In memory of
Mrs. Rebekah Hunt, consort of
Lieut. Reuben Hunt, who died
June 28th 1796, aged 49.
Her virtues
social, conjugal, parental, & Christian
commanded respect, rejoiced acquaintance,
sweetened life, consoled in sickness,
made a friend of death, & confirmed
the hope of celestial glory.
This inscription
perpetuates her memory
and invites
imitation
Frail man, give ear!
The dearest joys of earth resign,
Secure those joys which are divine.
What a terrific, distinctive authorial voice this inscription preserves. The eulogistic list of Christian virtues is not unique, but it is eloquent and shows a gift for turning a phrase (“sweetened life”, “made a friend of death”). Note how the author (her husband Reuben, perhaps?) states in no uncertain terms that his intention is both to perpetuate Rebekah’s memory and to invite us to imitate her many practical virtues.
I think the verse is bespoke, too. The message to the passing reader is familiar but again pithily and memorably expressed: Turn away from the fleeting joys of earth (however dear they are to you), and concentrate on securing the joys to come. I concede this may be a stretch, but perhaps whoever composed this was familiar with, and picked a few stray phrases from, Anne Bradstreet’s somewhat didactic poem The Four Ages of Man. In the introduction, representatives of Childhood, Youth, and Manhood are introduced, then joined by a fourth:
And last of all, to act upon this Stage,
Leaning upon his staff, comes up old age.
Under his arm a Sheaf of wheat he bore,
A Harvest of the best: what needs he more?
In’s other hand a glass, ev’n almost run,
This writ about: This out, then I am done.
His hoary hairs and grave aspect made way,
And all gave ear to what he had to say.
These being met, each in his equipage
Intend to speak, according to their age,
But wise Old-age did with all gravity
To childish childhood give precedency,
And to the rest, his reason mildly told:
That he was young, before he grew so old.
To do as he, the rest full soon assents,
Their method was that of the Elements,
That each should tell what of himself he knew,
Both good and bad, but yet no more then’s true.
With heed now stood, three ages of frail man,
To hear the child...
As I said, it is a stretch. Rebekah Hunt died at the age of 49, neither a child nor an old woman. And the phrases “give ear” and “frail man” are not exceptional. This may be pure coincidence, but if this project has taught me one thing it is that the people choosing or composing these epitaphs were drawing upon a lifetime of devotional reading.
