Epitaphs for Country Churchyards

Front matter

PRINTED BY MESSRS. PARKER, CORN-MARKET, OXFORD.

Preface

In a recent tour on the Wye and among the villages of Herefordshire and Monmouthshire, I have often stopped to examine the Epitaphs in the churchyards. It is sad to see bow unsuitable, how almost ludicrous, many of them are. It is not only that they are devoid of beauty, but that they are calculated to drag down the minds of the survivors; chaining them to the recollection of the sufferings which their departed friends endured in their lifetime, harrowing them by the repetition, and in the end holding out no lesson to be learnt, no comfort to look to, no hope of rest in another world.

The chief variety upon these inscriptions is usually a catalogue of the virtues of the deceased, which would belong rather to heathen morality than to Christian humility.

It is strange that amidst the most beautiful scenery, where all nature combines to praise the Maker and Creator of all things, the home of the dead—a place where so many lessons may be learnt, so many solemn warnings given, so many new aims and efforts encouraged—should be utterly devoid of all that can lead the soul upwards, but should savour only of this world, and the things of it, without one glance at the world beyond.

"An Epitaph," says the poet Wordsworth, in his "Essay on Epitaphs," "is not a proud writing shut up for the studious; it is exposed to all, to the wise and to the most ignorant; it is condescending, perspicuous, and lovingly solicits regard; its story and admonitions are brief; that the thoughtless, the busy and indolent, may not be deterred, nor the impatient tired; the stooping old man cons the engraven record like a second horn-book, the child is proud that he can read it, and the stranger is introduced by its mediation to the company of a friend; it is concerning all, and for all; in the churchyard it is open to the day; the sun looks down upon the stone, and the rains of heaven beat against it."

The benefits which result from this publicity may be seen in the instances which have oftentimes occurred, when in worldly and unbelieving hearts, which have seemed impervious to any ray from the light of God's truth, an impression has been made by the words of a simple Epitaph in a country churchyard, which the reading of many wise books, and the teaching of many wise men, have failed to convey. Perhaps it is that such a lesson comes more solemnly and forcibly in a place where everything reminds us of the end of life, and the destruction of all this world's hopes and aims. Perhaps it may be caused by the memory of the lives and deaths of those whose graves they mark, or from the affection with which they have been regarded. however this may be, it is certain that epitaphs on churchyard gravestones have been one of the means by which God is pleased to warn, and rouse, and teach His people. But how can this be done, when the epitaph only conveys all that is offensive to the mind; when bad grammar, bad diction, and worse thoughts unite to render it rather ludicrous than instructive?

On three several adjoining gravestones I have often noticed variations of that miserable doggrel which tells of—

Affliction sore long time I bore, Physicians were in vain, Till death gave ease, as God was please, To ease me of my pain."

This is only one of many Epitaphs of the same kind, which are among the chief favourites in our country villages, and are often repeated over and over again in the same churchyard. In many places the poor are in the habit of bringing a book, which contains a collection of these churchyard rhymes, to the rector of their parish, in order that he may assist them in choosing one for the monument which they intend to set up. In this case the clergyman has the power of trying to persuade the people to be content with a text of Scripture, or even with the name of their friend and the date of his death, instead of rhyme; but in spite of this we see our churchyards rapidly filled with absurd and almost pagan trash.

A great contrast will be seen by those who have travelled on the Continent, in the country churchyards of Germany or Switzerland, where the simple crosses which mark the resting-place of the dead are like beacons of hope and comfort, and the inscriptions tell in beautiful and appropriate words their short tale of life and death, and remind us how the dead are only gone home before us. In these resting-places mourners may linger and meditate on the happy change for those who are gone, and are not reminded of any earthly cares or sorrows by the sight of their graves. The two simple names which the Germans give to a churchyard are Gottes-Aker, or "God's-acre," and Friedhof, or the "Peace-yard;" and these in themselves are sufficient to shew how dear and holy a place it is to them. Here the widow loves to linger and ponder on the memory of him who is taken away; and here the mother, while resting by the graves of her children, can think with peace, and almost with joy, of the rest and the blessed home whither they are gone.

And why cannot this be the case in England too? Is it because England is a small island in a northern sea that it is to be shut out from all those beautiful thoughts which are suggested through the medium of outward images? Is it because it is a mercantile and busy nation, because it prides itself upon being free from the frivolities of France and the romance of Germany, that its churchyards, instead of being "God's-acre,"—thought of and remembered as consecrated ground, and looked upon as the home of the dead,—should be allowed to run wild, uncared for and neglected; often overgrown with nettles and thistles; often considered and used as a lawful sheep-fold by the neighbouring farmers? Above all, is it for this reason that, after wading through a thicket of briars and a bed of nettles, you come to a tomb, where the words, which should, if possible, give comfort, which should certainly teach a lesson to those who look upon it, should only tell

How pale consumption Gave the fatal blow: The stroke was certain, But the progress slow."

And then, as if these details of the sufferer's last illness were not sufficient, proceed to describe, in bad spelling, how

With wasteing pain Death found me sore oppress'd, Pityed my sighs, And surally gave me rest."

Surely these are not the images which it is best that our graves should present; these are not the thoughts to which death and its accompaniments are intended to draw the mind of the living. The Epitaph is not only meant to dwell upon the sufferings of this corruptible body, but it should remind us that the same body is to be raised incorruptible. It is not only to tell of its being sown in corruption, but it should point forward with the finger of hope to the time when it will be raised in in-corruption. It should not only dwell upon the agony of separation from those who are left, but it should point to the time "when those who sleep in Christ shall God bring with Him," - when "there shall be no more parting." Instead of dwelling on the pain on earth, should it not tell of that land where there is no more pain? Instead of dwelling upon earthly sorrow, should it not look beyond to that land " where God shall wipe away all tears from our eyes?" I do not mean that there are not exceptions to this rule and striking exceptions, even in England. Those who have seen the churchyards of Claverton, near Bath, or of Upton St. Leonard's, near Gloucester, will know how different is the impression produced where they are objects of love and care; and those who have walked in the beautiful new churchyard at Highnam, surrounded by its belt of dark Irish yews, cannot but admire the spirit of that founder who, when he built and adorned one of the most beautiful modern edifices in England, did not forget to bestow his care also upon the "acre" dedicated to God, and destined as a resting-place for His people.

There are also many beautiful and touching Epitaphs in our own English tongue;—some in the simple language of our forefathers, written on mouldering and mossy grave-stones of bygone centuries, and some by eminent divines of our own time, less known, but not less beautiful.

Who that has visited the Lady-chapel of Worcester Cathedral, does not remember the small tablet to the wife of the famous Izaak Walton?—

"Here lyeth buried, soe much as could die, of Anne, wife of Izaak Walton, who was a woman of remarkable prudence and of the primitive piety: her great and generall knowledge, being adorned with soe much true humility, and blest with soe much Christian meeknesse, as made her worthy of a more memorable monument.

She died (alas, that she is dead!) the 17th of April, 1662, aged 52.

Study to be like her." In Claverton Church is a Latin inscription, which, from its simplicity, well deserves the English translation, which is already well-known:—

"In the hope of a blessed resurrection, here the body (formerly the abode of a most holy mind) of a young wife shall return to dust—Mary, the wife of Moses Tryon of Harringworth, in the county of Northampton, the eldest daughter of William Bassett, Esq.—Whilst she lived, a dear wife; who having brought forth one infant, returned her soul to her Creator calmly, and with great faith in Christ. This lasting monument of his grief, and in memorial of his love for her precious dust, her husband has erected.

The mother went before, May 13, | 1628.

The infant followed, May 23,

"Ye shall haste to heaven together."

The poor do not need long Epitaphs,—they do not care for any depth of meaning or poetry of expression; the more simple the words and thoughts, the more suited are they to their minds, and the more does the Epitaph come home to their hearts. It is the want of Epitaphs such as these which makes them have recourse to the old worn-out rhymes over and over again. They would write better if they could, but they cannot. It is a want of this kind which this little book is intended to supply. However inefficient this attempt may be to supply the deficiency, I hope it may be the means of stirring up others to take the work in hand, who will be better able to carry it out.

The greater part of the verses and sentences contained in this volume are collected from well-known, though various, sources, and will easily be recognised by the larger portion of my readers; some few are original; and many, received from different sources, now appear in print for the first time.

The object of an Epitaph should be threefold: first, to commemorate the dead; secondly, to comfort the mourners; and thirdly, to teach a lesson to those who read it.

The first of these objects is accomplished in that part of an Epitaph which usually gives the name and the date. It has been, and often is still, the custom to add to this a sort of history of the deceased, a catalogue of their Christian graces and perfections: and it may be asked why I do not give some forms for the expression of these; but, as has been observed by one of the greatest of our living poets, "an Epitaph is not intended to be a biography." Is it not, therefore, better simply to give the name of the person over whose grave the stone is raised,—the age, perhaps, or the dates of birth and death? There may be occasions when it is well that some particular incident, either of life or death, should be recorded on the tomb, when some record should be written, even there, of what the deceased was or did in life; but as a general rule, it is better to make the inscription as simple as possible. This inscription may be commenced in many ways:—the words "In memory of," "In loving memory of," are among the most suitable expressions. The subjoined is from a German inscription at Basle:—

"In the hope of a joyful meeting in the land of everlasting love the earthly tabernacle of Valeria Marian Hoffne was laid in the bosom of the earth." * * * * *

The second and third objects I have mentioned are fulfilled in the latter part of the Epitaph; and this is done either by a text of Scripture, a sentence of hope and comfort, or by lines of poetry; and to assist in the choice of these, these pages are intended.

I shall therefore divide them into three parts. The first will contain texts chosen from Holy Scripture,—and in most cases these are the best and the simplest Epitaphs; for what can be more blessed than that hope and comfort with which Christ, still speaking through His Word, calms and comforts the troubled mind, even as He once comforted the sisters of Bethany with His blessed words, "I am the Resurrection and the Life?" The second part will contain brief sentences; and the third, verses of poetry. Would that they might be the means of bringing comfort to one sorrowing heart would that they might lead one soul to prepare for that Resurrection, when all those who are in the graves shall go forth to meet their God, and when graves and Epitaphs shall be needed no more!

Texts

"He walked with God: and he was not; for God took him."—Gen. v. 24.

"There the wicked cease from troubling; and there the weary be at rest."—Job iii. 17.

"I know that my redeemer liveth, and that He shall stand at the latter day upon the earth: "And though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God."—Job xix. 25, 26.

"When God giveth quietness, who then can make trouble?"—Job xxxiv. 29.

"As for man, his days are as grass: as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth. "For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone; and the place thereof shall know it no more."—Ps. ciii. 15, 16.

"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints."—Ps. cxvi. 15.

"He giveth His beloved sleep."—Ps. cxxvii. 2.

"The Lord is nigh unto all them that call upon Him, to all that call upon Him in truth. "He will fulfil the desire of them that fear Him: He also will hear their cry, and will save them."—Ps. cxlv. 18, 19.

"The Lord preserveth all them that love Him."—Ps. cxlv. 20.

"The righteous hath hope in his death."—Prov. xiv. 32.

"Boast not thyself of to-morrow; for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth."—Prov. xxvii. 1.

"The dust shall return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it."—Eccles. xii. 7.

"He will swallow up death in victory; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from off all faces; "And it shall be said in that day, Lo, this is our God; we have waited for Him, and He will save us."—Isa. xxv. 8, 9.

"Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee because he trusteth in Thee."—Isa. xxvi. 3.

"The ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads: they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away."—Isa. xxxv. 10.

"He shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in His bosom."—Isa. xl. 11.

"Her sun is gone down while it was yet day."—Jer. xv. 9.

"Jesus called a little child unto him."—Matt. xviii. 2.

"Jesus said, Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto Me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven."—Matt. xix. 14.

"Watch: for ye know not what hour your Lord doth come."—Matt. xxiv. 42.

"Be ye also ready: for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of Man cometh."—Matt. xxiv. 44.

"The damsel is not dead, but sleepeth."—Mark v. 39.

"Blessed are those servants, whom the Lord when He cometh shall find watching."—Luke xii. 37.

"Why seek ye the living among the dead?"—Luke xxiv. 5.

"The hour is coming, in the which all that are in the graves shall hear His voice, and shall come forth; they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation."—John v. 28, 29.

"Our friend Lazarus sleepeth."—John xi. 11.

"I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live."—John xi. 25.

"We must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of God."—Acts xiv. 22.

"The wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord."—Rom. vi. 23.

"I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us."—Rom. viii. 18.

"I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."—Rom. viii. 38, 39.

"To this end Christ both died, and rose, and revived, that He might be Lord both of the dead and living."—Rom. xiv. 9.

"Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him."—1 Cor. ii. 9.

"Now is Christ risen from the dead, and become the firstfruits of them that slept. For since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive."—1 Cor. xv. 20–22.

"When this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory."—1 Cor. xv. 54.

"We have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens."—2 Cor. v. 1.

"Absent from the body, present with the Lord."—2 Cor. v. 8.

"We must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ; that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad."—2 Cor. v. 10.

"Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation."—2 Cor. vi. 2.

"For me to live is Christ, to die is gain."—Phil. i. 21.

"The Lord Jesus Christ shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto His glorious body, according to the working whereby He is able even to subdue all things unto Himself."—Phil. iii. 20, 21.

"If we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with Him."—1 Thess. iv. 14.

"Our Lord Jesus Christ died for us, that, whether we wake or sleep, we should live together with Him."—1 Thess. v. 10.

"Looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ."—Tit. ii. 13.

"There remaineth a rest for the people of God."—Heb. iv. 9.

"Christ is able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him, seeing He ever liveth to make intercession for them."—Heb. vii. 25.

"We have no continuing city, but we seek one to come."—Heb. xiii. 14.

"In their mouth was found no guile: for they are without fault before the throne of God."—Rev. xiv. 5.

"Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord; for they rest from their labours."—Rev. xiv. 13.

"God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes."—Rev. xxi. 4.

"He that overcometh shall inherit all things."—Rev. xxi. 7.

Sentences

"Seed sown to eternity."—(German Epitaph.)

Flowers which Death hath planted, God shall gather.—A.

The night is long, but the day which follows is everlasting.—A.

Death is not the end, but the regeneration of life.—A.

A Flower which God hath transplanted into his garden.—A.

Very terrible is the valley of the shadow of death, but it is the narrow way which leads to the garden of Paradise.—A.

Life is full of trials, but they are often like sign-posts, to guide us to a heavenly home.—A.

Life is often the Furnace which is intended to purify the soul for heaven.—A.

Death is dark and gloomy, but to the Christian it is only the cloud which hides the sunshine of heaven.—A.

Here lies a pardoned sinner: Reader, look to the same Saviour, and you will obtain the same grace.—C.

Tread lightly o'er this grave, for it contains precious, because ransomed, dust.—C.

"Life how short, Eternity how long!"

Weep not for the dead, for they are but sleeping, and those that sleep in Christ shall God bring with Him.—A.

Death is the close of time, the commencement of eternity.—M.

To him Life was trusting faith, Death attained reality.—M.

The Flowers which God hath planted, God hath plucked.—M.

Life maintains a continuous struggle between the flesh and spirit. Death celebrates the soul triumphant over the body.—M.

While we linger on the shore of Life, a wave wafts us to Eternity.—M.

"Waiting for the coming of Christ."

"It is well."

Reader, the same Saviour died for you and for me: pray that you may be more worthy of Him than I was.—A.

Reader, I was once living as thou art: remember that one day thou wilt be as I am now.—A.

This is a sinner's grave: pray that thou also enter not into temptation.—A.

"Christians, hope and pray."

Reader, live to-day to the glory of God: how knowest thou whether thou shalt live to-morrow?—A.

We are not dead, but waiting.—A.

What I gave, I have; What I spent, I had; What I left, I lost by not giving it."

(Tomb of Thomas Ravenscroft, 1708. Westminster Abbey.)

"O thou that passest by, revere the waiting dead."

(Martin F. Tupper.)

O Death, what art thou? an husbandman that reapeth always, Out of season, as in season, with the sickle in his hand."

(Tupper.)

How full of dread, how full of hope, loometh inevitable death: Of dread, for all have sinned; of hope, for One hath saved."

(Tupper.)

"Death is the gift of Life, but Life is the gift of Death."

(Epitaph of Fazio Cardan. Milan.) "To-day the man is here, to-morrow he hath disappeared.

"To-morrow is uncertain,—how knowest thou thou shalt live till to-morrow?

"Happy is he that always hath the hour of his death before his eyes, and daily prepareth himself to die.

"Whilst thou hast time, heap to thyself everlasting riches.

"Keep thy heart free, and lifted up to God, because here thou hast no abiding city.

"Very quickly will there be an end of thee here, look what will become of thee in another world."

(Thomas a Kempis.)

Death draws a veil alike over the virtues and vices of life. Let us hope and pray.—M.

To him Life was a long combat, Death a glorious victory.—M.

Weakness yields to strength,—the Creature surrenders to the Creator.—M.

Death is the shadowy twilight which is the presage of a fadeless dawn.—M.

Death is a goal never, a gate ever.—M.

Death brings a long night of dreamless slumber, awakening to an endless morn.—M.

"Seed sown in the field of God, to ripen unto immortality."

(Epitaph of Meta Klopstock.)

Weep not! he who was in life an heir, has in death attained an heritage.—M.

Verses

Beneath a sleeping infant lies, To earth whose body lent More glorious shall hereafter rise, But not more innocent. When the archangel's trump shall blow, And souls to bodies join, Millions will wish their lives below Had been as short as thine."

S. Wesley.

How often does the heav'nly Shepherd His peculiar love display; When He comes His flock to visit, And a lamb He bears away;—

Away to those sweet fields above, Where the lov'd ones hear His voice, See His face, and weep no more,— For in heav'n they all rejoice."

Ere sin could blight, or sorrow fade, Death came with friendly care, The opening buds to heaven convey'd, And bade them blossom there."

Hever Church, Kent.—Coleridge.

Within this grave an infant, nine months old, Is laid in trust.—God takes His purest gold First to Himself.—We all are but as flowers, That spring and grow, and fade in a few hours."

Gloucester Cathedral.

Why, mother, will you longer weep? Your baby is but lull'd asleep; And, pretty child, feels now no more The pains it often felt before. Now all is silent,—groans are fled; Your child lies still, yet is not dead; But rather like a flow'r lies here, To spring again another year."

Herrick.

Here side by side ow infants lie! Nor sickness frets, nor fear alarms. The lov'd ones of the Shepherd's eye, The lambs He carries in His arms! We weep,—yet angels seem to say, Who would see heav'n must be as they."

J. Snow.

God gave this treasure for a time, But, fathomless His will sublime, Our flowret scarcely liv'd to know His wondrous works on earth below. God took our darling child away,— Shall we not meekly bow, and say, His will be done,—to us a loan, The child is wholly now His own?—A.

Think not, beneath this grassy grave, Our son is laid to rest; The soul that Jesus died to save Liveth among the blest.—A.

Scarce had I flutter'd into life, And joy to my dear parents given, Than on my tender brow was placed, A crown of righteousness in heaven."

From the German.—C. L.

Like tender plant in fair array, She blossom'd here a little day, But oh! sweet hope, 'twas but a dream,— She pass'd away like flowing stream; Yet angel-voices seem to cry, From yonder bright and blissful sky, And tell of consolation there, Where all is lasting, bright, and fair."

From the German.—C. L.

Weep not, dear mother, weep not, I am blest, And must leave heaven did I return to thee; For I am where the weary are at rest, The wicked cease from troubling. Come to me."

Sweet babe, from griefs and dangers, Rest here, for ever free; We leave thy dust with strangers, But, O, we leave not thee.

Thy mortal sweetness, smitten To scourge our souls from sin, Is on our memr'y written, And treasur'd deep therein;

While that which is immortal Fond Hope doth still retain, And saith, 'At heaven's bright portal Ye all shall meet again.'"

From the Churchyard of Herne.—Moultrie.

Here innocence and beauty lies, whose breath Was snatch'd by early, not untimely, death; Hence was she snatch'd, just as she did begin Sorrow to know,—before she knew to sin. Death, that can sin and sorrow thus prevent, Is the next blessing to a life well spent."

On a Mother and her Infants.

From God they came, to God they went again; No sin they knew, and knew but little pain; And here they lie, by their fond mother's side, Who liv'd to love and lose them,—then she died."

Hartley Coleridge.

Those whom God loves die young! They see no evil days; No falsehood taints their tongue, No wickedness their ways.

Baptiz'd, and so made sure To win their blest abode; What could we pray for more? They die, and are with God."

Morwenstow.

Rest in peace, my darling, rest,— Thy body in its grassy grave; Thy soul in realms of glory blest,— The soul that Jesus died to save. At rest we'll strive to think of thee, Till once again in heaven we meet; Our hearts to God in love we'll raise, And lay our griefs at Jesu's feet.—A.

Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy, Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy; Dreams cannot picture a world so fair: Sorrow and death may not enter there; Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom, For beyond the clouds and beyond the tomb, It is there, it is there, my child."

Mrs. Hemans.

The mother gave, in tears and pain, The flowers she most did love; She knew she should find them all again In the fields of light above.

Oh, not in cruelty, not in wrath, The Reaper came that day; 'Twas an angel visited the green earth, And took the flowers away."

Longfellow.

Sleep, little baby, sleep! Not in thy cradle-bed, Not on thy mother's breast, Henceforth shall be thy rest, But with the quiet dead.

God took thee in His mercy, A lamb untask'd, untried; He fought the fight for thee, He won the victory, And thou art sanctified."

Mrs. Southey.

Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore thee, Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb, The Saviour has pass'd through its portals before thee, And the lamp of His love is thy light through the gloom.

Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore thee, Whose God was thy ransom, thy Guardian, thy Guide; He gave thee, He took thee, and He will restore thee; And Death has no sting, for the Saviour has died."

Bishop Heber.

Let no proud stone with sculptur'd virtues rise, To mark the spot wherein a sinner lies; Or if some boast must deck the sinner's grave, Boast of His love who died lost man to save."