FIRST EDITION OF THE FABLES.
THE following Fables were written at intervals, when I found my self in humour, and disengaged from matter of greater moment. As they are the writings of an idle hour, so they are intended for the reading of those, whose only business is amusement. My hopes of profit or applause are not immoderate: nor have I printed through necessity, or request of friends. I have leave from her Royal Highness to address her, and I claim the Fair for my readers. My fears are lighter than my expectations: I wrote to please myself, and I publish to please others; and this so universally, that I have not wished for correctness to rob the critic of his censure, or my friend of his laugh.
My intimates are few, and I am not solicitous to increase them. I have learnt that where the writer would please, the man should be unknown. An author is the reverse of all other objects, and magnifies by distance, but diminishes by approach. His private attachments must give place to public favour; for no man can forgive his friend the ill
natured attempt of being thought wiser than himself.
To avoid, therefore, the misfortunes that may attend me from any accidental success, I think it necessary to inform those who know me, that I have been assisted in the following papers by the author of Gustavus Vasa.* Let the crime of pleasing be his, whose talents as a writer and whose virtues as a man, have rendered him a living affront to the whole circle of his acquaintance.
Henry Brooke, Esq. who contributed the Fables of the Spar row and Dove, the Female Seducers, and Love and Vanity, as has been pointed out in the European Magazine for August 1794.
EAGLE AND THE ASSEMBLY OF BIRDS.
TO HER ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCESS
THE moral lay to beauty due
I write, Fair Excellence! to you;
Well pleas'd to hope my vacant hours
Have been employ'd to sweeten yours.
Truth under fiction I impart,
To weed out folly from the heart,
And show the paths that lead astray
The wandering nymph from Wisdom's way.
I flatter none: the great and good
Are by their actions understood:
Your monument, if actions raise,
Shall I deface by idle praise?
I echo not the voice of Fame,
That dwells delighted on your name :
Her frindly tale, however true,
Were flattery, if I told it you.
The proud, the envious, and the vain,
The jilt, the prude, demand my strain :
To these, detesting praise, I write,
And vent in charity my spite:
With friendly hand I hold the glass
To all promiscuous as they pass;
Should Folly there her likeness view,
I fret not that the mirror's true :
If the fantastic form offend,
I made it not, but would amend.
Virtue, in every clime and age,
Spurns at the folly-soothing page;
While Satire, that offends the ear
Of Vice and Passion, pleases her.
Premising this, your anger spare,
And claim the Fable you who dare.
The birds in place, by factions press'd,
To Jupiter their pray'rs address'd:
By specious lies the state was vex'd,
Their counsels libellers perplex'd;
They begg'd (to stop seditious tongues)
A gracious hearing of their wrongs.
Jove grants their suit:-the Eagle sat
Decider of the grand debate.
The Pie, to trust and pow'r preferr'd,
Demands permission to be heard:
Says he, Prolixity of phrase
You know I hate. This libel says
"Some birds there are, who, prone to noise,
Are hir'd to silence Wisdom's voice;
And, skill'd to chatter out the hour,
Rise by their emptiness to pow'r."
That this is aim'd direct at me,
No doubt you'll readily agree;
Yet well this sage assembly knows
By parts to government. I rose;
My prudent councils prop the state;
Magpies were never known to prate.'
The Kite rose up; his honest heart
In virtue's sufferings bore a part:
That there were birds of prey he knew,
So far the libeller said true;
Voracious, bold, to rapine prone,
Who knew no interest but their own;
Who, hovering o'er the farmer's yard,
Nor pigeon, chick, nor duckling spar'd:
This might be true, but if applied
To him, in troth the slanderer lied:
Since ignorance then might be misled,
Such things he thought were best unsaid.'
The Crow was vex'd: 'As yester-morn
He flew across the new-sown corn,
A screaming boy was set for pay,
He knew to drive the crows away;
Scandal had found him out in turn,
And buzz'd about that crows love corn.'
The Owl arose with solemn face,
And thus harangu'd upon the case:
That Magpies prate, it may be true,
A Kite may be voracious too;
Crows sometimes deal in new-sown pease;
He libels not who strikes at these:
The slander's here-" But there are birds
Whose wisdom lies in looks not words,
Blunderers who level in the dark,
And always shoot beside the mark :"
He names not me, but these are hints
Which manifest at whom he squints;
I were indeed that blundering fowl,
To question, if he meant an owl?
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