beautiful favourite? Think of the hundred black slaves, with their torches of scented wax—the guards with their gorgeous turbans and glittering cimeters—the lighted galleries of the palace—the gardens with their thousand lamps—the sparkling fountains—and the lake, one gigantic mirror of the whole festival."
Edward Lorraine.—"As only inferior to my own subject: every one has his favourite hero; and mine, the only gentleman Rome ever possessed, is Lucullus. I have a very disrespectful feeling towards your great men who piqued themselves on wearing an old cloak, and who resorted to peeling turnips as an elegant employment for their leisure hours. Lucullus conquered; and, after energy and exertion, sought refinement and repose. He cultivated his thoughts instead of his radishes; and he studied that union of luxury and philosophy, which is the excellence of refinement. My picture is 'Lucullus at supper.'"
Emily Arundel.—"Nay, I cannot admit the superiority of your subject."
Edward Lorraine.—"Because you have not considered it. I suppose him at supper that night when he gave that superb reply, dictated in the noblest spirit of self-appreciation,
