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;
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.

You came from court, you say-Adieu!"
She said, and to the covey flew.1

(1) Climbing and crawling are performed in almost the same posture, and by the use of pretty nearly the same muscles; we need not wonder then if, in a similar way, ambition should employ the grovelling attitudes of sycophancy. With his usual bitterness against court intrigue, engendered by his own disappointment, Gay here attacks the servility with which the courtier fawns upon his patron, and the treachery which is ever ready, in the pernicious atmosphere of a court, to poison and betray friendship. Moreover, he alludes to the exact reflection of the vices of the upper classes, which the lower strive to exhibit, though those will admit, who have mixed much in upper society, that the grossest vulgarity of feeling, if not of manner, is frequently found amongst people of highest rank. "A grain of honesty," says Lord Shaftesbury, "or native worth, is of more value than all the adventitious ornaments, estates, or preferments, for the sake of which, some of the better sort, so oft turn knaves, forsaking their principles, and quitting their honour and freedom, for a mean, timorous, shifting state, of gaudy servitude."-Vide CHARACTERISTICS.

A RAKE, by every passion ruled,
With every vice his youth had cool'd;
Disease his tainted blood assails,
His spirits droop, his vigour fails:
With secret ills at home he pines,
And, like infirm old age, declines.
As twinged with pain, he pensive sits,
And
raves, and prays, and swears, by fits;

A ghastly phantom, lean and wan,
Before him rose, and thus began:

"My name, perhaps, hath reach'd your ear; Attend, and be advised by Care.

Nor love, nor honour, wealth, nor pow'r,
Can give the heart a cheerful hour

When health is lost. Be timely wise:
With health all taste of pleasure flies."1
Thus said, the Phantom disappears.
The wary counsel waked his fears:
He now from all excess abstains,
With physic purifies his veins;
And, to procure a sober life,
Resolves to venture on a wife.

But now again the Sprite ascends—
Where'er he walks his ear attends;
Insinuates that beauty's frail,

That perseverance must prevail;
With jealousies his brain inflames,
And whispers all her lovers' names.
In other hours she represents
His household charge, his annual rents,
Increasing debts, perplexing duns,
And nothing for his younger sons.

Straight all his thought to gain he turns,

And with the thirst of lucre burns.
But, when possess'd of fortune's store,
The Spectre haunts him more and more;

(1) Cowley calls health

"The salt of life, which does to all a relish give,
Its standing pleasure and intrinsic wealth,
The body's virtue and the soul's good fortune."