A BEE, compelled by thirst, went to drink in a clear purling rivulet; but the current, with its circling eddy, snatched her away, and carried her down the stream. A Dove, pitying her distressed condition, cropt a branch from a neighbouring tree, and let it fall into the water, by means of which the Bee saved herself, and got ashore. Not long after, a Fowler, having a design upon the Dove, planted his nets and all his little artillery in due order, without the bird's observing what he was about; which the Bee perceiving, just as he was going to put his design in execution she stung him on the cheek, and made him give so sudden a start, that the Dove took the alarm, and flew away. REFLECTION. One good turn deserves another; and gratitude is no excited by so noble and natural a spirit, that he ought to be looked upon as the vilest of creatures, who has sense of it. It is, indeed, so very just and equitable a thing, and so much every man's duty, that to speak of it properly one should not mention it as any thing meritorious, or that may claim praise and admiration, any more than we should say a man ought to be rewarded or commended for not killing his father, or forbearing to set fire to his neighbour's house. The bright and shining piece of morality, therefore, which is recommended to us in this fable, is set forth in this example of the Dove, who, without any obligation or expectation, does a voluntary office of charity to its fellow creature in distress. Two Horses were travelling the road together; one loaded with a sack of flour, the other with a sum of money. The latter, proud of his splendid burthen, tossed up his head with an air of conscious superiority, and every now and then cast a look of contempt upon his humble companion. In passing through a wood, they were met by a gang of highwaymen, who immediately seized upon the horse that was carrying the treasure: but the spirited steed not being altogether disposed to stand so quietly as was necessary for their purpose, they beat him most unmercifully, and after plundering him of his boasted load, left him to lament at his leisure the cruel bruises which he had received. "Friend," says his despised companion to him, (who had now reason to triumph in his turn,) "distinguished posts are often dangerous to those who possess them : |