"I defy Antiquity to surpass--I doubt its ability to rival--Powers' Proserpine and his Psyche with any models of the female head that have come down to us; and while I do not see how they could be excelled in their own sphere, I feel that Powers, unlike Alexander, has still realms to conquer, and will fulfil his destiny." A very prominent picture, and one that was a great favorite with uncle, is an original portrait of Luther, by Lucas Cranach, one of the great lights of the Flemish school of painting. I have seen in the Dresden Gallery the counterpart to this picture, painted by the same artist, but representing Luther after death. I much prefer the animated expression of the _living_ picture, for it is hard to think of the fiery reformer as dead, even at this late day. Over the sofa is a large Holy Family, a painting in the school of Raphael, and underneath it hangs one of our most valuable pictures--a veritable Guercino, painted in 1648. The subject is St. Mary Magdalen. I wish that I had time to write in detail of all the beautiful things in the parlor--a card-table made like the centre-table of classic marble from the ruins of Rome, an exquisite moonlight view of a Benedictine Convent upon the Bay of Naples, with a young girl kneeling before the shrine of the Madonna; a Venetian scene--the Doge's palace with its graceful, Moorish architecture; St. Peter and St. Paul; the Cumaean Sybil, a beautiful female figure whose partly veiled face seemed full of mystery; St. Agatha, and an Ecce Homo. There are still some more marble medallions that I have not mentioned; several valuable antiques, portraits of Alexander the Great and Tacitus, and a bas-relief representing the flight of Aeneas--the former found near the Appian Way--and two others that are comparatively modern--likenesses of Pope Clement XI., and Vittoria Colonna, the gifted Italian poetess of the fifteenth century. But I have not yet spoken of the pearl of our museum. This piece of sculpture was not one of uncle's Italian purchases, nor does it date back for centuries, but it is priceless to us, especially as it is, we believe, the only copy now existing. I allude to the bust made of uncle in 1846 by Hart, the Kentucky sculptor. This bust was the first work of importance that Mr. Hart had ever executed, for he was then in the first flush of manhood, and the early vigor of that genius that has since wrought out so many beautiful creations. Then, however, he had not modelled his fine statue of Henry Clay, ordered by the ladies of Virginia, nor had he even dreamed of his lovely "Triumph of Woman" that when finished will send his name down to posterity, as our greatest _creative_ American sculptor.