The MORAL.
REFLEXION.
'TIS a Common Thing for People that are Uneaſy, to fly to Remedies that are Worſe then the Diſeaſe; Wherefore Men ſhould Deliberate before they Reſolve; and ſay to Themſelves, This we ſuffer at Preſent, and This or That we Propoſe to Get by ſuch and ſuch a Change; and ſo ſet the One againſt the Other. The Wenches were call’d up too Early, they thought, and ſo for fear of having too Little Sleep, they ran the Riſque of having no Sleep at all. And it fares much at the ſame Rate in Publique Grievances that it does in Private; When rather then bear the Importunity of a Flea-biting, we are apt to run our ſelves Hand over Head into a Bed of Scorpions; which is ſuch another kind of an Expedient, as if a Body ſhould Beat out his Brains to Cure the Head-Ach. Fleſh and Bloud is Naturally Impatient of Reſtraint; beſide the Itch and Curioſity that we have, to ts Prying and Searching into Forbidden Secrets; and to ſee (as one ſays) What Good is in Evil. 'Tis Natural to us to be Weary of what we have, and ſtill to be Hankering after ſomething or other that we have Not: And ſo our Levity Puſhes us on from One Vain Deſire to Another, in a Regular Viciſſitude, and Succeſſion of Cravings and Satiety. We want (as I ſay) what we have not, and grow Sick on't when we have it. Now the Wiſe Man Clears the Whole Matter to us, in Pronouncing All things under the Sun (That is to ſay, the Pomp, the Pleaſures, and the Enjoyments of This World) to be Vanity of Vanities, and All, Vanity. The Truth of it is, we Govern our Lives by Fancy, rather then by Judgment. We Miſtake the Reaſons of Things, and Impute the Iſſue of them to Wrong Cauſes. So that the Leſſon given us here, is Preceptive to us, not to do any thing but upon due Conſideration. The Wenches Kill'd the Cock for calling them up ſo ſoon, whereas the Crowing of the Cock was the Cauſe, in Truth, that they were call'd up no ſooncr.
Fab. CCX.
A Lyon and a Goat.
A Lyon ſpy’d a Goat upon the Crag of a High Rock, and ſo call'd out to him after this Manner: Hadſt not thou better come Down now, ſays the Lyon, into This Delicate Fine Meadow? Well, ſays the Goat, and ſo perhaps I would, if it were not for the Lyon that's there Before me: But I'm for a Life of Safety, rather then for a Life of Pleaſure. Your Pretence isthe
