I shall consider myself sold to the devil, and for more than my value, when I accept any distinction, or anything else from any man living.

The Whigs are growing unpopular, I hear.

I hope never to meet any of them.

Last night, however, I talked a little with Grantley Berkeley, and told him a bit of my mind.

You see, I have not much more room in my paper, else I should be obliged to tell you that the bells are ringing, and that I have only just time to put on my gloves for church.
"Adieu, and believe me with kindly regards to the ladies, "Yours, "W.S.L." * * * * * The last in this series of letters which has reached my hands is altogether undated, but appears by the post-mark to have been written from Bath, 19th July, 1838.
* * * * * "MY DEAR SIR,--There is one sentence in your letter which shocked me not a little.