They that would still have more and more, can never have Enough; No, Not
if a Miracle should Interpose to Gratify their Avarice; for it makes Men
Unthankful to the Highest Degree, not only in General, for the Benefits
they Receive, but in particular also to the very Benefactors Themselves.
If the Nearest Friend a Covetous Man has in the World, had really a Mine
in his Guts, he’d Rip him up to Find it: For his Bus’ness is to make
the Most of what he has, and of what he can get, without any regard to
the Course of Providence, or of Nature: And what’s the End of All These
Unreasonable Desires, but Loss, Sorrow, and Disappointment? The True
Intent of This Fable is to Possess us of a Just Sense of the Vanity and
Folly of these Craving Appetites. If the Woman could have been Contented
with Golden Eggs, she might have kept That Revenue on still; but when
Nothing less then the _Mine it self_ would serve her, she lost _Hen, Eggs
and All_.