2
But all the difficulty lies in finding him; and the chiefest reason is that, instead of one choice true friend, nothing under a multitude will content us; like women of the town who admit the embraces of all gallants that come, at the gay appearance of the last which comes we neglect and slight the former, and so are unable to hold them. Or rather, like the foster-child of Hypsipyle, who in a green meadow sat cropping the flowers one after another, snatching each prize with delighted heart, insatiable in his childish joy, Εἰς τὸν λειμῶνα καθίσας ἔδρεπεν ἕτερον ἐφ’ ἑτέρῳ αἰρόμενος ἄγρευμα ἀνθέων ἡδομένᾳ ψυχᾷ, τὸ νήπιον ἄπληστον ἔχων. From the Hypsipyle of Euripides. —so we of riper years, from an inbred affection of novelty and disdain of things already possessed, take up presently with the first promising aspect of every fresh and new-blooming friend, and lay all at once the foundations of several acquaintances; but we leave each unfinished, and when we have scarce fixed on one, our love immediately palls there, while we passionately pursue some other.
