who wou'd Dote npon Things hurryed down the Stream thus fast, and which 'tis impossible to take hold on? Such a Passion is much like falling in Love with a Sparrow flying over your head, you have as it were but one glimps of her, and she is out of sight. To go on; Life is but a sort of Exhalation of the Blood, and a little Air sucked into the Lungs. Now to return your Breath for the support of Life , and expire your last, when you lose it, is much what the same Action.
XVI. Neither the perspiration of Plants, nor the Breath of Animals, nor the Impressions of Sensation, nor the Poppet-motions [1] of Passions, are priviledges of any great value. To which we may add the Instinct of crowding into Herds, together With the Functions of Nutrition ; This latter being not unlike a separating kind of Evacuation. What then is it that you count worth your Esteem? Huzza's and Acclamations? Not at all. Why then you must not value Harangues and Panegyrick, for this is but a Mannerly sort of bawling about a Man. Well : I find Fame and Glory won't tempt you, what then is there behind worth the having? To govern your Motions, and make use of your Being according to the Intentions of Nature; This is the design of Arts and Improve-
- ↑ Because they do as it were dance Men upon Wires.
