wears; and, as one of the ancients very pleasantly said:  “Do you know why you repute him tall?  You reckon withal the height of his pattens.”—­[Seneca, Ep. 76.]—­The pedestal is no part of the statue.  Measure him without his stilts; let him lay aside his revenues and his titles; let him present himself in his shirt.  Then examine if his body be sound and sprightly, active and disposed to perform its functions.  What soul has he?  Is she beautiful, capable, and happily provided of all her faculties?  Is she rich of what is her own, or of what she has borrowed?  Has fortune no hand in the affair?  Can she, without winking, stand the lightning of swords? is she indifferent whether her life expire by the mouth or through the throat?  Is she settled, even and content?  This is what is to be examined, and by that you are to judge of the vast differences betwixt man and man.  Is he: 

          “Sapiens, sibique imperiosus,
          Quern neque pauperies, neque mors, neque vincula terrent;
          Responsare cupidinibus, contemnere honores
          Fortis; et in seipso totus teres atque rotundus,
          Externi ne quid valeat per laeve morari;
          In quem manca ruit semper fortuna?”

["The wise man, self-governed, whom neither poverty, nor death, nor chains affright:  who has the strength to resist his appetites and to contemn honours:  who is wholly self-contained:  whom no external objects affect:  whom fortune assails in vain.”  —­Horace, Sat., ii. 7,]

such a man is five hundred cubits above kingdoms and duchies; he is an absolute monarch in and to himself: 

          “Sapiens, . . .  Pol! ipse fingit fortunam sibi;”

          ["The wise man is the master of his own fortune,”
          —­Plautus, Trin., ii. 2, 84.]

what remains for him to covet or desire?

                         “Nonne videmus,
          Nil aliud sibi naturam latrare, nisi ut, quoi
          Corpore sejunctus dolor absit, mente fruatur,
          Jucundo sensu, cura semotu’ metuque?”

     ["Do we not see that human nature asks no more for itself than
     that, free from bodily pain, it may exercise its mind agreeably,
     exempt from care and fear.”—­Lucretius, ii. 16.]

Compare with such a one the common rabble of mankind, stupid and mean-spirited, servile, instable, and continually floating with the tempest of various passions, that tosses and tumbles them to and fro, and all depending upon others, and you will find a greater distance than betwixt heaven and earth; and yet the blindness of common usage is such that we make little or no account of it; whereas if we consider a peasant and a king, a nobleman and a vassal, a magistrate and a private man, a rich man and a poor, there appears a vast disparity, though they differ no more, as a man may say, than in their breeches.