"No," said the smith, "turn on, turn on;
we shall have it bright by-and-by; as yet, it is only speckled."
"Yes," said the man, "but I think I like a speckled ax best."
And I believe this may have been the case with many, who, having,
for want of some such means as I employ'd, found the difficulty
of obtaining good and breaking bad habits in other points of vice
and virtue, have given up the struggle, and concluded that "a
speckled ax was best"; for something, that pretended to be reason,
was every now and then suggesting to me that such extream nicety as I
exacted of myself might be a kind of foppery in morals, which, if it
were known, would make me ridiculous; that a perfect character
might be attended with the inconvenience of being envied and hated;
and that a benevolent man should allow a few faults in himself,
to keep his friends in countenance.
In truth, I found myself incorrigible with respect to Order;
and now I am grown old, and my memory bad, I feel very sensibly
the want of it. But, on the whole, tho' I never arrived at
the perfection I had been so ambitious of obtaining, but fell far
short of it, yet I was, by the endeavour, a better and a happier
man than I otherwise should have been if I had not attempted it;
as those who aim at perfect writing by imitating the engraved copies,
tho' they never reach the wish'd-for excellence of those copies,
their hand is mended by the endeavor, and is tolerable while it
continues fair and legible.
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