And look like a jintleman, sir;
Just tell me who that Moses was;
Now tell me, if you can, sir."
"Shure Moses was the Christian name
Of good King Pharaoh's daughter;
She was a milkmaid, and she took
A _profit_ from the water."
J. A. SIDEY, _Mistura Curiosa_.
A little incident Charlotte Cushman once related
to me. She said a man in the gallery of
a theatre made such a disturbance that the play
could not proceed. Cries of "Throw him over" arose
from all parts of the house, and the noise became furious.
All was tumultuous above until a sweet and gentle female
voice was heard in the pit, exclaiming, "No! I pray
you, don't throw him over! I beg of you, dear friends,
don't throw him over, but--_kill him where he is_."
J. T. FIELDS, _Yesterdays with Authors_.
With all his conscience and one eye askew,
So false, he partly took himself for true;
Whose pious talk, when most his heart was dry,
Made wet the crafty crowsfoot round his eye;
Who, never naming God except for gain,
So never took that useful name in vain;
Made Him his catspaw and the Cross his tool,
And Christ the bait to trap his dupe and fool;
Nor deeds of gift, but deeds of grace he forged,
And snake-like slimed his victim ere he gorged;
And oft at Bible meetings, o'er the rest
Arising, did his holy oily best,
Dropping the too rough H in Hell and Heaven,
To spread the Word by which himself had thriven.
ALFRED TENNYSON, _Sea Dreams_.
Please the eyes and the ears, they will introduce
you to the heart, and, nine times in ten,
the heart governs the understanding.
LORD CHESTERFIELD, _Letters to his Son_.
The cup with trembling hands he grasps,
Close to his thirsty lips he clasps,
Ringed with its pewter rim--he gasps.
The eddying floor beneath him crawls,
He clutches at the flying walls,
Then like a lump of lead he falls.
_The Shotover Papers._
On fait souvent du bien pour pouvoir impunément
faire du mal.
LA ROCHEFOUCAULD, _Réflexions_.
There's a joy without canker or cark,
There's a pleasure eternally new,
'Tis to gloat on the glaze and the mark
Of china that's ancient and blue;
Unchipp'd all the centuries through
It has pass'd, since the chime of it rang,
And they fashion'd it, figure and hue,
In the reign of the Emperor Hwang.
ANDREW LANG, _Ballades in Blue China_.
Ceremony.--All that is considered necessary by
many in religion and friendship.
HORACE SMITH, _The Tin Trumpet_.
Rogues meet their due when out they fall,
And each the other blames, sir,
The pot should not the kettle call
Opprobrious sorts of names, sir.
LORD NEAVES, _Songs and Verses_.
I have nothing to say again' Craig, on'y it is a
pity he couldna be hatched o'er again, an'
hatched different.
_Mrs. Poyser_, in GEORGE ELIOT's _Adam Bede_.
Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter,
Sermons and soda-water the day after.
LORD BYRON, _Don Juan_.
[Dr. Busby] was once invited, during a residence at
Deal, by an old Westminster--who, from being
a very idle, well-flogged boy, had, after a course
of distinguished service, been named to the command
of a fine frigate in the Downs--to visit him on board
his ship. The doctor accepted the invitation; and,
after he had got up the ship's side, the captain piped all
hands for punishment, and said to the astonished doctor,
"You d--d old scoundrel, I am delighted to have the
opportunity of paying you off at last. Here, boatswain,
give him three dozen."
GRONOW, _Recollections_.
_GOOD AND BAD LUCK._
Good Luck is the gayest of all gay girls;
Long in one place she will not stay:
Back from your brow she strokes the curls,
Kisses you quick and flies away.
But Madame Bad Luck soberly comes
And stays--no fancy has she for flitting--
Snatches of true-love songs she hums,
And sits by your bed, and brings her knitting.
JOHN HAY, _Poems_.
I wish nine-tenths of the pictures that have been
painted had never been preserved; it is such a
nuisance having to go and see them.
_Ellesmere_, in HELPS's _Friends in Council_.
Victor Hugo is an Egoist, or, to use a stronger
term, he is a Hugoist.
HEINRICH HEINE, _Musical Notes from Paris_.
_ON WOMEN AS UNIONISTS._
Among the men, what dire divisions rise--
For "Union" one, "No Union" t'other cries.
Shame on the sex that such dispute began--
Ladies are all for union--to a man!
ANON.
Si c'est un crime de l'aimer,
On n'en doit justement blâmer
Que les beautés qui sont en elle;
La faute en est au dieux
Qui la firent si belle,
Et non pas à mes yeux.
JEAN DE LINGENDES.
"Was not ---- very disagreeable?" "Why, he was
as disagreeable as the occasion would permit,"
Luttrell said.
SYDNEY SMITH, _Life and Letters_.
"I believe that nothing in the newspapers is
ever true," said Madame Phoebus.
"And that is why they are so popular,"
added Euphrosyne; "the taste of the age being so
decidedly for fiction."
LORD BEACONSFIELD, _Lothair_.
He that would shine, and petrify his tutor,
Should drink draught Allsopp in its "native pewter."
C. S. CALVERLEY, _Verses and Translations_.
Lauk, sir! Love's all in the fancy. One does
not eat it, nor drink it: and as for the rest--why,
it's a bother.
_Corporal Bunting_, in LYTTON's _Eugene Aram_.
"Mr. O----'s affairs turn out so sadly that he
cannot have the pleasure of waiting upon his
lordship at his agreeable house on Monday
next.--N.B. His wife is dead."
J. C. YOUNG, _Diary_.
Why, the Scotch tunes are just like a scolding,
nagging woman. They go on with the same
thing over and over again, and never come to a
reasonable end. Anybody 'ud think the Scotch tunes
had always been asking a question of somebody as deaf
as old Taft, and had never got an answer yet.
_Bartle Massey_, in GEORGE ELIOT's _Adam Bede_.
_SOUL OF LADY._
Tell me, in this night of snow,
Of happy Almack's, or the Row!
Say in what carriages what fair
Consume the ice in Berkeley Square;
Or who in shops, with doubtful eye,
Explore the silks they never buy;
And how the hair is dressed in town,
And what the shape of boot and gown?
_WINDBAG._
Snow-mantled shadow, would you know
The fashions of the world below?
Still the coiled chignon starward towers,
Still false back-hair falls down in showers;
But now all subtle souls revert
To the abbreviated skirt,
Whose velvet _paniers_ just denote
The gown, that else were petticoat.
Nor is such _naïve_ attire enough:
Elizabeth's archaic ruff
Rings every neck; besides, they rival,
With a High-Gothic-Hat-Revival,
Old Mother Hubbard, and renew
Arcadianly the buckled shoe,
To show, what's just a trifle shocking,
The dimple of a snowy stocking.
W. J. COURTHOPE, _The Paradise of Birds_.
Be virtuous, and you will be eccentric.
MARK TWAIN, _Choice Works_.
_DON'T WE?_
We're informed that, in Happy Japan,
Folks are free to believe what they can;
But if they come teaching,
And preaching and screeching,
They go off to gaol in a van.
Don't you wish _this_ was Happy Japan?
SHIRLEY BROOKS, _Wit and Humour_.
I hope I appreciate the value of children. We
should soon come to nothing without them.
Without them the common school would languish.
But the problem is, what to do with them in a
garden. For they are not good to eat, and there is a law
against making away with them. The law is not very
well enforced, it is true; for people do thin them out
with constant dosing, paregoric, and soothing-syrups, and
scanty clothing. But I, for one, feel it would not be
right, aside from the law, to take the life, even of the
smallest child, for the sake of a little fruit, more or less,
in the garden. I may be wrong; but these are my sentiments,
and I am not ashamed of them.
C. D. WARNER, _My Summer in a Garden_.
_ON DR. TRAPP'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL._
Mind but thy preaching, Trapp; translate no further:
Is it not written, "Thou shall do no murder"?
_The Poetical Farrago_ (1794).
Shortly before his death, being visited by a
clergyman whose features as well as language
were more lugubrious than consoling, Hood
looked up at him compassionately, and said, "My dear
sir! I'm afraid your religion doesn't agree with you."
J. R. PLANCHÉ, _Recollections_.
_ON GRAPES AND GRIPES._
In Spain, that land of monks and apes,
The thing called wine doth come from grapes;
But, on the noble river Rhine,
The thing called gripes doth come from wine.
S. T. COLERIDGE, _apud_ J. C. YOUNG.
Of Diggle, Barham used to tell many absurd stories.
The most amusing of his practical jokes was one
in which Barham had a share. The two boys
having, in the course of one of their walks, discovered a
Quakers' meeting-house, forthwith procured a penny tart
of a neighbouring pastry-cook; furnished with this,
Diggle marched boldly into the building, and, holding up
the delicacy in the midst of the grave assembly, said with
perfect solemnity, "Whoever speaks first shall have this
pie." "Friend, go thy way," commenced a drab-coloured
gentleman, rising, "go thy way, and----" "The pie's
yours, sir!" exclaimed Master Diggle, politely, and
placing it before the astounded speaker, hastily effected
his escape.
R. H. D. BARHAM, _Life of Barham_.
Talking of some poor relations who had been
recipients of his bounty for years, Compton
said, "Yes, sir, the whole tribe of them leaned
on me for years;" and then added, in his own peculiar
manner, "Forty years long was I grieved with this generation."
_Memoir of Henry Compton._
_THE ORANGE._
It ripen'd by the river banks,
Where, mask and moonlight aiding,
Dons Blas and Juan play their pranks,
Dark Donnas serenading.
By Moorish damsel it was pluck'd,
Beneath the golden day there;
By swain 'twas then in London suck'd--
Who flung the peel away there.
He could not know in Pimlico,
As little she in Seville,
That _I_ should reel upon that peel,
And--wish them at the devil.
FREDERICK LOCKER, _London Lyrics_.
Kenny said that Anthony Pasquin (who was a
very dirty fellow) "died of a cold caught by
washing his face."
THOMAS MOORE, _Diary_.
_ON THE PRINCE REGENT'S ILLNESS._
The Regent, sir, is taken ill;
And all depends on Halford's skill;
"Pray what," inquired the sage physician,
"Has brought him to this sad condition?"
When Bloomfield ventured to pronounce,
"A little too much Cherry Bounce,"
The Regent, hearing what was said,
Raised from his couch his aching head,
And cried, "No, Halford, 'tis not so!
_Cure us, O_ doctor,--_Curaçoa!_"
H. LUTTRELL, _apud_ BARHAM.
Brigham Young has two hundred wives. He
loves not wisely, but two hundred well. He's
dreadfully married. He's the most married man
I ever saw in my life. He says that all he wants now is
to live in peace for the remainder of his days, and have
his dying pillow soothed by the loving hands of his
family. Well, that's all right, I suppose; but if all his
family soothe his dying pillow, he'll have to go out-doors
to die.
C. F. BROWNE, _Artemus Ward's Lecture_.
And I said, "What is written, sweet sister,
At the opposite end of the room?"
She sobbed, as she answered, "All liquors
Must be paid for ere leaving the room."
BRET HARTE, _Complete Works_.
Be wiser than other people if you can, but do not
tell them so.
LORD CHESTERFIELD, _Letters to his Son_.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "It _would_ be grand!"
"If seven maids, with seven mops,
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it;" said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.
LEWIS CARROLL, _Through the Looking-Glass_.
We easily convert our own vices into other people's
virtues, the virtues of others into vices.
W. HAZLITT, _Characteristics_.
You'd better keep clear of love-letters,
Or write them with caution and care;
In faith, they may fasten your fetters,
If wearing a conjugal air.
LORD NEAVES, _Songs and Verses_.
Against stupidity the gods themselves combat in
vain.
HEINRICH HEINE, _Art Notes from Paris_.
_ON LOVE AND MARRIAGE._
'Tis highly rational, we can't dispute,
That Love, being naked, should promote a suit;
But doth not oddity to him attach
Whose fire's so oft extinguished by a match?
R. GARNETT, _Idylls and Epigrams_.
Lord Shelburne could say the most provoking
things, and yet appear unconscious of
their being so. In one of his speeches, alluding
to Lord Carlisle, he said, "The noble lord has written
a comedy." "No, a tragedy." "Oh, I beg pardon, I
thought it was a comedy."
ROGERS, _Table Talk_.
There's nought, no doubt, so much the spirit calms
As rum and true religion.
LORD BYRON, _Don Juan_.
She never speaks to any one, which is of course a
great advantage to any one.
LADY ASHBURTON, _apud_ LORD HOUGHTON.
I'm not denyin' the women are foolish: God Almighty
made 'em to match the men.
_Mrs. Poyser_, in GEORGE ELIOT's _Adam Bede_.
"You didn't know I drew? I learnt at school."
"Perhaps you only learnt to draw your sword?"
"Why, that I can, of course--and also corks--
And covers--haw! haw! haw! But what I mean,
Fortification--haw!--in Indian ink,
That sort of thing--and though I draw it mild,
Yet that--haw! haw!--that may be called my _forte_."
"Oh fie! for shame! where do you think you'll go
For making such a heap of foolish puns?"
"Why, to the Punjaub, I should think--haw! haw!
That sort of job, you know, would suit me best."
C. J. CAYLEY, _Las Alforgas_.
Tout le monde se plaint de sa mémoire, et
personne ne se plaint de son jugement.
LA ROCHEFOUCAULD, _Réflexions_.
_ON THE HOUSE OF COMMONS_.
When lately Pym descended into Hell,
Ere he the cups of Lethè did carouse,
What place that was, he callèd loud to tell;
To whom a Devil--"This is the Lower House."
WILLIAM DRUMMOND (1585-1649).
The working-man is a noble creature--when he is
quite sober.
_Alexis_, in W. S. GILBERT's _Sorcerer_.
_DEFENDANT'S SONG._
When first my old, old love I knew,
My bosom swelled with joy;
My riches at her feet I threw,--
I was a love-sick boy!
No terms seemed too extravagant
Upon her to employ--
I used to mope, and sigh, and pant,
Just like a love-sick boy!
But joy incessant palls the sense,
And love, unchanged, will cloy,
And she became a bore intense
Unto her love-sick boy!
With fitful glimmer burnt my flame,
And I grew cold and coy,
At last, one morning, I became
Another's love-sick boy!
W. S. GILBERT, _Trial by Jury_.
Dining one day where the host became exceedingly
excited and angry at not being able to
find any stuffing in a roasted leg of pork, Poole
quietly suggested, "Perhaps it is in the other leg?"
J. R. PLANCHÉ, _Recollections_.
In 1848, Feargus O'Connor was charged in the
House with being a republican. He denied it,
and said he did not care whether the Queen or
the Devil was on the throne. Peel replied: "When the
honourable gentleman sees the sovereign of his choice on
the throne of these realms, I hope he'll enjoy, and I'm
sure he'll deserve, the confidence of the Crown."
ABRAHAM HAYWARD, _Essays_.
I loiter down by thorp and town;
For any job I'm willing;
Take here and there a dusty brown,
And here and there a shilling.
I deal in every ware in turn,
I've rings for buddin' Sally,
That sparkle like those eyes of her'n;
I've liquor for the valet.
The things I've done 'neath moon and stars
Have got me into messes;
I've seen the sky through prison bars,
I've torn up prison dresses.
But out again I come, and show
My face, nor care a stiver;
For trades are brisk and trades are slow,
But mine goes on for ever.
C. S. CALVERLEY, _Fly Leaves_.
They may talk of the devotion of the sex, but the
most faithful attachment in life is that of a
woman in love--with herself.
_Damas_, in LORD LYTTON's _Lady of Lyons_.
They may talk as they please about what they call pelf,
And how one ought never to think of one's self,
And how pleasures of thought surpass eating and drinking--
My pleasure of thought is the pleasure of thinking
How pleasant it is to have money, heigh ho!
How pleasant it is to have money!
_Spirit_, in A. H. CLOUGH's _Dipsychus_.
Women are generally consistent in their insincerity,
if in nothing else.
ANNA C. STEELE.
La plus perdue de toutes les journées est celle où
l'on n'a pas ri.
CHAMFORT, _Maximes_.
Oh, how can a modest young man
E'er hope for the smallest progression--
The profession's already so full
Of lawyers so full of profession?
JOHN GODFREY SAXE, _Poems_.
I was speaking [to Charles Lamb] of my first brief,
when he asked, "Did you not exclaim--
'Thou great first cause, least understood'?"
CRABB ROBINSON, _Diary_.
Eye-glass--a toy which enables a coxcomb to
see others, and others to see that he is a
coxcomb.
HORACE SMITH, _The Tin Trumpet_.
Some brag of telegraphs and rails,
Coals, steam, and gas, and a' that,
But rattling mails and cotton bales
Ne'er made a man for a' that;
For a' that, and a' that,
Their figures, facts, and a' that,
The first of facts is Thought, and what
High Thought begets, for a' that!
J. S. BLACKIE, _Musa Burschicosa_.
Virginia city--the wild young metropolis of the
new Silver State. Fortunes are made there in
a day. There are instances on record of young
men going to this place without a shilling--poor and
friendless--yet by energy, intelligence, and a careful
disregard to business, they have been enabled to leave
there, owing hundreds of pounds.
C. F. BROWNE, _Artemus Ward's Lecture_.
Nothing is accounted so proper in England as
property.
_Guesses at Truth._
As the husband is, the wife is,--he is stomach-plagued and old;
And his curry soups will make thy cheek the colour of his gold.
When his feeble love is sated, he will hold thee surely then
Something lower than his hookah,--something less than his cayenne.
What is this? His eyes are pinky. Was't the claret? Oh, no, no--
Bless your soul! it was the salmon--salmon always makes him so.
_Bon Gaultier Ballads._
A clergyman had commenced an able discourse,
when one of the hearers exclaimed,
"That's Tillotson!" This was allowed to pass;
but very soon another exclamation followed, "That's
Paley." The preacher then addressed the disturber: "I
tell you, sir, if there is to be a repetition of such conduct,
I shall call on the churchwarden to have you removed
from the church." "That's your own," was the ready
reply.
MARK BOYD, _Reminiscences_.
College mostly makes people like bladders--just
good for nothing but t' hold the stuff as is poured
into 'em.
_Bartle Massey_, in GEORGE ELIOT's _Adam Bede_.
Werther had a love for Charlotte
Such as words could never utter;
Would you know how first he met her?
She was cutting bread and butter.
So he sighed and pined and ogled,
And his passion boiled and bubbled,
Till he blew his silly brains out,
And no more was by it troubled.
Charlotte, having seen his body
Borne before her on a shutter,
Like a well-conducted person,
Went on cutting bread and butter.
W. M. THACKERAY.
Perhaps the best illustration I can give of
[Bagehot's] more sardonic humour, was his
remark to a friend who had a church on the
grounds near his house:--"Ah, you've got the church
in the grounds! I like that. It's well the tenants
shouldn't be _quite_ sure that the landlord's power stops
with this world."
R. H. HUTTON, _Memoir of W. Bagehot_.
_ON WIVES._
All wives are bad,--yet two blest hours they give,
When first they wed, and when they cease to live.
PALLADAS, trans. by J. H. MERIVALE.
"Yes, my dear curate," said the Professor, "what
I am enjoying is the champagne that you
drink, and what you are enjoying is the champagne
that I drink. This is altruism; this is benevolence;
this is the sublime outcome of enlightened
modern thought. The pleasures of the table, in themselves,
are low and beastly ones; but if we each of us
are only glad because the others are enjoying them, they
become holy and glorious beyond description."
"They do," cried the curate rapturously, "indeed they
do. I will drink another bottle for your sake."
W. H. MALLOCK, _The New Paul and Virginia_.
Some d--d people have come in, and I must stop.
By d--d, I mean deuced.
LAMB to WORDSWORTH.
Ours is so far-advanced an age!
Sensation-tales, a classic stage,
Commodious villas!
We boast high art, an Albert Hall,
Australian meats, and men who call
Their sires gorillas!
AUSTIN DOBSON, _Vignettes in Rhyme_.
It being asked at Paris whom they would have as
godfather for Rothschild's baby--"Talleyrand,"
said a Frenchman. "Pourquoi, monsieur?"
"Parcequ'il est le moins chrétien possible."
B. R. HAYDON, _Diary_.
Before the blast are driven the flying clouds--
(And I should like to blow a cloud as well,)
The vapours wrap the mountain-tops in shrouds--
(I left my mild cheroots at the hotel.)
Dotting the glassy surface of the stream,
(Oh, here's a cigarette--my mind's at ease.)
The boats move silently, as in a dream--
(Confound it! where on earth are my fusees?)
H. S. LEIGH, _Carols of Cockayne_.
Emile de Girardin, the famous political writer, a
natural son of Alexandre de Girardin, becoming
celebrated, Montrond said to his father,
"Dépêchez-vous de le reconnaître, ou bientôt il ne
vous reconnaîtra pas."
GRONOW, _Recollections_.
Marriage from love, like vinegar from wine--
A sad, sour, sober beverage,--by time
Is sharpen'd from its high celestial flavour,
Down to a very homely household savour.
LORD BYRON, _Don Juan_.
Lettuce is like conversation; it must be fresh,
and crisp, so sparkling that you scarcely notice
the bitter in it. Lettuce, like conversation,
requires a good deal of oil, to avoid friction, and
keep the company smooth; a pinch of attic salt; a
dash of pepper; a quantity of mustard and vinegar, by
all means, but so mixed that you will notice no sharp
contrasts; and a trifle of sugar.
C. D. WARNER, _My Summer in a Garden_.
_MARTIAL IN LONDON._
Exquisite wine and comestibles
From Slater, and Fortnum and Mason;
Billiards, écarté, and chess-tables;
Water in vast marble basin;
Luminous books (not voluminous)
To read under beech-trees cacuminous;
One friend, who is fond of a distich,
And doesn't get too syllogistic;
A valet who knows the complete art
Of service--a maiden, his sweetheart;--
Give me these, in some rural pavilion,
And I'll envy no Rothschild his million.
MORTIMER COLLINS, in _The Owl_.
He was much too disliked not to be sought after.
Whatever is once notorious, even for being
disagreeable, is sure to be coveted.
LORD LYTTON's _Pelham_.
_TO GIBBS, CONCERNING HIS POEMS._
You ask me if I think your poems good;
If I could praise your poems, Gibbs,--I would.
EGERTON WEBBE, _apud_ LEIGH HUNT.
What I admire in the order to which you belong
[the aristocracy], is that they do live in the air,
that they excel in athletic sports; that they can
only speak one language; and that they never read.
This is not a complete education, but it is the highest
education since the Greek.
_Phoebus_, in LORD BEACONSFIELD's _Lothair_.
_RELIABLE._
(A MILD PROTEST.)
Shut up a party who uses "Reliable"
When he means "Trustworthy;" 'tis undeniable
That his excuses are flimsy and friable,
And his conceptions of grammar most pliable.
No doubt he'd pronounce this line's last word "enviable:"
Invent, for bad fish (which he'd sell) the word "criable,"
Say that his faded silk hat might be dyeable,
And accent French vilely--allude to _le diable_.
If his name's William, 'twould be most enj'yable
To see Mr. Calcraft preparing to tie a Bill.
Now let Punch hope he has stamped out "Reliable."
SHIRLEY BROOKS, _Wit and Humour_.
"I see," said my clerical neighbour, addressing
myself, "you stick to port." "Yes," I said,
"and so am safe from being half-seas over."
W. H. HARRISON, _Reminiscences_.
All tradesmen cry up their own wares:
In this they agree well together:
The Mason by stone and lime swears;
The Tanner is always for leather;
The Smith still for iron would go;
The Schoolmaster stands up for teaching;
And the Parson would have you to know
There's nothing on earth like his preaching.
LORD NEAVES, _Songs and Verses_.
Matrimony--the high sea for which no compass
has yet been invented.
HEINRICH HEINE, _Musical Notes from Paris_.
O daughters! make your markets while you can,
For bloom soon groweth as the water wan;
The early bird picks up the marrying man.
_Once a Week._
He was the most even-tempered man I ever knew:
he was always cross.
MRS. JENKINS, _Within an Ace_.
I have a horse--a ryghte good horse--
Ne doe I envie those
Who scour ye plaine in headie course,
Tyll soddaine on theyre nose
They lyghte wyth unexpected force--
It ys--a horse of clothes.