This hall was gorgeously
frescoed by Italian masters. The door commands the view of a
magnificent sweep of green lawn, embellished by an artificial lake. It
is singular in how fine and subtle a way different nationalities
express themselves in landscape gardening, while employing the same
materials. I have seen no grounds on the continent that express the
particular shade of ideas which characterize the English. There is an
air of grave majesty about the wide sweep of their outlines - a quality
suggestive of ideas of strength and endurance which is appropriate to
their nationality.
[Illustration: _of Castle Howard, with the artificial lake in the
foreground._]
In Lord Carlisle's own room we saw pictures of Sumner, Prescott, and
others of his American friends. This custom of showing houses, which
prevails over Europe, is, I think, a thing which must conduce greatly
to national improvement. A plea for the beautiful is constantly put in
by them - a model held up before the community, whose influence cannot
be too highly estimated. Before one of the choicest paintings stood
the easel of some neighboring artist, who was making a copy. He was
quite unknown to the family, but comes and goes at his pleasure, the
picture being as freely at his service as if it were an outside
landscape.
After finishing our survey, I went with Lady Carlisle into her own
_boudoir_. There I saw a cabinet full-length picture of her
mother, the Duchess of Devonshire. She is represented with light hair,
and seemed to have been one whose beauty was less that of regular
classic model, than the fascination of a brilliant and buoyant spirit
inspiring a graceful form. Lady Carlisle showed me an album,
containing a kind of poetical record made by her during a passage
through the Alps, which she crossed on horseback, in days when such an
exploit was more difficult and dangerous than at present. I
particularly appreciated some lines in closing, addressed to her
children, expressing the eagerness with which she turned from all that
nature and art could offer, in prospect of meeting them once more.
Lord Carlisle is still in Turkey, and will, probably, spend the winter
in Greece. His mother had just received a letter from him, and he
thinks that war is inevitable.
In one of the rooms that we traversed I saw an immense vase of bog oak
and gold, which was presented to Lord Carlisle by those who favored
his election on the occasion of his defeat on the corn-law question.
The sentiment expressed by the givers was, that a defeat in a noble
undertaking was worthy of more honor than a victory in an ignoble one.
After lunch, having waited in vain for the rain to cease, and give us
a sunny interval in which to visit the grounds, we sallied out hooded
and cloaked, to get at some of the most accessible points of view.
