The 'Squire heard Truth. Now Yap rufh'd in; The wide hall echoes with his din;
Yet Truth prevail'd; and, with disgrace,
The dog was cudgel'd out of place.
THE COUNTRYMAN AND JUPITER.
To Myfelf.
HAVE you a friend (look round and spy)
So fond, fo prepoffefs'd as I?
Your faults, fo obvious to mankind,
My partial eyes could never find.
When, by the breath of Fortune blown,
Your airy caftles were o'erthrown,
Have I been ever prone to blame,
Or mortify'd your hours with fhame?
Was I e'er known to damp your spirit,
Or twit you with the want of merit ?
'Tis not fo frange that Fortune's frown
Still perfeveres to keep you down.
Look round, and fee what others do.
Would you be rich and honeft too?
Have you (like thofe fhe rais'd to place)
Been opportunely mean and bafe?
Have you (as times requir'd) refign'd
Truth, honour, virtue, peace of mind?
If thefe are fcruples, give her o'er;
Write, practife 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.
the mifer's hoarded ftore,
As grows
His fears, his wants, increafe the more.
Think, Gay, (what ne'er may be the cafe)
Would that your happiness augment ?
What can fhe give beyond content?
Suppofe yourfelf a wealthy heir,
With a vaft annual income clear!
In all the affluence you poffefs,
You might not feel one care the lefs.
Might you not then (like others) find
With change of fortune change of mind?
Perhaps, profufe beyond all rule,
You might start out a glaring fool;
Your luxury might break all bounds:
Plate, table, horfes, ftewards, hounds,
Might fwell
your debts then, luft of play
No regal income can defray.
Sunk is all credit, writs affail,
And doom your future life to gaol.
Or, were you dignify'd with power,
Would that avert one penfive hour ?
You might give avarice its fwing,
Defraud a nation, blind a king:
Then, from the hirelings in your caufe
Though daily fed with falfe applaufe,
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Could it a real joy impart?
Great guilt knew never joy at heart.
Is happiness your point in view?
(I mean th' intrinfic and the true)
She nor in camps or courts refides,
Nor in the humble cottage hides;
Yet found alike in every sphere;
Who finds content, will find her there.
O'erfpent with toil, beneath the fhade,
A Peafant refted on his fpade.
"Good Gods! he cries, 'tis hard to bear
This load of life from year to year!
Soon as the morning ftreaks the skies,
Induftrious Labour bids me rife;
With fweat I earn my homely fare,
And every day renews my care.'
Jove heard the difcontented ftrain,
And thus rebuk'd the murmuring fwain.
"Speak out your wants, then, honeft Friend:
Unjuft complaints the gods offend.
If you repine at partial Fate,
Inftruct me what could mend your state.
Mankind in every station fee.
What with you? tell me what you'd be."
So faid, upborne upon a cloud,
The Clown furvey'd the anxious crowd.
"Yon' face of care, fays Jove, behold,
His bulky bags are fill'd with gold.
See with what joy he counts it o'er !
That fum to-day hath fwell'd his ftore."
"Were I that man, (the Peafant cry'd) What bleffing could I ask beside ?"
"Hold, fays the God; first learn to know True happiness from outward show. This optic glafs of intuition
Here, take it, view his true condition."
He look'd, and faw the mifer's breast
A troubled ocean, ne'er at reft;
Want ever stares him in the face,
And fear anticipates difgrace:
With confcious guilt he saw him start;
Extortion gnaws his throbbing heart;
And never, or in thought or dream,
His breaft admits one happy gleam.
"May Jove, he cries, reject my prayer,
And guard my life from guilt and care!
My foul abhors that wretch's fate.
O keep me in my humble state!
But fee, amidst a gawdy crowd,
Yon' minifter fo gay and proud;
On him what happiness attends,
Who thus rewards his grateful friends !”
"Firft take the glafs, the God replies;
Man views the world with partial eyes."
“Good Gods! exclaims the ftartled wight, 105-
Defend me from this hideous fight!
Corruption with corrofive fiart
Lies cankering on his guilty heart:
I fee him with polluted hand
Spread the contagion o'er the land..
Now Avarice with infatiate jaws,
Now Rapine with her harpy claws,
His bofom tears. His confcious breaft
Groans with a load of crimes oppieft.
See him, mad and drunk with power,
Stand tottering on Ambition's tower.
Sometimes, in fpeeches vain and proud,
His boafts infult the nether crowd;
Now, feiz'd with giddinefs and fear,
He trembles left his fall is near."
"Was ever wretch like this! he cries;
Such mifery in fuch difguife!
The change, O Jove! I difavow;
Still be my lot the fpade and plough."
He next, confirm'd by fpeculation,
Rejects the lawyer's occupation;
For he the fatefman feem'd in part,
And bore fimilitude of heart.
Nor did the foldier's trade inflame
His hopes with thirft of fpoil and fame.
The neries of war he mourn'd;
Whole nations into deferts turn'd.
"By thefe have laws and rights been brav'd; By thefe was free-born man enflav'd<
When battles and invafion cease,
Why fwarm they in the lands of peace?
Such change (fays he) may I decline;
The fcythe and civil arms be mine !"
Thus, weighing life in each condition,
The Clown withdrew his rafh petition.
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