For he had impudence at will,
And boafted univerfal skill.
Ambition was his point in view:
Thus by degrees to power he grew.
Behold him now his drift attain:
He 's made chief treasurer of the grain.
But as their ancient laws are just,
And punish breach of public truft,
*Tis order'd (left wrong application
Should starve that wife industrious nation)
That all accounts be ftated clear,
Their ftock, and what defray'd the year;
That auditors fhall these inspect,
And public rapine thus be check'd.
For this the folemn day was fet;
The auditors in council met.
The granary-keeper muft explain,
And balance his account of grain.
He brought (fince he could not refuse them)
Some fcraps of paper to amuse them.
An honeft Pifiire, warm with zeal,
In juftice to the public weal,
Thus fpoke: "The nation's hoard is low;
From whence does this profufion flow?
I know our annual funds' amount;
Why fuch expence? and where's th' account?" 110
With wonted arrogance and pride,
The Ant in office thus reply'd.
"Confider, Sirs, were fecrets told,
How could the best-schem'd projects hold ?
Should we ftate myfteries difclofe,
'Twould lay us open to our foes.
My duty and my well-known zeal
Bid me our present schemes conceal :
But, on my honour, all th' expence
(Though vaft) was for the fwarm's defence." #20 They pafs'd th' account as fair and just,
And voted him implicit truft.
Next year again, the granary drain'd,
He thus his innocence maintain'd.
"Think how our prefent matters stand,
What dangers threat from every hand;
What hofts of turkeys stroll for food,
No farmer's wife but hath her brood.
Confider, when invafion's near,
Intelligence must cost us dear;
And, in this ticklish fituation,
A fecret told betrays the nation :
But, on my honour, all th' expence
(Though vaft) was for the fwarm's defence."
Again, without examination,
They thank'd his fage administration.
The year revolves. Their treafure, fpent,
Again in fecret service went.
At laft this fecret is explor'd,
Tis our corruption thins the hoard.
For every grain we touch'd, at least
A thousand his own heaps increas'd.
Then for his kin and favourite fpies,
A hundred hardly could fuffice.
Thus, for a paltry fneaking bribe,.
We cheat ourselves and all the tribe
For all the magazine contains
Grows from our annual toil and pains."
They vote th' account fhall be inspected;
The cunning plunderer is detected;
The fraud is fentenc'd; and his hoard,
As due, to public use restor❜d.
Whose search is bent himself to know;
Impartially he weighs his fcope,
And on firm reafon founds his hope;
He tries his ftrength before the race,
And never feeks his own difgrace;
He knows the compafs, fail, and oar,
Or never launches from the fhore;
Before he builds, computes the coft,
And in no proud pursuit is loft:
He learns the bounds of human fenfe,
And fafely walks within the fence.
Thus, confcious of his own defect,
Are pride and felf-importance check'd.
If then, felf-knowledge to pursue,
Direct our life in every view,
Of all the fools that pride can boaft,
A Coxcomb claims diftinction moft.
Coxcombs are of all ranks and kind;
They 're not to fex or age contin'd,
Or rich, or poor, or great, or
or fmall,
And vanity befots them all.
By ignorance is pride increas'd :
That, fmitten with his face and shape,
By drefs diftinguishes the ape;
Th' other with learning crams his shelf,
Knows books, and all things but himself.
All these are fools of low condition,
Compar'd with Coxcombs of ambition :
For those, puff'd up with flattery, darę
Affume a nation's various care.
They ne'er the groffeft praise mistruft,
Their fycophants feem hardly juft;
For these, in part alone, attest
The flattery their own thoughts fuggeft.
In this wide fphere a Coxcomb's shown
In other realms befides his own :
The felf-deem'd Machiavel at large
By turns controls in every charge.
Does Commerce suffer in her rights?
'Tis he directs the naval flights.
What failor dares difpute his skill?
He'll be an admiral when he will.
Now, meddling in the foldier's trade,
Troops must be hir'd, and levies made.
He gives ambaffadors their cue,
His cobbled treaties to renew ;
And annual taxes muft fuffice.
The current blunders to disguise.
When his crude fchemes in air are loft,
And millions fcarce defray the coft,
His arrogance (nought undismay'd)
Trufting in felf-fufficient aid,
On other rocks misguides the realm, ·
And thinks a pilot at the helm..
Hè ne'er fufpects his want of skill,
But blunders on from ill to ill;
And, when he fails of all intent,
Blames only unforeseen event.
Left you mistake the application,
The Fable calls me to relation.
A Bear of fhag and manners rough,
At climbing trees expert enough;
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