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ness jog that out of thy head, which was there rather ordinary pitch. Jealousy, glory, and contention, stis tacked than fastened? whereas those notions which get | mulate and raise me up to something above myself; ! in by 'violenta possessio,' will abide there till' ejectio and a consent of judgment is a quality totally otfenfirma,' sickness, or extreme age, dispossess them. It sive in conference. But, as our minds fortify themis best knocking in the nail over night, and clinching selves by the communication of vigorous and regular it the next morning.
| understandings, 'tis not to be expressed how much! Overburden not thy memory to make so faithful a they lose and degenerate by the continual commerce servant a slave. Remember Atlas was weary. Have and frequentation we have with those that are mean as much reason as a camel, to rise when thou hast thy and low. There is no contagion that spreads like that. I full load. Memory, like a purse, if it be over full that know sufficiently, by experience, what 'tis worth a vard, it cannot shut, all will drop out of it: take heed of a I love to discourse and dispute, but it is with few men, gluttonous curiosity to feed on many things, lest the and for myself; for to do it as a spectacle and enter: greediness of the appetite of thy memory spoil the tainment to great persons, and to vaunt of a man's i digestion thereof. Beza's case was peculiar and memo- wit and eloquence, is in my opinion very un becoming rable; being above fourscore years of age, he perfectly a man of honour. Impertinency is a scurry quality ; could say by heart any Greek chapter in St Paul's but not to be able to endure it, to fret and ver at it, i epistles, or anything else which he had learnt long as I do, is another sort of disease, little inferior to before, but forgot whatsoever was newly told him; his impertinence itself, and is the thing that I will no memory, like an inn, retaining old guests, but having accuse in myself. I enter into conference and dispute no room to entertain new.
with great liberty and facility, forasmuch as opinion Spoil not thy memory by thine own jealousy, nor meets in me with a soil very unfit for penetration, and make it bad by suspecting it. How canst thou find wherein to take any deep root : no propositions astothat true which thou wilt not trust? St Augustine nish me, no belief offends me, though nerer so contrary tells us of his friend Simplicius, who, being asked, to my own. There is no so frivolous and extravagant could tell all Virgil's verses backward and forward, fancy that does not seem to me suitable to the proand yet the same party avowed to God that he knew duct of human wit. * * The contradictions of judg. 1 not that he could do it till they did try him. Sure ments, then, do neither offend nor alter, they only there is concealed strength in men's memories, which rouse and exercise me. We erade correction, whereas they take no notice of.
we ought to offer and present ourselves to it, espeMarshal thy notions into a handsome method. One cially when it appears in the form of conference, and will carry twice more weight trussed and packed up not of authority. At every opposition, we do not conin bundles, than when it lies untoward flapping and sider whether or no it be just, but right or wrong how hanging about his shoulders. Things orderly fardled to disengage ourselves; instead of extending the anos, up under heads are most portable.
we thrust out our claws. I could sufier myself to be Adventure not all thy learning in one bottom, but rudely handled by my friend, so much as to tell me divide it betwixt thy memory and thy note-books. He that I am a fool, and talk I know not of what. I lore that with Bias carries all his learning about him in stout expressions amongst brave men, and to have his head, will utterly be beggared and bankrupt, if a them speak as they think. We must fortify and violent disease, a merciless thief, should rob and strip harden our hearing against this tenderness of the him. I know some have a common-place against ceremonious sound of words. I lore a strong and manly common-place books, and yet, perchance, will privately familiarity in conversation ; a friendship that flatters make use of what they publicly declaim against. A itself in the sharpness and vigour of its communicacommon-place book contains many notions in garrison, tion, like love in biting and scratching. It is not whence the owner may draw out an army into the vigorous and generous enough if it be not quarrelsome; field on competent warning.
| if civilised and artificial, if it treads nicely, and fears
the shock. When any one contradicts me, he raises [Terrors of a Guilty Conscience.]
my attention, not my anger; I advance towards him
that controverts, that instructs me. The cause of Fancy runs most furiously when a guilty conscience truth ought to be the common cause both of one and drives it. One that owed much money, and had many | the other. * * I embrace and caress truth in creditors, as he walked London streets in the evening, a what hand soever I find it, and cheerfully surrender tenterhook catched his cloak: 'At whose suit?' said myself and my conguered arms. as far off as I can dis. he. conceiving some bailiff had arrested him. Thus cover it: and, provided it be not too imperiously, take muilty consciences are afraid where no fear is, and a pleasure in being reproved : and accommodate toycount every creature they meet a sergeant sent from self to my accusers, very often more by reason of God to punish them.
civility than amendment, loring to gratify and nou
rish the liberty of admonition by my facility of sub[Marriage.]
mitting to it.* * In eamest, I rather choose the Deceive not thyself by over-expecting happiness in frequentation of those that ruffle me than those that the married state. Look not therein for contentment fear me. 'Tis a dull and hurtful pleasure to have to greater than God will give, or a creature in this world do with people who admire us, and approve of all we can receive, namely, to be free from all inconveniences. say. Marriage is not like the hill Olympus, wholly clear,
[Domestic Economy.) without clouds. Remember the nightingales, which sing only some months in the spring, but commonly The most useful and honourable knowledge for the are silent when they have hatched their eggs, as if | mother of a fainily, is the science of good housewifery. their mirth were turned into care for their young
I see some that are covetous, indeed, but very few ones.
that are saving. 'Tis the supreme quality of a woman,
and that a man ought to seck after beyond any other, [Conversation.]
as the only dowry that must ruin or preserve our
houses. Let men say what they will, according to the The study of books is a languishing and feeble experience I have learned, I require in married women motion, that heats not; whereas conference teaches the economical virtue abore all other virtues; I put and exercises at once. If I confer with an understand- my wife to't as a concern of her own, leaving her, by ing man and a rude jester, he presses hard upon me on my absence, the whole government of my affairs. I both sides; his imaginations raise up mine to more than see, and am ashamed to sce, in several families I know,
monsieur about dinner time come home all dirt, and the neighbourhood of London, 'in such days and in great disorder, from trotting about amongst his times as he laid aside business, and went a-fishing husbandmen and labourers, when madam is perhaps scarce out of her bed, and afterwards is pouncing and tricking up herself, forsooth, in her closet. This is for queens to do, and that's a question too. 'Tis ridiculous and unjust that the laziness of our wives should be maintained with our sweat and labour.
[Miscellaneous Aphorisms.] It is dangerous to gather flowers that grow on the banks of the pit of hell, for fear of falling in: yea, they which play with the devil's rattles will be
brought by degrees to wield his sword; and from | making of sport, they come to doing of mischief.
Heat gotten by degrees, with motion and exercise, is more natural, and stays longer by one, than what is gotten all at once by coming to the fire. Goods acquired by industry prove commonly more lasting than lands by descent.
A public office is a guest which receives the best 1, usage from them who never invited it.
Scoff not at the natural defects of any, which are not in their power to amend. Oh ! 'tis cruelty to beat a cripple with his own crutches.
Anger is one of the sinews of the soul : he that wants it hath a maimed mind. l: Generally, nature hangs out a sign of simplicity in the face of a fool, and there is enough in his countenance for a hue and cry to take him or else it is stamped in the figure of his body: their heads sometimes so little, that there is no room for wit; sometimes so long, that there is no wit for so much room,
They that marry ancient people, merely in expectation to bury them, hang themselves, in hope that one will come and cut the halter.
Learning hath gained most by those books by which the printers have lost.
Is there no way to bring home a wandering sheep but by worrying him to death?
Moderation is the silken string running through the pearl-chain of all virtues.
Izaak Walton. with honest Nat. and R. Roe.' From the Royal Burse Izaak (for so he always wrote his name) removed to Fleet Street, where he had one half of a shop, the other half being occupied by a hosier.
IZAAK WALTON. One of the most interesting and popular of our early writers was IzAAK WALTON, an English worthy of the simple antique cast, who retained in the heart of London, and in the midst of close and successful application to business, an unworldly simplicity of character, and an inextinguishable fondness for country scenes, pastimes, and recreations. He had also a power of natural description and lively
ULLIT dialogue that has rarely been surpassed. His Com
ONDA SIBIU plete Angler is a rich storehouse of rural pictures and pastoral poetry, of quaint but wise thoughts, of agreeable and humorous fancies, and of truly apostolic purity and benevolence. The slight tincture of su
RE perstitious credulity and innocent eccentricity which pervades his works gives them a finer zest, and original flavour, without detracting from their higher power to soothe, instruct, and delight. Walton was born in the town of Stafford in August 1593. Of his education or his early years nothing is related; but according to Anthony Wood, he acquired a
Walton's House moderate competency, by following in London the occupation of a sempster or linen-draper. He had About the year 1632, he was married to Anne, the a shop in the Royal Burse in Cornhill, which was daughter of Thomas Ken, of Furnival's Inn, and seven feet and a-half long, and five wide. Lord Bacon sister of Dr Ken, bishop of Bath and Wells. This has a punning remark, that a small room helps a respectable connexion probably introduced Walton studious man to condense his thoughts, and cer- to the acquaintance of the eminent men and dignitainly Izaak Walton was not destitute of this intel- taries of the church, at whose houses he spent much lectual succedaneum. He had a more pleasant and of his time in his latter years, especially after the spacious study, however, in the fields and rivers in death of his wife, a woman of remarkable prudence,
and of the primitive piety,' Walton retired from earth, and sings as she ascends higher into the air; and business in 1643, and lived forty years afterwards in having ended her heavenly employment, grows then uninterrupted leisure. His first work was a Life of mute and sad, to think she must descend to the dull Dr Donne, prefixed to a collection of the doctor's earth, which she would not touch but for necessity, sermons, published in 1640. Sir Henry Wotton was How do the blackbird and throssel (song-thrush), to have written Donne's life, Walton merely collect with their melodious voices, bid welcome to the cheering the materials; but Sir Henry dying before he had ful spring, and in their fixed mouths warble forth such begun to execute the task, Izaak “reviewed his for- | ditties as no art or instrument can reach to! saken collections, and resolved that the world should Nay, the smaller birds also do the like in their par., see the best plain picture of the author's life that his ticular seasons, as, namely, the laverock (skylark), the artless pencil, guided by the hand of truth, could titlark, the little linnet, and the honest robin, that present. The memoir is circumstantial and deeply loves mankind both alive and dead. interesting. He next wrote a Life of Sir Henry! But the nightingale, another of my airy creatures, Wotton, and edited his literary remains. His prin- | breathes suo
| breathes such sweet loud music out of her little incipal production. The Complete Angler. or Contem- strumental throat, that it might make mankind to plative Man's Recreation, appeared in 1653. and think miracles are not ceased. He that at midnight, four other editions of it were called for during his when the very labourer sleeps securely, should hear, as ; life, namely, in 1655, 1664, 1668, and 1676. Walton
I have very often, the clear airs, the sweet descants, also wrote a Life of Richard Hooker (1662), a Life
the natural rising and falling, the doubling and reof George Herbert (1670), and a Life of Bishop
doubling of her voice, might well be lifted above earth, Sanderson (1678). They are all exquisitely simple,
and say, “Lord, what music hast thou provided for the touching, and impressive. Though no man seems
saints in heaven, when thou affordest bad men such to have possessed his soul more patiently during the
music on earth !'” troublous times in which he lived, the venerable. The lover of hunting next takes his turn, and Izaak was tempted, in 1680, to write and publish comments, though with less force (for here Walton anonymously two letters on the Distempers of the himself must have been at fault), on the perfection of Times, written from a quiet and conformable citizen smell possessed by the hound, and the joyous musie of London to two busie and factious shopkeepers in made by a pack of dogs in full chase. Piscator then Coventry.' In 1683, when in his ninetieth year, he unfolds his long-treasured and highly-prized lore on published the Thealma and Clearchus of Chalkhill, the virtues of water-sea, river, and brook ; and on which we have previously noticed; and he died at the antiquity and excellence of fishing and angling. Winchester on the 15th December of the same year, The latter, he says, is somewhat like poetry : MER while residing with his son-in-law, Dr Hawkins, must be born so.' He quotes Scripture, and numbers prebendary of Winchester cathedral.
the prophets who allude to fishing. He also rememThe Complete Angler' of Walton is a production bers with pride that four of the twelve apostles were unique in our literature. In writing it, he says he fishermen, and that our Saviour never reproved them made. a recreation of a recreation,' and, by mingling for their employment or calling, as he did the Scribes innocent mirth and pleasant scenes with the graver and money-changers; for •He found that the hearts parts of his discourse, he designed it as a picture of of such men, by nature, were fitted for contemplation his own disposition. The work is, indeed, essentially and quietness; men of mild, and sweet, and peace autobiographical in spirit and execution. A hunter able spirits, as, indeed, most anglers are. The idea d and falconer are introduced as parties in the dia- angling seems to have unconsciously mixed itself logues, but they serve only as foils to the venerable with all Izaak Walton's speculations on goodness, and complacent Piscator, in whom the interest of loyalty, and veneration. Even worldly enjoyment the piece wholly centres. The opening scene lets us he appears to have grudged to any less gifted at once into the genial character of the work and its mortals. A finely-dressed dish of fish, or a rich drink, hero. The three interlocutors meet accidentally on he pronounces too good for any but anglers or very | Tottenham hill, near London, on a 'fine fresh May honest men: and his parting benediction is upon morning. They are open and cheerful as the day. all that are lovers of virtue, and dare trust in ProPiscator is going towards Ware, Venator to meet a vidence, and be quiet, and go a-angling. The last pack of other dogs upon Amwell hill, and Auceps to condition would, in his ordinary mood, when not Theobald's, to see a hawk that a friend there mews peculiarly solemn or earnest, be quite equivalent to or moults for him. Piscator willingly joins with the any of the others. The rhetoric and knowledge of lover of hounds in helping to destroy otters, for he Piscator at length fairly overcome Venator, and • hates them perfectly, because they love fish so well, make him a convert to the superiority of angling, as and destroy so much. The sportsmen proceed on- | compared with his more savage pursuit of hunting. wards together, and they agree each to 'commend his He agrees to accompany Piscator in his sport, adopts recreation' or favourite pursuit. Piscator alludes to him as his master and guide, and in time becomes the virtue and contentedness of anglers, but gives | initiated into the practice and mysteries of the gentle the precedence to his companions in discoursing on craft. The angling excursions of the pair give occatheir different crafts. The lover of hawking is elo-sion to the practical lessons and descriptions in the quent on the virtues of air, the element that he book, and elicit what is its greatest charm, the trades in, and on its various winged inhabitants. He minute and vivid painting of rural objects, the disdescribes the falcon 'making her highway over the play of character, both in action and conversation, steepest mountains and deepest rivers, and, in her the flow of generous sentiment and feeling, and the glorious career, looking with contempt upon those associated recollections of picturesque poetry, nahigh steeples and magnificent palaces which we adore tural piety, and examples and precepts of morality. and wonder at.' The singing birds, those little Add to this the easy elegance of Walton's style, nimble musicians of the air, that warble forth their sprinkled, but not obscured, by the antiquated idior! curious ditties with which nature hath furnished and expression of his times, and clear and sparkling, them to the shame of art,' are descanted upon with as one of his own favourite summer streams. Not pure poetical feeling and expression.
an hour of the fishing day is wasted or unimproved.
The master and scholar rise with the early dawn, * At first the lark, when she means to rejoice, to cheer and after four hours' fishing, breakfast at nine under herself and those that hear her, she then quits the l a sycamore that shades them from the sun's heat.
Old Piscator reads his admiring scholar a lesson on when sport and instruction are over, they repair to fly-fishing, and they sit and discourse while a the little alehouse, well-known to Piscator, where i smoking shower' passes off, freshening all the they find. a cleanly room, lavender in the windows, meadow and the flowers.
and twenty ballads stuck about the wall.' The hostess And now, scholar, I think it will be time to repair
is cleanly, handsome, and civil, and knows how to to our angle rods, which we left in the water to fish
dress the fish after Piscator's own fashion (he is for themselves ; and you shall choose which shall be
| learned in cookery); and having made a supper of yours; and it is an even lay, one of them catches.
their gallant trout, they drink their ale, tell tales, And, let me tell you, this kind of fishing with a
sing ballads, or join with a brother angler who drops dead rod, and laying night hooks, are like putting
in, in a merry catch, till sleep overpowers them, and money to use ; for they both work for their owners
they retire to the hostess' two beds, “the linen of when they do nothing but sleep, or eat, or rejoice, as
which looks white and smells of lavender.' All this you know we have done this last hour, and sat as
humble but happy painting is fresh as nature herquietly and as free from cares under this sycamore, as
self, and instinct with moral feeling and beauty. The | Virgil's Tityrus and his Melibæus did under their
only speck upon the brightness of old Piscator's bebroad beech tree. No life, my honest scholar, no life
nevolence is one arising from his entire devotion to so happy and so pleasant as the life of a well-governed
his art. He will allow no creature to take fish but angler; for when the lawyer is swallowed up with the angler, and concludes that any honest man may business, and the statesman is preventing or contriy-make a just quarrel with swan, geese, ducks, the ing plots, then we sit on cowslip banks, hear the birds serl-gull, heron, &c. His directions for making livesing, and possess ourselves in as much quietness as bait have subjected him to the charge of cruelty,* these silent silver streams which we now see glide so and are certainly curious enough. Painted flies seem quietly by us. Indeed, my good scholar, we may say not to have occurred to him; and the use of snails, of angling as Dr Boteler said of strawberries, “ Doubt-worms, &c., induced no compunctious visitings. For less God could have made a better berry, but doubt taking pike he recommends a perch, as the longest less God never did ;” and so (if I might be judge) | lived fish on a hook, and the poor frog is treated with "God never did make a more calm, quiet, innocent elaborate and extravagant inhumanity :recreation than angling."
And thus use your frog, that he may continue long I'll tell you, scholar, when I sat last on this prim- | alive: put your hook into his mouth, which you may rose bank, and looked down these meadows, I thought easily do from the middle of April till August ; and of them as Charles the Emperor did of the city of | then the frog's mouth grows up, and he continues so Florence, “ that they were too pleasant to be looked for at least six months without eating, but is sustained on but only on holidays.” As I then sat on this very none but He whose name is Wonderful knows how.
Tass, I turned my present thoughts into verse : 'twas I say, put your hook, I mean the arming wire, through a wish, which I'll repeat to you :
his mouth and out at his gills; and with a fine needle
and silk sew the upper part of his leg, with only one The Angler's Wish.
stitch, to the arming wire of your hook; or tie the I in these flowery meads would be ;
frog's leg above the upper joint to the armed wire; These crystal streams should solace me;
and, in so doing, use him as though you loved him, that To whose harmonious bubbling noise,
is, harın him as little as you may possible, that he may I with my angle would rejoice;
live the longer.' Sit here, and see the turtle-dove
Modern taste and feeling would recoil from such Court his chaste mate to acts of love;
experiments as these, and we may oppose to the Or on that bank feel the west wind
aberrations of the venerable Walton the philosophical Breathe health and plenty : please my mind,
maxim of WordsworthTo see sweet dew-drops kiss these flowers,
Never to blend our pleasure or our pride And then wash'd off by April showers;
With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels. Here, hear my Kenna sing a song ;
If this observation falls into the opposite extreme There, see a blackbird feed her young,
(seeing that it would, if rigidly interpreted, suppress Or a laverock build her nest :
field sports and many of the luxuries and amuseHere, give my weary spirits rest,
ments of life), we must claim, that it is an excess And raise my low-pitched thoughts above more amiable than that into which Piscator was led Earth, or what poor mortals love:
by his attachment to angling Towards the concluThus, free from law-suits and the noise sion of his work, Walton indulges in the following Of princes' courts, I would rejoice.
strain of moral reflection and admonition, and is as Or, with my Bryan! and a book,
philosophically just and wise in his counsels, as his Loiter long days near Shawford brook ;
language and imagery are chaste, beautiful, and aniThere sit by him, and eat my meat,
mated. There see the sun both rise and set, There bid good morning to next day,
[Thankfulness for Worldly Blessings.] There meditate my time away,
"Well, scholar, having now taught you to paint your And angle on; and beg to have
rod, and we having still a mile to Tottenham High A quiet passage to a welcome grave.'
Cross, I will, as we walk towards it in the cool shade The master and scholar, at another time. sit under of this sweet honeysuckle hedge, mention to you some a honeysuckle hedge while a shower falls, and en
of the thoughts and joys that have possessed my soul counter a handsome milkmaid and her mother, who since we met together. And these thoughts shall be sing to them that smooth song which was made by
told you, that you also may join with me in thankfulKit Marlow
ness to the Giver of every good and perfect gift for Come live with me, and be my love ;
* And angling, too, that solitary vice, and the answer to it, which was made by Sir
Whatever Izaak Walton sings or says; Walter Raleigh in his younger days. At night,
The quaint, old, cruel coxcomb, in his gullet
Should have a hook, and a small trout to pull it.' 1 Supposed to be the name of his dog.
Don Juan, Canto xiii.
our happiness. And that our present happiness may nature had made peevish, and her husband's riches appear to be the greater, and we the more thankful | had made purse-proud; and must, because she was for it, I will beg you to consider with me how many rich, and for no other virtue, sit in the highest per in do, even at this very time, lie under the torment of the church ; which being denied her, she engaged ber the stone, the gout, and toothache ; and this we are husband into a contention for it, and at last into & free from. And every misery that I miss is a new law-suit with a dogged neighbour, who was as rich as mercy; and therefore let us be thankful. There have he, and had a wife as peevish and purse-proud as the been, since we met, others that have met disasters of other; and this law-suit begot higher oppositions and broken limbs; some have been blasted, others thun- actionable words, and more vexations and law-suits ; der-strucken ; and we have been freed from these and for you must remember that both were rich, and must all those many other miseries that threaten human therefore have their wills. Well, this wilful pune nature: let us therefore rejoice and be thankful. Nay, proud law-suit lasted during the life of the first hus. which is a far greater mercy, we are free from the in- band, after which his wife vexed and chid, and chid supportable burden of an accusing, tormenting con- and vexed, till she also chid and vexed herself into science-a misery that none can bear; and therefore her grave; and so the wealth of these poor rich people let us praise Him for his preventing grace, and say, was cursed into a punishment, because they wanted Every misery that I miss is a new mercy. Nay, let meek and thankful hearts, for those only can make me tell you, there be many that have forty times our us happy. I knew a man that had health and riches, estates, that would give the greatest part of it to be and several houses, all beautiful and ready-furnished, healthful and cheerful like us, who, with the expense and would often trouble himself and family to be reof a little money, have eat, and drank, and laughed, moving from one house to another; and being asked and angled, and sung, and slept securely; and rose by a friend why he removed so often from one house next day, and cast away care, and sung, and laughed, to another, replied, " It was to find content in some one and angled again, which are blessings rich men can- of them." But his friend knowing his temper, told not purchase with all their money. Let me tell you, him, “ If he would find content in any of his houses, scholar, I have a rich neighbour that is always so he must leave himself behind him ; for content will busy that he has no leisure to laugh ; the whole busi- never dwell but in a meek and quiet soul.” And this ness of his life is to get money, and more money, that may appear, if we read and consider what our Savi. he may still get more and more money ; he is still our says in St Matthew's gospel, for he there says, drudging on, and says that Solomon says, “ The hand“ Blessed be the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. of the diligent maketh rich;" and it is true indeed : Blessed be the pure in heart, for they shall see God. but he considers not that it is not in the power of Blessed be the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingriches to make a man happy: for it was wisely said dom of heaven. . And blessed be the meek, for they by a man of great observation, "That there be as shall possess the earth.” Not that the meek shall many miseries beyond riches as on this side them.” not also obtain mercy, and see God, and be conAnd yet God deliver us from pinching poverty, and forted, and at last come to the kingdom of heaven; grant that, having a competency, we may be content but, in the meantime, he, and he only, possesses the and thankful! Let us not repine, or so much as earth, as he goes toward that kingdom of heaven, by think the gifts of God unequally dealt, if we see an- being humble and cheerful, and content with what other abound with riches, when, as God knows, the his good God has allotted him. He has no turbulent, cares that are the keys that keep those riches hang repining, vexatious thoughts that he deserves better; often so heavily at the rich man's girdle, that they nor is vexed when he sees others possessed of more clog him with weary days and restless nights, even honour or more riches than his wise God has allotted when others sleep quietly. We see but the outside of for his share ; but he possesses what he has with s the rich man's happiness ; few consider him to be like meek and contented quietness, such a quietness as the silkworm, that, when she seems to play, is at the makes his very dreams pleasing, both to God and very same time spinning her own bowels, and con- | himself. suming herself; and this many rich men do, loading My honest scholar, all this is told to incline you to themselves with corroding cares, to keep what they thankfulness; and, tó incline you the more, let me have, probably unconscionably got. Let us therefore tell you, that though the prophet David was guilty of be thankful for health and competence, and, above murder and adultery, and many other of the most all, for a quiet conscience.
deadly sins, yet he was said to be a man after God's Let me tell you, scholar, that Diogenes walked on own heart, because he abounded more with thankfula day, with his friend, to see a country fair, where he ness than any other that is mentioned in holy Scripsaw ribbons, and looking-glasses, and nut-crackers, | ture, as may appear in his book of Psalms, where and fiddles, and hobby-horses, and many other gim- there is such a commixture of his confessing of his cracks ; and having observed them, and all the other sins and unworthiness, and such thankfulness for finnimbruns that make a complete country fair, he God's pardon and mercies, as did make him to be said to his friend, “Lord, how many things are there accounted, even by God himself, to be a man after in this world of which Diogenes hath no need !” And his own heart: and let us, in that, labour to be as truly it is so, or might be so, with very many who vex like him as we can ; let not the blessings we receive and toil themselves to get what they have no need of. daily from God make us not to value, or not praise Can any man charge God that he hath not given him | Him, because they be common ; let not us forget to enough to make his life happy? No, doubtless ; for praise Him for the innocent mirth and pleasure we nature is content with a little. And yet you shall have met with since we met together. What would hardly meet with a man that complains not of some a blind man give to see the pleasant rivers, and meawant, though he, indeed, wants nothing but his will; dows, and flowers, and fountains, that we have met it may be, nothing but his will of his poor neighbour, with since we met together! I have been told, that for not worshipping or not flattering him: and thus, if a man that was born blind could obtain to have his when we might be happy and quiet, we create trouble sight for but only one hour during his whole life, and to ourselves. I have heard of a man that was angry should, at the first opening of his eyes, fix his sight with himself because he was no taller; and of a wo- upon the sun when it was in his full glory, either at man that broke her looking-glass because it would the rising or setting of it, he would be so transported not show her face to be as young and handsome as her and amazed, and so admire the glory of it, that he next neighbour's was. And I knew another to whom would not willingly turn his eyes from that first God had given health and plenty, but a wife that I ravishing object to behold all the other various besdi.