really surpasses everything both in singing and acting that ever appeared. Gallini offered her two thousand pounds' a year, and two benefits, if she would engage with him, on which Sir William said pleasantly that he had engaged her for life/'
This somewhat trivial little episode of an imaginary coldness has been given space because it shows how much Emma was to Romney, how she had the power not only to inspire his genius, but also to cheer his shrinking, sensitive heart. The summer spent in London in 1791, just before her marriage, was the last time the two met—the two who are perpetually associated so long as canvas and colours last. Romney's brush has made Emma immortal as the very type and perfection of English beauty—a type that in its freshness and bloom is the very flower of our English soil and climate, our rains and mists and gentle sun.
The last picture Romney painted of her is that known as the " Ambassadress," and she gave him a sitting for this on the very day of her wedding. It is the artist's farewell picture, and one of his finest. Here is no wild and gay Bacchante with hair streaming to the wind, no wide-eyed and doom-speaking Cassandra, but Emma herself, sweet and more grave than usual, dressed for travelling, and wearing one of the imous blue hats. She looks in this picture like
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a woman who has weighed some of the chances of life, and has the ambition to play a larger and more serious part than she had hitherto attempted. Vesuvius smokes in the background, typical of the Italy to which she is returning and of the stormy happenings into which a few years will plunge her.
Before Romney passes entirely out of her life it is necessary to quote the letter she wrote him after reaching Caserta, on the 2oth of December, 1791. It closes that chapter of her existence and turns down the page.
" MY DEAR FRIEND, —I have the pleasure to inform you we arrived safe at Naples. I have been receved with open arms by all the Neapolitans of both sexes, by all the foreigners of every distinction. I have been presented to the Queen of Naples by her own desire. She as shown me all sorts of kind and affectionate attentions. In short, I am the happiest woman in the world. Sir William is fonder of me every day, and I hope he will have no corse to repent of what he as done; for I feel so gratefull to him, that I think I shall never be able to make him amends for his goodness to me. But why do I tell you this ? You know me enough. You was the first dear friend I opend my heart to. You ought to know me, for you have seen and discoursed with me in my poorer days. . . . How
gratefull then do I feel to my dear, dear husband, that as restored peace to my mind, that as given me honors, rank, and what is more, innocence and happiness. Rejoice with me, my dear sir, my friend, my more than father. Believe me, I am still that same Emma you knew me. If I could forget for a moment what I was, I ought to suffer. Command me in anything I can do for you here; believe me, I shall have a real pleasure. Come to Naples, and I will be your model:—anything to induce you to come, that I may have an oppertunity to shew you my gratitude to you. Take care of your health for all our sakes. How does the pictures go on ? Has the Prince been to you ? Write to me. I am interested in all that concerns you. God bless you, my dear Friend. I spoke to Lady Souther-land about you ; she loves you dearly. Give my love to Mr. Hayley. Tell him I shall be glad to see him at Naples.
" As you was so good to say you would give me the little picture with the black hat, I wish you would . . . give it to Mr. Duten. I have a great regard for him. He took a deal of pains and trouble for me ; and I could not do him a greater favour than to give him my picture. Do, my dear friend, do me that pleasure; and, if their is anything from Naples, command me.
" We have a many English at Naples as Ladys Malmsbury, Maiden, Plymouth, Carneigee,
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Wright, etc. They are very kind and attentive to me. They all make it a point to be remarkably cevil to me. You will be happy at this, as you know what prudes our Ladys are. Tell Hayly I am allways reading his 'Triumphs of Temper;' it was that made me Lady H., for God knows I had for 5 years enough to try my temper, and I am affraid if it had not been for the good example Serena taught me, my girdle wou'd have burst, and if it had I had been undone; for Sir W. minds more temper than beauty. He therefore wishes Mr. Hayley wou'd come, that he might thank him for his sweet-tempered wife, I swear to you, I have never been out of humour since the 6th of last September. God bless you. Yours. E. HAMILTON"
Romney replied to this warm and affectionate epistle, telling her how he rejoiced in her happiness, and praying, " May God grant it may remain
