Admiral Barrington was desired by my mother to be her executor and my guardian, with the two Admirals Drake, in case she died before I was of age. But though he survived my mother, her life was mercifully spared to me for many years after that period; and he died before my return to England, after a long illness, which kept him chiefly at Bath during the last years of his existence.
I remember a young officer of the French Navy saying one day: “I should like to be an English Peer until I reached thirty-five. I would then be a Marshal of France till fifty, and afterwards come to Rome, be a Cardinal, and never die.” The same officer, looking at the fine picture of the “Magdalen,” by Guido, exclaimed: “Oh, what a lovely picture! I have always liked Magdalens in every stage of their existence.”
Signor Balbi was surprised to find that there was no Burgundy left in his cellar, when he wanted to place some before a party of friends who were dining with him at his country villa. “Ah!” said he, “it must have been that Englishman, Lord Fortrose, who has been staying here some days with my wife, that has drank it. Ah! I never thought of my wine.”
The Bishop of Parma said, that in that climate they had “nove mesi d’inverno, e tre d’inferno.”
It often happened in Genoa that, when any one was building, or repairing his house, his opposite neighbour, if he thought it so high as to be inconvenient to himself, or disagreeable for any other reason, had it fired at with musket-shot, or at least pelted with stones. This occurred, whilst we were there, to the house of Signor Negroni.
The Archbishop of Genoa hearing an Abbé say that the earth moved round the sun, told him he was astonished at his impiety in flatly contradicting the Scriptures, which say, “Terra autem stat.”
Madame de Staël, daughter of M. Necker, being at a ball with a lady, daughter of the late M. de Guichen, Lieutenant-General of the Marine, for whom she was in mourning, kept tormenting the latter to dance. The lady replied that she could not dance while she was in mourning for her father; but Madame de Staël still importuned her, until she said: “Consider, madam, if you had had the misfortune to lose your father, could you think of dancing so soon?” “Oh!” returned the other, with a haughty air, “there is such a difference between fathers and fathers.” “True, madam,” replied her companion, “there is a great difference. My father served his king and his country during sixty years—yours in a fortnight has ruined both.”