How brilliant was the talk of the band of men over whom Lord Granville held the conductor’s baton! Quin, the famous homeopathic doctor and wit, was one of the favoured guests; his life had been varied. In 1821, when a mere lad of twenty-two, he had been appointed to go out to St. Helena as private physician to Napoleon, but the Emperor died before he could start, so he set up in his profession at Naples. Afterwards he was attached to King Leopold. He was, I believe, Hahnemann’s first disciple in England and was very much the fashion, though more as a man of the world than as a doctor. His wit and fun were rather boisterous, but there was a deep stratum of wisdom underneath, and he was a valued friend of great men, even among those who laughed at his globules. He it was whom Disraeli in 1868 persuaded to sound Lord Granville as to the possibility of their uniting forces. Naturally Lord Granville declined in a very pretty note, but at the same time he paid Quin the compliment of saying that no better emissary could have been chosen. If Quin’s chaff was rather of the sledge-hammer order, that of Alfred Montgomery, enhanced by a slight stammer, was always delicate and as fine as the edge of a razor. Not that it was ever cutting or cruel, though he could rebuke impertinence on occasions. His famous answer to Mr. Poole, the tailor, was a case in point. Mr. Poole had been sent for to Bradgate to measure Lord Stamford; for reasons which it is needless to revive, Bradgate was not quite well looked upon. Alfred happened to go into Poole’s shop when he came back and asked him who had been staying at Bradgate. “Oh! a very mixed lot, sir, a very mixed lot.” “Confound it, Mr. Poole,” was the answer, with his captivating stammer, “you could not expect them to be all t-t-tailors!” “The only thing which I cannot resist is temptation,” was shamelessly cribbed by Oscar Wilde.