"Among the many and various hospitals," says Sir William Temple, "that are
every man's curiosity and talk, that travels their country, I was affected
with none more than that of the aged seamen at Enchuysen, which is
contrived, finished, and ordered, as if it were done with a kind of
intention of some well-natured man, that those who had been their whole
lives in the hardships and incommodities of the sea, should find a retreat
with all the eases and conveniences that old age is capable of feeling and
enjoying. And here I met with the _only_ rich man that I ever saw in my
life--for one of these old seamen entertaining me a good while with the
plain stories of his fifty years voyages and adventures, while I was
viewing the hospital and the church adjoining; I gave him, at parting, a
piece of their coin, about the value of a crown; he took it and smiled,
and offered it me again; but when I refused it, he asked me 'What he
should do with money?' I left him to overcome his modesty as he could; but
a servant coming after me, saw him give it to a little girl that opened
the church door, as she passed by him; which made me reflect upon the
fantastic calculation of riches and poverty that is current in the world,
by which a man that wants a million, is a prince; he that wants but a
groat is a beggar; and this was a poor man that wanted nothing at all."
* * * * *