One day there happened some words between the Ant and the Fly about precedency, and the point was argued with great warmth and eagerness on both sides. Says the Fly, 'It is well known what my pretensions are, and how justly they are grounded: there is never a sacrifice that is offered but I always taste of the entrails, even before the gods themselves. I have one of the uppermost seats at church, and frequent the altar as often as any body: I have a free admission at court; and can never want the king's ear, for I sometimes sit upon his shoulder. There is not a maid of honour, or handsome young creature, comes in my way, but, if I like her, I settle betwixt her balmy lips, and then I eat and drink the best of every thing, without having any occasion to work for my living. What is there that such country pusses as you enjoy, to be compared with a life like this?'—The Ant, who by this time had composed herself, replied with a great deal of temper, and no less severity—'Indeed, to be a guest at an entertainment of the gods, is a very great honour, if one is invited; but I should not care to be a disagreeable intruder any where. You talk of the king and the court, and the fine ladies there, with great familiarity; but, as I have been getting in my harvest in summer, I have seen a certain person under the town walls, making a hearty meal upon something that is not so proper to be mentioned. As to your frequenting the altars, you are in the right to take sanctuary where you are like to meet with the least disturbance: but I have known people before now run to altars, and call it devotion, when they have been shut out of all good company, and had no where else to go. You do not work for your living, you say,—true: therefore, when you have played away the summer, and winter comes, you have nothing to live upon; and, while you are starving with cold and hunger, I have a good warm house over my head, and plenty of provisions about me.'

APPLICATION.

This fable points out to us the different characters of those that recommend themselves in a vain-glorious way by false and borrowed lights; and of those whose real merit procures them a good esteem wherever they go. Poverty and folly having, at the same time, possession of any one man, cannot fail of making him an object of pity, if not of contempt; but, when an empty conceited pride happens to be joined with them, they render the creature in whom they meet at the same time despicable and ridiculous. One who often attends at court, not because he has a place, but because he has not, should not value himself upon his condition. They who go to church out of vanity and curiosity, and not for pure devotion, should not value themselves upon their religion, for it is not worth a straw. They who eat at a threepenny ordinary, and sometimes not so well, should not boast either of their dinner or company. In short, nobody is a better gentleman, than he whose own honest industry supplies him with a plenty of all necessaries; who is so well acquainted with honour, as never to say or do a mean and unjust thing; and who despises an idle scoundrel, but knows how to esteem men of his own principles. Such a one is a person of the first quality, though he has never a title, and ought to take place of every man who is not so good as himself.