At the date of that ceremony, Sir Robert’s close political connection with the future Parliamentary chiefs was but in its infancy. His views of public policy were fast ripening, and had borne fruit. His private friendships were more and more shaping themselves into accordance with his tendencies in politics. Amongst those whose intimacy he cultivated—besides that of ELIOT and others who have been mentioned already—were Symonds D’EWES, and John SELDEN. [Sidenote: FRIENDS AND HOSPITALITIES.] It was at COTTON’S hospitable table, in Old Palace Yard, that the two men last named first made acquaintance with each other. Both were scholars; both were strongly imbued with the true antiquarian tinge; both had an extensive acquaintance with the black-letter lore of jurisprudence, as well as with the more elegant branches of archæology; and both, up to a certain point, had common aims in public life; yet they did not draw very near together. SELDEN’S more robust mind, and his wider sympathies, shocked some of the puritanic nicenesses of D’EWES. Precisely the same remark would hold good of the relations between COTTON and D’EWES. But a certain geniality of manners in Sir Robert, combined with his grandee-like openness of hand and mind, attracted his fellow-baronet in a degree which went some way towards vanquishing D’EWES’ most ingrained scruples. [Sidenote: Harl. MS., as above.] ‘I had much more familiarity with Sir Robert COTTON, than with Master SELDEN,’ jots down Sir Symonds in his Autobiographic _Diary_, and then he adds: ‘SELDEN being a man exceedingly puffed up with the apprehension of his own abilities.’ That last sentence,—as the reader, perhaps, will agree with me in thinking,—may possibly tell a more veracious tale of the writer, than of the man whom it reproves. Be that as it may, the dining-room in Old Palace Yard witnessed frequent meetings of many groups of visitors of whose tabletalk it would be delightful could we find as good a record as we have of the tabletalk in Bolt Court, or at Streatham Park; or even as we have of almost contemporary talk around the board at Hawthornden. Glorious old Ben himself was a frequent guest at Sir Robert COTTON’S table. Until late in JAMES’ reign, CAMDEN, when his growing infirmities permitted him to journey up from Chislehurst, would still be seen there, now and again. During the rare sessions of Parliament, many a famous member, as he left the House of Commons, would join the circle. And the high discourse about Greeks and Romans, about poetry and archæology, would be pleasantly varied, by the newest themes of politics, by occasional threnodies on the exorbitant power of court minions, but also by occasional and glowing anticipations of a better time to come.