New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1882-10-08

nigh 100 years nave passed. since
ton of oharitythe sacred work and blessed legacy
Of Captain Thomas Coram-was established IN this
place. What divine good 1t has accomplished,
and continues to accomplish, and what pure glory
halows its founders namel Here the poor mother,
betrayed and deserted, may take her child, and find
for II a safe and happy home, and a chance in
hfe-nor will she herself be turned adrift without
sympathy and help. The poet and novelist, George
Croly, was once chaplain of the Founding Hospi-
tai, and he preached some noble sermons there but
these were thought to be above the comprehension
of his usual audi ence and he presently resigned the
place. 1t was an aged clergyman who preach eu
there within my hearing, and | remember ne con-
sumed the most part of an hour in saying that
good way in which to keep the tongue from speak
ing evil is to keep the heart kind and pure better
than any sermon. though was the spectacle OF those
DOOR children rescued out of their helplessness ana
reared in comfort and affection Several line works
Of art are owned by this hospital and shown to
vi,itors-paintings by GainsbOrOugh and Reynolds
and portrait of Captain Coram by Hogarth. May
the turf lie lightly on him. whersoever he rests, and
daisies and volets deck his hallowed grave! No
man ever did better deed than he and the dark
est night that ever was cannot darken his fame.
How dim and silent now are all those narrow
and dngy little streets and lanes around PauPs
Churchyard and the Temple, where Johnson and
Goldsmith loved 10 ramble More than once have
/ wandered there, in the later hours Of the night,
meeting scarce a human creature, but conscious OF
roval company indeed, of the wits and poets and
players of a far-Off time. Darkness now on busy
Smithfeld, where once the frequent, cruel flames
of bigotry shed forth glare that sickened the ght
of day Murky and grim enough tonight Is ina
grand professional walk in ST. Bartholomew
Chapel. where the great gray pillars and splendid
& IL, Il l., arf,O1 or
ing in neglect and decay. Sweet to fancy and dear
in recollection the old church comes back to me
now. with the sound of childrens voices and the
wall of the organ strangely breaking on ITS pensye
rest Still ness and peace over arid Bunmll Fields
the last haven Of many Puritan worthy and hal
lowed TO many pilgrim as the restingplace OF BUN
van and of Watts. In many a park and gloomy
SQUARE the watcher now would hear only a rustlIng
of leaves or the fretful twitter Of half-awakened
birds Around Primrose Hill and ont toward
HAMPSTEAD many night-walk have taken that
seemed like rambling in dssert-5o dark and sun
are the walled houses so perfect Is the oohude' IN
Drury Lane even at this late hour, there wouid be
some movement but cold and dense as ever the
shadows are resting on that little graveyard be-
hind it. where Lady Dedlock went to dle.The place
il is q comfort 70 know has been cleaned, of late,
and is now decent and IN order-as all such places
should be- To walk in Bow-st. now.-might 1t not
he to meet the shades of Waller and Wycherly ana
Betterton. who lived and died there; to have
greeting from the silver-Ongled Barry or to see
in draggled lace and ruifles the saIWart inquire ana
finished. forbldding countenance of Henry Fielding'
Very quiet now are those grim stone chambers ID
the terrible Tower of London, where so many tears
have fallen and so many noble hearts been spit
with sorrow. Does Brackenbury still kneel III the
cold lonely and vacant chapel of St John; or
To- aktp col of
- pe+er,si How sweet tonight would be the rustic
of the ivy the dark walls Of Hadley Church. "here
so lately breathed the rose-scented
AIR and heard the warbling thrush ana
blessed with grateful heart, the lovlng-k1ndness
that makes such beauty in the world. Out there on
the hillside of Hgngate. populous with death the
starlight CLEANS on many pOnderous tomb ana
the white marble of many a scuiptured statue'
where dear and famous names Will lure the travel
ler's footsteps for years TO come There LyndnuIst
rests In honor and peace, and there Is hushed tue
tuueful voice of DempseT-never 10 be heard any
more. either when SHOWS are flying, or g when green
leaves come again" Not many days have passed
since | stood there, by the humble grayestone OIL
DOOR Charles HarcOurt, and remembered all the
oon+Ie enthusiasm with which, Iive years ago, he
smoke TO me of the character Of JdcqHes-"hlch ne
Ioved-and how we'll he repeated the immortal lines
| strange eventful history came early and sud
denly to an end. May peace be with hlm-who
here made only comfort and JOY for all around
him In this ground. too, | saw the sculptured
medallion of the wcll-beloved George Honey all
his frolics DER" and nothing left but this Many
golden moment did we have old friend, and by me
| tbou art not forgottenl The lapse of few years
change. he whole face of life; but nothing can ever
take from us our memories Of the past. Here
around me- In the still watches OF the night are the
faces that will never smile again, and the voice
| that will speak no more And If look from yohdel
window shall not see either the lions OF Landseel
! or the homeless and vagrant wretches who sleel
| arouud them bu, { high in her silver chariot sur
rounded with all the pomp and splendor that roya
| England knows, and marching to her coronation IL
Westminster Abbey, the beautiful figure OF Anne
Boleyn with her dark eyes full OF triumph, and hel
name of golden hair flashing in the sun. On TIM
! snot is written the whole history of mighty EN-
pire. Here are garnered up such loves and hopes
! such memories and sOrOws, az never can be SPOKEN
Pass We shadows! Let the night wane and the
morning break.