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Fourth Series.

EPITAPHIC.

On a Governess.

And silently returns to dust, near this small sacred stone,

All that was mortal of a Saint-if ever Earth had one.

On a Merchant.

For thee-though pride no marbled fiction rear,
And flattery's pen thy life shall ne'er commend—
Long shall affection pour the secret tear,

And mourn the Christian, Husband, Father, Friend.

On Three Children who Died Young.

Vain was our love-vain were our hopes-vain, vair were all our prayers:

Is it that Heaven permits on Earth no happier lot than theirs?

On a Statuette of the late Prince Consort.

Faithlessly and thanklessly,
We still for thee repine;
Yet God grant frail humanity
A few more lives like thine!
And if there can

Be a better man,
May every son

Of thine be one!

The late Prince Consort's is, I think, the most beautiful life in the world's history.

Considering that he was born a prince in a small German Principality, it is impossible to over-rate the excellence of his disposition, his judgment, or his conduct. As regards Her Majesty, the people of this country owe a debt of gratitude to the late Duchess of Kent, which can scarcely be fully paid, and which we are prone to forget; and the obligation we are under to those who had the education and training of the Prince Consort is of the same kind. In my early walks by the Prince Consort National Memorial, I have sometimes wished for a slight change in the dedicatory inscription. It now reads thus:

"Queen Victoria and her people,
To the memory of Albert, Prince Consort,
As a tribute of their gratitude

For a life devoted to the public good."

If the expression " to the public good" had been "to their good," it would have better stated the truth. Surely the Prince Consort was not less exemplary or less devoted to duty in private than in public life.

On the Prince's early death, many sermons were preached, and a distinguished prelate (now deceased) led the way in exhorting his congregation to consider the loss of the Prince as a divine punishment for national transgressions. Many other clergymen followed the same course, which was surely a very presumptuous and profane one. There was no natural connection between the Prince's death and any national sins, and what could the preachers know of the supernatural? It must also, I suppose, be believed that the Judge of all the earth would do right (Gen. xviii. 25), and proportion the punishment (whether natural or supernatural) in every case to the guilt of the offender. Now did the Right Rev. Prelate and his followers consider for a moment on what sacred head the greatest amount of affliction was certain to fall? Was She the chief transgressor in the country? The loyalty and the piety of such preaching seem equal.

On an Able and Admirable Judge.

So sleeps at last dear old judge Styles-
His life-long labour 's done-
Master of all the devil's wiles,

He never practised one

Query, which one? He was for several years the most successful verdict-getter at the bar.

On the most splendid Princess in Europe.

Low is the glorious Beauty laid;

Her voice shall charm no more;
Though Angels worshipp'd while she pray'd
And-Demons when she swore.-(1851.)

On an hereditary Legislator.

Here still rots on old Mornington the curst-
Of pleasure's miscreants probably the worst.

This was the infamous roué and rogue, the Honorable William Pole-Tylney-Long-Wellesley.

Future great heiresses can do nothing better than compare the unhappy life of Miss Tylney-Long, or even that of Mrs. George Watson-Taylor, with the life of the Baroness Burdett-Coutts.

On another.

Though the peasant rejoices
To stand near his hearse,
And our young children's voices
His memory curse-

The laurels infernal

May blaze round his brow,

And spirits eternal

Give him glory below.-(1854.)

This was the idol of our Chartist classes

May God forgive the duped and patient asses— And free from demagogues and cheats their blundering reckless masses!

So ends the miser, Thistleton,
To Earth his bones are given;
To Hell his avarice is gone;
And what is left for Heaven?

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