"every motion of envy dies in me; when I read the epitaphs of the
beautiful, every inordinate desire goes out; when I meet with the grief
of parents upon a tombstone, my heart melts with compassion; when I see
the tomb of the parents themselves, I consider the vanity of grieving
for those whom we must quickly follow. When I see Kings lying by those
who deposed them, when I consider rival wits placed side by side, or the
holy men that divided the world with their contests and disputes, I
reflect with sorrow and astonishment on the little competitions,
factions, and debates of mankind. When I read the several dates of the
tombs, of some that died yesterday, and some six hundred years ago, I
consider that great judgment day when we shall all of us be
contemporaries, and make our appearance together."