At him or him I take no aim,1
Yet dare against all vice declaim.
Shall I not censure breach of trust,
Because knaves know themselves unjust?
That steward whose account is clear,
Demands his honour may appear,
His actions never shun the light,
He is, and would be proved, upright.
But then you think my Fable bears
Allusion, too, to state-affairs.

I grant it does: and who's so great,
That has the privilege to cheat?
If then in any future reign
(For ministers may thirst for gain)
Corrupted hands defraud the nation,
I bar no reader's application.2

An Ant there was, whose forward prate
Controll'd all matters in debate;
Whether he knew the thing or no,
His tongue eternally would go.
For he had impudence at will,
And boasted universal 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 trust,

(1) The line should be

"At it or him, I take no aim."

(2) In fact it is very well that fable has been invented, since what is an anodyne when applied by a man's self to his ill, becomes a cautery when clapped on him by another.

"Tis order'd (lest wrong application

Should starve that wise industrious nation)
That all accounts be stated clear,

Their stock, and what defray'd the year;
That auditors shall these inspect,
And public rapine thus be check'd.
For this the solemn day was set;
The auditors in council met.
The granary-keeper must explain,
And balance his account of grain.

He brought (since he could not refuse 'em)
of paper to amuse 'em.1

Some scraps

An honest Pismire, warm with zeal,

In justice to the public weal,

Thus spoke:-"The nation's hoard is low;
From whence does this profusion flow?

I know our annual funds' amount;

Why such expense? and where's the' account?" 2
With wonted arrogance and pride,

The Ant in office thus replied:

"Consider, Sirs, were secrets told,

How could the best-schemed projects hold?
Should we state-mysteries disclose,

'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 the' expense

(Though vast) was for the swarm's defence."

(1) A fair example of "cooked" state accounts. The late Lord Errol, alluding to the facile audacity with which these were prepared and vouched for, used to, say, that "for any purpose of deception commend him to facts and figures!"

(2) This pismire is commended to the earnest attention of Mr. Joseph Hume.

They pass'd the' account as fair and just; And voted him implicit trust.

Next year again the granary drain'd, He thus his innocence maintain'd:

"Think how our present matters stand, What dangers threat from every hand; What hosts of turkeys stroll for food, No farmer's wife but hath her brood. Consider, when invasion's near, Intelligence must cost us dear; And, in this ticklish situation, A secret told betrays the nation: But on my honour, all the expense (Though vast) was for the swarm's defence." 1 Again, without examination, They thank'd his sage administration.

The year revolves. Their treasure spent, Again in secret service went:

His honour, too, again was pledged,

To satisfy the charge alleged.

When thus, with panic shame possess'd,
An auditor, his friends address'd:
"What are we? ministerial tools?
We little knaves are greater fools.2
At last this secret is explored,
'Tis our corruption thins the hoard.
For every grain we touch'd, at least,
A thousand, his own heaps, increased.
Then for his kin and favourite spies,
A hundred hardly could suffice.

(1) Speech of the Secretary at War in 1852.
(2) This "tag," is repeated "usque ad nauseam."

Thus for a paltry sneaking bribe,

We cheat ourselves and all the tribe;
For all the magazine contains,

Grows from our annual toil and pains."

They vote th' account shall be inspected;
The cunning plunderer is detected;

The fraud is sentenced; and his hoard,
As due, to public use restored.1

(1) The "auri sacra fames" has been the upas-tree, beneath whose blight, virtue has waned, innocence suffered, and honesty and merit starved, from the period of the birth of Lord Peter's bulls (vide Swift's Tale of a Tub), whose roaring subsided, "pulveris exigui jactu," to the epoch of the "greatest, wisest, meanest of mankind," Lord Bacon, and-later. Hence the necessity of state intrigue and diplomatic falsehood, which after all afford but scant protection to the bewildered, grasping minister, against the outcries of the patriotic because famished place-hunters, who draw their eloquence from their disappointment, and their vehement invective upon venality, from their own craving need! Compare former speeches and characters, with those upon the scene now, and the only difference is that they figure in different days: nay more the staple commodity of their eloquence is the same, and if we took up a gazette or "broadside" of Anne, and placed it side by side with the Times newspaper, we should find that the country throughout has always been on the eve of destruction, money always requisite for defences, state arts quite as rife, ministerial excuses just as plausible, and premier, prelate, patriot, and parasite, equally "honourable" when there was nothing to lose, and equally supple when there was anything to gain!

"Can they not juggle, and, with slight

Conveyance, play with wrong and right?
Will not fear, favour, bribe, and grudge,

The same case, several ways adjudge?"-HUDIBRAS.

THAT man must daily wiser grow,
Whose search is bent, himself to know.
Impartially he weighs his scope,

And on firm reason founds his hope;
He tries his strength before the race,
And never seeks his own disgrace;
He knows the compass, sail, and oar,
Or never launches from the shore;
Before he builds, computes the cost,
And in no proud pursuit is lost;