This fable seems intended to show us how miserable some people make
themselves by a wrong choice, when they have all the good things in the
world spread before them to choose out of. In short, if that one
particular of judgment be wanting, it is not in the power of the
greatest monarch upon earth, nor of the repeated smiles of fortune, to
make us happy. It is the want or possession of a good judgment which
oftentimes makes the prince a poor wretch, and the poor philosopher
completely easy. Now, the first and chief degree of judgment is to know
one's self; to be able to make a tolerable estimate of one's own
capacity, so as not to speak or undertake any thing which may either
injure or make us ridiculous: and yet (as wonderful as it is) there have
been men of allowed good sense in particular, and possessed of all
desirable qualifications in general, to make life delightful and
agreeable, who have unhappily contrived to match themselves with women
of a genius and temper necessarily tending to blast their peace. This
proceeds from some unaccountable blindness: but when wealthy plebeians,
of mean extraction and unrefined education, as an equivalent for their
money, demand brides out of the nurseries of our peerage, their being
despised, or at least overlooked, is so unavoidable, unless in
extraordinary cases, that nothing but a false taste of glory could make
them enter upon a scheme so inconsistent and unpromising.