J. Alexander Gunn - "Modern French Philosophy: A Study Of The Development Since Comte"

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Meriwether Lewis et al - "The Journals of Lewis and Clark"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: Life of Her Most Gracious Majesty the Queen V.1.

S >> Sarah Tytler >> Life of Her Most Gracious Majesty the Queen V.1.




Crowds almost as great as on the day of the Coronation six years before
occupied the line of route, swarming in St. James's Park and St. Paul's
Churchyard and at Charing Cross, while the Poultry--deriving its name from
the circumstance that it was once filled with poulterers' shops--was
reserved for the Livery of the City Companies. Every window which could
command the passing of the pageant was filled with spectators. The Queen,
in her State coach, drawn by her cream-coloured horses, drove through the
marble arch at Buckingham Palace about eleven o'clock. She was accompanied
by Prince Albert, and attended by Lady Canning in the absence of the
Duchess of Buccleugh, Mistress of the Robes, and by the Earl of Jersey,
Master of the Horse. The great officers of her Household in long
procession preceded her, and she was followed by an escort of Life Guards.
At this time the Queen's popularity was a very active principle, though
not more heartfelt and abiding than it is to-day. As she appeared, it is
said the words "God bless you," uttered by some loyal subject, were caught
up and passed from lip to lip, running through the vast concourse. The
simply-clad lady of the Highlands was magnificently dressed to-day, to do
honour to her City of London, in white satin and silver tissue, sparkling
with jewels. On her left side she wore the star of the Order of the
Garter, and round her left arm the Garter itself, with the motto set in
diamonds. She had at the back of her head a miniature crown entirely
composed of brilliants, while above her forehead she wore a diamond tiara.
Prince Albert was in the uniform of a colonel of artillery.

The City magnates as usual had gathered at Child's Bank, from which they
went to Temple Bar. The common councilmen were in their mazarine-blue
cloaks and cocked hats, the aldermen in their scarlet robes, the Lord
Mayor in a robe of crimson velvet, with a collar of SS, and, strange to
say, a Spanish hat and feather. In truth a goodly show. The gates of
Temple Bar, which had been previously closed, were thrown open to admit
the royal procession. The Queen's carriage drew up. The Lord Mayor
advanced on foot before the spikes on which many a traitor's head had been
stuck, and with a profound reverence offered to her Majesty the City
sword, which, the Queen touched as a sign of acceptance, and then waved it
back to the Lord Mayor. Nothing can read better, but accidents will
happen.

From Lady Bloomfield, on the authority of the late Sir Robert Peel, who
told the story in the maid-of-honour's hearing, we have additional
particulars. The Lord Mayor, in his Spanish hat and feather, was at this
very moment in as awkward a predicament as ever befell an unlucky chief
magistrate. He had drawn on a pair of jack-boots over his shoes and
stockings, to keep the mud off till the moment of action. Unfortunately
the boots proved too tight, and could not be got off when the sign was
given that the Queen was coming. One of the victim's spurs caught in the
fur trimming of an alderman's robe, and rendered the confusion worse. The
Lord Mayor stood with a leg out, and several men tugging at his boot. In
the meantime the Queen was coming nearer and nearer; she was only a few
paces off, while the representative of her good City of London struggled
in an agony with one boot on and one off. At last he became beside
himself, and cried wildly, "For God's sake put that boot on again." He
only got it on in time to make his obeisance to her Majesty. He had to
wear the detestable boots till the banquet; just before it, he was
successfully stripped of his encumbrances.

As the procession went on, the civic body fell into its place, the Lord
Mayor on horseback, where his jack-boots would not look amiss, with three
footmen in livery on each side of him, carrying the City sword before the
Queen's coach.

The Royal Exchange, at the end of the Poultry, with the Mansion House on
the right and the Bank of England on the left, has been twice burnt. Sir
Thomas Gresham's Exchange, which was built after an Antwerp model, while
it bore the Greshams' grasshopper crest conspicuous on the front, was
opened by good Queen Bess, and perished in the Great Fire of London. This
building's successor was burnt down in 1838, one of the bells which rang
tunes pealing forth, in the middle of the fire, the only too appropriate
melody, "There's nae luck about the house." In the large cloistered court
of the present Royal Exchange, the stage of this day's festivities, stands
a statue of Queen Victoria. There is an allegorical figure of Commerce on
the front of the building. The inscription on the pedestal, selected by
Dean Milman, is due to a suggestion of Prince Albert's to the sculptor,
Westmacott, that there should be the recognition of a superior Power. The
well-chosen words declare "The earth is the Lord's and the fullness
thereof."

At the Royal Exchange the body of the procession went in by the northern
entrance, only to hurry to the western door to receive the Queen. She
entered the building leaning on the arm of Prince Albert, and the royal
standard was immediately hoisted. The procession was again formed. She
set forth "in slow State" to make her circuit of the roofless quadrangle,
round the corridor and through the inner court, all in the open air. At
the foot of the campanile the bells chimed for the first time "God save
the Queen." Her Majesty went upstairs and passed through the second
banqueting-room to show herself, then walked on to the throne-room, hung
with crimson velvet and cloth, and furnished with a throne of crimson
velvet. The Queen took her seat, Prince Albert standing on her right and
the Duchess of Kent and the Duke of Cambridge on her left, Sir Robert Peel
and Sir James Graham being near. The Lord Mayor and the rest of the
Corporation formed a semicircle facing the Queen. The Recorder read the
loyal and congratulatory address welcoming his sovereign, and recalling
Queen Elizabeth's visit to open the first Exchange. Did anybody remember
the picture of the Virgin Queen with the outshone goddesses fleeing
abashed before her virtues, with which the child-princess reared at
Kensington must have been familiar?

The speaker concluded by asking her Majesty's "favourable regard and
sanction for the work which her loyal citizens of London had now
completed." The Queen returned a gracious reply, gave the Lord Mayor her
hand to kiss, and doubtless consoled him for any misadventure by
announcing her intention to create him a baronet in remembrance of the
day.

In the great room of the underwriters, ninety-eight feet long by forty
wide, a _dejeuner_ was served, at which the Queen, the Prince, the
Duchess of Kent, and the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, with other persons
of rank, including the foreign ambassadors and their wives, sat on the
dais at the cross-table. At the long table beneath the dais, among the
Cabinet ministers and their wives, members of Parliament, judges, the
Court of Aldermen, and many other distinguished and privileged persons,
sat Sir Robert and Lady Sale, in another scene than any they had known
among the defiles and forts of Afghanistan. The Bishop of London said
grace. The usual toasts, "Her gracious Majesty, Queen Victoria"--no longer
the young girl who bore her part so well at the Guildhall dinner, but the
woman in her flower, endowed with all which makes life precious--"Prince
Albert, the Prince of Wales, and the rest of the royal family," were
drunk, and replied to by the comprehensive wish, "Prosperity to the City
of London."

At twenty minutes after two the Queen and the Prince went downstairs again
to the quadrangle, in the centre of which her Majesty stopped, while the
Ministers and the Corporation formed a circle round her. The heralds made
proclamation and commanded silence; the Queen, after receiving a slip of
paper from Sir James Graham, announced in clear, distinct tones, "It is my
royal will and pleasure that this building be hereafter called "The Royal
Exchange." This ceremony concluded the day's programme, and her Majesty
left shortly afterwards. Great festivities in the City wound up the gala.
The Lord Mayor entertained at the Mansion House, the Lady Mayoress gave a
ball, the Livery Companies dined in their respective halls.

A little adventure occurred at the Opera in November, 1844. The Queen
went, not in State, or even semi-state, but privately, to hear Auber's
opera of "The Siren," when Mr. Bunn, the lessee, was found to have made
known without authority her Majesty's intention. The result was a great
house, but some inconvenience to the first lady in the land. The Queen was
called for, but declined to come forward, and for ten minutes there was a
commotion, the audience refusing to let the opera go on. At last the
National Anthem was played, the Queen showed herself, and this section of
her subjects was appeased and passed from clamorous discontent to equally
clamorous satisfaction.

During the winter Sir Robert and Lady Sale paid the Queen a visit at
Windsor, while Miss Liddell was maid-of-honour in waiting. The lively
narrator of the events of these days describes Lady Sale, as tall, thin,
and rather plain, but with a good countenance, while Sir Robert was stout.
Lady Sale told these wondering listeners, in a palace that she started
from Cabul in a cloth habit, which got wet the first day, and became like
a sheet of ice, while it was nine days before she could take it off. She
was wounded in the arm on the second day's march, the ball passing first
below the elbow and coming out at the wrist, while there were other balls
which passed through her habit; Mrs. Sturt's fatherless child, Lady
Sales's grand-daughter, was born in a small room without light and almost
without air. The captive ladies often slept in the open air on the snow,
with the help of sheepskins, half of which were under and half over the
sleepers. They washed their clothes by dipping them in the rivers and
patting the garments till they became dry. Sometimes the prisoners were
twenty-four hours without food, and when served it consisted of dishes of
rice with sheeps' tails in the middle, and melted fat like tallow poured
over them. The captivity lasted ten weary months, while the captives were
dragged from place to place, over fearful roads, amidst the snows of the
Caucasus. Lady Sale was told she was kept by Akbar Khan as a hold on her
"devil of a husband."

END OF VOL. I.