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I might write a note to Mr. Mather. I wrote two or three to gratify my vanity-and this, forsooth, this miserable and tore them all into bits. It will do just as well,' I said, I only was my consolation." • to write from the village-or the first town I stop at bet The will is confirmed-bis cousin marries Lascelyne ter still. I can say I walked out, and, finding the morn

--and the attorney brings him in a bill of costs and ing fine, was tempted to go on. I can say I hated the

charges which diminish his little fortune to a bare thoughts of taking leave-that, at least, will be true enough.

£100. This part of the tale is uncommonly well told, I "I hadopened one of the window-shutters, and now thought and does infinite credit to the talents of Mr. Lockhart. it would be as well to close it again. As I was walking on Wald loses the remnant of his property in a wild tiptoe across the room, my eye fell on two little black pro

frolic and is left a beggar. He then turns “ bear-leader" files of Katharine and myself, that we had sat for to an itinerant limner when we were children, and which had ever

in the family of an old Baronet. Here he remains for since hung over the chimney-piece. I took Katharine's 1 a year—falls in love for the second time with a pale, off the nail, and held it for a minute or two in my hand; gentle and affectionate girl, the supposed illegitimate but the folly of the thing flashed upon me in a moment,

child of the Baronet. and I replaced it. Her work-table was by the window, and

His patron dies—the tutorship I was so idle as to open the drawer of it. A blue sash was | dies also he studies medicine-becomes a Doctor the first thing I saw, and I stuffed it like a thief into my || marries the pale “ pledge of love"-finds out that she bosom. I then barred the window again, and hurried out ll is the real lawful child of the Ror

is the real lawful child of the Baronet-becomes a rich of the house by the back way.

“ It was a beautiful, calm, grey morning-not a sound but || man-gets into Parliament, where he makes a speech. the birds about the trees. I walked once, just once, round and a fool of himself abroad, and has the consolation the garden, which lay close to the house-sat down for all to find that his dear wife has turned Methodist at home. moment in the arbour where my father died-and then || And now we are brought back to Katharine, who has moved rapidly away from Blackford. " I could never describe the feelings with which I took || !

been ill-used by her husband and turned out of his house. my parting look of it from the bridge. The pride, the Wald meets with her by accident, and his wife is so scorn, the burning scorn, that boiled above, - the cold, || shocked at the sight of their interview that she miscarries, curdling anguish below,-bruised, trampled heart

and dies. All this is most touchingly written, and “I plucked the blue ribbon from my breast, kissed it ||

|| cannot be read without deeply affecting every person of once as I coiled it up, and Aung it into the water below me. It fell into one of the pools among the rocks, where

decent sensibility. It is in the beautiful manner of we had used to sail our boats. I watched it till it had got |“ Adam Blair," and is perhaps even more pathetic, beunder the bridge, and moved on."

cause more natural in the incidents. Lord Lascelyne At Edinburgh he meets with an old college chum, | discovers the retreat of Katharine, and writes an insultwho persuades him to relinquish his travelling scheme, || ing letter to Wald. He meets his lordship, who refuses and introduces him to his brother, a hypocritical at- || to fight until after some very burning words between torney. This crafty pettifogger instils into young || them. A single passage of this scene is all we can Wald the notion that his father's will is informal, and Il give :argues him into an attempt to set it aside. His feel

66 Friends :-Friends to see us !-Seconds, forsooth!'ings on this point are powerfully described.

| Ay, sir, seconds; 'tis the rule, and I have no passion for “Let me not linger thus upon my shame. May you, singularities, whatever may be your taste.' • Come, come my boy, never know what it is to hold buried at the root of —when you next fall out with some fop about a pointer, or a a heart naturally both honest and proud, the biting, gnaw dancer, my lord-some pirouetting dancer-this puppy leing recollection of one act of meanness. I sinned against Il gislation will do finely. I thoug

ught we were serious every right feeling of my nature. The thirst of revenge rious! partly so, partly not, Mr. Wald. I consider, the dream, the abominable dream, of a guilty, haughty, (but I won't baulk you, though,) I consider this as rather insolent triumph, was too much for me. I allowed myselí a laughable hurry of yours, Mr. Wald.' Laughable ? to be flattered, puzzled, argued out of myself. Years have ha!-was that your word ?' 'Ay, laughable-extremely not softened the darkness of that inexpiable stain. Others laughable -- quite hors des regles.' • The regles ! — Malong ago forgave me; myself I never shall forgive. I have dame Francoise has taught you that pretty word, too. sometimes forgotten those things ;-but never, never since -Come, come, do you wish me to spit on you-to kick I began to go down the hill of life. Age has the memory you-to crush you-to hew you down like a calf?' 'Sir, of other feelings, both good and bad; but one leaves no sha you are a ruffian: but give me your swords

How dow; it stays itself. Indulge a thousand evil passions, and beautifully we went through all the parade! - how you may wash out their traces with tears—but yield once, calmly we proved the distance !-how exactly we took our ay once, to a base one, and you will find it not only difficult attitudes! You would have sworn we were two professed to weep, but vain.

fencers—and yet for me-1 knew almost nothing of it-I had " With a thousand paltry little pretences, I half-for it ll never tried the naked sword before but once; and you was never more than this-I half-deceived myself at the || know how- But after the first minute of ceremony, what time. I believe I did really persuade myself, just at the a joke was all this! I rushed upon him, sir, as if I been some beginning, that I was attacking Mr. Mather, not my cousin. || horned brute. I had no more thought of guards and passes But as to the means of my attack-the questioning the will || than if I had been a bison. He stabbed me thrice-ihrice of my father-as to this I certainly never did succeed in through the arm-clean through the arm-that was my blinding myself. The pitiful unction I laid to the wound, |guard--but what signified this; I felt his blade as if it had which the sense of guilt that I always did retain as to this been a knat, a nothing. At last my turn came-I spitted part of the affair created and kept open,-my pitiful unction him through the heart-I rushed on till the hilt stopped was nothing but that I should always, under whatever cir- | me.-I did not draw my steel out of him.-I spurned him cumstances, have the power of undoing what I might || off it with my foot. Lie there, rot there, beast- !' a sindo. I persuaded myself, therefore, that I was only seeking || gle groan and his eye fixed. The Stagyrite says you cannot

were serious.'

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hate the dead :-He never hated. I dipped my shoe in || Happily the observations which have been made on this his blood. I rushed bome as if I had had wings; but my | ill-judged work in the House of Commons my be produccourage forsook me at the threshold. I entered the room 1 tive of the best effects; for if members will honestly exwhere Katharine was-(she was still seated there, her child li press their opinions in their places, a new æra may have its on her knee, waiting for me)-I entered it with my cloak

ed it with my cloak || date from this period, and a purer taste be adopted under wrapped about me. I sat down at some little distance from the sanction of legislative authority. It is parhaps not the them, and in silence. “Matthew,' said she, “where have || least ridiculous part of the present question, that no one you been ?-what have you been about?-your looks were will father the work. The Lords of the Treasury no doubt strange before-but now- '-I drew my cloak closer about || signed the warrant, without which nothing could have been me. Oh, Matthew-your eyes !-will you never compose done; but they were, we are told, too much immersed in yourself?'' • Never, Kate.' But now you were softening. other business to attend to the peculiar form or style the Come hither, Matthew. Oh try if you can weep! I drew new buildings should assume, or unable perhaps to judge out my sword from below the cloak-I held out the red blade of more than the mere convenience likely to arise to the before me—the drops had not all bak d yet-one or two fell public by the creation of these courts. The Board of upon the floor. “Speak, Matthew! what is this? Speak Works have nothing to do with it, and thus the architect Ha! God of Mercy! there is blood upon that sword.' 'Ay, was left at liberty to destroy the venerable works of our blood, my cousin-blood. My husband! my Lascelyne!' forefathers, endeared to Englishmen by every tie which I heard no more. Heavens and earth! that I should write can interest the lover of antiquity, and to substitute aborthis down! One shriek-one-just one ! Fainted—ywooued ? tions of his own, from which 6 each labouring mason turns Dead! oh! dead. I remember no more.”

abashed his head.”

Why our public works should be confined to the GovernWith this powerful passage the story ends. There ment architects I am at a loss to understand; and why the is some wild fanciful writing which follows, but it is favoured few should close the door upon numbers fully no part of the tale. From a postscript, we are told

competent to every undertaking which can dignify the art

and the country, is a question at least worth consideration. that Matthew Wald lived long and unhappily, and

I can clearly understand Sir Charles Long's argument, that died beneath the roof of his paternal residence. first-rate architects will not subject themselves to competi

We have nothing to add to our former praises of tion with every youngster in the profession; but surely this volume. It is worthy of the author's fame, and

this should not be a reason for shutting out all the talent

in the country, more especially when we see the Governthe reader's curiosity.

ment architects so incompetent to the duties assigned them. Admitting for a moment that Mr. Smirke is a man

of first-rate abilities, is it not folly to give him more busiто тНЕ

ness than he can possibly perform, so that we have the EDITOR OF THE SOMERSET HOUSE GAZETTE.

productions of his assistants rather than his own ? The

taste of Mr. Soane (as some member observed, whose name SIR,

I have forgotten) was known and appreciated long be ore I CONCEIVE no apology is necessary in troubling you upon the sacred buildings at Westminster were trusted in his the subject of the new law courts, a matter so deeply inte hands; and although the Governors of the Bank may be resting to the scientific public, and which has now afforded satisfied with his works, that was a very insufficient reason conversation to all classes.

for allowing him to spoil our venerable hall. It is painful That this puerile work should be the acknowledged pro to reflect upon the impure productions of the present day. duction of our professor of architecture at the Royal Aca Our new street has been called picturesque by one, and demy is most strange and yet most true, and it is difficult the coachmaker's shop near Langham-place, held up as a to assign a reason for such manifest deviations from good model of good taste by another; but let the real architectaste emanating from his pencil. Few architects under tural critic say, if there is a solitary feature of harmonious stand the principles of the art better than Mr. Soane, and proportion from one end to the other. The miss of folly yet few ha

ined more gro

grossly in carrying them into || and absurdity opposite New Burlington-street, worthy execution. Perhaps it is the rage for novelty which gives only of a pastry-cook, is below criticism; and the new birth to these aberrations, and Mr. Soane may not unfitly church in Langham-place deserves all the epithets which be compared with Mr. Braham, frittering away by mere- || Mr. Bennet can imagine, and all the arguments he can urge, tricious ornamı'nt, in the hope of gaining applause from the || in order that it may be taken down, so that this “monster multitude, all feeling for the original theme. Both are re- || in architecture” may no longer shock the public eye. The sponsible for depraving the public taste, and for injuring to || new churches indeed afford a lamentable proof of insufficithe utmost of their power the soundness of principles long ency on the part of our modern architects ; for with the exsince laid down and acknowledged. Upon the subject of || ception of Mr. Inwood's church of St. Pancras, which exarchitecture, however, few perhaps are competent to give ternally deserves much praise, but which is nevertheless an opinion, and men with hold their judgment until some Il more like a ball-room than a church within, (were the censor of acknowledged taste has attached his name to the pews removed) where shall we look for consistency? The work. Even Mr. Banks admits tbat he refrained from new church at Chelsea, modelled after King's College making any observations upon these new law courts until the chapel, at Cambridge, and a church at Kennington, the elevation was nearly perfected, in the hope that some one Il production of a very young architect, may also be exceptmore deeply read in architecture would take up the sub. ed; but, it is impossible to admit more. The churches ject. The evil then was done; and although every member erected in Queen Anne's reign have as high a claim to adin the house joined in reprobating the mongrel production miration as those of the present day; and the productions the moment he opened his lips on the subject; yet being of Hawksmoor and Gibbs in all their variety “of uglines," done, the Chancellor of the Exchequer was obliged in this || are good, compared with this thing in Langham-place, one place to oppose the proposition for removing the unsightly nearly as bad in Wyndham-place, and another at Wandsbuildings on the score of expence. It is in this way our worth. capital is daily disfigured by structures, which cause every It is time the art should be rescued from the debasement lover of the art to turn with disgust away, and it is thus w these and similar works have brought upon it; and since are exposed to the reproach of foreigners, when perhaps || we have had sufficient experience as to the style in which the science was never more studied or better understood. our public buildings are going on, let us enquire what is to


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be done at the British Museum-what at the intended new | dramatic plot of concealing the lost lady under her semPost Office; but above all, if Windsor Castle is to be re- || blance in marble, in which the life was stored to its original purity, or if the hand of the spoiler is to be allowed to intrude even here. The alterations made

“ As lively mock'd, as ever, in the late King's reign, under the judicions direction of

Still sleep mock'd death,” Mr. James Wyatt, would have rendered the Castle the

are exceedingly beautiful, but it is not with the sentiment, pride of England, and the well known taste of our present

but the subject, that we have at present to do. If in place monarch will it may be hoped restore this ancient resi

of the bootless quarrels and cavillings, about the learning dence of our Kings to the splendour it exhibited in the

of Shakspeare, which in the first place, scarcely admit of a reign of our Edward the Third,-1 am, Sir, &c.

satisfactory proof in the present day, and would in the next VITRUVIUS.

place, be quite superfluous to the praise of his genius if April, 1824.

they did, we should contine ourselves to his accomplishments, of which there may be les dispute, we would find

ample reason to justify our admiration without searching DRAMA.

after hypothetical sources of approbation. The sister passion, which is said to unite poetry to painting," breathes

in the following passage, in which he eulogizes the skill of Our critical duties for the present weck are contracted || Julio Romano, with all the raptures, but nothing of the into a narrow compass. Of all the weeks in the year, canting of a prosessed amateur. 3d Gent. No. The this is the only one which is kept as “high holiday” at || Princess hearing of her mother's statue, which is in the every thcatre in the metropolis. No amusement, no plea keeping of Paulina, a piece many years in doing, and now sure; all is instruction and painful acquirement. Thalia newly performed by that rare Italian master, Julio Roccases to reign, and Minerva, for the time, becomes lady mano: who, had he himself eternity, and could put breath 66 of the ascendant." Shakspeare, Sheridan, Farley, Hook, || into his work, would beguile nature of her custom, so porand Grim

f; and Mr. Walker, thell fectly is he her ape." The last part of the commendation Eidouranion, Transparent Orreries, and Mr. Henry's || is not courtly, but it tells one truth very decidedly, that “ laughing gas," (which is the least laughable thing in the Shakspeare, in opposition to some critics of later times, world) are brought out for the edification of the little mas thought that mere likeness to the original, was of itself a ters and misses who have come to enjoy the holidays in very high merit in the labours of the chisel. It is not a town.

little singular, that the practice of painting statues, which As in duty bound, we have attended all these lectures : we now think of, only as a symptom of the lowest dégradawe have vawned with Mr. Walker, slept with Mr. Bartley.

tion of taste, should have existed very generally, as it would and attempted to laugh with Mr. Henry; and we confess seem, among the most polished nations of antiquity, and that nothing but a sense of duty could persuade us to do it | from its application to their most elaborate performances, again. Not but that the lectures have much merit about must have been considered as conducive to further effect. them,-that the exhibitions are ingenious, -and the lec- || Under our humid atmosphere, we could have justified the turers eloquent; yet what can be more tedious and usage by its utility, in defending the surface against it; heart-wearying, than to be compelled, for three or four but Egypt and Greece, both most congenial to the preserhours, to listen to theories of the tides-the distances of vation of works of art, in what regards the climate, furnish the planetaCancer and his crab Jupiter and his moons specimens which leave no reason to doubt that this process the Georgium Sidus-Tycho Brahe and Dr. Herschel. All Il was dictated by the Regles d'Art, and sanctioned by their these are very fine things in their proper places--that is, in approbation, not suggested by any necessity, to which they the heavens, at school, college, or an astronomical Obser- || yielded an unwilling assent. The Sphinx which stands vatory; but at the Theatre, where we go to laugh and cry, I near one of the pyramids, upon a near examination, exhito gaze at "our ow

to learn the form and

d bits marks of having been originally painted. Even the pressure" of the times, -and not to gaze at a phantasma- || statues of the Parthenon, which will be accepted as a higher goria of spotted canvas and magic lanterns, all savouring of authority, were originally painted and gilded, and traces of sober science--it is the most melancholy thing in nature. ll the latter process still appear on the hair of the Venus de It is even worse than Mr. Hume's eloquence, Mr. Ellis- || Medici; in which case it must have been employed, not to ton's tragedy, Signor Benetti in the Opera Bufta, or Mr. || heighten the vrai-semblance to life, which painting in some Young (with an E) in anything. Thanks to the theatrical instances might accomplish, but solely for ornament and fates, Passion-week (which is enough to put the most im- l glitter. perturbable play-goer into a passion) lasts but a week. Why, indeed, it should be reckoned so monstrous, to give Then for Easter-Monday-the new pantomimes, with their to statuary the various colouring which our vestments, or fun, and the Lord Mayor's Ball, with its tragedy. Of the any other peculiarity of the individual might require, first, we shall give a faithful account in justice to ourselves; ll would be a discussion rather beyond the limits of this paper, of the latter we shall say nothing, in mercy to the fashion which only continen its consideration to the existence of the of the Minories and Little Britain. Our anxious longings practice. One might suppose that the same rule, if rigidly for next week are the only support we can find for the dul enforced, would deny to painting more than one colour, or ness of the present.

at any rate, no more than was absolutely required for the relief of the subject which it treated, and which it is obvious

even a single tint would sufficiently effect. I forget the PAINTING OF STATUES.

writer, who, in some of his letters, expresses his dislike to the death-like coldness of the marble; his words are, if I

recollect, " There is a horrible want of life about all sta“ Chide me, dear Stone; that I may say, indeed,

tuary;" and it is perhaps from something akin to this Thou art Hermione: or, rather, thou art she,

feeling, that the bust of a living friend is always accompa. In thy not chiding.”

nied, at least in my own case, with rather an unpleasant

emotion, painfully suggesting a period when I would be Such are the beautiful lines in the 6 Winter's Tale,” in glad to avail myself of this last memorial. It is probably which Leontcs, when gazing on the supposed statue of from some similar reason, that the fabulous existences of Hermione, apostrophises the virtues of his lost wife. The poetry, delight us so much when embodied by the chisel, whole of the circumstances connected with the singular | because it is in fact & creation, and is to them not the badge of death, but of life, suggesting a new acquisition, rather || The allusion to the taste and discrimination of the city than a recent loss. The fact may be, that the province of || connoisseurs is not flattering ; but the period to which it sculpture and painting, is in some measure defined by the || refers is sufficiently remote to admit the most favourable capabilities of the respective arts, and that we content our- || construction on their improvement subsequently in matters selves with those qualities in them which they are best ll of this kind, and may caution us against too readily yieldfitted to express. While painting assumes the wider field || ing our belief, that Gog and Magog which adorn Guildhall, of representing a precise event, by the aid of physiognomi- || are to be considered in the present day any criterion of cal character and appropriate action, assisted by all the || their fondness for painted vestments on the works of the magic of perspective, sculpture confines herself almost chisel, but rather of their respectful acquiescence in the exclusively, in accomplishing the same purpose, to the judgment of their ancestors regarding the most becoming effect of attitude, with comparatively less assistance from costume for these venerable personages. the countenance; and as the success of the artist must depend upon the skill with which he has seized upon the most fitting, to embody his conception, it is obvious that

MUSICAL SCRAP BOOK. be trusts much to the correctness of the anatomical display of the body, and that the mer tricious glare of coloured

No. XVI. vestments could add little, if any thing, to the substantial

ROYAL MUSICIANS. realities of legg, arms, and muscles. That the practice of painting statues was still in observance in the time of

QUEEN ANN, THE WIFE OF JAMES I. Shakspeare, we have further authority from the play we Thomas CUTTING was an excellent performer on the lute. have already quoted. It would seem that the Lady Paulina In the year 1607, he was in the service of the Lady Arahad a Gallery of Art, for Leontes says,

bella Stuart, when Christian IV. King of Denmark, begged " Your gallery,

him of his mistress. The occasion was this, Christian was

fond of the lute, and Douland, whom he had taken from Have we pres'd through, not without much content

England, imagining himself slighted, returned, and left In many singularities.”

the King without a lutenist; in this distress Christian

I applied to his sister Ann, the wife of James I. and she and And we consider her authority therefore as admissible respecting the modes then in repute for managing statues.

also her son, Prince Henry, interceded with the Lady Besides, when she alludes to the first colouring of the mar

Arabella to part with her servant Cutting, and obtained her

consent. The following are the letters on the subject, the ble, no surprise is expressed to mark the novelty of the expedient, or to induce a suspicion of the truth of her

originals whereof are among the Harleian MSS:story. We fear Leontey was a very unpractised cognos

“ Anna R. cente, or at least a very honest one; for it will be observed, “ Wellbeloued cousine, We greete you hartlye well; that the effect of the deception practised on him by Pau Udo Gal, our deere brothers the King of Denmark's genlina, in respect to the statue of his wife, seems to have de tleman-seruant, hath insisted with us for the licencing pended mainly on the colouring of it; for he talks of the your seruant Thomas Cuttings to depart, but not without veins, which would authorise us to believe that it was cus- // your permission, to our brother's service, and therefore tomary even to tinge them, and of the “lips" in which Il we wryte these few lines unto you, being assured your H. * the very life seems warm;' and when his admiration will make no difficultie to satisfie our pleasure, and our was becoming rather more intense than suited the purpose dere brother's desires; and so giuing you the assurance of of his female friend, she at once checks his doughty resolve our constant fauours, with our wishes for the conteneuance of kissing her, by saying

or conualescence of your helth, expecting your returne, we

committ your H. to the protection of God. From Whyt- Good, my lord, forbear;

hall, 9 March, 1607. The ruddiness upon her lip is wet;

“ To our most honerable and wellbeloued You'll mar it if you kiss it; stain your own

cousine the Lady Arabella Stuart.” With oily painting.”

“ Madam, the queene's ma, hath commaunded me to | Again, in addressing Perditta, she makes the recent paint

signifie to your La. that shee would haue Cutting, your ing of the statue the condition on which she refuses to La. seruant, to the King of Denmark, because he desyred allow it to be touched ; and this is also admitted by the

the Queene that she would send him one that could play daughter as a legitimate cause of refusal, when Paulina, upon the lute. I pray your La. to send him back with ane | afraid of premature discovery, cries-

answere as soon as your La. can. I desyre you to cammend

me to my Lo. and my La. Shrewsberry, and also not too “ 0, patience:

think me the worse scriuenere that I write so ill, but to The statue is but newly fix'd, the colours

suspend your iugement till you come hither, then you shall Not dry."

find me, as I was ever,

“ Your La. louing cousin That these pictorial additions to the cold marble were sup

And assured friend, posed to enhance the effect cannot well be doubted; and

HENRY.” Paulina, when she threatens that she would make the sta- || - A Madame Arbelle. tue even move, intimates that she is only withheld by the

ma Cousine." fear that after what she had accomplished, any thing further would be attributed to " wicked powers." The same practice is referred to by Ben Jonson in his play of the

QUEEN ANNE. Magnet c Lady; but there it is not sanctioned by the same QUEEN ANNE was instructed in music by Giovanni Batrespectable authority, and it may even admit of a reason tista Draghi, and played on the harpsichord. She had a able doubt, whether he does not intend to ridicule it by spinnet, the loudest and perhaps the finest that ever was giving it the sanction only of low and vulgar admirers : heard, of which she was very fond. She gave directions

that at her decease this instrument should go to the master Rut. “ I'd have her statue cut now in white marble. of the children of the Chapel Royal for the time being, and Sir Moth. And have it painted in most orient colours. | descend to his successors in office. Accordingly it went

Rut. That's right! all city statues must be painted, else | first to Dr. Croft, and afterwards into the hands of Dr. they be worth nought in their subtle judgments.”

Nares, master of the children of the Royal Chapel.


SOCIETY OF BRITISH ARTISTS, I will open their Twentieth EXHIBITION, at their Gallery,

Suffolk Street, Pall Mall East. No.5, Pall Mall East, on Monday, April 26.



April 14, 1824.

W. LINTON, Secretary.

Admittance Is. Catalogue ls.
L WORKS of MODERN ARTISTS, is open Daily from Ten in

KEY TO DR. HUTTON'S MATHEMATICS. the Morning until Five in the Evening, and will close on Saturday Just published, in 8vo. price 24s. boards, the Second Edition of next, the 21th instant.

A KEY to the COURSE of MATHEMATICS; composed . (By order)

JOHN YOUNG, Keeper. 11 for the Use of the Royal Military Academy, Woolwich, by Admission 1. Catalogues 1s.

CHARLES HUTTON, L.LD. F.R.S. With an Appendix, contain:

ing a Key to the late Edition of the Second Volume, by OLIN This Gallery will be re-opened early in May, with an Exhibition THUS GREGORY, L.L.D. Professor of Mathematics at the Royal of the Works of Ancient Masters.

Military Academy. By DANIEL DOWLING, Master of the Man. sion House Academy, Highgate.-Printed for G. and W.B. Whitta.


DILLY. As a companion to the Exhibition of " ANCIENT MEXI-
CAN MEMORABILIA," Mr. Bullock has prepared (also on the spot) a

Just published, in foolscap 8vo. price 6s. 6d. bds., representation of Mexico in its present appearance. This exhibi. THE ODES of ANACREON of TEOS; Translated into tion cousists of a Panoramic View of the celebrated city and beau

English Verse. By W. RICHARDSON. Reg. With Notes.tiful valley of that name, taken by Mr. W. Bullock, in 1823, and the

Printed for G. and W. B. Whittaker, Ave Maria-lane. first ever offered to the public eve. In the foreground is an Indian Hut, completely furnished, and inhabited by the only Mexican Indian who has visited Europe since the patives sent by Cortes to the King

Just published, price 12s.bound, of Spain. The Hut is surrounded by a garden, modelled from the

A NEW POCKET DICTIONARY of the DUTCH and most extraordinary trees, shrubs, flowers, fruits, and vegetables pro

I ENGLISH LANGUAGES, with a Vocabulary of Proper duced in the country, besides many of the living plants; and con

Nanes, Geographical, Historical, &c. in Two Parts. 1. English veying a correct idea of all the luxuriancy of a tropical climate. In

and Durch-2. Dutch and English. Carefully and properly ar. the room are also displayed the most interesting objects belonging to

ranged according to the present spelling adopted in Holland, By the natural history of Mexico :quadrupeds, birds, fishes, reptiles ;

J. WERNINCK, D.D. Meniber of the Institute of the Nether. and specimens of vegetable life, finished in a manner so as not to be

Tanda, and Minister of the Dutch Church of London. Printed for distinguishable from the singular and rich productions of the earth

T. Cadell; Gand W. B. Whittaker; Longoan, Hurst. Reea, Orme, itself. To these are added a collection of minerals; a series of the

and Co.; Baldwin, Cradock and Joy; Boosey and Sons; J. Col. models of the various classes of the people of New Spain, and ex

linzwood; J. Richardsen; Harding and Co.; Newman and Co.; amples of their habitations, costumes, manufactures, and useful

and Simpkin and Marshall. arts.

Also, lately published, The whole, it is hoped, will furnish a perfect idea of a country hitherto little known, though now growing into so important a rank HASENDONCK'S GRAMMAR of the DUTCH LANGUAGE, with reference to the commercial and political relations of the Bri- || 12mo. price 6s. 60. bound. tish empire.

In a few days will be published, 1 vol. 8vo. with plates,



On the first of May will be published, No. 4, containing I Designed by Mr. CLARK. The Myriorama is a moveable pic- || FOUR VIEWS and a VIGNETTE, representing the ture, consisting of numerous cards, on which are fragments of land. BAPTISMAL FONT of SHAKESPEARE, with historical noscapes, neatly coloured, and so ingeniously contrived that any two, tices and architectural descriptions of that ancient and interesting or more, placed together, will form a pleasing view ; or if the whole edifice, the Church at Stratford upon Avon, forming part of a work are put on table at once, will admit of the astonishing number of || now in progress, being orixinal views of the most interesting col20.922789,888,000 variations : it is therefore certain, that if a person legiate and parocbial churches in Great Britain, from drawings by were occupied night and day, making one change every minute, he I J. P. Neale, the engravings by J. and H. Le Keux. could not finish tue task in less than 39,807,438 years and 330 days. The work is published in monthly parts, each containing four This ingenious production is admirably adapted to excite amongst highly finished views, price 4s. royal 8vo. A few copies are printed young persons a taste for drawing ; to furnish them with excellent | with proof impressions of the plates on India paper, royal 4to, price subjects for imitation, and to supply an inexhaustible source of | 8s. Twelve parts will form a volume, and the whole will be comamusement. The cards are tittel up in an elegant box, price 159. Il pleted in six volumeg.

London : Printed for Samuel Leigh, 18, Strand, and sold by all ] Contents of Numbers already published: -No, I. contains three Booksellers and Stationers,

views of Great Malvern church and a monument.-No. II. contains two views of Leominster church, exterior of Ingbam church,

Norfolk, and a Monument.--No. Ill. contains two views of Little Just publisl:ed, in imo. price 3s. bound,

Malvern church, one view of Witney church, and All Saints' church,

Evesham, SACRED BIOGRAPHY; or, the LIVES of EMINENT London: Published for the proprietor by Longman, Hurst, Rees, MEX, whose Histories are recorded in the Holy Scriptures.

Orme, and Co. Paternoster-row ; Baldwin and Co.; Sherwood and

Co.; and Harding, and Co. Finsbury-square; and may be had of all With Qnestions for Examina.ion at the end of each chapter. By G. ROBERTS, Author :“ Eleinents of Modern Geography," &c.

the Booksellers in the United Kingdom. -Printed for G. and W. B. Whittaker, Ave Maria-lane. Also, lately published,

An HISTORICAL EPITOME of the Old and New TESTAMENTS, and part of the Apocrypha; in which the Esents are London : Printed by SHACKELL and ARROWSMITH, John. arranged according to Chronological Order. By a Member of the 1! son's Court ; and published by W. WETTON, 21, Fleet Street, Chureh of England, acthor of "Fagrily Prayers upon the Creation." II and may be had of J. WARREN, 7, Brydges-street, Covent21 edition, 12mo. price 6s 6d. bourd.

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