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6. Yes, yes,

only put me quite at ease in his presence, a bachelor. I told him I was too poor & but made me repeatedly forget that re man to marry.

" Aha!” he cried, “I spectful attention with which it was my now see-want of money-no moneyduty, as well as my wish on every ac yes, yes !” and laughed heartily; in count, to treat the fallen monarch. The which I joined, of course, though, to say interest he took in topics which were the truth, I did not altogether see the huthen uppermost in my thoughts, was morous point of the joke. a natural source of fresh animation in my The last question he put related to the own case ; and I was thrown off my size and force of the vessel I commanded, guard more than once, and unconsciously and then he said, in a tone of authority, addressed him with an unwarrantable de. as if he had some influence in the matter, gree of freedom. When, however, I per. “ You will reach England in thirty-five ceived my error, and of course checked days,”-a prophecy, by the by, which myself, he good-humouredly encouraged failed miserably in the accomplishment, me to go on in the same strain, in a man as we took sixty-two days, and were ner so sincere and altogether so kindly, nearly starved into the bargain. After that I was in the next instant as much at this remark he paused for about a quarter my ease as before.

of a minute, and then making me a slight « What do these Loo-Choo friends of inclination of his head, wished me a good yours know of other countries ?” he asked. voyage, and stepping back a couple of I told him they were acquainted only paces, allowed me to retire. with China and Japan.

My friends, Mr. Clifford and Mr. Harcontinued he; “ but of Europe ? What vey, were now presented to him. He put do they know of us?" I replied, " They some civil common-place questions, and know nothing of Europe at all; they after an audience of a few minutes, disknow nothing about France or England; missed them. neither," I added, “ have they ever heard Bonaparte struck me as differing conof your majesty.” Bonaparte laughed siderably from the pictures and busts I heartily at this extraordinary particular had seen of him. His face and figure in the history of Loo-Choo, a circum- looked much broader and more square, stance, he may well have thought, which larger, indeed, in every way, than any redistinguished it from every other corner presentation I had met with His cora of the known world.

pulency, at this time universally reported I held in my hand a drawing of Sul. to be excessive, was by no means remark. phur Island, a solitary and desolate rock able. His flesh looked, on the contrary, in the midst of the Japan Sea. He looked firm and muscular. There was not the at it for a moment, and cried out, “Why, least trace of colour in his cheeks ; in this is St. Helena itself.” When he had fact, his skin was more like marble than satisfied himself about our voyage, or at ordinary flesh. Not the smallest trace of least had extracted every thing I could a wrinkle was discernible on his brow, nor tell him about it, he returned to the sub an approach to a furrow on any part of ject which had first occupied him, and his countenance. His health and spirits, said in an abrupt way, “ Is your father judging from appearances, were excellent; an Edinburgh reviewer ?” I answered, though at this period it was generally bethat the names of the authors of that lieved in England, that he was fast sinkwork were kept secret, but that some of ing under a complication of diseases, and my father's works had been criticised in that his spirits were entirely gone. His the journal alluded to. Upon which he manner of speaking was rather slow than turned half round on his heel towards otherwise, and perfectly distinct: he Bertrand, and nodding several times, said, waited with great patience and kindness with a significant smile, “ Ha! ha!” as for my answers to his questions, and a reif to imply his perfect knowledge of the ference to Count Bertrand was necessary distinction between author and critic. only once during the whole conversation.

Bonaparte then said, “ Are you mar. The brilliant and sometimes dazzling exried ?” and upon my replying in the ne pression of his eye could not be overgative, continued, Why not? What looked. It was not, however, a permanent is the reason you don't marry

lustre, for it was only remarkable when somewhat at a loss for a good answer, and he was excited by some point of particu. remained silent. He repeated his ques

lar interest. It is impossible to imagine tion, however, in such a way, that I was an expression of more entire mildness, I forced to say something, and told him I may almost call it of benignity and kind. had been too busy all my life ; besides liness, than that which played over his which, I was not in circumstances to features during the whole interview. If, marry. He did not seem to understand therefore, he were at this time out of me, and again wished to know why I was health and in low spirits, his power of self

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command must have been more extraor. was always greater when the wind blew dinary than is generally supposed; for with more force; and that without any rela. his whole deportment, his conversation, tion to the intenseness of the cold, which and the expression of his countenance, often varied. during the time of the trial indicated a frame in perfect health and a of these experiments.' mind at ease.

Being desirous of satisfying myself in

a more particular manner, I placed seveTHE MAY-MORN OF LIFE.

ral vessels containing two ounces of water.

each, in a room without fire, facing the 'Tis sweet when the night-star of Venus is east, and the window being left open the shining,

wind, then at north, could but indirectly To list to the ocean waves, roaring afar;

The result of these Or, chance, on affection's fond bosom reclining, penetrate into it. Recount the past pleasures of glory and war.

experiments was, that the water in the Yet there is a time when each pleasure seems

room suffered no diminution in weight, sweeter,

whilst several vessels containing the same Unheedful of grandeur, with happiness rife ; quantity of water exposed to the frost in, When the bright hours of joy pass on fairer and the open air, lost twelve grains in less fleeter,

than half a day, the wind then blowing Unclouded, uncheck'd– 'tis « the May-morn strong from the north. Continuing to of life.”

try the experiment for several days, I Grant manhood whate 'er it can boast, strength, weighed the vessels twice a day, and found pride, beauty,

that in proportion to the force of the wind, Its friendships, its honours, its glories, its the water lost its weight, varying from hopes;

four grains to twelve grains in the half Ripe judgment, that points to the path, of our day, and that it did not lose the least duty,

particle in the most intense cold if the And firmness, that still with adversity copes ;

air be quite calm. But oh! there's a time, tho' it boast not the

Trying another experiment, I filled tieasures Of manhood, the parent, the child, or the half an inch of the brim, the water be

with water two cylindrical pots, within wife, More calm and more fertile with earth's purest ing eleven ounces in weight ; having pleasures,

covered one pot, I placed them on a crossUnclouded and fair—'tis « the May-morn of bar-window facing the north, the ther-, life.

mometer was then at (0), and remained Give age too its dear-bought experience, fearless

so during five days; I carefully weighed Of aught that enslaves, that enshackles the

them each day, and found that the one soul;

covered had suffered no diminution in Give all that it deems so peculiar, so peerless

weight, while the one uncovered lost on But take not from youth the full, myrtle the first day eighteen grains, the second crown'd bowl!

twenty-eight, the third twenty, the fourth For oh! there's a season unconscious of sorrow, twelve, and the fifth ten grains, making

Unhurt by despair, and unsullied with strife, a total diminution of eighty-eight grains Whose hopes are but check'd by the frosts of to

in five days out of eleven ounces of water. morrow,

It follows from this experiment, that That melt ere they chill—'tis « the May-morn of life.”

water ceases to eyaporate when it is in the Field Flowers.

consistence of ice, provided it be secure from the agitation of the air and wind.

But as I should be occupying too much Arts and Sciences. of your valuable pages, in stating the

result of my experiments to account for DIMINUTION IN THE WEIGHT posed to the open air and wind, I shall

the diminution in the weight of ice exOF WATER WHEN FROZEN.

only state that the result of them was, ( To the Editor of the Mirror.)

that it was not the effect of evaporation,

but, on the contrary, of an extremely SIR,-Your valuable correspondent Ja

fine rasping which the wind rubbing cobus observes, in No. 233 of the MIR against the ice carries off continually. ROR, " that water loses in weight by

OMICRON. being frozen, and it evaporates very nearly as fast when frozen as in a fluid state.” Allow me, therefore, to add a few remarks; for having tried several experi- A GRAVE writer on the laws of England, ments on water whilst freezing, I found says, that " when a jury of matrons is that evaporation did not take place with impannelled, the foreman ought to be a out it was exposed to the air, and that it woman of known and good repute.”

A TRAVELLER on horseback meeting a The Gatherer.

spalpeen, asked him, “ Am I half-way “I am but a Gatherer and disposer of other

to Doneraile?" Plase your wurtchip,” men's stuff."- Wotton.

said the boy, “how duv' I know where

you come fronı." SLENDER REPAST.

CHEMICAL DANGERS. “ Have you dined,” said a lounger to his M. ROUELLE, an eminent French chefriend. “ I have, upon my honour,” replied he. “ Then, rejoined the first, mist, was not the most cautious of ope.

rators. To if you have dined upon your honour,

One day, while performing some I fear you have made but a scanty meal.” experiments, he observed to his auditors,

6 Gentlemen, you see this cauldron upon

this brasier ; well, if I were to cease An uninformed Irishman hearing the stirring a single moment, an explosion sphinx alluded to in company, whispered the air."

would ensue, which would blow us all in to a friend, “ Sphinx ! who's he now ??

The company had scarcely 66 A monster-man." « Oh a Munster.

time to reflect upon this comfortable piece man! I thought he was from Cone of intelligence, before he did forget to naught,” replied the Irishman, deter- stir it, and his prediction was accommined not to seem totally unacquainted plished. The explosion took place with with the family.

a horrible crash ; all the windows of the laboratory were smashed to pieces, and

two hundred auditors whirled away into MARCH OF INTELLECT. the garden. Fortunately none received A SCHOOL MASTER advertising for an

any very serious injury, the greatest viousher who could teach the classics as

lence of the explosion having

been in the

direction of the chimney. The demoni. far as Homer and Virgil, received an an. swer from a man, who said " he did not the loss of his wig.

strator escaped without further harm than know where Homer and Virgil lived, but as his friends lived in London, he had no objection to go to Hampstead or Kenning

VOLTAIRE. ton, or Brentford at the most."

WHEN Voltaire was writing his tragedy of Merope, he called up his servant one

morning at three o'clock, and gave him On the mail roaa' near Blackthorn, Ox

some verses to carry immediately to the fordshire, is a public-house, the sign

Sieur Paulin, who was to perform the board of which has the following in

tyrant. His man alleged that it was the scription :

hour of sleep, and that the actor might John UFF,

not like to be disturbed, “ Go, I say,
Sells good ale, and that's enough ; replied Voltaire, “ Tyrants never sleep."
A mistake here,
Sells foreign spirits as well as beer.

Nos. 235 and 236 of the MIRROR are Supplemen-

tary Numbers, containing full descriptions of In Oxford-street, over a shop-door, the Funeral and Lying-in-State of his late Royal Ten days ago, it might be more,

Higliness the Duke of York, with fine illustra. A “ Mr. Fell,” stuck up a bill

tive Engravings-ove of which, on a HALF-SAEET, To say, hc “ Fell, from Holborn-hill.'

presents a correct view of the entire line of Procession, commencing in St. James's-street, &c.

Jacobus will find a note for him at our pubOn a tomb-stone erected a century ago lisber's.

in the church-yard of South Wooton, We have no recollection of the drawing in in Norfolk, is the following epitaph: quired after by S. D.

Thanks to J. G. S. for a pleasing original KEEP death and judgment always in drawing. your eye,

To G. we are obliged. None is fit to live, but who is fit to die ;

A. B. C.; Curios; and W. Wynn in our next, Make use of present time, because you

or an early number.

We would advise Thomas Vize to keep Tko must

Secret, for we cannot. Take up your lodging shortly in the dust ; "Tis dreadful to behold the setting sun,

Printed and published by J. LIMBIRD, And night approaching e'er your work is 143, Strand, (near Somierset House,) and sold done.

by all Newsmen and Booksellers


No. 239.]


[PRICE 2d. The New Church, Chelsea.

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OF all the modern churches lately erected, fices during part of the fourteenth and not one seems to have met the general fifteenth centuries, which is carefully taste so much as the new church at Chel- adhered to throughout the structure. The sea, and few who have seen it have been first object that arrests our attention in backward in acknowledging it the least this front is its lofty and well-proporti. faulty of all modern attempts at a revival oned tower, the area of which, with the of the architecture of the middle ages, arcade communicating thereto, forms a commonly termed Gothic. The above continued covered walk, and is at once a engraving represents he principal or great convenience and embellishment; western front of this highly beautiful the principal entrance, which is in the edifice ; it is of the style of architecture tower, has a projecting gablet enriched which prevailed in our ecclesiastical edi. by tracery and crocketting, and surmountVOL. IX. I


ed by a richly carved finial; the wall on by transoms, the height is made into five each side of the gablet is relieved by divisions ; the head of the window con. paneling. The piers of the arcade have tains a circular light enriched with cinqueprojecting buttresses, above which is a foils, between sub-arches springing from moulded cornice with Gothic pateras at the centre and extreme mullious, filled intervals, the whole finished by a parapet with ramified-tracery. At the angles of of open tracery and pinnacles over the the nave are octangular turrets rising piers ; above this arcade rise the walls of above the roof, and near the top are ornathe aisles and nave, and the flying but- mented by long panels pierced with open tresses springing from the former, in or- tracery; they are each covered by a cu. der to counteract the ceiling of the nave, pola of an ogee form crocketted and have an extremely light and airy effect. finished with a finial; on each side of Above the body of the church, the tower these turrets are entrances to the aisles. rises to a height of about 120 feet from The principal access to the interior is the ground, and near the top, the walls through a lofty vestibule, with a paneled and octangular buttresses are ornamented ceiling enriched with tracery; here are by paneling, the heads of which are filled spacious staircases to the galleries. On in with tracery; above this a large mould- entering the body of the church, the ed cornice with grotesque heads and other spectator is forcibly impressed with the ornamental devices fronting it, is conti. grandeur and solemnity here depicted, nued entirely round the walls and but with the boldness that characterizes the tresses, and an embattled parapet, pierced interior of our ancient cathedrals, and by two tiers of upright divisions, with being in unison with the feelings when pointed heads filled in with tracery, engaged in devotion, must be of great finishes the walls of the tower, but the assistance towards the well performing buttresses are continued about 20 feet that important part of our duty. As a higher, and are also pierced similar to novelty of the age, and the skill required the parapet by four tiers of openings; in the construction of such a work, the the pinnacles are also open at the bottom vaulting of the nave, built entirely of and are crowned by finials; thus, the stone, claims the highest praise ; it is the parts just described, may be said to form first of the kind that has been executed an entire mass of decoration, affording a since the revival of Gothic architecture; light and elegant finish to this noble ap- it is groined and the arch is of an, obpendage to the more useful part of the tusely pointed form; it commences from structure.

the capital of a slender shaft rising from The north and south fronts are divided the clustered pillars of the nave, from by buttresses of bold projection into nine whence nine carved ribs diverge and incompartments, in seven of which are in. tersect the ribs from the opposite side at serted windows containing three upright the vertex of the arch, along which a rib divisions crossed by a transom, and the is continued with carved bosses, where heads filled in with tracery ; small blank intersected. The vaulting over the comwindows occupy the two extreme com munion and organ gallery varies from the partments, the windows of the clerestory preceding, each side of the arch being are similar to those of the aisles with the divided into two rows of panels, with omission of the transom ; in these fronts pointed heads enclosing cinque-foils; at the flying buttresses are seen to the best the springing of the arch is a moulded advantage, and each being partly con. cornice, with busts of angels projecting tained on the walls of the clerestory, is from the same. The nave is lofty and crowned by a pinnacle ; the extreme but- capacious, and is divided on either side tresses of the aisles are also surmounted from the aisles by an arcade supported by pinnacles ; the parapets are pierced by six clustered pillars, and two semi. with open tracery. A sunk area extends pillars next the abutting walls ; they are the whole length of these frorts, serving placed on plinths as high as the pewing. to admit light and air into the extensive These pillars serve to support the galleries, vaults under the church, the entrance to extending the whole length of the nave which is on the north side.

and breadth of the aislos, the fronts of The east front presents a magnificent which are ornamented by Gothic panels. aspect, and if divested of the building Immediately above the arcaile and under designed for a vestry, which occupies the the sill of the clerestory windows, are whole space of the centre division to a ornamental recesses, in imitation of the height of about fifteen feet, would cer. ancient triforium; these afford a fine re. tainly appear to still greater advantage. lief to the wall here, which, had they The great eastern window is divided hoc been omitted, would have had too bare. rizontally into seven lights, or spaces, by an appearance.

The altar-screen is a upright mullions, which, being crossed very splendid composition, profusely de- ;

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