A RICH MAN.
"Among the many and various hospitals," says Sir William Temple, "that are every man's curiosity and talk, that travels their country, I was affected with none more than that of the aged seamen at Enchuysen, which is contrived, finished, and ordered, as if it were done with a kind of intention of some well-natured man, that those who had been their whole lives in the hardships and incommodities of the sea, should find a retreat with all the eases and conveniences that old age is capable of feeling and enjoying. And here I met with the only rich man that I ever saw in my life—for one of these old seamen entertaining me a good while with the plain stories of his fifty years voyages and adventures, while I was viewing the hospital and the church adjoining; I gave him, at parting, a piece of their coin, about the value of a crown; he took it and smiled, and offered it me again; but when I refused it, he asked me 'What he should do with money?' I left him to overcome his modesty as he could; but a servant coming after me, saw him give it to a little girl that opened the church door, as she passed by him; which made me reflect upon the fantastic calculation of riches and poverty that is current in the world, by which a man that wants a million, is a prince; he that wants but a groat is a beggar; and this was a poor man that wanted nothing at all."