Thoughts on Man | Page 4

found principally in Essays VII, IX, XIV, and XVIII.
CONTENTS
Essay. I. Of Body and Mind. The Prologue II. Of the Distribution of
Talents III. Of Intellectual Abortion IV. Of the Durability of Human
Achievements and Productions V. Of the Rebelliousness of Man VI. Of
Human Innocence VII. Of the Duration of Human Life VIII. Of Human
Vegetation IX. Of Leisure X. Of Imitation and Invention XI. Of
Self-Love and Benevolence XII. Of the Liberty of Human Actions XIII.
Of Belief XIV. Of Youth and Age XV. Of Love and Friendship XVI.
Of Frankness and Reserve XVII. Of Ballot XVIII. Of Diffidence XIX.
Of Self Complacence XX. Of Phrenology XXI. Of Astronomy XXII.
Of the Material Universe XXIII. Of Human Virtue. The Epilogue
THOUGHTS, &c.
ESSAY I. OF BODY AND MIND.
THE PROLOGUE.
There is no subject that more frequently occupies the attention of the
contemplative than man: yet there are many circumstances concerning
him that we shall hardly admit to have been sufficiently considered.
Familiarity breeds contempt. That which we see every day and every
hour, it is difficult for us to regard with admiration. To almost every
one of our stronger emotions novelty is a necessary ingredient. The
simple appetites of our nature may perhaps form an exception. The
appetite for food is perpetually renewed in a healthy subject with
scarcely any diminution and love, even the most refined, being
combined with one of our original impulses, will sometimes for that
reason withstand a thousand trials, and perpetuate itself for years. In all
other cases it is required, that a fresh impulse should be given, that
attention should anew be excited, or we cannot admire. Things often
seen pass feebly before our senses, and scarcely awake the languid

soul.
"Man is the most excellent and noble creature of the world, the
principal and mighty work of God, the wonder of nature, the marvel of
marvels[1]."
[1] Anatomy of Melancholy, p. 1.
Let us have regard to his corporeal structure. There is a simplicity in it,
that at first perhaps we slightly consider. But how exactly is it
fashioned for strength and agility! It is in no way incumbered. It is like
the marble when it comes out of the hand of the consummate sculptor;
every thing unnecessary is carefully chiseled away; and the joints, the
muscles, the articulations, and the veins come out, clean and finished. It
has long ago been observed, that beauty, as well as virtue, is the middle
between all extremes: that nose which is neither specially long, nor
short, nor thick, nor thin, is the perfect nose; and so of the rest. In like
manner, when I speak of man generally, I do not regard any aberrations
of form, obesity, a thick calf, a thin calf; I take the middle between all
extremes; and this is emphatically man.
Man cannot keep pace with a starting horse: but he can persevere, and
beats him in the end.
What an infinite variety of works is man by his corporeal form enabled
to accomplish! In this respect he casts the whole creation behind him.
What a machine is the human hand! When we analyse its parts and its
uses, it appears to be the most consummate of our members. And yet
there are other parts, that may maintain no mean rivalship against it.
What a sublimity is to be attributed to his upright form! He is not
fashioned, veluti pecora, quae natura prona atque ventri obedientia
finxit. He is made coeli convexa tueri. The looks that are given him in
his original structure, are "looks commercing with the skies."
How surpassingly beautiful are the features of his countenance; the
eyes, the nose, the mouth! How noble do they appear in a state of
repose! With what never-ending variety and emphasis do they express
the emotions of his mind! In the visage of man, uncorrupted and
undebased, we read the frankness and ingenuousness of his soul, the
clearness of his reflections, the penetration of his spirit. What a volume
of understanding is unrolled in his broad, expanded, lofty brow! In his
countenance we see expressed at one time sedate confidence and awful
intrepidity, and at another godlike condescension and the most melting

tenderness. Who can behold the human eye, suddenly suffused with
moisture, or gushing with tears unbid, and the quivering lip, without
unspeakable emotion? Shakespear talks of an eye, "whose bend could
awe the world."
What a miraculous thing is the human complexion! We are sent into the
world naked, that all the variations of the blood might be made visible.
However trite, I cannot avoid quoting here the lines of the most
deep-thinking and philosophical of our poets:
We understood Her by her sight: her pure and eloquent blood Spoke in
her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought, That