a long while delayed. At length, somewhat importunate, he stirred the
nobleman’s patience so far that in a great rage he bad him get him gone
for a woodcock as he was, at which the petitioner, smiling, humbly
thanked his Lordship for that present courtesy. The lord, turning back
and supposing he had flouted, asked him what courtesy? “Why, truly, my
lord,” said he, “I have known myself a _Fowle_ these fifty years and
upwards, but never knew what fowl till now your lordship told me.” His
answer pleased, and his suite was despatched with all possible speed.
AN ABOMINABLE TRUTH.
A notable braggard boasted how it was his chance to meet with two of
his arch-enemies at once. “The one,” said he, “I tossed so high in the
air, that had he had at his back a baker’s basket full of bread, though
he had eaten all the way, he would have been starved in his fall ere he
had reached the ground; the other he struck so deep into the earth that
he left no more of him to be seen above ground but his head and one of
his arms, and those to no other end than to put off his hat to him, as
he had occasion to pass that way.”
A PAINTED FACE.
A lady, that used to plaister her face extremely so by art, to repair
the decays of nature, was on a time, with divers others, invited abroad
to dinner. But one of them, an acquaintance of her’s, wished her by no
means to go. “Why?” said my lady. “Marry,” replies the gentleman, “’tis
ten to one we shall be wondrous merry, and _you cannot well laugh, for
fear of shewing two faces_.”
A TUTOR AND HIS SCHOLAR.
A young lad of a college in Oxford, when he should have been in the
public hall at disputations, a little before the time fell asleep, and
by that means failed of coming down. His tutor, being then moderator,
missed him, and after exercise was done went up to his study, where,
finding him asleep, he waked him, chid him for sleeping at that time
of day, and angrily asked him why he was not at disputations. The
youth, after a little yawning and stretching, replied, “Truly, sir, _I
did not dream of it_.”
PETER MARTYR.
One Peter Martyr, a great scholar, and very famous in his time, had
been a long time suitor for a bishopric, but was still crossed in
his suit. At last four friars-confessors were preferred together to
four vacant Sees, and he not remembered, which he hearing of, said,
“Methinks amongst so many confessors one _Martyr_ would not have done
amiss.”
A YOUNG MASTER OF ARTS.
A young master of arts, the very next day after the commencement,
having his course to a common place in the chapel, where were divers
that but the day before had taken their degree, chose his text out
of the eighth chapter of Job. The words were these: “We are but of
yesterday, and know nothing.” “This text,” said he, “doth fitly divide
itself into two branches--our standing and our understanding--our
standing in these words, ‘_We are but of yesterday_;’ our
understanding, ‘_We know nothing_.’”
A TRAVELLER DROWNED.
When a gentleman heard that a traveller, a friend of his, was drowned,
he fetched a great sigh and said, “Now God rest his soul, for he is
gone the way of all flesh.” “Nay,” said another, then standing by, “if
he be drowned, he is rather gone the way of all fish.”
A MONUMENT TO CRANMER.
The High Church at Oxford, having acquired a very large amount of
subscribed money to erect a temple or monument in honour of Archbishop
Cranmer, was desirous to find a site on the very spot where he was
buried. In their search they not only concluded that the spot had
been found but also his bones. To make quite certain these were sent
for examination to Professor Buckland, who, having examined them,
pronounced them to be the bones of a _cow_.
TALLEYRAND.
The wife of an ambassador, in passing before Talleyrand through an
ante-room to dinner, the latter looking up, exclaimed significantly,
“Ah!” The lady, speaking across the table during dinner, asked him
why he said “Oh!” Talleyrand, with a grave, self-vindicatory look,
answered, “_Madame, je n’ai pas dit oh! j’ai dit Ah!_”
DENTISTRY IN INDIA.
An English dentist practising in India got a commission to make a
set of teeth for the King of Delhi. The prime difficulty was how
to obtain the model, as the hand of a Christian in the royal mouth
would be counted an abomination. It was at last decided that if his
hands were washed in the Ganges contact might be permitted. The teeth
suited admirably. One of the courtiers declared they would be good for
nothing, and the king, to test them, desired him to put his finger in
his mouth and try. The king made a snap and nearly bit the finger in
two. Unhappily, the teeth suited so well that the king’s appetite,
being enormous, brought on a plethora, which nearly killed him, and the
teeth were consigned to the Ganges.
LONDON HOSPITALITY TO MEN OF GENIUS.
Sydney Smith was accustomed to entertain his friends with a
description of the _dining_ process by which Londoners extracted all
they wanted from new literary lions. “Here’s a new man of genius
arrived; put on the stew pan; fry away; we’ll soon get out of him all
we want.”
SELLING A HORSE.
A horse dealer had a horse for sale. The intending purchaser, intending
to use him as a hunter, was desirous of knowing his leaping qualities,
and enquired, “Would he take timber?” “He’d jump over your head,”
answers the other; “I don’t know what you call _that_.”
THE PARALLEL OF THE ODYSSEY AND THE RED INDIAN.
Homer relates how in spite of all the precautions of Ulysses, his
companions let loose the Bag of the Winds, and he, calmly wrapping
his mantle round his head, submits to his fate. The passage is thus
translated--
“I then awaking, in my noble mind
Stood doubting, whether from my vessel’s side
Immersed to perish in the flood, or calm
To endure my sorrows and consent to live.
I calm endured them; but around my head
Winding my mantle, laid me down below.”
An Indian chief was lying asleep in his boat, which was fastened to the
shore, in the still water above the current of the Niagara Falls. An
enemy passing along cut the rope and sent the boat adrift, which was
soon hurrying down the cataract. The Indian, awaking, at once saw his
danger, and made every effort by means of his paddle to stop the career
of the canoe and gain the land. He soon found that his efforts were
unavailing, and that his destruction was at hand. He took a draught
from his brandy flask, wrapped his mantle about him, and calmly looking
forward at the fate awaiting him, went down the Falls.
THE LONDON BIBLIOPOLIST.
An author was entertaining Theodore Hook with a description of a dinner
party at which a well known bibliopolist had partaken too freely,
when the wit remarked, “Why, you appear to me to have emptied your
_wine-cellar_ into your _book-seller_.”
AN ENTOMOLOGIST’S DINNER.
Sydney Smith, on the occasion of his being invited by his publisher to
meet at dinner several distinguished entomologists, suggested as a bill
of fare proper for the occasion, “To wit, flea patés, earthworms on
toast, caterpillars crawling in cream and removing themselves,” &c., &c.
LORD CHANCELLOR ERSKINE.
This great orator and profound lawyer, among his many qualifications,
was signally deficient in his knowledge of the French language. Being
in Paris, he was desirous of having several of his friends to dinner,
and insisted on writing the notes of invitation himself. On Wednesday,
the day appointed, none of his friends appeared, and he was in great
perplexity. On inquiry being made if he was certain that his notes were
all right, after a short pause, he asked, “Isn’t _Vendredi_ French for
Wednesday?”
ROBERT BURNS.
On one occasion at a public dinner, during the feverish times of
Jacobinism, the poet was asked for a toast. In response, he gave a
Bible toast, “the last verse of the last chapter of the last Book of
Kings.” On another occasion, before some high Tories, having to give a
toast, he said to the chairman, “You agree that Lords should have their
privileges?” “Yes, certainly,” was the reply. “Well, then, I’ll give
you the privileges of the Lords of the Creation.”
RICHELIEU’S LIBERALITY.
Fenelon frequently teased Richelieu for subscriptions to charitable
undertakings, but quite ineffectually. Telling Richelieu that he had
just seen his picture, the latter with a sneer asked “Did you ask
it for a subscription?” “No,” answered Fenelon, “I saw there was no
chance, it was so like you.”
BISHOP HORSLEY.
In a speech in the House of Lords on the Slave Trade, the worthy Bishop
made a quotation on the authority of Mungo Park to the effect “That to
such a pitch of elegance and refinement has Africa advanced, that in
the bosom, in the very heart of that calumniated country, there are
women to be found wearing white petticoats.”
SHABBY DINNERS.
A shabby Amphytrion asked repeatedly a neighbour of his to dine with
him. After many refusals he at length accepted an invitation, but found
the dinner so meagre and bad that he got scarcely a morsel to eat.
When the dishes were removed the host said, “Now the ice is broken, I
suppose you will ask me to dine with you some day.” “Most willingly.”
“Name your day, then.” “To-day,” answered the dinnerless guest.
It is told of another, remarkable for absence of mind, that dining at
the same sort of shabby repast he fancied himself in his own house, and
began to apologise for the wretchedness of the dinner.
IN THE WRONG PLACE.
A young fellow having found his way to a ball-room at Chelsea, was
asked by one of the stewards, “What are you?” (meaning to enquire what
o’clock it was). Awaking to a lively consciousness of the intrusion of
which he had been guilty, he stammered out, “Why, sir, I confess I am a
baker, but if you will have the goodness to say no more about it I will
instantly leave the room.”
THE RETORT COURTEOUS.
A lady from Vienna was very pronounced in expressing her opinion that
“French was spoken wretchedly in London.” Lord Dudley, somewhat stung
by the remark, replied, “It is true, madam, we have not enjoyed the
advantage of having had the French twice in our capital.”
CHARLES LAMB.
Lamb had for his next neighbour, at dinner, a chattering woman.
Observing that he didn’t attend to what she was saying, she remarked,
“You don’t seem to be at all the better for what I have been saying to
you.” “No, madam,” 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.”
BANNISTER AT SIXTY-FIVE.
Bannister was somewhat sad in finding he had reached his sixty-fifth
year, which was exactly the number of his house. Returning home in a
melancholy humour, and looking up at the number plate on the door,
soliloquised thus: “Aye, you needn’t tell me, I know it; you told me
the same thing yesterday.”
THE BRABANTER AND THE SWISS.
A Brabanter, in conversation with a Swiss, charged the latter with
always being ready to fight for money, while he (the Brabanter) fought
for honour. In reply, the Swiss drily said, “The truth is, we each of
us fight for what each most wants.”
CONTENTMENT.
It is told of Lord Muskery, that when on his death-bed, in reviewing
his past life, he said, “that he had nothing to reproach himself with,
having never through life denied himself any thing.”
CHEAP LIVING.
A man of respectable appearance made a boast of how his eating cost
him almost nothing. “On Sunday,” said he, “I always dine with an old
friend, and then eat so much that it lasts until Wednesday, when I buy
some tripe, which I hate like the devil, and which makes me so sick
that I can eat nothing more till Sunday again.”
DUTCH POLITENESS.
A Dutch commercial house in writing to their correspondents in London,
concluded their letter as follows:--“Sugars are falling more and more
every day; not so the respect and esteem with which we are, &c., &c.”
SMITH THE NABOB.
General Smith, the celebrated Nabob, formed one of a shooting party.
During luncheon he enlarged on his want of success, and as an excuse
for his bad shooting alleged that he had “spoilt his hand by shooting
pea-cocks with the Great Mogul.” On another occasion having invited a
large number of friends to his country seat, he had to write putting
off the engagement saying, “I find my damned fellow of a steward has,
in the meantime, sold the estate.”
LORD KENYON’S PARSIMONY.
Some one remarking on the inaccuracy of the inscription on Lord
Kenyon’s tomb, _Mors janna vita_, in the hearing of Lord Ellenborough,
the latter remarked that _that_ had been done by Lord Kenyon’s express
desire, as he left it in his will that they should not go to the
expense of a diphthong.
MISTAKEN.
An old gentleman having fallen sound asleep at the fireside was
awakened suddenly by the clatter of the fire-irons all tumbling down,
and immediately exclaimed, “What! going to bed without one kiss,”
thinking it was the children.
THE POOR AUTHOR AND HIS PUBLISHER.
A poor author received an account from his publisher among the items
of which was, “Cellarage, £3 10_s._ 6_d._” He naturally concluded that
this was a charge for the trouble of selling the 700 copies which
formed the edition, but on further enquiry learned that it was the
charge for _cellar_-room, as not a copy had stirred from thence.
DONELLY, THE CHAMPION.
Donelly, the famous Irish champion, had a great fight on at the
Curragh. Miss Kelly, a young lady of fine behaviour, had followed him
thither, and had wagered her gold watch and chain and her coach and
four that he would win. At one time Donelly was getting the worst of
it when she exclaimed, “Oh, Donelly, would you have me go back on foot
and not know the hour?” on which he rallied and won.
NOVEL WAY TO AVOID PAYING A DEBT.
During the French war, Mr. Pitt was informed by a person named Forth
that there were two persons on their way from the north of Europe
to assassinate him. Measures were accordingly taken to track their
progress, they were seized at Brussells and lay in confinement there
for a long time. It afterwards came to be known that instead of being
assassins, they were creditors of Forth’s, who were on their way to
have him arrested for a large sum, and he took this method to get quit
of them.
PAGANINI.
Tom Moore who was present at an opera in London where Paganini
performed, writes thus:--“Paganini abuses his powers; he _could_ play
divinely, and does sometimes, for a minute or two, but then comes his
surprises and his tricks, his bow in convulsions, and his inharmonics
like the mewlings of an expiring cat.”
EPITAPH.
Lord Ashburnham was accustomed to quote the following epitaph which he
had come across in a country churchyard as a perfect exemplification of
poetry, piety, and politeness:
“You who stand around my grave,
And say, ‘His life is gone;’
You are mistaken--pardon me--
My life is but begun.”
COLERIDGE, THE POET.
Coleridge was lodging at Ramsgate, where his reputation as a poet was
known. The servant-maid entering his room, informed him that he was
wanted, there being a person at the door inquiring for a poet, on going
out he found it was the _pot-boy_ from the public-house, whose cry of
“Any pots for the Angel?” the girl had mistaken for a demand for a poet.
JOHN KEMBLE’S RIVAL.
John Kemble in performing one of his favourite parts at a country
theatre was much interrupted by a squalling baby. Able to endure the
rival performance no longer, he walked with solemn step to the front of
the stage, and addressing the audience in his most tragic tones, said,
“Ladies and gentlemen, unless the play is stopped the child cannot
possibly go on.”
APPETITE OF LOUIS XIV.
“I have seen the king,” says a writer of memoirs, “not once, but often,
eat four plates of different soups, an entire pheasant, a partridge, a
dish full of salad, a piece of ham, a slice of mutton with gravy, and
large quantities of all kinds of _confitures_.”
IGNORANCE OF A FRENCH CURÉ.
A French Curé, in a sequestrated part of the south of France, inquired
of an English traveller whether English women wore rings in their
noses? to which he replied, “that, in the north of England, near China,
it was possible they might, but certainly not in London.”
WORDSWORTH’S OPINION OF HIMSELF.
Among his contemporaries, Wordsworth was generally thought to entertain
a very high opinion of himself. At a large dinner party where Sir
Humphry Davy was present, he suddenly, in the most epic tone, called
from the top of the table to the bottom, “Davy!” and on Davy putting
forth his head in awful expectation of what was coming, said, “Do you
know why I published the ‘White Doe’ in quarto?” “No, what was it?” “To
show the world my own opinion of it.”
A COUNTRY DINNER.
On a certain occasion Sydney Smith set off to dine with a neighbouring
clergyman. After toiling along a dusty road, he reached the parsonage
hungry and weary. Seated in a small hot-room, a stripling opened the
door and beckoned our host out of the room. In a short time he returned
looking greatly distressed, saying, “The woman assisting in the kitchen
had mistaken the soup for dirty water, and had thrown it out, and so we
must do without it.” At last, dinner was announced to our great joy,
but, oh ye gods, as we entered the dining room what a gale met our
nose! the venison was high, the venison was uneatable, and was obliged
to follow on the soup with all speed.
THE HIGHLANDER AND SIR SYDNEY SMITH.
Sir James Mackintosh on one occasion went to sup with Sydney Smith,
accompanied by a raw Scotch cousin, an ensign in a Highland regiment.
On hearing the name of his host, he nudged Sir James and enquired in
an audible whisper, “Is that the great Sir Sydney?” “Yes, yes,” said
Sir James, and giving Sydney, the hint, he at once assumed the military
character, performed the part of the hero of Acre to perfection, fought
all the battles over again, and showed how he had charged the Turk,
to the infinite delight of the young Scotsman, who was charmed with
the kindness and condescension of the great Sir Sydney. Meanwhile,
however, the other guests were suffering severe torture and nearly
burst with suppressing laughter. In return for the kindness he had
received, nothing would content the young Highlander but that he
must set off about twelve o’clock at night to fetch the piper of the
regiment to pipe to the “Great Sir Sydney,” who said he had never heard
the bagpipes. Before he returned, the company had dispersed. Sir James
declaring he would be decapitated if he remained. A few days after
this occurrence Sir James and his cousin met Sydney Smith, with his
wife leaning on his arm. He introduced her as his wife, upon which
the young Highlander whispered to Sir James, and looking at the lady,
“I did na ken the great Sir Sydney was married.” “Why, no,” said Sir
James, winking at him, “not ex-act-ly married--only an Egyptian slave
he brought over with him; Fatima, you know, you understand.”
SYDNEY SMITH’S COUNTRY COUSIN.
A country cousin used sometimes to visit Sydney Smith--a simple,
warm-hearted rustic. It was his custom occasionally to have some of
his friends to supper, and on their arrival she would come to him and
whisper, “Now Sydney, I know that these are all remarkable men, do tell
me who they are?” “Oh, yes,” said he, laughing. “That is Hannibal,”
pointing to Mr. Whishaw, “he lost his leg in the Carthagenian war; and
that is Socrates,” pointing to Luttrell; “and that is Solon,” pointing
to Horner. The girl opened her ears, eyes, and mouth with admiration,
yet half believing that Sydney was making fun of her.
SCOTTISH METAPHYSICS.
The Scottish people are thought to be so imbued with metaphysics, that
even in love the passion discovers itself. On one occasion at a ball,
Sydney Smith overheard a young lady of his acquaintance, in a pause in
the music, remark to her partner, “What you say, my lord, is very true
in the _abstract_, but----” here the fiddlers began, and the rest was
lost.
DESIRE TO ROAST A QUAKER.
Sydney Smith confessed to a friend that he had one little weakness--one
secret wish--“he should like to roast a Quaker.” “Good heavens, no,
Smith!” said his friend full of horror, “roast a Quaker?” “Yes, sir”
(with the greatest gravity), “roast a Quaker!” “But do you consider,
sir, the torture?” “Yes, I have considered everything; it may be wrong,
as you say; the Quaker would undoubtedly suffer acutely, I have striven
against the taste in vain, one would satisfy me--only one!”
MASTER DOMINIQUE.
A gentleman called Tenant was a favourite in London society early in
this century, the mysteries of whose _menage_ often afforded amusement
to his friends. He lived in a small lodging, and his establishment was
confined to an old black servant called Dominique, who tyrannised over
him. He was overheard one morning calling from his bed, “Dominique!
Dominique!” but no Dominique appeared. “Why don’t you bring me my
stockings, Dominique?” “Can’t come, Massa.” “Why can’t you come,
Dominique?” “Can’t come, Massa, I am _dronke_.”
APPROPRIATE ANSWERS.
A man being asked did he understand German, answered, “No, but I have a
cousin who plays the German flute.” Another enquiring at a bookseller,
if he had the “Whole duty of man,” got for answer, “No, sir, but we
have Mrs. Glasse’s cookery!”
SYDNEY SMITH’S SERVANTS.
Sydney Smith had for an attendant in his time a clean, fair, squat,
tidy little girl about twelve years of age named Bunch. Mrs. Marcet,
who was staying in the house, met her host at the foot of the stair
when Bunch was passing. Mr. Smith suddenly said, “Bunch, do you like
roast duck or boiled chicken?” Bunch had probably never tasted either
the one or the other in her life, but answered without a moment’s
hesitation, “Roast duck please, sir,” and disappeared. I laughed. “You
may laugh,” said he, “but you have no idea of the labour it has cost
me to give her that decision of character. The Yorkshire peasantry are
the quickest and shrewdest in the world, but you can never get a direct
answer from them; if you ask them even their own names, they always
scratch their heads and say, ‘A’s sur ai don’t knaw, sir;’ but I have
brought Bunch to such perfection that she never hesitates now on any
subject, however difficult. I am very strict with her. Would you like
to hear her repeat her crimes? She has them by heart and repeats them
everyday.” “Come here, Bunch!” (calling out to her), “come and repeat
your crimes to Mrs. Marcet;” and Bunch, quite as a matter of course, as
grave as a judge, without the least hesitation, and with a loud voice
began to repeat--“Plate-snatching, gravy-spilling, door-slamming,
blue-bottle fly-catching and curtsey-bobbing.” “Explain to Mrs. Marcet
what blue-bottle fly-catching is.” “Standing with my mouth open and
not attending, sir.” “And what is curtsey-bobbing?” “Curtseying to
the centre of the earth, please sir.” “Good girl! now you may go.”
“She makes a capital waiter, I assure you. On _state_ occasions, Jack
Robinson, my carpenter, takes off his apron and waits too, and does
pretty well, but he sometimes naturally makes a mistake, and sticks a
gimlet into the bread instead of a fork.”
SYDNEY SMITH’S COACH COMPANIONS.
On another occasion some years later, when I was going to Brougham
Hall, two raw Scotch girls got into the coach in the dark, near
Carlisle. “It is very disagreeable getting into a coach in the dark,”
exclaimed one, after arranging her band-boxes, “one cannot see one’s
company.” “Very true, ma’am, and you have a great loss in not seeing
me, for I am a remarkably handsome man.” “No, sir! are you really?”
said both. “Yes, and in the flower of my youth.” “What a pity,” said
they. We soon passed near a lamp-post; they both darted forward to
get a look at me. “Lo, sir, you seem very stout.” “Oh, no, not at
all, ma’am, it’s only my great coat.” “Where are you going, sir?” “To
Brougham Hall.” “Why, you must be a very remarkable man, to be going to
Brougham Hall.” “I am a very remarkable man, ma’am.” At Penrith they
got out, after having talked incessantly, and tried every possible
means to discover who I was, exclaiming, as they went off laughing,
“Well, it is very provoking we can’t see you, but we’ll find out who
you are at the hall; Lord Brougham always comes to the ball at Penrith,
and we shall certainly be there, and shall soon discover your name.”
A PROOF OF GOOD WINE.
A hospitable host in recommending some light wine on the dinner table
used the old expression, “There’s not a headache in a bottle of it.”
One of his guests, with more truth than politeness, replied, “No, but
there’s a belly-ache in every glass of it.”
AN IMPOSTOR.