clusion of all faithful and accurate resemblances. Many centuries must pass away before an opportunity similar to that produced by the sudden and unexpected removal of the ball and cross, can present itself to favour the consummation of a similar design. This stamps the View of London by Mr. Hornor as perfectly unique. By a mechanical apparatus of extraordinary power invented by himself, and the construction also of a comprehensive key-sketch, he was enabled to overcome those obstacles which must otherwise have formed an insuperable barrier to the accomplishment of his object. All these indicate great ingenuity of contrivance and exhaustless perseverance in our artist, whose spirited ambition was not to be subdued in the lofty station he had taken, although opposed in his eventful progress by the elements themselves. The arduous ness of an undertaking, requiring daily visits to so elevated a place amidst the many inconveniencies necessarily to be encountered, may better be imagined, on referring to our engraving of the scaffolding and observatory from whence the view was taken." It is scarcely necessary to add, that Mr. Hornor must with reference to the apparatus itself, the additional scaffolding, the observatory purposely erected upon it, &c. have incurred an enormous expenditure, independently of the devotion of his valuable time for many years in collecting surveys and sketches as materials for his great work. The laborious toil, which he had daily to undergo, in ascending the infinite staircases and ladders to reach his aerial habitation, independently of the danger of a journey so often repeated, would have damped the ardour of most men. Few artists, however enthusiastic, profess the requisite courage and physical ability to encounter such herculean labour, attended with such imminent personal risk. But our readers will form a better conception of Mr. Hornor's impressions from his own characteristic description. "On entering the cathedral at three in the morning, the stillness which then prevailed in the streets of this populous city, contrasted with their mid-day bustle, was only surpassed by the more solemn and sepulchral stillness of the cathedral itself. But not less impressive was the development, at that early hour, of the immense scene from its lofty summit, whence was frequently beheld the Forest of London, without any indication of animated existence. It was interesting to mark the gradual symptoms of returning life, until the rising sun vivified the whole into activity, bustle, and business. On one occasion the night was passed in the observatory, for the purpose of meeting the first glimpse of day; but the cold was so intense, as to preclude any wish to repeat the experiment. "In proceeding with the work, every assistance was readily afforded by the gentlemen connected with the cathedral; and, through their kind attention, all possible precautions were taken for the prevention of accidents to be apprehended in such an exposed situation. But the weather was frequently so boisterous during the stormy summer of 1821, as to frustrate the most judicious contrivances for security. Indeed scarcely a day passed without derangement of some part of the scaffolding, or machinery connected with it; and so strong became the sense of danger arising from these repeated casualties, that, notwithstanding the powerful inducement of increased remuneration, it was difficult on these emergencies to obtain the services of efficient workmen. This will not appear surprising, when it is known that, during the high winds, it was impossible for a person to stand on the scaffolding without clinging for support to the frame-work; the creaking and whistling of the timbers, at such times, resembled those of a ship labouring in a storm, and the situation of the artist was not unlike that of a mariner at the masthead. During a squall, more than usually severe, a great part of the circular frame-work of heavy planks, erected above the gallery for the prevention of accidents, was carried over the house-tops to a considera ble distance. At this moment a similar fate had nearly befallen the observatory, which was torn from its fastenings, turned partly over the edge of the platform, and its various contents thrown into utter confusion. The fury of the wind rendered the door impassable; and, after a short interval of suspense, an outlet was obtained by forcing a passage on the opposite side. By this misfortune, independently of personal inconvenience, considerable delay and expense were occasioned ere the work could be resumed; and it became necessary to provide against similar misfortunes, by securing the observatory to a cross-beam, and constructing a rope fence. Thus fortified, the work was proceeded in without any other accidents of a nature worthy to be noticed, until all the sketches which could be taken from the observatory were completed. These sketches, comprising 280 sheets of drawing paper, extend over a surface of 1680 square feet; a space which will not appear surprising, when considered as including a portion of almost every public building and dwelling-house in the metropolis, with all the villages, fields, roads, villas, rivers, canals, &c. visible from the summit of the Cathedral.f To insure the most perfect accuracy in the detail as well as in the general features, the concluding step was to collate these sketches with many of the individual objects; for though the linear situation of each was correctly represented from the point of view, yet, to preserve with fidelity the aerial perspective, it was necessary to be thoroughly acquainted with all the retiring distances; the number and bulk of the sketches were such as to require a carriage to be expressly constructed for their conveyance, and several weeks were occupied in these perambulations.' It appears that "Preparatory to the engraving a reduced drawing of four parts was made bearing the proportion of one tenth to the original outline, every care being taken to preserve that accuracy which has been the pervading principle of the design." The work is to consist of four engravings, accompanied with four descriptive key sheets, with references to the multifarious objects contained in each view. The first, commencing with the east end of St. Paul's church yard, extending down Cheapside to the heart of the city: beyond, to the Tower, the Docks, the wide expanse of the Plaistow Levels, and near to Gravesend. Tracing the Thames upwards from Greenwich, which, with its national edifice forms an interesting point, are seen the beautiful windings of that river, its various masses of shipping, and the immense establishments that line its banks. Towards the south part of the Borough, Bermondsey, the high grounds, and numerous villas of that portion of Kent, terminating with Shooter's Hill are seen: and to the north-east, the ranges of streets aud public edifices towards Finsbury Square, with Hackney, Clapton, leading to the fine wooded uplands of Epping Forest, to Havering Bower. This View in the nearer and more conspicuous portions of it, relate to the great City itself, and presents a faithful portrait of its public buildings, with their varied architecture, including portions of thousands of the houses and the lines of its principal streets, and the towers and spires of its numerous churches. The second, includes the north-side of St. Paul's church yard, the Public School of Christchurch, St. Bartho An accident somewhat more perilous befel Mr. Gwynn, when occupied in measuring the top of the dome, for a section of the Cathedral. While intent on his work, his foot slipped, and he slided down the convex surface of the dome, until his descent was fortunately obstructed by a small projecting piece of the lead. He thus remained until released from the danger which threatened him, by one of his assistants, who providentially discovered his awful situation. To give a familiar illustration of the multitude of objects correctly introduced into this View, it may be sufficient to remind those who have explored the environs of London, that every building, garden, park, or other inclocure, indeed almost every tree and bush, commanding a view of the Cross of St. Paul's, will, according to their relative proportions, find their place in the delineation. lemew's Hospital, the area of Smithfield, with the avenues thence diverging; in the middle distance, the Charter House and gardens, Artillery Ground, Old Street, part of the City road, new establishments on the banks of the Regent's Canal, Clerkenwell, Cold Bath fields, Pentonville, Islington, Hoxton, Kingsland, Highbury, Stoke Newington, Stamford, and Muswell Hills. Beyond, a portion of Epping Forest, with the high grounds eastward, towards Enfield, and the neighbouring parts of Hertfordshire. The third view opens with the south side of Saint Paul's church yard, including part of Thames Street, St. Andrews and Bennet's Hills, with the Herald's College; all the adjacent churches, &c. Southwark Bridge, and Bankside from St. Saviour's church, to the end of Blackfriar's bridge. In the middle distance are seen a large portion of the Borough, with the line of Blackfriars' road, also the Greenwich and Kent roads, shewing the situation of the intermediate public buildings. The more distant parts comprize Kensington, South Lambeth, Newington, Camberwell, Peckham, &c. the fine woods of Dulwich, Norwood, with the surrounding country and its numerous villas. The characteristics of the fourth or West view are the beautiful expanse of the Thames, the four great bridges, the Abbey, Houses of Parliament, the Palaces and Parks, Squares and Streets forming the west end of the town. The middle ground presents a multitudinous mass of buildings, including the various Inns of Court, Foundling Hospital, and its adjacent Squares, the British Museum, extending to St. Pancras, Somers' and Camden towns. The southern part of this ground comprises a large portion of Lambeth, to Vauxhall Gardens. The river here unfolds an additional interesting feature, from the distinct view of Blackfriars', Waterloo, Westminster and Vauxhall Bridges. On its banks may be particularly noticed, Somerset House, and the Adelphi, with their beautiful terraces, and the succession of noble private residences. From thence we may trace Whitehall, the Horse Guards, Admiralty, &c. Further westward, are the Milbank Penitentary, a portion of Chelsea, with its College, the range of new buildings towards the palace of Buckingham house, the Parks, west end of the town, Regent's Park and Primrose hill. Northward, are seen the favourite villages of Hampstead and Highgate, including a correct delineation of almost every house commanding even a glimpse of St. Paul's, terminating with many of the prominent features of Hertfordshire, Middlesex and Surrey. Thus will be given a perfect representation of the great metropolis with its distinguished port, and of the environs by which it is adorned. A more detailed analysis of the contents of these "panoramic views," which will very soon be published, would include a description of every interesting building and rural beauty in and around the metropolis; and our limits will not allow us to do justice to this truly national undertaking, an undertaking so well imagined and executed that it confers equal honor on the ARTIST, his COUNTRY, and the FINE ARTS. EPISTLES BY MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS. No. II. From MARY to the CARDINAL OF LORRAIN, and her other surviving Uncles. Dated March, 1565, ; Too long my mournful strain has told of hate, But now a different theme demands my lay; Can I forget the hour when first I view'd Where youth's soft prime with manhood's seems combin'd, Though princely suitors seek this hand to gain, * Her Uncle, the Duke of Guise, was assassinated in 1562-3. Eur. Mag. Feb, 1823. But, gentle friends, forgive, while Mary's heart Think not, however, passion rules the hour, Nor here the wisdom of this union ends, But fiercely frowning on their Sovereign's choice, While England's Queen, the mask at length thrown by, As I that winning smile-that brow survey'd; An historical fact. |