Bury St. Edmund's.

MARY HASLETON

During a violent storm of thunder and lightning, was struck dead by a fire-ball which fell in the house, and slightly hurt her mother.

Here lies interred the body of
MARY HASLETON,

A young maiden of this parish,
Aged 9 years;

Born of Roman Catholic parents,
And virtuously brought up;
Who, being in the act of prayer,
Repeating her vespers,

Was instantaneously killed by a flash of lightning,
August 16, 1785.

Not Siloam's ruinous tow'r the victims slew,
Because above the many sinn'd the few :

Nor here the fated lightning wreak'd his rage,
By vengeance sent for crimes matur'd by age;
For whil'st the thunder's awful voice was heard,
The little suppliant, with its hands uprear'd,
Address'd her God in pray'rs the priest had taught;
His mercy crav'd, and his protection sought.

Learn, reader, hence, that wisdom to adore,

Thou canst not scan; and fear his boundless pow'r. Safe shalt thou be, if thou perform'st his will;

Blest if he spares, and more blest should he kill!

ON JOHN ELWES, ESQ.

Here, to man's honour, or to man's disgrace,
Lies a strong picture of the human race

In Elwes' form;-whose spirit, heart, and mind,
Virtue and vice in firmest tints combin'd;
Rough was the rock, but blended deep with ore,
And base the mass-that many a diamond bore:
Meanness to grandeur, folly join'd to sense,
And av'rice coupled with benevolence :

Whose lips ne'er broke a truth, nor hands a trust,
Were sometimes warmly kind-and always just:
With power to reach ambition's highest birth,
He sunk a mortal-groveling to the earth;
Lost in the lust of adding pelf to pelf,
Poor to the poor-still poorer to himself:
Whose wants, that nearly bent to all but stealth,
Ne'er in his country's plunder dug for wealth;
Call'd by her voice but call'd without expense,
His noble nature rous'd in her defence;
And in the senate labouring in her cause,
The firmest guardian of the fairest laws
He stood; and each instinctive taint above,
To every bribe preferr'd a people's love;
Yet still with no stern patriotism fir'd,
Wrapt up in wealth, to wealth again retir❜d.
By penury guarded from pride's sickly train,
Living a length of days without a pain,
And adding to the millions never tried,
Lov'd-pitied-scorn'd-and honour'd-Elwes died!

Q

Learn from this proof, that, in life's tempting scene,
Man is a compound of the great and mean;
Discordant qualities together tied,

Virtues in him and vices are allied:
The sport of follies, or of crimes the heir

We all the mixtures of an Elwes share.
Pondering his faults-then ne'er his worth disown,
But in his nature recollect thine own;

And think-for life and pardon where to trust
Was God not mercy, when his creature's dust.

The father of John Elwes, Esq. was a brewer of great emi> nence in Southwark, the family name was Meggot,-his father died when he was only four years old. His mother, who he appears to have copied, though she was left near one hundred thousand pounds by her husband—she starved herself to death!

It is curious to remark, how Mr. Elwes contrived to mingle small attempts at saving with objects of the most unbounded dissipation. After sitting up a whole night at play for thousands, with the most fashionable and profligate men of the time, amidst splendid rooms, gilt sofas, wax-lights, and waiters attendant on his call, he would walk out about four in the morning, not towards home, but into Smithfield! to meet his own cattle, which were coming to market from Thaydon Hall, a farm of his in Essex. There would this same man, forgetful of the scenes he had just left, stand in the cold or rain, bartering with a carcass-butcher for a shilling! sometimes when the cattle did not arrive at the hour he expected, he would walk on in the mire to meet them; and, more than once, has gone on foot the whole way to his farm without stopping, which was seventeen miles from London, after sitting up the whole night.

Had every man been in the mind of Mr. Elwes, the race of innkeepers must have perished, and post-chaises have been returned back to those who made them; for it was the business of his life to avoid both. He always travelled on horseback. To see him setting out on a journey, was a matter truly curious: his first care was to put two or three eggs, boiled hard, into his great-coat pocket, or any scraps of bread which he found-baggage he never took--then, mounting one of his hunters, his next attention was to get out of London, into that road where turnpikes were the fewest. Then, stopping under any hedge where grass presented itself for his horse, and a little water for himself, he would sit down and refresh himself and his horse together here presenting a new species of bramin, worth five hundred thousand pounds.

The chief residence of Mr. Elwes, at one period of his life, was in Berkshire, at his own seat at Marcham. Here it was he had two sons born who inherit the greater part of his property, by a will made about the year 1785. He failed not however, at this time, to pay very frequent visits to Sir Hervey, his uncle, and used to attend him in his daily amusement of partridgesetting. Mr. Elwes was then supposed to have some of the best setting dogs in the kingdom-Their breed and colour were peculiar they were of a black tan, and more resembled a hound than a setter. As a proof of their strength and speed, Mr. Elwes once told me, that one of them, in following him to London, hunted all the fields adjoining the road—a distance of sixty miles.

On the death ofhis uncle, Mr. Elwes came to reside at Stoke, in Suffolk. Bad as was the mansion-house he found here, he left one still worse behind him at Marcham, of which the late colonel Timms, his nephew, used to mention the following proof. A few days after he went thither, a great quantity of rain fell in the night-he had not been long in bed before he felt himself wet through; and putting his hand out

of the clothes, found the rain was dropping through the ceiling upon the bed-he got up, and moved the bed; but he had not lain long before he found the same inconvenience. Again he got up, and again the rain came down. At length, after pushing the bed quite round the room, he got into a corner where the ceiling was better secured, and he slept till morn ing. When he met his uncle at breakfast, he told him what had happened" Aye! aye!" said the old man, "I don't mind it myself; but to those who do, that's a nice corner in the rain!"

For further particulars of this extraordinary man see his life by Edward Topham, Esq.

ON LADY E. MANSELL,

Niece to the Mother of Sir Hervey Elwes.

Vive pius, moriere pius! cole sacra! colentem
Mors gravis e templis in cava busta trahat!

Though the whole life should pass without a stain,
With piety, alike in health or pain,

To Heav'n resign'd still death shall be thy doom,
And snatch thee from the altar to the tomb.

The Inscription.

Beneath the covering of this little stone,
Lie the poor shrunk, yet dear, remains of One,
With merit humble, and with virtue fair,

With knowledge modest, and with wit sincere ;