Vincent muttered something which, as I really liked and esteemed him, I was resolved not to hear; accordingly I turned to another part of the room: there I found Lady Dawton--she was a tall, handsome woman, as proud as a liberal’s wife ought to be. She received me with unusual graciousness, and I sat myself beside her. Three dowagers, and an old beau of the old school, were already sharing the conversation with the haughty countess. I found that the topic was society. “No,” said the old beau, who was entitled Mr. Clarendon, “society is very different from what it was in my younger days. You remember, Lady Paulet, those delightful parties at D--House? where shall we ever find any thing like them? Such ease, such company--even the mixture was so piquant, if one chanced to sit next a bourgeois, he was sure to be distinguished for his wit or talent. People were not tolerated, as now, merely for their riches.” “True,” cried Lady Dawton, “it is the introduction of low persons, without any single pretension, which spoils the society of the present day!” And the three dowagers sighed amen, to this remark. “And yet,” said I, “since I may safely say so here without being suspected of a personality in the shape of a compliment, don’t you think, that without any such mixture, we should be very indifferent company? Do we not find those dinners and soirees the pleasantest where we see a minister next to a punster, a poet to a prince, and a coxcomb like me next to a beauty like Lady Dawton? The more variety there is in the conversation, the more agreeable it becomes.” “Very just,” answered Mr. Clarendon; “but it is precisely because I wish for that variety that I dislike a miscellaneous society. If one does not know the person beside whom one has the happiness of sitting, what possible subject can one broach with any prudence. I put politics aside, because, thanks to party spirit, we rarely meet those we are strongly opposed to; but if we sneer at the methodists, our neighbour may be a saint--if we abuse a new book, he may have written it--if we observe that the tone of the piano-forte is bad, his father may have made it--if we complain of the uncertainty of the banking interest, his uncle may have been gazetted last week. I name no exaggerated instances; on the contrary, I refer these general remarks to particular individuals, whom all of us have probably met. Thus, you see, that a variety of topics is prescribed in a mixed company, because some one or other of them will be certain to offend.”