ch will hold from three to four hundred persons. The
lower part of the walls of the room is quite plain, the architect,
probably, regarding the audience as a sufficient ornament in that
quarter, though the rising of the seats would obscure carved-work if
it were there. The windows are at a considerable height from the
ground, and are of dimmed glass, with a chaste and classical border.
The ceiling, which is at a noble height, is beautifully laid out in
squares, with borderings and rosettes. An oblong opening occurs in the
centre, with massive beams stretching across, presenting to view an
erection in the roof, a form of construction, probably, necessary to
so immense a mass of roofing, and serving also for the purposes of
ventilation, as it contains windows at each end. There are four
pillars near the end of the hall, rising to the ceiling, the capitals
of which, as also those of some pilasters at the upper extremity of
the hall, are exquisitely carved in straw-coloured marble. Behind the
platform are numerous and convenient committee-rooms. The word
"Philadelpheion," which may be rendered "loving brothers," is carved
in Greek capitals over the entrance in the Strand.[1]

Exeter Hall has been erected by subscription, by a public company
established for the purpose.

[1] Ballot Newspaper.

* * * * *

WILLS OF SHAKSPEARE, MILTON AND BUONAPARTE.

(_To the Editor._)

The last wills and testaments of the three greatest men of modern ages
are tied up in one sheet of foolscap, and may be seen together at
Doctors Commons. In the will of the "Bard of Avon" is an
interlineation in his own handwriting--"I give unto my wife my brown
best bed, with the furniture." It is proved by William Byrde, 22nd
July, 1616.

The will of the Minstrel of Paradise is a nuncupative one taken by his
daughter, the great poet being blind.

The will of Napoleon, to whom future ages, in spite of legitimacy,
will confirm the epithet "le grand," is signed in a bold style of
handwriting; the codicil, on the contrary, written shortly before his
death, exhibits the then weak state of his body.

T.H.K.

* * * * *

VERNAL STANZAS.

(_For the Mirror._)

The earth displayed its robe of gorgeous hues,
And o'er the tufted violets softly stole
The downy pinions of the fragrant wind,
Which tuned the brook with music; there were clouds
O'er the blue heaven dispersed