You'l quickly be reduced to Ashes and Skeleton; And it may be you may have a Name left you, and it may be not: And what's a Name? Nothing but Sound, and Syllable. And then for those Things which are so much valued in the World, they are miserably empty, and insignificant. The Prize is so mean, that it makes the scuffle about them Ridiculous. It puts one in mind of a parcel of Puppies snarling for a Bone; And the contests of little Children sometimes transported, and sometimes all in Tears about a Play-Thing. And as for Modesty and Good Faith, Truth and Justice; they have left this wicked World, and retired to Heaven: And now what is it that can keep you here. For if the Objects of Sence are floating, and changable, and the Organs misty, and apt to be impos'd on: If the Soul is but a Vapour drawn off the Blood, and the Applause of little Mortals insignificant; If the case stands thus, what is it you stay for? Why I am resolved to have Patience, till I am either Extinguish'd, or Remov'd. ¹¹And till that time comes, what is to be done? The answer is easie: To worship the Gods, and speak honourably of them; to be beneficial to Mankind; to bear with their Faults, and let their property alone. And lastly, to remember, that whatever lies without the compass of your Person, is nothing of yours, nor in your power.