Part 8

Garrick was walking one day upon the Boulevards at Paris with the famous Preville, the first comic actor of the French theatre. To amuse themselves, and some of their friends, they imitated two drunken men so well, that the company scampered away to avoid them; when Garrick, in the midst of their career, in a loud whisper, said to his companion, _Preville, voire pied droit n’est pas assez ivre; mettez y la moindre idée de plus_; i.e., “Preville, your right foot is not drunk enough; throw the least shade more into it.”

GENERAL BOYD.

When General Boyd was Governor of Gibraltar, he wrote an order to a Mr. Brown, his agent in London, for provisions for the garrison, but forgot to insert what he wanted for his own private stores, until the letter was sealed up, and the vessel by which it was to be sent on the point of sailing, he therefore wrote on the outside, “_Brown, Beef, Boyd_.” His agent returned his provision, with an epistle equally laconic, written immediately under the direction, “_Boyd, Beef, Brown_.”

CONSTITUTIONAL COLD.

“When I have a cold in my head,” said a gentleman in company, “I am always remarkably _dull and stupid_.” “You are much to be pitied then, sir,” replied another, “for really it is a complaint that troubles you _very often_.”

HYPERBOLICAL POLITENESS.

The witty and licentious Earl of Rochester meeting with the great Isaac Barrow in the Park, told his companions that he would have some fun with the rusty old pot. Accordingly he went up with great gravity, and, taking off his hat, made the doctor a profound bow, saying, “Doctor, I am yours to my shoe tie.” The doctor, seeing his drift, immediately pulled off his beaver, and returned the bow with, “My lord, I am yours to the ground.” Rochester followed up his salutation by a deeper bow, saying, “Doctor, I am yours to the centre.” Barrow, with a very low obeisance, replied, “My lord, I am yours to the antipodes.” His lordship, nearly gravelled, exclaimed, “Doctor, I am yours to the lowest pit of hell.” “There, my lord,” said Barrow sarcastically, “I leave you,” and walked off.

PATIENCE.

A Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, on the eve of his departure from the University, preached at St. Mary’s upon these words, _Have patience with me, and I will pay you all_; and, owing a great sum of money in the town, enlarged mightily on the first part of the text, _Have patience, &c_. “Now,” says he, “I should come to the second part, _and I will pay you all_; but having prest too long on your patience, I must leave that to the next opportunity; so pray have patience with me!”

NO BAD EXCHANGE.

“How are you this morning,” said Fawcett to Cooke. “Not at all myself,” says the tragedian. “Then, I congratulate you,” replied Fawcett; “for be whoever else you will, you will be a gainer by the bargain.”

EXTREME UNCTION.

As the late Earl of Chesterfield and Lord Petre were once stepping out of a carriage, a great lamp, oil and all, fell from the centre of an iron arch before the house, missing Lord Petre by about half-an-inch. “Oh, my lord,” said he, “I was near being gone!” “Why, yes,” replied the Earl coolly, “but there would certainly have been one comfort attending the accident, since you must infallibly have received extreme unction before you went.”

RICH AND THE HACKNEY COACHMAN.

As Rich, the harlequin, was one evening returning home from the playhouse in a hackney coach, he ordered the coachman to drive him to the Sun, then a famous tavern in Clare Market. Just as the coach passed one of the windows of the tavern, Rich, who perceived it to be open, dexterously threw himself out of the coach-window into the room. The coachman, who saw nothing of this transaction, drew up, descended from his box, opened the coach door, and let down the step; then, taking off his hat, he waited for some time, expecting his fare to alight; but at length, looking into the coach, and seeing it empty, he bestowed a few hearty curses on the rascal who had bilked him, remounted his box, turned about, and was driving back to the stand; when Rich, who had watched his opportunity, threw himself into the coach, looked out, asked the fellow where the devil he was driving, and desired him to turn again. The coachman, almost petrified with fear, instantly obeyed, and once more drew up to the door of the tavern. Rich now got out; and, after reproaching the fellow with stupidity, tendered him his money. “No, God bless your honour,” said the coachman, “my master has ordered me to take no money to-night.” “Pshaw!” said Rich, “your master’s a fool; here’s a shilling for yourself.” “No, no,” said the coachman, who by that time had remounted his box, “that won’t do; I know you too well, for all your shoes--and so, Mr. Devil, for once you’re outwitted!”

NEAREST ROAD TO HELL.

The Earl of Rochester once endeavoured to throw off his wit upon a young academic at Oxford, by thus accosting him:--

“Pray, Mr. Student, can you tell, Which is the nearest way to Hell?”

The other instantly retorted,--

“Some say Woodstock, I say nay, For Rochester’s the nearest way.”

FLYING COLOURS.

Two gentlemen were at a coffee-house, when the discourse fell upon Sir Joshua Reynold’s painting; one of them said, that “his tints were admirable, but the colours flew.” It happened, unluckily, that Sir Joshua was in the next stall, and he, taking up his hat, accosted them thus, with a low bow: “Gentlemen, I return you many thanks for bringing me off with _flying_ colours.”

YOU RIDE, I SEE.

A gentleman entered a box at the playhouse in his boots and spurs, and said that he came to town on purpose to see Orpheus; when, unluckily, his spurs got entangled in a lady’s petticoat, she replied, “and _Eu-rid-i-ce_.”

PHYSICIAN AND PATIENT.

A gentleman, calling upon a friend who was attended by a physician from the west end of the town, inquired of the doctor, on one of his visits, if he did not find it inconvenient to attend his friend from such a distance? “Not at all, sir,” replied the doctor, “for, having another patient in the adjoining street, I can kill two birds with one stone.” “Can you so?” replied the sick man; “then you are two good a shot for me:” and dismissed him.

EXTEMPORE LINES BY LORD CHESTERFIELD.

Lord Chesterfield, on viewing Lady M----, a reputed Jacobite, adorned with Orange ribands at the anniversary ball at Dublin, in memory of King William, thus addressed her, extempore:--

“Thou little Tory, where’s the jest To wear those ribbons in thy breast; When that breast, betraying shows The whiteness of the rebel rose?”

BON MOT OF NELSON.

Lord Nelson was as decided and animated in his intercourse with his friends as with the enemies of his country. Captain Berry had served with him in the unfortunate affair of Teneriffe; and, on their return to England, accompanied him to St James’s. The King, with his accustomed suavity, lamented the gallant admiral’s wounds. “You have lost your right arm,” observed his Majesty. “But not my right hand,” replied the other, “as I have the honour of presenting Captain Berry to your Majesty.”

ANECDOTE OF QUIN.

Dining one day at a party in Bath, Quin uttered something which caused a general murmur of delight. A nobleman present, who was not illustrious for the brilliancy of his ideas, exclaimed, “What a pity ’tis, Quin, my boy, that a clever fellow like you should be a player.” Quin fixed and flashed his eye upon the person, with this reply, “What would your lordship have me be?--a Lord!”

I MYSELF AM CARLINI.

An unfortunate man, miserably afflicted with a hypochondriacal complaint, consulted M. Tronchin, the physician, “You want amusement, sir,” said Tronchin to him; “go and see Carlini:[F] he will make you laugh, and will do you more good, than any thing I can prescribe for you.” “Alas, sir,” said the patient, “_I myself am Carlini_.”

ALL LADIES IN TIME.

In Queen Anne’s reign, the Lord B---- married three wives, who were all his servants. A beggar woman, meeting him one day in the street, made him a very low courtesy. “Ah! God Almighty bless you,” said she, “and send you a long life! if you do but live long enough, we shall all be ladies in time.”

HONESTY TOO DEAR.

A magistrate remonstrating with a culprit of the poor class, who had been frequently before him, asked him why he did not contrive to pursue an honest course? The other, who had got some gin under his girdle, replied, “Upon my soul, please your worship, I can’t _afford_ to be honest.”

LOVE OF COUNTRY.

George II., when riding through Brentford in dirty weather, was accustomed to say, “I do love this place, it is so like Germany.”

GRATITUDE.

A grotesque instance of the sudden power of gratitude is shewn in a modern Kentish anecdote perfectly well attested. A person of Whitestable, named Patten, was well known in his own neighbourhood as a man of great oddity, great humour, and equally great extravagance. Once standing in need of a new wig, his old one defying all farther assistance of art, he went over to Canterbury, and applied to a barber, young in the business, to make him one. The tradesman, who was just going to dinner, begged the honour of his new customer’s company at his meal, to which Patten most readily consented. After dinner, a large bowl of punch was produced, and the happy guest, with equal readiness, joined in its demolition. When it was out, the barber was proceeding to business, and began to handle his measure, when Mr. Patten desired him to desist, saying, he should not make his wig. “Why not!” exclaimed the honest host; “have I done any thing to offend you, sir?” “Not in the least,” replied the guest; “I find you are a very honest, good-natured fellow; so I will take somebody else in. Had you made it, you would never have been paid for it.”

YORKSHIRE WIT.

A Yorkshire boy went into a public-house, where a gentleman was eating eggs. The boy looked extremely hard at him for some time, and then said, “Will you be good enough to give me a little salt, sir?” “Ay, certainly boy; but why do you want salt?” “Perhaps, sir,” says he, “you’ll ask me to eat an egg presently, and I should like to be ready.” “What country are you from, my lad?” “Yorkshire, sir.” “I thought so--there, take an egg.” “I thank you, sir,” said the boy. “Well,” added the gentleman, “they are all great horse stealers in your country, are they not?” “Yes,” rejoins the boy, “my father (though an honest man) would mind no more stealing of a horse than I would drinking your glass of ale--Your health, sir,” added he, and drank it up. “That will do,” says the gentleman; “I see you’re Yorkshire.”

TONSORIAL WIT.

An eccentric barber opened a shop under the walls of the King’s Bench prison. The windows being broken when he entered it, he mended them with paper, on which appeared “Shave for a penny,” with the usual invitation to customers; and over the door was scrawled these lines:

“Here lives Jemmy Wright, Shaves as well as any man in England--almost--not quite.”

Foote (who loved any thing eccentric) saw these inscriptions, and hoping to extract some wit from the author, whom he justly concluded to be an odd character, he pulled off his hat, and thrusting his head through a paper pane into the shop, called out “Is Jemmy Wright at home?” The barber immediately forced his own head through another pane into the street, and replied, “No, sir, he has just popt out.” Foote laughed heartily, and gave the man a guinea.

FORCE AND PLIABILITY OF CONSCIENCE.

A tailor, who was dangerously ill, had a remarkable dream. He saw, fluttering in the air, a piece of cloth of prodigious length, composed of all the cabbage he had made, of a variety of colours. The Angel of Death held this piece of patchwork in one of his hands, and with the other gave the tailor several strokes with a piece of iron. The tailor, awakening in a fright, made a vow, that, if he recovered, he would cabbage no more. He soon recovered. As he was diffident in himself, he ordered one of his apprentices to put him in mind of his dream whenever he cut out a suit of clothes. The tailor was for some time obedient to the intimations given him by his apprentice; but a nobleman having sent for him to make a coat out of a very rich stuff, his virtue could not resist the temptation. His apprentice put him in mind of his dream, but to no purpose. “I am tired with your talk about the dream,” says the tailor; “there was nothing like this in the whole piece of patchwork I saw in my dream.”

DISABILITY FROM STAMMERING.

A soldier, about to be sent on an expedition, said to the officer directing the drafts, “Sir, I cannot go, because I--I--stutter.” “Stutter!” says the officer, “you don’t go to talk, but to fight.” “Ay, but they’ll p-p-put me on g-g-guard, and a man may go ha-ha-half a mile before I can say, Wh-wh-who goes there?” “Oh, that is no objection, for there will be another sentry placed along with you, and he can challenge if you can fire.” “Well, b-b-but I may be taken and run through the g-g-guts before I can cry Qu-qu-quarter!”

KINDNESS OF A CARPENTER.

A carpenter having neglected to make a gibbet (which was ordered by the executioner), on the ground that he had not been paid for the last that he had erected, gave so much offence, that the next time the judge came to the circuit he was sent for. “Fellow (said the judge, in a stern tone), how came you to neglect making the gibbet that was ordered on my account?” “I humbly beg your pardon,” said the carpenter, “had I known it had been for your lordship, it should have been done immediately.”

ONE AT A TIME, GENTLEMEN.

One Sunday evening, when the weather was extremely hot, the windows of a parish church in the diocese of Gloucester were set open to admit more air, while the congregation was assembled for divine service. Just as the clergyman was beginning his weekly discourse (who, by the by, was not much celebrated for his oratorical powers), a jack-ass, which had been grazing in the church-yard, popped his head in at the window, and began braying with all his might, as if in opposition to the reverend preacher. On this a wag present immediately got up from his seat, and with great gravity of countenance exclaimed,--“One at a time, gentlemen, if you please!” The whole congregation set up a loud laugh, when the jack-ass took fright, and gave up the contest, though, from the clergyman’s chagrin and confusion, he would probably not have been the worst orator.

WINE SHARPENS THE WIT.

A gentleman went to see his son at Westminster school, under the great Dr. Busby. When they were in discourse, over a bottle of wine, the doctor sent for the boy. “Come,” says he, “young man, as your father is here, take a glass of wine;” and quoted this Latin sentence,--_Paucum vini acuit ingenium_ (a little wine sharpens the wit.) The lad replied, “_Sed plus vini, plus ingenii!_” (the more wine, the more wit!) “Hold, young man,” replied the doctor, “though you argue on mathematical principles, you shall have but one glass!”

WEST INDIAN AND NEGRO.

A West Indian, who had a remarkably _fiery nose_, having fallen asleep in his chair, a negro boy, who was in waiting, observed a mosquito hovering round his face. Quashi eyed the insect very attentively; at last he saw him alight on his master’s nose, and immediately fly off. “Ah,” exclaimed the negro, “me d--n glad see you burn your foot!”

AN OUTLINE.

When the Duke de Choiseul, who was a remarkably meagre-looking man, came to London for the purpose of negotiating a peace, Charles Townshend, being asked whether the French government had sent the preliminaries of a treaty, answered, “He did not know, but they had sent the outline of an ambassador.”

BACON.

A malefactor of the name of Hogg, under sentence of death, petitioned Lord Chancellor Bacon for a reprieve, claiming a relationship. His lordship said, he could not possibly be _bacon_ till he had first been _hung_.

DR. BENTLEY.

When the great Bentley, afterwards so distinguished, was examined for deacon’s orders, he expected that the bishop would himself examine him; and his displeasure at what he considered neglect he vented in such answers as the following:--

_Chaplain._ Quid est fides?

_Bentley._ Quod non vides.

_C._ Quid est spes?

_B._ Quid non habes.

_C._ Quid est charitas?

_B._ Maxima raritas.

This is said to have been enough to satisfy the chaplain, who took the rhymer to the bishop.

STRIKING LIKENESS.

Some years ago, a then itinerant portrait painter, whose reputation has since risen much above the point it at that time occupied, being employed to delineate the features of a musician of some eminence, who had taken up his temporary quarters at a watering place, the son of harmony was dissatisfied with the resemblance, and expressed his disapprobation rather strongly. “Who is that like, my dear?” asked the mortified artist of a fine little boy, the eldest hope of his employer. “Papa!” said the child. “So it is, my darling. You see, sir, your son is a better judge of a likeness than yourself. And where is it like papa, my dear?” “It’s very like papa _about the fiddle_!” was the answer. It is unnecessary to add, that no more questions were asked of the juvenile connoisseur.

ENDS OF JUSTICE.

It is strange to observe how blind the common people are, in general, to the ends of public justice. They seem to have almost all taken their notions on this subject from the Judaic law, which awarded life for life, and one article to be substituted for another; and punishment is by them rather looked upon as a revenge to gratify the offended person, or his manes, than as preventative of future crimes. In Scotland, for instance, if a man is to be hanged for stealing the sheep, or breaking the shop, of another, the aggrieved individual is sometimes found to express what he will perhaps consider a graceful regret for the fate of the culprit, as if it were only to avenge his petty quarrel, and not to vindicate the cause of offended justice, that the law was to take its course. This was well reproved, on one occasion, by Justice Burnet. A fellow, whom that judge was about to condemn for horse-stealing, said it surely was a hard thing to be hanged for stealing a horse. “You are not to be hanged, friend,” replied the Justice, “for stealing a horse, but that horses may not be stolen.”

LORD BOLINGBROKE.

The famous Lord Bolingbroke, being at Aix-la-chapelle, during the treaty of peace at that place (at which time his attainder was taken off), was asked by an impertinent Frenchman, whether he came there in any public character. “No, sir,” replied his Lordship, “I come like a French minister, with no character at all.”

WHAT’S IN A NAME.

In a party of ladies, on it being reported that a Captain Silk had arrived in town, they exclaimed, with one exception, “What a name for a soldier!” “The fittest name in the world,” rejoined a witty female; “for _silk_ never can be _worsted_!”

GREAT ENCOURAGEMENT.

A gentleman about to join his regiment, stationed in the West Indies, was making some anxious inquiries of a brother officer, who had returned, after serving several years in that climate, concerning the best means of preserving health; to which the other replied, “During our passage out, many serious discussions took place about the mode of living best calculated to preserve health in a climate, with the fatal effects of which on European constitutions every one is so well acquainted. Some determined to be temperate, and drink nothing but water; others, not to deviate from their usual manner of living. Not to interrupt each other’s plans, we agreed to separate into two distinct messes, which, from their different modes of living, very soon obtained the distinctive appellations of the sober and the drunken club.” “Well,” said the other gentleman, with some anxiety, “and what was the result?” “Why, truly, not very satisfactory: we buried all the members of the sober club in the course of a few months, and I am the only survivor of the drunken.”

SIR GEORGE ROOKE.

The famous Sir George Rooke, when he was a captain of marines, was quartered at a village where he buried a good many of his men. At length, the parson refused to perform the ceremony of their interment any more, unless he was paid for it; which being told to Captain Rooke, he ordered six of his company to carry the corpse of the soldier then dead, and lay him upon the parson’s table. This so embarrassed the priest, that he sent the captain word, “If he would fetch the man away, he would bury him and all his company for nothing.”

NEW READING IN HORACE.

Sir Robert Walpole, at the close of his administration, was sitting one evening with some intimate friends, to whom he was complaining of the vanities and vexations of office, adding, from the second epistle of the second book of Horace,

“Lusisti satis, edisti, atque bibisti; Tempus abire tibi est.”

“Pray, Sir Robert,” says one of his friends, “is that good Latin?” “Why, I think so--what objections have you to it?” “Why,” says the other drily, “I did not know but that the word might be _bribe_-isti in YOUR HORACE.”

PUNNING COMPETITION.

George IV., when Prince of Wales, and Charles Fox, one day enjoying a ride in the neighbourhood of Brighton, laid bets which of them should make the _worst_ pun on the first subjects they met. Immediately after, meeting a man carrying a dead _hare_ over his shoulder, Fox (who was to make the first essay of his wit) accosted him thus: “Friend, is that your own _hare_, or a _wig_?” Riding a little farther on, they came up with two men, one of whom held a snuff-box in his hand. “So, friend,” said the Prince, “I see you are a snuffer.” “Yes, sir,” replied the man. “And are _you_ a snuffer also?” says he to the other man. “I am, please your honour.” “Well, then, you are a _pair of snuffers_.” Fox gained the bet.

NAVAL PUN.

A gentleman inquiring of a naval officer why sailors generally take off their shirts on going into action, was answered, that “they were unwilling to have any _check_ to fighting.”

FALSE REPORT.

A gentleman meeting an old friend, whom he had not seen for a long time, congratulated him on lately coming to the possession of a large landed estate. “There was such a report,” replied the other; “but, if you will believe me, it was quite _groundless_.”

DIVERTING VAGABOND.

Mossop, the player, always spoke in heroics. A cobbler in Dublin, who once brought home his boots, refused to leave them without the money. Mossop came in whilst he was disputing, and, looking sternly, exclaimed, “Tell me, are you the noted cobbler I have often heard of?” “Yes,” says the fellow, “and I think you the diverting vagabond I have often seen.”

PLURALITIES.

When George I. landed at Greenwich, the inhabitants, after discussing the subject, of what was the highest honour they could confer upon the newly arrived sovereign, determined upon electing him churchwarden, which was accordingly done. A dispute, however, afterwards took place in the vestry, as to whether he who was elected to serve the office of king could serve the office of churchwarden at the same time.

LORD BARRYMORE.

One evening Lord Barrymore made a remark, which transported Anthony Pasquin so much, that he vociferated for writing materials to note it down. The former called him to order, and asked what he wanted? “Ink--ink--ink, my lord!” he replied, striking his hand on the table. “Do you?” said his lordship; “wash your hands, and then you’ll get a quart.”

RECIPE FOR COOKING BEEF-STEAKS.