FRANKLIN’S GRAVE.
A printer’s sentiment inscribed to the memory of Franklin is worth reproducing:—
Benjamin Franklin, the * of his profession; the type of honesty; the ! of all; and although the ☞ of death put a . to his existence, each § of his life is without a ||.
Dr. Franklin’s parents were buried in one grave in the old Grancey Cemetery, beside Park Street Church, Boston, Mass. He placed a marble monument to their memory, bearing the following inscription:—
Josiah Franklin
and
Abiah, his wife,
Lie here interred.
They lived lovingly together, in wedlock,
Fifty-five years;
And without an estate, or any gainful employment,
By constant labour and honest industry
(With God’s blessing),
Maintained a large family comfortably;
And brought up thirteen children and seven
grand-children
Reputably.
From this instance, reader,
Be encouraged to diligence in thy calling,
And distrust not Providence.
He was a pious and prudent man,
She a discreet and virtuous woman.
Their youngest son,
In filial regard to their memory,
Places this stone.
J. F., Born 1655; Died 1744 ÆT 89.
A. F., Born 1667; Died 1752 ÆT 85.
It is satisfactory to learn that, when the stone became dilapidated, the citizens of Boston replaced it with a granite obelisk.
A notable epitaph was that of George Faulkner, alderman and printer, of Dublin, who died in 1775:—
| Here sleeps George Faulkner, printer, once so dear To humorous Swift, and Chesterfield’s gay peer; So dear to his wronged country and her laws; So dauntless when imprisoned in her cause; No alderman e’er graced a weighter board, No wit e’er joked more freely with a lord. None could with him in anecdotes confer; A perfect annal-book, in Elzevir. Whate’er of glory life’s first sheets presage, Whate’er the splendour of the title-page, Leaf after leaf, though learned lore ensues; Close as thy types and various as thy news; Yet, George, we see that one lot awaits them all, Gigantic folios, or octavos small; One universal finis claims his rank, And every volume closes in a blank. |
In the churchyard of Bury St. Edmunds, Suffolk, is a good specimen of a typographical epitaph, placed in remembrance of a noted printer, who died in the year 1818. It reads as follows:—