Among these graves of genius I observed here and there a splendid
monument, which had been raised by the pride of family over the dust of
men who could lay no claim either to the gratitude or remembrances of
posterity. Their presence seemed like an intrusion into the sanctuary of
genius. What had wealth to do there? Why should it crowd the dust of the
great? That was no thoroughfare of business--no mart of gain! There were
no costly banquets there; no silken garments, nor gaudy liveries, nor
obsequious attendants!....
I continued my walk through the numerous winding paths, as chance or
curiosity directed me. Now I was lost in a little green hollow, overhung
with thick-leaved shrubbery, and then came out upon an elevation, from
which, through an opening in the trees, the eye caught glimpses of the
city, and the little esplanade, at the foot of the hill, where the poor
lie buried. There poverty hires its grave, and takes but a short lease of
the narrow house. At the end of a few months, or at most of a few years,
the tenant is dislodged to give place to another, and he in turn to a
third.
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