'"Well," said Allen, "come into this room." 'A fourth and fifth are discovered. The architect now began to open his eyes with wonder.
'"If we have not money enough—here, come into this bedroom."
'A sixth, a seventh, and lo! an eighth appears. John Wood might well have exclaimed:
'"I'll see no more.
For perhaps, like Banquo's ghosts, you'll show a score."
'Chuckling in his turn at the astonishment of the architect, Allen now inquired if the house could be built.
'"I'll begin the plans immediately," replied Wood. "I see there is money enough to erect even a palace, and I'll build you a palace that shall be the admiration of all beholders."'
But we must hasten to a close; a close to which the next allusion to the building propensities of the generous subject of this memoir naturally leads us. In 1754, Ralph Allen rebuilt the south aisle of Bathampton Church, and 'beautified the whole structure.' Appropriately enough, in that aisle has been placed an oval mural tablet, of white and Sienna marble, to his memory; and his son Philip, who became Comptroller of the 'Bye-letter' department in the London Post Office, was, I believe, actually buried there.
But the remains of Ralph Allen were interred in the neighbouring quiet and lovely little churchyard at Claverton. He was on his way to London, but feeling ill, probably from asthma, a complaint which often troubled him, halted at Maidenhead, and was induced to return thence to Bath, where he expired at a good old age, which the pyramidal monument erected at Claverton to his memory thus records:
'Beneath this monument lieth entombed the body of Ralph Allen, Esq., of Prior Park, who departed this life the 29th day of June, 1764, in the 71st year of his age; in full hopes of everlasting happiness in another state, through the infinite merit and mediation of our blessed Redeemer, Jesus Christ.'
Derrick has thus described Allen's personal appearance shortly before his death: 'He is a very grave, well-looking man, plain in his dress, resembling that of a Quaker, and courteous in his behaviour. I suppose he cannot be much under seventy. His wife is low, with grey hair, and of a very pleasing address.' Kilvert says that he was rather above the middle size, and stoutly built; and that he was not altogether averse to a little state, as he often used to drive into Bath in a coach-and-four. His handwriting was very curious; he evidently wrote quickly and fluently, but it is so overloaded with curls and flourishes as to be sometimes scarcely legible.