Among the Diaries beginning with the second quarter of our century, there is frequent mention of a lady then becoming famous for her beauty and her wit: "an unusual combination," in the deliberate syllables of one of the writers, who is, however, not disposed to personal irony when speaking of her.

We are betrayed by what is false within

Heiresses are never jilted.

George Eliot has the heart of Sappho; but the face, with the long proboscis, the protruding teeth of the Apocalyptic horse, betrayed animality.

She poured a little social sewage into his ears.

She whom I love is hard to catch and conquer, Hard, but O the glory of the winning were she won!

Prepare, You lovers, to know Love a thing of moods: Not like hard life, of laws.