The Complete Monumental Register:: Containing All the Epitaphs, Inscriptions, &c. &c. &c. in the Different Churches and Burial-grounds, in and about Calcutta; Including Those of the Burial-grounds of Howrah, Dum-dum, Barrasut, Barrackpore, Pultah, Serampore, Chandernagore, Chinsurah, and the Convent of Bandel. Together with Several Inscriptions from the Presidencies of Madras, Bombay, Isle of France, &c. to which is Added Short Sketches, Anecdotes &c. &c. Illustrative of the Public Services, General Characters, and Virtues of Th Edead [sic]. (Google eBook)

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P. Ferris., 1815 - Epitaphs - 230 pages
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Page 98 - I HEARD a voice from heaven, saying unto me, Write, From henceforth blessed are the dead which die in the Lord : even so saith the Spirit ; for they rest from their labours.
Page 71 - Is there not an appointed time to man upon earth? Are not his days also like the days of an hireling?
Page 208 - I repeat, that he will die if he does not leave off his studies and remain quiet.'
Page 89 - MAN, that is born of a woman, hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery. He cometh up, and is cut down like a flower; he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay.
Page 24 - And what is friendship but a name, A charm that lulls to sleep ; A shade that follows wealth or fame, But leaves the wretch to weep...
Page 208 - His memory was most tenacious, and he sometimes loaded it with lumber. When he was at Mysore, an argument occurred upon a point of English history ; it was agreed to refer it to Leyden, and, to the astonishment of all parties, he repeated verbatim the whole of an act of parliament in the reign of James relative to Ireland, which decided the point in dispute.
Page 1 - Death, like an overflowing stream, Sweeps us away ; our life's a dream ; An empty tale ; a morning flower, Cut down and wither'd in an hour.
Page 200 - It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men ; and the living will lay it to his heart.
Page 135 - On me, more justly number'd with the dead. This is the desert, this the solitude: How populous, how vital is the grave! This is Creation's melancholy vault, The vale funereal, the sad cypress gloom; The land of apparitions, empty shades! All, all on earth is shadow, all beyond Is substance; the reverse is Folly's creed.
Page 209 - Wha dar meddle wi' me, who dar meddle wi' me,' Several of those who witnessed this scene looked at him as one that was raving in the delirium of a fever. " These anecdotes will display more fully than any description I can give, the lesser shades of the character of this extraordinary man. An external manner, certainly not agreeable, and a disposition to egotism, were his only defects. How trivial do (these appear, at a moment when we are lamenting the loss of such a rare combination of virtues,...

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