ample granary, from whence, in time of scarcity, the poor are supplied on low terms.  Twice a week the poor are supplied with meal, at reduced prices, and with groceries at prime cost; and the average number of persons who partake this benefit is about one thousand three hundred in ordinary times, in years of scarcity very many more.  To sailors on that perilous coast Bamborough Castle is what the Convent of St. Bernard is to travellers in the Alps.  Thirty beds are kept for shipwrecked sailors; a patrol for above eight miles (being the length of the manor) is kept along the coast every stormy night; signals are made; a life-boat is in readiness at Holy Island, and apparatus of every kind is ready for assisting seamen in distress;—­wrecked goods are secured and stored, the survivors are relieved, the bodies that are cast on shore are decently interred.

Quarterly Review.

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FINE ARTS

THE DIORAMA.

On the day of the unfortunate destruction of the Oxford Street Diorama and Bazaar, by fire, two new views were opened at the Diorama in the Regent’s Park.  These are the Interior of St. Peter’s at Rome, and the Village of Thiers.

We have so often spoken in terms of the highest commendation of the Regent’s Park Diorama, that we hardly know in what set of words to point out the beauties of these new views, the merits of which must not alter our meed of praise, however the subjects may its details.  The Interior of St. Peter’s is by M. Bouton.  The point of view is at the east entry, opposite to the choir; the reader, perhaps, not being aware that the choir in this cathedral is situated differently from all others, being at the west end.  So beautiful are the proportions of the cathedral itself, that its vastness does not strike at first sight, and this effect is admirably preserved in the Diorama.  We think we could point out a few inaccuracies in the drawing; but the projections, capitals of the columns, and some of the medallion portraits which ornament them, are so well painted, that we can scarcely believe ourselves looking on a flat surface.  Again, the emmet-like figures 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.