Belleman, of Antwerp; “A Roman Aqueduct at Alcala-la-Real in Spain, with a Caravan of Muleteers,” by F. Bossuet, of Brussels; and several others. The productions of our own artists are numerous, and will challenge a favorable comparison with these. Rothermel’s latest work will add greatly to his reputation. * * * * * Chromo Xylography.—The very beautiful title-page, for the July volume, which we furnish our readers in this number, is the work of Mr. Devereux, an accomplished artist of this city. This style of art is known as “Chromo Xylography,” and Mr. Devereux has certainly, thus far excelled all other artists in the beauty and delicacy of his pictures. The Lake of Como—the central design of our picture—is printed in eight different tints; and the blending of colors has all the purity of painting. When it is considered that this effect is produced by _printing_ from eight different blocks, we may consider this picture an achievement, and highly creditable to its designer. * * * * * True Paris Fashions.—We resume with this number, our Paris Fashions, which our subscribers will at once see are far superior in beauty of design and coloring to any that have appeared in Graham for a long time. The order for this plate we sent to Paris the moment we ascertained that we should again become the exclusive conductor of “Graham,” and our agent is instructed to forward _one each month_, from the best houses there, to appear _simultaneously_ with the same designs in Paris. We thus furnish our colored plate—_one month_ in advance of even wood-cut fashion plates—and at least _two months_ earlier than those which are re-engraved and colored in this country. This single feature of “Graham” renders it superior to any work in this country, in regard to embellishments. * * * * * OURSELF. If blushes were transferable, our face in the magazine for this month, should, we suppose, be like a maiden’s before the ardor of her first lover—but steel is as unsusceptible as brass, we find; so, with a very unconscious air, we shall brave the battery of bright eyes, impervious to a frown. As to our Memoir, by Mr. Peterson—the veritable Jeremy Short—it is done in his most amiable vein; and though not exactly the history of the Wandering Jew—being rather that of Barnaby Rudge’s Raven, crying continually, “Never say die”—our readers may take it with the grains of allowance which should be given to a vigorous writer with a fine imagination, who is determined to make a hero.