There’s but a Hair’s Breadth here, betwixt an Office of Great Piety,
Humanity and Virtue, and an Action of Extreme Folly, Improvidence, and
Hazzard. But the _Fox_ saw through the Complement, and that it was, in
Truth, but an Invitation of him to his own Funeral. We meet with many of
These Dangerous Civilities in the World, wherein ’tis a Hard Matter for a
Man to Save, both his Skin and his Credit.
’Tis a Difficult Point to Hit the True _Medium_, betwixt Trusting too
Much, and too Little, for fear of Incurring a Danger on the One Hand, or
giving a Scandal on the Other. Complements are only Words of Course, and
though One External Civility may be Current Payment for Another, yet a
Man would be loth to Venture his All upon a Figure of Speech, where the
Meaning is so Nicely Divided betwixt Jest and Earnest. ’Tis a Base Thing
to suspect a Friend, or an Honest Man, Nay ’tis a Base Thing to suspect
any Man, that but Looks like One; so as to Wound him; That is, either in
a Word, or in a Thought. But then ’tis Death perhaps to be Impos’d upon
by an Hypocrite under that Masque. So that the Character of a Wise Man,
lyes at Stake upon Matter of Judgment, One Way, and of a Good Natur’d
Man, the Other Way. The Middle Course is to Hide our Distrust where we
are doubtful, and to be Free, and Open, where we may be Secure. There’s
No Living without Trusting some body or Other, in some Cases, or at
some Time or Other: But then if People be not Cautious, Whom, When, and
Wherein, the Mistake may be Mortal; for there must be somewhat of a Trust
to make way for a Treachery; since No Man can be Betray’d that does not
either Believe, or seem to Believe: So that the _Fox_ did well to Weigh
All Circumstances before he came to a Resolution. The _Lion_’s Design was
well enough Cover’d under the Disguise of a Counterfeit Sickness, and
a Dissembled Tenderness and Respect, for the Drawing of the _Fox_ into
the Toyle. For there was the Civility of an Invitation, on the One Hand,
and some Colour of a Right to a Visit, though but out of Compassion and
Good Manners, on the Other: But the _Foxes_ Sagacity, and the Prints of
the Feet Spoil’d All. This Fable in One Word more, bids us be Careful
how we Trust in Any Case without looking Well about us: for ’tis Half
the Bus’ness of One part of the World to put Tricks upon T’other. The
Heart of Man is like a Bog, it looks Fair to the Eye; but when we come
to lay any Weight upon’t, the Ground is False under us. Nothing could be
more Obliging and Respectful then the _Lyon_’s Letter was, in Terms and
Appearance; but there was _Death_ yet in the True Intent and Meaning on’t.