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twigs to its sapless trunk; ‘tis now; at best; but the reverse of what it was; a tree turned upside down; the branches on the earth; and the root in the air; ‘tis now handled by every dirty wenchs; condemned to do her drudgery; and; by a capricious kind of fate; destined to make other things clean; and be nasty itself: at length; worn to the stumps in the service of the maids; it is either thrown out of door; or condemned to the last use of kindling a fire。 When I beheld this I sighed; and said within myself; surely man is a Broomstick!Nature sent him into the world strong and lusty; in a thriving condition; wearing his own hair on his head; the proper branches of this reasoning vegetable; until the axe of intemperance has lopped off his green boughs; and left him a withered trunk; he then flies to art; and puts on a periwig ; valuing himself upon an unnatural bundle of hairs (all covered with powder) that never grew on his head; but now; should this our broomstick pretend to enter the scene; proud of those birchen spoils it never bore; and all covered with dust; though the sweepings of the finest lady’s chamber3; we should be apt to ridicule and despise its vanity。 Partial judges that we are of our own excellencies4; and other men’s defaults!
But a broomstick; perhaps; you will say; is an emblem5 of a tree standing on its head; and pray what is man; but a topsy…turvy creature; his animal faculties perpetually mounted on his rational; his head where his heels should be; groveling on the earth! and yet; with all his faults; he sets up to be a universal reformer and corrector of abuses; a remover of grievances6; rakes into every slut’s corner of Nature; bringing hidden corruption to the light; and raises a mighty dust where there was none before; sharing deeply al
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