Many of the old moralists have interpreted this Fable as a caution
never to trust a woman: a barbarous inference, which neither the
obvious sense of the apologue, nor the disposition of the softer sex
will warrant. For though some women may be fickle and unstable, yet the
generality exceed their calumniators in truth and constancy, and have
more frequently to complain of being the victims, than to be arraigned
as the authors of broken vows. To us this Fable appears to mean little
more than merely to shew how easily inclined we are, in all our various
expectations through life, to delude ourselves into a belief of any
thing which we desire to be true. The lover interprets every smile of
his mistress in his own favour, and is then perhaps neglected. The
beauty believes all mankind are dying for her, and is then deserted by
her train of admirers. The followers of the great reckon a smile or a
nod very auspicious omens, and deceive themselves with groundless hopes
of employment or promotion, in expectation of which, they, like the
Wolf at the Nurse’s door, dangle away the time that might be usefully
employed elsewhere, and at last are obliged to retire disappointed
and hungry, crying out perhaps against the perfidy of those in power,
instead of blaming their own sanguine credulity.
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