The British Press; or, Morning Literary Advertiser.
London, England, 1818-09-26 00:00:00

SMOLLETT'S TOMB.

Situated on the blinks of the Arno, between
Leghorn and Pisa, in the moot romantic spot that
even the vivid imagination of an Italian could select,
rises the tomb of our countryman Smollett, the
author of Roderick Readout, &c. It is of a plain
octagonal form, about 30 feet iu height, and 6 feet
in diameter at the base, which forms an apartment
to which there are three doors. The English who
visit it from the 'sort of Leghorn, have erected a
plain marble table, surrounded wish stone seals
within; and scarcely a vessel arrives but the officer*
and crews pay • visit to Stnollett's tomb. It is
worthy of remark (as noticed in a former paper),
that the tomb is coveted with laurel, so that hardly
one stone can be seen, and it is even bound up to
clear the entrance at the doors. The laurel grows
wild in all parts of Tuscany, and the 'tonnage of
friends has planted many a slip on the tomb of de-
parted genius. Four marble rlabs are placed in-
side, with inscriptions its the Italian. Latin, Greek.
and English languages. The Italian runs thus
&more ! respect the mum of Tomas SitomAre,
Au Englishman,
A sus of letters, and playful gashes,
He died contented in Tuscany,
His soul relights year prayers. J. B.
LATIN.
He kaew every thing—he loved every sae.
Familiar with put sad format ages.
His works merit s place by the side of Boccaccio.
Pray for his soot!
warm.
Here Swollen rests, a eitisew of the world,
A Xempboa sad as Hippocrates,
A Terence awl a Somseeio.
Übe had a Native emassry, it ass this;
For here he chime to die t
I was his friend!
J. PA ILION ETTA.

THE ENGLISH INSCRIPTION.
Pafria earn eerier MMus."
The great Historian of his day,
Who rivalled all bat Hume below,
Mon tread'st upon his lowly clay ;
Then kt thy tears of rapture Bo►.
The first of Novelists lie shone,
The first of Moralists was he,
Who Nature's pencil waved alone,
And painted wan as he abuuld be.
Humberto's. rata iu life's iray prime
Cherished this blossom of the DUI I h,
Italia's sweet sad rammed clime
Eusluines in death the man of worth.
J. B. H.

A poet of Italy has said pleasantly that he cared
not where his bones were laid, so that they were
not molested by having bad verses inscribed ou the
spot where they lay. If poor Sitio!lett had the
same feelings, how dreadfully unquiet must he be
under the weight of such execrable epitaphs as
are above quoted. The first three are translations
of the Italian, Latin, and Greek inscriptions;
the fourth is original English, and luckily defies
traoslation into any other tongue. Besides the
wretched versification, the two first contain what
is frequently very necessary in an epitaph, hut what
certainly cannot recommend it to those who knew
the subject of it. They contain each au untruth :
Smollett did not die contented in Tuscany, but with
the utmost regret. Sinollett Jul not love every Ludy,
but was almost as great a hater of his fellow-crea-
tures as Swift himself. The Greek appears to have
been written by some not very " learned Thebsii"
or Brewton, if we may judge by the inconsequence
of his reasoning. The fourth has the merit, and
that alone, of a suctraui attempt to crowd into 1•l
lines as much oomoras.e attil bad verse as the space
would admit.