The Bear Turned Doctor

A BEAR had long been in the train
Of a quack Doctor, pert and vain;
Had learnt the invalids to teaze,
But not to cure, or give them ease;
Persuaded that he knew the trade,
He wish'd a Doctor to be made,--
A Doctor for quadrupede race,
Worn down by time, or in the chace.
        Occasion watch'd, he left the quack,
Who never try'd to get him back;
Not being in the least afraid
A Bear would interrupt his trade.
Had he sat up nearest neighbour,
None had call'd him an invader;

Because the Bear, not to oppose,
A diff'rent mode of practice chose;
Adhering to the grand rule still,
Of patients more than half to kill;
That part alone he kept in view,
As all the greatest doctors do:
But taking fees he quite decry'd,
And eat his patients when they dy'd,
Which relatives do oft prefer,
As saving trouble to inter.
        The wretched beasts refusing food,
Their Doctor did no kind of good;
Waiting impatiently for death,
He watch'd till they resign'd their breath,
Then made his meal without a qualm,
Content, tho' gold ne'er touch'd his palm.
        His own health needed no repair;
For frequent walks in wholesome air,
Made him so ravenous and bold.
A patient's hand he scarce could hold,

From strong temptation to devour
The poor weak victim in his pow'r.
        Every beast could now observe
The trade a trick, without reserve.
        "Whoe'er departs from settled rules,"
The Lion said, "are knaves and fools.
"To kill a beast is my delight,
"I eat him, and I think it right;
"But then not falsely I pretend
"To be his Doctor, or his friend."
        So said the Wolf--"A lamb I eat,
"And kids I also think a treat.
"But why should I incur a curse?
"I ne'er pretend to be their nurse."
        Thus ev'ry beast of rav'nous breed
Seem'd one and all to be agreed,
To take a life none should gainsay,
Suppose they follow'd but their way.
        The Horse stood forward to descry
Those who their crimes did justify.

        "I find," said he, "ye all allow
"Your tribe in ev'ry outrage now,
"Believing those your lawful prey
"Which are too weak to run away:
"But crimes to which ye are not prone,
"Ye see not tamely like your own.
"The Bear but stepping from his path,
"Excites your censure, or your laugh;
"Forgetting your own acts inspire
"Disapprobation, wrath, and ire."

MORAL.

Those the least savage in their heart,
Act a forgiving candid part.
Those, for not one good action known,
No faults excuse, except their own.

Original fables by a Lady

Printed by W. Calvert, Shire Lane, Lincoln's Inn, for B. Crosby and Co. London, 1810

To your Royal Highness the following Fables are dedicated, with a wish that in an interval of leisure some transient amusement may be obtained.