GEORGE THE THIRD scolded Lord North for never going to the concert of antient music: "Your brother, the bishop," said the king, "never misses them, my lord." "Sir," answered the premier, "if I were as deaf as my brother, the bishop, I would never miss them either!"
R. H. Barham,Life.
ON A MODERN ACTRESS.
"MISS Neilson's 'benefit'," one says;I ask to what the phrase refers;For, sure, when such an artist plays,The "benefit" is ours, not hers.
W. D. A.
OUR king [William IV.] isultra-popular. Have you heard Lord Alvanley'sbon motconcerning him? He was standing at the window at White's, when the king, with a thousand of his loving subjects at his heels, was walking up St. James's Street. A friend said to him, "What are you staring at, Alvanley?" "I am waiting to see his Majesty's pocket picked," was the reply.
Miss Mitford,Life and Letters.
METHINKS the lays of now-a-daysAre painfully in earnest.
Frederick Locker,London Lyrics.
HICKS was talking to Thackeray of a certain gentleman's strange addiction to beer. "It's a great pity," said Hicks, "that he does not keep a check-rein on himself, for he is a marvellous fellow otherwise—I mean, for talent I hardly know his equal." "No," retorted Thackeray, "he is a remarkable man. Take him for half-and-half, we ne'er shall look upon his like again."
J. C. Young,Diary.
PRO conibus calidis, conibus frigidis,Pro conibus mollibus, conibus rigidis,Pro conibus senibusAtque juvenibus,Gratias agimus fatis,Habuimus satis.
Anon.
ONE of the "Hooks and Eyes" was expatiating on the fact that he had dined three times at the Duke of Devonshire's, and that on neither occasion had there been any fish at table. "I cannot account for it," he added. "I can," said Jerrold: "they ate it all upstairs."
Charles Mackay,Recollections.
VERACITY is a plant of paradise, and its seeds have never flourished beyond the walls.
Machiavelli, inGeorge Eliot'sRomola.
IKNOW not why my soul is rack'd:Why I ne'er smile as was my wont:I only know that, as a fact,I don't.I used to roam o'er glen and glade,Buoyant and blithe as other folk:And not unfrequently I madeA joke.All day I sang; of love, of fame,Of fights our fathers fought of yore,Until the thing almost becameA bore.I cannot sing the old songs nowIt is not that I deem them low;'Tis that I can't remember howThey go.
C. S. Calverley,Fly Leaves.
DURING [a] drive, Lord William L——, a man of fashion, but, like other of the great men of the day, an issuer of paper money discounted at high rates by the usurers, was thrown off his horse. Mr. and Mrs. King immediately quitted the carriage, and placed the noble lord within. On this circumstance being mentioned in the clubs, Brummell observed it was only "a BillJewly(duly) taken up and honoured."
Gronow,Recollections.
SHE made the cleverest people quite ashamed,And even the good with inward envy groaned,Finding themselves so very much exceededIn their own way by all the things that she did.
Lord Byron,Don Juan.
ON the elevation of some childless person to the peerage, [Lady Charlotte Lindsay] remarked that he was "of the new Order, which seemed the popular one, not of the Barons, but the Barrens."
Lord Houghton,Monographs.
OFT when petty annoyances ruffle the soul,And the temper defies philosophic control,The emotion is quelled, and a calm will succeed,Through the simple device of inhaling the Weed:Such magical power has the soothing CanasterTo bring balmy content and good humour to Gaster.
Lord Neaves,Songs and Verses.
MORGAN JOHN O'CONNELL had the ready wit of his country in a remarkable degree. We were walking by the Wey one day, when an Oxford graduate, who had a taste for botany, plucked a flower (Balsamum impatiens) from the river, remarking that it was a very rare plant. "It is an out-of-the-Weyone, at any rate," was the instantaneous reply.
W. H. Harrison,University Magazine.
OH! 'tis the most tremendous boreOf all the bores I know,To have a friend who's lost his heartA short time ago.
Bon Gaultier Ballads.
INEVER on any account allow my business to interfere with my drinking.
C. F. Browne,Artemus Ward's Lecture.
NURSERY RHYME.
WHAT is an Englishman made of?Roast beef and jam tart,And a pint of good Clar't,And that's what an Englishman's made of.What is a Frenchman, pray, made of?Horse steak, and frog fritter,And absinthe so bitter,And that's what a Frenchman is made of.
Shirley Brooks,Wit and Humour.
MARRIAGE is a desperate thing. The frogs in Æsop were extreme wise; they had a great mind to some water, but they would not leap into the well, because they could not get out again.
Selden,Table Talk.
("DON'T speak so hard of ——; he lives on your good graces.") That accounts for his being so thin.
Lady Ashburton,apudLord Houghton.
WE are wise—and we make ourselves hazy;We are foolish—and so, go to church;While Sambo but laughs, and is lazy(Vile discipline! lend me thy birch);He dreams of no life save the present,His virtue is but when it suits;Sometimes, which is not quite so pleasant,I miss coat or boots.
Once a Week.
YOU remember Thurlow's answer to some one complaining of the injustice of a company, "Why, you never expected justice from a company, did you? They have neither a soul to save, nor a body to kick."
Sydney Smith,Life and Letters.
ELLISTON, the actor, a self-educated man, was playing cribbage one evening, with Lamb, and on drawing out his first card, exclaimed, "When Greek meets Greek, then comes the tug of war." "Yes," replied Lamb, "and whenyoumeet Greek, you don't understand it."
Life of Rev. W Harness.
TO Justice Park's brother, who was a great church-goer, some one applied the words, "Parcusdeorum cultor."
Thomas Moore,Diary.
"YOU'LL soon get used to her looks," said he,"And a very nice girl you'll find her;She may very well pass for forty-three,In the dusk, with a light behind her!"
Judge, inW. S. Gilbert'sTrial by Jury.
"MY brethren," said Swift in a sermon, "there are three sorts of pride—of birth, of riches, and of talents. I shall not now speak of the latter, none of you being liable to that abominable vice."
Horace Smith,The Tin Trumpet.
NO doubt this patience, when the world is damning us,Is philosophic in our former friends;It is also pleasant to be deem'd magnanimous,The more so in obtaining our own ends.Revenge in person's certainly no virtue,But then 'tis notmyfault ifothershurt you.
Lord Byron,Don Juan.
HE was not an intellectual Crœsus, but his pockets were full of sixpences.
Lord Beaconsfield,Lothair.
IT'S after a dinner at Freemason's HallThat the orator's talent shines brightest of all;When his eye becomes glazed, and his voice becomes thick,And he's had so much hock he can only sayhic.So the company leave him to slumber and snoreTill he's put in a hat and conveyed to the door;And he finds, upon reaching his home in a cab,That his wife rather shines in the gift of the gab.
H. S. Leigh,Carols of Cockayne.
ONE of our countrymen having been introduced by M. de la Rochefoucauld to Mademoiselle Bigottini, the beautiful and graceful dancer, in the course of conversation with this gentleman, asked him in what part of the theatre he was placed; upon which he replied, "Mademoiselle,dans un loge róti," instead of "grillé." The lady could not understand what he meant, until his introducer explained the mistake, observing, "Ces diables d'Anglais pensent toujours à leur Rosbif."
Gronow,Recollections.
THE sea was wet as wet could be,The sands were dry as dry,You could not see a cloud, becauseNo cloud was in the sky:No birds were flying overhead—There were no birds to fly.
Lewis Carroll,Through the Looking-Glass.
AMAN of business should always have his eyes open, but must often seem to have them shut.
Lord Chesterfield,Maxims.
NEXT morning twelve citizens came('Twas the coroner bade them attend)To the end that it might be determinedHow the man had determined his end!
John Godfrey Saxe,Poems.
IREMEMBER on one occasion acting in "Venice Preserved." A long and rather drowsy dying speech of my poor friend Jaffier was "dragging its slow length along," when one of the gallery, in a tone of great impatience, called out very loudly, "Ah now, die at once;" to which another from the other side immediately replied, "Be quiet, you blackguard," then, turning with a patronizing tone to the lingering Jaffier, "Take your time!"
W. C. MacReady,Diary.
THE days they grow shorter and shorter,The town's worse than ever for smoke,Invention, Necessity's daughter!How long must we blacken and choke?Much longer we ne'er can endure it,The smother each resident damns;Unless something's done to cure it,'Twill cureuslike so many hams.
J. R. Planché,Songs and Poems.
AKIND Providence furnishes the limpest personality with a little gum or starch in the form of tradition.
George Eliot,Middlemarch.
OIL and water—woman and a secret—Are hostile properties.
Baradas, inLord Lytton'sRichelieu.
AT a musicalsoiréein Paris, a lady, possessing a magnificent soprano voice and remarkable facility of execution, sang the great Maestro's well-known aria, "Una Voce," with great effect, but overladen with fiorituri of the most elaborate description. Rossini, at its conclusion, advanced to the piano and complimented the lady most highly upon her vocal powers, terminating his encomiums with the cruel inquiry: "Mais de qui est la musique?"
J. R. Planché,Recollections.
ON A BAD SINGER.
SWANS sing before they die; 'twere no bad thingDid certain persons die before they sing.
S. T. Coleridge.
"IS life worth living?" That depends upon the liver.
The World.
OLD LOVES.
"THEN, you liked little Bowes."—"And you liked Jane Raby!""But you likemenow, Rose?"—"As I liked 'little Bowes'!""Am I then to suppose——""Hush!—you mustn't wake baby!""Didyou like little Bowes?"—"If you liked Jane Raby!"
Austin Dobson,Proverbs in Porcelain.
WOMEN, when left to themselves, talk chiefly about their dress; they think more about their lovers than they talk about them.
W. Hazlitt,Characteristics.
OIF billows and pillows, and bowers and flowers,And all the brave rhymes of an elder day,Could be furled together, this genial weather,And carted, or carried on "wafts" away,Nor ever again trotted out—ah me!How much fewer volumes of verse there'd be!
C. S. Calverley,Fly Leaves.
MISS PRUE.Must I tell a lie, then?Tattle.Yes, if you'd be well-bred. All well-bred persons lie.
Congreve,Love for Love.
SOME attacks on the lungs, that of woe would be full,Are repelled by a filter of loose Cotton Wool;But a barrier of brass, or achevaux-de-frise,Won't exclude some descriptions of Dust and Disease.
Lord Neaves,Songs and Verses.
WHEN an acquaintance came up to him and said, "Why, Jerrold, I hear you said my nose was like the ace of clubs!" Jerrold returned, "No, I didn't; but now I look at it, I see it is very like."
Mrs. Cowden Clarke.
WUS, EVER WUS.
WUS, ever wus! By freak of Puck'sMy most exciting hopes are dashed;I never wore my spotless ducksBut madly—wildly!—they were splashed.I never roved by Cynthia's beam,To gaze upon the starry sky,But some old stiff-backed beetle came,And charged into my pensive eye.And oh! I never did the swellIn Regent Street, amongst the beaus,But smuts the most prodigious fell,And always settled on my nose!
H. Cholmondeley Pennell,Puck on Pegasus.
L'HYMEN vient après l'amour, comme la fumée après la flamme.
Chamfort,Maximes.
IT may be so—perhaps thou hastA warm and loving heart;I will not blame thee for thy face,Poor devil as thou art.That thing thou fondly deem'st a nose,Unsightly though it be—In spite of all the cold world's scorn,It may be much to thee.Those eyes—among thine elder friendsPerhaps they pass for blue;No matter—if a man can see,What more have eyes to do?Thy mouth—that fissure in thy face,By something like a chin,May be a very useful placeTo put thy victuals in.
Oliver Wendell Holmes.
NOTHING shows one who his friends are, like prosperity and ripe fruit. I had a good friend in the country whom I almost never visited except in cherry time. By your fruits you shall know them.
C. D. Warner,My Summer in a Garden.
AN EPITAPH.
ALOVELY young lady I mourn in my rhymes:She was pleasant, good-natured, and civil sometimes.Her figure was good: she had very fine eyes,And her talk was a mixture of foolish and wise.Her adorers were many, and one of them said,"She waltzed rather well! It's a pity she's dead!"
G. J. Cayley, inComic Poets.
ANYBODY amuses me for once. A new acquaintance is like a new book. I prefer it, even if bad, to a classic.
Lady Montfort, inLord Beaconsfield'sEndymion.
NOW I hold it is not decent for a scientific gentTo say another is an ass,—at least, to all intent;Nor should the individual who happens to be meantReply by heaving rocks at him to any great extent.
Bret Harte,Complete Works.
STORY of Edward Walpole, who, being told, one day at the "Garrick," that the confectioners had a way of discharging the ink from old parchment by a chemical process, and then making the parchment into isinglass for their jellies, said, "Then I find a man may now eat his deeds as well as his words."
R. H. Barham,Life.
WHAT is the spell that 'twixt a saint and sinnerThe diff'rence makes?—a sermon? Bah! a dinner.
Alfred Austin,The Season.
"IVENT to the club this mornin', sir. There vorn't no letters, sir." "Very good, Topping." "How's missus, sir?" "Pretty well, Topping." "Glad to hear it, sir.Mymissus ain't very well, sir." "No!" "No, sir, she's agoin', sir, to have a hincrease werry soon, and it makes her nervous, sir; and ven a young voman gets down at sich a time, sir, she goes down werry deep, sir." To this sentiment I reply affirmatively, and then he adds, as he stirs the fire (as if he were thinking out loud), "Wot a mystery it is! Wot a go is natur'!"
Charles Dickens,apudJ. T. Fields.
THE most forlorn—what worms we are!—Would wish to finish this cigarBefore departing.
Frederick Locker,London Lyrics.
MRS. CADWALLADER says it is nonsense, people going a long journey when they are married. She says they get tired to death of each other, and can't quarrel comfortably, as they would at home.
Celia Brooke, inGeorge Eliot'sMiddlemarch.
SOME think that man from a monkey grewBy steps of long generation,When, after many blunders, a fewGood hits were made in creation;But I can't comprehend this at all;Of blind groping forcesThough Darwin discourses,I rather inclineTo believe in designWith Plato, and Peter, and Paul.
J. S. Blackie,Musa Burschicosa.
IN a trial, where a German and his wife were giving evidence, the former was asked by the counsel, "How old are you?" "I amdirty." "And what is your wife?" "Mine wife isdirty-two." "Then, sir, you are a very nasty couple, and I wish to have nothing further to say to either of you."
Horace Smith,The Tin Trumpet.
HE'D better be apt with his penThan well-dressed, and well-booted and gloved,Who likes to be liked by the men,By the women who loves to be loved:And Fashion full often has paidHer good word in return for a gay word,For a song in the manner of Praed,Or an anecdote worthy of Hayward.
G. O. Trevelyan,Ladies in Parliament.
OH, my Maria! Alas! she married another. They frequently do. I hope she is happy—because I am.
C. F. Browne,Artemus Ward's Lecture.
RISE up, cold reverend, to a see;Confound the unbeliever!Yet ne'er 'neath thee my seat shall beFor ever and for ever.Preach, softly preach, in lawn and beA comely, model liver,But ne'er 'neath thee my seat shall beFor ever and for ever.And here shall sleep thy Alderman,And here thy pauper shiver,And here by thee shall buzz the "she,"For ever and for ever.A thousand men shall sneer at thee,A thousand women quiver,But ne'er 'neath thee my seat shall beFor ever and for ever.
The Shotover Papers.
FOR people to live happily together, the real secret is, that they should not live too much together.
Ellesmere, inHelps'sFriends in Council.
LORD ELLENBOROUGH'S saying to a witness; "Why, you are an industrious fellow; you must have taken pains with yourself; no man was evernaturallyso stupid."
Thomas Moore,Diary.
IF you've a thousand a year or a minute;If you're a D'Orsay, whom every one follows;If you've a head (it don't matter what's in it)Fair as Apollo's;If you approve of flirtations, good dinners,Seascapes divine which the merry winds whiten,Nice little saints and still nicer young sinners,—Winter in Brighton!
Mortimer Collins.
HE [Bagehot] used to say, banteringly, to his mother, by way of putting her off at a time when she was anxious for him to marry, "A man's mother is his misfortune, but his wife is his fault!"
R. H. Hutton,Memoir of W. Bagehot.
A LADY ON THE PRINCESSE DRESS.
MY dress, you'll aver, is Economy's own,Designed with most exquisite taste;From zone unto hem, and from tucker to zone,You can't find a vestige ofwaist!
J. Ashby Sterry, inEnglish Epigrams.
LORD PALMERSTON, during his last attack of gout, exclaimed, playfully, "Die, my dear doctor! That's thelastthing I think of doing."
J. C. Jeaffreson,About Lawyers.
ON POVERTY.
HE who in his pocket has no moneyShould, in his mouth, be never without honey.
Epigrams in Distich.
TAVERN—a house kept for those who are not housekeepers.
Horace Smith,The Tin Trumpet.
WHEN the breakfast is spread,When the topers are mellow,When the foam of the bride-cake is white, andthe fierce orange-blossoms are yellow.
Lewis Carroll,Phantasmagoria.
ON [one] occasion, at a concert, a very indifferent tenor, who sang repeatedly out of tune, was indiscreet enough to express his regret to Rossini that he should have heard him for the first time in that room, as, he complained, "Le plafond est si sourd." Rossini raised his eyes to the abused ceiling, and simply ejaculated, "Heureux plafond!"
J. R. Planché,Recollections.
IF, sick of home and luxuries,You want a new sensation,And sigh for the unwonted easeOfunaccommodation,—If you would taste, as amateur,And vagabond beginner,The painful pleasures of the poor—Get up a picnic dinner.
Horace Smith,The Tin Trumpet.
ACOUNTRY rector, coming up to preach at Oxford in his turn, complained to Dr. Routh, the venerable Principal of Maudlin, that the remuneration was very inadequate, considering the travelling expenses and the labour necessary for the composition of the discourse. "How much did they give you?" inquired Dr. Routh. "Only five pounds," was the reply. "Only five pounds?" repeated the doctor; "why, I would not have preached that sermon for fifty!"
Life of Rev. W. Harness.
DEY vented to de Voman's Righds,Vere laties all agrees,De gals should pe de voters,And deir beaux all de votées."For efery man dat nefer vorks,Von frau should vranchised pe:Dat ish de vay I solf dis ding,"Said Breitmann, said he.
C. G. Leland,Breitmann Ballads.
THERE is nothing more universally commended than a fine day; the reason is, that people can commend it without envy.
Shenstone,Essays.
LET the singing singers,With vocal voices, most vociferous,In sweet vociferation out-vociferizeEven sound itself.
Chrononhotonthologos, inCarey's farce.
GIVING advice is, many times, only the privilege of saying a foolish thing one's self, under pretence of hindering another from doing one.
Pope,Thoughts on Various Subjects.
OF pay or play may preach this knot—Of death or duns or love's devotion—I tied it yesterday, but whatIt means, I've not the faintest notion.
H. Cholmondeley Pennell,Pegasus Resaddled.
RENÉ.Qu'est ce que c'est donc que les affaires, Monsieur Giraud?Giraud.Les affaires? c'est bien simple; c'est l'argent des autres.
Dumasfils,La Question d'Argent.
TOUS les méchants sont buveurs d'eau.
Comte de Ségur.
MISS PELLINGLE commences "Rousseau's Dream," with variations. Beautiful melody, by itself first, clear and distinct.
Now the air tries to break out between alternate notes, like a prisoner behind bars. Then we have a variation entirely bass.
Happy thought.—Rousseau snoring.
Then a scampering up, a meeting with the right hand, a scampering down, and a leap off one note into space. Then both in the middle, wobbling; then down into the bass again.
Happy thought.—Rousseau after a heavy supper.
A plaintive variation.—Rousseau in pain.
Light strain: Mazurka time.—Rousseau kicking in his sleep.
F. C. Burnand,Happy Thoughts.
SAD is that woman's lot who, year by year,Sees, one by one, her beauties disappear,When Time, grown weary of her heart-drawn sighs,Impatiently begins to "dim her eyes!"Compelled at last, in life's uncertain gloamings,To wreathe her wrinkled brow with well-saved "combings,"Reduced with rouge, lip-salve, and pearly gray,To "make up" for lost time, as best she may!
Lady Jane, inW. S. Gilbert'sPatience.
NO coinage in circulation so fluctuates in value as the worth of a marriageable man.
Lord Lytton,What will he do with it?
ANATHEMA IN EXCELSIS.
CREED of St. Anathasius? No, indeed.Call it, good priests, the Anathemasian Creed.
Shirley Brooks,Wit and Humour.
MISTRUST all those who love you extremely upon a very slight acquaintance, and without any visible reason.
Lord Chesterfield,Maxims.
BENEVOLENT NEUTRALITY.
WHEN man and wife at odds fall out,Let Syntax be your tutor;'Twixt masculine and feminine,What should one be but neuter?
Anon.
MY friend the late Sam Phillips one day met Douglas Jerrold, and told him he had seen, the day before, Payne Collier looking wonderfully gay and well—quite an evergreen. "Ah," said Jerrold, "he may be evergreen, but he's neverread." On my repeating this to Hicks, he smiled and said, "Now that's what I call 'ready wit.' "
J. C. Young,Diary.
ONE day, when conversing with [a] friend, something was said on the subject of religious persecution, on which [Whately] remarked, "It is no wonder that some English people have a taste for persecuting on account of religion, since it is the first lesson that most are taught in their nurseries." His friend expressed his incredulity, and denied thathe, at least, had been taught it. "Are you sure?" replied Dr. Whately. "What think you of this—Old Daddy Longlegswon't say his prayers,Take him by the left leg, and throw him downstairs'?If that is not religious persecution, what is?"
E. J. Whately,Life of Whately.
ON A PUBLIC-HOUSE.
OF this establishment how can we speak?Its cheese is mity, and its ale is weak.
Anon.
AT a fête at Hatfield House,tableaux vivantswere among the chief amusements, and scenes fromIvanhoewere among the selections. All the parts were filled up but that ofIsaac of York. Lady Salisbury begged Lord Alvanley "to make the set complete, by doing the Jew." "Anything in my power your ladyship may demand," replied Alvanley; "but though no man in England has tried oftener, I never coulddo a Jewin my life."
R. H. Barham,Life.
THERE'S nothing we read of in torture's inventions,Like a well-meaning dunce with the best of intentions.
J. R. Lowell,A Fable for Critics.
THE POPE.
MISS D., on her return to the Highlands of Scotland, from Rome, went to see an auld Scottish wife, and said, to interest the old woman, "I have been to Rome since I saw you—I have seen all sorts of great people—I have seen the Pope." The sympathetic old dame replied with animation, "The Pope of Rome!—Honest marn!—haze he ony family?"
Frederick Locker,Patchwork.
NAY, tempt me not, Arab, again to stay;Since I crave neitherEchonorFunto-day,For thyhandis not Echoless—there they are,Fun,Glowworm, andEcho, andEvening Star:And thou hintest withal that thou fain wouldst shine,As I con them, these bulgy old boots of mine.But I shrink from thee, Arab! Thou eat'st eel-pie,Thou evermore hast at least one black eye;There is brass on thy brow, and thy swarthy huesAre due not to nature but handling shoes;And the bit in thy mouth, I regret to see,Is a bit of tobacco-pipe—Flee, child, flee!
C. S. Calverley,Fly Leaves.
THE bulk of men in our days are just as immoral as they were in Charles the Second's; the only difference is that they are incomparably more stupid, and that instead of decking their immorality with the jewels of wit, they clumsily try to cover it with the tarpaulin of respectability.
Mr. Luke, inMallock'sNew Republic.
WHY WIVES MAKE NO WILLS.
MEN dying make their wills, why cannot wives?Because wives have their wills during their lives.
R. Hugman(circa1628).
WHAT the mischief do you suppose you want with a post-office at Baldwin's Ranch? It would not do you any good. If any letters came there, you couldn't read them, you know; and besides, such letters as ought to pass through, with money in them, for other localities, would not be likely togetthrough, you must perceive at once; and that would make trouble for us all. No; don't bother about a post-office at your camp. What you want is a nice jail, you know—a nice, substantial jail, and a free school. These will be a lasting benefit to you. These will make you really contented and happy.
Mark Twain,Choice Works.
NOUS avons tous assez de force pour supporter les maux d'autrui.
La Rochefoucauld,Réflexions.
ROGERS happened to ask Macaulay what he thought of Miss Harriet Martineau's wonderful cures by mesmerism. He said, with one of his rare smiles, "Oh, it's all my eye, and Hetty Martineau!"
Lady Chatterton,Life.
TTame is Virtue's school;Paint, as more effective,Villain, knave, and fool,With always a Detective.Hate for Love may sit;Gloom will do for Gladness;Banish Sense and Wit,And dash in lots of Madness.Stir the broth about;Keep the furnace glowing;Soon we'll pour it outIn three bright volumes flowing.Some may jeer and jibe:Weknow where the shop is,Ready to subscribeFor a thousand copies!
Lord Neaves,Songs and Verses.
TH' young men noo-a-days, they're poor squashy things—the' looke well anoof, but the' woon't wear, the' woon't wear.
"Mester" Ford, inGeorge Eliot'sMr. Gilfil.
"WHERE are the boys of my youth?" I assure you this is not a conundrum. Some are amongst you here—some in America—some are in gaol.
Hence arises a most touching question: "Where are the girls of my youth?" Some are married—some would like to be.
C. F. Browne,Artemus Ward's Lecture.
MARK how the lorgnettes cautiously they raiseLest points, no pose so thoughtless but displays,A too quick curiosity should hide—For they who gaze must gazed-at be beside.
Alfred Austin,The Season.
ISENT the book down to the Dean, from Saunders and Otley's. Speaking of that firm, I don't know whether I told you of young Sutton, Lord Canterbury's son, calling there one day very angry, because they had not sent him some books he had ordered. He was, as usual, pretty warm, and so much so that one of the partners could bear it no longer, and told him as much. "I don't know who you are," was the answer, "but I don't want to annoy youpersonally, as you may not be the one in fault: it's your confounded house that I blame. You may be Otley, or you may be Saunders; if you are Saunders, d—— Otley; if you are Otley, d—— Saunders. I mean nothing personalto you."
R. H. Barham,Life.
OF all actions of a man's life, his marriage does least concern other people, yet of all actions of our life 'tis most meddled with by other people.
Selden,Table Talk.
AGRAVE and quiet man was he,Who loved his book and rod,—So even ran his line of lifeHis neighbours thought it odd.He ne'er aspired to rank or wealth,Nor cared about a name,For though much famed for fish was he,He never fished for fame!Let others bend their necks at sightOf Fashion's gilded wheels,He ne'er had learned the art to "bob"For anything but eels!
John Godfrey Saxe,Poems.
ALITTLE knowledge of the world is a very dangerous thing, especially in literature.
Lord Montfort, inLord Beaconsfield'sEndymion.
SI les hommes ne se flattaient pas les uns les autres, il n'y aurait guère de société.
Vauvenargues,Réflexions.
THE gravest aversion exists among bearsFrom rude forward persons who give themselves airs,—We know how some graceless young people were maul'dFor plaguing a Prophet, and calling himbald.Strange ursine devotion! their dancing-days ended,Bears die to "remove" what, in life, they defended:They succour'd the Prophet, and, since that affair,The bald have a painful regard for the bear.
Frederick Locker,London Lyrics.
HEAVEN knows what would become of our sociality if we never visited people we speak ill of; we should live, like Egyptian hermits, in crowded solitude.
George Eliot,Janet's Repentance.
METHINKS the older that one growsInclines us more to laugh than scold, though laughterLeaves us so doubly serious shortly after.
Lord Byron,Beppo.
WE ought never to contend for what we are not likely to obtain.
Cardinal de Retz,Memoirs.
"IWILL never marry a woman who cannot carve," said M——. "Why?" "Because she would not be a help-meat for me."
Literary Gazette.
TWINKLE, twinkle, little bat!How I wonder what you're at!Up above the world you fly,Like a tea-tray in the sky.
Lewis Carroll,Alice in Wonderland.
WE had for dinner, among other things, a ham which was not well flavoured; and Mrs. Frederick Mackenzie, who was annoyed about it, began apologizing, and saying that Ellerton, the local grocer, had sold it to her as something very excellent, and as a genuine Westphalia. "Ah!" said Compton, "I cannot determine precisely whether it is east or west, but it is afailureof some sort."
R. B. Carter, inMemoir of H. Compton.
ONE of the company asserting that he had seen a pike caught, which weighed thirty-six pounds, and was four feet in length,—"Had it been a sole," said Harry [Sandford], "it would have surprised me less, as Shakespeare tells us, 'All thesoulsthat are, werefour feet(forfeit) once.'"
R. H. Barham,Life.
THERE is safety in numbers, especially in odd numbers. The Three Graces never married, neither did the Nine Muses.
Kenelm Chillingly, inLord Lytton's novel.
DISTICH.
THERE are three species of creatures who when they seem coming are going,When they seem going they come: Diplomats, women, and crabs.
John Hay,Poems.
IF a man might knowThe ill he must undergo,And shun it so,Then were it good to know.But if he undergo it,Though he know it,What boots him know it?He must undergo it.
Sir John Suckling.
BARRY CORNWALL told me that when he and Charles Lamb were once making up a dinner-party together, Charles asked him not to invite a certain lugubrious friend of theirs. "Because," said Lamb, "he would cast a damper even over a funeral."
J. T. Fields,Yesterdays with Authors.
L'AMOUR plaît plus que le mariage, par la raison que les romans sont plus amusants que l'histoire.
Chamfort,Maximes.
THE farmers daughter hath frank blue eyes;(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)She hears the rooks caw in the windy skies,As she sits at her lattice and shells her peas.The farmer's daughter hath ripe red lips;(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)If you try to approach her, away she skipsOver tables and chairs with apparent ease.The farmer's daughter hath soft brown hair;(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)And I met with a ballad, I can't say where,Which wholly consisted of lines like these.
C. S. Calverley,Fly Leaves.
mACREADY told a story of George B——, the actor, who, it seems, was not popular in the profession, being considered a sort of time-server: "There goes Georgius," said some one. "Not Georgium Sidus?" replied Keeley. "Yes," added Power, "GeorgiumAny-sidus."
R. H. Barham,Life.
I'M weary, and sick, and disgustedWith Britain's mechanical din;Where I'm much too well known to be trusted,And plaguily pestered for tin;Where love has two eyes for your banker,And one chilly flame for yourself;Where souls can afford to be franker,But where they're well garnished with pelf.
I'm sick of the whole race of poets,Emasculate, misty, and fine;They brew their small beer, and don't know itsDistinction from full-bodied wine.I'm sick of the prosers, that house upAt drowsy St. Stephen's—ain't you?I want some strong spirits to rouse upA good resolution or two!
Bon Gaultier Ballads.
"On one occasion," said Brummell, "I called to inquire after a young lady who had sprained her ankle. Lewis, on being asked how she was, had said in the black's presence, 'The doctor has seen her, put her legs straight, and the poor chicken is doing well.' The servant, therefore, told me, with a very mysterious and knowing look, 'Oh, sir, the doctor has been here; she has laid eggs, and she and the chickens are doing well.'"
Gronow,Recollections.
ASCOTTISH Scottish clergyman had some years since been cited before the Ecclesiastical Assembly at Edinburgh, to answer to a charge brought against him of great irreverence in religious matters, and Sir Walter [Scott] was employed by him to arrange his defence. The principal fact alleged against him was his having asserted, in a letter which was produced, that "he considered Pontius Pilate to be a very ill-used man, as he had done more for Christianity than all the othernine Apostlesput together." The fact was proved, and suspension followed.
R. H. Barham,Life.
ON DIDACTICS IN POETRY.
PARNASSUS' peaks still catch the sun;But why—O lyric brother!—Why build a Pulpit on the one,A Platform on the other?
Austin Dobson, inLatter-Day Lyrics.
MY old fellow-traveller in Germany, himself an Irishman, being on the box of an Irish mail-coach on a very cold day, and observing the driver enveloping his neck in the voluminous folds of an ample "comforter," remarked, "You seem to be taking very good care of yourself, my friend." "Och, to be shure I am, sir," answered the driver; "what's all the world to a man when his wife's a widdy?"
J. R. Planché,Recollections.