[1] Dr. Fuller relates the following anecdote of this divine:--Dr. Reynolds, who held the living of Lavenham, having gone over to the Church of Rome, the Earl of Oxford, the patron, presented Mr. Copinger, but on condition that he should pay no tithes for his park, which comprehended almost half the land in the parish. Mr. Copinger told his lordship, that he would rather return the presentation, than by such a sinful gratitude betray the rights of the church. This answer so affected the earl, that he replied, "I scorn that my estate should swell with church goods." His heir, however, contested the rector's right to the tithes, and it cost Mr. Copinger £1,600. to recover that right, and leave the quiet possession of it to his successors. In the north aisle is a small mural monument, upon which are represented a man and woman, engraved on brass, kneeling before a table, and three sons and daughters behind them. From the mouth of the man proceeds a label, on which are these words:--In manus tuas dne commendo spiritum meum. Underneath is this inscription, which, like that of the label, is in the old English character:-- Contynuall prayse these lynes in brasse, Of Allaine Dister here, A clothier, vertuous while he was In Lavenham many a yeare. For as in lyefe he loved best The poore to clothe and feede, So with the rich and all the rest He neighbourlie agreed; And did appoynte before he dyed, A special yearlie rent, Which should be every Whitsontide Among the poorest spent. _Et obiit Anno Dni_ 1534. Although this benefaction is written in _brass_, the good man's successors have found enough of the same metal to pervert it; for it is now lost, and no person can give any account of it. It needs not brass to outlive honesty; a mere breath will often destroy her. There are, however, several substantial charities belonging to Lavenham, the disposal of which has fallen into better hands. In the churchyard is a very old gravestone, which formerly had a Saxon inscription. Kirby, in his account of the monasteries of Suffolk, says that here, on the tomb of one John Wiles, a bachelor, who died in 1694, is this odd jingling epitaph:-- _Quod fuit esse quod est, quod non fuit esse quod esse_ _Esse quod est non esse, quod est non erit esse._ But as the point and oddity may not be directly evident to all, perhaps some of our readers will furnish us with a pithy translation for our next. _F.R._ of Lavenham, to whom we are indebted for the drawing of Lavenham Church, informs us that this fine building will shortly undergo a thorough repair. * * * * * FIRE TOWERS AND BELFRIES. (_To the Editor of the Mirror._)