Surely The Fates Are Forever Kind, Though Nature's Laws Are More
Immutable Than Any Despot's, Yet To Man's Daily Life They Rarely
Seem Rigid, But Permit Him To Relax With License In Summer
Weather.
He is not harshly reminded of the things he may not
do.
She is very kind and liberal to all men of vicious habits,
and certainly does not deny them quarter; they do not die without
priest. Still they maintain life along the way, keeping this side
the Styx, still hearty, still resolute, "never better in their
lives"; and again, after a dozen years have elapsed, they start
up from behind a hedge, asking for work and wages for able-bodied
men. Who has not met such
"a beggar on the way,
Who sturdily could gang? ....
Who cared neither for wind nor wet,
In lands where'er he past?"
"That bold adopts each house he views, his own;
Makes every pulse his checquer, and, at pleasure,
Walks forth, and taxes all the world, like Caesar"; -
as if consistency were the secret of health, while the poor
inconsistent aspirant man, seeking to live a pure life, feeding
on air, divided against himself, cannot stand, but pines and dies
after a life of sickness, on beds of down.
The unwise are accustomed to speak as if some were not sick; but
methinks the difference between men in respect to health is not
great enough to lay much stress upon. Some are reputed sick and
some are not. It often happens that the sicker man is the nurse
to the sounder.
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