Thus every care will sink and drown, Whilst mirth and joy run laughing round. I seem a monarch while I drink so,

And you

'll be a god do you but think so."

Here bursts the Goat into a laugh,
And thus beginning with a scoff:
"Doubtless," said he, "it must be fine
T'exalt a nasty, dirty swine,
To such a height in fancying,
As to believe himself a King.

But that which thus perverts our senses
Can have, I think, but small pretences
To recommend it to our favour,
As pleasure of the truest flavour.
Nature, methinks, should guide in this,
Who seems t' have shewn the highest bliss,
In having plac'd the sweetest gust,
In gratifying natural lust.

And that 'tis the sublimest joy,
I think's so plain none can deny.
Witness the mad tormenting pain,
When disappointed, we sustain.
Witness how eagerly we press on,
Witness our raptures in possession.'

But here the Leopard, rising slow,
Expos'd his beauteous spots to show,
And with a grave majestic face,
Thus gave his verdict in the case:
"Pleasure consists not in such short
Imperfect transitory sport,

Of which the pains we're at to get it,
O'erpays the bliss when we come at it;

Nor can it e'er be call'd true joy,
With such a mixture of alloy.

No, that must be the most refin'd

Which most exalts and charms the mind;
And nothing sure more charming is,
Than honour, pomp, and dignities,
Than grandeur and magnificence,
Than sumptuous trains and vast expense,
Than place, distinction, and perferment,
And when we die, a grand interment."

At this the Horse, with noble look,
Raising his crested neck, thus spoke:
"That merit should be rais'd on high,
I think's so just none can deny;

But he who places all his bliss
In the external pomp of this,

Knows not what greatness, nor what pleasure is;
His judgment errs as much at least
As his who thinks that painting best
Which is in gaudiest colours drest.
Of both we may affirm the same,
Their taste lies only in the gilded frame.
I grant preferment, honour, place,
Are rising steps to happiness;

But whilst we 're upwards thus aspiring,
We're anxious still, and still desiring.
To act with an unbounded will,

Can only our desires fulfil;

Whence, the highest bliss, in my opinion,
Must be in power and dominion."

Thus all their various sense exprest,
And each advis'd what he thought best;

But still what each as best esteem'd

Was by the next that spoke condemn'd:
Meanwhile the savage monarch sate,
Attentive to the warm debate;
The nature saw, without disguise,
Of every beast in his advice.
But soon the disputants grew rude,
Confusion, noise, tumultuous feud.
Enrage the jarring multitude.
Till weary'd out, the royal beast
Thus spoke, and silenc'd all the rest :

"Cease, cease your vain contention, cease
Your shallow schemes of happiness;
Which only have confirm'd me more,
'Tis where I thought it was before.
Greatness is no establishment
Of real bliss, or true content;
Luxurious banquets soon disgust;
We're quickly pall'd with sensual lust:
Virtue alone can give true joy;
The sweets of virtue never cloy.
To take delight in doing good,
In justice, truth, and gratitude,
In aiding those whom cares oppress,
Administ'ring comfort to distress:
These, these are joys which all who prove
Anticipate the bliss above.

These are the joys, and these alone
We ne'er repent or wish undone."
He spoke; the beasts without delay
Rose from their seats, and sneak'd away.

STU

FABLE XX.

TUDIOUS from diff'ring tales to show
That virtue makes our bliss below,

My warning voice to ev'ry heart,
May ev'ry faithful ear impart ;
This one important truth believ'd,
Who can by vice be still deceiv'd?
Bliss is our aim, and bliss our end,
And he who points the path, a friend.
A Goat and Fox, by joint consent,
Together once a journey went;
With patient steps from morning's dawn,
They measur'd hill, and vale, and lawn ;
When Phoebus in the zenith rode,

A cheerless, pathless waste they trod ;
The fainting wand'rers wide around,
With sighs survey'd the burning ground;

Again, and yet again they look,
To find the welcome cooling brook;
The welcome cooling brook in vain
They sought around the sun-burnt plain.
Onward they slowly pass, when lo!
A pit-and water-deep below;
Urg'd by a strong desire to drink,
They both leap headlong from the brink.
For appetite still foremost goes,
Quite blind to all beyond its nose;
And reason, impotently kind,
A tardy friend, limps far behind.

Now when our pair had drunk amain,
They thought of getting out again;
And long with aching hearts they try'd,
But this the steep ascent denied.
Reynard at length the Goat addrest,
And thus his wily thought exprest:

"Courage, my friend-be rul'd by me,
We'll soon from this mischance be free;
Here of the pit the shallowest place,
On your hind legs your body raise,
And while thy horns my weight sustain,
At one light bound the shore I'll gain;
And thence effectual aid can lend
To save thee, too, my dearest friend?".

The Goat consents-and by his aid The Fox his leap successful made; His friend look'd up, well pleased no doubt, And deem'd himself as good as out;

But the false Fox with barb'rous sneer,

Cry'd, "Pox! how came you scrambling here?"