lives as well as with their Lips, and it draws an Irreverence upon the Function, where the one bears a Contradiction to the other. There must be no Preaching of Salvation one Day, and Damnation another, upon one and the same Text. There are Quacks in Divinity, as well as in Physick, and Pretenders to the Absolving of all Sins, as well as to Remedies for all Diseases. But the Curate went beyond his Province, when he stretch’d his Patent for the Cure of Souls, to a kind of Tutelary Guardianship over Goods and Chattels. When such an Impostor has once forfeited the Credit of his Doctrin, ’tis a shrew’d Temptation to his Disciples to question the very Authority of his Commission, and to take the Stories he tells ’em of the next World, to be no better then a Trick of Spiriting Men away into a Fool’s Paradise: But when he comes once to be Detected, he has either the Wolf or the Devil to bring him off again.

Fab. CCCLXVII. A Priest and a Sick Man.

A Priest that was willing to give a Sick Man a Word of Comfort in his Extreme Misery, told him, That whom the Lord loves he Chastens. ’Tis no wonder he has so few Faithful Servants then, says the Poor Man; and I’m afraid he’ll e’en have Fewer if he goes this way to work.

The Moral.

Ignorance is some sort of Excuse, for a Man that Speaks or does an Ill thing, with a good Intention, or without Understanding that he does or says Amiss.

REFLEXION.

A Man should no more commit such a Freak as this is, to the Publick, without somewhat of a Caution or Controul upon’t, then he would throw Rats-bane up and down a House where Children and Fools might come at it: For there are Liquorish and Inconsiderate Readers, as well as Children, and the one is in as much danger of Mistaking Evil for Good, as the other is of taking a Dose of Mercury, for a Sweetmeat. As for Example, here’s a Lewd, Atheistical Fancy expos’d at Random, which some People will be forward enough to take, as it stands Uncorrected, for a very fine thing said, and by that means give some sort of Reputation to a Liberty that is not upon any terms to be endured. Now we are in Charity to presume, that the Author never intended this Extravagant Instance for a President, and therefore the Imperfection of the Fable, must be help’d out by some Pertinent Application of it in an Instructive Moral.

The Doctrin that arises from this Text, will fall under the Topick of the Government of the Tongue, and reach, in the Latitude, to all the Transports and Excesses of that Unruly Member: as Blasphemy, Calumny, Scurrility, Prophaneness, False, Vain, and Evil-Speaking, and the like; which are all naturally enough reducible to the same Head, as they do effectually proceed from the same Root. He that has gotten a Habit of letting his Tongue run before his Wit, will rather lose his Honour or his Friend, then his Jest; nay, and venture his Salvation over and above too, into the Bargain. As in the Case here before us, where we have a Libertine Fooling even in his Last Agonies, with a Witticism betwixt his Teeth, without any regard to the Circumstances of Sobriety and Conscience. But this is a Wickedness only for Profligates and Madmen, to make Sport with, and Men of better Sense to Tremble at; for there must be no Quibling and Trifling with the Majesty and Judgments of the Almighty.

Fab. CCCLXVIII. A Physician that Cur’d Mad-Men.

There was a Physician in Milan that took upon him to Cure Madmen; and his way was this: They were Ty’d Naked to a Stake, and then set up-right in a Nasty Puddle, Deeper or Shallower, according to the degree of the Distemper; and there to continue, till betwixt Cold and Hunger they might be brought to their Wits again. There was one among the rest, that after Fifteen Days Soking, began to shew some Signs of Amendment; and so got leave of the Keeper for the Liberty of the Court, and the House, upon condition not to set Foot over the Threshold of the Street-Doors. He past his Promise, and was as good as his Word.

As he was standing one Day at the Outer-Gate, there came a Falkner Riding by, with his Kites and his Curs, and all his Hawking Trade about him. Heark ye Sir, says the Mad-Man, a word with you: And so he fell to asking him Twenty Idle Questions, What was this, and what was that, and t’other? And what was all this good for? and the like. The Gentleman gave him an Answer to every thing in Form. As for Example, This that I Ride upon, (says he) is a Horse that I keep for my Sport; and this Bird upon my Fist is a Hawk that Catches me Quails and Partridges; and those Dogs are Spaniels to spring my Game. That’s well, says the Fool, and what may all the Birds be worth now, that you catch in a Twelve Month? Why it may be some Ten or Fifteen Pound perhaps, says t’other. Ay but (says the Mad Fellow again,) what may all your Hawks, Dogs, and Horses cost you in a Year? Some Fifteen times as much perchance, says the Falkner. Get you out of the way then immediately (cries the Fool,) before our Doctor gets sight of you; for if he sowc’d me up to the Middle in the Pond, you’ll be in as sure as a Gun up to the Ears if he can but set Eye on ye.

The Moral.

Every Man living is Mad in some respect or other, and the Doctors themselves as Mad as the Patients.

REFLEXION.

This Story gives us to understand in the Application of it, that there are more Mad-men out of Bedlam than in’t; and that according to Horace, We are all Mad, every Mother’s Child of us, more or less; and therefore ’tis but Neighbourly Justice for One Mad-man to bear with another. ’Twas well enough said of a Fellow in a Mad-House that was ask’d in the Interval of his Distemper how he came to be there? Why, says he, The Mad Folks abroad are too many for us, and so they have Master’d all the Sober People, and Coop’d ’em up here. There’s an Alienation of Mind in the Moral, as well as in the Physical Acceptation of the Expression: and he’s as Mad a Man that abuses his Reason, as he that has lost the Exercise of it: Beside, that there’s as great a Diversity of Freak and Extravagancy in the one Sense as in the other; and they have their Paroxisms and their Intermissions both alike. Every Man Living in fine, has his weak side, and ’tis but striking the right Vein to set the Humour a Working.

The General Doctrin of this Parable, we find summ’d up in a very few Words here: that is to say, he that eagerly pursues any thing, and gives more for’t then it is worth, is no better then a Mad-man. Now the way to make a true Estimate both of the Price and of the Purchase, is only to set the one against the other, and so to Ballance the Account. One Mans Head runs Riot upon Hawks, Hounds, Dice, Drabs, Drinking, Revelling, and for Brevity sake, we may e’en take in the whole Roll of Good Natur’d Sins and Pleasures, (if I may call them so,) that may serve to Gratifie a Sensual Appetite. Let but a Man consider now the Time, Mony, Care, Labour, and Vexation that this Wild-Goose-Chase has cost him, and then say to himself on the other hand, what have I gotten to answer all this Expense, but the Loose, Giddy Frolick of a few Mad Hours, attended with Claps, Gouts, Palsies, Infamy, Beggary, Nauseous Qualms, Surfeiting Satieties, Anxiety of Thought and Conscience, and all attended with the Anguish of a Late and Unprofitable Repentance in the Conclusion? And it is the same thing too with the Diabolical Transports of Ambition, Pride, Envy, Revenge, and the like; over and above the Irreparable Loss of a Thousand Blessed Opportunities, to the extreme Hazard of Eternity it self. When ’tis come to this once, there’s no way but the Doctor’s Discipline; that is to say, Mortification and Affliction to bring us to our selves again.

Fab. CCCLXIX. A Country Fellow Climbing a Tree.

A Country Fellow got an Unlucky Tumble from a Tree: Why this ’tis, (says a Passenger,) when People will be doing things Hand over Head, without either Fear or Wit: Now could I have taught you a way to climb a Thousand Trees, and never hurt your self with a Fall. Alas, says t’other, the Advice comes too late for this Bout, but let’s have it however; for a body may be the better for’t another time. Why then (says the Traveller,) You must take care for the future, whenever you Climb another Tree; that you come no faster down than you went up.

The Moral.

Do nothing Rashly.

REFLEXION.

’Tis Good Counsel rather to take Time and Leisure in matters that will bear it, then to venture Neck and All with overmuch Hast.

All Rash and Aspiring Humours, fall under the Reproof of this Moral; for there are Climbers in State, as well as in Woods and Orchards; and Favourites run as great a Risque in Mounting to Honours, Charges and Preferments, as the Fellow did here in Climbing an Apple-Tree. Their Rise is commonly Gentle and Step by Step; but when they are once up, they are in danger of falling down again by their own Weight: Wherefore Slow and Sure in these Cases, is good Counsel. ’Tis a Roguy kind of a Saying, that He that will be Rich before Night, may be Hang’d before Noon. High Places are Slippery, and it turns the very Brain of a Man to look down from ’em. He that first call’d Experience the Mistress of Fools, might at the same time have told us upon the Opposition, that Nature is the Mistress of Wise Men: Only the one looks forward from the Causes into the Effects, and the other traces the Truth, and the Reason of Things backward, from the Effects up to their Causes. That is to say, the one Teaches us Wit, by shewing us where we play’d the Fool, and the other Teaches us Wit, by keeping us before-hand from Playing the Fool at all. To apply this Moral to the Fable now, the stress of it rests upon the matter of Foresight, and After-Wit, and the Doctrin tells us, that he that wants the one, must make his Best of the other: This was the very Case of the Man in the Orchard here, before and after his Fall. Now Nature does nothing by Starts and Leaps, or in a Hurry, as we say; but all her Motions are Gradual, Regular, and without Noise, which may serve us for a Lesson, and a President, not to do any thing Rashly.

Fab. CCCLXX. One that had Lost his Mony and Cloaths at Play.

A Fellow that had lost his Mony and Cloaths at Play, stood sniv’ling at a Tavern Door, to think what would become of him. One of his Acquaintance came to him, and asked him what he Cry’d for? For Nothing says he. How come you to Cry then, says t’other, if you have nothing to Trouble you? Why for that very Reason, says he, because I have Nothing. Now the one took it that he had no Reason to Cry, and the other meant that he Cry’d because he had nothing left him.

The Moral.

Cautions are as Instructive as Precepts; the one shews us what we are not to do, and the other what we are.

REFLEXION.

This Quirk is little better then the Childrens Play of Riddle me, Riddle me; though the Conceit I know is Celebrated among the Apothegms of the Ancients. The Mony and the Cloaths were Lost on purpose to make way for the Jest; as the Gentleman dropt his Book into the River, off of Maudlin Bridge in Cambridge: What’s that, says one of his Acquaintance that was passing by? Alas, says t’other, ’tis Just In; now the Book was Justin. We may observe from hence, what Pains some Men take to make themselves Ridiculous, and that Study may Emprove a Coxcomb as well as a Philosopher. We may learn further, that Men do not know when they are well, or when they have enough; but shift and squander till they would half Hang themselves at last, to be where they were again. It may be another Note too, the Unreasonableness of Jesting in Cases of Distress: So that the Figure at last is Fool all over. Upon the whole, the Fellow Plays, and loses his very Back-side, and then Cries: And what is all this more now, then the laying of a Train for the bringing in by Head and Shoulders the miserable Conceit of Nothing upon Nothing.

Fab. CCCLXXI. A Blinkard Buying of Wheat.

Upon a time when there was an Extreme Scarcity of Corn in Florence, a Poor Wretch with One Eye, was sent to the Market with a great Sack, to Buy such a Provision of Wheat: He goes to his Corn-Merchant, and asks him the Price of so many Measures. Why, says he, one of these Measures is as much as one of your Eyes is worth; (meaning, that Wheat was very Dear.) Why then cries an Unlucky Wag, that stood by there, A less Bag methinks might have serv’d your Turn, for One of those Measures is as much as you are able to pay for.

The Moral.

A Jeering Buffon is the common Enemy of Mankind.

REFLEXION.

It is a high Point of Ill Nature and Ill Manners, to make Sport with any Man’s Imperfections, that he cannot help; and it holds as well too in the case of our Misfortunes, if we have not brought them upon our selves by our own Fault. ’Tis enough, where anything of this falls out one way or t’other, that Providence and Nature will have it so: But Intemperate Wits will spare neither Friend nor Foe; and make themselves the common Enemies of Mankind. Men that are given to this Licentious Humour of Scoffing at Personal Blemishes and Defects, should do well methinks to look into themselves a little, and begin their Animadversions at Home; for which is the Greater Scandal, the want of Charity, Modesty, Humanity; or the want of an Eye? ’Tis the Reasonable Soul that makes the Man, not the Body; and a Deformity in the Nobler Part is Ten Thousand Times more liable to Reproche, then an Imperfection in the other. We are not answerable for our Persons, but for our Manners we are. The Scorner should do well also to consider upon the Sight of a Cripple, or a Monster, that it was only the Distinguishing Mercy of Heaven that kept him from being one too; and not render himself by his Ingratitude the more Abominable Monster of the Two. The Boy in fine, did very Ill, and if he had but been soundly Whipt for’t, it would have Perfected the Morality of the Fable.

Fab. CCCLXXII. A Country-man with his Asses.

A Country-man that had been at Market with his Corn, and was Driving his Asses Home again, Mounted one of the Best of them to Ease himself: When he was up, he fell to Counting, and so kept Telling them over and over, all the way he went, but still wanted one of his Number. Upon this, away he goes to the Market Town, whence he came (a matter of Seven Miles off, back again,) Enquiring of all he met, if any Body had seen his Ass. He could learn no Tydings of him, and so Home he went, Late at Night, as arrant a Fool, as he set out. The Loss went to the Heart of him, but upon Alighting, and his Wives giving him the Hint, he found his Beast again, and that the Ass he rode upon was forgot in the Reckoning.

The Moral.

The Butcher look’d for his Knife when he had it in his Mouth.

REFLEXION.

’Tis many a man’s Case, to fancy that he wants what in Truth he has; and then to Tire himself out with Hunting after it Abroad, when he carries it about him all this while, and may have it better Cheap at Home. The bare Supposal of one Petty Loss, makes us unthankful for all that’s left. We are naturally apt to think our Selves Miserable, and the very thinking so, makes us so. This Conceit puts us upon the Ramble up and down for Relief, (and all in vain too,) ’till very Weariness brings us at last to our selves again, where we find the Ass we sought for, and the Cure of all our Misfortunes in our own Breasts. A Man may be so intent upon one thing, as to heed nothing else, as he that spent half a day to look for his Odd Stocking, when he had them both upon a Leg.

Fab. CCCLXXIII. A Man that Carried his Plough to Ease his Oxen.

A Peasant that had Plow’d himself and his Oxen quite a Weary, Mounted an Ass, with the Plough before him, and sent the Oxen to Dinner: The Poor Ass, he found was ready to Sink under the Load, and so he took up the Plough and laid it upon his own Shoulders. Now, says he to the Ass, Thou mayst carry Me well enough, when I carry the Plough.

The Moral.

Some Brute Animals, have more understanding then some Men.

REFLEXION.

Man and Wife are in many Cases the Ploughman here, and his Ass; they think to Ease one another, not considering that what either of them bears, is a common Burden to both. There was a Fudling Couple that sold Ale, and their Humour was to Drink Drunk Hand to Fist, upon their own Liquor: They laid down their Club still for what they had, and this they called Forcing a Trade. Now so long as the Tipple was paid for, all went merrily on they thought, without ever so much as Dreaming that ’twas at their own Cost. ’Tis much thereabouts betwixt Rulers and Subjects: The Prince may carry the Plough perhaps, but the weight of both Plough and Prince lies upon the Peoples Shoulders.