“I cannot thank you, Sir John,” she said. "You must take it to Sir Rowland Trenchard's in Southampton Fields. A wide terrace then led to large iron gates,' over which were placed the two celebrated figures of Raving and Melancholy Madness, executed by the elder Cibber, and commemorated by Pope in the Dunciad, in the wellknown lines:— "Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where, o'er the gates, by his famed father's hand, Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand. " "Well, Sir, I must say you deserve some credit for your ingenuity, at all events," replied Jonathan, repressing a smile; "but, before you put out your foot so far, it would have been quite as prudent to consider how you were to draw it back again. Sir Cecil, who with Rowland and some others had entered the room rushed to the window with a torch. She found herself asking more and more curiously, “Why, on the principle of the survival of the fittest, have I any sense of beauty at all?” That enabled her to go on thinking about beauty when it seemed to her right that she should be thinking about biology. “I——” The door opened, and the doctor entered softly. "Because they're in the next room, and the door's shut; that's vy, my jack-adandy!" replied Abraham, unsuspiciously. I wouldn't be in his skin for a trifle!" "But he may peach," said Smith casting an oblique glance at Jackson.
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