assionate lover, that you have
all those virtues; and if not, she will never believe that you have
one."

"Ah! it was a pretty court of love in which the friend and biographer of
Count Grammont learned the art!" said Bolingbroke.

"We believed so at the time, my Lord; but there are as many changes
in the fashion of making love as there are in that of making dresses.
Honour me, Count Devereux, by using my snuff-box and then looking at the
lid."

"It is the picture of Charles the Second which adorns it; is it not?"

"No, Count Devereux, it is the diamonds which adorn it. His Majesty's
face I thought very beautiful while he was living; but now, on my
conscience, I consider it the ugliest phiz I ever beheld. But I directed
your notice to the picture because we were talking of love; and Old
Rowley believed that he could make it better than any one else. All his
courtiers had the same opinion of themselves; and I dare say the _beaux
garcons_ of Queen Anne's reign would say that not one of King Charley's
gang knew what love was. Oh! 'tis a strange circle of revolutions, that
love! Like the earth, it always changes, and yet always has the same
materials."

"_L'amour, l'amour, toujours l'amour_, with Count Anthony Hamilton!"
said Boulainvilliers. "He is always on that subject; and, _sacre bleu_!
when he was younger, I am told he was like Cacus, the son of Vulcan, and
breathed nothing but flames."

"You flatter me," said Hamilton. "Solve me now a knotty riddle, my Lord
Bolingbroke. Why does a young man think it the greatest compliment to be
thought wise, while an old man thinks it the greatest compliment to be
told he has been foolish?"

"Is love foolish then?" said Lord Bolingbroke.

"Can you doubt it?" answered Hamilton; "it makes a man think more of
another than himself! I know not a greater proof of folly!"

"Ah! _mon aimable ami_," cried Chaulieu; "you are the wickedest witty
person I know. I cannot help loving your language, while I hate your
sentiments."

"My language is my own; my sentiments are those of all men," answered
Hamilton: "but are we not, by the by, to have young Arouet here
to-night? What a charming person he is!"

"Yes," said Boulainvilliers. "He said he should be late; and I
expect Fontenelle, too, but _he_ will not come before supper. I found
Fontenelle this morning conversing with my cook on the best manner of
dressing asparagus. I asked him the other day what writer, ancient or
modern, had