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A Fox, in life's extreme decay,
Weak, sick, and faint, expiring lay;
All appetite had left his maw,
And age disarm'd his mumbling jaw.1
His numerous race around him stand,
To learn their dying sire's command:
He raised his head with whining moan,
And thus was heard the feeble tone:

"Ah, sons! from evil ways depart; My crimes lie heavy on my heart.

(1) "Frangendus misero gingivâ panis inermi."-Juv.

See, see the murder'd geese appear!
Why are those bleeding turkeys there?
Why all around this cackling train,
Who haunt my ears for chicken slain?"
The hungry Foxes round them stared,
And for the promised feast prepared.

66

Where, Sir, is all this dainty cheer?
Nor turkey, goose, nor hen, is here:
These are the phantoms of your brain,
And your sons lick their lips in vain.”
"O gluttons!" says the drooping sire,
"Restrain inordinate desire:

Your liquorish taste you shall deplore,
When peace of conscience is no more.
Does not the hound betray our pace,
And gins and guns destroy our race?
Thieves dread the searching eye of power,
And never feel the quiet hour.1

Old age (which few of us shall know)
Now puts a period to my woe.

Would you true happiness attain,
Let honesty your passions rein;
So live in credit and esteem,

And the good name you lost, redeem.” 2
"The counsel's good," a Fox replies,
"Could we perform what you advise.
Think what our ancestors have done?
A line of thieves from son to son:

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(2)

Mens habet attonitos et surdo verbere cædit."-Juv. "Good name in man or woman,

Is the immediate jewel of our souls."-SHAK. Othello.

To us descends the long disgrace,

And infamy hath mark'd our race.

Though we, like harmless sheep, should feed,
Honest in thought, in word, and deed;
Whatever hen-roost is decreased,

We shall be thought to share the feast.
The change shall never be believed:
A lost good name is ne'er retrieved."

"Nay, then," replies the feeble Fox;
"But, hark! I hear a hen that clucks:
Go, but be moderate in your food:

A chicken, too, might do me good."1

(1) This fable of hypocrisy somewhat resembles Fable XXVII. except in the additional feature here exhibited, of the fancy which besets men that they have forsaken their vices, when really they are too old to practise them. Also there is a fine touch in the second fox's reply, alluding, not merely to the loss of a good name being irretrievable, but also to the obstacle placed in the way of repentance, by the exhibition towards it of an unwise and ungenerous suspicion. It is doubtless well to be on our guard against dissemblers, still we too often oppose the return to good of the really sincere, by recording past offences with prejudice, as if we disliked to facilitate the progress of virtuous recovery; yet, "true repentance never comes too late.

As soon as born, she makes herself a shroud,
And swift as thought her airy journey takes;

Her hand heaven's azure gate with trembling strikes ;

She tells her story in so sad a tone,

That angels start from bliss, and give a groan."-LEE, Mass. of Par.

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THE ranging Dog the stubble tries,
And searches every breeze that flies.
The scent grows warm; with cautious fear
He
creeps, and points the covey near;
The men in silence, far behind,
Conscious of game the net unbind.
A Partridge, with experience wise,
The fraudful preparation spies;

She mocks their toils, alarms her brood,
The covey springs, and seeks the wood;
But, ere her certain wing she tries,
Thus to the creeping Spaniel cries:
"Thou fawning slave to man's deceit,
Thou pimp of luxury, sneaking cheat,
Of thy whole species, thou disgrace,
Dogs should disown thee of their race!
For if I judge their native parts,
They're born with honest, open hearts;
And, ere they served man's wicked ends,
Were generous foes, or real friends."

When thus the Dog, with scornful smile:
"Secure of wing, thou darest revile.
Clowns are to polish'd manners blind:
How ignorant is the rustic mind!
My worth sagacious courtiers see,
And to preferment rise like me.
The thriving pimp, who beauty sets,
Hath oft enhanced a nation's debts;

1

Friend sets his friend, without regard,
And ministers his skill reward:

Thus train'd by man, I learnt his ways,
And growing favour feasts my days."

"I might have guess'd," the Partridge said,
"The place where you were train'd and fed;
Servants are apt, and in a trice
Ape to a hair their master's vice.

(1) The meaning here attached to this word, "set," as in the line but one above, is to betray; the metaphor being obviously taken from the act of a dog discovering game. The noun "setter" is used in the same sense by Poins, speaking of Gadshill, Hen. IV. Part I. Act ii. Scene 2.

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