life, and then forsook him, not to serve another master-for who speaks like him-but died before him; for that it was then become useless to him, that now conversed with God on earth, as angels are said to do in heaven, only by thoughts and looks. Being speechless, and seeing heaven by that illumination by which he saw it, he did, as St. Stephen, look steadfastly into it, till he saw the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God his father; * and being satisfied with this blessed sight, as his soul ascended, and his last breath departed from him, he closed his own eyes, and then disposed his hands and body into such a posture, as required not the least alteration by those that came to shroud him. Thus variable, thus virtuous was the life; thus excellent, thus exemplary was the death of this memorable man. He was buried in that place of St. Paul's church, which he had appointed for that use some years before his death; and by which he passed daily to pay his public devotions to Almighty God-who was then served twice a day by a public form of prayer and praises in that place :-but he was not buried privately, though he desired it; for, beside an unnumbered number of others, many persons of nobility, and of eminency for learning, who did love and honour him in this life, did show it at his death, by a voluntary and sad attendance of his body to the grave, where nothing was so remarkable as a public sorrow. To which place of his burial some mournful friend repaired, and, as Alexander the Great did to the grave of the famous Achilles, so they strewed his with an abundance of curious and *Acts, vii., 55. + When Alexander crossed the Hellespont, to visit the ruins of Ilium, he sacrificed to the heroes buried in the neighbourhood, especially to Achilles. Hephestion, as a mark of his friendship to Alexander, crowned the tomb of Patroclus with flowers.-Ant. Univ. Hist., v. viii., p. 507. The Amaranth, or Immortelle,-that fabled flower, supposed never to fade,-was the appropriate offering at the tomb of genius or fame. Flowers that wither, the fitting tribute at an untimely grave. Thus Shakspere : With fairest flowers Whilst Summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave. Thou shalt not lack costly flowers; which course, they-who were never yet known, -continued morning and evening for many days, not ceasing, till the stones, that were taken up in that church, to give his body admission into the cold earth-now his bed of rest-were again by the mason's art so levelled and firmed as they had been formerly, and his place of burial undistinguishable to common view. The next day after his burial, some unknown friend, some one of the many lovers and admirers of his virtue and learning, writ this epitaph with a coal* on the wall over his grave: Reader! I am to let thee know, For, could the grave his soul comprise, Nor was this all the honour done to his reverend ashes; for, as there be some persons that will not receive a reward for that for which God accounts himself a debtor, persons that dare trust God with their charity, and without a witness; so there was by some grateful unknown friend, that thought Dr. Donne's memory ought to be perpetuated, an hundred marks sent to his two faithful friends and executors,+ towards the making of his monument. It was not for many years known by whom; but, after the death * Charcoal; wood being the ordinary fuel of the period. † Dr. King and Dr. Montford.-Walton. John Montford, D. D., was son of Dr. Thomas Montford, sometime rector of Anstie, and later, of Tewing, in Hertfordshire; prebendary of Westminster, and of Harleston, in the London diocese. He died in 1632, and was buried in the chancel of the parish church of Tewing, where a gravestone marks the resting place of himself and his wife Elizabeth, after a matrimonial union of more than sixty years. He had two sons, John and James, both divines, who suffered severely for their zealous attachment to the church, and loyalty to the king, in the time of the great rebellion. Dr. John Montford held preferment under the bishop of London, and in 1618, was collated to the prebend of Sneating, in the same diocese. In 1640 he appears to have been presented to the rectory of Anstie; but three years later was "cast out of that and other spiritualities, by the Committee of Religion." A stone in the church of Tewing (of which benefice his brother had been deprived by the Committee,) with the following inscription, records the date and place of his earthly repose: Gratia Dei Mons fortis, Johannis Montford, SS. Theol. Profess. (Hoc est) In Medio umbræ Mortis, sub hoc marmore positus. Obiit anno restaurationis, 1651. of Dr. Fox, it was known that it was he that sent it; and he lived to see as lively a representation of his dead friend, as marble can express: a statue indeed, so like Dr. Donne, that-as his friend Sir Henry Wotton hath expressed himself,-It seems to breathe faintly, and posterity shall look upon it as a kind of artificial miracle. He was of stature moderately tall; of a straight and equallyproportioned body, to which all his words and actions gave an unexpressible addition of comeliness. The melancholy and pleasant humour were in him so contempered, that each gave advantage to the other, and made his company one of the delights of mankind. His fancy was inimitably high, equalled only by his great wit; both being made useful by a commanding judgment. His aspect was cheerful, and such as gave a silent testimony of a clear knowing soul, and of a conscience at peace with itself. His melting eye showed that he had a soft heart, full of compassion; of too brave a soul to offer injuries, and too much a Christian not to pardon them in others. He did much contemplate-especially after he entered into his sacred calling-the mercies of Almighty God, the immortality of the soul, and the joys of Heaven: and would often say in a kind of sacred ecstacy,-" Blessed be God that he is God, only and divinely like himself." He was by nature highly passionate, but more apt to reluct at the excesses of it. A great lover of the offices of humanity, and of so merciful a spirit, that he never beheld the miseries of mankind without pity and relief. He was earnest and unwearied in the search of knowledge, with which his vigorous soul is now satisfied, and employed in a continual praise of that God that first breathed it into his active body that body, which once was a temple of the Holy Ghost, and is now become a small quantity of Christian dust: BUT I SHALL SEE IT RE-ANIMATED! VERSES TO THE MEMORY OF DR. JOHN DONNE. AN EPITAPH, WRITTEN BY DOCTOR CORBET,* LATE BISHOP OF OXFORD, ON HIS FRIEND DR. DONNE. HE that would write an epitaph for thee, He must have learning plenty; both the laws, Not of the last edition, but the best. * Dr. Richard Corbet, an eminent divine and poet, born at Ewell, in Surrey, was educated at Westminster, and Christ Church, Oxford. Admitted to Holy orders, he was appointed chaplain in ordinary to king James I.; and in 1630, consecrated, bishop of Oxford; whence, in 1632, he was translated to Norwich. He died in 1635. Aubrey describes him, in his younger days, as one of the most celebrated wits of the University: nor did his lively disposition ever leave him ; for we are told "he loved boys' play to the last." He was much admired for his quaint and eloquent preaching; and commended for his great liberality and munificence, particularly in promoting the repairs of St. Paul's Cathedral. The bishop's letter to his clergy on the latter subject, at once "impressive, whimsical, benevolent, and satirical," has been printed from the Harl. MSS., by Mr. Malcolm. -Lond. Rediviv., v. iii., p. 77. His poems, which are of very great merit, have, in the present century, been ably edited by Mr. Gilchrist. Some verses on the third anniversary of his son's birth, will always be admired; and the following lines unite themselves to the present occasion, by their applicability and truth : Know henceforth that grief's vital part And verses that are studied Mourn for themselves-not for the dead. -Elegy on the death of the Queen. |