room is devoted to the daily religious
worship of the family. It has been the custom of the present earl in
former years to conduct the devotions of the family here himself.

About this time my head and eyes came to that point which Solomon
intimates to be not commonly arrived at by mortals--when the eye is
satisfied with seeing. I remember a confused ramble through apartment
after apartment, but not a single thing in them, except two pictures of
Salvator Rosa's, which I thought extremely ugly, and was told, as people
always are when they make such declarations, that the difficulty was
entirely in myself, and that if I would study them two or three months
in faith, I should perceive something very astonishing. This may be, but
it holds equally good of the coals of an evening fire, or the sparks on
a chimney back; in either of which, by resolute looking, and some
imagination, one can see any thing he chooses. I utterly distrust this
process, by which old black pictures are looked into shape; but then I
have nothing to lose, being in the court of the Gentiles in these
matters, and obstinately determined not to believe in any real presence
in art which I cannot perceive by my senses.

After having examined all the upper stories, we went down into the
vaults underneath--vaults once grim and hoary, terrible to captives and
feudal enemies, now devoted to no purpose more grim than that of coal
cellars and wine vaults. In Oliver's time, a regiment was quartered
there: they are extensive enough, apparently, for an army.

The kitchen and its adjuncts are of magnificent dimensions, and indicate
an amplitude in the way of provision for good cheer worthy an ancient
house; and what struck me as a still better feature was a library of
sound, sensible, historical, and religious works for the servants.

We went into the beer vaults, where a man drew beer into a long black
jack, such as Scott describes. It is a tankard, made of black leather, I
should think half a yard deep. He drew the beer from a large hogshead,
and offered us some in a glass. It looked very clear, but, on tasting, I
found it so exceedingly bitter that it struck me there would be small
virtue for me in abstinence.

In passing up to go out of the house, we met in the entry two
pleasant-looking young women, dressed in white muslin. As they passed
us, a door opened where a table was handsomely set out, at which quite a
number of well-dressed people were seating themse