sent out to reinforce the infant colony in 1791. In September, 1794, the town was plundered and entirely destroyed by a French squadron, but was afterwards rebuilt, when the African Institution was formed, and since this time it has continued to increase, principally by the negroes, captured on their way to the West Indies; several new towns have been formed, and missionaries sent out. Freetown is the capital; and, according to the census of 1820, the population of Sierra Leone, exclusive of the military, natives, and Europeans, and their families, was 12,509. It is, however, an affecting circumstance, that notwithstanding all our exertions to civilize Africa, the slavetrade continues to such an extent, that in the year 1819, not less than 60,000 Africans were forced from their country, principally under the colours of France.

ON AERIAL TRAVELLING.

(For the Mirror.)

WHILST one half the metropolis teems with eulogy on the intrepidity displayed by the aeronauts, Mr. and Mrs. Graham, during their late brilliant ascent, the remaining moiety as liberally censure the temerity of these courageous individuals, so indifferent about the precedaneous catastrophe which cost the unfortunate experimentalist, Mr. Harris, his life.

With reference to science, I am but slenderly prepared to venture an opinion; yet, to a common observer, the meager gleanings of atmospheric phenomena usually resulting from such undertakings, seem too unimportant to deserve serious attention. Such adventurers may justly be characterised as the jackalls of more scientific intellect on terra firma; the pioneers of a trackless desert, from whose scanty stores a very bare return is found to compensate the peril attached to the enterprise, yet whose observations, though crude and indecisive, may, it is to be hoped, develope some novelties whereon to found useful theories.

1

fall of Stocks, I apprehended that unlucky girl would have shuddered at the idea of being fun-ded + at the terminaAlas! tion of her rash undertaking. Curiosity, to what grievous dilemmas does it expose us!-How apposite our divine bard's description of the same propensity in the mother of all living.— In her dream, after, in imagination, tasting of the fatal fruit, she says of the tempter—

"Forthwith up to the clouds With him I flew, and underneath beheld The earth outstretch'd immense, a prospect wide And various wond'ring at my flight and change To this high exaltation; suddenly My guide was gone, and I, methought, sunk down And fell asleep. But, O, how glad I wak'd, To find this but a dream."

May this imprudent girl's miraculous escape from such imminent danger, effectually dissipate the fumes of a romantic imagination, by turning the current of her thoughts to a rational channel, and rendering her an useful member of society.

Admiration generally rises in proportion to the arduousness of an undertaking, and it is no slight proof of the prevalence of this auxiliary of curiosity, that the collective wisdom of the nation, our senate itself, should be susceptible of an impulse often deridingly ascribed exclusively to the fair sex. I am half inclined to infer, that most of the male descendants of our great primogenitor would compromise their dignity, were they subjected to the test of our first parent; for notwithstanding this dearly-prized sovereignty, they are not infallible, and but one act of disobedience is on record to

our prejudice, the obloquy of which to this day we have to encounter.

Although aerial travelling must ever be exposed to manifest disadvantages, let us inquire if there appertain no redeeming pleasures only conceive the delight to a fine woman to engross the exclusive observation of all the gay fellows as long as she chooses to remain visible to know that there are thousands of hearts palpi tating with apprehension for her safetythat her return will diffuse indescribable

joy, and give her undying celebrity-the superlative rapidity of her course, as it were a comet darting through the hemisphere, the wonder of the age-affording practical instruction to the rising genera tion of the rotatory motion of our planet, which is epitomised by the whirling ac tion of the air on the vehicle, in its course through that transparent element.

If the pleasure of the spectators is to be The name of the female who accompanied Mr. Harris. "Found dead," we presume is meant.--Prix. ter's Incubus.

404

if at meal-time,) until relieved from the inconvenience, and the louder and more violent the different propulsions of sound are, the more genteel, easy, and agreeable you will be considered.

When in company, should you ever be at a loss what to do with your hands and feet, (as is often the case with young people,) you can occasionally put one foot over the other; sit cross-legged, particularly if a young lady); pick your ears with the head of a pin; run your fingers through your hair; pare your nails with a pen-knife; remove superfluous hairs with your nails; blow your nose, and look at your handkerchief; beat a tattoo on the table; bite your nails; gape now and then; stretch yourself to open your chest; loll back and tilt your chair; cut a notch or two in the arm of it with your pen-knife, (which should always be in your hand ready for use); scratch your head, or any other part that may happen to itch, and in so doing you will convince the company that you have been well brought up, and are perfectly free from vulgar habits.

THE BEACON.

flies,

And death stills the heart's last emotion, Oh, there may the Seraph of Mercy arise, Like the star on eternity's ocean.

just as you have made that distant land— the Isle of Dogs after having been cramped up in a wherry for an hour. "Remember poor Jack!" is no disagreeable sound, and almost forces open your purse-strings to the extent of a penny, or even two-pence before you step on-shore, and once again set at naught the perils of the waves.

The situation of the Fair is somewhat altered. It has become more straggling and less neat, for there do not appear to be more booths, and yet they extend over a greater surface, reaching almost to Deptford Creek, where, as a finish, a gallant steam-boat has been brought to, and lies dormant, half in water and half in mud, to receive the visits of the teaand-toast people, who are sensible of the delight of performing a meal out of the common way. Alas, what an alteration has taken place on the deck! The broadsail, that should have been spread aloft. is degraded into an awning; the rudder lies useless at the stern! and the helm, that was wont to be occupied by the steady pilot, is now taken possession of by an old woman, who deals out the only steam on-board from the spout of the tea-kettle We walked a little further, and we thought we had hit on the identical pilot that had been banished from his birthright, for there was a poor fellow singing some doleful ditty of a fell enchantress,

"Who the poor tar from his true love tore, while he seemed to cast an eye, 66 more in sorrow than in anger," on the interlopers in the vessel.

But the Fair is nothing when compared to the Park. Gay groups were scattered through the scene, evidently determined to make the most of their holiday; all the colours in and out of the rainbow were combined to diversify their gay-day dresses, and each gentle rise had its summit crowned with drones busy about nothing. One-Tree-Hill was the great resort, however, on the top of which stood the solitary tree from which it has taken its name, and under the shade of which the good folks were stowed eight to the square yard, for the purpose of getting cool: every son of Cockaigne knows the delightful prospect from this spot; on the left appears the city of the world, crowned with an everlasting wreath of smoke, through which the great Cathedral determinedly makes its way like a constable marching through a crowd capable of resisting any thing short of authority. Immediately beneath the hill stands the hospital, with the river stealing on the eye, between the intervals of the building, and to the right, far away,

stretches the stream, continually widening and gaining strength till it rushes to meet the great devourer; the immediate vicinity gave great tokens of a military strong hold prepared by the ladies; at the only two feasible points of attack a most determined and impenetrable ring was formed of lads and lasses to celebrate that most ancient and honourable divertisement, yclept "kiss in the ring," while between these two grand points, running fires of Cupid's darts were kept up from maidens' eyes, to the great peril of his majesty's lieges, who were fain to surrender on honourable terms.

We must not forget to mention our old friend Punch-honest Punch-kind Punch, who is worth a hundred of the fashionable kickshaws that are daily palmed upon us to be admired, and whose good-humoured efforts to please at the expense of a broken pate can never be sufficiently praised: as we turned a corner, a Pandean pipe was getting on as well as it could with "the conquering hero," and Punch's pavilion stood in the rear: we were naturally anxious to know which act of Punch's life claimed that honour, and we approached: it was that affecting scene where our old favourite is about to make his exit from this transitory world by a line, but contrives for what cannot he contrive ?to substitute the official in his place: we acknowledge the justice of the allusion.

As the evening drew on, the crowds quitted the Park, and concentrated in the neighbourhood of the Fair. The Crown and Anchor (not in the Strand) was crowded to excess by aspirants to pirouetting celebrity, and the neighbouring booths echoed and re-echoed with the oft-repeated sound "a pot of heavy;" the consequences of which may be easily divined. those that had been deadly lively by degrees became deadly noisy, and finished the affair by being dead drunk; but, however,

De Mortuis nil nisi bonum.

RECOLLECTIONS OF NEWING. TON GREEN;-A SKETCH.

(For the Mirror.)

NEWINGTON GREEN is a village between Islington and Stoke Newington, consisting of a handsome Square, with a grass-plat in the centre. It is memorable for having been the residence of persons of distinguished talents. An academy, which was some years since pulled down, formerly (1747) belonged to the celebrated James Burgh, which he supported with great reputation to himself, and benefit to his scholars, for nineteen years. He was the author of "The Dignity of Human Nature, or a brief Account of the certain and established means of attaining the true end of our existence;" "Thoughts on Education ;"- "A Hymn to the Creator;" "A Warning to Dram-drinkers ;". "Political Disquisitions," &c. Those who were in habits of intimate acquaintance and frequent intercourse with him, highly esteemed him for his piety and integrity, his social, cheerful temper, and the benevolent ardour with which he devoted himself to the promotion of the public good. He was born in 1714, at Madderty, in Perthshire, and terminated his useful life in 1775. The last occupier of this academy was the late Dr. James Lindsay, who suddenly expired at Dr. William's library, Red Cross Street, whilst advocating the cause of public education, a subject dear to his heart, thus he fell in his own field with glory, displaying

"The ruling passion strong in death,"

His remains were interred in Bunhill Fields' burial ground, attended by a great number of his scholars, who testified their esteem for him whilst living, by their sincere grief at his grave. A monument is to be erected to his memory, at the expense of his pupils; but his virtues and public spirit will outlive the fragile stone. He was long pastor of the dissenting meeting upon the Green, whose pulpit

CHARLOTTE.

O, GAZE upon this lovely flow'r,

Its blushing beauty tells,

That modesty's enchanting pow'r,
An innate virtue dwells.

And while you view the dew-fraught bloom

Or breathe the scented gale,

Thy breast will sigh at Rosa's doom,
For soon those charms will fail.

The graceful droop no more display'd,
The crimson hue departs,

Though wither'd in death's silent shade,
Sweet fragrance it imparts.

O, lovely Maid! that fate is thine,
Thy beauty will decay;

But virtuous actions ever shine
Bright to eternal day.

CLAVIS.

lents of Dr. Price, Dr. Towers, &c.

On this spot resided Mary Wollstonecraft. Two white houses, on the south side of the Green, (it is said,) were formerly inhabited by King Henry VIII.; one contains the Arms of England in front, and a lane in the neighbourhood is called "King Henry's Walk." In the parlour of one of these houses I have passed many happy hours; here resided a member of the Society of Friends, (I. Fry), whose garden-wall I have often scaled His son, with whom I lived many years, a man of estimable soul, (now dead,)

married my eldest sister, and they shortly afterwards crossed the Atlantic; but "From earthly cares he's gone to heavenly rest, Regretted most by those who knew him best." At that early period of life, I was musing upon the "History of the Buccaneers of America," and fancied in that region nothing was to be seen but desolation and carnage; that my sister was gone to a nation of marauders, and I should see her no more. At present, when I turn my thoughts to that rising world, my mind depicts a different scene:-so delusive are early impressions. The site of the academy is now occupied by a gardener, (honest old Crook,) who will talk and dwell with delight upon old pranks;-there still remains an old door, &c., with names long since cut, which call to mind the deeds of school-fellows, whose exploits will long live in my mind. Here I endeavoured

"To trace

The few fond lines that time may soon efface," and I may say with Rogers, in his "Pleasures of Memory,"

"As through the garden's desert paths I rove,
What fond illusions swarm in every grove,
Mute is the bell that rung at peep of dawn,
Quickening my truant feet across the lawn.
All, all are fled; yet still I linger here!
What secret charms this silent spot endear! ❤

Often, when a boy, have I lingered over the Green, and on this revered spot: youth have been educated from and for various parts of the world; some of whom are now in distant regions, and when turning their thoughts to the place of their early days, they may, perhaps, say with a sigh,

"Ah, happy hills! ah, pleasing shade!
Ah, fields, belov'd in vain,

Where once my careless childhood stray'd,
A stranger yet to pain."

Others have fallen in the field of battle, and some by the bitterness of climate. Oh! how sweet, yet painful, to trace the remembrance of early days, and call to mind the deeds of juvenility!

Painful the remembrance of past pleasures never to return. Yet, "The present joys of life we doubly taste, With looking back with pleasure on the past."

Cowper, beautifully says,

"Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise,
To love the play-place of our early days;
The scene is touching, and the heart is stone
That feels not at that sight, and feels at none.
The wall on which we tried our graven skill,
The very name we carv'd subsisting still;
The bench on which we sat while deep employ'd,
Though mangled, haok'd, and hew'd, not yet
destroy'd,"

Again,

"This fond attachment to the well-known place,
Whence first we started into life's long race,
Maintains its hold with such unfailing sway,
We feel it e'en in age, and at our latest day."

These lines I sensibly feel when I visit the Green, where the names of Lynch, Hutton, Gliddon, Huggins, Hetherington, Wyatt, Atkins, Allingham, Courtney, Barclay, Mallet, Hoggart, Macloud, Fry, Brown, Westcott, &c., formerly re-echoed to the annoyance of the worthy doctor: some of which are now sounding on the shores of the Leeward Isles; others on the sultry banks of the Ganges, or the shores of the Majestic Thames.

Thus time glides silently away, like a river which is lost in the immensity of the ocean, and the little frolics of early life, are partly forgotten in the grand drama of human existence-Manhood.

P. T. W.

PETER PINDARICS;

OR, JOE MILLER VERSIFIED. PIOUS FRAUDS; OR, THE KNIGHT AND THE FRIAR.

A MONK was standing at a convent gate,
With sanctimonious phiz, and shaven pate,
Promising, with solemn cant,

To all that listen'd to his rant,
A full and perfect absolution,

With half-a-dozen hallowed benedictions, If they would give some contribution, Some large donation supererogatory,

To ransom fifty murder'd christians,
And free their precious souls from purgatory:
When (he asserted) they would gain
A passport from the realms of pain,

And find a speedy passage to the skies.
A knight was riding by, and heard these lies:
He stopp'd his horse. Salve," the parson cried;
And "Benedicite," the youth replied.

"Most reverend father," quoth the knight,
Who, it appears, was sharp and witty,
"These martyr'd christians' wretched plight,
Believe me, I sincerely pity:
Nay, more-their sufferings to relieve,
I will these fifty ducats give."
This was no sooner said than done;
The priest pronounc'd his benison.
"Now, I presume," the soldier said,
"The spirits of these christians dead,
Have reach'd their final place of rest?"
"Most true," replied the rev'rend friar,
"(Unless Saint Francis is a liar ;)
And, to reward the pious action

Of this most christian benefaction, You will, no doubt, eternally be blest." "Well, then," exclaim'd the soldier-youth, "If what you say indeed be truth,

And these same pieces that I've given,
Have snatch'd their souls from purgatory's pains,
And bought them a snug place in heaven,

No further use for them remains."
He said thus much, to prove, at least,
He was as cunning as the priest:
Then, put the ducats in his poke,
And rode off, laughing at the joke.

C. J. D.

Select Biography.

No. XI.

MR. SMITH, THE MISSIONARY. JOHN SMITH, of whose Chapel and House, in Demerara, we gave an engraving and description in our last, was born