I. THE SHEPHERD AND THE LION.'
Or fables judge not by their face;
They give the simplest brute a teacher's place.
Bare precepts were inert and tedious things;
The story gives them life and wings.
But story for the story's sake
Were sorry business for the wise;
As if, for pill that one should take,
You gave the sugary disguise.
For reasons such as these,
Full many writers great and good
Have written in this frolic mood,
And made their wisdom please.
But tinsel'd style they all have shunn'd with care;
With them one never sees a word to spare.
Of Phædrus some have blamed the brevity,
While Æsop uses fewer words than he.
A certain Greek,2 however, beats
Them both in his larconic feats.
Each tale he locks in verses four;
The well or ill I leave to critic lore.
At Esop's side to see him let us aim,
Upon a theme substantially the same.
2 A certain Greek.-Gabrias.-LA FONTAINE. This is Babrias, the Greek fabulist, to whom La Fontaine gives the older form of his name. La Fontaine's strictures on this "rival" of Æsop proceed from the fact that he read the author in the corrupted form of the edition by Ignatius Magister (ninth century). It was not till a century after La Fontaine wrote, that the fame of Babrias was cleared by Bentley and Tyrwhitt, who brought his Fables to light in their original form.
The one selects a lover of the chase;
A shepherd comes, the other's tale to grace.
Their tracks I keep, though either tale may grow
A little in its features as I go.
The one which Æsop tells is nearly this :-
A shepherd from his flock began to miss,
And long'd to catch the stealer of, his sheep.
Before a cavern, dark and deep,
Where wolves retired by day to sleep,
Which he suspected as the thieves,
He set his trap among the leaves;
And, ere he left the place,
He thus invoked celestial grace :-
'O king of all the powers divine,
Against the rogue but grant me this delight,
That this my trap may catch him in my sight,
And I, from twenty calves of mine,
Will make the fattest thine.'
But while the words were on his tongue,
Forth came a lion great and strong.
Down crouch'd the man of sheep, and said,
With shivering fright half dead,
'Alas! that man should never be aware
Of what may be the meaning of his prayer!
To catch the robber of my flocks,
O king of gods, I pledged a calf to thee:
If from his clutches thou wilt rescue me,
I'll raise my offering to an ox.'
'Tis thus the master-author1 tells the story:
Now hear the rival of his glory.
1 Master-author, &c.--The "master-author" is Esop; the rival, Gabrias, or Babrias. The last line refers the reader to the following fable for the comparison. In the original editions of La Fontaine, the two fables appear together with the heading "Fables I. et II.”
II. THE LION AND THE HUNTER.'
A BRAGGART, lover of the chase,
Had lost a dog of valued race,
And thought him in a lion's maw.
He ask'd a shepherd whom he saw,
Pray show me, man, the robber's place,
And I'll have justice in the case.'
'Tis on this mountain side,'
The shepherd man replied.
'The tribute of a sheep I pay,
Each month, and where I please I stray."
Out leap'd the lion as he spake,
And came that way, with agile feet.
The braggart, prompt his flight to take,
Cried, Jove, O grant a safe retreat!'
A danger close at hand
Of courage is the test.
It shows us who will stand-
Whose legs will run their best.
III.-PHOEBUS AND BOREAS.2
OLD Boreas and the sun, one day
Espied a traveller on his way,
Whose dress did happily provide
Against whatever might betide.
The time was autumn, when, indeed,
All prudent travellers take heed.
The rains that then the sunshine dash,
And Iris with her splendid sash,
Warn one who does not like to soak
To wear abroad a good thick cloak.
Our man was therefore well bedight
With double mantle, strong and tight.
Gabrias, or Babrias; and Æsop. See note to preceding fable.
Esop and Lokman; also P. Hegemon.
'This fellow,' said the wind, 'has meant
To guard from every ill event;
But little does he wot that I
Can blow him such a blast
That, not a button fast,
His cloak shall cleave the sky.
Come, here's a pleasant game, Sir Sun! Wilt play? Said Phoebus, 'Done! We'll bet between us here
Which first will take the gear
From off this cavalier.
Begin, and shut away
The brightness of my ray.'
'Enough.' Our blower, on the bet,
Swell'd out his pursy form
With all the stuff for storm-
The thunder, hail, and drenching wet,
And all the fury he could muster;
Then, with a very demon's bluster,
He whistled, whirl'd, and splash'd,
And down the torrents dash'd,
Full many a roof uptearing
He never did before,
Full many a vessel bearing
To wreck upon the shore,—
And all to doff a single cloak.
But vain the furious stroke;
The traveller was stout,
And kept the tempest out,
Defied the hurricane,
Defied the pelting rain;
And as the fiercer roar'd the blast,
His cloak the tighter held he fast.
The sun broke out, to win the bet;
He caused the clouds to disappear,
Refresh'd and warm'd the cavalier,
And through his mantle made him sweat,
Till off it came, of course,
In less than half an hour;
And yet the sun saved half his power.So much doth mildness more than force.
IV.-JUPITER AND THE FARMER.'
Of yore, a farm had Jupiter to rent ;
To advertise it, Mercury was sent.
The farmers, far and near,
Flock'd round, the terms to hear;
And, calling to their aid
The various tricks of trade,
One said 'twas rash a farm to hire
Which would so much expense require;
Another, that, do what you would,
The farm would still be far from good.
While thus, in market style, its faults were told,
One of the crowd, less wise than bold,
Would give so much, on this condition,
That Jove would yield him altogether
The choice and making of his weather,-
That, instantly on his decision,
His various crops should feel the power
Of heat or cold, of sun or shower.
Jove yields. The bargain closed, our man
Rains, blows, and takes the care
Of all the changes of the air,
On his peculiar, private plan.
His nearest neighbours felt it not,
And all the better was their lot.
Their year was good, by grace divine;
The grain was rich, and full the vine.
The renter, failing altogether,
The next year made quite different weather;
And yet the fruit of all his labours
Was far inferior to his neighbours'.
What better could he do? To Heaven
He owns at last his want of sense,
And so is graciously forgiven.
Hence we conclude that Providence
Knows better what we need
Than we ourselves, indeed.
Æsop; and Faerno.
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