If he was English in his pride of government and his sense of national power and greatness, he was Irish in his tastes, his habits, and his affections. If he gloried in the name of Briton as the type of national honor and truth throughout the globe, he was still more ardently attached to that land where, under the reflected grandeur of the monarchy, grew up the social affections of a poorer people. There is a sense of freedom and independence in the habits of semi-civilization very fascinating to certain minds, and all the advantages of more polished communities are deemed shallow compensation for the ready compliance and cordial impulses of the less cultivated. With all his own high acquirements the Knight was of this mind; and if he did not love England less, he loved Ireland more. Meditating on the great changes of fortune Ireland had undergone even within his own memory, he moved along through the crowded thoroughfares of the mighty city, when he heard his name called out, and at the same instant a carriage drew up close by him. “How do you do, Knight?” said a friendly voice, as a hand was stretched forth to greet him. It was Lord Castle-reagh, who had only a few weeks previous exchanged his office of Irish Secretary for a post at the Board of Trade. The meeting was a cordial one on both sides, and ended in an invitation to dine on the following day, which Darcy accepted with willingness, as a gage of mutual good feeling and esteem. “I was talking about you to Lord Netherby only yesterday,” said Lord Castlereagh, “and, from some hints he dropped, I suspect the time is come that I may offer you any little influence I possess, without it taking the odious shape of a bargain; if so, pray remember that I have as much pride as yourself on such a score, and will be offended if you accept from another what might come equally well through _me_.” The Knight acknowledged this kind speech with a grateful smile and a pressure of the hand, and was about to move on, when Lord Castlereagh asked if he could not drop him in his carriage at his destination, and thus enjoy, a few moments longer, his society. “I scarcely can tell you, my Lord,” said Darcy, laughing, “which way I was bent on following. I came up to town to present myself at the Duke of York's levée, and it is only a few moments since I remembered that I was not provided with a uniform.” “Oh, step in then,” cried Lord Castlereagh, hastily; “I think I can manage that difficulty for you. There is a levée this very morning; some pressing intelligence has arrived from Egypt, and his Royal Highness has issued a notice for a reception for eleven o'clock. You are not afraid,” said Lord Castlereagh, laughing, as Darcy took his seat beside him,--“you are not afraid of being seen in such company now.” “If I am not, my Lord, set my courage down to my principle; for I never felt your kindness so dangerous,” said the Knight, with something of emotion.