conscience, I consider it the ugliest phiz I ever beheld. But I
directed your notice to the picture because we were talking of love; and
Old Rowley believed that he could make it better than any one else. All
his courtiers had the same opinion of themselves; and I dare say the
/beaux garcons/ of Queen Anne's reign would say that not one of King
Charley's gang knew what love was. Oh! 'tis a strange circle of
revolutions, that love! Like the earth, it always changes, and yet
always has the same materials."

"/L'amour, l'amour, toujours l'amour/, with Count Anthony Hamilton!"
said Boulainvilliers. "He is always on that subject; and, /sacre bleu/!
when he was younger, I am told he was like Cacus, the son of Vulcan, and
breathed nothing but flames."

"You flatter me," said Hamilton. "Solve me now a knotty riddle, my Lord
Bolingbroke. Why does a young man think it the greatest compliment to
be thought wise, while an old man thinks it the greatest compliment to
be told he has been foolish?"

"Is love foolish then?" said Lord Bolingbroke.

"Can you doubt it?" answered Hamilton; "it makes a man think more of
another than himself! I know not a greater proof of folly!"

"Ah! /mon aimable ami/," cried Chaulieu; "you are the wickedest witty
person I know. I cannot help loving your language, while I hate your
sentiments."

"My language is my own; my sentiments are those of all men," answered
Hamilton: "but are we not, by the by, to have young Arouet here