The following odd story is related respecting a monument in a chapel,
adjoining _Stene_, a fine family seat in the north:--The sculptor, in that
vile taste which seems to have originated in an unhappy design of making
every thing connected with the grave revolting to our feelings, had
ornamented this monument with "a very ghastly, grinning alabaster skull;"
and the bishop one day expressed a wish to his domestic chaplain, Dr. Grey,
that it had not been placed there. Grey, upon this, sent to Banbury for
the sculptor, and consulted with him whether it was not possible to
convert it into a soothing, instead of a painful object. After some
consideration, the artist declared that the only thing into which he could
possibly convert it was--a bunch of grapes! and accordingly, at this day,
a bunch of grapes may be seen upon the monument; for the chapel, which for
a time had been abandoned to the rooks and daws who built their nests
among the monuments, has been repaired, and is now united to the rectory
of Hinton.
* * * * *
It is easier to induce people to follow than to set an example--however
good it may be both for themselves and others, most men have a silly
squeamishness about proposing an adjournment from the dinner table. The
host, fearing that his guest may take it for a token that he loves his
wine better than his friends, is obliged to feign an unwillingness to
leave the bottle, and, as Sponge says--"In good truth, 'tis impossible,
nay, I say it is impudent, to contradict any gentleman at his own table;
the president is always the wisest man in the party."
"Be of our patron's mind, whate'er he says;
Sleep very much, think little, and talk less;
Mind neither good nor bad, nor right nor wrong,
But eat your pudding, fool, and hold your tongue."