reat distress: his cutter paid off; and he, like many
others, very little to live upon. He begs his best respects to Sir
William. He breakfasted here this morning.

Many very long faces at peace!

LETTER XXVI.

MY DEAREST FRIEND,

Hardy begs you will send the inclosed to Naples.

I wish Tyson would come home; for many are pulling at him, and I want
to pay him. I will not be in his debt forty-eight hours after his
arrival.

Hardy is just anchored, and his commodore gone on shore.

Ever your most faithful

NELSON & BRONTE.

Mrs. Nelson had better direct her letters to me, unless I am on the
spot. You see, you paid postage, and it lays me open to their Post
Office conversation.

LETTER XXVII.

Amazon, October 19th, 1801.

MY DEAREST FRIEND,

What a gale we have had! But Admiral Lutwidge's boat came off; and, as
your letter was wrote, it got on shore: at least, I hope so; for the
boat seemed absolutely swallowed up in the sea. None of our boats
could have kept above water a moment; therefore, I could not answer
all the truly friendly things you told me in your letters, for they
were not opened before the boat was gone.

I am sure, you did well to send Mrs. Lutwidge a gown, and she loves
you very much, but there is no accounting for taste. She admires
entirely red coats; you, true blue.

They dine with Billy Pitt, to-day; or, rather, with Mr. Long; for Pitt
does not keep house, in appearance, although he asked me to come and
see him: and that I shall do, out of respect to a great man, although
he never did any thing for me or my relations. I assure you, my dear
friend, that I had rather read and hear all your little story of a
white hen getting into a tree, an anecdote of Fatima, or hear you
call--"Cupidy! Cupidy!" than any speech I shall hear in parliament:
because I know, although you can adapt your language and manners to
a child, yet that you can also thunder forth such a torrent of
eloquence, that corruption and infamy would sink before your voice, in
however _exalted_ a situation it might be placed.

Poor Oliver! what can be the matter with him?

I must leave my cot here, till my discharge, when it shall come to the
farm, as cots are the best things in the world for our sea friends.

Why not have the pictures from Davison's, and those from Dodd's;
especially, my father's, and Davison's?

_A-propos_! Sir William has not sat, I fear, to Beechey. I want a
half-length, the siz