part speedily
followed to the letter. We do not leave so great a void in society as
we are inclined to imagine, partly to magnify our own importance, and
partly to console ourselves by sympathy. Even in the same family the gap
is not so great; the wound closes up sooner than we should expect. Nay,
_our room_ is not unfrequently thought better than _our company._ People
walk along the streets the day after our deaths just as they did before,
and the crowd is not diminished. While we were living, the world seemed
in a manner to exist only for us, for our delight and amusement, because
it contributed to them. But our hearts cease to beat, and it goes on
as usual, and thinks no more about us than it did in our lifetime. The
million are devoid of sentiment, and care as little for you or me as if
we belonged to the moon. We live the week over in the Sunday's paper,
or are decently interred in some obituary at the month's end! It is
not surprising that we are forgotten so soon after we quit this mortal
stage; we are scarcely noticed while we are on it. It is not merely that
our names are not known in China--they have hardly been heard of in
the next street. We are hand and glove with the universe, and think the
obligation is mutual. This is an evident fallacy. If this, however, does
not trouble us now, it will not hereafter. A handful of dust can have
no quarrel to pick with its neighbours, or complaint to make against
Providence, and might well exclaim, if it had but an understanding and
a tongue, 'Go thy ways, old world, swing round in blue ether, voluble to
every age, you and I shall no more jostle!'

It is amazing how soon the rich and titled, and even some of those who
have wielded great political power, are forgotten.

A little rule, a little sway,
Is all the great and mighty have
Betwixt the cradle and the grave--

and, after its short date, they hardly leave a name behind them. 'A
great man's memory may, at the common rate, survive him half a year.'
His heirs and successors take his titles, his power, and his wealth--all
that made him considerable or courted by others; and he has left nothing
else behind him either to delight or benefit the world. Posterity are
not by any means so disinterested as they are supposed to be. They give
their gratitude and admiration only in return for benefits conferred.
They cherish the memory of those to whom they are indebted for
instruction and delight; and they cherish it just i