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square of black marble upon which I was walking. After examining the stone, I remembered that Mary de Medicis had desired that her heart should be placed under the pavement of the cathedral of Cologne. Formerly a bronze or brass plate, with an inscription, covered it, but when the French occupied Cologne, some revolutionist, or perhaps a rapacious brazier, seized it, as had been done to many others; for a host of brass nails, projecting from the marble, bespeak depredations of a similar character. Alas, poor Queen! she first saw herself effaced from the heart of Louis XIII., her son, then from the remembrance of Richelieu, her creature, and now she is effaced from the earth."

Monument to GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS :

Gustavus Adolphus, king of Sweden, was killed at the battle of Lutzen. There are four columns raised

over the place where he fell. A frieze, reaching from column to column, bears the following inscription:

(That in front.)

"Here fell Gustavus Adolphus, on the 6th of November, 1632."

(That on the right side.)

"He fought the battle of the Lord." (Altered from the 1 Sam., xxv, 28.)

(On the hinder side.)

"God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but the spirit of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." (On the left side.)

"This is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith."-1 John, v, 4.

The whole structure has a pleasing, and indeed, an imposing effect. It has been raised by subscription throughout Germany, as well as by a liberal pecuniary contribution from the king of Saxony, and the town of Lutzen.

On CHARLES I. :

"So falls that stately cedar; while it stood That was the only glory of the wood;

Great Charles, thou earthly god, celestial man,
Whose life, like others, though it were a span,
Yet in that span, was comprehended more
Than earth hath waters, or the ocean shore;
Thy heavenly virtues, angels shall rehearse,
It is a theme too high for human verse:

He that would know thee right, then let him look
Upon thy rare-incomparable book,

And read it o'er; which if he do,

He'll find thee King, and Priest, and Prophet too;
And sadly see our loss, and, though in vain,
With fruitless wishes call thee back again.
Nor shall oblivion sit upon thy hearse,

Though there were neither monument nor verse.
Thy suff'rings and thy death let no man name;
It was thy glory, but the kingdom's shame."

For CHARLES II. (By the Earl of Rochester.)
"Here lies our sovereign lord the King,
Whose word no man relies on,

Who never said a foolish thing,
And never did a wise one."*

In the South-east corner of Hammersmith church, near the pulpit, is a monument of black and white marble, eight feet in height, and two in breadth, erected by Sir Nicholas Crispe, in honour of his beloved and unfortunate master, KING CHARLES I., whose bust stands above. Immediately beneath the bust is this inscription :

"This effigy was

erected by the special appointment of
Sir Nicholas Crispe, knight and baronet,
as a grateful commemoration of that
glorious martyr, KING CHARLES
the first, of blessed

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For this epitaph Rochester remained some time in disgrace.

Beneath the inscription is an urn: it was placed there by his direction, to remain for ever in humble testimony of that devotion of which it was so long the centre it contains the old man's heart. "Lay my body," he said, "lay my body in the family vault of St. Mildred, in Bread-street, but let my heart be placed in an urn at my master's feet." The inscription on the pedestal that supports the urn is simple, and runs thus:

*

"Within this urn is entombed the heart of Sir Nicholas Crispe, knight and baronet, a loyal sharer in the sufferings of his late and present Majesty. He first settled in the trade of gold from Guinea, and there built the castle of Cormantine. Died the 26th of February, 1665, aged sixty-seven years."

In the parish church of Landulph, in the eastern extremity of Cornwall, is a small brass tablet fixed against the wall, with the following inscription :

He was the founder of Brandenburgh house, and born in 1598: brought up in trade, he increased his wealth by marriage, and being noticed at Court he was knighted, and became one of the farmers of the King's Customs. The times grew stormy; Charles the I., whom Sir Nicholas loved with an affection more than loyal, seeing the troubles of the state, and the distress of his royal master for money, raised him, upon a short notice, the sum of £200,000.

The Parliamentary war commencing, and calamities increasing by sea and land, the brave merchant's cool head and high character, managed a trade which produced his majesty nearly £100,000 a year, besides keeping his ships ready for service.

No brief summary can suffice to represent fairly his princely dignity of character, and his devotion to the cause of the King.

He was trusted with the supplies of arms, and with a knowledge of the most important secrets of the state. In the disguise of a seller of fish, or butter, he frequented the markets to pick up stray intelligence. Failing in one of his designs he boldly threw off the civic gown and assumed the sword at the head of a regiment of horse, raised at his own expense, and became as distinguished a soldier as he had been a merchant; and with the rarest bravery, bore himself through the terrible scenes of the civil war. The Parliament, incensed by his vigorous resistance, and devotion to the King, ordered him from the royal presence; they sold his house in Bond-street, and made him contribute, in conjunction with Lord Culpepper, £6000 a year towards the pension of the Elector Palatine.

The King's cause became hopeless, and Sir Nicholas fled from the country. When in exile, his private misfortunes were turned to public benefits, for he investigated foreign improvements, and turned them to English uses. On his return he again plunged into traffic, and gold poured like water into the channels of his trade.

He improved the art of paper-making, powder-making, and brickmaking; gave £700 towards the building of Hammersmith church, besides beautifying the building at his own expense, and his charities to the poor were equal to his bounties in other directions."

"Here lyeth the body of THEODORE PALEOLOGUS, of Pesaro, in Italye, descended from the Imperial lyne of the last Christian Emperor of Greece, being the sonne of Camilio, the sonne of Prosper, the sonne of Theodoro, the sonne of John, the sonne of Thomas; second brother of Constantine Paleologus, the eighth of the name, and last of that lyne that rayned in Constantinople until subdued by the Turks; who married with Mary, the daughter of William Balls, of Hadlye, in Souffolke, gent, and had issue 5 children-Theodoro, John, Ferdinando, Maria, and Dorothy; and departed this life at Clyfton, the 21st of January, 1636."

Above the inscription are the imperial arms proper of the empire of Greece-an eagle displayed with two heads, the two legs resting upon two gates; the imperial crown over the whole; and between the gates a crescent for difference as second son.-The Book of Table Talk.

On the Tomb of JAMES II :

In his last moments he wished that his heart should be carried to the monks of the Visitation de Chaillot, that his body should be buried in the parish church, without any other ceremony than would be used for a private gentleman; and wished that there should be no inscription on his tomb but these four words-" Hic jacet Jacobus II." He had this so much at heart that he often mentioned it, and he charged the curè of Saint Germain to ask it, in his behalf, of the king of France. But Louis XIV., judged it more fitting that his body should be carried to Paris, and placed in the church of the English Benedictines; which was accordingly done, and the following inscription was afterwards engraven on his tomb ::

"C'est ici que Jaques second,

Sans ministres et sans maîtresse,
Le matin allait â la messe,
Et le soir allait au sermon."

From various sources.

On KING WILLIAM III., of Glorious Memory, who died March 8, 1701. (By Dr. Isaac Watts.)

"Beneath these honours of a tomb
Greatness in humble ruin lies:
(How earth confines in narrow room
What heroes leave beneath the skies!)
Preserve, O venerable Pile,

Inviolate thy sacred trust,
To thy cold arms thy British Isle,
Weeping, commits her richest dust.

Ye gentlest ministers of Fate,
Attend the monarch as he lies,
And bid the softest Slumbers wait
With silken cords to bind his eyes.

Rest his dear Sword beneath his head:

Round him his faithful Arms shall stand;

Fix his bright Ensign on his bed,

The guards and honours of our land.

Ye sister Arts of Paint and Verse
Place Albion fainting by his side;
Her groans arising o'er the hearse,
And Belgia sinking when he died.

High o'er the grave Religion set
In solid gold; pronounce the ground
Sacred to bar unhallow'd feet,

And plant her guardian Virtues round.

Fair Liberty, in sables dress'd,

Write his lov'd name upon his urn,
'WILLIAM,-the scourge of tyrants past,
And awe of princes yet unborn.'

Sweet Peace, his sacred relics keep,

With olives blooming round his head,
And stretch her wings across the deep
To bless the nations with the shade.

Stand on the pile, immortal Fame,
Broad stars adorn the brightest robe,
Thy thousand voices sound his name
In silver accents round the globe.

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