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, _apud_ LORD 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 when _you_ meet 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, "_Parcus_
deorum 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_, in W. S. GILBERT's _Trial 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 not _my_ fault if _others_ hurt you.
LORD BYRON, _Don Juan_.
He was not an intellectual Croesus, but his pockets
were full of sixpences.
LORD BEACONSFIELD, _Lothair_.
It's after a dinner at Freemason's Hall
That 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 say _hic_.
So the company leave him to slumber and snore
Till 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, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.
LEWIS CARROLL, _Through the Looking-Glass_.
A man 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 determined
How the man had determined his end!
JOHN GODFREY SAXE, _Poems_.
I remember 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 cure _us_ like so many hams.
J. R. PLANCHÉ, _Songs and Poems_.
A kind 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_, in LORD LYTTON's _Richelieu_.
At a musical _soirée_ in 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 thing
Did 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 like _me_ now, Rose?"--
"As I liked 'little Bowes'!"
"Am I then to suppose----"
"_Hush!--you mustn't wake baby!_"
"_Did_ you 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_.
O if 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 a _chevaux-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's
My most exciting hopes are dashed;
I never wore my spotless ducks
But 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 swell
In 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 hast
A 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 friends
Perhaps 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 place
To 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._
A lovely 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, in _Comic 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_, in LORD BEACONSFIELD's _Endymion_.
Now I hold it is not decent for a scientific gent
To say another is an ass,--at least, to all intent;
Nor should the individual who happens to be meant
Reply 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 sinner
The diff'rence makes?--a sermon? Bah! a dinner.
ALFRED AUSTIN, _The Season_.
"I vent 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. _My_ missus 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, _apud_ J. T. FIELDS.
The most forlorn--what worms we are!--
Would wish to finish this cigar
Before 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_, in GEORGE ELIOT's _Middlemarch_.
Some think that man from a monkey grew
By steps of long generation,
When, after many blunders, a few
Good hits were made in creation;
But I can't comprehend this at all;
Of blind groping forces
Though Darwin discourses,
I rather incline
To believe in design
With 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 am _dirty_." "And
what is your wife?" "Mine wife is _dirty-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 pen
Than 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 paid
Her 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 be
For ever and for ever.
Preach, softly preach, in lawn and be
A comely, model liver,
But ne'er 'neath thee my seat shall be
For 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 be
For 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_, in HELPS's _Friends 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
ever _naturally_ so 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 of _waist_!
J. ASHBY STERRY, in _English Epigrams_.
Lord Palmerston, during his last attack of
gout, exclaimed, playfully, "_Die_, my dear
doctor! That's the _last_ thing I think of doing."
J. C. JEAFFRESON, _About Lawyers_.
_ON POVERTY._
He who in his pocket has no money
Should, 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, and
the 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 ease
Of _un_accommodation,--
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_.
A country 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-vociferize
Even sound itself.
_Chrononhotonthologos_, in CAREY'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 what
It 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.
DUMAS fils, _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_, in W. S. GILBERT's _Patience_.
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 never _read_." 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 that _he_, at least, had been taught
it. "Are you sure?" replied Dr. Whately. "What
think you of this--
'Old Daddy Longlegs _won'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 vivants_ were
among the chief amusements, and scenes from
_Ivanhoe_ were among the selections. All the
parts were filled up but that of _Isaac 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 could _do a
Jew_ in 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 neither _Echo_ nor _Fun_ to-day,
For thy _hand_ is not Echoless--there they are,
_Fun_, _Glowworm_, and _Echo_, and _Evening 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 hues
Are 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_, in MALLOCK's _New Republic_.
_WHY WIVES MAKE NO WILLS._
Men dying make their wills, why cannot wives?
Because wives have their wills during their lives.
R. HUGMAN (_circa_ 1628).
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 to _get_ through, 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_.
Tame 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 out
In three bright volumes flowing.
Some may jeer and jibe:
_We_ know where the shop is,
Ready to subscribe
For 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_, in GEORGE ELIOT's _Mr. 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 raise
Lest 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_.
I sent 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 you _personally_,
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 personal _to 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_.
A grave and quiet man was he,
Who loved his book and rod,--
So even ran his line of life
His 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 sight
Of Fashion's gilded wheels,
He ne'er had learned the art to "bob"
For anything but eels!
JOHN GODFREY SAXE, _Poems_.
A little knowledge of the world is a very
dangerous thing, especially in literature.
_Lord Montfort_, in LORD BEACONSFIELD's _Endymion_.
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 bears
From rude forward persons who give themselves airs,--
We know how some graceless young people were maul'd
For plaguing a Prophet, and calling him _bald_.
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_.