_120 'Ye hirelings, hence,' the leopard cries; 'Your venal conscience I despise.

He who the public good intends, By bribes needs never purchase friends.

Who acts this just, this open part, Is propp'd by every honest heart.

Corruption now too late hath showed, That bribes are always ill-bestowed, By you your bubbled master's taught, Time-serving tools, not friends, are bought.'

_130

FABLE X.

THE DEGENERATE BEES.

TO THE REVEREND DR SWIFT, DEAN OF ST PATRICK'S.

Though Courts the practice disallow, A friend at all times I'll avow.

In politics I know 'tis wrong: A friendship may be kept too long; And what they call the prudent part, Is to wear interest next the heart, As the times take a different face, Old friendships should to new give place.

I know too you have many foes, That owning you is sharing those, _10 That every knave in every station, Of high and low denomination, For what you speak, and what you write, Dread you at once, and bear you spite.

Such freedoms in your works are shown They can't enjoy what's not their own; All dunces too, in church and state, In frothy nonsense show their hate; With all the petty scribbling crew, (And those pert sots are not a few,) _20 'Gainst you and Pope their envy spurt, The booksellers alone are hurt.

Good G.o.ds! by what a powerful race (For blockheads may have power and place) Are scandals raised and libels writ!

To prove your honesty and wit!

Think with yourself: Those worthy men, You know, have suffered by your pen.

From them you've nothing but your due.

From thence, 'tis plain, your friends are few.

_30 Except myself, I know of none, Besides the wise and good alone.

To set the case in fairer light, My fable shall the rest recite; Which (though unlike our present state) I for the moral's sake relate.

A bee of cunning, not of parts, Luxurious, negligent of arts, Rapacious, arrogant, and vain, Greedy of power, but more of gain, _40 Corruption sowed throughout the hive, By petty rogues the great ones thrive.

As power and wealth his views supplied, 'Twas seen in over-bearing pride.

With him loud impudence had merit; The bee of conscience wanted spirit; And those who followed honour's rules, Were laughed to scorn for squeamish fools, Wealth claimed distinction, favour, grace; And poverty alone was base.

_50 He treated industry with slight, Unless he found his profit by't.

Eights, laws, and liberties gave way, To bring his selfish schemes in play.

The swarm forgot the common toil, To share the gleanings of his spoil.

'While vulgar souls of narrow parts, Waste life in low mechanic arts, Let us,' says he, 'to genius born, The drudgery of our fathers scorn.

_60 The wasp and drone, you must agree, Live with more elegance than we.

Like gentlemen they sport and play; No business interrupts the day; Their hours to luxury they give, And n.o.bly on their neighbours live.'

A stubborn bee, among the swarm, With honest indignation warm, Thus from his cell with zeal replied: 'I slight thy frowns, and hate thy pride.

_70 The laws our native rights protect; Offending thee, I those respect.

Shall luxury corrupt the hive, And none against the torrent strive?

Exert the honour of your race; He builds his rise on your disgrace.

'Tis industry our state maintains: 'Twas honest toils and honest gains That raised our sires to power and fame.

Be virtuous; save yourselves from shame.

_80 Know, that in selfish ends pursuing, You scramble for the public ruin.'

He spoke; and from his cell dismissed, Was insolently scoffed and hissed.

With him a friend or two resigned, Disdaining the degenerate kind.

'These drones,' says he, 'these insects vile, (I treat them in their proper style,) May for a time oppress the state, They own our virtue by their hate; _90 By that our merits they reveal, And recommend our public zeal; Disgraced by this corrupted crew, We're honoured by the virtuous few.'

FABLE XI.

THE PACK-HORSE AND THE CARRIER.

TO A YOUNG n.o.bLEMAN.

Begin, my lord, in early youth, To suffer, nay, encourage truth: And blame me not for disrespect, If I the flatterer's style reject; With that, by menial tongues supplied, You're daily c.o.c.ker'd up in pride.

The tree's distinguished by the fruit, Be virtue then your sole pursuit; Set your great ancestors in view, Like them deserve the t.i.tle too; _10 Like them ign.o.ble actions scorn: Let virtue prove you greatly born.

Though with less plate their sideboard shone, Their conscience always was their own; They ne'er at levees meanly fawned, Nor was their honour yearly p.a.w.ned; Their hands, by no corruption stained, The ministerial bribe disdained; They served the crown with loyal zeal; Yet, jealous of the public weal, _20 They stood the bulwark of our laws, And wore at heart their country's cause; By neither place or pension bought, They spoke and voted as they thought.

Thus did your sires adorn their seat; And such alone are truly great.

If you the paths of learning slight, You're but a dunce in stronger light; In foremost rank the coward placed, Is more conspicuously disgraced.

_30 If you to serve a paltry end, To knavish jobs can condescend, We pay you the contempt that's due; In that you have precedence too.

Whence had you this ill.u.s.trious name?

From virtue and unblemished fame.

By birth the name alone descends; Your honour on yourself depends: Think not your coronet can hide a.s.suming ignorance and pride.

_40 Learning by study must be won, 'Twas ne'er entailed from son to son.

Superior worth your rank requires; For that mankind reveres your sires; If you degenerate from your race, Their merits heighten your disgrace.

A carrier, every night and morn, Would see his horses eat their corn: This sunk the hostler's vails, 'tis true; But then his horses had their due.

_50 Were we so cautious in all cases, Small gain would rise from greater places.

The manger now had all its measure; He heard the grinding teeth with pleasure; When all at once confusion rung; They snorted, jostled, bit, and flung: A pack-horse turned his head aside, Foaming, his eye-b.a.l.l.s swelled with pride.

'Good G.o.ds!' says he, 'how hard's my lot!

Is then my high descent forgot?

_60 Reduced to drudgery and disgrace, (A life unworthy of my race,) Must I too bear the vile attacks Of rugged scrubs, and vulgar hacks?

See scurvy Roan, that brute ill-bred, Dares from the manger thrust my head!

Shall I, who boast a n.o.ble line, On offals of these creatures dine?

Kicked by old Ball! so mean a foe!

My honour suffers by the blow.

_70 Newmarket speaks my grandsire's fame, All jockies still revere his name: There yearly are his triumphs told, There all his ma.s.sy plates enrolled.

Whene'er led forth upon the plain, You saw him with a livery train; Returning too with laurels crowned, You heard the drums and trumpets sound.

Let it then, sir, be understood, Respect's my due; for I have blood.'

_80 'Vain-glorious fool!' the carrier cried, 'Respect was never paid to pride.

Know, 'twas thy giddy wilful heart Reduced thee to this slavish part.

Did not thy headstrong youth disdain To learn the conduct of the rein?

Thus c.o.xcombs, blind to real merit, In vicious frolics fancy spirit.

What is't to me by whom begot?

Thou restive, pert, conceited sot.

_90 Your sires I reverence; 'tis their due: But, worthless fool, what's that to you?

Ask all the carriers on the road, They'll say thy keeping's ill bestowed.

Then vaunt no more thy n.o.ble race, That neither mends thy strength or pace.

What profits me thy boast of blood?

An a.s.s hath more intrinsic good.

By outward show let's not be cheated; An a.s.s should like an a.s.s be treated.'

_100

FABLE XII.

PAN AND FORTUNE.