air, as if it were the real sky you had overhead." There in that
cloud-region "Mars is being disarmed by the Love-goddesses, and
they are sporting with his weapons. He stretches out his arm
towards the Goddess, who looks upon him with fond glances.
Cupids are spreading out a draping." That is Pesne's luxurious
performance in the ceiling.--"Weapon-festoons, in basso-relievo,
gilt, adorn the walls of this room; and two Pictures, also by
Pesne, which represent, in life size, the late King and Queen [our
good friends Friedrich Wilhelm and his Sophie], are worthy of
attention. Over each of the doors, you find in low-relief the
Profiles of Hannibal, Pompey, Scipio, Caesar, introduced
as Medallions."

All this is very fine; but all this is little to another ceiling,
in some big Saloon elsewhere, Music-saloon, I think: Black Night,
making off, with all her sickly dews, at one end of the ceiling;
and at the other end, the Steeds of Phoebus bursting forth, and
the glittering shafts of Day,--with Cupids, Love-goddesses, War-
gods, not omitting Bacchus and his vines, all getting beautifully
awake in consequence. A very fine room indeed;--used as a Music-
saloon, or I know not what,--and the ceiling of it almost an
ideal, say the connoisseurs.

Endless gardens, pavilions, grottos, hermitages, orangeries,
artificial ruins, parks and pleasances surround this favored spot
and its Schloss; nothing wanting in it that a Prince's
establishment needs,--except indeed it be hounds, for which this
Prince never had the least demand.

Except the old Ruppin duties, which imply continual journeyings