[Illustration]
An old gentleman sat down, one day, upon an acorn, and finding it a
very comfortable seat, went soundly to sleep. The warmth of his body
caused the acorn to germinate, and it grew so rapidly, that when the
sleeper awoke he found himself sitting in the fork of an oak, sixty
feet from the ground.
"Ah!" said he, "I am fond of having an extended view of any landscape
which happens to please my fancy; but this one does not seem to
possess that merit. I think I will go home."
It is easier to say go home than to go.
"Well, well!" he resumed, "if I cannot compel circumstances to my
will, I can at least adapt my will to circumstances. I decide to
remain. 'Life'--as a certain eminent philosopher in England wilt say,
whenever there shall be an England to say it in--'is the definite
combination of heterogeneous changes, both simultaneous and
successive, in correspondence with external co-existences and
sequences.' I have, fortunately, a few years of this before me yet;
and I suppose I can permit my surroundings to alter me into anything I
choose."
And he did; but what a choice!
I should say that the lesson hereby imparted is one of contentment
combined with science.