In St. Helen's Church, London, on SIR JULIUS DALMARE CESAR'S Tomb, there is the following curious Inscription in Latin, cut out in court hand. The translation is to the following purport :

To all faithful Christians to whom these presents shall come. Know ye that I Julius Dalmare, alias Cæsar, Knight; Doctor of Laws; Judge of the high Court of Admiralty, and Master of Requests to Queen Elizabeth. Privy Councillor; Chancellor of the Exchequer, and Master of the Rolls to King James, do by these presents declare, that I will cheerfully pay the debt I owe to nature, whenever it shall please God to appoint it. In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and seal, dated 27th February, 1635, &c.

JULIUS CÆSAR, it is enrolled in Heaven.

ON A FEMALE DRUNKARD.

Arrested by death

Lies a female beneath,

Who, when living, ne'er flinch'd from her glass; And at the last day,

The first words she will say

Are, drink my boys! let the toast pass.

Nay, weep not my friend,

Lament not her end,

Soon or late we all come to it must;
Let malice and spleen,

Mourn alone o'er their queen,

For here she lies mould'ring to dust.

To the memory of that ancient servant to the city, with his pen, in divers employments, especially the Survey of London, MASTER ANTHONY MUNDAY, Citizen and Draper of London.

He that hath many an ancient tombstone read,
Th' labour seeming more among the dead
To live, than with the living-that survey'd
Abstruse antiquities, and o'er them laid
Such vive and beauteous colours with his
pen ;.
That, spite of time, those old are new again,
Under this marble lies interr'd; his tomb
Claiming (as worthily it may) this room.
Among those many monuments his quill
Has so revived, helping now to fill

A place (with those) in his survey, in which
He has a monument, more fair, more rich

Than polish'd stones could make him, where he lies,
Though dead, still living, and in that ne'er dies.

ON A GAMESTER.

Here lies the body of All-fours,

Who lost his money, and pawn'd his clothes;
If that you want to know his name,
"Tis Highest, Lowest, Jack, and Game,

UPON JOHN DEATH.

Here lies John Death, the very same
That went away with a cousin of his name.

ST. BOTOLPH, BISHOPSGATE.

On the 10th of August, Anno 1626,
Was interred, without the verge of the consecrated
Burial ground in Petty France,

The body of HADGI SHAUGHSWARE,
A Persian Merchant ;

Whose son, according to the custom of his country,
Daily repaired to his grave,

Divers

For the space of a month,
Where he performed

prayers and ceremonies over the defunct;
But being disturbed by the populace,
Discontinued his funeral devotions,
And erected a Monument to his Memory,
With a Persian Inscription,

ENGLISHED THUS:

This grave is made for Hadgi Shaughsware, the chiefest servant to the King of Persia for the space of twenty years; who came from the King of Persia, and died in his service. If any Persian cometh out of that country, let him read this, and a prayer for him. The Lord receive his soul; for here lieth Hadgi Maghmote Shaughsware, who was born in the town of Novoy, in Persia.

In Barton-Stacy Church-yard, Hants, on MR. JOHN COLLince.

Where 'twas I liv'd or dy'd, it matters not;
To whom related, or by whom begot;

I was, but am not; ask no more of me ;

It's all I am, and all

that

you must be.

M M

On the tomb of SIR THOMAS STANLEY, Knight, second son of Edward, Earl of Derby, which was remaining on the north side of the chancel of the Church of Tong, in the county of Salop, 1693; when Sir William Dugdale made the last visitation of that County, and which Sir William in a marginal note says, was written by William Shakspeare.

Ask who lies here, but do not weep,
He is not dead, he doth but sleep;
This stony register is for his bones,

His fame is more perpetual than these stones.
And his own goodness, with himself being gone,
Shall live when earthly monument is none;
Not monumental stone preserves our fame,
Nor sky aspiring Pyramids our name :
The memory of him, for whom this stands,
Shall outlive marble and defacers' hands:
When all to time's consumption shall be given,
Stanley, for whom this stands, shall stand in Heav'n.

In Peterborough Cathedral, on SIR RICHARD WORME. 1589.

Does worm eat Worme? Knight Worme this truth confirms,

For here, with worms, lies Worme a dish for worms. Does worm eat Worme? sure Worme will this deny, For Worme with worms, a dish for worms don't lie. 'Tis so, and 'tis not so, for free from worms "Tis certain Worme is blest without his worms.

In St. Bartholomew the Great, Smithfield; sacred to the memory of that worthy and learned FRANCIS ANTHONY, Doctor in Physick.

There needs no verse to beautifye thy praise,
Or keep in memory thy spotless name;
Religion, virtue, and thy skill did raise
A threefold pillar to thy lasting fame.

Though poisonous envy ever sought to blame,
Or hide the fruits of thy invention;
Yet shall they all commend that high design,
Of purest gold to make a medicine,*

That feel thy help by that thy rare invention.

He died the 16th of May, 1623, of his age 74.

His loving son John Anthony, Doctor in Physic, left this remembrance of his sorrow. He died the 28th of April, 1655, aged 70 years, and was buried near this place, and left behind him one son and three daughters.

On a SCOLDING WIFE, who died in her sleep.

Here lies the quint-essence of noise and strife,
Or, in one word, here lies a scolding wife;
Had not death took her when her mouth was shut,
He durst not for his ears have touch'd the slut.

He was the Inventor of the Aurum Potabile, a nostrum of great note in the 17th century. ·