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第25章

Mr. Murphy, who admired her talents and delighted in her company, did me the favour to paraphrase this elegant inion in verses which I fancy have never yet been published. His fame has long been out of my power to increase as a poet: as a man of sensibility perhaps these lines may set him higher than he now stands. I remember with gratitude the friendly tears which prevented him from speaking as he put them into my hand.

Near this place Are deposited the remains of HESTER MARIA, The daughter of Sir Thomas Cotton of Combermere, in the county of Cheshire, Bart., the wife of John Salusbury, of the county of Flint, Esquire. She was born in the year 1707, married in 1739, and died in 1773.

A pleasing form, where every grace combined, With genius blest, a pure enlightened mind;Benevolence on all that smiles bestowed, A heart that for her friends with love o'erflowed:

In language skilled, by science formed to please, Her mirth was wit, her gravity was ease.

Graceful in all, the happy mien she knew, Which even to virtue gives the limits due;Whate'er employed her, that she seemed to choose, Her house, her friends, her business, or the muse.

Admired and loved, the theme of general praise, All to such virtue wished a length of days.

But sad reverse! with slow-consuming pains, Th' envenomed cancer revelled in her veins;Preyed on her spirits--stole each power away;Gradual she sank, yet smiling in decay;

She smiled in hope, by sore affliction tried, And in that hope the pious Christian died.

The following epitaph on Mr. Thrale, who has now a monument close by hers in Streatham Church, I have seen printed and commended in Maty's Review for April, 1784; and a friend has favoured me with the translation:--Hic conditur quod reliquum est HENRICI THRALE, Qui res seu civiles, seu domesticas, ita egit, Ut vitam illi longiorem multi optarent;Ita sacras, Ut quam brevem esset habiturus praescire videretur.

Simplex, apertus, sibique semper similis, Nihil ostentavit aut arte fictum aut cura Elaboratum.

In senatu, regi patriaeque Fideliter studuit;Vulgi obstrepentis contemptor animosus, Domi inter mille mercaturae negotia Literarum elegantiam minime neglexit.

Amicis quocunque modo laborantibus, Conciliis, auctoritate, muneribus adfuit.

Inter familiares, comites, convivas, hospites, Tam facili fuit morum suavitate Ut omnium animos ad se alliceret;Tam felici sermonis libertate Ut nulli adulatus, omnibus placeret.

Natus 1724. Ob. 1781.

Consortes tumuli habet Rodolphum patrem, strenuum fortemque virum, et Henricum filium unicum, quem spei parentum mors inopina decennem praeripuit.

Ita Domus felix et opulenta, quam erexit Avus, auxitque pater, cum nepote decidit.

Abi viator!

Et vicibus rerum humanarum perspectis, AEternitatem cogita!

Here are deposited the remains of HENRY THRALE, Who managed all his concerns in the present world, public and private, in such a manner as to leave many wishing he had continued longer in it;And all that related to a future world, as if he had been sensible how short a time he was to continue in this.

Simple, open, and uniform in his manners, his conduct was without either art or affectation.

In the senate steadily attentive to the true interests of his king and country, He looked down with contempt on the clamours of the multitude:

Though engaged in a very extensive business, He found some time to apply to polite literature And was ever ready to assist his friends labouring under any difficulties, with his advice, his influence, and his purse.

To his friends, acquaintance, and guests, he behaved with such sweetness of manners as to attach them all to his person:

So happy in his conversation with them, as to please all, though he flattered none.

He was born in the year 1724, and died in 1781.

In the same tomb lie interred his father, Ralph Thrale, a man of vigour and activity, And his only son Henry, who died before his father, Aged ten years.

Thus a happy and opulent family, Raised by the grandfather, and augmented by the father, became extinguished with the grandson.

Go, Reader!

And reflecting on the vicissitudes of all human affairs, Meditate on eternity.

I never recollect to have heard that Dr. Johnson wrote inions for any sepulchral stones except Dr. Goldsmith's, in Westminster Abbey, and these two in Streatham Church. He made four lines once on the death of poor Hogarth, which were equally true and pleasing. I know not why Garrick's were preferred to them.

"The hand of him here torpid lies, That drew th' essential form of grace;Here clos'd in death th' attentive eyes, That saw the manners in the face."Mr. Hogarth, among the variety of kindnesses shown to me when I was too young to have a proper sense of them, was used to be very earnest that I should obtain the acquaintance, and if possible the friendship, of Dr.

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