somewhat aquiline; the mouth full, but perfectly beautiful, was set off by a round and well-formed chin.  Such was Lord Rochester in his zenith; and as he came forward on state occasions, his false light curls hanging down on his shoulders—­a cambric kerchief loosely tied, so as to let the ends, worked in point, fall gracefully down:  his scarlet gown in folds over a suit of light steel armour—­for men had become carpet knights then, and the coat of mail worn by the brave cavaliers was now less warlike, and was mixed up with robes, ruffles, and rich hose—­and when in this guise he appeared at Whitehall, all admired; and Charles was enchanted with the simplicity, the intelligence, and modesty of one who was then an ingenuous youth, with good aspirations, and a staid and decorous demeanour.

Woe to Lady Rochester—­woe to the mother who trusted her son’s innocence in that vitiated court!  Lord Rochester forms one of the many instances we daily behold, that it is those most tenderly cared for, who often fall most deeply, as well as most early, into temptation.  He soon lost every trace of virtue—­of principle, even of deference to received notions of propriety.  For a while there seemed hopes that he would not wholly fall:  courage was his inheritance, and he distinguished himself in 1665, when as a volunteer, he went in quest of the Dutch East India fleet, and served with heroic gallantry under Lord Sandwich.  And when he returned to court, there was a partial improvement in his conduct.  He even looked back upon his former indiscretions with horror:  he had now shared in the realities of life:  he had grasped a high and honourable ambition; but he soon fell away—­soon became almost a castaway.  ’For five years,’ he told Bishop Burnet, when on his death-bed, ’I was never sober.’  His reputation as a wit must rest, in the present day, chiefly upon productions which have long since been condemned as unreadable.  Strange to say, when not under the influence of wine, he was a constant student of classical authors, perhaps the worst reading for a man of his tendency:  all that was satirical and impure attracting him most.  Boileau, among French writers, and Cowley among the English, were his favourite authors.  He also read many books of physic; for long before thirty his constitution was so broken by his life, that he turned his attention to remedies, and to medical treatment; and it is remarkable how many men of dissolute lives take up the same sort of reading, in the vain hope of repairing a course of dissolute living.  As a writer, his style was at once forcible and lively; as a companion, he was wildly vivacious:  madly, perilously, did he outrage decency, insult virtue, profane religion.  Charles II. liked him on first acquaintance, for Rochester was a man of the most finished and fascinating manners; but at length there came a coolness, and the witty courtier was banished from Whitehall.  Unhappily for himself, he was recalled, and commanded to wait in London until his majesty should choose to readmit him into his presence.