The _Ass_’s _Wish_ here, is the Lively Image of a Foolish, and a
Miserable Levity of Mind; and, in Truth, there is but too much in’t of
the Figure, and the Bus’ness of Humane Life; for we spend our Days in
a kind of Lazy Restless Indisposition, that looks as if we would fain
be doing something, and yet never goes further, then to a Shifting from
One Proposition to Another. _Wishing and Woulding_, (as they say) has
somewhat in it of an Analogy to Stretching, and Yawning; We only Drowse
when we think we Live, and our Time runs away in Fancying _Castles in the
Air_, and in putting of Cases. The Inference that we are to draw from
hence is This; If an Unsettled Head and Heart be so Grievous a Calamity,
the Squaring of a Man’s Thoughts, Wishes, and Desires, to the Lot that
Providence has set Out for him, is both a Blessing, and a Duty.
He that is still Weary of the Present, shall be most certainly
Sollicitous for the Future. For the Present is only the Course of so many
Moments into time to Come. He that Gapes after he knows not what, shall
be sure to Lose his Longing. He Changes, out of Restlesness, not Choice,
and so long as he carries the same Mind about him, the Circumstances
of his Condition will never Alter the Case. His Present Thoughts are
Uneasy, because his Present State does not Please him, and so he goes
on at a Venture, Shifting and Casting about for somewhat else that may
better Agree with him. The Batchelor wants a Wife; The Marry’d Man wants
his Liberty; The Statesman has a Mind to be Private. The Country-man
lives out of the World: The Man of Bus’ness is a Slave to’t; And he
that’s out of Employment, makes it his Excuse, that he is forc’d to Drink
or Whore for want of somewhat else to do. There’s no Measure to be taken
of an Unsteady Mind; but still ’tis either too Much, or too Little; too
Soon, or too Late. The Love of Novelty begets, and Encreases the Love of
Novelty; and the oftner we Change, the more Dangerous and Troublesome do
we find This Itch of Variety to be. The _Ass_ was Sick of the _Spring_;
_Sicker_ yet of the _Summer_; _more Sick_ still of _Autumn_; and _Sickest
of All_ of the _Winter_; till he’s brought, in the End, to Compound for
his First Condition again, and so take up with That for his Satisfaction,
which he reckon’d upon before for his Misfortune.
This it is, when Fickle and Foolish People will be Prescribing To, and
Refining upon the Wise and Gracious Appointments of the Maker of the
World. They know not what they Are, and they know not what they Would be,
any further, then that they would not be what they are. Let their Present
State in the World be what it will, there’s still something or other
in’t that makes their Life Wearysome: And they are as Peevish Company
to Themselves too, as they are to their Neighbours; for there’s not One
Circumstance in Nature, but they shall find Matter to Pick a Quarrel at:
Let it be Health, Fortune, Conversation, Kindred, Friends, it will be
all a Case, so long as Weak, and Wayward Men shall go on Grumbling, and
Civelling at the Works and Dispensations of Heaven. Were it not better
now for People to be Quiet at first; and to sit down contentedly in the
Post where Providence has Plac’d them? Were it not better to do the Great
Work of Life Betimes, by the Help of a Seasonable Prudence and Vertue,
then to Deliver up our selves to the Torments of Hopes and Fears, and be
forc’d to do’t at last, by the Dear-bought Experience of our Follies, and
the Necessity of giving over what we can do no Longer?
This is not yet to bar Honest Industry, or a Sober Application to those
Ways, Studies, or Means that may probably Contribute to the Mending of
a Man’s Fortune: Provided that he set up his Resolution before hand,
not to let himself down below the Dignity of a Wise Man, be the Issue
of his Endeavours what it will. He that is not Content at Present,
carries the same Weakness along with him to his next Remove; for whoever
either Passionately Covets any thing that he has Not, or feels himself
Glutted with a Satiety of what he Possesses, has already lost his Hold:
So that if we would be Happy, we must Fix upon some Foundation that can
never Deceive us; and Govern our selves by the Measures of Sobriety and
Justice. All the rest is but the _Ass_’s _Circulation_ of more and more
Anxiety and Trouble.