Tombs of Meyer, Gainsborough, and Zoffany, 511 



The following are the words engraven 

 ou the stone : — 



Thomas G\iNSEOROur,H, esq. 



died An2ust "Z, I7b8. 



Also the body of 



Gainsborough Dupont, esq. 



Who died Jan. V;0, 1797, 



Aged 42 years. 



Also, Mrs. Margaret Gainsborough, 



wife of tlie above 



Thomas Gainsboroiiuh, esq. 



who died Dec. 17, 1798, 

 in the 7'2d year of her age. 

 A littlf to the eastward he tlic remains 

 of another illustrious son of art, the 

 modest ZoFFANY, whose Florence Gal- 

 lery, Portraits of the Royal Family, and 

 Other pictures, will always raise him 

 among: the highest class of painters. 

 He long resided on this Green, and like 

 Michael Angelo, Titian, and our own 

 West, produced master-pieces at four- 

 scoie. The words on the monument are: 

 Sacred to the Memory 



of JOKV ZoFFANY, R.A- 



who died Nov. 11, 1810, 

 aged 87 years. 



It was a vemariLublc coincidence, that 

 the bones of Gainsborough and Zof- 

 FANY should thus, without premedita- 

 tion, have, been laid side by side ; and 

 tJiat, but a few weeks ago, delighted 

 crowds had been daily drawn together 

 to view their principal works, combined 

 •with those of Wilson and Hogarth, 

 to form an attractive metropolitan exhi- 

 bition. On that occasion every English- 

 man felt proud of the native genius of 

 our Gainsborough. It was ably op- 

 posed in one line by a Wilson, ami in 

 another by a ZoffanY; yet the works of 

 tlic untutored Gainsborough and Ho- 

 carth served to prove that every great 

 artist must be born such ; and that su- 

 periority in human works^ is tlic result 

 of original genius, and cannot be pro- 

 duced by any servile routine of edu- 

 cation, however specious, imposing, 

 ^dulous, or costl)'. 



This valley of the Thames is, however, 

 sanctified every where by nlics which 

 «all for equal reverence. Ent a mile 

 distant on my right, in Chiswiik Church- 

 yard, lie the remains of tiic painting mo- 

 ralist Hogarth; who invented a uni- 

 versal character, or species of moral re- 

 velation intelligible to every degree of 

 intellect, in all ages and countries; who 

 opened a path to the kindred genius of a 

 Burnett and a Wilkie; and who 

 conferred a deathless fame on the man- 

 ners, habits, and chief cliaracters of 

 his time. And, but a mile on my 

 Veft, ia Riclunoud Church, lie tiie re- 



mains of Thomson, the poet of nature, 

 of liberty, and of maji — who displayed 

 his genius only for noi)le purposes; who 

 scorned, like the vile herd of modern 

 rhymesters, to ascribe glory to injustice, 

 heroism to the murderers of the cham- 

 pions of liberty, or wisdom to the mis- 

 chievous prejudices of weak princes; 

 and who, by asserting in every line th« 

 moral dignity of his art, became an 

 example of poetical renown, which has 

 since been followed by Glover, Aken- 



SIDE, CoWPER, RORINSON, BURNS, BaR- 



low,Barbauld, WoLcoT, MooRE, and 

 Byron. 



The fast-declining Sun, and my wea>' 

 ried limbs, tell me, however, that I am 

 the slave of nature, and of nature's laws; 

 and that I have neither time nor powef 

 to excurse or go farther. >Iy course, 

 therefore, is neeessaiily terminated on 

 this spot ; and I must here take leave of 

 the reader, who has been patient, or li- 

 beral enough, to accompany me. For my 

 own part, I am bound to state, that I 

 have been highly gratified with the groat 

 volume, ten or twelve miles long, by 

 two or three broad, in the study of 

 which I have cmjiloyed the lengthened 

 morning; but this volume of my brief 

 analysis the reader will doubtless find 

 marked by the imperfections and short- 

 sightedness which must attend every at- 

 tempt of human art to compress an in- 

 finite variely into a finite compass. 



In looking back at the incidents of 

 the day, which the language of custom 

 has, with reference to our repasts, deno- 

 minated the horning, I could not 

 avoid likening the excursion which I 

 have here described to the life of 

 MAN — for, like that, and all things mea- 

 sured by time and space, it has had ii 

 BEGINNING — an cvciitful COURSE— aud 

 an END determined by ])hysical causes. 

 On emerging in the morning from the 

 metropolis, I foresaw as little as the child 

 foresees his future life what were to be 

 the incidents of my iourney. I pro- 

 ceeded in each successive hour even 

 as he proceeds in each year. I jostled 

 no one, and no one disturljed me. 3It 

 feelings were tliosc of j)eace, and 1 

 suffered from no hostility. My inclina- 

 tions were virtuous, and I have expe- 

 rienced the rewards of virtue. Every 

 step has therefore been productive of sa- 

 tisfaction, and I have no-where had 

 cause to look behind me with regret. I 

 have ventured to smilo at folly, I !iav« 

 honestly reprehended bad passions, and 

 I have sincerely sympathized with their 

 vivliui^, May all my readers be led to 

 swUe, 



