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Men are Stoics in their early years, Epicureans in their latter; social in youth, selfish in old age. In early life they believe all men honest, till they know them to be knaves. Thus, somehow or other, men pass, in the course of living, from one of these extremes to the other; and from having thought too well of human nature at first, to think at last perhaps too ill of it.

There's not a day, but to the man of thought
Betrays some secret, that throws new reproach
On life, and makes him sick of seeing more.
The scenes of business tell us what are men;
The scenes of pleasure what are all beside.

The world's all title-page, there's no contents;

The world's all farce; the man who shows his heart

Is hooted for his nudities, and scorn'd.

I venerate the man, whose heart is warm,

Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life
Coincident, exhibit lucid proof

That he is honest in the sacred cause.

To such I render more than mere respect,
Whose actions say that they respect themselves.

Sylvia.

YOUNG.

COWPER.

Man is the only living creature whose frame is at once so hardy and so flexible that he can spread over the whole earth, become the inhabitant of every region, and thrive and multiply under every

clime.

Short is the date, and narrow is the span,
Which bounds the little life of foolish man;
Gay scenes of bliss the ravish'd soul surprize,
Raise his vain hopes, and glitter in his eyes;
Of swelling titles he supinely dreams,
Bold are his projects, and refined his schemes;
But when his morning views of joy are past,
The melancholy evening comes at last;
The tyrant death a hasty summons sends,

And all his momentary glory ends.

Robertson.

DANIEL.

Man can measure the heavens, tell how many miles the planet Venus is distant from Jupiter, and how far the Earth is from the

Sun; he has found out, with certainty, the periods of their revolutions, and the hour of their eclipses; he can adjust the affairs of the planetary world to a moment; their vast variety of appearances, with all their prodigious circuits. But this great artist, Man, is puzzled at a worm, or a fly, a grain of sand, or a drop of water. There is not the least atom in the whole creation, but has questions about it unsearchable to human nature; no, nor the least part of empty space, but sets all the wisest philosophers at variance, when they attempt to tell what it is, or whether it be any thing or nothing.

Go now, vain Man, and find fault with any part of the creation of God, and play the foolish critic on his works of Providence; go and censure the justice of his conduct toward Adam or any of his, children, or blame the wisdom of his institutions in the dispensations of his grace. Monstrous arrogance, and proud impiety! Rather go first, and learn what an atom is, or the meanest part of the dust of this vast creation, which God has made. Dr. Watts.

Like to the falling of a star,

Or as the flights of eagles are;

Or like the fresh spring's gaudy hue,
Or silver drops of morning dew;
Or like a wind that chaf'd the flood,
Or bubbles that on water stood:
E'en such is man, whose borrow'd light
Is straight called in, and paid to-night;
The wind blows out; the bubble dies;
The spring entomb'd in autumn lies;
The dew dries up; the star is shot;
The flight is past, and inan forgot.

BISHOP KING.

Love of pleasure, love of consequence, and love of wealth, are the three natural ruling principles of Man.

Bate.

Man's body is of the earth, but his soul is from heaven; he depends on outward things for convenience and pleasure; but his happiness is from within. In all climates and conditions, he perceives a difference between truth and falsehood; may act a virtuous or vicious part; improve his nature to a certain degree, or debase

it; obtain knowledge of those things that lie within his reach, or by prejudice and neglect, harden himself in error and ignorance.

Of man's miraculous mistakes, this bears
The palm, "That all men are about to live!"
For ever on the brink of being born,
All pay themselves the compliment to think
They one day shall not drivel; and their pride
On this reversion takes up ready praise;
At least, their own, their future selves applauds.
How excellent that life they ne'er will lead !
Time lodg'd in their own hands is folly's vail,
That lodg'd in fate's, to wisdom they consign;
The thing they can't but purpose they postpone.
'Tis not in folly not to scorn a fool;

And scarce in human wisdom to do more.

All promise is poor dilatory man,

And that thro' every stage; when young indeed,

In full content, we sometimes nobly rest,
Unanxious for ourselves; and only wish,

As duteous sons, our fathers were more wise.
At thirty, man suspects himself a fool;
Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan;
At fifty chides his infamous delay;
Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve;

In all the magnanimity of thought

Resolves, and re-resolves; then dies the same.

Beattie.

YOUNG.

Man is formed of two powers, the one physical, the other intellectual, which afflict him perpetually with two contrary sentiments; the one of which is that of his misery, and the other that of his

excellence.

What is Man,

If the chief good and market of his time

Be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more!
Sure He that made us with such large discourse,

Looking before and after, gave us not

That capability and god-like reason,

St. Pierre.

To rest in us unused.

SHAKSPEARE.

Dear Madam, did you never gaze
Through optic glass on rotten cheese?
There, Madam, did you ne'er perceive
A crowd of dwarfish creatures live;
The little things, elate with pride,
Strut to and fro, from side to side,
In tiny pomp, and pertly vain,
Lords of their pleasing orb they reign;
And, fill'd with harden'd curds and cream,
Think the whole dairy made for them.

So men, conceited lords of all,

Walk proudly o'er this pendent ball,
Fond of their little spot below;

Nor greater beings care to know;

But think those worlds that deck the skies

Were only made to please their eyes.

DUCK.

So inconceivably holy is the Lord God of Hosts, that he sees defilement even in the brightness of the firmament. The living sapphire of the heavens, before his Majesty, loses its lustre. Yea, the stars (though the most pure and resplendent part of the heavens) are not pure in his sight. How much less Man, who, in his fallen and depraved state, is but as a worm, that crawls in the corrupted carcase ; and the son of man, who, by reason of his manifold actual impurities, is too justly compared to an insect that wallows amidst stench and putrefaction.

Are these the things, my passion cried,
That we call men? Are these allied

To the fair worlds of light?

They have ras'd out their Maker's name,
Grav'n on their minds in pointed flame,
In strokes divinely bright.

Wretches! they hate their native skies;
If an ethereal thought arise,

Or spark of virtue shine;

With cruel force they damp its plumes,
Choak the young fire with sensual fumes,
With business, lust, or wine.

Hervey.

DR. WATTS.

The finest gentleman, must, after all, be considered but as an ideot, who talking much of the knowledge of the world and mankind, has never so much as thought of the study or knowledge of himself, or of the nature and government of that great public and world whence he holds his being. Shaftesbury.

But man, with smiles, embraces, friendships, praise,
Inhumanly his fellow's life betrays;
With voluntary pains works his distress,
Not through necessity, but wantonness.

For hunger or for love, they fight and tear,
While wretched man is still in arms for fear;
For fear he arms, and is of arms afraid,

By fear to fear successively betray'd;

Base fear, the source whence his best passion came,
His boasted honour and his dear-bought fame;
The good he acts, the ill he does endure,
'Tis all for fear, to make himself secure :
Merely for safety after fame we thirst,
For all men would be cowards, if they durst,

And honesty's against all common sense;
Men must be knaves, 'tis in their own defence;
Mankind's dishonest; if you think it fair
Among known cheats to play upon the square,
You'll be undone.

Nor can weak truth your reputation save,
The knaves will all agree to call you knave;
Long shall he live, insulted or oppress'd,
Who dares be less a villian than the rest.

EARL OF ROCHESTER,

Man is an embodied paradox, a bundle of contradictions: and as some set-off against the marvellous things that he has done, we might fairly adduce the monstrous things that he has believed. The more gross the fraud, the more glibly will it go down, and the more greedily will it be swallowed, since folly will always find faith, wherever impostors will find impudence.

Lacon, by Rev. C. Colton.

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