A Court Day.—A small rendering of A Levée at St. James's Palace. The Beef-eaters are on duty, and crowds of courtiers and distinguished representatives, clerical, military, diplomatic, civil, foreign, &c., are proceeding through the reception-room for the privilege of making their bow to royalty.

A Dark Prospect.—A master-sweeper and his lad are seated, on their soot-bags, by the can of a pretty and picturesquely-attired dairymaid, who has supplied the dark customers with cups of 'clean milk from the cow.'

Symptoms of a Dinner.—A meeting of dignified prelates of the Church; amongst the company are certain bigwigs, bishops, who are received with flattering deference by the lower clergy. Two eager members of the cloth, more set on the serious gratifications of a Convocation festival than the empty ceremonial courtesies of the hour, are examining a sun-dial in the foreground and comparing it with their watches, in expectation of dinner-time.

The Studio.—A painter, in Court costume, is daubing away boldly at his picture, surrounded at a respectful distance by a circle of dilettanti connoisseurs, all of whom sport spectacles or eyeglasses; these critical spectators are engaged in cold contemplation of the work before them.

Vignette.—A second group of cognoscenti, whose faces in this case express more interest and admiration, and justly so, since the work before them appeals to their tenderest susceptibilities; it is one they can all appreciate—a lively turtle, ready to be converted into real soup. A number of clergymen are following the lead of their bishop, who, excellent man, is evidently longing to bless the good things which beneficent Nature has here provided for the faithful.

Hydrophobia: the Church in Danger.—A pastor is running his hardest, pursued by a dog, which we are to suppose is suffering from rabies; the venerable prelate is doing his best to keep in advance of his pursuer, who in turn is followed by a possé of eager philanthropists, armed with pitchforks, flails, spits, pokers, choppers, shovels, and even pistols and guns, which are being discharged ineffectually, as the dog is managing to keep ahead of his would-be executioners.

The Way to Fill a Wherry.—A party, including the fair, have secured their places in a wherry at the riverside; the waterman is taking in one more customer before starting, an elephantine and venerable gentleman, whose advent has filled the occupants of the bark with alarm, the aquatic party evidently anticipating that they will be swamped at the very least by the ponderous weight of the last comer, who is vainly trying to find a seat in the boat without capsizing it.

A View of the Coast.—A village inn, with a blind fiddler and his daughter stationed upon the green outside; almost identical with the subject published by Ackermann in Rowlandson's World in Miniature (see [April 1, 1816]).

Operatives.—The title of this plate goes by contraries. Inoperatives should be the description. A pair of soakers are sunk in heavy slumber over the table of the taproom; a brace of industrious working-men, whose ambitions in the direction of exertion are limited to 'raising their elbows,' 'tilting measures,' 'reducing the liquid contents of receptacles for intoxicants,' and similar performances of an anti-temperance order.