applauded the performance, but said, "You have done well, Mistere Gay—ver well, as far as you have gone: but you have left me out one great quality. It is good for de Duke of Marlborough, that was I not a soldier, and his enemy. Once, when I was such a littel boy, I was on St. Mark's Place in Venice, and dey let off some fireworks. By Gott, I liked de smell of de gunpowder! Ah! sare, I should have made von great general—I should have killed men instead of making dem discontent vith demselves, as my pictures do."
Sir Godfrey is a little, shrewd looking old man, with manners courteous even to kindness. He received us with the greatest empressement, and was in excellent humour, having just received a haunch of venison from one of the principal auctioneers. "There," he exclaimed, in a tumult of soft emotion, "is a goot man! He loves me—see what beautiful fat is on his venison!"
A few judicious remarks, while he was showing us his pictures, placed me high in his favour; but my last compliment was the climax.
