I should not have delayed so long answering your interesting letter, if I had not been almost in daily

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expectation of some part of the information which you was so anxious to obtain on the subject of Salvator Rosa’s writings and musical compositions. All that I have yet received was, the day before yesterday, in a letter from the Abate Cancilliari to M. Molagoni, one of Cardinal Gonsalvi’s secretaries. I enclose you what he says. The answer from Baini, about his musical compositions, I have not yet received. Cammuccini told me that there only remained at Rome two undoubted pictures of Salvator Rosa, and that there were two small landscapes at Palazzo Spada. The picture which you mention at Palazzo Chigi, they seem ignorant of, or to doubt its being what you represent it. The same of La Lucrezia. I wish that I could have been of more use to you; and I shall be anxious to see the Life of Salvator Rosa when it is published. General Cockburn is still here; and I have told him how difficult it is to obtain any of the works which you mention. I was told that some sonnets were published; but I went to De Romani’s, and he had them not. If anybody can procure the music, it is Baini. I am very glad that you are not unoccupied; and I can easily conceive the interest which you have taken in writing the life of so extraordinary a genius.

We have had a severe winter for Rome; and even to-day, though very fine here, we saw snow on the Alban Hill. A Marchesa Farra Cuppa has begun an excavation at Torneto, ancient Tarquinia, which has excited a great degree of interest. A warrior with his lance and shield was discovered entire, but the first blast of air reduced it to dust. She gave me part

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of his shield. A small vase of a beautiful form and two very large oxen are, I believe, coming to the Vatican Museum. The antiquity of them is calculated at three thousand years. Other excavations are making by some proprietors at Roma Vecchia. The first fouille produced a beautiful mosaic statue of a fine stag, in black marble. I feel gratified that my Horace’s satire is approved of. Pray are there in it two of Pinelli’s engravings and compositions to the Latin text? If not, I will send them you by General Cockburn. I beg my best compliments to Sir Charles,

I send you all that I can recollect about Salvator Rosa’s pictures. I must have some account in town

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of all those I have seen, or liked, abroad; but now I can only quote from memory. Lady Morgan will, of course, have much better information, both from books or her own observations, than any I can send. Boydel’s engravings, and Richardson’s and Pond’s, give some of the finest pictures in England. With respect to the Duke of Beaufort, he has no pictures of any kind now (but family portraits); and I much doubt any of any great reputation having, at any time, been purchased in Italy, unless Lady Morgan is very sure of the fact. I could easily find out by applying to the Duke, if she wishes it. The second and third Dukes of Devonshire were both great collectors of gems, precious stones, books, pictures, drawings, prints, &c., and the Salvators at Devonshire House were bought by them: I think by the third. Jacob’s Vision is, I believe, reckoned the finest; but I like the large landscape at Chiswick, which was bought by Lord Burlington, the best. It is the fashion now to run down all the pictures at Devonshire House and Chiswick; but I do not believe justly. Amongst the number, there may be some bad; but I would back Sir Joshua Reynolds’ and West’s opinions and my own eye, though I am no judge, against modern critics. My brother had two, Zenocrates and Phryne, still at Roehampton, and a smaller one, which you must recollect, Jason and the Dragon; the figure in armour, spirited and graceful, like all Salvator’s, and the rocks almost as natural as at Sorrento, and the cave where he studied; both have been, I think, engraved by Boydel. The former was bought by my grandfather,

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at the sale of the old Lord Cholmondeley; the latter has had rather a remarkable fate, having belonged to two of the richest men in England, in the possession of both of whom it seemed likely to remain; and, indeed, in my grandfather’s it seemed tolerably secure, though he was not quite in that predicament. He bought it at the sale of the Duke of Chandos, in Cavendish Square. It was afterwards sold to Mr. W. Smith, and, at his sale, travelled back again in the possession of Watson Taylor to its old habitation in Cavendish Square,—likewise purchased by Watson Taylor. It is now shortly to be sold again with his pictures; but I hope Lady Morgan will not puff it before its sale takes place, as I have great thoughts of squeezing out all I can possibly afford, to try and get it back again, though it does seem to porter malheur. She, of course, knows of the Belisarius still at Raynham. It was given by the King of Prussia to Lord Townshend when Secretary of State. There were formerly two (if not three) very large pictures by him at Lansdowne House, left by the late Lord Lansdowne to the Dowager, and sold by her. I have some idea the present Lord Lansdowne bought them back. I only remember the subject of one of them,—Diogenes: fine, but not a pleasing picture. It has been etched by Salvator Rosa himself, together with three other large ones; but I forget whether either of the other two I mentioned at Lansdowne House are amongst them. The four are these,—Diogenes; Regulus, formerly at the Colonna Palace, at Rome, but not there now. I have seen it, but forgotten where; the Battle of the

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Giants and the Child exposed;, hanging on a most beautiful tree. They are generally bound up with his etchings of groups and single figures. Lord Ashburnham has, I believe, St. John preaching in the Wilderness. The Prodigal Son travelled to Petersburgh with the Houghton collection. Two very fine sea views at the Pitti Palace, and the Witch of Endor, formerly at the Garde Meuble et Versailles, and now, I suppose, in the Louvre. I find one at Lord Derby’s. Prince Ramoffski showed me a card at Vienna, in the lid of a snuff-box, on it a very pretty sketch by Salvator Rosa, which he is said to have done one day that he called on a friend who was out, to show him he had been there. They tell pretty much the same story of Michael Angelo at Rome. There is, at Rome, a painter who paints Claudes and Salvators for the use of the forestieri in a most extraordinary manner, and has taken in numbers of us.

I have at last got into the Chigi palace. The Duchess of Devonshire was there the same day, and

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took Camacini with her (a first rate artist), and we saw the picture of the Satyr and Philosopher, and formed the following verdict—

Done by Salvator Rosa no more Than by Jacky Poole or Lord Glandore.

From Croker’s ill-natured lines on one of our poor friend J. Atkinson’s plays. The Philosopher, not like any print I ever saw of Rosa, and there is no other picture in the palace or in Rome even reported to be a portrait of him.

The Duchess also took Camacini to the capitol to see the Magi, called Salvator Rosa’s; our verdict, a vile performance, not worth sixpence, and certainly not done by Rosa,—and appeal against this if you please. There are two magnificent and genuine pictures of his here, one in the Colonna Palace, Prometheus chained to the Rock, and the Vulture devouring him, horribly well done. The other is an altar-piece in the church of St. John, Dei Fiorestini; namely, the Martyrdom of Sts. Cosmos and Damian on the pile, but the fire, instead of burning them, by a miracle, burns their persecutors, which it would not have done, had such unbelievers as you and Sir Charles been on the pile; and old Sardinia would willingly have you both on such a pile if he could, and en attendant, he burns your Italy whenever he can lay hold of a copy. I wish the old rascal and the two Ferdinands, Naples and Spain, were to suffer martyrdom,—but I should be content to hang or throw into the sea,—not liking torture. I saw the librarian this day, at the Vatican, and he swears as hard as any

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Pat ever did before Baron Boulter—that Salvator Rosa left no music, at least, none in the Vatican.

I hope you will not impute it to me that your questions are not answered; the truth is, I am in the country, enjoying this most beautiful time of year, and my brother has written me word that he will make all the inquiries you desire, but how soon this may be I cannot tell. Lord Cowper will write down on paper about one only. The two at Panshanger are landscapes in the

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usual dark, abrupt style. The one at Chiswick, much larger, is reckoned very fine; there is a famous Belisarius there, but I do not think they know who it is by; the Soldier in Armour and the old Belisarius are quite beautiful,—can this be a Salvator? The Phryne you name, has reddish, or rather, yellow hair, and is by no means decent in her drapery. I never could endure that picture; it is not, I fancy, at Roehampton now; there was a very fine one there besides, which my brother will name to you. I must try and see the one you mention; but it is not this month that I can do anything beside staring at the flowers and trees. All this is very unsatisfactory, therefore, only consider this letter as a kind of apology for my delay. You shall hear more soon.

My sister sends me this letter to forward to you, and apologizes for not having done your commission earlier, because she was in the country. I must do the same, because I am in town, and really have had my time completely taken up by business; besides, as you must know, the great houses from which our information is to be obtained, are not always the most easy of access. Not to lose more time than necessary, I thought it better to write direct to you and recall to your recollection our old Dublin and Priory acquaintance, than send any little information I might be able to glean round by Brocket. As for Phryne, I cannot say I ever was much struck with the modesty and decency of her attire and countenance. She and

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the philosopher appear to be engaged in a very warm argument, but she does not exhibit herself as she did to the Grecian painter on the sea shore, nor has she recourse to the expedient she made use of to melt the stern hearts of her judges. There is nothing eloquent in the picture, however, and it is not one which I ever thought very pleasing; this is still in Lord Bessborough’s possession at Roehampton. The Jason was sold, and was a most beautiful picture, full of all the bold and wild character of Salvator’s landscapes, and the grace which I think he usually shows in his figures, though Sir Joshua Reynolds says no. The Russian prince’s name is Ramoffski. The Duke of Beaufort has a curious picture by Salvator Rosa, at Badminton, but I do not recollect seeing it, though I have often been there. I will enquire more particularly as to the subject the first time I see him, but the story is that it was painted to ridicule the pope and cardinals, and that he was banished from Rome in consequence. I think Phryne’s hair is light. The Belisarius is still in Lord Townshend’s collection at Raynham, and was given to the Secretary of State of that family, by the King of Prussia. The Belisarius my sister mentions at Chiswick, is of doubtful origin, but never claimed Salvator Rosa as brother, and could not be listened to in any court if sworn to him. It has been sometimes said to be by Vandyke (and is stated so in the engraving I think) sometimes by Murillo, and is a very fine picture. I do not know where the Giants are, nor the Child Exposed, whom I believe to be Œdipus. I will make enquiry concerning Lord Lansdowne’s, Lord

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Ashburnham’s, and Lord Morpeth’s pictures. Those at Devonshire House are the Jacob’s Vision, with the angels ascending and descending by the ladder to and from heaven, one of Jacob and the Angel wrestling; and another, landscape, with huge trees and rocks, with soldiers reposing on them. There is a large landscape at Chiswick. His letters are curious, and I believe rather difficult to be met with now. Would not a new edition, with some observations on them, form a good second volume of his life. I fear I have but very inefficiently executed your commission, but beg leave to assure you that it is not from want of inebriation.

I send you a list of the pictures which are known to be Salvator Rosa’s, and those that are attributed to him. You will see what you attribute to the ignorance or indifference of Prince Chigi to the treasure which he possesses, is a proof of his being neither ignorant

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nor indifferent, but convinced that the picture did not deserve to be classed as the performance of that great painter, and discouraging its being called his.

I have taken with pleasure all the pains necessary to procure you the information which you wanted, but do not be offended if I say that I should have felt still more pleasure in doing so were you less unjust to this country; fallen they are certainly in power, but not in intellect, or talent, or worth of every kind; and your stay in Italy was far too short to admit of your appreciating them as your own undoubted talent would have enabled you to do, had you staid longer and derived your information from other sources. You said to me once, that were you to write your journey in France again, that you should write it very differently. I am sure you would say the same were you to come again into Italy; every monument of antiquity is attended to with the greatest care, and every picture that requires it is either cleaned, or noted down to be so. The commission of five attend on every new discovery to give their opinion as to the merit of what is found, and most productive have this year’s excavations proved to be in sculpture. Mosaic repairs go on, and new buildings in every part of Rome, and the Braccio Nuovo alone merits, in the Duke of Devonshire’s opinion, that one should come from London to Rome were it only to see that beautiful new museum, begun and completed by a pope from the age of seventy-nine to eighty-two!

I know not any capital so adorned by its sovereign as this is. To know with certainty the different ob-

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jects, there is a catalogue by Signor Camacini; of all the classical pictures in the churches, and galleries, and palaces,—of all those that deserve citation,—of all the frescoes, outward and inward,—of the different houses which are classical or rare. We are often apt to think things are unknown because we have fancied them valuable on the authority of Vasi, or a lacquey de place, and find the owner scarcely knowing of their existence; Vasi and the lacquey having given an assumed name, and the proprietor, like Prince Chigi, who is a man of taste, of science even, and of elegant literature, is called ignorant because he disclaims the assumed merit given to his picture. Prince Chigi has a small gallery of excellent pictures and statues, and the Filosofo was shown me on my request, because put by as not Salvator’s. He has the famous Cicero, and a cameo with the last battle of Alexander the Great; these the Prince shows himself.

Baini is living, he is a man of great musical science, he composed a fine Miserere, which was sung this year; but Salvator improvised his compositions, and no written ones can be found. Monseigneur Mai made diligent search for me, but in vain. If I can be of any further use to you, pray write to me. General Cockburn is still at Rome.

Events of the day are passing which may deserve blame, but the efforts,—the heroic efforts which the Greeks have made and are making, are worthy of all our admiration, and will end, I hope, by restoring that interesting country to its situation in Europe. There is matter to animate your genius, and I hope you will

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turn your thoughts to something that may tend to do justice to this long oppressed and calumniated people. And, my dear Lady Morgan, I must add, in praise also of my dear Rome, that the Greek fugitives were received in Ancona, and fed and lodged there. This is true tolerance.

Once more adieu, my dear Madam, and pray let me know when your life of Salvator Rosa will appear; I have no doubt of the success which it will meet with.

In the absence of Sir William Betham, I beg leave to state for your information, that on Tuesday last the judges of England assembled at the house of Lord Chief Justice Dallas, in London, in pursuance of the royal mandate, to take into consideration and decide upon the disputed power of the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland to confer the honour of knighthood. Two of the number were unable to attend from illness; but the other ten were of opinion unanimously that the Lord-Lieutenant did possess the power, and that knights created by him were knights throughout the world.

I expect the return of Sir William Betham from England in the course of this week, when the above solemn decision will be given to the public in a man-

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ner equally notorious as the doubts of the Lords of the Admiralty which originally occasioned the discussion.

I have been much annoyed to-day by a paragraph in two papers about my turning a woman out of doors—pray if you see or hear of it, contradict it. As I hope for mercy, it is a most shameful falsehood made by a very wicked girl because I sent her away. She came to me as Agnes Drummond, a spinster, and ten days after hid a man in Brockett Hall; the servants, in an uproar, discovered him in the evening; he said first his name was Drummond, then Fain—it was natural we should desire him to walk out, in particular as Agnes Drummond had confided to me, only the day before, that she had been married, when sixteen, to a thief of the name of Fain, who had married her and carried away her watch and property. I trouble you

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with this, as I see my name as having beaten her and turned her out of doors without clothes, in the night; instead of which, my coachman conveyed her to an inn, and had great difficulty in making her sleep there. She took my clothes away and seal, which were taken from her. She now calls herself Fain,—her own clothes were marked E. M. She left them wet in the laundry or they would have been sent to her that night.

I have, I think, the very person Lady Cloncurry would like; she is about twenty-two, very clever, good, and with a good manner, writes a beautiful hand, knows music thoroughly, both harp and pianoforte. She is attached to an old mathematician in Russia—a Platonic attachment; his name is Wronsky, so that as they are not to marry or meet for ten years, she is very anxious to go into any respectable and comfortable family where she will be well treated; she draws, paints uncommonly well, and, provided she had a room to herself, a fire, pen, ink, and paper, or a book, I dare say she will make herself comfortable anywhere; how far she would like Ireland, I guess not, as her views turned to Italy or Paris: if, however, your lady will communicate with her herself, I will send you her answer; she is a person of strict morals and great propriety—a little high, but excessively sweet-tempered. She is by no means expensive, yet to go to Ireland I think she would ask eighty guineas—is that too much? She would dedicate all her time to the children after ten in the morning to six at night;

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she would play also on the harp of an evening, read to the lady if she were ill, or write her letters for her.

I thank you from my heart for what you said Sir Charles would do; and now, as you say, for business. It is a disagreeable thing to recommend any one, and in particular when the education of children is a point at stake. I therefore shall write you word for the inspection of Lord and Lady Cloncurry, all I know

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of Miss Bryan, although the knowledge that my letter is to be seen by strangers will prevent my writing as fully as I otherwise should. Pray tell me something of Lady Charlemont. I feel very much interested for her. My dearest mother liked her. Lady Abercorn admired her, and so did Lord Byron. She has, I am sure, suffered very, very much. Sometime or other, tell me how Lord Caulfield came to die, and how Lady Charlewood is. Pray, in your prettiest manner, remember me to her. I enclose you, upon trust, a letter of Miss Bryan; but as there are two or three trifling mistakes in grammar, do not show it. Only see what her feelings are. I feel interested for her; yet she and I are not “congenial souls.” She is more dignified, tranquil, calm, gentle, and self-possessed, than I am; and therefore, if she is made to be all she can be, she will do better to bring up others. Now as every one must, will, and should fall in love, it is no bad thing that she should have a happy, Platonic, romantic attachment to an old mad mathematician several thousand miles off. It will keep her steady, which, in truth, she is—beyond her years. Added to this, she plays perfectly; can draw quite well enough to teach; do beauty work; paint flowers; write and read well; and teach the harp. For manner, dress, arrangement, appearance, exactness,—do well. What I do not know about her is this,—I do not know if she is able to impart her knowledge. I do not know if she is religious, although I presume she is. Lady Cloncurry must guide her; she is yet but young, and I advise most particularly

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that she should begin as she intends to proceed. Miss Bryan is very gentle, although proud, and can bear being spoken to; but she requires to be told the plain truth, whole truth, and all the truth.

She has, certainly, good abilities and considerable knowledge. Of the latter, perhaps rather too much, as it makes her somewhat positive; but there is no conceit: her presumption is in her manner. It appears to me that there is a good chance of her doing well; but Lady Morgan must be aware that the power of instructing is almost a gift of nature; that many of the best instructed themselves are very deficient in it. She must also be aware that much temper and management is necessary to enable a person to like well the situation of a governess, which, in every family, will be beset by some of the difficulties and annoyances which Lady Morgan has well described in O’Donnel.

Thank you and thank Sir Charles for all his kindness about my fairy tale, Ada Reis, although I think

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he uses a rod even whilst he is merciful. I must now tell you about Miss Bryan. She has caught cold, and been very, very ill. I would not, for the world, have Lady Cloncurry wait for her; but if she chances to be without a proper person when well, Miss Bryan would assuredly go. However, it is no loss to the girl, as I feel sure she wishes to die or to marry Wronsky, and therefore do nothing further about her. She is sensible, handsome, young, good, unsophisticated, independent, true, ladylike, above any deceit or meanness, romantic, very punctual about money, but she has a cold and cough, and is in love. I cannot help it; can you?

Whoever has reviewed Ada Reis must not think me discontented, neither unhappy. The loss of what one adores affects the mind and heart; but I have resigned myself to it, and God knows I am satisfied with all I have and have had. My husband has been to me as a guardian angel. I love him most dearly; and my boy, though afflicted, is clever, amiable, and cheerful.

Dear Lady Morgan, let me not be judged by hasty works and hasty letters. My heart is as calm as a lake on a fine summer day; and I am as grateful to God for his mercy and blessing as it is possible to be. Tell all this to Sir Charles; and pray write to me. Your letters amuse me excessively. I would I had anything clever or pretty to pay in return.