Mr. Soane, the architect, upon hearing of the present condition of the pictures, said, that he in early life, while at Rome, knew that various attempts had been made for the purpose of removing oil paintings from walls, but without success, and expressed himself highly gratified at the result of the exertions of the persons who bought and removed them at no small risk and expense, viz. Mr. Lyon, 5, Apollo-buildings, East-street, Walworth, and Mr. H.E. Hall, a Leicestershire gentleman of great ingenuity; who have placed them for sale in the gallery of Mr. Penny, in Pall Mall. A CONSTANT READER. * * * * * OLD POETS. * * * * * AMBITION. Ambition is a vulture vile, That feedeth on the heart of pride, And finds no rest, when all is tried, For worlds cannot confine the one Th' other lists and bounds hath none And both subvert the mind, the state, Procure destruction, envy, hate. S. DANIELL. * * * * * HEAVEN. In this great temple richly beautified, Pav'd all with stars, dispers'd on Sapphire flower, The clerk is a pure angel sanctified, The Judge our High Messiah full of power, The Apostles his assistants every hour, The jury saints, the verdict innocent, The sentence, come ye blessed to my tent. The spear that pierc'd his side, the writing pen, Christ's blood the ink, red ink for prince's name, The vailes great breach, the miracles for men, The sight is show of them that long dead came From their old graves, restored to living fame. And that last, signet passing all the rest, Our souls discharg'd by _consummatum est_. Here endless joy is their perpetual cheer Their exercise, sweet songs of many parts. Angels their choir, whose symphony to hear Is able to provoke conceiving hearts To misconceive of all enticing art The ditty praise, the subject is the Lord, That times their gladsome spirit to this accord. TH. STOKER. * * * * * DEATH. Is't not God's deed whatever thing is done In heaven and earth? Did not he all create To die again? all ends that were begun; Their times in his eternal books of fate Are written sure, and have their certain date, Who then can strive with strong necessity, That holds the world in his still changing state? Or shun the death ordain'd by destiny, When hour of death is come, let none ask whence or why. SPENSER. * * * * * FRAUD. Fraud showed in comely clothes a lovely look, An humble cast of eye, a sober pace; And so sweet speech, a man might her have took For him that said "_Hail Mary full of grace;_" But all the rest deformedly did look. As full of filthiness and foul disgrace; Hid under long, large garments that she wore, Under the which, a poisoned knife she bore. SIR J. HARRINGTON. * * * * *