It must be so--Plato, thou reasonest well!--
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing after immortality?
Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror,
Of falling into naught? Why shrinks the soul
Back on herself, and startles at destruction?
'Tis the Divinity that stirs within us;
'Tis Heaven itself that points out an hereafter,
And intimates eternity to man.
The stars shall fade away, the sun himself
Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years,
But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth,
Unhurt amidst the war of elements,
The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds.
--_Addison._
968
_Impertinence._--That man is guilty of impertinence who considers not
the circumstances of time, or engrosses the conversation, or makes
himself the subject of his discourse, or pays no regard to the company
he is in.
--_Fully._
969
Airs of importance are often the credentials of insignificance.
--_Lavater._
970