I might write a note to Mr. Mather. I wrote two or three and tore them all into bits. 'It will do just as well,' I said, to write from the village-or the first town I stop at better still. I can say I walked out, and, finding the morning fine, was tempted to go on. I can say I hated the thoughts of taking leave-that, at least, will be true enough.' "I had opened one of the window-shutters, and now thought it would be as well to close it again. As I was walking on tiptoe across the room, my eye fell on two little black profiles of Katharine and myself, that we had sat for to an itinerant limner when we were children, and which had ever since hung over the chimney-piece. I took Katharine's off the nail, and held it for a minute or two in my hand; but the folly of the thing flashed upon me in a moment, and I replaced it. Her work-table was by the window, and I was so idle as to open the drawer of it. A blue sash was the first thing I saw, and I stuffed it like a thief into my bosom. I then barred the window again, and hurried out of the house by the back way. "It was a beautiful, calm, grey morning-not a sound but the birds about the trees. I walked once, just once, round the garden, which lay close to the house-sat down for a moment in the arbour where my father died-and then moved rapidly away from Blackford. "I could never describe the feelings with which I took my parting look of it from the bridge. The pride, the scorn, the burning scorn, that boiled above, the cold, curdling anguish below,-bruised, trampled heart I plucked the blue ribbon from my breast, kissed it once as I coiled it up, and flung it into the water below me. It fell into one of the pools among the rocks, where we had used to sail our boats. I watched it till it had got under the bridge, and moved on." At Edinburgh he meets with an old college chum, who persuades him to relinquish his travelling scheme, and introduces him to his brother, a hypocritical attorney. This crafty pettifogger instils into young Wald the notion that his father's will is informal, and argues him into an attempt to set it aside. His feelings on this point are powerfully described. to gratify my vanity-and this, forsooth, this miserable only was my consolation." The will is confirmed-his cousin marries Lascelyne -and the attorney brings him in a bill of costs and charges which diminish his little fortune to a bare £100. This part of the tale is uncommonly well told, and does infinite credit to the talents of Mr. Lockhart. Wald loses the remnant of his property in a wild frolic and is left a beggar. He then turns "bear-leader" in the family of an old Baronet. Here he remains for a year-falls in love for the second time with a pale, gentle and affectionate girl, the supposed illegitimate child of the Baronet. His patron dies-the tutorship dies also he studies medicine-becomes a Doctormarries the pale "pledge of love"-finds out that she is the real lawful child of the Baronet-becomes a rich man-gets into Parliament, where he makes a speech, and a fool of himself abroad, and has the consolation to find that his dear wife has turned Methodist at home. And now we are brought back to Katharine, who has been ill-used by her husband and turned out of his house. Wald meets with her by accident, and his wife is so shocked at the sight of their interview that she miscarries, and dies. All this is most touchingly written, and cannot be read without deeply affecting every person of decent sensibility. It is in the beautiful manner of "Adam Blair," and is perhaps even more pathetic, because more natural in the incidents. Lord Lascelyne discovers the retreat of Katharine, and writes an insulting letter to Wald. He meets his lordship, who refuses to fight until after some very burning words between them. A single passage of this scene is all we can give :— 6 Se How "Friends!-Friends to see us!-Seconds, forsooth!'"Ay, sir, seconds; 'tis the rule, and I have no passion for 'Come, come singularities, whatever may be your taste.' "Let me not linger thus upon my shame. May you, -when you next fall out with some fop about a pointer, or a my boy, never know what it is to hold buried at the root of dancer, my lord-some pirouetting dancer-this puppy lea heart naturally both honest and proud, the biting, gnawI sinned against gislation will do finely. I thought we were serious." I consider, ing recollection of one act of meanness. rious! partly so, partly not, Mr. Wald. every right feeling of my nature. The thirst of revengethe 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 myself a laughable hurry of yours, Mr. Wald.' 'Laughable? ha!-was that your word?'' Ay, laughable-extremely to be flattered, puzzled, argued out of myself. Years have quite hors des regles.' The regles! — Manot softened the darkness of that inexpiable stain. Others laughable dame Francoise has taught you that pretty word, too. long ago forgave me; myself I never shall forgive. I have sometimes forgotten those things;-but never, never since-Come, come, do you wish me to spit on you-to kick you-to crush you-to hew you down like a calf?' Sir, you are a ruffian: but give me your swords went through all the parade! - how beautifully we calmly we proved the distance!-how exactly we took our attitudes! You would have sworn we were two professed fencers-and yet for me-I knew almost nothing of it-I had never tried the naked sword before but once; and you "With a thousand paltry little pretences, I half-for it was never more than this-I half-deceived myself at the know how-But after the first minute of ceremony, what a joke was all this! I rushed upon him, sir, as if I been some time. I believe I did really persuade myself, just at the horned brute. I had no more thought of guards and passes beginning, that I was attacking Mr. Mather, not my cousin. than if I had been a bison. He stabbed me thrice-thrice But as to the means of my attack-the questioning the will 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 been a knat, a nothing. At last my turn came-I spitted which the sense of guilt that I always did retain as to this 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 'Lie there, rot there, beast-!' a sincumstances, have the power of undoing what I might off it with my foot. do. I persuaded myself, therefore, that I was only seekinggle groan and his eye fixed. The Stagyrite says you cannot I began to go down the hill of life. Age has the memory hate the dead:-He never hated. 6 -I dipped my shoe in his blood. I rushed home as if I had had wings; but my courage forsook me at the threshold. entered the room where Katharine was-(she was still seated there, her child on her knee, waiting for me)-I entered it with my cloak || wrapped about me. I sat down at some little distance from them, and in silence. 'Matthew,' said she, where have you been?-what have you been about?-your looks were strange before-but now--I drew my cloak closer about Oh, Matthew-your eyes!—will you never compose yourself?' 'Never, Kate.' But now you were softening. Come hither, Matthew. Oh try if you can weep!' I drew out my sword from below the cloak-I held out the red blade before me-the drops had not all bak d yet-one or two fell upon the floor. me. Happily the observations which have been made on this ill-judged work in the House of Commons may be productive of the best effects; for if members will honestly express their opinions in their places, a new æra may have its date from this period, and a purer taste be adopted under the sanction of legislative authority. It is perhaps not the least ridiculous part of the present question, that no one will father the work. The Lords of the Treasury no doubt signed the warrant, without which nothing could have been done; but they were, we are told, too much immersed in other business to attend to the peculiar form or style the new buildings should assume, or unable perhaps to judge of more than the mere convenience likely to arise to the public by the creation of these courts. The Board of 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, blood, my cousin-blood.' 'My husband! my Lascelyne!' I heard no more. Heavens and earth! that I should write this down! One shriek-one-just one! Fainted-swooned? Dead! oh! dead. I remember no more." With this powerful passage the story ends. There is some wild fanciful writing which follows, but it is no part of the tale. From a postscript, we are told that Matthew Wald lived long and unhappily, and died beneath the roof of his paternal residence. We have nothing to add to our former praises of this volume. It is worthy of the author's fame, and the reader's curiosity. TO THE was left at liberty to destroy the venerable works of our forefathers, endeared to Englishmen by every tie which can interest the lover of antiquity, and to substitute abortions of his own, from which each labouring mason turns abashed his head." Why our public works should be confined to the Government architects I am at a loss to understand; and why the favoured few should close the door upon numbers fully competent to every undertaking which can dignify the art I can clearly understand Sir Charles Long's argument, that and the country, is a question at least worth consideration. first-rate architects will not subject themselves to competition with every youngster in the profession; but surely this should not be a reason for shutting out all the talent in the country, more especially when we see the Government 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 business 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 SIR, I CONCEIVE no apology is necessary in troubling you upon the subject of the new law courts, a matter so deeply interesting to the scientific public, and which has now afforded conversation to all classes. That this puerile work should be the acknowledged production of our professor of architecture at the Royal Academy is most strange and yet most true, and it is difficult to assign a reason for such manifest deviations from good taste emanating from his pencil. Few architects understand the principles of the art better than Mr. Soane, and yet few have sinned more grossly in carrying them into execution. Perhaps it is the rage for novelty which gives birth to these aberrations, and Mr. Soane may not unfitly be compared with Mr. Braham, frittering away by meretricious ornament, in the hope of gaining applause from the multitude, all feeling for the original theme. Both are responsible for depraving the public taste, and for injuring to the utmost of their power the soundness of principles long since laid down and acknowledged. Upon the subject of architecture, however, few perhaps are competent to give an opinion, and men withhold their judgment until some censor of acknowledged taste has attached his name to the work. Even Mr. Banks admits that he refrained from making any observations upon these new law courts until the elevation was nearly perfected, in the hope that some one more deeply read in architecture would take up the sub. ject. The evil then was done; and although every member in the house joined in reprobating the mongrel production the moment he opened his lips on the subject; yet being done, the Chancellor of the Exchequer was obliged in this place to oppose the proposition for removing the unsightly buildings on the score of expence. It is in this way our capital is daily disfigured by structures, which cause every lover of the art to turn with disgust away, and it is thus we are exposed to the reproach of foreigners, when perhaps the science was never more studied or better understood." || I taste of Mr. Soane (as some member observed, whose name have forgotten) was known and appreciated long before the sacred buildings at Westminster were trusted in his hands; and although the Governors of the Bank may be satisfied with his works, that was a very insufficient reason for allowing him to spoil our venerable hall. It is painful to reflect upon the impure productions of the present day, Our new street has been called picturesque by one, and the coachmaker's shop near Langham-place, held up as a model of good taste by another; but let the real architectural critic say, if there is a solitary feature of harmonious proportion from one end to the other. The mass of folly and absurdity opposite New Burlington-street, worthy only of a pastry-cook, is below criticism; and the new church in Langham-place deserves all the epithets which Mr. Bennet can imagine, and all the arguments he can urge, in order that it may be taken down, so that this "monster in architecture" may no longer shock the public eye. The new churches indeed afford a lamentable proof of insuffici ency on the part of our modern architects; for with the exception of Mr. Inwood's church of St. Pancras, which externally deserves much praise, but which is nevertheless more like a ball-room than a church within, (were the pews removed) where shall we look for consistency? The new church at Chelsea, modelled after King's College chapel, at Cambridge, and a church at Kennington, the production of a very young architect, may also be excepted; but, it is impossible to admit more. The churches erected in Queen Anne's reign have as high a claim to admiration as those of the present day; and the productions of Hawksmoor and Gibbs in all their variety of ugliness," are good, compared with this thing in Langham-place, one nearly as bad in Wyndham-place, and another at Wandsworth. It is time the art should be rescued from the debasement these and similar works have brought upon it; and since we have had sufficient experience as to the style in which our public buildings are going on, let us enquire what is to be done at the British Museum-what at the intended new DRAMA. VITRUVIUS. OUR critical duties for the present week are contracted into a narrow compass. Of all the weeks in the year, this is the only one which is kept as "high holiday" at every theatre in the metropolis. No amusement, no pleasure; all is instruction and painful acquirement. Thalia ceases to reign, and Minerva, for the time, becomes lady "of the ascendant." Shakspeare, Sheridan, Farley, Hook, and Grimaldi, are put upon the shelf; and Mr. Walker, the Eidouranion, Transparent Orreries, and Mr. Henry's "laughing gas," (which is the least laughable thing in the world) are brought out for the edification of the little masters and misses who have come to enjoy the holidays in town. As in duty bound, we have attended all these lectures: we have yawned with Mr. Walker, slept with Mr. Bartley, and attempted to laugh with Mr. Henry; and we confess that nothing but a sense of duty could persuade us to do it again. Not but that the lectures have much merit about them,-that the exhibitions are ingenious, and the lecturers eloquent; yet what can be more tedious and heart-wearying, than to be compelled, for three or four hours, to listen to theories of the tides-the distances of the planets-Cancer and his crab-Jupiter and his moons the Georgium Sidus-Tycho Brahe and Dr. Herschel. All these are very fine things in their proper places--that is, in the heavens, at school, college, or an astronomical Observatory; but at the Theatre, where we go to laugh and cry, to gaze at our own image," to learn the form and pressure" of the times,-and not to gaze at a phantasmagoria of spotted canvas and magic lanterns, all savouring of sober science-it is the most melancholy thing in nature. It is even worse than Mr. Hume's eloquence, Mr. Elliston's tragedy, Signor Benetti in the Opera Buffa, or Mr. Young (with an E) in anything. Thanks to the theatrical fates, Passion-week (which is enough to put the most imperturbable play-goer into a passion) lasts but a week. Then for Easter-Monday-the new pantomimes, with their fun, and the Lord Mayor's Ball, with its tragedy. Of the first, we shall giv a faithful account in justice to ourselves; of the latter we shall say nothing, in mercy to the fashion of the Minories and Little Britain. Our anxious longings for next week are the only support we can find for the dulness of the present. PAINTING OF STATUES. "Chide me, dear Stone; that I may say, indeed, Such are the beautiful lines in the "Winter's Tale," in which Leontes, when gazing on the supposed statue of Hermione, apostrophises the virtues of his lost wife. The whole of the circumstances connected with the singular || dramatic plot of concealing the lost lady under her semblance in marble, in which the life was "As lively mock'd, as ever, Still sleep mock'd death," are exceedingly beautiful, but it is not with the sentiment, but the subject, that we have at present to do. If in place of Shakspeare, which in the first place, scarcely admit of a of the bootless quarrels and cavillings, about the learning satisfactory proof in the present day, and would in the next place, be quite superfluous to the praise of his genius if they did, we should confine ourselves to his accomplishments, of which there may be less dispute, we would find ample reason to justify our admiration without searching 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 Julio Romano, with all the raptures, but nothing of the canting of a professed amateur. 3d Gent. No. The Princess hearing of her mother's statue, which is in the keeping of Paulina, a piece many years in doing, and now newly performed by that rare Italian master, Julio Romano: who, had he himself eternity, and could put breath into his work, would beguile nature of her custom, so porfectly is he her ape." The last part of the commendation is not courtly, but it tells one truth very decidedly, that Shakspeare, in opposition to some critics of later times, thought that mere likeness to the original, was of itself a very high merit in the labours of the chisel. It is not a little singular, that the practice of painting statues, which we now think of, only as a symptom of the lowest degradation of taste, should have existed very generally, as it would seem, among the most polished nations of antiquity, and from its application to their most elaborate performances, must have been considered as conducive to further effect. Under our humid atmosphere, we could have justified the usage by its utility, in defending the surface against it; but Egypt and Greece, both most congenial to the preservation of works of art, in what regards the climate, furnish specimens which leave no reason to doubt that this process was dictated by the Regles d'Art, and sanctioned by their approbation, not suggested by any necessity, to which they yielded an unwilling assent. The Sphinx which stands near one of the pyramids, upon a near examination, exhibits marks of having been originally painted. Even the statues of the Parthenon, which will be accepted as a higher authority, were originally painted and gilded, and traces of the latter process still appear on the hair of the Venus de Medici; in which case it must have been employed, not to heighten the vrai-semblance to life, which painting in some instances might accomplish, but solely for ornament and glitter. Why, indeed, it should be reckoned so monstrous, to give to statuary the various colouring which our vestments, or any other peculiarity of the individual might require, would be a discussion rather beyond the limits of this paper, which only confines its consideration to the existence of the practice. One might suppose that the same rule, if rigidly enforced, would deny to painting more than one colour, or 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 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 statuary;" and it is perhaps from something akin to this feeling, that the bust of a living friend is always accompa nied, at least in my own case, with rather an unpleasant emotion, painfully suggesting a period when I would be glad to avail myself of this last memorial. It is probably from some similar reason, that the fabulous existences of poetry, delight us so much when embodied by the chisel, because it is in fact a creation, and is to them not the badge L. 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 refers is sufficiently remote to admit the most favourable sculpture and painting, is in some measure defined by the construction on their improvement subsequently in matters capabilities of the respective arts, and that we content ourselves with those qualities in them which they are best of this kind, and may caution us against too readily yieldfitted to express. While painting assumes the wider fielding 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 costume for these venerable personages. effect of attitude, with comparatively less assistance from 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 he trusts much to the correctness of the anatomical display of the body, and that the mer tricious glare of coloured vestments could add little, if any thing, to the substantial realities of legs, arms, and muscles. That the practice of painting statues was still in observance in the time of Shakspeare, we have further authority from the play we have already quoted. It would seem that the Lady Paulina had a Gallery of Art, for Leontes says, "Your gallery Have we pass'd through, not without much content And we consider her authority therefore as admissible re- "Good, my lord, forbear; You'll mar it if you kiss it; stain your own Again, in addressing Perditta, she makes the recent paint- "O, patience: The statue is but newly fix'd, the colours That these pictorial additions to the cold marble were sup- Rut. "I'd have her statue cut now in white marble. MUSICAL SCRAP BOOK. ROYAL MUSICIANS. QUEEN ANN, THE WIFE OF JAMES I. THOMAS CUTTING was an excellent performer on the lute. In the year 1607, he was in the service of the Lady Arabella Stuart, when Christian IV. King of Denmark, begged him of his mistress. The occasion was this, Christian was fond of the lute, and Douland, whom he had taken from England, imagining himself slighted, returned, and left the King without a lutenist; in this distress Christian applied to his sister Ann, the wife of James I. and she and also her son, Prince Henry, interceded with the Lady Arabella to part with her servant Cutting, and obtained her consent. The following are the letters on the subject, the originals whereof are among the Harleian MSS:"ANNA R. "Wellbeloued cousine, We greete you hartlye well; Udo Gal, our deere brothers the King of Denmark's gentleman-seruant, hath insisted with us for the licencing your seruant Thomas Cuttings to depart, but not without your permission, to our brother's service, and therefore we wryte these few lines unto you, being assured your H. will make no difficultie to satisfie our pleasure, and our dere brother's desires; and so giuing you the assurance of our constant fauours, with our wishes for the conteneuance or conualescence of your helth, expecting your returne, we committ your H. to the protection of God. From Whythall, 9 March, 1607. 66 To our most honerable and wellbeloued "Madam, the queene's ma, hath commaunded me to signifie to your La. that shee would haue Cutting, your La. seruant, to the King of Denmark, because he desyred the Queene that she would send him one that could play upon the lute. I pray your La. to send him back with ane answere as soon as your La. can. I desyre you to cammend me to my Lo. and my La. Shrewsberry, and also not too think me the worse scriuenere that I write so ill, but to suspend your iugement till you come hither, then you shall find me, as I was ever, "Your La. louing cousin "A Madame Arbelle. QUEEN ANNE. HENRY." QUEEN ANNE was instructed in music by Giovanni Battista Draghi, and played on the harpsichord. She had a spinnet, the loudest and perhaps the finest that ever was heard, of which she was very fond. She gave directions that at her decease this instrument should go to the master of the children of the Chapel Royal for the time being, and descend to his successors in office. Accordingly it went first to Dr. Croft, and afterwards into the hands of Dr. Nares, master of the children of the Royal Chapel. MODERN MEXICO, EGYPTIAN HALL, PICCA DILLY. As a companion to the Exhibition of " ANCIENT MEXICAN MEMORABILIA," Mr. Bullock has prepared (also on the spot) a representation of Mexico in its present appearance. This exhibi KEY TO DR. HUTTON'S MATHEMATICS. for the Use of the Royal Military Academy, Woolwich, by CHARLES HUTTON, L.L D. F.R.S. With an Appendix, containing a Key to the late Edition of the Second Volume, by OLIN. THUS GREGORY, L.L.D. Professor of Mathematics at the Royal Military Academy. By DANIEL DOWLING, Master of the Mansion House Academy, Highgate.-Printed for G. and W. B. Whittaker, Ave Maria-lane. ODES OF ANACREON. Just published, in foolscap 8vo. price 6s. 6d. bds., tion consists of a Panoramic View of the celebrated city and beau- THE ODES of ANACREON of TEOS; Translated into English Verse. By W. RICHARDSON, Esq. With Notes.Printed for G. and W. B. Whittaker, Ave-Maria-lane. Just published, price 12s. bound. tiful valley of that name, taken by Mr. W. Bullock, in 1823, and the first ever offered to the public eye. In the foreground is an Indian Hut, completely furnished, and inhabited by the only Mexican Indian who has visited Europe since the natives sent by Cortes to the King of Spain. The Hut is surrounded by a garden, modelled from the most extraordinary trees, shrubs, flowers, fruits, and vegetables pro- A NEW POCKET DICTIONARY of the DUTCH and duced in the country, besides many of the living plants; and conveying a correct idea of all the luxuriancy of a tropical climate. In the room are also displayed the most interesting objects belonging to the natural history of Mexico :-quadrupeds, birds, fishes, reptiles; and specimens of vegetable life, finished in a manner so as not to be distinguishable from the singular and rich productions of the earth itself. To these are added a collection of minerals; a series of the models of the various classes of the people of New Spain, and examples of their habitations, costumes, manufactures, and useful arts. The whole, it is hoped, will furnish a perfect idea of a country hitherto little known, though now growing into so important a rank with reference to the commercial and political relations of the British empire. AN ACCEPTABLE PRESENT. THE MYRIORAMA; or, MANY THOUSAND VIEWS. ENGLISH LANGUAGES, with a Vocabulary of Proper Names, Geographical, Historical, &c. in Two Parts. 1. English and Dutch-2. Dutch and English. Carefully and properly arranged according to the present spelling adopted in Holland. By J. WERNINCK, D.D. Member of the Institute of the Netherlanda, and Minister of the Dutch Church of London. Printed for T. Cadell; G and W. B. Whittaker; Longman, Hurst. Rees, Orme, and Co.; Baldwin, Cradock and Joy; Boosey and Sons; J. Collingwood; J. Richardsen; Harding and Co.; Newman and Co.; and Simpkin and Marshall. Also, lately published, HASENDONCK'S GRAMMAR of the DUTCH LANGUAGE, 12mo. price 68. 6d. bound. In a few days will be published, I vol. 8vo. with plates. STRATFORD UPON AVON CHURCH. On the first of May will be published, No. 4, containing BAPTISMAL FONT of SHAKESPEARE, with historical notices and architectural descriptions of that ancient and interesting edifice, the Church at Stratford upon Avon, forming part of a work now in progress, being original views of the most interesting collegiate and parochial churches in Great Britain, from drawings by J. P. Neale, the engravings by J. and H. Le Keux. 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 landscapes, neatly coloured, and so ingeniously contrived that any two, or more, placed together, will form a pleasing view; or if the whole are put on a table at once, will admit of the astonishing number of 20,922,789,888,000 variations: it is therefore certain, that if a person were occupied night and day, making one change every minute, he could not finish the task in less than 39,807,438 years and 330 days. This ingenious production is admirably adapted to excite amongst young persons a taste for drawing; to furnish them with excellent subjects for imitation, and to supply an inexhaustible source of amusement. The cards are fitted up in an elegant box, price 15s. London: Printed for Samuel Leigh, 18, Strand, and sold by all Booksellers and Stationers, Just published, in 18me. price 3s. bound, SACRED BIOGRAPHY; or, the LIVES of EMINENT An HISTORICAL EPITOME of the Old and New TESTAMENTS, and part of the Apocrypha; in which the Events are arranged according to Chronological Order. By a Member of the Church of England, author of " Family Prayers upon the Creation." 24 edition, 12mo. price 6s. 6d. bound. The work is published in monthly parts, each containing four A few copies are printed highly finished views, price 4s. royal 8vo. with proof impressions of the plates on India paper, royal 4to, price 8s. Twelve parts will form a volume, and the whole will be completed in six volumes. Contents of Numbers already published:-No. I. contains three 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. III. contains two views of Little Malvern church, one view of Witney church, and All Saints' church, Evesham. London: Published for the proprietor by Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Co. Paternoster-row; Baldwin and Co.; Sherwood and Co.; and Harding, and Co. Finsbury-square; and may be had of all the Booksellers in the United Kingdom. |