On the calm mansions of the humble poor.
Reflection.
The answer of the humble Bramble to the proud Fir-tree is so pathetic, that it may of itself serve for a very good moral to this fable. Nothing of God’s works is so mean as to be despised, and nothing so lofty but it may be humbled; nay, and the greater the height the greater the danger. For a proud great man to despise an humble little one, when Providence can so easily exalt the one, and abase the other, and has not for the merit of the one, or the demerit of the other, conferred the respective conditions, is a most inexcusable arrogance: and history has given numberless instances, where the overgrown Fir, though a Prime Minister, or great Prince, in the very height of its pride, has been forced to submit to the executioner’s axe, while the humble Bramble, or contented poor man, has continued safe and unhurt in his lowly obscurity. We may further observe on this fable, that there is no state of life but has its mixture of good and evil. The Fir may boast of the uses to which it is put, and of its strength and stature; but then it has not to boast of the creeping Bramble’s safety; for the value of the one tempts the Carpenter’s axe, while the poverty of the other makes it little worth any one’s while to molest it. Upon the whole matter, we may add, That as pride or arrogance is a vice that seldom escapes without a punishment; so humility is a virtue that hardly ever goes without a blessing.
Fable XIX.
The Fox and the Countryman.
A Fox being hard hunted, and having run a long chase, was quite tired. At last he spied a country fellow in a wood, to whom he applied for refuge, entreating that he would give him leave to hide himself in his cottage, till the hounds were gone by. The man consented, and the Fox went and covered himself up close in a corner of the hovel. Presently the hunters came up, and inquired of the man, if he had seen the Fox. No, says he, I have not seen him indeed: but all the while he pointed with his finger to the place where the Fox was hid. However, the hunters did not understand him, but called off their hounds, and went another way. Soon after, the Fox, creeping out of his hole, was going to sneak off; when the man, calling after him, asked him, if that was his manners, to go away without thanking his benefactor, to whose fidelity he owed his life. Reynard, who had peeped all the while, and seen what passed, answered, I know what obligations I have to you well enough; and I assure you, if your actions had but been agreeable to your words, I should have endeavoured, however incapable of it, to have returned you suitable thanks.
Morals.
To appear in another’s interest, while underhand we are giving intelligence to their enemies, is treacherous, knavish, and base.