has represented a character in "Vanity Fair"
as devouring it--and much amusement.

Now I had written my name _Chas._, which being mistaken for _Chev._, I in
due time, received an invitation addressed to M. le Chevalier Godfrey de
Leland. And it befell that I once found a lost decoration of the Order
of the Golden Spur, which in those days _was_ actually sold to anybody
who asked for it for ten pounds, and was worth "nothing to nobody." This
caused much fun among my friends, and from that day I was known as the
Chevalier Germanicus, or the Knight of the Golden Spur, to which I
assented with very good grace as a joke. There were even a few who
really believed that I had been decorated, though I never wore it, and
one day I received quite a severe remonstrance from a very patriotic
fellow-countryman against the impropriety of my thus risking my loss of
citizenship. Which caused me to reflect how many there are in life who
rise to such "honours," Heaven only knows how, in a back-stairs way. I
know in London a very great man of science, _nemini secundus_, who has
never been knighted, although the tradesman who makes for him his
implements and instruments has received the title and the _accolade_.
_Fie_ at justitia!

I saw at one of the Torlonia entertainments a marvellously beautiful and
strange thing, of which I had read an account in Mme. de Stael's
_Corinne_. There was a stage, on which appeared a young girl, plainly
dressed, and bearing a simple small scarf. She did not speak or dance,
or even assume "artistic positions"; what she did was far more striking
and wonderful. She merely sat or stood or reclined in many ways, every
one of which seemed to be _perfectly_ natural or habitual, and all of
which were incredibly graceful. I have forgotten how such women were
called in Italy. I am sure that this one had never been trained to it,
for the absolute ease and naturalness with which she sat or stood could
never have been taught. If it could, every woman in the world would
learn it. Ristori was one of these instinctive _Graces_, and it
constituted nearly all the art there was in her.

This was in 1846. The Carnival of that year in Rome was the last real
one which Italy ever beheld. It was the very last, for which every soul
saved up all his money for months, in order to make a wild display, and
dance and revel and indulge in

"Eating, drinking, masking,
And other things which could be had for a