Fashion with us is like the man in one of Le Sage's novels, who was constantly changing his servants, and yet had but one suit of livery, which every new comer, whether he was tall or short, fat or thin, was obliged to wear.

We adopt manners, however incongruous and ill suited to our nature, and thus we always seem awkward and constrained.

But Lydia White's soirees are indeed agreeable.

I remember the last time I dined there we were six in number, and though we were not blessed with the company of Lord Vincent, the conversation was without 'let or flaw.' Every one, even S----, said good things." "Indeed!" cried Lord Vincent; "and pray, Mr.Wormwood, what did you say!" "Why," answered the poet, glancing with a significant sneer over Vincent's somewhat inelegant person, "I thought of your lordship's figure, and said--grace!" "Hem--hem!--'Gratia malorum tam infida est quam ipsi,' as Pliny says," muttered Lord Vincent, getting up hastily, and buttoning his coat.
I took the opportunity of the ensuing pause to approach Lady Roseville, and whisper my adieus.

She was kind and even warm to me in returning them; and pressed me, with something marvellously like sincerity, to be sure to come and see her directly she returned to London.