Hither came Dr. Gibbons, Watts’ biographer, and, by-and-by, John Gill, the author of the huge commentary, if wild in fancy, still learned in all Rabbinical and Hebrew lore, and John Macgowan, the author of the “Dialogues of Devils;” here rests Dr. Williams, the founder of the well-known library, and donor of the scholarships connected with it, and by this name we are reminded of the great Arians who sleep very quietly here. Here lie Theophilus Lindsay, Abraham Bees, Richard Price, Nathaniel Gardner, and Thomas Belsham, all men of huge scholarship, whatever our estimate of their doctrines; here lies, of another order, the learned John Eames, the friend and fellow-student of Dr. Watts, the friend and correspondent of Sir Isaac Newton, and of whom Watts said that he was the most learned man he ever knew; Thomas Bradbury, Watts’ abusive and disingenuous traducer and adversary, found the quiet he never permitted himself to find when living, either in tranquil or troublesome times; and hither, within the memory of those living, came Matthew Wilks, quaint and witty old preacher of the London Tabernacles, and his fiery-hearted and earnest co-pastor, John Hyatt, and James Upton, John Rippon, and the beloved and beautiful Alexander Waugh and George Burder. The names we have mentioned are great, but a very small instalment from the list of those famous in holiness and scholarship and sanctified genius, to whom Bunhill Fields was the Machpelah of their lives. Indeed, until the opening of the Abney Park Cemetery, a place which derived its name and interest from its association with, and memories of, Dr. Watts, Bunhill Fields was the receptacle of every Nonconformist notability in the neighbourhood of London. It was as natural that those who had attained an eminence in its confession should receive sepulture there, as that the great statesman or poet should repose within the hallowed naves of Westminster. The significance of the spot, and the fact that it received amongst its other treasures all that was mortal of the subject of this memoir, seem to justify this lengthy loitering amongst its tombs.