GREENWICH is of manifold celebrity: its splendid Hospital, Park, and Observatory entitle it to such note; and Londoners cannot well spare its Fair from the curtailed calendar of their suburban festivals. Neither is the architecture of the Churches of Greenwich to be passed over by sight-seeing visiters; and the last built of these forms the subject of the present Engraving.

This elegant and pleasing edifice may be regarded as one of the best specimens of the adaptation of Grecian architecture to the purposes of a church. The ground plan is divided into a nave, in the usual form of a parallelogram, with a chancel at the east end, and a VOL. XVI.

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series of lobbies and a portico at the opposite extremity. The body of the church is not disposed into nave and aisles, the entire area, with the exception of a transverse portion at the west end, separated from the rest by twopiers, being open.

The superstructure is built of a clean white brick, with stone dressings, and the tower and portico are also constructed of the latter material. The west front is ornamented with a tetra-style portico of the Ionian Ionic order, raised on a flight of steps, and covered with a pediment; in the returns the epistyles are received on antæ attached to the wall of the church, and the cornice is

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A BOOKSELLER was one day seated behind the counter of his shop, and not far from him sat a stranger, by whose plump appearance, and by a certain expression in his florid, pleasant countenance, it was easy to perceive he had not particularly troubled himself with study. Quoth the bookseller, bemoaning his fate: "What a life is this! scarcely have I time to swallow in extreme haste a mouthful or two, than I am obliged to return to this poor cage, and patiently await the caprice of the ten thousand persons or more who pass this way, until it leads some of them to step in and buy a book. And when they have entered my shop, how many words do they waste ere they come to an agreement. Too dear is this book, and too bulky is the other, whilst it seems that we poor booksellers are a grasping, avaricious race, who make no ceremony of fleecing our neighbours. Now, not taking into account the money which we expend upon paper, nor that which goes for the printing and binding of books; we must pay the rent of the shop, the rogue who opens and shuts it, for the lights which are every evening burnt in it, and in short, during the year, for a thousand other things. This poor body too, condemned never to quit one spot, bound as it were like a slave to the oar, must it reckon for nothing? Now, considering the service that we booksellers render to mankind, no profession ought to meet with such encou ragement as our own. Are not our shelves the repositories of those lights, and of experience, which guide people through the darkling tracks of life? Do not they abound in all the recreations of the mind ?"

Longer might the eloquent bookseller have harangued, had not the stranger at

The translator of the following essay offers it to the readers of the Mirror, merely as an ingenious literary curiosity, believing that few persons residing in this enlightened country, and capable of enjoying books, as they may be enjoyed in England, will be disposed to assent to the propositions therein coutained.

this juncture burst out laughing; whereupon the tradesman remained in mute confusion, regarding him, and not divining the cause of his mirth, since he could not imagine how a declamation upon matters of the utmost moment to him, should be treated as a jest. However, when the stranger's laughter had a little subsided, he turned to him, and with grave simplicity demanded, "Have I said anything absurd ?"-"Yes, my friend," replied the other, "and some of the most ridiculous things that ever proceeded from the mouth of man: so long as you only quarrelled with your fortune, I compassionated you, but when you exalted your profession, I could not, as you perceived, restrain my laughter." The bookseller replied, "I know not why you should laugh at books, or wherefore you should regard them lightly, which are the nutriment of the mind, as bread and other viands are of the body." "So you fancy," answered the stranger, "and it is well, although you are ready to die of despair at having made choice of this trade; but the case is otherwise than you suppose; listen to me: would you affirm that the utility of books is real and manifest, could I certainly prove that since their introduction into the world, mankind have been much the same as they were before, or even worse?" "Prove that," replied the bookseller, “and I'll turn dancing-master at once." say," rejoined the stranger, books benefit the intellect and soul of man, and that so to do is their aim and object. Let us see then, in what manner it has been attained. Since the period in which the sciences and fine arts have been spread abroad (and doubtlessly most liberally are they dispensed by books) people have been divided into two classes, the learned, and the illiterate. Hence originates the malevolence borne by one class towards the other, that innate animosity which never existed when everybody lived, as may say, in the agreeable darkness of ignorance. Is it likely, with this continual discord in the bosoms of the living, that there should be peace in the world? Yes, even this might be patiently endured were life bettered, in at least any other respect. I am vexed, that owing to an aversion which I always felt towards books, I cannot now adduce in evidence of my opinion various states and ages of the world; but this I may safely assert, in spite of all the volumes at present ours, there are wars I understand, as there were of old, and men butcher each other now, much as they

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surmounted by a blocking course. The main building behind the portico is divided into three portions-i. e. a centre flanked by lobbies; in the centre portion are three lintelled entrances; the principal, which is in the middle, is crowned with an entablature, in which is inserted a square slab or tablet, bear ing a Calvary cross in relief. Immediately over this doorway is seen a composition of sculpture, representing the two tables of the Law borne by an angel. The ceiling of the portico is unornamented; the lobbies have arched windows on the fronts, and are finished in antis, and in elevation with an entablature continued from the portico. At the sides of this front, and forming small wings, are low walls with false entrances, apparently leading to a cemetery, which give additional breadth and value to the façade. The doors are oak, ornamented with Calvary crosses, and inscribedCRUCEM SOLVIMUR," and the piers are surmounted by urns. The tower rises from behind the centre of the portico, from a low attic answering in breadth to the central division of the front; it is made into two stories, square in plan, and composed of a plinth, and superstructure; the lower story is solid, ornamented with antæ in groups of three at the angles, and crowned with a simple entablature; in each face is a lintelled opening, filled in with weather boards. This story is surmounted by an attic. The pedestal of the upper story is pierced with the clock dials; and the superstructure is open. At the angles are piers, each composed of an anta, and two attached columns of the irregular Corinthian order of the Tower of the Winds at Athens. An entablature surmounted by a parapet, ornamented with a series of small arches, finishes the elevation. At the angles, by way of pinnacles, are square altars with flames.

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The east front in arrangement resembles the western extremity of the church; the chancel answering to the portico. In the ends of the walls of the church, and also in the extremity of the chancel, are blank windows, the flanks of the latter having small arched lights.

The view of the church from the south-west, which forms the subject in the Engraving, conveys a faithful idea of the exterior, which is characterized by simplicity and neatness, the architect having judiciously reserved his ornament for the interior. The tower, however, is far from a happy design. It must

strike every observer as an imitation of the pinnacled towers of the old English style. As such, it is very deficient in

massiveness; on the other hand, it has great claims to originality, and widely differs from the universal designs of the pepper-box genus. At the same time, it must in justice to the architect be said, that there are less faults in the present than in a vast majority of the new churches. The interior approaches to perfection. The propriety of the decorations, and the chasteness and elegance of the whole arrangements, reflect the highest credit on the talents and judgment of Mr. Basevi, the architect.

The first stone of this church was laid on the 17th of June, 1823, by her Royal Highness the Princess Sophia Matilda; and it was consecrated on the 25th of July, 1825. It is calculated to accommodate 1713 persons, of which 645 are free sittings. It was built by the parish, with the aid of private subscriptions, and the grant of 1,000l. from the Royal Commissioners.*

A BOOKSELLER was one day seated behind the counter of his shop, and not far from him sat a stranger, by whose plump appearance, and by a certain expression in his florid, pleasant countenance, it was easy to perceive he had not particularly troubled himself with study. Quoth the bookseller, bemoaning his fate: "What a life is this! scarcely have I time to swallow in extreme haste a mouthful or two, than I am obliged to return to this poor cage, and patiently await the caprice of the ten thousand persons or more who pass this way, until it leads some of them to step in and buy a book. And when they have entered my shop, how many words do they waste ere they come to an agree ment. Too dear is this book, and too bulky is the other, whilst it seems that we poor booksellers are a grasping, avaricious race, who make no ceremony of fleecing our neighbours. Now, not taking into account the money which we expend upon paper, nor that which goes for the printing and binding of books; we must pay the rent of the shop, the rogue who opens and shuts it, for the lights which are every evening burnt in it, and in short, during the year, for a thousand other things. This poor body too, condemned never to quit one spot, bound as it were like a slave to the oar, must it reckon for nothing? Now, considering the service that we booksellers render to mankind, no profession ought to meet with such encou ragement as our own. Are not our shelves the repositories of those lights, and of experience, which guide people through the darkling tracks of life? Do not they abound in all the recreations of the mind?"

Longer might the eloquent bookseller have harangued, had not the stranger at

The translator of the following essay offers it to the readers of the Mirror, merely as an ingenious literary curiosity, believing that few persons residing in this enlightened country, and capable of enjoying books, as they may be enjoyed in England, will be disposed to assent to the propositions therein coutained.

this juncture burst out laughing; whereupon the tradesman remained in mute confusion, regarding him, and not divining the cause of his mirth, since he could not imagine how a declamation upon matters of the utmost moment to him, should be treated as a jest. However, when the stranger's laughter had a little subsided, he turned to him, and with grave simplicity demanded, " Have I said anything absurd?"-" Yes, my friend," replied the other, "and some of the most ridiculous things that ever proceeded from the mouth of man: so long as you only quarrelled with your fortune, I compassionated you, but when you exalted your profession, I could not, as you perceived, restrain my laughter." The bookseller replied, "I know not why you should laugh at books, or wherefore you should regard them lightly, which are the nutriment of the mind, as bread and other viands are of the body." "So you fancy," answered the stranger, "and it is well, although you are ready to die of despair at having made choice of this trade; but the case is otherwise than you suppose; listen to me: would you affirm that the utility of books is real and manifest, could I certainly prove that since their introduction into the world, mankind have been much the same as they were before, or even worse?" "Prove that," replied the bookseller," and I'll turn dancing-master at once." say," rejoined the stranger, books benefit the intellect and soul of man, and that so to do is their aim and object. Let us see then, in what manner it has been attained. Since the period in which the sciences and fine arts have been spread abroad (and doubtlessly most liberally are they dispensed by books) people have been divided into two classes, the learned, and the illiterate. Hence originates the malevolence borne by one class towards the other, that innate animosity which never existed when everybody lived, as one may say, in the agreeable darkness of ignorance. Is it likely, with this continual discord in the bosoms of the living, that there should be peace in the world? Yes, even this might be patiently endured were life bettered, in at least any other respect. I am vexed, that owing to an aversion which I always felt towards books, I cannot now adduce in evidence of my opinion various states and ages of the world; but this I may safely assert, in spite of all the volumes at present ours, there are wars I understand, as there were of old, and men butcher each other now, much as they

"You

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