r the sum he aimed at for his own use was
attained. Yet he did not slacken his industry, but to a decent old age
spent the life and fortune which was superfluous to himself, in the
service of his friends and neighbors."

Here we were called to dinner, and Sir Roger ended the discourse of
this gentleman, by telling me, as we followed the servant, that this
his ancestor was a brave man, and narrowly escaped being killed in the
civil wars. "For," said he, "he was sent out of the field upon a
private message the day before the battle of Worcester." The whim of
narrowly escaping by having been within a day of danger, with other
matters above mentioned, mixed with good sense, left me at a loss
whether I was more delighted with my friend's wisdom or simplicity.

V

ON CERTAIN SYMPTOMS OF GREATNESS[4]

There is no affection of the mind so much blended in human nature, and
wrought into our very constitution, as pride. It appears under a
multitude of disguises, and breaks out in ten thousand different
symptoms. Every one feels it in himself, and yet wonders to see it in
his neighbor. I must confess, I met with an instance of it the other
day where I should very little have expected it. Who would believe the
proud person I am going to speak of is a cobbler upon Ludgate hill?
This artist being naturally a lover of respect, and considering that
his circumstances are such that no man living will give it him, has
contrived the figure of a beau, in wood; who stands before him in a
bending posture, with his hat under his left arm, and his right hand
extended in such a manner as to hold a thread, a piece of wax, or an
awl, according to the particular service in which his master thinks
fit to employ him. When I saw him, he held a candle in this obsequious
posture. I was very well pleased with the cobbler's invention, that
had so ingeniously contrived an inferior, and stood a little while
contemplating this inverted idolatry, wherein the image did homage to
the man. When we meet with such a fantastic vanity in one of this
order, it is no wonder if we may trace it through all degrees above
it, and particularly through all the steps of greatness.

We easily see the absurdity of pride when it enters into the heart of
a cobbler; tho in reality it is altogether as ridiculous and
unreasonable, wherever it takes possession of a human creature. There
is no temptation to it from the reflection upon our being in general,
or upon any co