It represents the interior of the library either at Brampton or Welbeck, probably the latter, which was Lady Oxford's own inheritance. Through a doorway, flanked by Corinthian columns, the curtain in front of which is drawn back, we obtain a view of a country house standing back in a well-kept park; a river crossed by a three-arched bridge meanders through this. But it is the occupants of the room that call for most attention. The prominent figure is that of Minerva, who has laid aside her arms, and stands sandalled and helmeted. She is busily engaged in instructing six cupids, who appear to be industriously following her injunctions. One of these is painting in oils, with an easel before him and a palette on his thumb; the goddess with her left hand points out some defect in his work, and apparently explains how it may be remedied. Another cupid plays the harp; two more sit on the frame of the design, weaving flowing festoons; another, also on the frame, near a celestial globe, copies the picture of a flute-playing satyr which a sixth cupid holds in position. On the frame which surrounds the picture sit two figures--one of which is Mercury, with caduceus and winged hat--who act as supporters to a medallion bearing Lady Oxford's monogram; above is an urn, and from the sides fall bunches of grapes. Below the design is engraved 'Henrietta Cavendish Holles, Oxford and Mortimer. Given me by'--and then the donor's name and last two figures of the date, filled in by Lady Oxford herself. Lady Oxford was the sole heiress of John Holles, last Duke of Newcastle of the Holles family, and was the wife of Edward, second Earl of Oxford, son of Queen Anne's minister, and the continuator and completor of the Harleian collections. Vertue's love of studying all kinds of antiquities brought him, at an early date, into contact with Lord Oxford, who proved one of his warmest patrons. The artist himself speaks of 'the Earl's generous and unparalleled encouragement of my undertakings.' Harley would take his friend with him on his various 'hunting' tours in England, getting him to sketch the numerous objects of interest that they came across. No wonder that the Earl's death, in 1741, was a heavy loss, in every way, to George Vertue. It is noteworthy that there is no trace of heraldry in this remarkable book-plate. Book-plates free from anything armorial were not the rule in England in 1730, and Vertue was certainly proficient in heraldic engraving, or ought to have been so, since his earliest task in life was engraving coats of arms on plate, and his second engagement was with Michael Vandergucht, who, we know, executed a good deal of armorial work. It is probable, therefore, that the idea of the book-plate was Lady Oxford's own.