The Whistle

I am charmed with your description of Paradise, and with your plan of living there; and I approve much of your conclusion, that, in the meantime, we should draw all the good we can from this world. In my opinion, we might all draw more good from it than we do, and suffer less evil, if we would take care not to give too much for whistles. For to me it seems, that most of the unhappy people we meet with, are become so by neglect of that caution.

I am charmed by your description of Paradise and by your plan of living there. And I strongly approve of your conclusion that, in the meantime, we should draw all the good we can from this world. In my opinion, we might all draw more good from it than we do, and suffer less evil, if we would take care not to give too much for whistles. For it seems to me that most of the unhappy people we meet have become so by neglecting that caution.

You ask what I mean? You love stories, and will excuse my telling one of myself.

You ask what I mean? You love stories, so you'll forgive me for telling one about myself.

When I was a child of seven year old, my friends, on a holiday, filled my pocket with coppers. I went directly to a shop where they sold toys for children; and being charmed with the sound of a whistle, that I met by the way in the hands of another boy, I voluntarily offered and gave all my money for one. I then came home, and went whistling all over the house, much pleased with my whistle, but disturbing all the family. My brothers, and sisters, and cousins, understanding the bargain I had made, told me I had given four times as much for it as it was worth; put me in mind what good things I might have bought with the rest of the money; and laughed at me so much for my folly, that I cried with vexation; and the reflection gave me more chagrin than the whistle gave me pleasure.

When I was seven years old, my friends filled my pockets with copper coins on a holiday. I went straight to a toy shop. I was charmed by the sound of a whistle I heard from another boy. I offered and gave all my money for one. I then came home and went whistling all over the house. I was very pleased with my whistle, but I disturbed the whole family. My brothers, sisters, and cousins knew how much I had paid. They told me I had given four times what it was worth. They reminded me of the good things I could have bought with the rest of the money. They laughed at my foolishness so much that I cried with vexation. The thought upset me more than the whistle had pleased me.

This, however, was afterwards of use to me, the impression continuing on my mind; so that often, when I was tempted to buy some unnecessary thing, I said to myself, Don't give too much for the whistle; and I saved my money.

This, however, later proved useful to me. The impression stayed with me. Often, when I was tempted to buy something unnecessary, I would say to myself, Don't give too much for the whistle. So I saved my money.

As I grew up, came into the world, and observed the actions of men, I thought I met with many, very many, who gave too much for the whistle.

As I grew up and entered the world, I observed people's actions. I thought I met many, very many, who gave too much for the whistle.

When I saw one too ambitious of court favor, sacrificing his time in attendance on levees, his repose, his liberty, his virtue, and perhaps his friends, to attain it, I have said to myself, This man gives too much for his whistle.

When I saw someone overly eager for favor at court, I noticed what he gave up. He sacrificed his time attending levees. He gave up his rest, his liberty, his virtue, and perhaps his friends to get it. I said to myself, This man gives too much for his whistle.

When I saw another fond of popularity, constantly employing himself in political bustles, neglecting his own affairs, and ruining them by neglect, He pays, indeed, said I, too much for his whistle.

I saw another person who loved popularity. He kept busy in political fusses. He neglected his own affairs and ruined them by neglect. He pays, indeed, I said, too much for his whistle.

If I knew a miser who gave up every kind of comfortable living, all the pleasure of doing good to others, all the esteem of his fellow citizens, and the joys of benevolent friendship, for the sake of accumulating wealth, Poor man, said I, you pay too much for your whistle.

If I knew a miser who gave up every kind of comfortable living, I would say this. He gave up the pleasure of doing good to others. He gave up the esteem of his fellow citizens. He gave up the joys of generous friendship. He did it all just to accumulate wealth. Poor man, I said, you pay too much for your whistle.

When I met with a man of pleasure, sacrificing every laudable improvement of the mind, or of his fortune, to mere corporeal sensations, and ruining his health in their pursuit, Mistaken man, said I, you are providing pain for yourself, instead of pleasure; you give too much for your whistle.

I met a pleasure-seeker who sacrificed every worthwhile improvement of his mind or fortune to mere bodily sensations. He ruined his health chasing them. I said, Mistaken man, you are giving yourself pain instead of pleasure. You pay too high a price for your whistle.

If I see one fond of appearance, or fine clothes, fine houses, fine furniture, fine equipages, all above his fortune, for which he contracts debts, and ends his career in a prison, Alas! say I, he has paid dear, very dear, for his whistle.

If I see someone fond of appearances, or of fine clothes, fine houses, fine furniture, and fine carriages, all beyond his means, who runs into debt for them and ends his career in prison, Alas! I say, he has paid dearly, very dearly, for his whistle.

When I see a beautiful, sweet-tempered girl married to an ill-natured brute of a husband, What a pity, say I, that she should pay so much for a whistle!

When I see a beautiful, sweet-tempered girl married to an ill-natured brute as her husband, I say, What a pity. That she should pay so much for a whistle!

In short, I conceive that great part of the miseries of mankind are brought upon them by the false estimates they have made of the value of things, and by their giving too much for their whistles.

In short, I believe much of people's suffering comes from wrong estimates of the value of things. It also comes from their giving too much for their whistles.

Yet I ought to have charity for these unhappy people, when I consider, that, with all this wisdom of which I am boasting, there are certain things in the world so tempting, for example, the apples of King John, which happily are not to be bought; for if they were put to sale by auction, I might very easily be led to ruin myself in the purchase, and find that I had once more given too much for the whistle.

I should feel compassion for these unfortunate people. Even with all the wisdom I boast about, some things in the world are still very tempting. For example, the apples of King John are thankfully not for sale. If they were put up at auction, I might easily ruin myself buying them. I might once more find that I had paid too much for the whistle.

Adieu, my dear friend, and believe me ever yours very sincerely and with unalterable affection,

Goodbye, my dear friend. Believe that I am always yours, sincerely and with unchanging affection.