called Woodlands; a spot which, although only a few miles from the metropolis, exhibits as many rural graces as can be found in the deepest recesses of the country. The grounds possess the most engaging irregularity and variety. The conservatory, in particular, is remarkable, as well for the magnificent yet simple construction of the building, as for the delicacy, richness, and multiplicity of the plants with which it is stored. In the centre of it stands a superb and lofty pine from Van Dieman's Land, for which Mr. Angerstein was once offered a thousand guineas. Mr. Angerstein's gallery of pictures, at his house in Pall-Mall, has long been among the most celebrated in London; surpassed by several in extent, but at least equal to any in excellence. The number of works of which it consists is forty-two, all of them first-rate productions. In collecting them, Mr. Angerstein spared no justifiable expense. Although his own natural taste generally enabled him to pronounce pretty ac curately on the good or on the bad parts of any picture offered to his notice, yet he had not enjoyed those opportunities of observation and comparison which alone could have secured him from occasional imposition in the attainment of the object which he had in view; and therefore, with his usual good sense, he sought the assistance of a professional friend, on whose experience and judgment he knew he might safely rely. That friend was Sir Thomas Lawrence, the late accomplished President of the Royal Academy; between whom and Mr. Angerstein there existed, from a very early period of Sir Thomas's splendid career as an artist, the closest intimacy. Aided by Sir Thomas Lawrence's advice, and in two or three instances by that of Mr. West, late President of the Royal Academy, Mr. Angerstein gradually accumulated his admirable collection. Thus surrounded by every thing that was beautiful and valuable in nature and in art, and enjoy. ing the society of all the first characters of the age, whether remarkable for the superiority of their condition, or for the lustre of their talents and virtues, Mr. Angerstein continued to "crown a youth of labour with an age of ease," until he had attained nearly to his eighty-eighth year. His decease took place at Woodlands, on the 22d of January, 1823; after an indisposition of not more than a week; and he retained all his faculties to the last. Mr. Angerstein was twice married. His first wife was the widow of Charles Crokatt, Esq., who had been left with two sons, and two daughters. By her he had one son, and one daughter; John, (formerly member of Parliament for the Borough of Camelford,) who married the beautiful and amiable daughter of William Lock, Esq. of Norbury Park, by whom he has three sons and two daughters; and Juliana, who married General Nicholas Sablonkoff. It is highly honourable to Mr. Angerstein's feelings that his affections were equally divided between his' own children and those of Mrs. Angerstein by her former husband. Mr. Angerstein's second wife was Mrs. Lucas, the widow of a respectable merchant, by whom he had no issue, and whom he survived many years. The person of Mr. Angerstein was manly, noble, and commanding; his manners were easy, unaffected, and calculated to invite respect and confidence; his address was simple, but highly prepossessing; his conversation was open and ingenuous, without any mixture of disagreeable levity on the one hand, or of assumed gravity on the other; his countenance in particular was marked by those traits of beneficence which were reflected from his mind, and which shone so conspicuously in his numerous benefactions to the noblest, tenderest, and best of the charitable institutions which are the boast of Great Britain. And here it ought to be remarked, that although Mr. Angerstein's name was always one of the foremost in every loyal, patriotic, and benevolent Y contribution, nothing could be more opposite to his character than the slightest parade or ostentation. He was actuated solely by an overflowing kindness of heart, and by an ardent love for that which, although not his native country, was the country of his adoption, of his residence during by far the greater part of his life, and of his af fections. No man shrunk with more modesty and diffidence from the praise to which his good deeds, whether as a public or as a private indi vidual, justly entitled him. As a husband and parent, Mr. Angerstein was affectionate; as a landlord, considerate and liberal. In him, the character of a liberal merchant was developed in the most honourable manner; for as his wealth was drawn from trade, so was it freely expended in the protection and encouragement of the arts, and in the diffusion of knowledge. When industry is united with generosity and liberality, and commerce becomes the handmaid to civilization and science, they confer the highest honour and happiness on a country. We trust that the examples of individual cele brity acquired by a proper selection of the merchant's recreations, will not be considered as having drawn us more into detail than was warranted by the nature and importance of the subject. THE MERCHANT'S REWARDS. WE have imposed upon the merchant arduous duties; in the conscientious discharge of them he will realize large and rich rewards. The steady and constant acquisition of that wealth which affords the means of independence and active benevolence; the power of rewarding merit by giving employment, patronage and good advice; the distinction and consideration among men, which results from respectability of station and character; the possession of comfort and domestic felicity in a well-ordered home; and the opportunity of taking a leading part in publicspirited measures of utility, may be classed among the rewards of the successful and highminded merchant. These he realizes towards the close of his career in "large amounts." In all seasons of his life an attention to the precepts we have enforced, will ensure him that important element of happiness, ease of mind. "Ease of mind," says an able writer, "is incomparably the most valuable of all possessions -not the ease of indolence, but of action-the smoothness of the unruffled current, not of the stagnant pool. This possession is not the gift of fortune the gifts of fortune frequently destroy |