“What can he be?” said big Miss Bas-Bleu. “Where can he be?” said little Miss Bas-Bleu.—But I paid these people no attention whatever—I just stepped into the shop of an artist. The Duchess of Bless-my-Soul was sitting for her portrait; the Marquis of So-and-So was holding the Duchess’ poodle; the Earl of This-and-That was flirting with her salts; and his Royal Highness of Touch-me-Not was leaning upon the back of her chair. I approached the artist and turned up my nose. “Oh, beautiful!” sighed her Grace. “Oh my!” lisped the Marquis. “Oh, shocking!” groaned the Earl. “Oh, abominable!” growled his Royal Highness. “What will you take for it?” asked the artist. “For his nose!” shouted her Grace. “A thousand pounds,” said I, sitting down. “A thousand pounds?” inquired the artist, musingly. “A thousand pounds,” said I. “Beautiful!” said he, entranced. “A thousand pounds,” said I. “Do you warrant it?” he asked, turning the nose to the light. “I do,” said I, blowing it well. “Is it quite original?” he inquired; touching it with reverence. “Humph!” said I, twisting it to one side. “Has no copy been taken?” he demanded, surveying it through a microscope. “None,” said I, turning it up. “Admirable!” he ejaculated, thrown quite off his guard by the beauty of the manœuvre. “A thousand pounds,” said I. “A thousand pounds?” said he. “Precisely,” said I. “A thousand pounds?” said he. “Just so,” said I. “You shall have them,” said he. “What a piece of virtu!” So he drew me a check upon the spot, and took a sketch of my nose. I engaged rooms in Jermyn street, and sent her Majesty the ninety-ninth edition of the “Nosology,” with a portrait of the proboscis.—That sad little rake, the Prince of Wales, invited me to dinner. We were all lions and _recherchés_. There was a modern Platonist. He quoted Porphyry, Iamblicus, Plotinus, Proclus, Hierocles, Maximus Tyrius, and Syrianus. There was a human-perfectibility man. He quoted Turgôt, Price, Priestly, Condorcêt, De Staël, and the “Ambitious Student in Ill Health.” There was Sir Positive Paradox. He observed that all fools were philosophers, and that all philosophers were fools. There was Æstheticus Ethix. He spoke of fire, unity, and atoms; bi-part and pre-existent soul; affinity and discord; primitive intelligence and homoömeria. There was Theologos Theology. He talked of Eusebius and Arianus; heresy and the Council of Nice; Puseyism and consubstantialism; Homousios and Homouioisios.