This resigning of the town into the hands of monks was a fatal stroke to its ancient greatness. Too attentive to their own immediate interest, and too regardless of that of their vassals, as soon as they were in possession of it, they laboured, and with success, to obtain an exemption for it from supplying the king with ships, or affording him such other succour, as a large and powerful maritime town ought to have done, on the pretence of its being part of a religious estate. (_To be concluded in our next_.) [1] It appears to have been called Brighton in a terrier of lands, dated in 1660. [2] In the years 1800 and 1801, when wheat was at an unprecedented price, the occupiers of farms on the South Downs converted much of their downland into tillage, from which they acquired abundant crops of corn. The green sward when once ploughed, can never be restored to its former verdure, and although grass seeds have been yearly sown in succession for more than 80 years upon down formerly broken up and converted into arable land, the distinctions between these parts and the original down is still clearly perceptible. [3] See the remains of a Druidical altar at Goldstone (Gor or Thor stone) bottom, about a mile to the north-west of the town. [4] A Mosaic pavement has been discovered at Lancing, within nine miles west of the town. * * * * * FINE ARTS * * * * * LARGE PAINTED WINDOW OF THE CRUCIFIXION. Mr. Wilmshurst has nearly completed a fine copy, on glass, of Mr. Hilton's celebrated picture of the Crucifixion. It consists of 118 squares, 15 by 21 inches each, fitted into copper frames, in a large centre and two sides; in all 19 feet high, and 15 feet wide, intended for a Venetian window-case in St. George's Church, Liverpool. The original picture was painted for this purpose, by commission from the Corporation, in the year 1826, for which the artist received 1,000 guineas. Perhaps in all the productions of British art there is not a more appropriate subject for the embellishment of a church, than Hilton's representation of this sublime event. The countenance and figure of the crucified Saviour are admirably drawn: his placid resignation is finely contrasted with the muscular figures of the two thieves struggling in the last agonies of torture: the spike-nails and blood-drops of the hands and feet, and the title on the cross are closely preserved. The group of women at the foot of the cross, the lifeless form, drooping hand, anxious eye, and gushing tear, the terrified and afflicted populace, and the unperturbed devotional gaze of a few by-standers are too among the masterly beauties of this composition. The lights are well kept, and the entire effect of the Window is that of awe-inspiring grandeur.