of speech, if any flatteries were held too charming, save his own. This threat, his royal highness thought was the most effective he could use. We always judge of others by ourselves; and his idea of Cupid's quiver is a rouleau. I heard a droll story of his courtship, in earlier days, of the beautiful Mrs. Campbell, when maid of honour. After sitting in silence for some time, he drew out his purse and began to count his money. The lady pushed his elbow, and down rolled the glittering coin. They say that he has not yet forgiven her—not for the breach of etiquette, but for the risk that the poor dear guineas ran from the crevices on the floor. Lord Bathurst does not appear to me to be a very dangerous rival. I always long to quote two lines from Gay's "Fables:"
"Shall grave and formal pass for wise,
When men the solemn owl despise?"
Lord Peterborough, the romantic, the chivalric, was another of her adorateurs,—he who is enough to make one believe in the doctrine
