THE ELDON SCHOOL, VAUXHALL.

THIS interesting foundation presents a noble instance of private munificence, which it affords us much gratification to illustrate in our Miscellany.

"The Eldon School" is situated at Vauxhall, opposite the road leading to Battersea. The building consists of a lofty elevation, in the old English, or late Tudor, style; of freestone, with cement finishings, as chimney-shafts, gables. finials, &c. In the second story is a niche, with a flattened archway, beneath which is placed a statue of the late Earl of Eldon, by Tatham, date 1831. Immediately under the niche are the Eldon arms, parallel with those of the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of Winchester. The entrance is by a flattened archway through a kind of lodge, with machicolated front wall, to the school-room, in the rear of the building. This is a spacious apartment, reaching to the height of two stories of the main structure. The roof is open, and has ornamented rafters and tie-beams. Immediately over the principal entrance doorway is a large wooden gallery, upon the front of which are the arms of several of the early champions of Protestantism, "the Seven Bishops," and others; and, on the wall above, are the arms of Canterbury and Winchester. At the opposite end is a large flattened window, which, with windows in the sides, lights the building. Upon the left side is the Master's desk, a neat imitative stone composition, surmounted with a cushion, bible, sceptre, and regal crown, flanked with the lion and unicorn, each supporting a shield. Upon the wall, above the Master's seat, are the royal arms in the reign of Queen

Elizabeth

- emblematic of the earliest

epoch of public education in England. Beneath the crown, Bible, &c., are the upper half of an angel, foliage, &c.; under which, upon a large shield, is the following inscription:

Tim. ii. Chap. iii. Ver. xiv. xv. Continue thou in the things which thou hast learned and hast been ASSURED OF, knowing of whom thou hast learned them; And that from a child thou hast known the HOLY SCRIPTURES,

which are able to make thee WISE UNTO SALVATION, through faith which is in CHRIST JESUS.

Underneath is the date, MDCCCXXIX. Upon the opposite wall are three large arches, slightly recessed; that to the left being filled with a map of Asia Minor in the time of the Apostles; and that to the right,

of Palestine in the time of our Saviour. Beneath the central arch are two large figures of Faith and Justice, supporting a shield with the following inscription:

This School Founded in 1829,

For the Propagation of the Christian Religion,

and for the Inculcation

of those pure and Apostolical Principles which have hitherto distinguished the established CHURCH in this Kingdom, is dedicated

to HER most faithful and persevering Defender, John, First Earl of Eldon,

Late

LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR of ENGLAND. Opened 4th of June, 1830.

The origin of this School remains to be stated. It is named to perpetuate "the Memory of John, First Earl of Eldon, (twenty-seven years Lord High Chancellor of England,) and to commemorate his able, zealous, and constant Defence of the Protestant Reformed Religion against every innovation."

The benevolent founder and supporter of this establishment is Charles Francis, Esq., of Vauxhall; his object being, "under the Divine blessing, to give instruction to the children of the poor who reside at the adjoining extremities of the Parishes of Lambeth, Battersea, and Clapham, in the Holy Apostolical Religion, as by law established in this country;to train them up in loyalty to the King and obedience to the Government ;--to teach them to be dutiful to their parents and grateful to their benefactors;—and to communicate to them so much of general education as may be necessary for their several stations in society.'

The School consists of 140 boys, and is conducted on the system of Dr. Bell: and the public are courteously invited to inspect it, any day of the week, except Saturday.

THE TWO STRANGE GOSSIPS.

ing-and very particularly early, when it 'Twas night; or, perhaps, 'twas mornstrangely happened to us to be homeward bound, through that part of our good city where London Wall abuts on Finsbury. It is here that sagacious architect, Timepast, maintains the stoutest fight against the vile plasterer, his successor, Time-preIt were difficult to say who hath the better of it; but here stand the forces of the younger combatant, mustered in the same rank and file with those of his injured parent; sowing dissension where open force may not be employed. To drop all nonsensical metaphor, as for rea

sent.

sons which it concerneth not the reader to

inquire into,-the icy air of morning was grateful to our brow, and the moon shone forth conveniently at this especial moment; we leant our back against a ladder that stood in the path, and determined to gratify our curiosity about the buildings, old and new, that surrounded us in all directions, more especially with respect to two houses which stood immediately in front.

The one was a low, flat-built, antiquated mansion, with slanting roof, deep embayed windows, and a front strengthened and intersected by stout beams of wood, crossing and recrossing one another like ingenious darning: according to the good old fashion, too, each floor, as it rose above its supporter, stepped out considerably beyond the old limit; so that, in former times, when both sides of the street were alike, and close together, he who dwelt in the garret might well deny himself to unwelcome inquirers, being always and truly "over the way."

The next-door neighbour to this house was a tenement of a different date and disposition: it was tall, and straight, and angular, of a stone-white complexion, and abounding with what some people facetiously term "windows!"

While we thus minuted the appearances of these houses, the moon suddenly shone full upon them, and her beams were reflected from all the glass in front, with an appearance like that of the eyes of a cat in the dark. We felt, as it were, stared out of countenance, and, closing our eyelids, gave ourselves at once up to quiet reflection on the past in general, and the mutations undergone by the city around us in particular. It was not long, however, before our own speculations on the subject were curtailed, by an incident which, however remarkable it may appear, will be allowed to have afforded us matter more worthy of record than our own inexperienced thoughts. We heard a voice, clear as a bell, proceed, as it were, from the White House opposite!-the Old House replied; and, after the first compliments, as near as we can recollect, the following was the substance of the conversation that ensued between the two:

"Last night," observed the younger of the two houses," the conversation was about to turn on our tenants, when we broke off. How do you find it? for my part, I am an observer of mankind; but no one stays long enough within my doors for me to read half his disposition: you may have observed this, that no man who has any character worth contemplation, ever trusts himself even to the solitude of a new residence. The timorous and suspicious rascals have no confidence in a wainscoting which they have not known for half a year. If familiarity between man and man breeds contempt, between house and man it nurtures confidence. I always find that these human creatures are strangers to themselves in a strange place. And my misfortune is, as I said before, that folks no sooner enter here, than they give warning, or receive warning, or-in short, they go."

"A great many more years, no doubt; but come, I like personal anecdote. You were about to talk of your folks within."

"Ay, ay, so I was; that is very true, so I was. Well, well, well,—my folks and I have grown old together, and we shall never be parted, I do think, till I see them carried out of my doors to the churchyard. There be many within my walls who will give up their last breath where they drew their first. Have you observed the old man who sits under my porch, these fine afternoons, to warm him in the sun? Ah! well; it is just seventy years since he first toddled out on the pavement to catch the shadows of the birds, as they flew over. Poor old soul! for all I have seen or heard, he has done little better all his life. To-day he was at his old tricks; counting his guineas in the cellar, till the cold pierced him to the core: a few days more, and he will lie deeper than his gold."

"Ah, ah!" cried the White House, "if some people knew all, the Golden Fleece would soon give up the ghost."

"Ugh!-you make one shake to one's foundations; all the souls within me will leap up in their beds!-you shouldn't talk so, my dear friend. La! I hope to be spared for a little while yet. What would my friend, the hosier, do, who came to business when he was no taller than the picture of the long stocking on the shutters? He has lived here long enough, as he says, to see the world leave off knit-leggings. Then there are the old couple on my second floor, whom I remember coming in forty years since, after their first week of marriage: then my staircase creaked, though it was not with the weight, but with a delicious sense of the young bride's pretty foot. Her little figure haunted me, for a time, like a deceased lodger! (You see I have caught the love-sick jargon of the race.) But times are changed: the pair are still here; and, Heaven help us, how many bearing their name have they sent forth from my doors into the world! When the lady comes in, or goes out, now, my stairs tell a different story. She tries their strength as she mounts; besides, the old girl has never done "getting up." Again, what would become of the old Roman lady in the third floor back, who has made

Tully makes his the secret symptoms tell,
Of those Distempers which proud Rome befel;
When in her highest Flourish she would make
Her Tyber from the Ocean Homage take.
Great Antonin the Emperor, did gain
More Glory by his Letters than his Raign:
His Pen out-lasts his Pike, each golden Line,
In his Epistles doth his Name inshrine:
Aurelius by his Letters did the same,
And they in chief Immortalize his Fame.

Words vanish soon, and vapor into Air,
While Letters on Record stand fresh and fair,
And tell our Nephews who to us were dear,
Who our choice Friends, who our Familiars were.
The bashful Lover, when his stammering Lips
Falter, and fear some unadvised slips,
May boldly Court his Mistress with the Quill,
And his hot Passions to her Breast instill:
The Pen can furrow a fond Females Heart,
And pierce it more than Cupid's feigned Dart:
Letters a kind of Magic Vertue have,
And like strong Philtres humane Souls inslave.
Speech is the Index, Letters Idæas are,
Of the informing Soul, they can declare,
And shew the inward man, as we behold
A Face reflecting in a Chrystal Mold:

They serve the Dead and Living, they become
Attorneys and Administers: In sum,
Letters like Gordian Knots, do Nations tye,

weaver, who, evening after evening, for nearly forty-five years, was always to be found in his place, and during the entire period was much distinguished for his severe, and often able strictures, on the events of the day. He had thus debated through the days of Wilkes, of the American war, and of the French war, and, being on the side of liberty, was constantly in opposition. His mode of arguing was Socratic, and he generally applied to his adversary the reductio ad absurdum, often creating bursts of laughter.

The register, or chronicle of the box, was a Mr. Murray, an episcopal Scotch clergyman, who generally sat in one place from nine in the morning till nine at night, and was famous for having read, at least once through, every morning and evening paper published in London during the last thirty years. His memory being good, he was appealed to, whenever any point of fact within the memory of man

J. H.

THE LATE SIR RICHARD PHILLIPS.

(Continued from p. 104.) Or the literati and politicians who frequented the Chapter Coffee-house, from 1797 to 1805, Mr. Alexander Stephens left some very interesting reminiscences among his MSS., which, at his death, were purchased by Phillips; and, coupled with his own contemporaneous recollections, were printed, many years since, under the head of Stephensiana, in the Monthly Magazine. Indeed, the staple of these anecdotes were furnished by Phillips, in place of reliance upon Stephens's almost illegible hand-writing. The box in the north-east corner of "the Chapter" used to be called the Wittinagemot. Early in the morning it was occupied by neighbours, who were designated the Wet Paper Club, as it was their practice to open the papers, as brought in by the newsmen, and read them before they were dried by the waiter. A dry paper they viewed as a stale commodity. In the afternoon, another party enjoyed the wet evening papers, and it was these whom the writer met.

Dr. Bu

chan, author of the Domestic Medicine,* generally held a seat in this box; and, though he was a Tory, he heard the freest discussion with good humour, and commonly acted as a moderator. His fine physiognomy and white hairs qualified him for this office. But the fixture in the box was one Mr. Hammond, a Coventry

This celebrated work was offered to every principal bookseller of Edinburgh and London for £100, without obtaining a purchaser; and, after it had

remarked, however, that such incessant daily reading did not tend to clear his views.

Among those from whom I constantly profited, was Dr. Berdmore, master of the Charter-house; Walker, the rhetorician; and Dr. Towers, the political and historical writer. Dr. B. abounded in anecdote ; Walker, to the finest enunciation united the most intelligent head I ever met with; and Towers, over his half-pint of Lisbon, was sarcastic and lively, though never deep.

Among our constant visitors was the celebrated Dr. George Fordyce, who, having much fashionable practice, brought news which had not generally transpired. He had not the appearance of a man of genius, nor did he debate, but he possessed sound information on all subjects. He came to the Chapter after his wine, and usually staid about an hour, or while he sipped a glass of brandy and water. It was then his habit to take another glass at the London, and a third at the Oxford, before he returned to his home in Essex

street.

Dr. Gower, the urbane and able physician of "the Middlesex," was another pretty constant visitor, and added much to our stock of information. It was gratifying to hear such men as Fordyce, Gower, and Buchan, in familiar chat. On subjects of medicine they seldom agreed; and when such were started, they generally laughed at each others' opinions. They seemed to consider Chapter punch as aqua vitæ: if any one complained of being indisposed, Buchan would exclaim: "Now, let me prescribe for you without a fee. Here,

two shares at fifty pounds each.