The newspaper ad placed by Honeywell Inc. to attract computer technicians was a high-class bit of copy and featured drawings of those two great authors of Principia Mathematica, Alfred North Whitehead (1861-1947) and Bertrand Russell (1872-1967). The late Bertrand Russell? Hardly. At 96, he is very much alive at his home in Wales. And when he heard that Honeywell also makes anti-personnel bombs as well as computers, he was even more willing to carry out a lawsuit he had filed for unauthorized use of his name and picture. After dryly noting the "somewhat misleading legend" about his death, Russell finally settled for the ad agency's apology and a check for $400 made out to the Bertrand Russell Peace Foundation.

What the young firebrand proposed was nothing less than a commando raid on the coast of England or Ireland. The invaders would capture "some ministerial Men of Consequence" and then exchange them for a captured American diplomat. The raid never materialized, but the war was won anyway and the plotter went on to triumphs in other fields. He was John Jay, first Chief Justice of the United States, who in 1781, as a 35-year-old emissary to Spain, hatched the kidnaping scheme in a letter to a friend in France. Jay's daring plan remained virtually unknown for nearly two centuries until the letter was placed on exhibit at the John Jay Homestead in Katonah, N.Y.

On a trip undertaken in memory of her husband, Coretta King, widow of Martin Luther King Jr., traveled to Rome for a private audience with Pope Paul VI. She then went on to New Delhi to accept the $13,300 Jawaharlal Nehru Award for International Understanding, which was given to her husband posthumously. After accepting the honor from India's President Zakir Husain, Mrs. King listened to a group of students softly sing We Shall Overcome, and, in a gracious speech, said: "My heart is greatly warmed and my spirit is greatly lifted by this profound recognition. I accept it as a tribute to a well-fought fight in progress. To the great task ahead, I humbly rededicate my life."

In the mid-16th century, a slave picked an oyster from the sea off Panama's Pacific coast, and found inside a treasure of staggering size and beauty: a magnificent, 203.84-grain pear-shaped drop pearl. Over the years, La Peregrina (The Wanderer), as the gem came to be called, passed from Philip II of Spain to his English wife Mary Tudor ("Bloody Mary"), then on to the Bonapartes of France, and to England's Marquess of Abercorn. Last week La Peregrina turned up on the block at Manhattan's Parke-Bernet Galleries, and it was swiftly sold for $37,000. The buyer? Parke-Bernet was not saying, but reporters had an inkling. Less than a year ago, Richard Burton had bought the Krupp diamond for $305,000 at a similar sale. After a little prodding, Burton's lawyers explained that Liz's birthday is less than a month away, so Dickie had snapped up La Peregrina as his gift.

Waving and smiling at the crowds lining the streets, the Soviet Union's latest space heroes, the Soyuz 4 and 5 cosmonauts, received a tumultuous welcome in Moscow. Then, as the 20-car motorcade began to pass through the Kremlin's Borovitsky Gate, a young man suddenly fired six pistol shots at the third car. The driver and a motorcycle outrider were wounded. Bystanders apparently overpowered the gunman and police hustled him away. Whom was he trying to kill? Possibly, the gunman thought he was aiming at Party Boss Leonid Brezhnev and Soviet President Nikolai Podgorny (Brezhnev and other Soviet leaders were reportedly in the following car). In any event, the Soviets dismissed him as a "mentally disturbed" youth of about 20. It was a convenient label, since a favorite Soviet device for dealing with political dissenters is to lock them up in insane asylums.

For a moment, it looked as if someone had doused her with water. No, said Twiggy, the outfit is supposed to look that way--sopping wet. At a show in London's Ritz Hotel, fashion's will-o'-the-wisp unveiled the latest shapes from her designing firm: slippery nylon tights that have a "liquid look." But why the bags in the knees and the sags in the ankles? "It's just Twiggy," explained Justin de Villeneuve, her perennial fiance.

It seemed that no matter how much the Twig hitched up her waistline, her tights were not tight enough.

Snuggled into her cosiest leopard-skin dress, Gina Lollobrigida, 40, breezed into Manhattan to say a few good words for her 51st film, Buona Sera, Mrs. Campbell. She also passed some opinions on her favorite topic. "In America, women are so important and so selfish. They become so powerful that they're the equals of men," she said. "In Europe, we act small and stupid. And that makes us appealing." To whom was she appealing at the moment? asked a reporter. "Very many men. I am very generous,"was the answer. "Today, sexy comes from the personality and how you look at a man. The bust is not so important, any more. But, of course, I'm not bad."

While preparing for the opening curtain of La Gioconda at Miami's Dade County Auditorium, Tenor Richard Tucker suddenly noticed an air-conditioned chill. "Turn it off," he complained; the cool air, he said, would freeze his throat. But of course, said the impresario--and sotto voce told his assistant to leave it on. All through the first two acts, Tucker's anger mounted. Finally, just before the third act he announced: "Unless the air conditioning is turned off, I do not sing a note!" Someone mentioned that the audience might leave. "Let them!" Tucker roared. "They must accommodate to me, not me to them. The trouble with this business," he said solemnly as the air conditioning was shut down, "is that it is filled with egotistical maniacs."

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