Than laboured compositions. This appeared more conspicuous to his acquaintance, from his facility, copiousness, and elegance in conversation, which was neither stiff or forced; But all seemed to flow from an exuberant natural source; which has left it a question, Whether he was a better poet or companion. IN ST. GILES' IN THE FIELDS. To the Memory of Richard Pendrell, Who died Feb. 8, 1671. Preserver and conductor of King Charles the 2d. after Like when the eastern star from heav'n gave light Now to triumph in heav'ns eternal sphere, He's hence advanc'd for his just steerage here; "The king left Worcester at six o'clock in the afternoon, after the battle of Worcester, (Sep. 2, 1651,) and, without halting, travelled about twenty-six miles, in company with fifty or sixty of his friends. To provide for his safety he thought it best to separate himself from his companions; and he left them without communicating his intentions to any of them. By the earl of Derby's directions, he went to Boscobel, a lone house in the borders of Staffordshire, inhabited by one Pendrell, a farmer. To this man Charles entrusted himself. The man had dignity of sentiments much above his condition; and though death was denounced against all who concealed the king, and a great reward promised to any one who should betray him, he professed and maintained unshaken fidelity. He took the assistance of his four brothers, equally honourable with himself; and having clothed the king in a garb like their own, they led him into the neighbouring wood, put a bill into his hand, and pretended to employ themselves in cutting faggots. Some nights he lay upon straw in the house, and fed on such homely fare as it afforded. For a better concealment, he mounted upon an oak, where he sheltered himself among the leaves and branches for twenty-four hours. He saw several soldiers pass by. All of them were intent in search of the king; and some expressed, in his hearing, their earnest wishes of seizing him. This tree was afterwards denominated the Royal Oak; and for many years was regarded by the neighbourhood with great veneration."-Hume's Hist. of England. ་ On George Alexander Stevens. A second Alexander here lies dead, And not less fam'd-at taking off a head. ABBEY CHURCH, BATH. On James Quin, the celebrated Actor. That tongue, which set the table on a roar, Which spoke, before the tongue, what Shakespear writ; Clos'd are those hands, which living were stretch'd forth, At friendship's call, to succour modest worth, AT VIVAY, IN SWITZERLAND. Stop and behold Here lies EDMUND LUDLOW, Knight and Member of Parliament, Honourable by descent, but more so by his own virtue; By religion a protestant, and eminent for piety; In the 23d. year of his age, he was made Colonel of a Regiment, And soon after Lieutenant General of the Army. In victory merciful and humane. Though worthy a better fortune, Flew to the eternal seats of joy. His most beloved courageous, and most sorrowful consort, as well in misfortune as in matrimony. Mrs. Elizabeth de Thomas Who moved by greatness of mind, and the force of conjugal affection, constantly followed him in his exile till his death, Consecrated this monument in perpetual memory of her true and sincere affection to her deceased husband, in the year of our Lord 1693. General Ludlow, a member of the high court of justice which passed sentence on King Charles I. was excepted in the act of indemnity passed at the restoration.-He retired to Vivay in Switzerland, where he resided many years, under the generous protection of the lords of the Council of Berne: his paternal seat and estate which was Maiden Bradley, in Wilts, was given by the crown to Sir Edward Seymour. ON P. DODDRIDGE, D. D. Ob. Oct. 26, 1751, aged 50. Sublime of genius! and with science bless'd, Who, like the sun, enlightens while he warms; A seraph's knowledge with a seraph's zeal: Doddridge! these rich embellishments, combin'd, Were thine-but who can paint an angel's mind? Heav'n saw thee ripe for glory; and, in love, Remov'd thee hence, to grace the realms above. On the Rev. LAURENCE STERNE. Died 1768. Sterne, rest for ever, and no longer fear The critic's censure, or the coxcomb's sneer, |