remembering the Queen’s promise that Willis should never be called in again in case of the King’s illness. Willis on that occasion consented to stay with the King after a fearful scene had taken place with the Queen, her doctors, and council. When Mr. Julian Young knew Willis, from whom he had the above details, the doctor was above eighty years of age, upright and active. He was still a mighty hunter; and, unless Mr. Young was misinformed, on the very day before his death he shot two or three brace of snipes in the morning, and danced at the Lincoln ball at night. Willis did not reach his hundredth year, as Dr. Routh, of Magdalen College, Oxford, did. Just before the death of the latter, Lord Campbell visited and had a long conversation with him. At parting the centenarian remarked: ‘I hope it will not be many years before we meet again.’ ‘Did he think,’ said Lord Campbell afterwards, ‘that he and I were going to live for ever?’ Monarchs, who have to submit to many tyrannies by which monarchs alone can suffer, must have an especial dread of levees and presentations. The monotony must be killing; at the very best, irritating. George IV. had the stately dreariness very much relieved. On one occasion, when a nervous gentleman was bowing and passing before him, a lord-in-waiting kindly whispered to him, ‘Kiss hands!’ The nervous gentleman accordingly moved on to the door, turned round, and there kissed his hands airily to the King by way of kindly farewell! George IV. laughed almost as heartily as his brother, King William, did at an unlucky alderman who was at Court on the only day Mr. Julian Young ever felt himself constrained to go into the royal presence. The alderman’s dress-sword got between his legs as he was backing from that presence, whereby he was tripped up and fell backwards on the floor. King William cared not a fig for dignity. He remarked with great glee to those who stood near: ‘By Jove! the fellow has cut a crab!’ and the kingly laughter was, as it were, poured point blank into the floundering alderman. This was not encouraging to Mr. Young, who had to follow. As newly-appointed royal chaplain in Hampton Court Palace Chapel, King William had expressed a wish to see him at a levee, and obedience was a duty. The chaplain had been told by Sir Horace Seymour that he had nothing to do but follow the example of the gentleman who might happen to be before him. The principal directions to the neophyte were: ‘Bow very low, and do not turn your back on the King!’ The instant the chaplain had kissed the King’s hand, however, he turned his back upon his sovereign, and hurried off. Sir Horace Seymour afterwards consoled him for this breach of etiquette by stating that a Surrey baronet who had followed him made a wider breach in court observance. The unlucky baronet, seeing the royal hand outstretched, instead of reverently putting his lips to it, caught hold of it and wrung it heartily! The