From the first hint that wakens the
fancy, till the hour of actual execution, all is improvement and
progress, triumph and felicity. Every hour brings additions to the
original scheme, suggests some new expedient to secure success, or
discovers consequential advantages not hitherto foreseen. While
preparations are made, and materials accumulated, day glides after day
through elysian prospects, and the heart dances to the song of hope.
Such is the pleasure of projecting, that many content themselves with a
succession of visionary schemes, and wear out their allotted time in the
calm amusement of contriving what they never attempt or hope to execute.
Others, not able to feast their imagination with pure ideas, advance
somewhat nearer to the grossness of action, with great diligence collect
whatever is requisite to their design, and, after a thousand researches
and consultations, are snatched away by death, as they stand _in
procinctu_, waiting for a proper opportunity to begin.
If there were no other end of life, than to find some adequate solace
for every day, I know not whether any condition could be preferred to
that of the man who involves himself in his own thoughts, and never
suffers experience to show him the vanity of speculation; for no sooner
are notions reduced to practice, than tranquillity and confidence
forsake the breast; every day brings its task, and often without
bringing abilities to perform it: difficulties embarrass, uncertainty
perplexes, opposition retards, censure exasperates, or neglect
depresses.
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