the airs of a bred-and-born Solomon, and if it be up to his standard, he lays on his praise with a trowel; but, if it be not to his taste, he growls and barks and snaps at it like a dog at a hedgehog.  Wise men in this world are like trees in a hedge, there is only here and there one; and when these rare men talk together upon a discourse, it is good for the ears to hear them; but the bragging wiseacres I am speaking of are vainly puffed up by their fleshly minds, and their quibbling is as senseless as the cackle of geese on a common.  Nothing comes out of a sack but what was in it, and, as their bag is empty, they shake nothing but wind out of it.  It is very likely that neither ministers nor their sermons are perfect—­the best garden may have a few weeds in it, the cleanest corn may have some chaff—­but cavilers cavil at any thing or nothing, and find fault for the sake of showing off their deep knowledge; sooner than let their tongues have a holiday, they would complain that the grass is not a nice shade of blue, and say that the sky would have looked neater if it had been whitewashed.

GOOD-NATURE AND FIRMNESS.

Do not be all sugar, or the world will suck you down; but do not be all vinegar, or the world will spit you out.  There is a medium in all things; only blockheads go to extremes.  We need not be all rock or all sand, all iron or all wax.  We should neither fawn upon every body like silly lap-dogs, nor fly at all persons like surly mastiffs.  Blacks and whites go together to make up a world, and hence, on the point of temper, we have all sorts of people to deal with.  Some are as easy as an old shoe, but they are hardly ever worth more than the other one of the pair; and others take fire as fast as tinder at the smallest offense, and are as dangerous as gunpowder.  To have a fellow going about the farm as cross with every body as a bear with a sore head, with a temper as sour as verjuice and as sharp as a razor, looking as surly as a butcher’s dog, is a great nuisance; and yet there may be some good points about the man, so that he may be a man for all that; but poor, soft Tommy, as green as grass and as ready to bend as a willow, is nobody’s money and every body’s scorn.  A man must have a backbone, or how is he to hold his head up?  But that backbone must bend, or he will knock his brow against the beam.

There is a time to do as others wish, and a time to refuse.  We may make ourselves asses, and then every body will ride us; but, if we would be respected, we must be our own masters, and not let others saddle us as they think fit.  If we try to please every body, we shall be like a toad under a harrow, and never have peace; and, if we play lackey to all our neighbors, whether good or bad, we shall be thanked by no one, for we shall soon do as much harm as good.  He that makes himself a sheep will find that the wolves are not all dead.  He who lies on the ground must expect to be trodden on.  He who makes himself a mouse, the cats will eat him.  If you let your neighbors put the calf on your shoulders, they will soon clap on the cow.  We are to please our neighbor for his good to edification, but this is quite another matter.