ELEGY 71 



sister then first manifested that spiritual endowment 

 which she has had occasion to exercise in so many similar 

 instances, and which has earned for her the enduring love 

 and esteem of her numerous relatives. My brother's 

 remains were interred in a vault my father had built for 

 the purpose, in our parish church of Catherington, and 

 were attended to their last resting-place by his sorrowing 

 relatives and his most intimate companions. 



On the Sunday following, I remember, a most impres- 

 sive discourse was delivered by the parochial minister,^ 

 whose eloquence not only reached the heart of those 

 nearly allied to him, but drew tears from the eyes of the 

 rustic congregation. 



The following lines, written by one present on that 

 solemn occasion, and afterwards sent to my elder sister, 

 will give some idea of the loss we all sustained, and at 

 the same time do credit to the writer's mind and heart as 

 an elegiac production : — 



LINES WRITTEN BY EDWARD BINSTEAD, 



A FRIEND AND COMPANION OF THE LATE , WHO WAS A WITNESS 



TO HIS END, AND AGAINST WHOM INJURIOUS REPORTS HAD BEEN 

 FALSELY CIRCULATED. 



While sad remembrance paints the scene of woe, 



My tortur'd breast its anguish will reveal ; 

 In spite of consolation tears will flow. 



And silent tell the poignant grief I feel. 



Scarce had he to meridian beauty rose, 



When, in a sudden and eventful hour, 

 He sunk eternal to that long repose 



Where mortals all must yield their boastful pow'r. 



1 The Rev. G. G. Griffinhoof. 



