who was born without arms or hands, at Quantox Head, County of Somerset, 25th of October, 1784, died at Liverpool, 2nd October, 1850. Few have passed through the vale of life so much the child of hapless fortune as the deceased: and yet possessor of mental endowments of no ordinary kind. Gifted with singular talents as an Artist, thousands have been gratified with the able productions of her pencil! whilst versatile conversation and agreeable manners elicited the admiration of all. This tribute to one so universally admired is paid by those who were best acquainted with the character it so briefly portrays. Do any inquire otherwise—the answer is supplied in the solemn admonition of the Apostle—
| Now no longer the subject of tears, Her conflict and trials are o’er In the presence of God she appears ***** |
Our correspondent, Mrs. Charlotte Jobling, from whom we received the above, says: “The remainder is buried. It stands against the wall, and does not appear to now mark the grave of Miss Biffin.” Mr. Henry Morley, in his “Memoirs of Bartholomew Fair,” writing about the fair of 1799, mentions Miss Biffin. “She was found,” says Mr. Morley, “in the Fair, and assisted by the Earl of Morton, who sat for his likeness to her, always taking the unfinished picture away with him when he left, that he might prove it to be all the work of her own shoulder. When it was done he laid it before George III., in the year 1808; he obtained the King’s favour for Miss Biffin; and caused her to receive, at his own expense, further instruction in her art from Mr. Craig. For the last twelve years of his life he maintained a correspondence with her; and, after having enjoyed favour from two King Georges, she received from William IV. a small pension, with which, at the Earl’s request, she retired from a life among caravans. But fourteen years later, having been married in the interval, she found it necessary to resume, as Mrs. Wright, late Miss Biffin, her business as a skilful miniature painter, in one or two of our chief provincial towns.”
The following on Butler, the author of “Hudibras,” merits a place in our pages. The first inscription is from St. Paul’s, Covent Garden:—
Butler, the celebrated author of “Hudibras,” was buried in this church. Some of the inhabitants, understanding that so famous a man was there buried, and regretting that neither stone nor inscription recorded the event, raised a subscription for the purpose of erecting something to his memory. Accordingly, an elegant tablet has been put up in the portico of the church, bearing a medallion of that great man, which was taken from his monument in Westminster Abbey.
The following lines were contributed by Mr. O’Brien, and are engraved beneath the medallion:—
| A few plain men, to pomp and pride unknown, O’er a poor bard have rais’d this humble stone, Whose wants alone his genius could surpass, Victim of zeal! the matchless “Hudibras.” What, tho’ fair freedom suffer’d in his page, Reader, forgive the author—for the age. How few, alas! disdain to cringe and cant, When ’tis the mode to play the sycophant, But oh! let all be taught, from Butler’s fate, Who hope to make their fortunes by the great; That wit and pride are always dangerous things, And little faith is due to courts or kings. |
The erection of the above monument was the occasion of this very good epigram by Mr. S. Wesley:—
| Whilst Butler (needy wretch!) was yet alive, No gen’rous patron would a dinner give; See him, when starv’d to death, and turn’d to dust, Presented with a monumental bust! The poet’s fate is here in emblem shown, He ask’d for bread, and he received a stone. |
It is worth remarking that the poet was starving, while his prince, Charles II., always carried a “Hudibras” in his pocket.