In the chancel is a mural monument of good sculpture to John Kempe, Esq., who died 5th Oct., 1652, erected by Henry Bromfield, Esq., his kinsman. Mr. Kempe was a member for the borough of Lymington, in the fifteenth of Charles I. His bust, in alabaster, represents him in the dress of a cavalier, with sword belt, holding a book in his hand. The Latin epitaph is very long and laudatory. Arms-gules, three garbs, with a bordure engrailed or. There are plain marble tablets for several of the Bromfield family, who long resided at Harwood house, near the church; and at the western end of the nave are several inscriptions for the family of Budder, who possessed an estate called Warbourn, in this parish. It was purchased by the late Lt.-Gen. Cleaveland, to whose memory there is a tablet, recording that he passed sixty years in the service of his king and country.

The list of vicars is complete from the year 1535. No name of note occurs among them, except, perhaps, Thomas Jenner, in 1724, who was president of Magdalene College, Oxford, and Margaret Professor of Divinity, till William Gilpin, in 1778, and of him an extended notice is due, as having been the regenerator of the parish.

It appears that he was of an ancient family in Cumberland; and among his ancestors he counted the amiable reformer Bernard Gilpin, whose life he wrote. We incidentally learn, in one of his tours, that he himself was born at Scaleby Castle, about 1724. Of his youth we possess no record; but we find him, after being at Queen's College, Oxford, in middle life fulfilling the office of Master of Cheam School, whence he retired, with a moderate competency, to the vicarage of Boldre. The patron who presented it to him, in 1778, was an accomplished scholar of his, the late Colonel Mitford, the Greek historian. Living not far apart, a friendly intercourse on matters of literature and taste was maintained through their lives. Thinking alike, as it is said, on the principles of the picturesque in scenery, the grounds of Exbury House are described as an exemplification of what Gilpin had so deeply studied, and with a love for which he had, probably, imbued his quondam pupil. In his own family there was, we collect, a natural bias towards the fine arts, as his brother, Sawrey Gilpin, became a professed artist, and was eminent as a painter of animals. William used the pencil in a slight way, and in a style exclusively his own. He well described his own productions as " roughly finished, and pretending only to exhibit a little composition and effect;" as "a quick method of conveying picturesque ideas;" as "useful in pointing out the form and component parts of a landscape, marking where the light may fall to most advantage." Those who have only seen the aquatinta imitations of them in his published tours, can have but a slight idea of the vigour and spirit of the originals; but their VOL. IV.-Nov. 1833.

3 T

merits are sui generis, and it is unwise to make greater claims for them than the intention warranted. They reached all he aimed at, and cannot be held up as finished works of art. Though they were extremely popular, and sold well when he disposed of them for the purpose of founding a charity school, admiration of the man and the author, mingled with approbation of the draughtsman, and contributed a great share to their success.

Four of his picturesque tours were made previously to his coming to Boldre,-namely, those through the eastern countieson the Wye-by the lakes-and in the Highlands. Another over the western parts of the kingdom was suggested by his neighbourhood to that quarter; while his two fascinating volumes, entitled "Remarks on Forest Scenery," were the result of his daily walks-moral, natural, and pictorial information, which presented itself spontaneously to him at every turn, when he strolled about his wide spread parish for the purposes of duty, health, or relaxation.

But as connected with Boldre, the most important light in which we can view him is as its clergyman. For thirty years he occupied its pleasant vicarage, which is more than a mile from the church, and beautifully situated on a woody slope, and commanding between the intersections of opposite eminences a fine view of the sea and the Isle of Wight,-a residence fitly bestowed on one of so much natural and cultivated taste, but who allowed not the pursuits of the imagination to interfere with those of a higher and holier avocation. As a proof of it, he acquired the love and veneration of the lowest of his parishioners. No simple pastor nearer on a level in mind with themselves could have won more genuine attachment than this man of highly informed and delicate intellect. He came, finding the parish inhabited by a wild, ignorant, unruly horde; and, by his mild control, his unwearied instruction, and his fatherly persuasion, he left it a model for the neighbourhood. In his last publication, prefatory to the second sale of his drawings for the benefit of his little endowment, he thus speaks of the place:-"Forests afford so much plunder of different kinds, especially in deer stealing, lopping timber, and poaching, that the neighbouring parishes are much tainted with idleness, dissipation, and dishonesty. As the parish of Boldre, which lies altogether in New Forest, is far from being a scene of the most exact regularity, I thought I could not be of more service to it than by founding a little parish school, in which the chief stress should be laid on inculcating religious principles." He accordingly built a school-house, and endowed it for ever out of the profits of his mere hours of amusement, so as to educate and clothe twenty boys and twenty girls; an institution of incalculable benefit in such an irregular tract of country. He was the mainspring, too, in establishing a workhouse at

Boldre, on an improved plan, too extensive to be here detailed; but he published an account of it, and there is a short report of its management among those of the "Society for bettering the condition of the Poor."

His preaching was very effective. What the matter of his sermons consisted of may be seen in the volumes given to the world; but as to the delivery of them, the present writer, though never having heard him, has been uniformly told by those who had, that the gravity, the warmth, the persuasiveness with which his discourses were uttered, would never be forgotten by them. Of his success in reforming the evil habits of individuals, and in leading them to religion, many anecdotes were formerly current, as well as of his excellent methods of training up others in virtuous habits. What some of his flock were under his discipline may be seen in the "Life of William Baker," which he published; but, of course, he ascribed less in it to his own personal exertions than others would have assigned him. He took a kind interest in the concerns of all around him; and his good sense made his piety greatly more available to their welfare, than if he had been the merely well intentioned enthusiast. Warner has well instanced one point of his usefulness in writing some simple but striking epitaphs for a few of those he buried. Were it more generally the custom for the clergy to prepare these records, "without partiality and without hypocrisy," and were the laity more willing to entrust them to such parties, we should see our church-yards better furnished with lessons for the "rustic moralist." Mr. Gilpin's own tomb has an inscription of a plain reflective character, evidently meant for the perusal of the humble congregation who linger about a country burying ground. It was probably written in his old age, and though it is touching, it hardly seems quite so happy as some he wrote for others.

"In a quiet mansion, beneath this stone, secured from the afflictions, and still more dangerous enjoyments of life, lie the remains of William Gilpin, some time vicar of this parish; together with the remains of Margaret, his wife. After living above fifty years in happy union, they hope to be raised in God's due time (through the atonement of a blessed Redeemer for their repented transgressions) to a state of joyful immortality. Here it will be a new joy to see several of their good neighbours, who now lie scattered in these sacred precincts around them. He died April 5th, 1804, aged 80. She died July 14th, 1807, at the age of 82."

One of the largest sized small-leaved maples I have ever seen over-hangs the good man's place of rest; not inappropriately, when we remember how much he loved "the greenwood shade," and what an intimate acquaintance he formed with every tree remarkable for its age, size, beauty of outline, or luxuriance of

foliage, which grew within his sylvan circuit. His mind is reflected in his various writings; and if curiosity be awakened to know how benevolent was his countenance, it may be gratified by an excellent likeness in the mezzotinto print by Clint, from a painting by Walton, in the possession of Sir Harry Neale, Bart., one of his few surviving friends.

V. (1.) Swete Jesu I yeelde to thee thankinges and graces for alle the steppis & paces that thou yedist toward thin owne peyne. & thin owne deeth. I biseche thee swete Jesu that thou rule alle my goingis & alle the affecciouns of my herte. Swete Jesu I thanke thee for alle the schames anguischis & felonyes that thou suffridist beforen Annas & Caifas Pilat & Eroud. & nameli I thanke thee swete Jesu for the merciful lokinge that thou turnynge ayen* biheld upon Seint Petir thi disciple that forsook thee. & yit in myche anguische thou schewidist thi love openli to him. so that neither schame ne pene myn drawe thin herte fro him. Now Swete Jesu turne thi iye of merci toward us synful. so that thoru thi merci & grace. we maun repent of owre trespas & mys dedis with Seint Petir.

(2.) Swete Jesu I thanke thee for that meke & stille standinge aforen Pilat. & alle the false accusaciouns of the Jewis. Now here Swete Jesu, I biseche thee graunte me grace feithfully to have mynde in ech temptacioun, that I stonde bifore thee my domis man. & graunte me grace to suffre pacientli accusaciouns, snybbingist & yvel wordis of foos for thy love. & graunte me to knowleche ech man for bete than me. & to meke me ever & holde me lowe. & Swete Jesu whanne I schal be demed, have merci on me. & lete thi meekness, & that doom that thon unskilfulli suffridist excuse me fro that doom that I skilfulli schulde have.-Pat'. N'.

VI. (1.) Swete Jesu I yelde thee thankingis for al that schame &

So ayene, G. 30, 2, 2, (but ageine is common, and ageyne, G. 110, 1, 2.) Ayenst, G. Prol. de Statu Cleri, 10, (but against, 32, 2, 2.) Ayeneward, G. 46, 1, 1, and 47, 2, 2; foryete (as a rhyme to gete), G. 190, 1, 2; and for forgotten, 38, 2, 1; forgifte for forgiveness, G. 190, 1, 2. Yevith not his yeftis, G. 45, 2, 2; yift, Wycl. Compl. p. 3, and in these prayers often; and in Spencer Sheph. Cal. May, 224, and F. Q. V. x. 37. I find yate for gate in Piers Plowman, which is not uncommon in Yorkshire now. Just below, vi. 3, we have yedist for thou wentest, a word connected with go, as we have gedist elsewhere. In many of these cases, perhaps, the transcriber has erred, as I have observed that some very modern editors have done, by mistaking the old form of g and y. German scholars now are aware

how the g is softened into a liquid sound; and this accounts for the change.

+ So Chaucer, Pars. Prol. 525-" Him woulden he snibb sharpely." See too C. C 11,000. Spens. Sheph. Cal. Feb. 126.

anguish that thou suffridist whanne thei spitten in thi face, in that swete myrro (? myrrour) & bodili blis of hevene, upon which aungels & seintis have demte* (? desire) to loke. Now Swete Jesu yeve me grace to have most demte inwardli to loke & thenke upon that blessed face. & swete Jesu restore the liknes of thi face in my soule that foule synnes hav fadid & leve lord+ lete me never have likinge in

This is the nearest approach which can be made to the text with common letters. The d and e are joined. It is not quite clear that the third letter may not be two joined, as n and i, or u and i.