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said, "he knew the heart of a stranger,' and how much eased his own had been, while travelling, if admitted to the conversation of those he desired to see : therefore he thought his obligation to strangers was more than bare civility, it was a piece of religious charity in him. He had, for almost forty years laboured under such feebleness of body, and such lowness of strength and spirits, that it will appear a surprising thing to imagine, how it was possible for him to read, to meditate, to try experiments, and to write, as he did. He bore all his infirmities, and some sharp pains with the decency and submission, that became a Christian and philosopher. He had about him all that unaffected neglect of pomp in clothes, lodgings, furniture, and equipage, which agreed with his grave and serious course of life. He was advised to a very ungrateful simplicity of diet, which, by all appearance, was that which preserved him so long beyond all men's expectations: this he observed so strictly, that, in the course of above thirty years, he neither ate nor drank to gratify the varieties of appetite, but merely to support nature. He had a feebleness in his sight; his eyes were so well used by him, that, it will easily be imagined, he was very tender of them, and very apprehensive of such distempers as might affect them. He did also imagine, that if sickness should oblige him to lie long in bed, it might raise the pains of the stone in him to a degree that was above his weak strength to bear; so that he feared, that his last moments might be too hard for him ; and this was the root of all the caution, and apprehension, that he was observed to live in. But as to life itself, he had the just indifference to it, and the weariness of it, that became so true a Christian.
[Trinity College Fellowships, 1849.]
194. ALL those arts, rarities, and inventions, which vulgar minds gaze at, the ingenious, pursue, and all admire, are but the reliques of an intellect defaced with sin and time. We admire it now, only as antiquaries do a piece of old coin, for the stamp it once bore, and not for those vanishing lineaments and disappearing draughts that remain upon it at present. And certainly that must needs have been very glorious, the decays of which are so admirable. He that is comely, when old and decrepid, surely was very beautiful when he was young. An Aristotle was but the rubbish of an Adam, and Athens but the rudiments of Paradise.
[Chancellor's Medals, 1850.]
It grieves me to make an exception to this rule; but Tully was one so remarkably, that the example can neither be concealed nor passed over.
This great man, who had been the saviour of his country, who had feared, in the support of that cause, neither the insults of a desperate party, nor the daggers of assassins, when he came to suffer for the same cause, sunk under the weight. He dishonoured that banishment which indulgent providence meant to be the means of rendering his glory complete. Uncertain where he should go, or what he should do, fearful as a woman, and froward as a child, he lamented the loss of his rank, of his riches, and of his splendid popularity. His eloquence served only to paint his ignominy in stronger colours. He wept over the ruins of his fine house which Clodius had demolished: and his separation from Terentia, whom he repudiated not long afterwards, was perhaps an affliction to him at this time. Every thing becomes intolerable to the man who is once subdued by grief. He regrets
what he took no pleasure in enjoying, and overloaded already, he shrinks at the weight of a feather.
[Chancellor's Medals, 1850.]
196. The fate of Rome was now brought to a crisis; and the contending parties were making their last efforts either to oppress or preserve it: Cicero was the head of those, who stood up for its liberty; which entirely depended on the influence of his councils; he had many years therefore been the common mark of the rage and malice of all, who were aiming at illegal powers, or a tyranny in the state; and while these were generally supported by the military power of the Empire, he had no other arms or means of defeating them, but his authority with the Senate and People, grounded on the experience of his services, and the persuasion of his integrity: so that, to obviate the perpetual calumnies of the factious, he was obliged to inculcate the merit and good effects of his councils; in order to confirm people in their union and adherence to them, against the intrigues of those, who were employing all arts to subvert them. The frequent commemoration of his acts, therefore, was not made so much for glory as for defence; and this is what he himself declared in all his speeches : “that no man ever heard him speak of himself, but when he was forced to it: that when he was urged with fictitious crimes, it was his custom to answer them with his real services: and if ever he said anything glorious of himself, it was not through a fondness for praise, but to repel an accusation: that no man, who had been conversant with great affairs, and treated with particular envy, could refute the contumely of an enemy, without touching upon his own praises; and, after all his labour
for the common safety, if a just indignation had drawn from him at any time what might seem to be vainglorious, it might reasonably be forgiven to him: that, when others were silent about him, if he could not then forbear to speak of himself, that indeed would be shame. ful; but when he was injured, accused, exposed to popular odium, he must certainly be allowed to assert his liberty, if they would not suffer him to retain his dignity.” This then was the true state of the case, &c. &c.
[Classical Tripos, 1850.]
197. This loose state of the soul hurries the extravagant from one pursuit to another; and the reason that his expenses are greater than another's, is, that his wants are also more numerous.
But what makes so many go on in this way to their lives end, is, that they certainly do not know how contemptible they are in the eyes of the rest of mankind, or rather, that indeed they are not so contemptible as they deserve. Tully says, it is the greatest of wickedness to lessen your paternal estate. And if a man would thoroughly consider how much worse than banishment it must be to his child, to ride by the estate which should have been his, had it not been for his father's injustice to him, he would be smitten with the reflection more deeply than can be understood by any but one who is a father. Sure there can be nothing more afflicting, than to think it had been happier for his son to have been born of any other man living than himself.
(Bell Scholarships, 1850.]
198. We are always resolving to live, and yet never set about life in good earnest.' Archimedes was not singular in his fate; but a great part of mankind die unexpectedly, while they are poring upon the figures they have described in the sand. O wretched mortals ! who, having condemned themselves, as it were, to the mines, seem to make it their chief study to prevent their ever regaining their liberty. Hence, new employments are assumed in the place of old ones; and, as the Roman philosopher truly expresses it, one hope succeeds another, one instance of ambition makes
for another; and we never desire an end of our misery, but only that it may change its outward form. When we cease to be candidates, and to fatigue ourselves in soliciting interest, we begin to give our votes and interest to those who solicit us in their turn. When we are wearied of the trouble of prosecuting crimes at the bar, we commence judges ourselves; and he who is grown old in the management of other men's affairs for money, is at last employed in improving his own wealth. At the age of fifty, says one, I will retire, and take my ease; or the sixtieth year of my life shall entirely disengage me from public offices and business. Fool! art thou not ashamed to reserve to thyself the last remains and dregs of life? Who will stand surety that thou shalt live so long? And what immense folly is it, so far to forget mortality, as to think of beginning to live at that period of years, to which a few only attain !
[Clare Hall Scholarships, 1850.]
199. OTHERS there are that amuse themselves with the dissemination of falsehood, at greater hazard of detection and disgrace; men marked out by some lucky planet for universal confidence and friendship, who have been consulted in every difficulty, intrusted with every secret, and summoned to every transaction: it is the