He was shot by Geo. England, one of the Sailors employ’d in the Coast -blockade service in open day on the 13th March 1821 and almost instantly expir’d, in the twenty ninth Year of his age leaving a Widow and five small children to lament his loss. The third immortal is Edward Alldridge, “who was Maliciously shot, April 23rd, 1806. Aged 41 years.” It is curious that his son Edward was, according to the same stone, “accidentally shot, May 13th, 1810. Aged 15 years.” [Illustration: ALL SAINTS’.] There is little time in this age for brooding over historical celebrities or notorieties, but if Hastings dwelt much upon the past, it could find little pleasure in the recollection that it was the birthplace of Titus Oates, whose baptism is registered in 1619, in the books of All Saints’, of which his father was afterwards rector. Titus was himself curate here. Much, indeed, might be written of the clergy of All Saints’, but not a large proportion of it to their credit. I do not know if we may fairly include him who was hanged at Tyburn in 1586 for the crime of forging his presentation to the living. He was not properly rector. As he had to be hanged in any case, it seems a pity they did not suspend him from the tower of All Saints’; it would have been much more picturesque. He was practically wasted at Tyburn, where executions were an everyday dish. Then there was the Reverend Mr. Hinson, royalist, who, busily denouncing the Roundheads in his sermon of Sunday, July 9th, 1643, was told that the subjects of his abuse were in the town, and the stern Colonel Morley even then on the way to make him prisoner. He left his discourse at a loose end and bunked, hooked it, vamoosed, cut his stick, fled, or merely went—just as you please. Only, perhaps, to say he “went” hardly meets the case, for he departed with such celerity that he had not time even to shift his surplice. The Roundheads thereupon occupied the church, made it a dormitory, preached burlesque sermons from the pulpit, and generally behaved like blasphemous blackguards, finally making off with all the surplices they could find. Mr. Hinson was arrested three days later and lodged in a filthy gaol, with a tinker to match, who was not only dirty but rude, and, declaring he was the elder of the two, and therefore privileged, took the one bench in the place, leaving the curate the cold, cold floor. He had three weeks’ imprisonment at Hastings, and how much beside would have been awarded him in London, whither he was removed, we do not know, for he escaped and joined his King at Oxford, and so is heard of no more.