who had three pins, and who gave himself employment by throwing them
into the air and then beginning the long search which should finally
secure them. Sometimes a pin would be hidden for years in a crevice. In
this way the prisoner preserved his mind from utter decay, and was
almost happy--nay, was really happy when his arduous labor would result
in the discovery of all three of the objects of his pitiful quest.
Instances like this should impress upon us the fact that the principal
sum of our happiness is inalienable. We cannot, in health, possibly lose
it. The hale pauper is far better off than the invalid Duke. We breathe
and eat and see and hear with ease. All of those offices of the body are
unquestionably delightful, as is proven by the relative view we get when
we are ill and can neither breathe nor eat nor see nor hear without
great suffering. "There is scarce any lot so low," says Sterne, "but
there is something in it to satisfy the man whom it has befallen." The
reason of this lies in this same fact that when the tree of happiness
loses superfluous wealth, it but loses its foliage.