3. _Entrance to the Village of Virex, in Italy_--a pleasing picture of what may be termed _an architectural village_; for some of the dwellings almost approach to palaces, and others have a conventual character, which harmonizes with the sublime beauties of nature which rise around them. 4. _Interior of St. Saveur, in Normandy._ As an architectural picture we are not disposed to rate this so highly as the two preceding. The alternations of light and shade are admirably managed in all of them, among which a flood of light streaming through one of the cathedral windows will be much admired. The size of each picture is 70 feet by 50--and the four may be seen for _one shilling!_ Below stairs, the fine group from Reubens's Descent from the Cross, and Albert Durer's Carvings of the Life of the Virgin Mary, still continue open. Another exhibition, _Trepado, or Cut-Paper Work_, to use a vulgar phrase, "cut out" all the work of the kind we have ever seen. We have a sister very ingenious in these matters; but her productions, compared with the cuttings of the Oxford-street Bazaar, are as John Nash with Michael Angelo. These cuttings are in imitation of Line Engraving, comprising sixteen pictures, cut with scissars, among which are the Lord's Supper--Conversion of St. Paul--The Battle of Alexander--A Portrait of his Majesty George IV., &c. They are almost the counterfeit presentment of pencil-drawings, such as Varley and Brookman and Langdon could not excel. Yet these are cut with scissars! A greater exercise of patience, to say the least of it, we scarcely know. Every one who wishes to cut a figure in the world ought to learn this art; and certain fair cutters may by this means spread even stronger meshes than these paper nets. We mean to see them again, although we have too many _cuttings_ to make for the gratification of our readers to allow us to enter into the _Trepado_ study _con amore_--and so with this recommendation, we _cut_ the subject. We, however, expect to meet scores of our Easter friends in the Bazaar; and there is no similar establishment in London where so much may be seen for so little money. The Bazaar has lately been extended for a suite of rooms for the exhibition of Household Furniture, for sale. There are already several handsome specimens--many of them fit for the splendid palaces building in the Regent's Park. If the reader be one of those who "meditate on muffineers and plan pokers," he will enjoy this part of the Bazaar. In all the Parisian bazaars, there is an abundance of _meubles_ and you get accommodated with a newspaper and a chair, as the Street-publishers say, "for the small charge of one penny:" might it not be so here, or is an Englishman obliged to read and drink (not think) at the same time?