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		<title>Steele, Richard -- Essay (1710-06-06), &#8220;On the Death of Friends,&#8221; The Tatler, No. 181</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/steele-richard/85605/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Aug 2026 17:53:46 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Steele, Richard]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[affliction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[consideration]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[contemplation]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[emotion]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[grief]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[Though it is by the benefit of nature that length of time thus blots out the violence of afflictions; yet with tempers too much given to pleasure, it is almost necessary to revive the old places of grief in our memory, and ponder step by step on past life, to lead the mind into that [&#8230;]]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Though it is by the benefit of nature that length of time thus blots out the violence of afflictions; yet with tempers too much given to pleasure, it is almost necessary to revive the old places of grief in our memory, and ponder step by step on past life, to lead the mind into that sobriety of thought which poises the heart, and makes it beat with due time, without being quickened with desire, or retarded with despair, from its proper and equal motion.</p>
<br><b>Richard Steele</b> (1672–1729) Anglo-Irish writer, journalist, playwright, politician<br>Essay (1710-06-06), &#8220;On the Death of Friends,&#8221; <i>The Tatler</i>, No. 181 
						<br><br><span class="cite">
						

Steele did not provide a title when this essay was published in <i>The Tatler</i>. It is also sometimes called "On Recollections of Childhood." It was published under Steele's pseudonym, Isaac Bickerstaff.
						</span>
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		<title>Horace -- Satires [Saturae, Sermones], Book 1, #  1 &#8220;Qui fit, Mæcenas,&#8221; l.  64ff (1.1.64-67) (35 BC) [tr. Conington (1874)]</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/horace/75284/</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 28 Feb 2025 22:26:43 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Horace]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[avarice]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[booing]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[Like the Athenian miser, who was wont To meet men&#8217;s curses with a hero&#8217;s front: &#8220;Folks hiss me,&#8221; said he, &#8220;but myself I clap When I tell o&#8217;er my treasures on my lap.&#8221; [Ut quidam memoratur Athenis sordidus ac dives, populi contemnere voces sic solitus: &#8216;populus me sibilat, at mihi plaudo ipse domi, simul ac [&#8230;]]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Like the Athenian miser, who was wont<br />
To meet men&#8217;s curses with a hero&#8217;s front:<br />
&#8220;Folks hiss me,&#8221; said he, &#8220;but myself I clap<br />
When I tell o&#8217;er my treasures on my lap.&#8221;</p>
<p><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><em>[Ut quidam memoratur Athenis<br />
sordidus ac dives, populi contemnere voces<br />
sic solitus: &#8216;populus me sibilat, at mihi plaudo<br />
ipse domi, simul ac nummos contemplor in arca.&#8217;]</em></span></span></span></span></span></p>
<br><b>Horace</b> (65–8 BC) Roman poet, satirist, soldier, politician [Quintus Horatius Flaccus]<br><i>Satires [Saturae, Sermones]</i>, Book 1, #  1 <i>&#8220;Qui fit, Mæcenas,&#8221;</i> l.  64ff (1.1.64-67) (35 BC) [tr. Conington (1874)] 
						<br><br><span class="cite">
						

(<a href="https://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.02.0062%3Abook%3D1%3Apoem%3D1#:~:text=ut%20quidam%20memoratur,in%20arca.%27">Source (Latin)</a>). Other translations:<br><br>

<blockquote>Such one we reade of in olde tyme, that dwelte in Athins towne,<br>
A man in substance passinge rytche, nathlesse a niggerde cloune,<br>
At whose scarceheade, and covetyce the worlde did outas make,<br>
But all in vayne, he forste it not, he sought not howe to slake<br>
Blacke fame, that frisked everye wheare, and bounsed at ytche eare,<br>
"A figge for them (brasen face) I force not howe I heare,<br>
"They hauke, they hem, they hisse at me, I weygh it not an hawe,<br>
"Whilste I may harbor in mine arke, and lodge wythin my lawe<br>
"My darlynge goulde, my leaves gueste, my solace and my glee,<br>
"He is the bone companion, its he that cheares up me."<br>
[tr. <a href="https://quod.lib.umich.edu/e/eebo/A03670.0001.001/1:9.1?rgn=div2;view=fulltext#:~:text=Such%20one%20we,cheares%20vp%20me.">Drant</a> (1567)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Thus that Athenian Monster Timon, which<br>
Hated Man-kind, a sordid Knave, but rich,<br>
Was wont to say, When ere I walk abroad<br>
The People hiss me, but I do applaud<br>
And hug my self at home, when I behold<br>
My chests brim-full with Silver and with Gold.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://quod.lib.umich.edu/cgi/t/text/text-idx?cc=eebo;c=eebo;idno=a44478.0001.001;node=A44478.0001.001:7;seq=1;rgn=div1;view=text#:~:text=Thus%20that%20Athenian,and%20with%20Gold.">A. B.</a>; ed. Brome (1666)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Since He, as the Athenian Chuff, will cry<br>
The People hiss me, True, but what care I?<br>
Let the poor fools hiss me where e're I come,<br>
I bless my self to see my bags at home.<br>
[tr. <a href="https://quod.lib.umich.edu/cgi/t/text/text-idx?cc=eebo;c=eebo;idno=a44471.0001.001;node=A44471.0001.001:7;seq=1;rgn=div1;view=text#:~:text=Since%20He%2C%20as,bags%20at%20home%3A">Creech</a> (1684)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>At Athens liv'd a wight, in days of yore, <br>
Though miserably rich, yet fond of more, <br>
But of intrepid spirit to despise <br>
The abusive crowd. "Let them hiss on," he cries,<br>
" While, in my own opinion fully blest, <br>
I count my money, and enjoy my chest."<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/satiresepistlesi00hora/page/6/mode/2up?q=%22liv%27d+a+wight%22">Francis</a> (1747)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>Self-cursed as that same miser must have been,<br>
Who lived at Athens, rich as he was mean, --<br>
Who, when the people hiss'd, would turn about<br>
And drily thus accost the rabble-rout:<br>
"Hiss on; I heed you not, ye saucy wags,<br>
While self-applauses greet me o'er my bags."<br>
[tr. <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Epodes_Satires_and_Epistles_of_Horac/TPgDAAAAQAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22who%20lived%20at%20athens%22">Howes</a> (1845)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>As a certain person is recorded [to have lived] at Athens, covetous and rich, who was wont to despise the talk of the people in this manner: “The crowd hiss me; but I applaud myself at home, as soon as I contemplate my money in my chest.”<br>
[tr. <a href="https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_works_of_Horace/First_Book_of_Satires#:~:text=As%20a%20certain%20person%20is%20recorded%20%5Bto%20have%20lived%5D%20at%20Athens%2C%20covetous%20and%20rich%2C%20who%20was%20wont%20to%20despise%20the%20talk%20of%20the%20people%20in%20this%20manner%3A%20%E2%80%9CThe%20crowd%20hiss%20me%3B%20but%20I%20applaud%20myself%20at%20home%2C%20as%20soon%20as%20I%20contemplate%20my%20money%20in%20my%20chest.%E2%80%9D">Smart/Buckley</a> (1853)] </blockquote><br>

<blockquote>As wretched as, at Athens, some rich miser was, who (as they say) was wont to thus despise what people said of him: "Aha ! the Public hiss, but in my heart I say I m right, directly that I gaze upon the coins in my strong-box."<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/satiresofhoracei00hora/page/8/mode/2up?q=%22at+Athens%2C+some+rich%22">Millington</a> (1870)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote>He is like a rich miser in Athens who, they say, used thus to scorn the people's talk: "The people hiss me, but at home I clap my hands for myself, once I gaze on the moneys in my chest."<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/satiresepistlesa00horauoft/page/8/mode/2up?q=%22hke+a+rich+miser%22">Fairclough</a> (Loeb) (1926)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab">Like the man they tell of<br>
In Athens, filthy but rich, who despised the voice<br>
Of the people and kept saying, "So! The citizens hiss at me!<br>
Ah! But I applaud myself alone at home<br>
When I gaze on the coins in my strongbox."<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/satiresanndepist0000hora/page/34/mode/2up?q=%22like+the+man+they%22">Palmer Bovie</a> (1959)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab">They're like an Athenian I heard about <br>
Rich and stingy, he thought nothing of the people's snide remarks,<br> 
and always said, "They hiss me, but I applaud myself<br>
at home, as soon as I lay eyes on the money in my chest."<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/horacessatiresep0000hora/page/2/mode/2up?q=%22an+Athenian+i%22">Fuchs</a> (1977)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab">As the Athenian miser<br>
Is said to have answered, when citizens<br>
Mocked him: "They hiss me, but at home I<br>
Applaud myself, counting the coins in my safe."<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/essentialhoraceo0000hora/page/132/mode/2up?q=%22athenian+miser%22">Raffel</a> (1983)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab">Like that one <br>
about whom the story was told in Athens: <br>
stingy and rich, he used to express <br>
his scorn of the people’s jibes with these words:<br>
"The people may hiss me, but at home<br>
I applaud myself as I contemplate<br>
my gold in the strongbox."<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/completeodessati0000hora/page/192/mode/2up?q=%22like+that+one%22">Alexander</a> (1999)] </blockquote><br>

<blockquote><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab">He’s like the miser in Athens <br>
who scorned, it’s said, what people thought of him. <br>
“They hiss me in the streets, but once I’m home <br>
I stare at my bright coffers and applaud <br>
myself.”<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/satiresofhorace0000hora_r9g5/page/2/mode/2up?q=%22like+the+miser%22">Matthews</a> (2002)] </blockquote><br>

<blockquote><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab">He's like the rich<br>
Athenian miser who treated the people's remarks with contempt.<br>
"The people hiss me," he would say, "but I applaud myself<br>
when I reach home and set eyes on all the cash in my box!"<br>
[tr. <a href="https://archive.org/details/satiresofhoracep00hora/page/4/mode/2up?q=%22he%27s+like+the+rich%22">Rudd</a> (2005 ed.)]</blockquote><br>

<blockquote><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab"><span class="tab">Like the rich Athenian miser<br>
Who used to hold the voice of the crowd in contempt:<br>
"They hiss at me, that crew, but once I’m home I applaud<br>
Myself, as I contemplate all the riches in my chests."<br>
[tr. <a href="https://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Latin/HoraceSatiresBkISatI.php#anchor_Toc98155351:~:text=like%20the%20rich,in%20my%20chests.%E2%80%99">Kline</a> (2015)]</blockquote><br>						</span>
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		<title>Asimov, Isaac -- &#8220;The Never-ending Fight,&#8221; The Humanist (Mar/Apr 1989)</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/asimov-isaac/48350/</link>
		<comments>https://wist.info/asimov-isaac/48350/#respond</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 12 Aug 2021 16:42:18 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Asimov, Isaac]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[comfort]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[It is no defense of superstition and pseudoscience to say that it brings solace and comfort to people, and that therefore we &#8220;elitists&#8221; should not claim to know better and to take it away from the less sophisticated. If solace and comfort are how we judge the worth of something, then consider that tobacco brings [&#8230;]]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>It is no defense of superstition and pseudoscience to say that it brings solace and comfort to people, and that therefore we &#8220;elitists&#8221; should not claim to know better and to take it away from the less sophisticated. If solace and comfort are how we judge the worth of something, then consider that tobacco brings solace and comfort to smokers; alcohol brings it to drinkers; drugs of all kinds bring it to addicts; the fall of cards and the run of horses bring it to gamblers; cruelty and violence bring it to sociopaths. Judge by solace and comfort only and there is no behavior we ought to interfere with.</p>
<br><b>Isaac Asimov</b> (1920–1992) Russian-American author, polymath, biochemist<br>&#8220;The Never-ending Fight,&#8221; <i>The Humanist</i> (Mar/Apr 1989) 
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		<title>Greenwood, Kerry -- Phryne Fisher, Book  1, Cocaine Blues (1989)</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/greenwood-kerry/37082/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 25 May 2017 22:55:57 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Greenwood, Kerry]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[&#8220;I hope that you did not give him anything, Mr Sanderson!&#8221; &#8220;Of course I did, ma&#8217;am.&#8221; &#8220;But he would only spend it on drink! You know what the working classes are!&#8221; &#8220;Indeed, ma&#8217;am, and why should he not spend it on drink? Would you deprive the poor, whose lives are bad and miserable and comfortless [&#8230;]]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>&#8220;I hope that you did not give him anything, Mr Sanderson!&#8221; </p>
<p>&#8220;Of course I did, ma&#8217;am.&#8221; </p>
<p>&#8220;But he would only spend it on drink! You know what the working classes are!&#8221; </p>
<p>&#8220;Indeed, ma&#8217;am, and why should he not spend it on drink? Would you deprive the poor, whose lives are bad and miserable and comfortless enough, of the solace of a little relief from grinding poverty? A sordid, sodden relief perhaps, but would you be so heartless as to deny the poor even that pleasure in which all of us indulge at your generous expense?&#8221;</p>
<br><b>Kerry Greenwood</b> (b. 1954) Australian author and lawyer<br>Phryne Fisher, Book  1, <i>Cocaine Blues</i> (1989) 
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		<title>Ingersoll, Robert Green -- Speech (1882-01-08), &#8220;At a Child&#8217;s Grave,&#8221; Congressional Cemetery, Washington, D. C.</title>
		<link>https://wist.info/ingersoll-robert-green/5651/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 21 Feb 2008 11:32:53 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dave</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Ingersoll, Robert Green]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[The dead do not suffer. And if they live again, their lives will surely be as good as ours. We have no fear. We are all children of the same mother, and the same fate awaits us all. We, too, have our religion, and it is this: Help for the living, Hope for the dead. [&#8230;]]]></description>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>The dead do not suffer. And if they live again, their lives will surely be as good as ours. We have no fear. We are all children of the same mother, and the same fate awaits us all. We, too, have our religion, and it is this: Help for the living, Hope for the dead.</p>
<br><b>Robert Green Ingersoll</b> (1833–1899) American lawyer, freethinker, orator<br>Speech (1882-01-08), &#8220;At a Child&#8217;s Grave,&#8221; Congressional Cemetery, Washington, D. C. 
						<br><br><span class="cite">
						

Eulogy at the burial of Harry Miller.
						</span>
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