"Nulla placida quies est, nisi quam ratio composuit."

["There is no tranquillity but that which reason has conferred."
--Seneca, Ep., 56.]

I see the reason of this advice, and see it perfectly well; but he might
sooner have done, and more pertinently, in bidding me in one word be
wise; that resolution is beyond wisdom; 'tis her precise work and
product. Thus the physician keeps preaching to a poor languishing
patient to "be cheerful"; but he would advise him a little more
discreetly in bidding him "be well." For my part, I am but a man of the
common sort. 'Tis a wholesome precept, certain and easy to be
understood, "Be content with what you have," that is to say, with reason:
and yet to follow this advice is no more in the power of the wise men of
the world than in me. 'Tis a common saying, but of a terrible extent:
what does it not comprehend? All things fall under discretion and
qualification. I know very well that, to take it by the letter, this
pleasure of travelling is a testimony of uneasiness and irresolution,
and, in sooth, these two are our governing and predominating qualities.
Yes, I confess, I see nothing, not so much as in a dream, in a wish,
whereon I could set up my rest: variety only, and the possession of
diversity, can satisfy me; that is, if anything can. In travelling, it
pleases me that I may stay where I like, without inconvenience, and that
I have a place wherein commodiously to divert myself. I love a private
life, because 'tis my own choice that I love it, not by any dissenting
from or dislike of public life, which, peradventure, is as much according
to my complexion. I serve my prince more cheerfully because it is by the
free election of my own judgment and reason, without any particular
obligation; and that I am not reduced and constrained so to do for being
rejected or disliked by the other party; and so of all the rest. I hate