And the whole square-mile or so of space is continuously a Garden, not in the English sense, though it has its own beauties of the more artificial kind; and, at any rate, has memories for you, and footsteps of persons still unforgotten by mankind .-- Here is a Notice of Lord Marischal; which readers will not grudge; the chronology of the worthy man, in these his later epochs, being in so hazy a state:-- Lord Marischal, we know well and Pitt knows, was in England in 1761,--ostensibly on the Kintore Heritage; and in part, perhaps, really on that errand.

But he went and came, at dates now uncertain; was back in Spain after that, had difficult voyagings about; [King's Letters to him, in _OEuvres de Frederic,_ xx.

282-285.]--and did not get to rest again, in his Government of Neufchatel, till April, 1762.

There is a Letter of the King's, which at least fixes that point:-- "BRESLAU, 10th APRIL, 1762.

My nose is the most impertinent nose in the universe, MON CHER MYLORD [Queen-Dowager snuff, SPANIOL from the fountain-head, of Marischal's providing; quality exquisite, but difficult to get transmitted in the Storms of War]; I am ashamed of the trouble it costs you! I beg many pardons;--and should be quite abashed, did I not know how you compassionate the weak points of your friends, and that, for a long time past, you have a singular indulgence for my nose.