water-cress. That Boyle was convulsed at the falling of water from a tap. That Peter the Great could never be persuaded to cross a bridge; and though he tried to master the terror, he failed to do so. That Byron would never help any one to salt at the table, nor be helped himself. That an air that was beneficial to Schiller acted upon Goethe like poison. ("I called on him one day," said Goethe to Soret, "and as I did not find him at home, and his wife told me that he would soon return, I seated myself at his work-table to note down various matters. I had not been seated long before I felt a strange indisposition steal over me, which gradually increased, until at last I nearly fainted. At first I did not know to what cause I should ascribe this wretched and, to me, unusual state, until I discovered that a dreadful odor issued from a drawer near me. When I opened it, I found to my astonishment that it was full of rotten apples. I immediately went to the window and inhaled the fresh air, by which I felt myself instantly restored. In the meantime his wife had reentered, and told me that the drawer was always filled with rotten apples, because the scent was beneficial to Schiller, and he could not live or work without it.") That Queen Elizabeth issued proclamations against excessive apparel, leaving three thousand changes of dress in the royal wardrobe. That Bayle, the faithful compiler of impurities, "resisted the corruption of the senses as much as Newton." That Smollett, who has so grossly offended decency in his novels, had an immaculate private character. That Cowley, who boasts with so much gayety of the versatility of his passion amongst so many sweethearts, wanted the confidence even to address one. That Seneca philosophized so wisely and eloquently upon the blessings of poverty and moderate desires, while usuriously lending his seven millions, and writing his homilies on a table of solid gold. That Sir Thomas More, who, in his Utopia, declares that no man should be punished for his religion, was a fierce persecutor, racking and burning men at the stake for heresy. That Young, the author of the sombre Night Thoughts, was known as the gayest of his circle of acquaintance. That Moliere, the famous French humorist and writer of comedies, bore himself with habitual seriousness and melancholy. That he married an actress, who made him experience all those bitter disgusts and embarrassments which he himself played off at the theatre. That the cynicism and bitterness exhibited in the writings of Rousseau were in consequence of an unfortunate marriage to an ill-bred, illiterate woman, who ruled him as with a rod of iron. That Addison's fine taste in morals and in life could suffer the ambition of a courtier to prevail with himself to seek a countess, who drove him contemptuously into solitude and shortened his days. That the impulsive and genial Steele married a cold, precise Miss Prue, as he called her, from whom he never parted without bickerings.