EPITAPH S,

&c. &c.

The Inscription upon the Statue of
JOHN HOWARD, Esa.

Erected to his Memory in St. Paul's Cathedral, 1796, by Whitbread

This extraordinary man

Had the fortune to be honoured, whilst living,
In the manner which his virtues deserved.
He received the thanks

Of both Houses of the British and Irish Parliaments,
For his eminent services rendered to his country
And mankind.

Our National Prisons and Hospitals, Improved upon the suggestion of his wisdom, Bear testimony to the solidity of his judgement, And to the estimation in which he was held In every part of the civilized world,

Which he traversed to reduce the sum of human'

misery.

From the Throne to the Dungeon, his name was Mentioned with respect, gratitude, and admiration!

B

Defeated various efforts that were made during his life, To erect this Statue,

Which the publick has now consecrated to his memory.
He was born at Hackney in the county of Middlesex,
Sept. 2, 1726.

The early part of his life was spent in retirement,
Residing principally on his paternal estate
at Cardington, in Bedfordshire,

For which county he served the office of Sheriff,
In the year 1773.

He expired at Cherson, in Russian Tartary,
On the 20th January, 1790,

A victim to the perilous and benevolent attempt To ascertain the cause of, and find an efficacious remedy for the plague.

He trod an open, but unfrequented path to immortality, In the ardent and unintermitted exercise of Christian

Charity.

May this tribute to his fame

Excite an emulation of his truly glorious atchievements.

Written by Sir William Jones for himself.

Here was deposited,

The mortal part of a man,
Who feared GOD but not death;
And maintained independence,

But sought not riches.;

None below him, but the base and unjust, None above him, but the wise and virtuous;

Who loved

His parents, kindred, friends, country,
With an ardour,

Which was the chief source of

All his pleasures and all his pains;
And who having devoted

His life to their service,
And to

The improvement of his mind,
Resigned it calmly

Giving glory to his Creator,
Wishing peace on earth,
And with

Good will to all creatures,

. On the [Twenty-seventh] day of [April,] In the Year of our blessed Redeemer One Thousand Seven Hundred and [Ninety-four.]

CANTERBURY CLOISTERS.

On Master Hall.

Tho' infant years no pompous honors claim,

The vain parade of monumental fame,

To be their praise; the last great day shall rear The spotless innocence that sleepeth here.

On a Tomb Stone,

In the Burying Ground in the City Road.

To the memory of

The venerable JOHN WESLEY, A. M.
Late Fellow of Lincoln College, Oxford.
This great light arose,

By the singular providence of God,

To enlighten these nations,

And to revive, enforce, and defend
The pure apostolical doctrine and practice of
The primitive church,

Which he continued to defend, both by his
Labours and his writings,

For more than half a century;

And who, to his inexpressible joy,
Not only beheld their influence extending,
And their efficacy witnessed,

In the hearts and lives of many thousands,
As well in the western world as in these kingdoms,
But also, far above all human power or expectation,
Lived to see provision made by the singular
Grace of God,

For their continuance and establishment,

To the joy of the future generations. Reader if thou art constrained to bless the

Instrument,

Give God the glory.

After having languished a few days,
He at length finished

His course and his life together,
Gloriously triumphing over death,
March 2d, Anno Domini 1791,
In the 88th year

of his age..

IN ELMSET CHURCH, SUFFOLK.

Here lyeth the Body of Edwardgerland of Grayes Inn, Esquire, descended from the ancient family of the Sherlands, in the Isle of Sheppey, in Kent, who lived his whole life a single man, and dyed in this Parish the 13th of May 1609.

Tombes have noe use, unless it be to showe
The due respecte which friend to friend doth owe;
'Tis not a mausolean monument,

Or hireling epitaph, that can prevent
The flux of fame: a painted sepulchre
Is but a rotten trustlesse treasurer,

And a

fair gate built to oblivion.

But he whose life, whose every action,

Like well wrought stones and pyramides erecte,
This monument to honor and respecte

As this man's did; he needs no other herse,
Yet hath but due, laying both tombe and verses