Mr. Buckle gave an amusing account of the origin of the wigs which the lawyers wear in England, and which, by the way, struck me as infinitely ludicrous when I saw them on the heads of the judges and counsel in Westminster Hall.  Originally the clergy were forbidden to practise law, and, as they were the best lawyers, the wig was worn to conceal the tonsure.  He had anecdotes to tell of Johnson, Lamb, Macaulay, Voltaire, Talleyrand, etc., and quoted passages from Burke and from Junius at length in the exact words.  Junius he considers proved to be Sir Philip Francis.  He told a good story against Wordsworth, contained in a letter from Lamb to Talfourd, which the latter showed to Buckle, but had considered among the things too personal to be published.  Wordsworth was decrying Shakspeare.  “Pooh!” he said, “it is all very easy:  I could write like Shakspeare myself, if I had a mind to!” “Precisely so,” rejoined Lamb,—­“if you had a mind to.”

Mr. Buckle does not think much of the ancient Egyptian civilization, differing in this respect toto caelo from Hekekyan Bey, who finds in the monuments proofs of the existence of an expansive popular government.  Buckle declares that the machines, as figured in the hieroglyphics, are of the most primitive kind,—­and that the learning, by all accounts, was confined to the priests, and covered a very narrow range, exhibiting no traces of acquaintance with the higher useful arts.  He says it is a fallacy to suppose that savages are bodily superior to civilized men.  Captain Cook found that his sailors could outwork the islanders.  I remarked, in confirmation, that our Harvard boat-clubs won the prizes in rowing-matches against all comers.  Buckle seemed interested, and asked for a more particular account, which, of course, I took great pleasure in giving.  C., like a true Englishman, doubted the general fact, and said the Thames watermen out-rowed their university-clubs.

For Turkish civilization Mr. Buckle has not the slightest respect,—­said he could write the whole of it on the back of his hand; and here Hekekyan Bey cordially agreed with him.  Buckle is very fond of chess, and can play two games at once blindfold.  He inquired very particularly about a native here who it is said can play four or six in this manner, and said he should like to try a game with him.  He had seen Paulsen, but not Morphy.

Mr. Thayer asked him if in England he had been subjected to personal hostility for his opinions, or to anything like social ostracism.  He said, generally not.  A letter from a clergyman to an acquaintance in England, expressing intense antipathy to him, although he had never seen the writer, was the only evidence of this kind of opposition.  “In fact,” said he, naively, “the people of England have such an admiration of any kind of intellectual splendor that they will forgive for its sake the most objectionable doctrines.”  He told us that the portion