Under this marble are depos'd Poor Preston's sad remains. Alas! too true for light-rob'd jest To sing in playful strains. Ye dread possessors of the grave, Who feed on others' woe, Abstain from Richard's small remains, And grateful pity shew; For many a weighty corpse he gave To you with liberal hand; Then sure his little body may Some small respect command. The gravestone bears the date of 1765. Further examples might be included, but we have given sufficient to show the varied and curious epitaphs placed to the memory of parish clerks and sextons. TYPOGRAPHICAL EPITAPHS. The trade of printer is rich in technical terms available for the writer of epitaphs, as will be seen in the following examples. Our first inscription is from St. Margaret's Church, Westminster, placed in remembrance of England's benefactor, the first English printer:-- To the memory of WILLIAM CAXTON, who first introduced into Great Britain the Art of Printing; And who, A.D. 1477 or earlier, exercised that art in the Abbey of Westminster. This Tablet, In remembrance of one to whom the literature of this country is so largely indebted, was raised, anno Domini MDCCCXX., by the Roxburghe Club, Earl Spencer, K.G., President. The next is in memory of one Edward Jones, _ob._ 1705-6, _æt._ 53. He was the "Gazette" Printer of the Savoy, and the following epitaph was appended to an elegy, entitled, "The Mercury Hawkers in Mourning," and published on the occasion of his death:-- Here lies a Printer, famous in his time, Whose life by lingering sickness did decline. He lived in credit, and in peace he died, And often had the chance of Fortune tried. Whose smiles by various methods did promote Him to the favour of the Senate's vote; And so became, by National consent, The only Printer of the Parliament. Thus by degrees, so prosp'rous was his fate, He left his heirs a very good estate. Another is on a noted printer and bookseller in his day, Jacob Tonson, who died in 1735:-- The volume of his life being finished, here is the end of Jacob Tonson. Weep, authors, and break your pens; your Tonson, effaced from the book, is no more; but print the last inscription on this last page of death, for fear that, delivered to the press of the grave, he, the Editor, should want a title. Here lies a bookseller, the leaf of his life being finished, awaiting a new edition, augmented and corrected. The celebrated Dr. Benjamin Franklin imitated the above, and designed it for himself:--