to which we are not accustomed? If this be so, should Queen Elizabeth herself appear again in her ruff and farthingale, she would be the height of uncouthness, but she would not be vulgar."

"Not vulgar, possibly," returned I," but surely ridiculous, which is perhaps akin to it."

"Not," replied the lady (looking much in earnest), "if it proceeded not from some defect of character. For if being merely innocently ridiculous made us vulgar, I don't know what would become of nous autres.' No; I still say that the vulgarity which we so detest, and of which alone we are talking, must take its rise from something unsound in the mind or heart; something which, as it certainly may be found, among the upper ranks, so the lower may as certainly be exempt from it."

66

"I fear to ask," said I, "for the proofs of this among the upper ranks.

"Why, there is always vulgarity, at least of mind," answered Lady Hungerford, "where there is silly affectation, lowthoughted pride (as of purse or other prosperity) towards onr inferiors, or envy, hatred, and malice towards our superiors; or, whas is worse, a dspicable attempt, by flattery or parasitcal attentions, to obtain their notice, or insinuate ourselves into their acquaintance. Such is the case of all parvenues, who have not sense or pride of mind enough to use their good fortune properly, but barter the diamond of their independence for the Bristol stone of vanity. As nothing is so soon seen through by people of real fashion, so nothing is so much ridiculed or contemned."

Having said this, she added with a good-humoured smile, "This I think is enough for to-day's lesson, so now we will break up school, and you may go play."

I heard all this with regret, for I was absolutely charmed; but seeing she was engaged, I took my leave with all necessary acknowledgments.

Certainly there is no pleasure more gratifying than to listen to refined sense, falling from the lips of a refined and beautiful woman.

CHAPTER XXX.

1

OF THE KNOWLEDGE OF MANKIND WHICH BEING IN OFFICE PRODUCES, AND OF THE HAPPINESS OF COURTS AND COURTIERS IN THE OPINION OF A PHILOSOPHIC MINISTER.

The art of the court,

As hard to leave as keep; whose top to climb
Is certain falling; or so slippery, that
The fear's as bad as falling.

SHAKSPEARE.-Cymbeline.

WHILE I was thus progressing in the knowledge of high life, under the auspices of this charming lady, who by opening her evening saloon to me added practical lessons to theory, I found I was not behindhand in what was still more important, my official business. The ability of Lord Castleton filled me with respect, while his kind as well as polished manners would have won me to him, had he been, what be was not, one of those every-day ministers who get into office without knowing how; some as Corinthian capitals, in the shape of high titles; some from a reputation, nobody knows by what means acquired, and forfeited as soon as brought to the test. These are often continued in place because they happen to be there; and sometimes are kept in merely to keep others out. The presiding geniuses, such as Lord Castleton, were few. They did all the work, and directed affairs, while the rest pocketed their salaries, content to do what they were bid, and be well paid for doing so.

My place in Lord Castleton's estimation having become kuown, procured me many introductions and acquaintances; how many friends I know not, for that test of friendship, the vacating of office, had not occurred, so I was sought after, courted, and feted, by men and women of all ranks-the men, for supposed patronage; the women, to frank their gowns and muffs through the post-office and customs.

My power was supposed both great and inexhaustible. Evrey body knew that Lord Castleton governed the realm, and thought I had at least a jackal's share with him. If I was seen, as was sometimes the case, going with him in his

chariot to his villa at Roehampton, though our conversation was of the lightest kind, I was set down as the depositary of all the secrets of Europe. It reminded me of Swift's intercourse with Lord Oxford:

"When what's o'clock? and how's the wind?

Whose coach is that we left behind?

And all such tattle, entertains
My lord and me as far as Staines,
And though what passes inter nos
Might be proclaim,d at Charing Cross,
And though I solemly declare

I know no more than my lord-mayor,
They stand amaz'd, and think me grown
The closest mortal ever known."

I was much amused, but sometimes teased and sometimes revolted, by the consequences of this opinion, which, the more I sought to refute it, the stronger it grew, and often shewed itself in the shape of offered bribes, more or less covered. One great lady, who had a son to promote, sent me opera tickets for six months, till the place she wanted was filled up, when the tickets came no more. A duke always invited me to his battues, and sent me game besides, while the lieutenancy of his county was vacant; though not even Lord Castleton had any thing to do with it. He got it from other interest, and from that instant no more invitations. One of the highest of the female haute noblesse, who was courted, like the sun by the Persians, for one genial ray, after I had been six months installed with Lord Castleton most graciously admitted me amongst her elect. I plumed myself upon it with Lady Hungerford. She smiled mischievously, and said, "Don't be too sure; wait till you or your patron is out of office." She was right.

A great colonist offered me one day twenty thousand acres of unreclaimed land, adding, if I did not like to turn settler myself, they might be sold to advantage. A West-India house sent me turtles; an East-India, a pipe of madeira; all which I returned, and made them enemies instead of friends. In a smaller way, I was invited to more dinners in one year than I could eat in ten.

All this I communicated to Lord Castleton, who enjoyed it himself, and said it would be "nuts," for Fothergill; to whom, to Manners, and my family, I gave a regular account

of my progress, and was pleased with the pleasure which my brothers expressed at t' young doctor's success.

One other consequence of this success was not unamusing. Several men whom I had known by sight at Oxford, in the walks and coffee-houses, to some of whom I had had slight introductions, but which they did their utmost to forget, were now of a sudden visited with a most accurate power of memory, and at Lord Castleton's table, or evening parties, and even, some of them, at the Opera and St. James's reminded me cordially of our former acquaintance, observing, often, that one great advantage of going to college was the making acquaintance with those whom they were afterwards to meet in the world. But vogue la galere, as the proverb says, and let us not be over nice as to the means.

From what I have related, a prospect which I had not exactly contemplated opened wide before me, in the knowledge of mankind which my situation promised to me. Other pro

ters.

fessions are in this respect confined chiefly to an intercourse with their own class: merchants with merchants, soldiers with soldiers, scholars with scholars, and even ministers with minisThese last are too great, or too occupied with great affairs to see the world in all its phases. It is their secretaries and confidants on whom the preliminary matters devolve without disguise, or with less of it; who hear and see characters, and examine cases, in more nakedness than their principals.

For example, I had not been a week installed, before a very popular member for a very populous place, where the election was always popular, came to me, and very frankly told me he would save me all the trouble he could; for that though, from the nature of his constituency, he should have to pester me with applications for Jack, Tom and Harry, yet unless he marked special upon them, I need not attend to them, still less need I trouble Lord Castleton ;-all he wanted being the power of honestly assuring his constituents that he had made application for them!

This was a curious instance of what is called cheating the devil.

I was myself, however, a little put to it, as to the portion of honesty I was expected to infuse into the civility necessary to be shown to my numerous applicants. To hear or read their cases was half my day's work, and I own, to escape the

reproach of insincerity was the most difficult part of my position. I wrote to Manners about this, and in answer, he told me I could not do better than consult Lord Castleton himself, who was always pleased with ingeniousness.

I did so, and laid before him the difficulties which my inexperience in a political office daily occasioned. He was amused with many cases I described to him, and told me to expect many more. "As for the honesty," observed he, "which you tell me is in such danger, all I can tell you is, preserve it, coute qu'il coute."

I honored him for this reply, to which he added a recommendation of a passage in one of Chesterfield's letters, which he said was a sort of breviary for men in office, though he feared, like other breviaries, too often neglected.

"The qualifications in the practical part of business are, an absolute command of temper; patience to hear frivolous, impertinent, and unreasonable applications; with address enough to refuse, without offending, or, by your manner of granting, to double the obligation; dexterity enough to conceal a truth without telling a lie."

"Is not this," said I, somewhat startled, "contradicting the excellent maxim of Cicero, that truth means, not only the not telling what is false, but the not concealing what is true?"*

"Very like a good scholar of Fothergill," replied Lord Castleton ; "but you are to mark that this applies only to history, and to those cases where to reveal a fact is a duty, not where to ask a thing may be an impertinence. As there can be no merit in bluntness, so there can be no harm in civility."

He then told me a bon mot of the king in regard to one of his colleagues, who was what is called a rough diamond, and, from the effect of his very honesty, the most unpopular of the cabinet. Lord Castleton, who respected him, said one day to the king (who had himself experienced his roughness), that it was a pity; for that if he were only commonly civil, his virtue was such, that he might do anything: "Yes," answered the king, "or if only commonly uncivil."

* "Ne quid falsi dicere audeat, ne quid veri non audeat."