The late Rev. Thomas Toller, an eminent dissenting minister, (joint
preacher with the celebrated Dr. James Fordyce, at Monkwell-street,)
resided many years in the Lower-street, Islington. One day, when he got
into the stage to come to London, he met with two ladies of his
acquaintance, and a loquacious young Irishman, who was very obtrusive
with his "would-be wit" to the females. The coachman soon stopped to
take up another passenger, who, Dutchman-like, was "_slow to make
haste_." A young dog, being confined in the neighbourhood, bewailed its
loss of liberty, by making an hideous noise; which all the party agreed
was very disagreeable. The Hibernian, desirous to display his wit, and
to _quiz_ the parson, said, "The animal was so unpleasantly noisy, it
must be a presbyterian _dog_." Mr. Toller calmly, but with much apparent
confidence, said, "I am sure it is an Irish dog."--"How do you know
that?" exclaimed the astonished young man with eagerness.--"I know it,
sir," (replied the divine,) "by its impudence and its howl." This
seasonable retort cured the garrulity of the patient, and gave him a
locked-jaw till the stage arrived at the Royal Exchange.