When the race is ended, and the play is either won or lost, and ye are in the utmost circle and border of time, and shall put your foot within the march of eternity, all the good things of your short nightdream shall seem to you like ashes of a blaze of thorns or straw.
Samuel Rutherford (1761). “Letters, Now Divided Into Three Parts: The First Containing Those which Were Written from Aberdeen”, p.308
