"Spin on, most beautiful."
In the sculpture-gallery at Chatsworth, among noble forms, and groups apparently instinct with life, we were attracted by the statue of a young spinning-girl, from the chisel of a German artist. She is called the Filatrice, and stands in a simple and graceful attitude upon the fragment of a granite column, brought from the Roman Forum. Here, as in other choice collec- tions of the masters of sculpture, we were reminded of Thomson's descriptive lines,-
"Minutely perfect all! Each dimple sunk,
And every muscle swelled, as Nature taught.
In tresses braided fresh the marble waved,
Flowed in loose robe, or thin, transparent veil,
Sprang into motion, softened into flesh,-
Was fired with passion, or refined to soul."
"Next, on to Haddon-Hall."
It is well to see Chatsworth and Haddon-Hall in the same day. The contrast of their features deepens the impression which each leaves on the mind. The overwhelming splendor of one prepares you to relish and to reverence the silent, mournful majesty of the other. You pass as from a Roman triumph, to Marius sitting among the ruins of Carthage.
This touching relic of the olden time occupies an
