of the distant congregation are admirable illustrations
of the vastness of the building; and above all, the flood of light shed
from the lantern of the dome is a perfect triumph of art.

The other view is the French Village of Thiers in the department of the
Puy de Doue, on the bank of the little River Durolle, which is actually
made to flow, or rather trickle over large stones; whilst smoke ascends
from the chimney of an adjoining cottage. As a romantic picture of still
life, its merits can scarcely be too highly spoken of, and when we say it
is quite equal to _Unterseen_, by the same artist, and engraved in our
last volume, we hope our readers will not be long ere they judge for
themselves. We could have lingered for an hour in the contemplation of
this peaceful picture, with the devotional interior of St. Peter's--and in
contrasting them with the turmoil of the Great Town out of which we had
just stepped to view this little _Creation_ of art.

* * * * *

THE GATHERER

A snapper up of unconsidered trifles.
SHAKSPEARE.

* * * * *

LINES

_Written impromptu, by Sir Lumley Skeffington, Bart. in the Theatre Royal,
Drury Lane, at the Benefit of Miss Foote, on Wednesday, May 10, 1826, the
last night of her engagement._

Maria departs!--'tis a sentence of dread,
For the Graces turn pale, and the Fates droop their head!
In mercy to breasts that tumultuously burn,
Dwell no more on departure--but speak of return.
Since she goes, when the buds are just ready to burst,
In expanding its leaves, let the Willow be first.
We here shall no longer find beauties in May;
It cannot be Spring, when Maria's away:
If vernal at all, 'tis an April appears,
For the Blossom flies off, in the midst of our tears.

* * * * *

THE KING'S SPEECH IN 993.

Sharon Turner, in his "History of the Anglo-Saxons," vol. iv. says, "The
King presided at the witena-gemots, and sometimes, perhaps, always
addressed them." In 993, we have this account of a royal speech. The King
says, in a charter which recites what had passed at one of their meetings,
"I benignantly addressed to them salutary and pacific words. I admonished
all--that those things which were worthy of the Creator, and serviceable
to the health of my soul, or to my royal dignity, and which should prevail
as proper for the English