This Being of mine, all that's on't, consists of Body, Breath, and that Part which governs: Now would you examine your whole Composition? Pray then let your Library alone, what need you puzzle your Thoughts, and over-grasp your self? To come to the Enquiry : As for your Carcass, value it no more than if you were just expiring, and taking Leave on't. For what is it in comparison? nothing but a little paltry Blood and Bones; a piece of Network, wrought up with a Company of Nerves, Veins, and Arteries twisted together. In the next place you are to examine what sort of Thing your Breath is: why only a little Air suck'd into your Lungs, and pump'd out again. The third part of your Composition is your Mind, which was made for Government and Authority: Now here make a Stand; consider you are an Old Man : Don't suffer this Noble Part of you under Servitude any longer: Let it not be overborn with Selfish Passions; Let it not quarrel Fate, be uneasy at the Present, or afraid of the Future.