and follow one another, as the sea waves; and if we scape Scylla, we fall foul on Charybdis, and so in perpetual fear, labour, anguish, we run from one plague, one mischief, one burden to another, duram servientes servitutem, and you may as soon separate weight from lead, heat from fire, moistness from water, brightness from the sun, as misery, discontent, care, calamity, danger, from a man.  Our towns and cities are but so many dwellings of human misery.  “In which grief and sorrow” ([1763]as he right well observes out of Solon) “innumerable troubles, labours of mortal men, and all manner of vices, are included, as in so many pens.”  Our villages are like molehills, and men as so many emmets, busy, busy still, going to and fro, in and out, and crossing one another’s projects, as the lines of several sea-cards cut each other in a globe or map.  “Now light and merry,” but ([1764]as one follows it) “by-and-by sorrowful and heavy; now hoping, then distrusting; now patient, tomorrow crying out; now pale, then red; running, sitting, sweating, trembling, halting,” &c.  Some few amongst the rest, or perhaps one of a thousand, may be Pullus Jovis, in the world’s esteem, Gallinae filius albae, an happy and fortunate man, ad invidiam felix, because rich, fair, well allied, in honour and office; yet peradventure ask himself, and he will say, that of all others [1765]he is most miserable and unhappy.  A fair shoe, Hic soccus novus, elegans, as he [1766]said, sed nescis ubi urat, but thou knowest not where it pincheth.  It is not another man’s opinion can make me happy:  but as [1767]Seneca well hath it, “He is a miserable wretch that doth not account himself happy, though he be sovereign lord of a world:  he is not happy, if he think himself not to be so; for what availeth it what thine estate is, or seem to others, if thou thyself dislike it?” A common humour it is of all men to think well of other men’s fortunes, and dislike their own:  [1768]_Cui placet alterius, sua nimirum est odio sors_; but [1769]_qui fit Mecoenas_, &c., how comes it to pass, what’s the cause of it?  Many men are of such a perverse nature, they are well pleased with nothing, (saith [1770] Theodoret,) “neither with riches nor poverty, they complain when they are well and when they are sick, grumble at all fortunes, prosperity and adversity; they are troubled in a cheap year, in a barren, plenty or not plenty, nothing pleaseth them, war nor peace, with children, nor without.”  This for the most part is the humour of us all, to be discontent, miserable, and most unhappy, as we think at least; and show me him that is not so, or that ever was otherwise.  Quintus Metellus his felicity is infinitely admired amongst the Romans, insomuch that as [1771]Paterculus mentioneth of him, you can scarce find of any nation, order, age, sex, one for happiness to be compared unto him:  he had, in a word, Bona animi, corporis et fortunae, goods of mind, body, and fortune, so had P. Mutianus,