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that "Joseph was brought down to Egypt; and Poti-
phar, an officer of Pharaoh, captain of the guard, an
Egyptian, bought him of the hands of the Ishmaelites,"
Gen. xxxix. 1. It is a truth that Joseph sent for his
father Jacob to dwell with him in the land of Egypt,
and that, "when he saw the wagons which Joseph had
sent to carry him, the spirit of Jacob revived."
enough," said he; "Joseph my son is yet alive: I will
go and see him before I die," Gen. xlv. 27, 28. The
miracles that God performed for his people, rise to our
remembrance, and the plagues that were spread over the

When Moses stretch'd his wonder-working rod,
And brought the locust on the foes of God;
When countless myriads, with despoiling wing,
Scourged the hard heart of the Egyptian king.

"It is

I have wandered from one piece of sculpture to another. Here the chisel of Phidias, and there that of Praxiteles, has been at work, giving an inestimable value to stone. The Elgin marbles; the relics of the Athenian temples; the statues of Theseus, Illyssus, and the Fates; the frieze of the Parthenon; the alto-relievo representations of the strifes of the Centaurs and the Lapitha; the Townley marbles, and the Egyptian collection of sculpture, have all been visited, and I could now sit me down opposite this huge hieroglyphical sarcophagus, and muse and moralize. The temples of olden time; the artists of genius and talent, whose works are before us, and those to whose fame they have vainly sought to give immortality-" Where are they?" The mutilated marbles, and time-worn inscriptions of the most splendid works of art, seem to press on the reflective mind the lesson, "Gratefully enjoy the things of time, but forget not those of eternity."

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The print room, to those who are fond of engravings, is a treat absolutely inexhaustible. Historical subjects, landcapes, seascapes, architectural designs, portraits, animals, birds, fishes, insects, trees, shells, fossils, fruit, flowers, and ornaments, by the most eminent artists, English and foreign, are kept in the nicest order. The connoisseur and amateur may here revel in boundless variety. The library is, perhaps, after all, still more generally valuable than any other part of the Museum, containing, as it does, almost every book from which pleasure and information can be derived. The manuscripts are very numerous, and the persons in the reading room, where I am making my closing remarks, sufficiently testify, by their numbers and busy attention, how highly they. estimate the advantages of the institution.




THERE is the College, and there are the grey-headed old soldiers, in their red coats and cocked hats! I must go nearer, and exchange a word or two with these veterans, for they have plenty of time for talking.

To say that this is a handsome building, is not saying much; for we may rest assured that every edifice designed and built by sir Christopher Wren has much to recommend it; but Greenwich Hospital is so far superior to it, that it seems to cast Chelsea College into the

shade. I am now drawing near the aged soldiers, some sitting in rows, some standing in groups, and others walking about by themselves.

After all, there is a sobriety about this brick and freestone edifice which pleases me; for I question if the magnificence of a more imposing building would harmonize so well with the purpose to which the college is applied, and with the plain habits of its inmates. Not for a moment, much as I am opposed to war, with its multiplied sins and sorrows-not for a moment would I abridge of any real comfort or convenience those who have fought the battles of my country. Would that I could make them more happy than they are, and see the warriors of by-gone days the partakers of a peace that "passeth all understanding;" but a plain building seems to me more suitable to them, as a dwelling-place, than a structure of magnificence and splendour. I never see a Greenwich pensioner by that splendid palace of a building, Greenwich Hospital, without thinking that custom alone has reconciled us to so strange a contrast. How would Old Humphrey, with his homely habits, appear, and how would he feel, sitting down to the banquet at Buckingham palace, or the castle at Windsor, with a silver service before him, and a set of crimsonliveried serving men at his back?

But think not that I am ignorant of the general bearing of these things. It is not only thought necessary that disabled soldiers and sailors should be provided for, but that the attention paid to them should be visible to the public eye; that it should be known, seen, felt, and talked of, that the nation's defenders are not forgotten,— that they have pensions granted them, and live in palaces. I blame not this policy, and only say, Would

that we were all as wise for another world as we are for this!

I remember reading that sir Stephen Fox, the grandfather of the statesman, who projected Chelsea College, died in his ninetieth year. A good old age truly; but if after threescore years and ten our strength is labour and sorrow, it will be far better to prepare to quit the world at a much earlier period, than to desire so lengthy a pilgrimage.

Nell Gwyn, the favourite of Charles I., has the credit of having recommended that monarch the adoption of sir Stephen Fox's project. Sir Christopher Wren was employed, and king Charles laid the foundation stone of the building. Sir Stephen Fox's heart must have been in the undertaking, for he spent in it twelve or thirteen thousand pounds of his own money. It was in 1682 that the first stone was laid.


I have walked through the college, the three courts, the garden, and the terraced walks, from the entrance down to the side of the Thames, talking with the greyheaded soldiers, picking up scraps of information, and examining the large bronze statue of Charles II., and other curiosities.

It appears that there are near five hundred in-pensioners in the establishment, that regular garrison duty is kept up, and that divine service is performed three times every week in the chapel. The number of outpensioners is very great. A poundage is paid by the whole British army to support the college, and every officer and every private soldier contributes a day's pay once a year to the fund. The parliament is ever ready to make up a deficiency, let the sum be what it may, for

neither the old soldiers nor the old sailors of England are neglected.

In talking with these old fire-locks of England, the pensioners, I learn that the origin of the present regular army. was the corps of Life Guards, established by king Charles II.; for the "Yoemen of the Guard" of Henry VII., and the archers or sergeants-at-arms of Richard 1, could hardly be called soldiers. I learn also, from the same authority, that there are not, were not, and never will be, any soldiers like those of Old England. Aged as some of the inmates of the college are, some of them can bristle up even now when a bayonet is spoken of. It is high time for them to be still, and in charity with all mankind.

I should take a peep at the boys in the Royal Military Asylum near, dressed up in their red jackets, blue breeches and stockings, and black caps, going through their exercise; and at the girls in their red gowns and blue petticoats, both the one and the other marching to their meals to the sound of the drum; but Greenwich Hospital, which I mean to see to-day, is at some distance. I must, therefore, instead of visiting the asylum, step on board a steamer. Chelsea college, I bid thee farewell! Would that thy grey-haired and furrow-browed inmates were fighting as manfully against sin in their age, as they have contended against their foes in their youth! Would that they were ready to give glory to thee, rather than to themselves, saying, "Thine, O Lord, is the greatness, and the power, and the glory, and the victory, and the majesty; for all that is in the heaven and in the earth is thine: thine is the kingdom, O Lord! and thou art exalted as head above all. Both riches and honor come of thee, and thou reignest over all; and in thine


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