Amongst the portraits of remarkable persons suspended here, is one of Roger Palmer, Earl of Castlemain, who obtained his peerage in Charles the Second’s reign, through the influence of his wife, the notorious Duchess of Cleveland. This extraordinary person was sent to Rome, by King James the Second, to procure a pardon for heresy, and a reconciliation between the dissevered churches. But his holiness, knowing the futility of such an attempt, whenever the ambassador approached was always seized with a violent fit of coughing. Palmer at length grew weary of delay, and threatening to take his departure, his holiness observed, “that, since he had come to the resolution of travelling, he would recommend him to set out early in the morning, lest, by over fatigue and the effects of heat, he might endanger his health.” In an allegorical painting on one of the ceilings the daughters of William, second Marquis of Powys, are represented, one as Truth, a second as Virtue, and the third as Wisdom. This picture would not be worth selection from amongst so many works of conspicuous merit, if it were not for the portrait of Lady Mary, who appears as Minerva, or the Goddess of Wisdom. Few females have acted more singular parts on the great arena of life, for some centuries, than this noble lady. At first she engaged deeply in the Mississippi speculation: a marriage with the Pretender was next the object of her ambition: and lastly, she passed into Asturias in search of gold, accompanied by another nobly born adventurer. The gardens consist of parallel terraces, ranged one below the other for a considerable depth, connected by broad flights of steps, and protected by balustrades decorated with vases and statues. The water-works and some other antiquated embellishments, copied from St. Germain en Large, have been totally obliterated. The library and the terraces of the hanging gardens command an extensive and delightful prospect,—the valley of Pool, a rich country watered by the Severn, is spread out in front, stretching away to the beautiful chain of the Breiddyn hills, where the last remnant of British liberty was rent asunder by the surrender of the brave Caractacus. The summit of the same hill is now adorned by an obelisk, commemorative of the glorious victory of Admiral Rodney over the French fleet in the West Indies, on the 12th day of April, 1782.