Now, like an organ, robb'd of pipes and breath, Its keys and stops are useless made by death, Tho' mute and motionless in ruins laid; Yet when re-built by more than mortal aid, This instrument, new voiced, and tuned, shall raise, To God, its builder, hymns of endless praise. We copy the following from a monument in Holy Trinity Church, Hull:-- In memory of GEORGE LAMBERT, late Organist of this Church, which office he held upwards of 40 years, performing its duties with ability and assiduity rarely exceeded, affording delight to the lovers of Sacred Harmony, This Tablet is erected by his Musical and private Friends, aided by the brothers of the Humber and Minerva Lodges of Free Masons of this Town (being a member of the latter Lodge), That they might place on record the high sense they entertained of his personal and professional merit. He died Feb. 19th, 1838, aged 70 years, And his Remains were interred at the Parish Church of St. John in Beverley. Tho' like an Organ now in ruins laid, Its stops disorder'd and its frame decay'd, This instrument ere long new tun'd shall raise To God, its Builder, notes of endless praise. From a churchyard in Wales we obtain the following curious epitaph on an organ blower:-- Under this stone lies MEREDITH MORGAN, Who blew the bellows of our church organ. Tobacco he hated, to smoke most unwilling, Yet never so pleased as when _pipes_ he was filling. No reflection on him for rude speech could be cast, Though he gave our old organ many a blast! No puffer was he, though a capital blower; He could blow double G, and now lies a note lower. Our next epitaph records the death of a fiddler, who appears to have been so much attached to his wife that upon the day of her death he, too, yielded to the grim tyrant. Of this pair, buried in Flixton churchyard, it may be truly said: 'In life united, and in death not parted.' The inscription is as follows:-- To the Memory of JOHN BOOTH, of Flixton, who died 16th March, 1778, aged 43 years; on the same day and within a few hours of the death of his wife HANNAH, who was buried with him in the same grave, leaving seven children behind them. Reader, have patience, for a Moment Stay, Nor grudge the Tribute of a friendly tear, For John, who once made all our Village gay, Has taken up his Clay-cold Lodging here. Suspended now his fiddle lies asleep, That once with Musick us'd to charm the Ear. Not for his Hannah long reserv'd to weep, John yields to Fate with his companion dear.