ty-six
thousand pounds, a sum which bore a greater proportion to the fortunes
of the rich men of that day than a hundred thousand pounds would bear
to the fortunes of the rich men of our time. [190] Lely was succeeded by
his countryman Godfrey Kneller, who was made first a knight and then a
baronet, and who, after keeping up a sumptuous establishment, and after
losing much money by unlucky speculations, was still able to bequeath
a large fortune to his family. The two Vandeveldes, natives of Holland,
had been tempted by English liberality to settle here, and had produced
for the King and his nobles some of the finest sea pieces in the world.
Another Dutchman, Simon Varelst, painted glorious sunflowers and tulips
for prices such as had never before been known. Verrio, a Neapolitan,
covered ceilings and staircases with Gorgons and Muses, Nymphs and
Satyrs, Virtues and Vices, Gods quaffing nectar, and laurelled princes
riding in triumph. The income which he derived from his performances
enabled him to keep one of the most expensive tables in England. For his
pieces at Windsor alone he received seven thousand pounds, a sum then
sufficient to make a gentleman of moderate wishes perfectly easy for
life, a sum greatly exceeding all that Dryden, during a literary life of
forty years, obtained from the booksellers. [191] Verrio's assistant
and successor, Lewis Laguerre, came from France. The two most celebrated
sculptors of that day were also foreigners. Cibber, whose pathetic
emblems of Fury and Melancholy still adorn Bedlam, was a Dane. Gibbons,
to whose graceful fancy and delicate touch many of our palaces,
colleges, and churches owe their finest decorations, was a Dutchman.
Even the designs for the coin were made by French artists. Indeed, it
was not till the reign of George the Second that our country could glory
in a great painter; and George the Third was on the throne before she
had reason to be proud of any of her sculptors.

It is time that this description of the England which Charles the Second
governed should draw to a close. Yet one subject of the highest moment
still remains untouched. Nothing has yet been said of the great body
of the people, of those who held the ploughs, who tended the oxen, who
toiled at the looms of Norwich, and squared the Portland stone for Saint
Paul's. Nor can very much be said. The most numerous class is precisely
the class respecting which we have the most meagre information. In those
t