The Contemplation
Of Noble Ruins Produces A Melancholy That Exalts The Mind.
We take
a retrospect of the exertions of man, the fate of empires and their
rulers, and marking the grand destruction of ages, it seems the
necessary change of the leading to improvement.
Our very soul
expands, and we forget our littleness - how painfully brought to our
recollection by such vain attempts to snatch from decay what is
destined so soon to perish. Life, what art thou? Where goes this
breath? - this _I_, so much alive? In what element will it mix,
giving or receiving fresh energy? What will break the enchantment
of animation? For worlds I would not see a form I loved - embalmed
in my heart - thus sacrilegiously handled? Pugh! my stomach turns.
Is this all the distinction of the rich in the grave? They had
better quietly allow the scythe of equality to mow them down with
the common mass, than struggle to become a monument of the
instability of human greatness.
The teeth, nails, and skin were whole, without appearing black like
the Egyptian mummies; and some silk, in which they had been wrapped,
still preserved its colour - pink - with tolerable freshness.
I could not learn how long the bodies had been in this state, in
which they bid fair to remain till the Day of Judgment, if there is
to be such a day; and before that time, it will require some trouble
to make them fit to appear in company with angels without disgracing
humanity.
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