were Cavaliers, as well as the Beaux. One hears of no repartee among
Cromwell's followers; no dash, no merriment, in Fairfax's staff;
eloquence, indeed, but no wit in the Parliamentarians; and, in truth, in
the second Charles's time, the king might have headed the lists of the
Wits himself--such a capital man as his Majesty is known to have been
for a wet evening or a dull Sunday; such a famous teller of a
story--such a perfect diner-out: no wonder that in his reign we had
George Villiers, second Duke of Buckingham of that family, 'mankind's
epitome,' who had every pretension to every accomplishment combined in
himself. No wonder we could attract De Grammont and Saint Evremond to
our court; and own, somewhat to our discredit be it allowed, Rochester
and Beau Fielding. Every reign has had its wits, but those in Charles's
time were so numerous as to distinguish the era by an especial
brilliancy. Nor let it be supposed that these annals do not contain a
moral application. They show how little the sparkling attributes herein
pourtrayed conferred happiness; how far more the rare, though certainly
real touches of genuine feeling and strong affection, which appear here
and there even in the lives of the most thoughtless 'Wits and Beaux,'
elevate the character in youth, or console the spirit in age. They prove
how wise has been that change in society which now repudiates the 'Wit'
as a distinct class; and requires general intelligences as a
compensation for lost repartees, or long obsolete practical jokes.

'Men are not all evil:' so in the life of George Villiers, we find him
kind-hearted, and free from hypocrisy. His old servants--and the fact
speaks in extenuation of one of our wildest Wits and Beaux--loved him
faithfully. De Grammont, we all own, has little to redeem him except his
good-nature: Rochester's latest days were almost hallowed by his
penitence. Chesterfield is saved by his kindness to the Irish, and his
affection for his son. Horace Walpole had human affections, though a