"To this admirable painter (_i.e._ Pesne) I am inclined to attribute the portrait of Frederick the Great. The king, who is still in youthful years, is pointing to a battlefield in the background, probably in allusion to the Silesian war. A picture of considerable merit."--_Waagen._ The painter is well remembered by the following couplet by Frederick the Great:-- "Quel spectacle étonnant vient de frapper mes yeux, Cher Pesne, ton pinceau t'égale au rang des Dieux," which Voltaire interpreted thus:--"Le roi ne regardant jamais le peintre, ce dernier était pour lui invisible comme Dieu." Pesne, who was a Frenchman and studied in Paris, was in England in 1724. He afterwards went to Berlin, where he became court painter to Frederick the Great. He died in 1757, the year of the Battle of Prague. The frame is doubtless a presentation one. 72 Frederick the Great (_978_) . . . . . _unnamed._ Bust, turned to the left, facing in front; his hands not seen. He wears a small wig and a dark-blue coat, with the star of the Order of the Black Eagle. 73 Charles XII. of Sweden (_977_) . . . . . MAGNUS DU BLAIRE? Bust; wearing a blue coat and a black choker; grey hair, and a beardless face. A small whole length, 49 in. by 39 in., of which this appears to be an enlarged copy of part, was in the Hamilton Palace collection, No. 1031, attributed to Magnus du Blaire, and inscribed: "In fatum Scandici Die XXX Nov. MDCCXVII." "David Krafft, a Swedish painter, born in 1655, painted the portrait of Charles XII. at the command of his sister, afterwards Queen Ulrica Eléanora; but this monarch, who objected to being portrayed, was so displeased at the accuracy of the picture, that he cut out the head. It had, however, already been transferred to copper, and also etched by several engravers."--_Bryan._ 74 Flower Piece . . . . . BAPTISTE. 75 Flower Piece . . . . . BAPTISTE. 76 Flower Piece . . . . . BAPTISTE. =The Cupola or Cube Room.= In this sumptuous and gorgeous chamber, with its marble-pillared doorways, its painted and gilded walls, its niches, brackets, slabs, and pediments of white marble, its gilt antique statues, its gaudy domed ceiling of blue and gold, we have the very acme and essence of the style and art of William Kent, triumphant and rampant. After our remarks on his work in the foregoing room, we shall not be expected to lose ourselves in admiration over this masterpiece of his pseudo-classic design and decoration. Yet little as we may agree with his theories of art, little as we may admire the way he carried them into practice, it is not to be denied that, viewed as a whole, there is considerable grandeur and stateliness, and a certain degree of fine proportion, about this highly-emblazoned saloon.