and temporal pasture; 'tis a privileged study. Between ourselves, I have
ever observed supercelestial opinions and subterranean manners to be of
singular accord.

AEsop, that great man, saw his master piss as he walked: "What then,"
said he, "must we drop as we run?" Let us manage our time; there yet
remains a great deal idle and ill employed. The mind has not willingly
other hours enough wherein to do its business, without disassociating
itself from the body, in that little space it must have for its
necessity. They would put themselves out of themselves, and escape from
being men. It is folly; instead of transforming themselves into angels,
they transform themselves into beasts; instead of elevating, they lay
themselves lower. These transcendental humours affright me, like high
and inaccessible places; and nothing is hard for me to digest in the life
of Socrates but his ecstasies and communication with demons; nothing so
human in Plato as that for which they say he was called divine; and of
our sciences, those seem to be the most terrestrial and low that are
highest mounted; and I find nothing so humble and mortal in the life of
Alexander as his fancies about his immortalisation. Philotas pleasantly
quipped him in his answer; he congratulated him by letter concerning the
oracle of Jupiter Ammon, which had placed him amongst the gods: "Upon thy
account I am glad of it, but the men are to be pitied who are to live
with a man, and to obey him, who exceeds and is not contented with the
measure of a man:"

"Diis to minorem quod geris, imperas."

["Because thou carriest thyself lower than the gods, thou rulest."
--Horace, Od., iii. 6, 5.]

The pretty inscription wherewith the Athenians honoured the entry of
Pompey into their city is conformable to my sense: "By so much thou art
a god, as thou confessest thee a man." 'Tis an absolute and, as it were,
a divine perfection, for a man to know how loyally to enjoy his being.
We seek other conditions, by reason we do not understand the use of our
own; and go out of ourselves, because we know not how there to reside.
'Tis to much purpose to go upon stilts, for, when upon stilts, we must
yet walk with our legs; and when seated upon the most elevated throne in
the world, we are but seated upon our breech. The fairest lives, in my
opinion, are those which regularly accommodate themselves to the common
and human model without miracle, without extrav