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THE PACK-HORSE AND THE CARRIER.

TO A YOUNG NOBLEMAN.

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 cocker'd up in pride.
The tree's distinguish'd by the fruit:
Be virtue then your first pursuit ;
Set your great ancestors in view,
Like them deserve the title too;

Like them ignoble actions scorn;
Let virtue prove you greatly born.

Though with less plate their side-board shone,

Their conscience always was their own;

They ne'er at levees meanly fawn'd,
Nor was their honour yearly pawn'd;
Their hands, by no corruption stain'd,
The ministerial bribe disdain'd;
They serv'd the crown with loyal zeal,
Yet, jealous of the public weal,
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 şires 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 plac'd,
Is more conspicuously disgrac'd.
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 illustrious name?
From virtue and unblemish'd fame.
By birth the name alone descends;
Your honour on yourself depends:
Think not your coronet can hide
Assuming ignorance and pride.
Learning by study must be won;
'Twas ne'er entail'd 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.
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 turn'd his head aside,
Foaming, his eye-balls swell'd with pride.

'Good gods! (says he) how hard's my lot! Is then my high descent forgot? Reduc'd to drudgery and disgrace, (A life unworthy of my race)

Must I, too, bear the vile attacks
Of ragged scrubs and vulgar hacks?
See scurvy Roan, that brute ill-bred,

Dares from the manger thrust my head!
Shall I, who boast a noble line,

On offals of these creatures dine? Kick'd by old Ball! so mean a foe! My honour suffers by the blow. Newmarket speaks my grandsire's fame, All jockeys still revere his name: There, yearly, are his triumphs told, There all his massy plates enroll'd. Whene'er led forth upon the plain, You saw him with a livery train ; Returning, too, with laurels crown'd, You heard the drums and trumpets sound. Let it then, Sir, be understood, Respect's my due for I have blood.' "Vain-glorious fool! (the Carrier cried) Respect was never paid to pride. Know 'twas thy giddy wilful heart Reduc'd thee to this slavish part. Did not thy headstrong youth disdain To learn the conduct of the rein? Thus coxcombs, blind to real merit, In vicious frolics fancy spirit. What is't to me by whom begot? Thou restive, pert, conceited sot. Your sires I rev'rence; '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 bestow'd: Then vaunt no more thy noble race, That neither mends thy strength or pace.

What profits me thy boast of blood?
An ass hath more intrinsic good.

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

PAN AND FORTUNE.

TO A YOUNG HEIR.

Soon as your father's death was known,
(As if the' estate had been their own)
The gamesters outwardly exprest
The decent joy within your breast:
So lavish in your praise they grew,
As spoke their certain hopes in you.
One counts your income of the year,
How much in ready money clear.

No house (says he) is more complete ;
The garden's elegant and great.
How fine the park around it lies!
The timber's of a noble size!
Then, count his jewels and his plate!
Besides, 'tis no entail'd estate.

If cash run low, his lands in fee

Are, or for sale or mortgage, free.'

Thus they, before you threw the main,

Seem to anticipate their gain.

Would you, when thieves are known abroad,

Bring forth your treasures in the road?

Would not the fool abet the stealth,

Who rashly thus expos'd his wealth?
Yet this you do, whene'er you play
Among the gentlemen of prey.

Could fools to keep their own contrive, On what, on whom, could gamesters thrive? Is it in charity you game,

To save your worthy gang from shame?
Unless you furnish'd daily bread,
Which way could idleness be fed?
Could these professors of deceit
Within the law no longer cheat;
They must run bolder risks for prey,
And strip the traveller on the way.
Thus in your annual rents they share,
And 'scape the noose from year to year.
Consider, ere you make the bet,
That sum might cross your tailor's debt.
When you the pilfering rattle shake,
Is not your honour, too, at stake?
Must you not by mean lies evade
To-morrow's duns from every trade?
By promises so often paid,

Is yet your tailor's bill defray'd?
Must you not pitifully fawn'

To have your butcher's writ withdrawn?
This must be done. In debts of play
Your honour suffers no delay:

And not this year's and next year's rent

The sons of Rapine can content.

Look round, the wrecks of play behold; Estates dismember'd, mortgag'd, sold! Their owners now to jails confin'd,

Show equal poverty of mind.

Some, who the spoil of knaves were made, Too late attempt to learn their trade. Some, for the folly of one hour,

Become the dirty tools of pow'r,

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