Nor did the soldier's trade inflame His hopes with thirst of spoil and fame, _130 The miseries of war he mourned; Whole nations into deserts turned. By these have laws and rights been braved; By these were free-born men enslaved: When battles and invasion cease, Why swarm they in a land of peace? 'Such change,' says he, 'may I decline; The scythe and civil arms be mine!' Thus, weighing life in each condition, The clown withdrew his rash petition. _140 When thus the god: 'How mortals err! If you true happiness prefer, 'Tis to no rank of life confined, But dwells in every honest mind. Be justice then your sole pursuit: Plant virtue, and content's the fruit.' So Jove, to gratify the clown, Where first he found him set him down. * * * * * FABLE VIII. THE MAN, THE CAT, THE DOG, AND THE FLY. TO MY NATIVE COUNTRY. Hail, happy land, whose fertile grounds The liquid fence of Neptune bounds; By bounteous Nature set apart, The seat of industry and art! O Britain! chosen port of trade, May luxury ne'er thy sons invade; May never minister (intent His private treasures to augment) Corrupt thy state. If jealous foes Thy rights of commerce dare oppose, _10 Shall not thy fleets their rapine awe? Who is't prescribes the ocean law? Whenever neighbouring states contend, 'Tis thine to be the general friend. What is't, who rules in other lands? On trade alone thy glory stands. That benefit is unconfined, Diffusing good among mankind: That first gave lustre to thy reigns, And scattered plenty o'er thy plains: _20 'Tis that alone thy wealth supplies, And draws all Europe's envious eyes. Be commerce then thy sole design; Keep that, and all the world is thine. When naval traffic ploughs the main, Who shares not in the merchant's gain? 'Tis that supports the regal state, And makes the farmer's heart elate: The numerous flocks, that clothe the land, Can scarce supply the loom's demand; _30 Prolific culture glads the fields, And the bare heath a harvest yields. Nature expects mankind should share The duties of the public care. Who's born for sloth?[9] To some we find The ploughshare's annual toil assign'd. Some at the sounding anvil glow; Some the swift-sliding shuttle throw; Some, studious of the wind and tide, From pole to pole our commerce guide: _40 Some (taught by industry) impart With hands and feet the works of art; While some, of genius more refined, With head and tongue assist mankind: Each, aiming at one common end, Proves to the whole a needful friend. Thus, born each other's useful aid, By turns are obligations paid. The monarch, when his table's spread, Is to the clown obliged for bread; _50 And when in all his glory dress'd, Owes to the loom his royal vest. Do not the mason's toil and care Protect him from the inclement air?