No more I feel each urging breath;
My steam is now condensed in death.
Life's railway o'er, each station's passed,
In death I'm stopped, and rest at last.
Farewell, dear friends, and cease to weep:
In Christ I'm safe; in Him I sleep.

In the Ludlow churchyard is a headstone to the memory of John Abingdon "who for forty

years drove the Ludlow stage to London, a trusty servant, a careful driver, and an honest man." He died in 1817, and his epitaph is as follows:

His labor done, no more to town,

His onward course he bends;
His team's unshut, his whip's laid up,

And here his journey ends.

Death locked his wheels and gave

And never more to move,

hiin rest,

Till Christ shall call him with the blest

To heavenly realms above.

The epitaph we next give is on the driver of the coach that ran between Aylesbury and London, by the Rev. H. Bullen, Vicar of Dunton, Bucks, in whose churchyard the man was buried :—

PARKER, farewell! thy journey now is ended,
Death has the whip-hand, and with dust is blended;

Thy way-bill is examined, and I trust

Thy last account may prove exact and just.

When he who drives the chariot of the day,

Where life is light, whose Word's the living way,

Where travellers, like yourself, of every age,
And every clime, have taken their last stage,
The God of mercy, and the God of love,
Show you the road to Paradise above!

Lord Byron wrote on John Adams, carrier, of Southwell, Nottinghamshire, an epitaph as follows:

JOHN ADAMS lies here, of the parish of Southwell,
A carrier who carried his can to his mouth well;
He carried so much, and he carried so fast,
He could carry no more-so was carried at last ;
For the liquor he drank, being too much for one,
He could not carry off-so he's now carri-on.

On Hobson, the famous University carrier, the following lines were written :—

Here lies old HOBSON : death has broke his girt,
And here! alas, has laid him in the dirt;
Or else the ways being foul, twenty to one
He's here stuck in a slough and overthrown :
'Twas such a shifter, that, if truth were known,
Death was half glad when he had got him down ;
For he had any time these ten years full,
Dodged with him betwixt Cambridge and the Bull;
And surely Death could never have prevailed,
Had not his weekly course of carriage failed.

But lately finding him so long at home,

And thinking now his journey's end was come,

And that he had ta'en up his latest inn,

In the kind office of a chamberlain

Showed him the room where he must lodge that night,

Pulled off his boots and took away the light.

If any ask for him it shall be said,

Hobson has supt and's newly gone to bed.

In Trinity churchyard, Sheffield, formerly might be seen an epitaph on a bookseller, as follows:

In Memory of

RICHARD SMITH, who died

April 6th, 1757, aged 52.

At thirteen years I went to sea;
To try my fortune there,

But lost my friend, which put an end
To all my interest there.

To land I came as 'twere by chance,
At twenty then I taught to dance,
And yet unsettled in my mind,
To something else I was inclined;
At twenty-five laid dancing down,
To be a bookseller in this town,
Where I continued without strife,
Till death deprived me of my life.
Vain world, to thee I bid farewell,
To rest within this silent cell,
Till the great God shall summon all
To answer His majestic call,

Then, Lord, have mercy on us all.

The following epitaph was written on James Lackington, a celebrated bookseller, and eccentric character :

Good passenger, one moment stay,
And contemplate this heap of clay;
'Tis LACKINGTON that claims a pause,

Who strove with death, but lost his cause :
A stranger genius ne'er need be
Than many a merry year was he.

Some faults he had, some virtues too
(the devil himself should have his due);
And as dame fortune's wheel turn'd round,
Whether at top or bottom found,

He never once forgot his station,
Nor e'er disown'd a poor relation ;
In poverty he found content,

Riches ne'er made him insolent.

When poor, he'd rather read than eat,
When rich books form'd his highest treat,
His first great wish to act, with care,
The sev'ral parts assigned him here;
And, as his heart to truth inclin'd,
He studied hard the truth to find.
Much pride he had,-'twas love of fame,
And slighted gold, to get a name ;
But fame herself prov'd greatest gain,

For riches follow'd in her train.

Much had he read, and much had thought,

And yet, you see, he's come to nought;
Or out of print, as he would say,
To be revised some future day:

Free from errata, with addition,

A new and a complete edition.

At Rugby, on Joseph Cave, Dr. Hawksworth

wrote:

Near this place lies the body of

JOSEPH CAVE,

Late of this parish;

Who departed this life Nov. 18, 1747,

Aged 79 years.

He was placed by Providence in a humble station; but industry abundantly supplied the wants of nature, and temperance blest him with content and wealth. As he was an affectionate father, he was made happy in the decline of life by the deserved eminence of his eldest son,

EDWARD CAVE,

who, without interest, fortune, or connection, by the native force of his own genius, assisted only by a classical education, which he received at the Grammar School of this town, planned, executed, and established a literary work called

The Gentleman's Magazine,

whereby he acquired an ample fortune, the whole of which devolved to his family.

Here also lies

The body of WILLIAM CAVE,

second son of the said JOSEPH CAVE, who died May 2, 1757, aged 62 years, and who, having survived his elder brother,

EDWARD CAVE,

inherited from him a competent estate; and, in gratitude to his benefactor, ordered this monument to perpetuate his memory. He lived a patriarch in his numerous race, And shew'd in charity a Christian's grace : Whate'er a friend or parent feels he knew ; His hand was open, and his heart was true ; In what he gain'd and gave, he taught mankind

A grateful always is a generous mind.

Here rests his clay! his soul must ever rest,

Who bless'd when living, dying must be blest.

The well-known blacksmith's epitaph, said to be written by the poet Hayley, may be found in many churchyards in this country. It formed the