At the entrance of the churchyard there is often a lich-gate, i.e. a corpse-gate, where the body may rest while the funeral procession is formed. Lych is the Saxon word for a dead body, from which Lich-field, “the field of dead bodies,” is derived. Bray, in Berkshire, famous for its time-serving vicar, is also famous for its lich-gate, which has two rooms over it.

“God’s acre” is full of holy associations, where sleep “the rude forefathers of the hamlet.” There stands the village cross where the preachers stood in Saxon times and converted the people to Christianity, and there the old sundial on a graceful stone pedestal. Sometimes amid the memorials of the dead stood the parish stocks. Here in olden days fairs were held, and often markets every Sunday and holiday, and minstrels and jugglers thronged; and stringent laws were passed to prevent “improper and prohibited sports within the churchyard, as, for example, wrestling, football, handball under penalty of twopence forfeit.” Here church ales were kept with much festivity, dancing, and merry-making; and here sometimes doles were distributed on the tombstones of parochial benefactors, and even bread and cheese scrambled for, according to the curious bequests of eccentric donors.

And then there are the quaint epitaphs on the gravestones, of which many have made collections. Here is one to the memory of the driver of a coach that ran from Aylesbury to London:—

“Parker, farewell! thy journey now is ended,
Death has the whip-hand, and with dust is blended;
Thy way-bill is examined, and I trust
Thy last account may prove exact and just,
When He who drives the chariot of the day,
Where life is light, whose Word’s the living way,
Where travellers, like yourself, of every age,
And every clime, have taken their last stage,
The God of mercy and the God of love,
Show you the road to Paradise above.”

Here is another to the memory of a once famous Yorkshire actor, buried at Beverley:—

“In memory of Samuel Butler, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. Obt. June 15th, 1812, Aet. 62.”

Here is a strange one from Awliscombe, Devon:—

“Here lie the remains of James Pady, brickmaker, late of this parish, in hopes that his clay will be remoulded in a workmanlike manner, far superior to his former perishable materials.

“Keep death and judgment always in your eye,
Or else the devil off with you will fly,
And in his kiln with brimstone ever fry;
If you neglect the narrow road to seek,
Christ will reject you like a half-burnt brick.”

Those interested in the brave mortals who go down to the sea in ships will like to read the following verses which appear on the tomb of William Harrison, mariner, buried in Hessle Road Cemetery, Hull:—