IV.

WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR.

THERE were few visitors to Florence between the years 1829 and 1835 whose attention had not in some way been directed to an elderly English gentleman, residing with his family in a commodious villa on the pleasant slope of those Fiesolan hills, full of the scenes and memories of Boccaccio -with the cottage of Dante, the birthplace of Michael Angelo, and the home of Machiavelli in sight, and overlooking the Valdarno and Vallombrosa which Milton saw and sang. He had lived previously for six years in the city, at the Palazzo Medici, and for a short time in another campagna, but had few acquaintances among his countrymen except artists, and scarcely any among the natives except picture-dealers. He had a stately and agreeable presence, and the men-of-letters from different countries who brought introductions to him spoke of his affectionate reception, of his com

plimentary old-world manners, and his elegant though simple hospitality. But it was his conversation that left on them the most delightful and permanent impression; so affluent, animated, and coloured, so rich in knowledge and illustration, so gay and yet so weighty-such bitter irony and such lofty praise, uttered with a voice fibrous in all its tones, whether gentle or fierce-it equalled, if not surpassed, all that has been related of the table-talk of men eminent for social speech. It proceeded from a mind so glad of its own exercise, and so joyous in its own humour, that in its most extravagant notions and most exaggerated attitudes it made argument difficult and criticism superfluous. And when memory and fancy were alike exhausted, there came a laughter so pantomimic, yet so genial, rising out of a momentary silence into peals so cumulative and sonorous, that all contradiction and possible affront were merged for ever.

This was the author of the 'Imaginary Conversations,' who was esteemed by many high authorities in our own and in classical literature to be the greatest living master of the Latin and English tongues. But it was not the speaker, real or fictitious, or the writer, less or more meritorious, who had made so