Over the entrance of this gallery is an allegorical painting by Watteau, or Lancret, which my guide explained. On the summit of a rock, apparently of granite, and older than the Deluge, rose the Temple of Fame. The paths that led to it, were steep and intricate, difficulties that were not foreseen by the travellers tempted to thread this labyrinth by the roseate bowers that formed their entrance, inviting the weary pilgrim to seek a soft repose in their refreshing shade. But when he awoke from his peaceful slumber and delicious visions, renovated and invigorated, to pursue his journey, the scene soon changed; brambles, bushes, and tangling weeds impeded his path; and, despite the apparent solidity of the ground he trod, quicksands and moving bogs would often dishearten the most adventurous. Numerous were the travellers who strove to ascend the height, but few attained its wished-for summit; while many of them, overcome with fatigue, and despairing of success, stopped at some of the houses of reception, bad, good, and indifferent, that they found on the road-side. However, the back part of the acclivity presented a different prospect. There, the rock formed a terrific precipice, that no one could ascend by the ordinary means of locomotion. A balloon at that period had not been invented; yet I beheld a good number of visitors merrily hopping over the flowery mead that led to the temple, culling posies and running after butterflies, and in hearty fits of laughter on beholding the poor pilgarlicks who were puffing and blowing in vain to climb up the other face of the hill. The success of these fortunate adventurers amazed me, until my _cicerone_ pointed out to me, a personage fantastically dressed in the height of fashion, bewhiskered and moustached, hoisting up his favourite companions with a rope, securely fastened to the brink of the cliff. This individual, I found, was a brother of the goddess, and his name was _Effrontus_. His sister had long endeavoured to rid herself of his importunities, and had frequently complained to Jupiter to send the knave out of the country; but the fellow had so ingratiated himself at court,--more especially with the ladies, one of whom, by name _Famosa_, supported him in all his extravagancies,--that he snapped his fingers at his sister, and, by means of a latch-key, (forged by Vulcan as a reward to Mercury for his vigilance over his wife, when he was obliged to be absent in his workshop,) he could admit his impertinent cronies into the very _sanctum_ of her abode, where they not only revelled in every luxury, but actually sent out their scouts and tigers to increase the obstacles that rendered the roads up the hill more impracticable, and terrify by alarming reports the timid voyagers who were struggling up the rugged steep. The contrast between these adventurers was curious. The creatures of _Effrontus_, whom he had hoisted up, were all clad in