the river below, is one in which SALVATOR ROSA himself might have rejoiced.

Left of north door-Copy of a Portrait, from a picture in the Dresden gallery, by Bertie Greatheed, Esq.

Right of door, above-Moonlight, by Sir G. Beaumont. Right of door, below- Venus and Adonis, by C. Netscher. Left of south door-Charles, Sixth Duke of Somerset, in his robes, by Sir Godfrey Kneller.

Right of south door-Duke of Ancaster, by Mason Chamberlain.

Left of west door, above-Forest Scene, Salvator Rosa. Rocks and stunted trees; powerful effect of light and shadow. Below-Landscape, by Jacob Ruysdael; "the ground is agreeably broken, the skies clear, trees delicately handled, every leaf distinctly touched, and with great spirit."

Right of door-Portrait of Duchess of Ancaster, by Sir Godfrey Kneller. Kneller was born at Lubeck, about 1648, studied under Bol and Rembrandt, came to England in 1674, became the rival of Lely, and at his death the fashionable portrait painter: he painted many good portraits, but unfortunately attended more to fortune than to fame, and he succeeded in his pursuit; he died at London, 1702.

DINING ROOM.

Left side of fire-place-Portrait of the Hon. Charles Bertie, Envoy of Charles II, in Germany, by Sir Peter Lely.

Right side-Lady Jonas, wife of the Hon. Charles Bertie, a companion to the above, and by the same master.

Over the fire-place-A large and beautifully transparent picture, by Snyders, A Heron and Falcons.

Right of the fire-place, enclosed by the panelling, on

which hangs the portrait of Mrs. Bertie, is the celebrated picture by the late Mr. Greathead-The Cave of Despair; it is of very large dimensions, and embodies all the terrific conceptions of the old poet-a monument of immortality both to painter and poet; the design is magnificent, and the execution equal to the design; it is an embodiment of the following passage in the Fairie Queen of Spencer, which we copy, as the poet alone is able to describe the picture, and the painter alone enabled to embody the horrifying conception of the poet :

"Ere long they come, where that same wicked wight

His dwelling has, low in an hollow cave,

Far underneath a craggy cliff ypight.
Darke, dolefull, dreary, like a greedy grave,
That still for carrion carcases doth crave:
On top whereof ay dwelt the gastly owle,
Shrieking his balefull note, which ever drave
Far from that haunt all other cheerfull fowle;
And all about it wandring ghostes did wayle and howle.

And all about old stockes and stubs of trees,
Whereon nor fruit nor leaf was ever seen,
Did hang upon the ragged rocky knees;
On which had many wretches hanged beene,
Whose carcases were scattered on the greene,
And throwne about the cliffs. Arrived there,
That bare-head knight, for dread and doleful teene,
Would faine have fled, ne durst aprochen neare;
But th' other forst him staye, and comforted in feare.
That darksome cave they enter, where they find
That cursed man, low sitting on the ground,
Musing full sadly in his sullein mind:
His griesie lockes, long growen and unbound,
Disordred hong about his shoulders round,
And hid his face; through which his hollow eyne
Lookt deadly dull, and stared as astound;
His raw-bone cheekes, through penurie and pine,
Were shronke into his iawes, as he did never dine.

His garment nought but many ragged clouts,
With thornes together pind ard patched was,
The which his naked sides he wrapt abouts;
And him beside there lay upon the gras

A dreary corse whose life away did pas,
All wallowed in his own yet luke-warme blood,
That from his wound yet welled fresh, alas!

In which a rusty knife fast fixed stood,

And made an open passage for the gushing flood."

Right of the window-Fruit and Flowers, by Mario di Fiori; a good composition by this master, whose works are much esteemed for their elegant disposition and astonishing resemblance to nature. He was born at Penna, 1603, and died at Rome, 1673.

Right of north door, above-Mrs. Ayscough, by Maria Verelst; a pretty portrait, finished with spirit yet great delicacy of touch, and the drapery very neatly arranged.

Over the side door-Dead Game; a pretty little natural picture, by David Coninck, the pupil of Jan Fyt.

On the side-board-A beautiful equestrian statue, in bronze, of the great Duke of Cumberland.

The views from these windows are much more confined than from those on the river front; yet the unfading verdure of the firs forming the avenue- -the redundant foliage of the majestic trees-the brilliant colours of the unusually large and flourishing Rhododendrons, which clothe the slopes the picturesque gateway, with wild creepers climbing to the summit, then dropping in fanciful festoons-give a beauty, all its own, to this circumscribed view.

SMALL DINING ROOM.

This room is adorned with the paintings of the late Mr. Greatheed, a sanctuary as it were of departed genius, a * genius soaring far above his contemporaries, till

"The spoiler came; and all his promise fair
Has sought the grave, to sleep for ever there."

Passionately attached to the pictorial art, he pursued it on the continent, amidst a nation convulsed within itself, and arrayed in hostility against Great Britain. Yet even there his genius and talent procured him, unsought, the protection and admiration of that ruling spirit of the age, Napoleon Buonaparte; through whose favour he was enabled in safety to traverse those favoured regions of art on the continent, from which, at that period, Englishmen generally were excluded; he pursued his career in the study he loved, till death overtook him at Vicenza, in Italy, at the early age of 22, October 8, 1804. His pictures prove his conception to have been magnificent-his copying almost unequalled his pencilling bold and fine-his colours brilliant, deep, and natural-his lights and shadows beautifully contrasted his subjects happily chosen-and we cannot but regret that the early hopes of his friends, the high expectations of the lovers of the fine arts, and his own immortal fame, should have been blighted by the early stroke of death.

Over the fire-place-King Lear and his Daughter, with the Physician and Kent, embodied from the following passage:

66- Do not laugh at me,

For, as I am a man, I think this lady
To be my child, Cordelia."

Left of fire-place-Bertie Bertie Greatheed, Esq., author of "The Regent," a tragedy, written for Mrs. Siddons.

Left, beyond-The Duke of Ancaster, dressed as an old English gentleman; a beautiful portrait, the countenance beaming with benevolence and good humour.

Right of fire-place-Portrait of Napoleon Buonaparte,

in 1803. This portrait is considered the most correct likeness of him in existence; yet the only opportunities the artist had of taking the portrait was afforded at the public audiences, when it is said he took a sketch on his thumb nail, from which this faithful likeness of that "master spirit," who overthrew kingdoms and gave away crowns with the liberality of a spendthrift, owes it origin. Madam Buonaparte was so much struck with it, that she declared it to be the strongest likeness of her son that she ever saw. Right, beyond-Shylock, pointing with a knife in his left hand to the seal on a bond held in his right, exclaiming—

"Till thou can'st rail this seal from off my bond, Thou but offend'st thy lungs to talk so loud!" The cold, determined, revengeful hatred of the Jew is forcibly drawn; almost can we be persuaded we hear him exclaim-·

"I'll not be made a soft and dull-eyed fool,

To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield

To christian intercessors." "I'll have my bond!"

The conception in this picture is exceedingly fine, the pencilling bold, the tone and colour good, and it may be said, (which is saying much,) it is perhaps second to no picture he has painted.

On the east wall-Copy of the St. Jerome, of A. Corregio; a very fine copy of Corregio's beautiful picture, "which exhibits the Virgin seated with the Child on her knee, Mary Magdalen kneeling and embracing the Infant's feet, while St. Jerome offers a scroll to the attending angel." The original was painted for the Cathedral at Parma, but torn from that city during the French revolution, and carried to Paris, by those modern vandals, in spite of the prayers and entreaties of the inhabitants: it has since, however, been restored to the city. The colours are beautifully vivid,