MORE EPITAPHS.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 3035, 18 March 1881, Page 4

MORE EPITAPHS.

Tf we are to accept as genuine all the epitaphs copied into the printed collections, many examples exist of these applications of trade technicalities to gravestone purposes. one is attributed to Benjamin Frankhn, relating to himself, but with a blank left for the date of death : " The body of Benjamin F_an__ck, printer—like the cover of an old book, its contents torn out, and stript of its lettering and gilding—lies here food for worms. Yet the work itself shall not be lost ; for it will appear once more in anew Edition, corrected and amended by its Author." Another, said to hiJ7 c ( been suggested for but not by this famous printo.'" philosopher-statesman, depends for such merits as it possesses on an ingenious use of some of the types or characters employed by printers : "Be-WAMIN Fr.A_n_i.Yjr, the * of his profession ; the type of honesty ; the ! of all, and although the ©ST of Death has put a . to his existence, each § of his life has been without ||." The epitaph on the driver of one of the Aylesbury coaches was so managed asto bring in the coaching terms journey, whiphand, way-bill, account, drive, stage, and " show you the way. Lord Byron is credited with an epitaph on an old neighbour of his near Newstead :

John Afivms lies 'here, of the parish of South" well, A carrier, who carried his can to his mouth well; He carried so much, and he carried so fast, He couid carry no more, so was carried at Inst. ■For the liquor he drr.nk, being too much for one, He could not carry off, so he's now carrl-on.

When the celebrated General Wolfe died, S premium was offered for the best written epitaph on that brave officer. A number of poets of all descriptions entered the Competition, and anioug the" rest was one ■who addressed his communication to the editor of tho Public Ledger, as follows .•• He marched without dread or fears, At the head oi his bold grenadiers; And . h«* was more remarkable —nay, very particular, He olimofd up rocks that were quite perpendicular.

Perhaps the most unexpected of all epitaphs are those in which the mourning relatives of the deceased endeavour to make a little money out of their grief or to convert their sorrow into a little bit of trading or ahopkeeping. We must acquit tho dead man of any participation in the manoeuvre ; the epitaph is written when he is no longer in a condition to criticise it; and his poor bones are made ancillary to a trade advertisement.

Take the following as an example: " Flere lies the body of James Hambrigk, who was accidentally snot in the Pacns River by a young man, with one of Colt's large revolvers, with no stopper for the hammer to rest on. It was one of the oldfashioned sort, brass-mounted ; and of such is the kingdom of Heaven." Or the following : In one of the cemeteries near Paris, a Bmall lamp some years ago was kept burning under an urn over a grave ; and an inscription on the gravestone ran thus when translated into English : " .Here lies Pierre Victor Fotjekier, inventor of the Everlasting Lamp, which consumes only one centimes wovth of oil in one hour. He was a good father, son, and husband. His inconsolable widow continues his business in the Rue aux Trois. Goods sent to all parts of the city. Do not mistake the opposite 6hop for this." A tapster at TJpton-on-Severn certainly had! an eye to the main chance, if he really inscribed the following epitaph on his father's gravestone : Beneath this stone, io hope of Zion, Doth lie the landlord of the Lion ; His son keeps on the business still, Resigned unto the Heavenly will. And not less so an American stonemason, who made the same tombstone serve the double purpose of a mortuary memorial and a trade advertisement: " Here lies Jane Smith, wife of Thomas Smith, marblecutter. This monument was erected by her husband as a tribute to her memory, and as a specimen of his work. Monuments in this style, two hundred and fifty dollars." The lady to whom is attributed one graveyard effusion, had her thoughts unquestionably directed, if not to trade and shopkeeping, at least to matrimonial possibilities : "Sacred to tbe memory of James H. R. , who died August 6th, 1800. His widow, who mourns as one who can bo comforted, aged twenty-four, and possessing every quality for a good wife, lives at ." We have in an earlier paragraph ventured on a surmise that some epitaphs havo never gone beyond the limits of pen and ink, and cannot be trusted as veritable examples of graveyard literature. Mr Shirley Hibberd, an industrious collector of epitaphs, corroborates this view. He says < " Are there not hundreds of epitaphs in print which have no existence except as printers' paragraphs ? I have collected epitaphs for years past ; and it is suprising how many (and those some of the best in a literary sense) defy every attempt to trace them to Bepulchrai sources." The French are more prone than ourselves to indulge in these imaginary gravestone compositions; owing perhaps to the great epigrammatic power of their language One of their epitaphs gives a rub at the Academic Francaise, evidently out of favour with tho concocter: "Hero lies Pieon, who was nothing, not even an Academician." Fontaine, in one part of an epitaph attributed to him, described himself as having disposed of his time very easily ; seeing that he divided it into two portions, one for sleeping and one for doing nothing. An epitaph on a prodigal declares that he delighted in not paying his creditors ; the only debt be ever paid was the debt of Nature. One reason assigned for a husband honouring his deceased wife with a tombstone was because " the last day of her life was tbe first of his happiness." An epitaph on Cardinal Richelieu declared that " Here lies a famous Cardinal, who did more harm than good ; the good he did lie did badly; the bad he did he did well." An epitaph on Rousseau pronounced that his life had been too long by just one half : " for thirty years an object of admiration, for the other thirty an object of commisera-

tion." Of a humpback or bossu wj are told tiiat "as ho had carried a burden on his back all his life, ho deserved now to have a rest." Notwithstanding these literary winters, there can be no question of the genuineness of numberless epitaphs. They for the most part belong to the weak side of human nature. Ihe display of small vanities ; the unconscious manifestation of ignorance ; the thirst for strokes of humour, regardless of the contingencies of time and place ; the tendency to punning and displays of wit; tho yearning to " push" for trade and profit even at the side of tho grave; the flattering conceit of seeing one's own literary productions permanently graven on stone —all enter into the account. —Chamber's Journal.