tly large? Has not the royal majesty
been more than once there entertained with all its train? Are there not
more below your family in good ease than there are above it in eminence?
Is there any local, extraordinary, indigestible thought that afflicts
you?"

"Qua to nunc coquat, et vexet sub pectore fixa."

["That may now worry you, and vex, fixed in your breast."
--Cicero, De Senect, c. 1, Ex Ennio.]

"Where do you think to live without disturbance?"

"Nunquam simpliciter Fortuna indulget."

["Fortune is never simply complaisant (unmixed)."
--Quintus Curtius, iv. 14]

You see, then, it is only you that trouble yourself; you will everywhere
follow yourself, and everywhere complain; for there is no satisfaction
here below, but either for brutish or for divine souls. He who, on so
just an occasion, has no contentment, where will he think to find it?
How many thousands of men terminate their wishes in such a condition as
yours? Do but reform yourself; for that is wholly in your own power!
whereas you have no other right but patience towards fortune:

"Nulla placida quies est, nisi quam ratio composuit."

["There is no tranquillity but that which reason has conferred."
--Seneca, Ep., 56.]

I see the reason of this advice, and see it perfectly well; but he might
sooner have done, and more pertinently, in bidding me in one word be
wise; that resolution is beyond wisdom; 'tis her precise work and
product. Thus the physician keeps preaching to a poor languishing
patient to "be cheerful"; but he would advise him a little more
discreetly in bidding him "be well." For my part, I am but a man of the
common sort. 'Tis a wholesome precept, certain and easy to be
understood, "Be content with what you have," that is to say, with reason:
and yet to follow this advice is no more in the power of the wise men of
the world than in me. 'Tis a common saying, but of a terrible extent:
what does it not comprehend? All things fall under discretion and
qualification. I know very well that, to take it by the letter, this
pleasure of travelling is a testimony of uneasiness and irresolution,
and, in sooth, these two are our governing and predominating qualities.
Yes, I confess, I see nothing, not so much as in a dream, in a wish,
whereon I could set up my rest: variety only, and the possession of
diversity, can satisfy me; that is, if anythin