The Ass and the Mule / The Horse and the Over-Loaded Ass
The Ass and the Mule (George Fyler Townsend's Version)
A Muleteer set forth on a journey, driving before him an Ass and a Mule, both well laden. The Ass, as long as he traveled along the plain, carried his load with ease, but when he began to ascend the steep path of the mountain, felt his load to be more than he could bear. He entreated his companion to relieve him of a small portion, that he might carry home the rest; but the Mule paid no attention to the request. The Ass shortly afterwards fell down dead under his burden. Not knowing what else to do in so wild a region, the Muleteer placed upon the Mule the load carried by the Ass in addition to his own, and at the top of all placed the hide of the Ass, after he had skinned him. The Mule, groaning beneath his heavy burden, said to himself: “I am treated according to my deserts. If I had only been willing to assist the Ass a little in his need, I should not now be bearing, together with his burden, himself as well.”
(From the book Three Hundred Æsop’s Fables Literally Translated from the Greek by the Rev. George Fyler Townsend, M.A. — Public Domain)
The Ass and the Mule (V. S. Vernon Jones's Version)
A certain man who had an Ass and a Mule loaded them both up one day and set out upon a journey. So long as the road was fairly level, the Ass got on very well: but by and by they came to a place among the hills where the road was very rough and steep, and the Ass was at his last gasp. So he begged the Mule to relieve him of a part of his load: but the Mule refused. At last, from sheer weariness, the Ass stumbled and fell down a steep place and was killed. The driver was in despair, but he did the best he could: he added the Ass's load to the Mule's, and he also flayed the Ass and put his skin on the top of the double load. The Mule could only just manage the extra weight, and, as he staggered painfully along, he said to himself, "I have only got what I deserved: if I had been willing to help the Ass at first, I should not now be carrying his load and his skin into the bargain."
(From the book Aesop's Fables: A New Translation by V. S. Vernon Jones, with an introduction by G. K. Chesterton and illustrations by Arthur Rackham — Public Domain)
The Horse and the Loaded Ass (Samuel Croxall's Version)
An idle Horse, and an Ass labouring under a heavy burden, were travelling the road together; they both belonged to a country fellow, who trudged it on foot by them. The Ass, ready to faint under his heavy load, entreated the Horse to assist him, and lighten his burden, by taking some of it upon his back. The Horse was ill-natured, and refused to do it; upon which the poor Ass tumbled down in the midst of the highway, and expired in an instant. The countryman ungirted his pack-saddle, and tried several ways to relieve him, but all to no purpose: which, when he perceived, he took the whole burden and laid it upon the Horse, together with the skin of the dead Ass: so that the Horse, by his moroseness in refusing to do a small kindness, justly brought upon himself a great inconvenience.
Application.
Self-love is no such ill principle, if it were but well and truly directed; for it is impossible that any man should love himself to any purpose, who withdraws his assistance from his friends or the public. Every government is to be considered as a body politic; and every man who lives in it as a member of that body. Now, to carry on the allegory, no member can thrive better than when they all jointly unite in their endeavours to assist and improve the whole. If the hand was to refuse its assistance in procuring food for the mouth, they must both starve and perish together. And when those, who are parties concerned in the same community, deny such assistance to each other, as the preservation of that community necessarily requires, their self-interestedness, in that case, is ill-directed, and will have a quite contrary effect from what they intended. How many people are so senseless as to think it hard that there should be any taxes in the nation; whereas, were there to be none indeed, those very people would be undone immediately. That little property they have would be presently plundered by foreign or domestic enemies; and then they would be glad to contribute their quota, even without an act of parliament. The charges of supporting a government are necessary things, and easily supplied by a due and well proportioned contribution. But, in a narrower and more confined view, to be ready to assist our friends upon all occasions, is not only good, as it is an act of humanity, but highly discreet, as it strengthens our interest, and gives us an opportunity of lightening the burden of life.
(From the book Æsop's Fables, Embellished with One Hundred and Eleven Emblematical Devices. Translator: Samuel Croxall — Public Domain)
The Horse and the Over-Loaded Ass (Thomas Bewick's Version)
A clownish stupid Fellow, in travelling to market with his goods, loaded his Horse very lightly, and put a heavy burden upon his Ass, and was trudging along the road with them on foot. They had not travelled half-way to their journey’s end, when the Ass felt greatly overpowered with the weight he carried, and begged the Horse would be so good as to assist him by taking a part of it upon his back, and lighten the grievous burden, assuring him that through weakness he was quite exhausted, and was ready to faint. No! said the Horse, keep your burden to yourself, it does not concern me. Upon hearing this cruel reply, the poor Ass dropped down, and soon expired. The Master then ungirded the pack-saddle, and awkwardly tried several ways to relieve his Ass, but all to no purpose; it was too late. When he perceived how matters stood, he took the whole burden and laid it upon the Horse, together with the skin of the dead Ass, and when he felt tired with walking, he also mounted himself. The Horse is said to have often muttered as he went along, Well, this is my proper punishment, for refusing to help my fellow-servant in the depth of his distress.
Application.
He who has no compassion in his breast, is unworthy the title of a man; and the heart that feels no anguish at the misfortunes of others, nor a desire to relieve those who groan under a load of sorrow, is destitute of the very grounds and principles of virtue. The eye that has no tear for the griefs of a friend, is also blind to its own interest; for the burden of human affairs must be borne by some or other of us, and the duty, as well as the common necessity of helping one another, ought not to be shuffled off by the unworthy expression of “it is none of my business:” for the business of society is more or less the business of every man who lives in it; and he who permits his weak brother, for want of timely assistance, to sink under a greater weight than he is able to sustain, deserves to be punished for his cruelty, by being obliged to bear the whole of his own distressing burdens himself. The Fable also hints at the miseries which poor dumb useful animals undergo, from the injudicious management or cruel treatment of those under whose government they have the misfortune to fall. These kind of “hogs in armour” ought to be taught by their own sufferings, the benevolent text, that “A merciful man will be merciful to his beast.”
(From the book The Fables of Æsop, and Others, with designs on wood by Thomas Bewick — Public Domain)