Thoughts on Man | Page 7

of the inner man, and the
dissecting our thoughts and desires, we employ our intellectual
arithmetic, we add, and subtract, and multiply, and divide, without

asking the aid, without adverting to the existence, of our joints and
members. Even as to the more corporeal part of our avocations, we
behold the external world, and proceed straight to the object of our
desires, without almost ever thinking of this medium, our own material
frame, unaided by which none of these things could be accomplished.
In this sense we may properly be said to be spiritual existences,
however imperfect may be the idea we are enabled to affix to the term
spirit.
Hence arises the notion, which has been entertained ever since the birth
of reflection and logical discourse in the world, and which in some
faint and confused degree exists probably even among savages, that the
body is the prison of the mind. It is in this sense that Waller, after
completing fourscore years of age, expresses himself in these affecting
and interesting couplets.
When we for age could neither read nor write, The subject made us
able to indite. The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed, Lets in
new light by chinks that time hath made: Stronger by weakness, wiser,
men become, As they draw near to their eternal home.
Thus it is common with persons of elevated soul to talk of neglecting,
overlooking, and taking small account of the body. It is in this spirit
that the story is recorded of Anaxarchus, who, we are told, was ordered
by Nicocreon, tyrant of Salamis, to be pounded in a mortar, and who, in
contempt of his mortal sufferings, exclaimed, "Beat on, tyrant! thou
dost but strike upon the case of Anaxarchus; thou canst not touch the
man himself." And it is in something of the same light that we must
regard what is related of the North American savages. Beings, who
scoff at their tortures, must have an idea of something that lies beyond
the reach of their assailants.
It is just however to observe, that some of the particulars here related,
belong not less to the brute creation than to man. If men are imperfectly
acquainted with their external figure and appearance, this may well be
conceived to be still more predicable of the inferior animals. It is true
that all of them seem to be aware of the part in their structure, where lie
their main strength and means of hostility. Thus the bull attacks with
his horns, and the horse with his heels, the beast of prey with his claws,
the bird with his beak, and insects and other venomous creatures with
their sting. We know not by what impulse they are prompted to the use

of the various means which are so intimately connected with their
preservation and welfare; and we call it instinct. We may be certain it
does not arise from a careful survey of their parts and members, and a
methodised selection of the means which shall be found most effectual
for the accomplishment of their ends. There is no premeditation; and,
without anatomical knowledge, or any distinct acquaintance with their
image and likeness, they proceed straight to their purpose.
Hence, even as men, they are more familiar with the figures and
appearance of their fellows, their allies, or their enemies, than with
their own.
Man is a creature of mingled substance. I am many times a day
compelled to acknowledge what a low, mean and contemptible being I
am. Philip of Macedon had no need to give it in charge to a page, to
repair to him every morning, and repeat, "Remember, sir, you are a
man." A variety of circumstances occur to us, while we eat, and drink,
and submit to the humiliating necessities of nature, that may well
inculcate into us this salutary lesson. The wonder rather is, that man,
who has so many things to put him in mind to be humble and despise
himself, should ever have been susceptible of pride and disdain.
Nebuchadnezzar must indeed have been the most besotted of mortals, if
it were necessary that he should be driven from among men, and made
to eat grass like an ox, to convince him that he was not the equal of the
power that made him.
But fortunately, as I have said, man is a "stranger at home." Were it not
for this, how incomprehensible would be
The ceremony that to great ones 'longs, The monarch's crown, and the
deputed sword, The marshal's truncheon, and the judge's robe!
How ludicrous would be the long procession and the caparisoned horse,
the gilded chariot and the flowing train, the colours flying, the drums
beating, and the sound of trumpets rending the air, which after all only
introduce to us an