FABLE II. The Wooden-God.
Foul Means must do what Fair Means can't.
A man of good Devotion, ill address'd,
A Wooden-Idol for his God caress'd;
Ador'd the Senseless Stock, and daily Pray'd
The Deaf to Hear, the Helpless to give Aid:
But still, the more he Supplications made,
The more his whole Affairs went retrograde.
Incens'd, he shou'd in vain so often call,
He dash'd the sacred Block against a Wall;
There broke his stupid Logger-head, and found
A shining Treasure issue from the Wound:
Which gath'ring up, Perverse and False, he cry'd,
That, while I honour'd you, your Help deny'd!
But since, as you deserv'd, you fell, my Rage,
Hath made my future Days a Golden Age.
The MORAL.
‘Untoward Wretches, like this stubborn Wood,
‘Are never, but by strong Compulsion, good:
‘When soothing Words, and soft Entreaties, fail;
‘Harsh Language, and rough Usage, must prevail:
‘Their resty Souls thus to Compliance bring;
‘Like Birds, that can, and will not, make them sing.
