former despatches, I shall confine myself here
exclusively to the _pencil_ and the _chisel_.

Let us first walk leisurely about the ground floor, ere we mount the
gallery. To begin with the busts. That of the late _Abbe Barthelemi_, in
white marble, immediately strikes you.[181] It is full of nature and of
character; and the hair has just enough of the antique gusto about it to
render the toute ensemble equally classical and individualised--if you will
allow this latter expression. Here is a terra-cotta head of _Corneille_, of
very indifferent workmanship; and much inferior to a similar representation
of him at Rouen. The terra-cotta head of _Rousseau_ is considerably better.
But the marble bust of _Voltaire_, by Houdon, throws every thing about it
into tameness. It is as fine as is the terra-cotta bust of the same person
which Denon possesses. Here, however, the poet is in a peruque, or
dress-wig. His eyes sparkle with animation. Every feature and every muscle
seems to be in action: and yet it is perfectly free from caricature or
affectation. A surprising performance. This head and that of Barthelemi are
quite perfect of their kind. And yet I am not sure whether I should not
have preferred the fine bronze bust of _Henri II._, somewhat larger than
life, to either of the preceding. But I must not forget the colossal head
of _Bonaparte_, when a young man, by Canova. It is of white marble:
considered to be the original. Denon has a similar head, by the same
artist. I am not sure if I do not prefer Mr. Craufurd's. Of paintings, on
this floor, the head of _Francis I_. by Titian--(which may be called rather
a finished sketch, and which is retouched in parts) is a very desirable
performance; but it is inferior to the same head, by the same artist, in
the Louvre. Here is a charming portrait of a Lady in the time of Louis XV.,
who chose to lead the life of a _Religieuse_: sweetly and naturally
touched. A fine portrait of _Grotius_ is also here; well deserving a
conspicuous place in any cabinet of learning.[182]

We will now walk up stairs to the gallery. Of course, in the confined space
between the balustrade and the wainscot (not much more than three feet), it
is barely possible to appreciate the full effect of the paintings; but I
here send you a list of the greater part of them, with brief remarks, upon
the general accuracy of which you may rely.

_Madame Scarron_, with the _Duc du Maine_; apparently by Mignard: in a very
fr