ould 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.

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

When I was a child of seven years old, my friends, on a holiday, filled
my pockets 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.

This, however, was afterward 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.

As I grew up I thought I met with many, very many, who _gave too much
for the whistle_.

When I saw one too ambitious of court favor, sacrificing his time, 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 another fond of popularity, constantly employing himself in
political bustles, neglecting his own affairs, and ruining them by that
neglect, _He pays, indeed_, said I, _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._

When I met with a man of pleasure, sacrificing every laudable
improvement of the mind, or of his fortune, to mere corporal 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._

If I see one fond of appearance, or fine clothes, fine houses, fine
furniture, fine equipages, all above