Æſop's FABLES.
153
Fab. CLXXXIII.
Jupiter and Fraud.
JUpiter Appointed Mercury to make him a Compoſition of Fraud and Hypocriſie, and to give Every Artificer his Dole on’t, The Medicine was Prepar'd according to the Bill, and the Proportions duly Obſerv’d, and Divided: Only there was a great deal too Much of it made, and the Overplus remain'd ſtill in the Morter. Upon Examining the Whole Account, there was a Miſtake it ſeems, in the Reck’ning; for the Taylors were forgott’n in the Catalogue: So that Mercury, for Brevity ſake, gave the Taylors the Whole Quantity that was Left; and from hence comes the Old Saying; There’s Knavery in All Trades, but Moſt in Taylors.
The MORAL.
It is in ſome ſort Natural to be a Knave. We were Made ſo, in the very Compoſition of our Fleſh and Blood; Only Fraud is call'd Wit in One Caſe, Good Husbandry in Another, &c. while 'tis the Whole Bus'neſs of the World for One Man to Couzen Another.
REFLEXION.
LYING and Couzening is a General Practice in the World, tho' it appears in ſome Men, and in ſome Trades, more then in other. Æſop is ſtill Introducing ſome or other of the Gods, to Countenance the Corruptions of Fleſh and Blood: And ſince Cuſtom and Intereſt will have it to; that all Tradeſnen muſt uſe Fraud, more or leſs, even in their own Defence, the Practice being in ſome ſort ſo Neceſſary, 'tis not amiſs to bring in Jupiter vo juſtifie it. But why is this Falſe and Double Dealing apply'd to Tradeſmen only, when it is Common to Mankind? And why among them, to Taylors above the Reſt? when all the Bus'neſs thar paſſes in this World betwixt Man and Man is Manag’d by Colluſion and Deceit, in as High a Meaſure: So that the Compoſition might have been as well Prepar'd for Humane Nature. Are we not Falſe,in Our Pretended Civilities, Formal Complements, and Reſpects; in our Confidences, and in our Profeſſions? Are we not Falſe, in Promiſing, and Breaking? Is not He that Robs me of my Good Name, a more Abominable Cheat, then He that Couzens me of a Yard of Damask? Is not He that Betrays me in his Arms, a more Deteſtable Wretch then He that Contents Himſelf in the Way of his Trade, to Pick my Pocket? Without any more Words, we are All Jugglers in ſome Kind, or in ſome Degree or Other. But there's this to be ſaid for't yet, that we Play Foul by Conſent. We Couzen in cue Words, and in our Actions; only we are Agreed upon’t, that ſuch and ſuch Forms of Civility, like ſome Adulterate Quoins, ſhall paſſ Current for ſo Much. A Faſhionable Impoſture, or Hypocriſie, ſhall be call’d GoodManners
