Other inconveniences await this silly speculation. Thus, the Colossal Man, (who was _under Law_ from B.C. 1491 to the Christian æra,) proves to have been a marvellously precocious Infant. He wrote the Song of Moses _in the year of his birth_. Nay, he built pyramids,--had a Literature, Arts, and Sciences,--_ages before he was born!..._ While yet an infant, he sang with Homer, and carved with Phidias, and philosophized with Aristotle,--as none have ever sung, or carved, or philosophized since. Times and fashions have altered, truly; but these three men are still _our_ Masters in Philosophy, in Sculpture, and in Song. Awkward fact, that the colossal Infant should have lisped in a tongue which for copiousness of diction, and subtlety of expression, absolutely remains to this hour without a rival in the world! Again. At this writer's dogmatic bidding, we force ourselves to think of Mankind as a Colossal Man, who has already gone through three ages,--Infancy, Boyhood, and Manhood. _Old Age is therefore to come next_. When, (if it is a fair question,) may it be expected that the sad period of senile decrepitude will set in? What proof, in the mean time, is there, (we venture to ask,) that this period of decay has not begun already? Or does Dr. Temple perhaps imagine that the world is moving in cycles, (to adopt the grotesque speculation of his own first pages); and that after having run through the curriculum of Infancy, Boyhood, and Manhood, the Colossal Man, (escaping, for some unexplained reason, the penalty of Old Age,) is to grow young again,--shake his rattle and cut his teeth afresh? There is a childish vivaciousness, a juvenile recklessness, a skittish impatience of restraint, in this amiable author's speculations, which powerfully corroborate such a view of the case.