ated his intellect rather
in the world than the closet. I mean, that, perfectly ignorant of
things, he was driven to converse solely upon persons, and, having
imbibed no other philosophy than that which worldly deceits and
disappointments bestow, his remarks, though shrewd, were bitterly
sarcastic, and partook of all the ill-nature for which a very scanty
knowledge of the world gives a sour and malevolent mind so ready an
excuse.

"How very disagreeable Lord Borodaile is!" said Lady Flora, when the
object of the remark turned away and rejoined some idlers of his corps.

"Disagreeable!" said Lady Westborough. "I think him charming: he is so
sensible. How true his remarks on the world are!"

Thus is it always; the young judge harshly of those who undeceive or
revolt their enthusiasm; and the more advanced in years, who have not
learned by a diviner wisdom to look upon the human follies and errors by
which they have suffered with a pitying and lenient eye, consider
every maxim of severity on those frailties as the proof of a superior
knowledge, and praise that as a profundity of thought which in reality
is but an infirmity of temper.

Clarence is now engaged in a minuet de la tour with the beautiful
Countess of ----, the best dancer of the day in England. Lady Flora is
flirting with half a dozen beaux, the more violently in proportion as
she observes the animation with which Clarence converses, and the grace
with which his partner moves; and, having thus left our two principal
personages occupied and engaged, let us turn for a moment to a room
which we have not entered.

This is a forlorn, deserted chamber, destined to cards, which are never
played in this temple of Terpsichore. At the far end of this room,
opposite to the fireplace, are seated four men, engaged in earnest
conversation.

The tallest of these was Lord Quintown, a nobleman remarkable at that
day for his personal advantages, his good fortune with the beau sexe,
his attempts at parliamentary eloquence, in which he was lamentably
unsuccessful, and his adherence to Lord North. Next to him sat Mr. St.
George, the younger brother of Lord St. George, a gentleman to whom
power and place seemed married without hope of divorce; for, whatever
had been the changes of ministry for the last twelve years, he,
secure in a lucrative though subordinate situation, had "smiled at
the whirlwind and defied the storm," and, while all things shifted and
vanished round him,