the worth of that man whom they dishonoured and neglected. One of his letters from the country to Vettori, is so interesting, and so necessary to the appreciation of his character, that we give it at length:-- "_Tarde non furon mai grazie divine._ Divine favours never come too late. I say this, because it seemed to me that I had, not lost, but mislaid your kindness, you having remained so long without writing to me, that I wondered what might be the cause. Your last of the 23d dissipated my doubts, and I am delighted to find how quietly and regularly you fulfil your office. I advise you to go on thus; for whosoever neglects his own affairs for those of others, injures himself and gets no thanks. As fortune chooses to dispose of our lives, let her alone. Do not exert yourself, but wait till she urges other men to do something, when it will be time for you to come forward, and for me to say. Here I am. I cannot thank you in any way except by giving you an account of my life here; and you may see whether it is worth exchanging for yours. "I remain at my country house; and since the last events I have not spent in all twenty days in Florence. I have hitherto been killing thrushes. Rising before daylight I prepared my snares, and set off with a bundle of cages at my back, so that I resembled Geta, when he returns from the harbour with Amphytrion's books. I took two or at most seven thrushes each day.[127] Thus passed September, since when, to my great annoyance, this diversion has failed me; and my life has been such as I will now detail. I rise with the sun, and go to a wood of mine, which I am cutting; where I remain a couple of hours, reviewing the work of the past day, and talking with the woodcutters, who are always in trouble either for themselves or their neighbours. I have a thousand entertaining things to tell you, which have happened with regard to this wood[128], between me and Fresino da Panzaro and others, who wanted to buy some of the wood. Frosino sent for several loads without saying a word to me; and on payment wanted to keep back ten livres, which he says he ought to have had from me four years ago, having won it at play, at the house of Antonio Guicciardini. I began to play the devil, and to accuse the carrier of cheating, on which G. Machiavelli interfered, and brought us to agree. When the north wind blew, Battista Guicciardini, Filippo Ginori, Tommaso del Bene, and several other citizens took a load. I promised some to all, and sent one to Tommaso, half of which went to Florence, because he and his wife and children were there to receive it. So, seeing I gained nothing by it, I told the others that I had no more wood, which made them all very angry, especially Battista, who numbers this among other state troubles. When I leave the wood I go to a fountain, where I watch my bird nets with a book in hand; either Dante or Petrarch, or one of the minor Latin poets--Tibullus, Ovid, or one similar.