for any kingdom; and they, poor souls! relying on a broken reed, will
lose Sicily.

As for getting any thing for Bronte, I cannot expect it; for, the
finances of Naples are worse than ever. _Patienza_, however; I will--
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I see, many Bishops are dead. Is my brother tired of Canterbury? I
wish I could make him a Bishop. If you see him, or write, say that I
have not ten minutes to send away Mr. Acourt, who cannot be detained.

I hope Lord St. Vincent has sent out Sir William Bolton. As soon as I
know who is first Lord, I will write him.




LETTER XXXV.


MY DEAR LADY HAMILTON,

Your friend's godson arrived safe yesterday afternoon; and I shall,
you know, always feel too happy in obeying your commands: for, you
never ask favours, but for your friends.

In short, in every point of view, from Ambassatrice to the duties of
domestic life, I never saw your equal!

That elegance of manners; accomplishments; and, above all, your