When peace of conscience is no more. 
  Does not the hound betray our pace,
  And gins and guns destroy our race? 
  Thieves dread the searching eye of power,
  And never feel the quiet hour. 
  Old age (which few of us shall know)
  Now puts a period to my woe.
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  Would you true happiness attain,
  Let honesty your passions rein;
  So live in credit and esteem,
  And the good name you lost, redeem.’ 
     ‘The counsel’s good,’ a fox replies,
  ’Could we perform what you advise. 
  Think what our ancestors have done;
  A line of thieves from son to son: 
  To us descends the long disgrace,
  And infamy hath marked our race.
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  Though we, like harmless sheep, should feed,
  Honest in thought, in word, and deed;
  Whatever henroost is decreased,
  We shall be thought to share the feast. 
  The change shall never be believed,
  A lost good name is ne’er retrieved.’ 
     ‘Nay, then,’ replies the feeble fox,
  ’(But hark!  I hear a hen that clocks)
  Go, but be moderate in your food;
  A chicken too might do me good.’

* * * * *

  FABLE XXX.

  THE SETTING-DOG AND THE PARTRIDGE.

  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;
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  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 shall disown thee of their race! 
  For if I judge their native parts,
  They’re born with open, honest hearts;
  And, ere they serve man’s wicked ends,
  Were generous foes, or real friends.’
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     When thus the dog, with scornful smile: 
  ’Secure of wing, thou dar’st revile. 
  Clowns are to polished 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: 
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  Thus trained by man, I learnt his ways,
  And growing favour feasts my days.’ 
    ‘I might have guessed,’ the partridge said,
  ’The place where you were trained and fed;
  Servants are apt, and in a trice
  Ape to a hair their master’s vice. 
  You came from court, you say.  Adieu,’
  She said, and to the covey flew.

* * * * *