2nd Lady, inG. O. Trevelyan'sLadies in Parliament.
ON A LEFT-HANDED WRITING-MASTER.
THOUGH Nature thee of thy right hand bereft,Right well thou writest with the hand that's left.
Francis Fuller,apudNicholls.
WE are never so much disposed to quarrel with others, as when we are dissatisfied with ourselves.
W. Hazlitt,Characteristics.
THE cockney, met in Middlesex, or Surrey,Is often cold, and always in a hurry.
Frederick Locker,London Lyrics.
SPEAKING one day of a newly risen sect of religionists who proscribed the use of animal food, the Archbishop [Whately] said to Dr. Wilson, "Do you know anything, Wilson, of this new sect?" "Yes, my Lord; I have seen their confession of faith, which is a book of cookery."
E. J. Whately'sLife of Whately.
AND I do think the amateur cornopeanShould be put down by law—but that's perhaps Utopian.
C. S. CALVERLEY,Verses and Translations.
LE premier soupir de l'amour est le dernier de la sagesse.
Charron,La Sagesse.
FOR he himself has said it,And it's greatly to his credit,That he is an Englishman!For he might have been a Roosian,A French, or Turk, or Proosian,Or perhaps Italian!But in spite of all temptationsTo belong to other nations,He remains an Englishman!
W. S. Gilbert,H.M.S. Pinafore.
BARON ALDERSON being asked by the chaplain of the High Sheriff at the assizes over which he was to preside, how long he would like him to preach, replied, "About half an hour, with a leaning to mercy."
J. C. Young,Diary.
ON EVENING DRESS.
WHEN dress'd for the evening, girls, nowadays,Scarce an atom of dress on them leave;Nor blame them—for what is an Evening Dress,But a dress that is suited to Eve?
Anon.
IT'S the silliest lie a sensible man like you ever believed, to say a woman makes a house comfortable. It's a story got up, because the women are there, and something must be found for 'em to do. I tell you there isn't a thing under the sun that needs to be done at all, but what a man can do better than a woman, unless it's bearing children, and they do that in a poor make-shift way. It had better ha' been left to the men.
Bartle Massey, inGeorge Eliot'sAdam Bede.
TO sniggle or to dibble, that's the question!Whether to bait a hook with worm or bumble,Or to take up arms of any sea, some troubleTo fish, and then home send 'em. To fly—to whip—To moor and tie my boat up by the endTo any wooden post, or natural rockWe may be near to, on a PreservationDevoutly to be fished. To fly—to whip—To whip! perchance two bream;—and there's the chub!
F. C. Burnand,Happy Thoughts.
ANECDOTE of Phil Stone, the property-man of Drury Lane:—"Will you be so good, sir, as to stand a little backer?" said Phil to a gentleman behind the scenes, who had placed himself so forward as to be seen by the audience. "No, my fine fellow," returned the exquisite, who quite mistook his meaning; "but here is a pinch of snuff at your service."
R. H. Barham,Life.
AT a friend's house Charles Lamb was presented with a cheese; it was a very ripe, not to say a lively cheese, and, as Lamb was leaving, his friend offered him a piece of paper in which to wrap it, so that he might convey it more conveniently. "Thank you," said Charles, "but would not several yards of twine be better, and then, you know, I couldleadit home?"
Frederick Locker,Patchwork.
"ALOAF of bread," the Walrus said,"Is what we chiefly need;Pepper and vinegar besidesAre very good indeed—Now, if you're ready, Oysters dear,We can begin to feed.""But not on us," the Oysters cried,Turning a little blue."After such kindness, that would beA dismal thing to do!""The night is fine," the Walrus said;"Do you admire the view?"
Lewis Carroll,Through the Looking-Glass.
RELIGION is like the fashion. One man wears his doublet slashed, another laced, another plain; but every man has a doublet: so every man has his religion. We differ about the trimming.
Selden,Table Talk.
ROMANCES paint at full length people's wooings,But only give a bust of marriages;For no one cares for matrimonial cooings,There's nothing wrong in a connubial kiss.
Lord Byron,Don Juan.
AYOUNG lady decorously brought up should only have two considerations in her choice of a husband: first, is his birth honourable? secondly, will his death be advantageous? All other trifling details should be left to parental anxiety.
Madame Deschappelles, inLord Lytton'sLady of Lyons.
THE doctor's as drunk as the d——," we said,And we managed a shutter to borrow;We rais'd him, and sigh'd at the thought that his headWould consumedly ache on the morrow.We bore him home and we put him to bed,And we told his wife and his daughterTo give him next morning a couple of red-Herrings with soda-water.Slowly and sadly we all walked downFrom his room in the uppermost story;A rush-light we placed on the cold hearth-stone,And left him alone in his glory.
R. H. Barham,Ingoldsby Lyrics.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN was always proud of telling how he entered Philadelphia, for the first time, with nothing in the world but two shillings in his pocket and four rolls of bread under his arm. But really, when you come to examine it critically, it was nothing. Anybody could have done it.
Mark Twain,Choice Works.
I'VE thought very often 'twould be a good thingIn all public collections of books, if a wingWere set off by itself, like the seas from the dry lands,Marked "Literature suited to desolate islands,"And filled with such books as could never be readSave by readers of proofs, forced to do it for bread,—Such books as one's wrecked on in small country taverns,Such as hermits might mortify over in caverns,Such as Satan, if printing had then been invented,As a climax of woe, would to Jove have presented,Such as Crusoe might dip in, although there are few soOutrageously cornered by fate as poor Crusoe.
J. R. Lowell,A Fable for Critics.
BELLMOURAh! courtship to marriage is but as the music in the play-house till the curtain's drawn; but that once up, then opens the scene of pleasure.
Belinda.Oh, foh—no; rather, courtship to marriage is a very witty prologue to a very dull play.
Congreve,The Old Bachelor.
ON HEARING A LADY PRAISE A CERTAIN REV. DOCTOR'S EYES.
ICANNOT praise the Doctor's eyes;I never saw his glance divine;He always shuts them when he prays,And when he preaches he shuts mine.
G. Outram,Lyrics: Legal, etc.
THIS picture is a great work of art. It is an oil painting—done in petroleum. It is by the Old Masters. It was the last thing they did before dying. They did this and then they expired.
Some of the greatest artists in London come here every morning before daylight with lanterns to look at it. They say they never saw anything like it before—and they hope they never shall again.
C. F. Browne,Artemus Ward's Lecture.
THE WORLD.
THE world is like a rink, you know:You lose yourwheel, and come to woe!
J. Ashby Sterry, inEnglish Epigrams.
MEN will sooner forgive an injury than an insult.
Lord Chesterfield,Letters to his Son.
WHY is it that stupid people are always so much more anxious to talk to one, than clever people?
Charles Buxton,Notes of Thought.
AND Darwin, too, who leads the throng "in vulgum voces spargere,"Maintains Humanity is nought except a big menagerie,The progeny of tailless apes, sharp-eared but puggy-nosed, sir,Who nightly climbed their "family trees," and on the top reposed, sir.There's Carlyle, on the other hand, whose first and last concern it isTo preach up the "immensities" and muse on the "eternities";But if one credits what one hears, the gist of all his brag is, sir,That "Erbwürst," rightly understood, is transcendental haggis, sir.
F. D., inPall Mall Gazette.
DUNSFORD.Travelling is a great trial of people's inability to live together.Ellesmere.Yes. Lavater says that you do not know a man until you have divided an inheritance with him; but I think a long journey with him will do.
Arthur Helps,Friends in Council.
ON AN ALDERMAN.
THAT he was born it cannot be denied;He ate, drank, slept, talk'd politics, and died.
John Cunningham(1729-1773).
AT a large dinner party at Jerdan's, one of the guests indulged in some wonderful accounts of his shooting. The number of birds he had killed, and the distances at which he had brought them down, were extraordinary. Hood quietly remarked,—
"What he hit is history,What he missed is mystery."
J. R. Planché,Recollections.
I'M very fond of water:It ever must delightEach mother's son or daughter—When qualified aright.
Lord Neaves,Songs and Verses.
AN epicure, while eating oysters, swallowed one that was not fresh. "Zounds, waiter!" he ejaculated, making a wry face; "what sort of an oyster do you call this?" "A native, sir," replied the wielder of the knife. "A native!—I call it asettler, so you need not open any more."
Horace Smith,The Tin Trumpet.
ONCE Uncle went astray,Smoked, joked, and swore away—Sworn by he's now, by aLarge congregation.
Frederick Locker,London Lyrics.
YOU'VE heard what a lady in Italy did—How to vex a cross husband she buried a "kid!"Sam swears she'd have managed things better by halfIf, instead of the "kid," she had buried the calf!
R. H. Barham,Ingoldsby Lyrics.
IL est plus facile de légaliser certaines choses que de les légitimer.
Chamfort,Maximes.
WILT thou love me, fairest?Though thou art not fair,And I think thou wearestSome one else's hair.Thou couldst love, though, dearly:And, as I am told,Thou art very nearlyWorth thy weight, in gold.Dost thou love, sweet one?Tell me if thou dost!Women fairly beat one,But I think thou must.Thou art loved so dearly:I am plain, but thenThou (to speak sincerely)Art as plain again.
C. S. Calverley,Fly Leaves.
"CERTAINLY, my Lord," said the attendant. "He knows me," thought Lothair; but it was not so. When the British nation is at once grateful and enthusiastic, they always call you "my Lord."
Lord Beaconsfield'sLothair.
THE RECOGNITION.
HOME they brought her sailor son,Grown a man across the sea,Tall and broad and black of beard,And hoarse of voice as man may be.Hand to shake and mouth to kiss,Both he offered ere he spoke;And she said—"What man is thisComes to play a sorry joke?"Then they praised him—call'd him "smart,""Tightest lad that ever stept;"But her son she did not know,And she neither smiled nor wept.Rose, a nurse of ninety years,Set a pigeon-pie in sight;She saw him eat—"'Tis he! 'tis he!"She knew him—by his appetite!
Willam Sawyer.
LORD ALLEN, being rather the worse for drinking too much wine at dinner, teased Count D'Orsay, and said some very disagreeable things, which irritated him; when suddenly John Bush entered the club and shook hands with the Count, who exclaimed, "Voilà, la différence entre une bonneboucheet une mauvaisehaleine."
Gronow,Recollections.
ANOTHER WAY.
WHEN lovely woman, Lump of Folly,Would show the world her vainest trait;Would treat herself as child her dolly,And warn each man of sense away;The surest method she'll discoverTo prompt a wink from every eye,Degrade a spouse, disgust a lover,And spoil a scalp-skin, is—to dye.
Shirley Brooks,Wit and Humour.
THE bean is a graceful, confiding, engaging vine; but you can never put beans into poetry, nor into the highest sort of prose. Corn is the child of song. It waves in all literature. But mix it with beans, and its high tone is gone. The bean is a vulgar vegetable, without culture, or any flavour of high society among vegetables.
C. D. Warner,My Summer in a Garden.
THEN Abner Dean of Angel's raised a point of order, whenA church of old red sandstone took him in the abdomen,And he smiled a kind of sickly smile, and curled up on the floor,And the subsequent proceedings interested him no more.
Bret Harte,Complete Works.
"Iwas born, Signora, on New Year's Night, 1800." "Did I not tell you," said the Marquis, "that he is one of the first men of our century?"
Heinrich Heine,Travel Pictures.
WHEN dinner has opprest one,I think it is perhaps the gloomiest hourWhich turns up out of the sad twenty-four.
Lord Byron,Don Juan.
AS a boy, George Washington gave no promise of the greatness he was one day to achieve. He was ignorant of the commonest accomplishments of youth. He could not even lie. But then he never had any of those precious advantages which are within the reach of the humblest of the boys of the present day. Any boy can lie now. I could lie before I could stand.
Mark Twain,Choice Works.
BY the way, Shakespeare endorses polygamy. He speaks of the Merry Wives of Windsor. How many wives did Mr. Windsor have?
C. F. Browne,Artemus Ward's Lecture.
IDARE say she's like the rest o' the women— thinks two and two'll come to make five, if she cries and bothers enough about it.
Bartle Massey, inGeorge Eliot'sAdam Bede.
DON'T you see a hint of marriageIn his sober-sided face,In his rather careless carriageAnd extremely rapid pace?If he's not committed treason,Or some wicked action done,Can you see the faintest reasonWhy a bachelor should run?Why should he be in a flurry?But a loving wife to greet,Is a circumstance to hurryThe most dignified of feet!
John Godfrey Saxe,Poems.
MR. LUTTRELL once said to me, "Sir, the man who says he does not like a good dinner, is either a fool or a liar."
J. R. Planché,Recollections.
TO PHŒBE.
"GENTLE, modest little flower,Sweet epitome of May,Love me but for half an hour,Love me, love me, little fay."Sentences so swiftly flamingIn your tiny shell-like ear,I should always be exclaimingIf I loved you, Phœbe dear:"Smiles that thrill from any distanceShed upon me while I sing!Please ecstaticize existence,Love me, oh thou, fairy thing!"Words like these outpouring sadlyYou'd perpetually hear,If I loved you fondly, madly;—But I do not, Phœbe dear.
W. S. Gilbert,Bab Ballads.
ON one occasion, when Power the actor was present, Hood was asked to propose his health. After enumerating the various talents that popular comedian possessed, he requested the company to observe that such a combination was a remarkable illustration of the old proverb, "It never rains but itpowers."
J. R. Planché,Recollections.
IDREAMED that somebody was dead. It was a private gentleman, and a particular friend; and I was greatly overcome when the news was broken to me (very delicately) by a gentleman in a cocked hat, top boots, and a sheet. Nothing else. "Good God!" I said, "is he dead?" "He is as dead, sir," rejoined the gentleman, "as a door nail. But we must all die, Mr. Dickens, sooner or later, my dear sir." "Ah!" I said; "yes, to be sure. Very true. But what did he die of?" The gentleman burst into a flood of tears, and said, in a voice broken by emotion, "He christened his youngest child, sir, with a toasting fork!"
Charles Dickens,apudJ. T. Fields.
ISUPPOSE all phrases of mere compliment have their turn to be true. A man is occasionally thankful when he says "thank you."
Stephen Guest, inGeorge Eliot'sMill on the Floss.
ON ATALANTA.
WHEN the young Greek for Atalanta sigh'd,He might have fool'd and follow'd till he died!He learn'd the sex, the bribe before her roll'd,And found, the short way to the heart, is—Gold.
George Croly(1780-1860).
DE mortuis nil nisi bene: of the living speak nothing but evil.
Heinrich Heine,Thoughts and Fancies.
IONCE met a man who had forgiven an injury. I hope some day to meet the man who has forgiven an insult.
Charles Buxton,Notes of Thought.
WALK in the Park—you'll seldom failTo find a Sybaris on the railBy Lydia's ponies,Or hap on Barrus, wigged, and stayed,Ogling some unsuspecting maid.The great Gargilius, then, behold!His "long-bow" hunting tales of oldAre now but duller;Fair Neobule too! Is notOne Hebrus here—from Aldershot?Aha, you colour!Be wise. There old Canidia sits;No doubt she's tearing you to bits.Here's Pyrrha, "golden-haired" at will;Prig Damasippus, preaching still;Asterie flirting,—Radiant, of course. We'll make her black,—Ask her when Gyges' ship comes back.
Austin Dobson,Vignettes in Rhyme.
LA reconnaissance de la plupart des hommes n'est qu'une secrète envie de recevoir de plus grands bienfaits.
La Rochefoucauld,Réflexions.
THE surest way to make ourselves agreeable to others is by seeming to think them so.
W. Hazlitt,Characteristics.
SELF-EVIDENT.
WHEN other lips and other eyesTheir tales of love shall tell,Which means the usual sort of liesYou've heard from many a swell;When, bored with what you feel is bosh,You'd give the world to seeA friend whose love you know will wash,Oh, then remember me!When Signor Solo goes his tours,And Captain Craft's at Ryde,And Lord Fitzpop is on the moors,And Lord knows who beside;When to exist you feel a taskWithout a friend at tea,At such a moment I but askThat you'll remember me.
J. R. Planché,Songs and Poems.
WHEN a man is called stingy, it is as much as calling him rich; and when a man's called rich, why he's a man universally respected.
Sir John Vesey, inLord Lytton'sMoney.
CURSED be the Bank of England notes, that tempt the soul to sin!Cursed be the want of acres,—doubly cursed the want of tin!Cursed be the marriage-contract, that enslaved thy soul to greed!Cursed be the sallow lawyer, that prepared and drew the deed!Cursed be his foul apprentice, who the loathsome fees did earn!Cursed be the clerk and parson—cursed be the whole concern!
Bon Gaultier Ballads.
NEVER hold anybody by the button, or the hand, in order to be heard out; for, if people are not willing to hear you, you had much better hold your tongue than them.
Lord Chesterfield,Letters to his Son.
IHAVE learned to love Lucy, though faded she be;If my next love be lovely, the better for me;By the end of next summer, I'll give you my oath,It was best, after all, to have flirted with both.
Charles Godfrey Leland.
GENERAL ORNANO, observing a certain nobleman—who, by some misfortune in his youth, lost the use of his legs—in a Bath chair, which he wheeled about, and inquiring the name of the English peer, D'Orsay answered, "Père la Chaise."
Gronow,Recollections.
POET-PROFESSOR! Now my brain thou kindlest:I am become a most determined Tyndallist.If it is known a fellow can make skies,Why not make bright blue eyes?This to deny the folly of a dunce it is:Surely a girl as easy as a sunset is?If you can make a halo or eclipse,Why not two laughing lips?Why should an author scribble rhymes or articles?Bring me a dozen tiny Tyndall-particles:Therefrom I'll coin a dinner, Nash's wine,And a nice girl to dine.
Mortimer Collins,The British Birds.
THEY now speak of the peculiar difficulties and restrictions of the Episcopal Office. I only read in Scripture of two inhibitions—boxing and polygamy.
Sydney Smith,apudLord Houghton.
ON AN OFFERING MADE BY KING JAMES I. AT A GRAVE COMEDY CALLED "THE MARRIAGE OF ARTS."
AT Christ Church "Marriage," play'd before the King,Lest these learn'd mates should want an offering,The King himself did offer—what, I pray?He offer'd, once or twice—to go away.
A Collection of Epigrams(1727).
---- has only two ideas, and they are his legs, and they are spindle-shanked.
Lady Ashburton,apudLord Houghton.
DRY as Compton's fun,Dry as author's pocket;Bright as that loved oneWhose face adorns my locket;At the beaker's brimBeading brittle bubbles,Sea in which to swim,And cast away all troubles;Sea where sorrow sinks,Ne'er to rise again—oh,Blessedest of drinks,Welcome, "Pommery Gréno!"
Edmund Yates.
ON CLOSE-FIST'S SUBSCRIPTION.
THE charity of Close-Fist, give to fame:—He has at last subscrib'd—how much?—his name.
Anon.
THE late Bishop of Exeter and Baron Alderson were sitting next each other at a public dinner. After the usual toasts had been drunk, the health of "The Navy" was proposed. Lord Campbell, expecting to have to return thanks for "The Bar," and not having heard the toast distinctly, got up. On which the late bishop whispered to Baron Alderson, "What is Campbell about? What is he returning thanks for the Navy for?" "Oh," answered the witty judge, "he has made a mistake. He thinks the word is spelt with a K."
J. C. Young,Diary.
SONG-birds darted about, some inkyAs coal, some snowy (I ween) as curds;Or rosy as pinks, or as roses pinky—They reck of no eerie To-come, these birds!But they skim over bents which the mill-stream washes,Or hang in the lift 'neath a white cloud's hem;They need no parasols, no goloshes;And good Mrs. Trimmer she feedeth them.
C. S. Calverley,Fly Leaves.
THE man who's fond precociously of stirringMust be a spoon.
Thomas Hood.
ON ONE PETER AND HIS WIFE.
OUTRAGEOUS hourly with his wife was Peter;Some do aver he has been known to beat her."She seems unhappy," said a friend one day;Peter turn'd sharply: "What is that you say?Her temper you have there misunderstood:She dares not be unhappy if she would."
Walter Savage Landor.
AMAN who puts a non-natural strained sense on a promise is no better than a robber.
Rev. A. Debarry, inGeorge Eliot'sFelix Holt.
DISTICH.
WHAT is a first love worth except to prepare for a second?What does the second love bring? Only regret for the first.
John Hay,Poems.
IN [Lady Charlotte Lindsay's] later days, when once complimented on looking very well, she replied, "I dare say it's true—the bloom of ugliness is past."
Lord Houghton,Monographs.
IN VIRTUTEM.
VIRTUE we praise, yet practise not her good.(Athenian-like) we act not what we know.So many men do talk of Robin HoodWho never yet shot arrow from his bow.
Thomas Freeman(circa1591-1614).
SCANDAL—what one half the world takes a pleasure in inventing, and the other half in believing.
Horace Smith,The Tin Trumpet.
aLL'S for the best, indeedSuch is My simple creed;Still I must go and weedHard in my garden.
Frederick Locker,London Lyrics.
WHERE'S the use of talking to a woman with babbies? She's got no conscience—no conscience—it's all run to milk.
Bartle Massey, inGeorge Eliot'sAdam Bede.
TOGETHER must we seekThat undiscovered country, from whose bournNo uncommercial travellers return.
Brutus, inG. O. Trevelyan'sHorace at Athens.
THE Mormon's religion is singular, and his wives are plural.
C. F. Browne,Artemus Ward's Lecture.
AT morning's callThe small-voiced pug-dog welcomes in the sun,And flea-bit mongrels, wakening one by one,Give answer all.When evening dimDraws round us, then the lovely caterwaul,Tart solo, sour duet, and general squall,These are our hymn.
Oliver Wendell Holmes.
CHARLES LAMB was sitting next some chattering woman at dinner. Observing he didn't attend to her, "You don't seem," said the lady, "to be at all the better for what I have been saying to you." "No, ma'am," he answered, "but this gentleman on the other side of me must, for it all came in at one ear and went out at the other."
Thomas Moore,Diary.
FORTY times over let Michaelmas pass,Grizzling hair the brain doth clear—Then you know a boy is an ass,Then you know the worth of a lass,Once you have come to Forty Year.
W. M. Thackeray.
MEN are not troubled to hear a man dispraised, because they know, though he be naught, there's worth in others. But women are mightily troubled to hear any one of them spoken against, as if the sex itself were guilty of some untrustworthiness.
Selden,Table Talk.
'TWAS EVER THUS.
INEVER rear'd a young gazelle,(Because, you see, I never tried);But, had it known and loved me well,No doubt the creature would have died.My rich and aged uncle JohnHas known me long and loves me well,But still persists in living on—I would he were a young gazelle.I never loved a tree or flower;But, if Ihad, I beg to sayThe blight, the wind, the sun, or shower,Would soon have wither'd it away.I've dearly loved my uncle John,From childhood till the present hour,And yet he will go living on,—I would he were a tree or flower!
H. S. Leigh,Carols of Cockayne.
ADOMESTIC WOMAN.—A woman like a domestic.
Anne Evans,Poems and Music.
"The time has come," the Walrus said,"To talk of many things;Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax—Of cabbages—and kings—And why the sea is boiling hot—And whether pigs have wings.""But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,"Before we have our chat;For some of us are out of breath,And all of us are fat!""No hurry!" said the Carpenter:They thanked him much for that.
Lewis Carroll,Through the Looking-Glass.
IGNORANCE is not so damnable as humbug, but when it prescribes pills it may happen to do more harm.
Felix Holt, inGeorge Eliot's novel.
IPUSH aside the blinding books;The reverend pages seem to wink;Eachletterlike adozenlooks,Whichdoesn't let astudent think.Within my ears I hear a "thrum;"Before my eyes there floats a haze;And mocking shadows flit and come,And make mynightsa constantdaze!
Robert Reece, inComic Poets.
ORTHODOXY is at a low ebb. Only two clergymen accepted my offer to come and help hoe my potatoes for the privilege of using my vegetable total-depravity figure about the snake-grass, or quash-grass, as some call it; and these two did not bring hoes. There seems to be a lack of disposition to hoe among our educated clergy.
C. D. Warner,My Summer in a Garden.
HOME THEY BROUGHT.
HOME they brought her lap-dog dead,Just run over by a fly;Jeames to Buttons, winking, said,"Won't there be a row? oh my!"Then they called the flyman low,Said his baseness could be proved,How she to the Beak should go,—Yet she neither spoke nor moved.Said her maid (and risked her place)"In the 'ouse it should have kept,Flymen drives at such a pace"—Still the lady's anger slept.Rose her husband, best of dears,Laid a bracelet on her knee,Like a playful child she boxed his ears,—"Sweet old pet!—let's have some tea!"
Shirley Brooks,Wit and Humour.
ON BLESSED IGNORANCE.
HE is most happy, sure, that knoweth nought,Because he knows not that he knoweth not.
Robert Heath(circa1585-1607).
ALONE amid the festive throngOne infant brow is sad!One cherub face is wet with grief,—What ails you, little lad?Why still with scarifying sleeveThat woful visage scrub?Ah, much I fear, my gentle boy,You don't enjoy your grub.Here, on a sympathetic heart,Your tale of suffering pour.Come, darling! Tell me all. "Boo—boo—I can't eat any more!"
H. Cholmondeley Pennell,Puck on Pegasus.
NEVER take a sheet-bath—never. Next to meeting a lady acquaintance who, for reasons best known to herself, don't see you when she looks at you, and don't know you when she sees you, it is about the most uncomfortable thing in the world.
Mark Twain,Choice Works.
THE critic's lot is passing hard—Between ourselves, I think reviewers,When call'd to truss a crowing bard,Should not be sparing of the skewers.
Frederick Locker,London Lyrics.
TO-MORROW the critics will commence. You know who the critics are? The men who have failed in literature and art.
Phœbus, inLord Beaconsfield'sLothair.
THAT climax of all human ills—The inflammation of his weekly bills.
Lord Byron,Don Juan.
ON n'a guère de défauts qui ne soient plus pardonnables que les moyens dont on se sert pour les cacher.
La Rochefoucauld,Réflexions.
MEETING a friend one day, when the weather had taken a most sudden and unaccountable turn from cold to warmth, the subject was mooted as usual, and characterized by the gentleman as being "most extraordinary." "Yes," replied [Compton], "it is a most unheard of thing; we've jumped from winter into summer without a spring."
Memoir of Henry Compton.
"PRAY what is this Permissive Bill,That some folks rave about?I can't with all my pains and skill,Its meaning quite make out?"O! it's a little simple Bill,That seeks to passincog.,TopermitME—topreventYOU—From having a glass of grog.
Lord Neaves,Songs and Verses.
QUELQUE mal qu'un homme puisse penser des femmes, il n'y a pas de femme qui n'en pense encore plus mal que lui.
Chamfort,Maximes.
WITH thy fogs, all so thick and so yellow,The most approved tint forennui,Oh, when shall a man see thy fellow,November, forfelo-de-se?
J. R. Planché,Songs and Poems.
"LIFE," continued Mr. Rose, "is a series ofmoments and emotions.""And a series of absurdities, too, veryoften," said Dr. Jenkinson."Life is a solemn mystery," said Mr. Stocks, severely."Life is a damned nuisance," muttered Leslie to himself.
W. H. Mallock,The New Republic.
THE world's an ugly world. OffendGood people, how they wrangle!Their manners that they never mend,—The characters they mangle!They eat, and drink, and scheme, and plod,—They go to church on Sunday;And many are afraid of God—And more ofMrs. Grundy.
Frederick Locker,London Lyrics.
IWENT away the first, in order to give the men an opportunity of abusing me; for whenever the men abuse, the women, to support alike their coquetry and the conversation, think themselves called upon to defend.
Pelham, inLord Lytton's novel.
THERE'S one John Bright, a Manchester man,Who taught the Tories to rule,By setting their stamp on his patent planFor renewing the youth of John Bull;But I say that it won't do at all.To seek for salvationBy mere numerationOf polls would surprise,If they were to rise,Not a little both Plato and Paul.
J. S. Blackie,Musa Burschicosa.
UNE femme vertueuse a dans le cœur une fibre du moins ou de plus que les autres femmes; elle est stupide ou sublime.
Balzac,Physiologie du Mariage.
ON SCOTCH WEATHER.
SCOTLAND! thy weather's like a modish wife;Thy winds and rains for ever are at strife;Like thee the termagants their blustering try,And, when they can no longer scold, they cry.
Aaron Hill(1685-1750).
WENT with Lamb to Richman's. Richman produced one of Chatterton's forgeries. In one manuscript there were seventeen different kinds of e's. "Oh," said Lamb, "that must have been written by one of the—'Mob of gentlemen who write withease.'"
Crabb Robinson,Diary.
SCIRE TUUM NIHIL FIT.
TO have a thing is little, if you're not allowed to show it,And to know a thing is nothing, unless others know you know it.
Lord Neaves.
YOU'RE at an evening party, withA group of pleasant folks,—You venture quietly to crackThe least of little jokes,—A lady doesn't catch the point,And begs you to explain,—Alas! for one who drops a jestAnd takes it up again!You drop a prettyjeu-de-motInto a neighbour's ears,Who likes to give you credit forThe clever things he hears;And so he hawks your jest about,The old, authentic one,Just breaking off the point of it,And leaving out the pun!
John Godfrey Saxe,Poems.
[MONTROND'S] death was a very wretched one. Left alone to the tender mercies of a well-known "lorette" of those days, Desirée R——, as he lay upon his bed, between fits of pain and drowsiness, he could see his fair friend picking from his shelves the choicest specimens of his old Sèvres china, or other articles ofvertu. Turning to his doctor, he said, with a gleam of his old fun, "Qu'elle est attachante, cette femme-là!"
Gronow,Recollections.
WE love thee, Ann Maria Smith,And in thy condescensionWe see a future full of joysToo numerous to mention.There's Cupid's arrow in thy glance,That by thy love's coercionHas reached our melting heart of hearts,And asked for one insertion.There's music in thy honest tone,And silver in thy laughter;And truth—but we will give the fullParticulars hereafter.
R. H. Newell,Orpheus C. Kerr Papers.
"OF course you know the three reasons which takemen into society in London?" I said, after a pause."No, I don't. What are they?""Either to find a wife, or to look after one's wife, or to look after somebody else's."
L. Oliphant,Piccadilly.
ON ONE WHO HAD A LARGE NOSE AND SQUINTED.
"THE reason why Doctor Dash squints, I suppose,Is because his two eyes are afraid of his nose.
Anon., inMoore'sDiary.
NEVER attack whole bodies of any kind. Individuals forgive sometimes; but bodies and societies never do.
Lord Chesterfield,Letters to his Son.
ON THE RIGHTS OF MINORITIES.
STURDY Tom Paine, biographers relate,Once with his friends engaged in warm debate.Said they, "Minorities are always right;"Said he, "The truth is just the opposite."Finding them stubborn, "Frankly, now," said he,"In this opinion do ye all agree;All, every one, without exception?" WhenThey thus affirmed unanimously, "Then,Correct," said he, "my sentiment must be,For I myself am the minority."
R. Garnett,Idylls and Epigrams.
THE Indians on the Overland Route live on route and herbs. They are an intemperate people. They drink with impunity, or anybody who invites them.
C. F. Browne,Artemus Ward's Lecture.
ON ONE WEARING FALSE HAIR.
THEY say that thou dost tinge (O monstrous lie!)The hair that thou so raven-black dost buy.