art be grievously out of place; for, as it is probable that few only
have explored these intricacies of human nature, so can the tracing of
them be interesting only to a few. But an epitaph is not a proud writing
shut up for the studious: it is exposed to all--to the wise and the most
ignorant; it is condescending, perspicuous, and lovingly solicits
regard; its story and admonitions are brief, that the thoughtless, the
busy, and indolent, may not be deterred, nor the impatient tired: the
stooping old man cons the engraven record like a second horn-book;--the
child is proud that he can read it;--and the stranger is introduced
through its mediation to the company of a friend: it is concerning all,
and for all:--in the church-yard it is open to the day; the sun looks
down upon the stone, and the rains of heaven beat against it.

Yet, though the writer who would excite sympathy is bound in this case,
more than in any other, to give proof that he himself has been moved, it
is to be remembered, that to raise a monument is a sober and a
reflective act; that the inscription which it bears is intended to be
permanent, and for universal perusal; and that, for this reason, the
thoughts and feelings expressed should be permanent also--liberated from
that weakness and anguish of sorrow which is in nature transitory, and
which with instinctive decency retires from notice. The passions should
be subdued, the emotions controlled; strong, indeed, but nothing
ungovernable or wholly involuntary. Seemliness requires this, and truth
requires it also: for how can the narrator otherwise be trusted?
Moreover, a grave is a tranquillising object: resignation in course of
time springs up from it as naturally as the wild flowers, besprinkling
the turf with which it may be covered, or gathering round the monument
by which it is defended. The very form and substance of the monument
which has received the inscription, and the appearance of the letters,
testifying with what a slow and laborious hand they must have been
engraven, might seem to reproach the author who had given way upon this
occasion to transports of mind, or to quick turns of conflicting
passion; though the same might constitute the life and beauty of a
funeral oration or elegiac poem.

These sensations and judgments, acted upon perhaps unconsciously, have
been one of the main causes why epitaphs so often personate the
deceased, and represent him as speaking from his own tomb-stone. Th