shed; still
it is possible that some long-disregarded treasury of old letters, like
that in the Gallery at Wotton, may come to light. From that precious
deposit a housemaid--blotted for ever be her name from memory's
page--was purloining sheets of yellow paper, with antiquated writing on
them, to light her fires with, when the late William Upcott came to the
rescue, and saved Evelyn's 'Diary' for a grateful world. It is _just_
possible that such a discovery may again be made, and that the doings of
George Villiers, or the exile life of Wharton, or the inmost thoughts of
other Wits and Beaux may be made to appear in clearer lights than
heretofore; but it is much more likely that the popular opinions about
these witty, worthless men are substantially true.

All that has been collected, therefore, to form this work--and, as in
the 'Queens of Society,' every known source has been consulted--assumes
a sterling value as being collected; and, should hereafter fresh
materials be disinterred from any old library closet in the homes of
some one descendant of our heroes, advantage will be gladly taken to
improve, correct, and complete the lives.

One thing must, in justice, be said: if they have been written freely,
fearlessly, they have been written without passion or prejudice. The
writers, though not _quite_ of the stamp of persons who would never have
'dared to address' any of the subjects of their biography, 'save with
courtesy and obeisance,' have no wish to 'trample on the graves' of such
very amusing personages as the 'Wits and Beaux of Society.' They have
even been lenient to their memory, hailing every good trait gladly, and
pointing out with no unsparing hand redeeming virtues; and it cannot
certainly be said, in this instance, that the good has been 'interred
with the bones' of the personages herein described, although the evil
men do, 'will live after them.'

But whilst a biographer is bound to give the fair as well as the dark
side of his subject, he has still to remember that biography is a trust,
and that it should not be an eulogium. It is his duty to reflect that in
many instances it must be regarded even as a warning.

The moral conclusions of these lives of 'Wits and Beaux' are, it is
admitted, just: vice is censured; folly rebuked; ungentlemanly conduct,
even in a beau of the highest polish, exposed; irreligion finds no
toleration under gentle names--heartlessness no palliation from its
being the way of th