levees, his repoſe, his liberty, his virtue, and perhaps his friends, to attain it, I have ſaid to myſelf, This man gives too much for his whiſtle.
When I ſaw another fond of popularity, conſtantly employing himſelf in political buſtles, neglecting his own affairs, and ruining them by that neglect: He pays, indeed ſays I, too much for his whiſtle.
If I knew a miſer, who gave up every kind of comfortable living, all the pleaſure of doing good to others, all the eſteem of his fellow-citizens, and the joys of benevolent friendſhip, for the ſake of accumulating wealth; Poor man, ſays I, you do indeed pay too much for your whiſtle.
When I meet a man of pleaſure, ſacrificing every laudable improvement of the mind, or of his fortune, to mere corporeal ſenſations; Miſtaken man, ſays I, you are providing pain for yourſelf, inſtead of pleaſure: you give too much for your whiſtle.
If I ſee one fond of fine clothes, fine furniture, fine equipages, all above his fortune, for which he contracts debts, and ends his career in priſon; Alas, ſays I, he has paid dear, very dear, for his whiſtle.
When I ſee a beautiful, ſweet-tempered girl married to an ill-natured brute of a huſband: What a pity it is, ſays I, that ſhe has paid ſo much for a whistle!
In ſhort, I conceived that great part of the miſeries of mankind were brought upon them by the falſe eſtimates they had made of the value of things, and by their giving too much for their whiſtles.
