claret; and when he has reached the sixth or seventh, he may revel in champagne and burgundy.”  The two ends of the table were occupied by the two partners, one of whom laughed at the clever things said by the poet, while the other maintained his sedateness and kept on carving.  “His gravity was explained to us by my friend Buckthorne.  He informed me that the concerns of the house were admirably distributed among the partners.  Thus, for instance, said he, the grave gentleman is the carving partner, who attends to the joints; and the other is the laughing partner, who attends to the jokes.”  If any of the jokes from the lower end of the table reached the upper end, they seldom produced much effect.  “Even the laughing partner did not think it necessary to honor them with a smile; which my neighbor Buckthorne accounted for by informing me that there was a certain degree of popularity to be obtained before a book seller could afford to laugh at an author’s jokes.”

In August, 1820, we find Irving in Paris, where his reputation secured him a hearty welcome:  he was often at the Cannings’ and at Lord Holland’s; Talma, then the king of the stage, became his friend, and there he made the acquaintance of Thomas Moore, which ripened into a familiar and lasting friendship.  The two men were drawn to each other; Irving greatly admired the “noble hearted, manly, spirited little fellow, with a mind as generous as his fancy is brilliant.”  Talma was playing “Hamlet” to overflowing houses, which hung on his actions with breathless attention, or broke into ungovernable applause; ladies were carried fainting from the boxes.  The actor is described as short in stature, rather inclined to fat, with a large face and a thick neck; his eyes are bluish, and have a peculiar cast in them at times.  He said to Irving that he thought the French character much changed—­graver; the day of the classic drama, mere declamation and fine language, had gone by; the Revolution had taught them to demand real life, incident, passion, character.  Irving’s life in Paris was gay enough, and seriously interfered with his literary projects.  He had the fortunes of his brother Peter on his mind also, and invested his earnings, then and for some years after, in enterprises for his benefit that ended in disappointment.

The “Sketch-Book” was making a great fame for him in England.  Jeffrey, in the “Edinburgh Review,” paid it a most flattering tribute, and even the savage “Quarterly” praised it.  A rumor attributed it to Scott, who was always masquerading; at least, it was said, he might have revised it, and should have the credit of its exquisite style.  This led to a sprightly correspondence between Lady Littleton, the daughter of Earl Spencer, one of the most accomplished and lovely women of England, and Benjamin Rush, Minister to the Court of St. James, in the course of which Mr. Rush suggested the propriety of giving out under his official seal that Irving was the author of “Waverley.”  “Geoffrey