it is the secret of the world that all things subsist and do not die, but only retire a little
from sight and afterwards return again. Nothing is dead: men feign themselves dead and endure mock funerals and mournful obituaries, and there they stand looking out of the window, sound and well, in some new strange disguised. Jesus is not dead: He is very well alive: nor John, nor Paul, nor Mohamet, nor Aristotle: at time we believe we seen them all, and could easily tell the names under which they go.
