It happened that, in September, 1852, the Duke and Duchess of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, on their return from England to the Continent, paid a visit to the Duke at Walmer, when, in the course of conversation, the Duchess asked "the Duke" which of the many portraits existing of him he considered the best. The latter immediately pointed to the little maple frame hanging from the wall, in which was a print of the "Arbuthnot picture," and announced his preference for it. Upon the Duchess remarking that she would send to London for a сору, "the Duke," with his usual gallantry, declared she need not do so; and, taking the print down from the nail whereon it hung, begged her to accept it, which she did. No sooner had his visitors left the room, however, than the Duke took thought of the blank space which he had made on his wall, and also the absence of his portrait from the line of Lord Wardens, Pitt, and others, which he had arranged thereon, and, with his usual love of order, promptly set about refilling it. The very next morning a note reached Messrs. Graves and Co., in the Duke's hand-" F. M.'s compts.," &c. -requesting that they would, with as little delay as possible, procure for him a copy of the Arbuthnot portrait, framed in maplewood, and forward it to Apsley House, whence it would be transmitted to Walmer. No time was lost in putting into execution his Grace's order, and a message was sent to the steward at Apsley House, announcing that the print, framed, would be ready for delivery on the following day. In the meantime, four days only after the first note, came another from the Duke, dated "7th Sept. 1852," in which he referred to the order already given, and "begged to know if it had been received, and what progress had been made in the execution thereof?" The print, framed, as ordered, crossed this second note on the road, and was hung up by the Duke in the place of the former one, one little week before he died.

Last in order is a whole-length of the Duke in a military cloak, standing on the field of Waterloo, and holding his reconnoitering telescope; an admirable likeness, and soldierlike figure. This picture was painted in 1818, for Sir Robert Peel, who, both on account of the veneration in which he held the original, and also his value for it as a painting, so jealously prized it, that for many years he was not to be induced to let it go out of his possession for the purpose of being engraved. It was, however, eventually engraved, in 1848, in mezzotint, by Cousins; and how it came to be so is

so creditable to all parties, that we record the circumstances. It will be recollected that, in 1847, Sir Robert Peel gave a day conversazione to men of arts and letters at his house, in Privy Gardens. Mr. Colnaghi, the print-publisher, on that occasion, lent his services to the ex-Premier in arranging the various prints and works of art in the rooms, lending, indeed, several for the purpose. A few days afterwards, Sir Robert Peel called to thank him, and asked what he was in his debt. Mr. Colnaghi replied that he was very happy to have been of service in the matter, but could not think of making any charge. Sir Robert appreciated the delicacy with which this was said, but, thanking the worthy publisher, begged to know if there was no way in which he could make some return for his kindness. Mr. Colnaghi then took courage, again broached the subject of the Duke's portrait; and, after a brief hesitation, Sir Robert consented, only requiring to know for how long he would have to part with the picture. "One twelvemonth," was the reply. I consent," rejoined the Statesman; but recollect, that whether the engraving is finished or not, I must have the portrait back one twelvemonth from the day you receive it." Mr. Colnaghi promised, and kept his word. The picture was punctually returned to Drayton Manor on the day twelvemonth; but the engraving not being then quite finished, Mr. Cousins was obliged to go down after it, to put the finishing touches. This was not very long before the untimely death of England's illustrious statesman, and art's considerate patron.

From Lawrence's hand we have also a life-size head of the Duke, in crayons (a vehicle which this artist commanded with the happiest delicacy and precision), drawn in 1815; and engraved in chalk by F. C. Lewis. There appears to have been two plates of this sketch-one square, the other surrounded by an oval line. The latter has the following quotation from Napier's "Peninsular War" :

Iron hardihood of body; a quick and sure vision; a grasping mind; untiring power of thought, and the habit of minute and laborious investigation and arrangement: all these qualities he possessed; and with them, that most rare faculty of coming to prompt and sure conclusions on sudden emergencies. Steadily holding on his own course, he proved himself a sufficient man, whether to uphold or conquer kingdoms. How many battles he fought-victorious in all.

If we mistake not, one of the first who had the honour of painting the Duke, after the death of Sir Thomas Lawrence,

was Wilkie; to whose style the Duke was always very partial, and who, we believe, was the only artist that ever received a "C commission" from him; namely, in the case of the Chelsea Pensioners.*

WORKS OF SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE IN LONDON, ETC.

These few notes of the location of some of Sir Thomas's finest portraits in the metropolis may be interesting to his admirers, as they are mostly accessible, with proper means.

At Mr. Murray's, 50, Albemarle-street, the portrait of the poet Moore, painted for the late John Murray.

At St. Bartholomew's Hospital, West Smithfield, in the Court-room, a fine portrait of Mr. Abernethy.

In the Dulwich Gallery is a portrait of Mr. W. Linley. At Chesterfield House, May Fair, Lawrence's unfinished portrait of himself.

At Stafford House, St. James's: Portraits of Earl Clanwilliam; the Marchioness of Westminster; and Lady Gower and Child.

At the Athenæum Club-house, Pall Mall, of George IV., a fine, full-length, unfinished portrait, the last work of Lawrence: he was painting one of the orders on the breast a few hours before he died.

At the Garrick Club-house, King-street, Covent Garden, a drawing of Mrs. Siddons.

At Merchant Tailors' Hall, Threadneedle-street, a full length portrait of the Duke of York, second son of George III.

At Sir Robert Peel's, Privy Gardens, Whitehall, fifteen pictures, all painted for the late Sir Robert Peel, next to George IV. the great patron of Lawrence: Lady Peel, in a hat, companion to the Chapeau de Paille; Miss Peel, with a dog; Duke of Wellington, full-length, in his military cloak, and holding a telescope; Lord Chancellor Eldon, seated, Lord Stowell, seated; the Earl of Liverpool, full-length; Mr. Canning, full-length, speaking in the House of Commons; Lord Aberdeen, three-quarters, standing.

Burlington House, Piccadilly: In the Royal Society's meeting-room, portrait of Sir Humphry Davy, Bart.

*These characteristic details, from the pen of an able art-critic of the day, appeared in the Illustrated London News shortly after the death of the Duke of Wellington, in 1852.

Royal Academy, Trafalgar Square: Diploma picture, a Rustic Girl.

Soanean Museum, Lincoln's Inn Fields: in the diningroom, a portrait of Sir John Soane, the architect.

In the National Gallery, (British School,) are portraits of Mr. Angerstein; a Lady; John Philip Kemble, as Hamlet; Benjamin West, P.R.A.; Mrs. Siddons, the Dowager Countess of Darnley; John Fawcett, comedian; and Sir John Soane, R.A.

CELEBRATED PORTRAITS.

In 1810, the Exhibition of the Royal Academy contained four capital pictures, by Lawrence. The first portraitViscount Castlereagh-was an admirable likeness and well painted, but was violently abused by Mr. Peter Finnerty, in the Morning Chronicle. He had, by his strong political writings, drawn upon himself the vengeance of the Irish government, of which Lord Castlereagh was then Secretary, and whom he hated as the origin of the Union, and as the advocate of English or Anglo-Irish politics in Ireland. Lord Castlereagh's amenity of disposition never forsook him, and whenever he met Finnerty in the streets, he bowed to him with suavity, and inquired after his health. Peter's ire was not, however, to be in the least quenched by this gentle. bearing; and in reviewing the Royal Academy Exhibition of this year, he so attacked the portrait of Lord Castlereagh, that poor Mr. Lawrence, who read the abusive critique in the Morning Chronicle next day, was altogether disgusted, and was for many days unable to resume his placidity of disposition. He complained bitterly to Mr. Perry, his friend, whose inexhaustible good nature made him really regret the mischief, and led him to do all he could to pacify the artist; but there seemed to be a fatality attending the subject. In 1814, another portrait of Lord Castlereagh was exhibited at the Academy by Lawrence here was an opportunity of making the amende honorable for the former injury. The subject had, however, escaped Perry's recollection, and the identical Finnerty was again sent to review the Exhibition. Peter, true to his political animosities, pounced again upon the Secretary's portrait, and here is his account of it: The "Portrait of Lord Castlereagh, by Lawrence, is not a likeness. It has a smug, smart, upstart, haberdasher look, of which there is nothing in Lord Castlereagh. The air of the whole figure is direct and forward;

there is nothing, as there ought to be, characteristically circuitous, involved, and parenthetical in it. Besides, the features are cast in quite a different mould. As a bust, Lord Castlereagh's is one of the finest we have ever seen: it would do for one of the Roman emperors, bating the expression." The reader may imagine the distress of the sensitive Lawrence upon reading this second outrageous tirade; though the portrait, it must be confessed, conveyed no idea of the figure and carriage, and very little of the face, of Lord Castlereagh.

The second Portrait upon our list (exhibited in 1810,) was that of Mr. Canning, the first of that statesman Lawrence had taken; "and (says Mr. Williams,) contrary to the almost invariable character of the artist's works, Mr. Canning's fine face and form were the only ones, which his pencil did not, in this instance, or in any other, improve. He generally made the face more wrinkled and haggard than it was, nor did he impart to it its really fine animation and intellectual expression. The portrait, a three-quarters, is both the most pleasing, and the most accurate, of any of those taken by Lawrence. There must have been some.extraordinary difficulty in catching the expression of this great man's countenance, for no artist succeeded in the attempt, whilst Sir Thomas Lawrence was remarkably correct in comparison with others."

One of Sir Thomas's latest works was another portrait of Mr. Canning: indeed, it was almost the last portrait to which the painter gave the finishing touch. On the Saturday morning preceding the Thursday on which he died, he wrote. to a friend and patron: "I have the pleasure to tell you that Lord Seaford thinks it much the best portrait of Mr. Canning that I painted. It is, I think, acknowledged to be so by the casual visitors to my rooms; but the authority of so near a personal friend is still more gratifying than the general impression."

The portrait of Lord Melville was the third in the exhibition of 1810. Lawrence used to relate a strange disclosure which his Lordship made to him during one of the sittings for this picture. Parts of the metropolis were at this time agitated by a demagogue who had been active in the Reform and Revolutionary Societies of 1793, and who continued to this hour his patriotism, at "so much per speech." "You know not," said Lord Melville to Lawrence, "the sources of those sentiments towards the English public (taking the expression in its lowest sense), with which men in office