MONUMENTS
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In this solemn spot, the first thing that caught my attention was the tomb of The Author of the Leviathan. "Alas!" said I, "is that the memento of that celebrated infidel of the last age?" "The very same," answered the Interpreter; "that is the man whose writings poisoned the mind of the Earl of Rochester, as that nobleman himself declared, after his conversion. The author of the Leviathan lived to be an old sinner; for he was upwards of ninety when he died. His life was rendered remarkable for the many blasphemous expressions he uttered against God and his holy word. He was always bold in impiety when in company; but very timid when alone. If he awoke in the night and found his candle extinguished, he was full of terrors. His last words, as related of him, were, "I shall be glad to find a hole to creep out of the world!"
"And pray whose monument is that," said I to the Interpreter, "which has a bust on the tablet of it, looking so pensive?" "Read the inscription it bears," replied the Interpreter; "and from his last confessions, which are there recorded, you will recollect whose it is." I looked with attention, and read as follows—
"I have run the silly round of business and of pleasure, and am done with them all. I have enjoyed all the felicities of the world, and consequently know their futility, and do not regret their loss. I appraise them at their real value, which is, in truth, very low. Shall I tell you that I bear this melancholy situation with that meritorious constancy and resignation which most people boast of? No! for I really cannot help it. I bear it, because I must bear it, whether I will or no. I think of nothing now but killing time the best way I can. It is my resolution to sleep in the carriage during the remainder of my journey."
"Well, my friend," cried the Interpreter, when I had finished reading the inscription, "what are your ideas of infidels now? Here they speak plainly what are their real sentiments."
"I think," answered I, "my situation is like that of David, when he went into the sanctuary of God—I now understand the end of these men. How truly awful!"
Turning myself round, by way of passing from the contemplation of a sight so very distressing, I beheld in one niche two sculptured figures together, on one column. "Who are these?" I cried. "This, on your right hand," answered the Interpreter, "is the great Apostle of Infidelity, as he wanted to be called, of a neighbouring nation; and him on your left is a celebrated historian of our own.
"The former, in great agonies of mind, exclaimed to his physician, "I am abandoned both by God and man! Doctor!" cried he, "I'll give you half I am worth, if you can give me life six months!"—and upon the doctor's telling him he feared he could not live six weeks, "Then," he replied, "I shall go to hell!"—and expired soon after.
"The latter spent his last days in playing at cards, in cracking jokes, and in reading romances. He is said to have acknowledged, that, with his bitter invectives against the Bible, he had never read the New Testament with attention."
My mind was so sickened from the meditation on those few characters, that I begged to hasten from the place. I saw a group of other tombs, some with inscriptions, and others without, "whose memorials were perished with them;" but I could bear no more. We ascended the same steps by which we had come down, and on leaving the dreadful place, my heart exclaimed, "Oh, my soul, come not unto their secret! unto their assembly!"
What impressions the rest of the company felt I know not; but, for my part, never shall I forget the awfulness of the scene. "Is this the sure termination," I said to myself, "of Infidelity? Oh, for that warning-voice, and that more powerful grace to make the voice effectual, which the man of God uttered in the holy mountain, to be sounded in every infidel's ears—'Be not mockers, lest your bands be made strong!'"
My mind acquired great strength and greater knowledge in divine things during my abode in the house of the Interpreter. I was with him somewhat more than three months, and the time seemed to me but a few days—for the reward in expectation which sweetened the whole. At length it became necessary to depart; and the morning arrived in which I was to bid him farewell.
There were several other of Zion's Pilgrims in the house besides myself, who were also on the eve of departure; and, therefore, the good man of the house called us together into the hall, in order to receive his parting blessing.
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