follow, and then he can want nothing in my power to ask,—unless his modesty should prevent his pressing you for letters of recommendation to other parts of Italy, and therefore I beg them for him, and indeed every service you can perform for him. My unlimited expressions will tell you how confident I am that your goodness will not be misplaced, as it has often been on travelling boys and their more unlicked governors. Mr. Windham is not so young as to want to be formed, nor so old as to be insensible to the merit of others; and, therefore, I trust you will both be mutually pleased with each other. I envy him a little the satisfaction of visiting you; and, as he is a genuine Englishman, should lament his being forced to leave his own country, if I thought its honour or principles retrievable; and if I was not sure, by what I feel myself, that his health would be but more prejudiced by his remaining spectator of its blindness and disgraces.

LETTER CCCXVI.

Strawberry Hill, Oct. 31, 1779.

YOUR last letter was so full of encomiums on my tragedy, that, veteran author as I am, it made me blush. But I recollected your partiality, 'and then I accepted the motive with pleasure, though I must decline the exaggerations. It is plain that I am sincerely modest about it, for I not only never thought of its appearing on the stage, but have not published

it. It has indeed received greater honour than any of its superiors; for Lady Di. Beauclerc has drawn seven scenes of it, that would be fully worthy of the best of Shakespeare's plays-such drawings, that Salvator Rosa and Guido could not surpass their expression and beauty. I have built a closet on purpose for them here at Strawberry Hill. It is called the Beauclerc Closet; and whoever sees the drawings allows that no description comes up to their merit— and then, they do not shock and disgust, like their original, the tragedy.*

I am heartily glad you have had your nephew; I speak in the past tense, for he will certainly be set out on his return before this can reach Florence. It was uncommon merit to take so long a journey for a moment. I have sent you one to replace him, not to compensate; for a stranger cannot rival or equal your nephew but one who, as soon as you are acquainted with him, will be a great comfort to you, from his virtues, sense, and manners. It is a young

* The following is Walpole's account of these drawings in his Description of Strawberry Hill:-" The beauty and grace of the figures and of the children are inimitable; the expression of the passions most masterly, particularly in the devotion of the Countess with the Porter, of Benedict in the scene with Martin, and the tenderness, despair, and resolution of the Countess in the last scene; in which is a new stroke of double passion in Edmund, whose right hand is clenched and ready to strike with anger, the left relents. In the scene of the children, some are evidently vulgar; the others children of rank; and the first child, that pretends to look down and does leer upwards, is charming. Only two scenes are represented in all the seven, and yet all are varied; and the ground in the first, by a very uncommon effect, evidently descends and rises again. These sublime drawings, the first histories Lady Di. ever attempted, were all conceived and executed in a fortnight."-Ed.

Mr. Windham, a gentleman of Norfolk, of a very considerable estate, who is in a bad state of health, and travels for it. I am not so much acquainted with him as with his character, which is excellent; and then he is a Whig of the stamp that was current in our country in my father's time. I do not always send you a tally to the letters of recommendation I am sometimes forced to give; but that which he carries to you, I confirm by this in all points. I advise you to be intimate with him; I will warrant the safety of his connection, and I beg you to assist him with recommendations wherever you can. He is a particular friend of my great-nephew,* Lord Cholmondeley's cousin; but one I should have liked for my own friend, if the disparity of our ages would have allowed it; or if it were a time for me to make friends, when I could only leave them behind me. Well; but you had rather I had been talking politics, or telling you news. The scene is not mended, for another is opened. Ireland, taking advantage of the moment, and of forty thousand volunteers that they have in arms and regimented, has desired-that is, demanded-free trade. If we are not cured of our American visions at last, I hope we have learnt wisdom enough to perceive that prerogative is the weakest of all chimeras when opposed by free men in arms: it has cost us the diadem of the Colonies, as it did

* George, son of Robert Cholmondeley, second son of George Earl of Cholmondeley, by Elizabeth Woffington, sister of the distinguished actress of that name; who left the whole of her fortune, acquired by her talents, to her nephew, the person here mentioned.-Ed.

James II. those of three kingdoms; and therefore I trust we shall have more sense in Ireland. We still kick at the independence of America, though we might as well pursue our title to the crown of France.

Our fleet is at sea, and a most noble one. They still talk of the reappearance of the combined fleets from Brest. It is probable that the winds of November will be the most considerable victors; for the season has been so very serene in general, that I think the equinoctial tempests, like the squadrons, have passed the autumn in harbour, and that they will all come forth together.

Lord Stormont has got the late Lord Suffolk's seals of Secretary. There were to have been other arrangements, but they are suspended; and it is said this new preferment is more likely to produce resignations than settlement: but I only tell you common report; which is not at all favourable to Lord Stormont's promotion. He has a fair character, and is a friend of General Conway; but he is a Scot, and Lord Mansfield's nephew, which the people mind much more than his character the other advantage they will certainly pay no regard to at all. It is great pity unpopular things are done at such a moment!

Well! I trust I shall see General Conway within a week; I go to town to-morrow expecting him. He has acted in his diminutive islet with as much virtue and popularity as Cicero in his large Sicily, and with much more ability as a soldier, and a commander-I am heartily glad he was disappointed of showing how

infinitely more he is a hero.-The conclusion of my letter on Tuesday from London.

Nov. 1, Berkeley Square.

My letter is concluded, for I have nothing to add, but that the town says Lord Gower, President of the Council, will resign. Mind, I do not warrant this, nor anything that is not actually past.

LETTER CCCXVII.

Berkeley Square, Nov. 12, 1779.

I WENT this morning to Zoffani's, to see his picture or portrait of the Tribune at Florence;* and, though my letter will not put on its boots these three days, I must write while the subject is fresh in my head. The first thing I looked for, was you—and I could not find you. At last I said, "Pray, who is that Knight of the Bath?"-"Sir Horace Mann."-"Impossible!" said I. My dear sir, how you have left me in the lurch—you are grown fat, jolly, young; while I am become the skeleton of Methusalem!

The idea I always thought an absurd one. It is rendered more so by being crowded with a flock of travelling boys, and one does not know nor care whom. You and Sir John Dick, as Envoy and Consul,

* Zoffani having expressed a desire of visiting Italy, George III. is said to have kindly interested himself so far as to give directions for his being recommended to the Grand-Duke of Tuscany. Whilst he was at Florence he painted his celebrated picture of the Florence gallery, here spoken of by Walpole.—ED.