thrusting his head into a hole, thinks none of the rest of his body can be visible.

THAT THE MIND ONLY MAKES CONTENT.

WE see it is neither ease, nor labor, nor wealth, nor want, that seats a man in either pleasure or discontent. Some men, with liberty, leisure, plenty, and rest, have less satisfaction than those that toil in sweating pains and labor; and others, even in pleasure, do that which would wear out all the happiness of him that is not that way affected. Repose to an active mind is a tedious and an irksome thing. And therefore to him that hath not business, play is taken up instead of it; and even that, after a little time, does tire as much as business, and, in the sequel, usually galleth more. We see in those, that have plenty to please themselves in all they can imagine, that by their wealth may make summer and winter at will, and that seem to others to command all the walks in Paradise, and the birds to warble what they shall but bid them; yet this high shine but makes them nice and wanton, that for want of other divertisements, they quarrel

with their own felicity, and strangle by their curiousness even all that Providence intended should be pleasing; as full and queasy stomachs do often coy at that, which the hungry would accept of for delicious. When Apicius found but one hundred thousand sesterces was all at last was left him, with shame, in scorn, he quaffed his poisoned draught, and died.

"Quid enim majore cachinno Excipitur populi, quam pauper Apicius ? "

"For what can people jeer at more,

Than once to hear Apicius is grown poor?"

Even content turns to vexation, and we are weary with having nothing to weary us. All the winds in the compass cannot blow one gale that some men shall be pleased with. A froward mind makes all the muses furies; like bodies over fat, they are burthened with their own loved load. Nor can men so attempered enjoy themselves in all the smiles of fortune. The lily seems too pale, and the rose's smell is fulsome. Some men are so cast together of jealousy, envy, pride, and choler, that, like savage beasts, they are ready to tear, not only those that seek to tie them up, but such as loose their chains, and bring them food to live with. Tell them what is distasteful, or tell

them what is pleasing, they shall carp at both alike. As kindling charcoal, they shall throw out sparks and crackle, though you shall not blow them. Contradict them, they shall twit; say as they say, they shall blurt and snarl. As wasps, disturbed or let alone, they buzz and angry make a noise about you. Being of a nice and tender spirit, nor heat nor cold can be endured by them. As arrows, whose feathers are not even set, draw them never so home, and shoot them from what bow you will, they shall never fly right to the mark. Their own dispositions make but a milder and more terrene hell. What a pitiful little pique took Ha

man from all his content!

On the other side, where the mind does incline, and is pleased to gratify the smoothed affections, all things seem to have a serene aspect; as through a stranguo the air is all delightful, and all the colors that do enrich the rainbow make it beautiful. Do we not even with wonder often see, how there are many that take pleasure in toil? They can out-rise the sun, out-watch the moon, and out-run the field's wild beast. Merely out of fancy and delectation, they can find out mirth in vociferation, and music in the barking of dogs, and be content to be led about the earth, over hedges and through sloughs, by the windings and the shifts

of a poor affrighted vermin; yet, after all, come off, as Messalina from her wantonness, tired and not satisfied with all that the brutes can do. But were a man enjoined to this, that did not like it, how tedious and how punishable to him would it prove! Since in itself it differs not from riding post, or, putting a wise man, from following and humoring the motions of a child or simple animal.

Let no man therefore wonder at the several contentments of men; for, unless the desires of men be bounded with prudence and moderation, the appetite of the mind is various as the palate of the body, for which no man can give a reason. As he is like to be most at ease in his journey, that likes the pace of the beast he rides on, so is he that can bring his mind to approve of that condition God hath set him in. And since the mind alone is judge of pleasure, it is not what others apprehend, but what the party fancies to himself, that satisfies.

OF PLAY AND GAMING.

THE Olympic and the rest of the games of Greece were instituted first merely for honor and exercise; and though they wanted not

wealth, yet their rewards were not in money and treasures, but only in wreaths and garlands, of such slight plants as were easy to come by and common among them. Chiefly, they had but four kinds of plays, for being victors in which they were

"With pine, with apple, olive, parsley crowned;" "Serta quibus, pinus, malus, oliva, apium;"

as Ausonius informs us; though afterwards, with higher plaudits and acclamations, they came to have pensions and provisions from the public for life.

But these and such like are not much to be faulted; for their institution was handsome, and their end and aim was good. The play that is most complainable, is the inordinate gaming for money, which he that first invented, was certainly either very idle, or else extremely covetous. Albeit in the sequel it cheats the intention in both; for who so busy as they that are intent at dice? Their soul and senses run along with them; and seldom it is that they give men leave to be moderate. And instead of gaining, it wastes even what we had without it. Some inform us, they were first invented by Palamedes in the Trojan war, in that ten years' siege to keep his soldiers from idleness. And the truth is, it may suit better with their