QUIPS AND QUIDDITIES. (continued 2)

R. H. Barham, Life.

F 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.

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.

LITTLE knowledge of the world is a very dangerous thing, especially in literature.

Lord Montfort, in Lord Beaconsfield's Endymion.

I les hommes ne se flattaient pas les uns les autres, il n'y aurait guère de société.

Vauvenargues, Réflexions.

HE 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.

EAVEN knows what would become of our sociality if we never visited people we speak ill of; we should live, like Egyptian hermits, in crowded solitude.

George Eliot, Janet's Repentance.

ETHINKS the older that one grows Inclines us more to laugh than scold, though laughter Leaves us so doubly serious shortly after.

Lord Byron, Beppo.

E ought never to contend for what we are not likely to obtain.

Cardinal de Retz, Memoirs.

WILL never marry a woman who cannot carve," said M——. "Why?" "Because she would not be a help-meat for me."

Literary Gazette.

WINKLE, twinkle, little bat! How I wonder what you're at! Up above the world you fly, Like a tea-tray in the sky.

Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland.

E had for dinner, among other things, a ham which was not well flavoured; and Mrs. Frederick Mackenzie, who was annoyed about it, began apologizing, and saying that Ellerton, the local grocer, had sold it to her as something very excellent, and as a genuine Westphalia. "Ah!" said Compton, "I cannot determine precisely whether it is east or west, but it is a failure of some sort."

R. B. Carter, in Memoir of H. Compton.

NE of the company asserting that he had seen a pike caught, which weighed thirty-six pounds, and was four feet in length,—"Had it been a sole," said Harry [Sandford], "it would have surprised me less, as Shakespeare tells us, 'All the souls that are, were four feet (forfeit) once.'"

R. H. Barham, Life.

HERE is safety in numbers, especially in odd numbers. The Three Graces never married, neither did the Nine Muses.

Kenelm Chillingly, in Lord Lytton's novel.

DISTICH.

HERE are three species of creatures who when they seem coming are going, When they seem going they come: Diplomats, women, and crabs.

John Hay, Poems.

F a man might know The ill he must undergo, And shun it so, Then were it good to know. But if he undergo it, Though he know it, What boots him know it? He must undergo it.

Sir John Suckling.

ARRY CORNWALL told me that when he and Charles Lamb were once making up a dinner-party together, Charles asked him not to invite a certain lugubrious friend of theirs. "Because," said Lamb, "he would cast a damper even over a funeral."

J. T. Fields, Yesterdays with Authors.

'AMOUR plaît plus que le mariage, par la raison que les romans sont plus amusants que l'histoire.

Chamfort, Maximes.

HE farmers daughter hath frank blue eyes; (Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese) She hears the rooks caw in the windy skies, As she sits at her lattice and shells her peas. The farmer's daughter hath ripe red lips; (Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese) If you try to approach her, away she skips Over tables and chairs with apparent ease. The farmer's daughter hath soft brown hair; (Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese) And I met with a ballad, I can't say where, Which wholly consisted of lines like these.

C. S. Calverley, Fly Leaves.

ACREADY told a story of George B——, the actor, who, it seems, was not popular in the profession, being considered a sort of time-server: "There goes Georgius," said some one. "Not Georgium Sidus?" replied Keeley. "Yes," added Power, "Georgium Any-sidus."

R. H. Barham, Life.

'M weary, and sick, and disgusted With Britain's mechanical din; Where I'm much too well known to be trusted, And plaguily pestered for tin; Where love has two eyes for your banker, And one chilly flame for yourself; Where souls can afford to be franker, But where they're well garnished with pelf.

I'm sick of the whole race of poets, Emasculate, misty, and fine; They brew their small beer, and don't know its Distinction from full-bodied wine. I'm sick of the prosers, that house up At drowsy St. Stephen's—ain't you? I want some strong spirits to rouse up A good resolution or two!

Bon Gaultier Ballads.

n one occasion," said Brummell, "I called to inquire after a young lady who had sprained her ankle. Lewis, on being asked how she was, had said in the black's presence, 'The doctor has seen her, put her legs straight, and the poor chicken is doing well.' The servant, therefore, told me, with a very mysterious and knowing look, 'Oh, sir, the doctor has been here; she has laid eggs, and she and the chickens are doing well.'"

Gronow, Recollections.

SCOTTISH Scottish clergyman had some years since been cited before the Ecclesiastical Assembly at Edinburgh, to answer to a charge brought against him of great irreverence in religious matters, and Sir Walter [Scott] was employed by him to arrange his defence. The principal fact alleged against him was his having asserted, in a letter which was produced, that "he considered Pontius Pilate to be a very ill-used man, as he had done more for Christianity than all the other nine Apostles put together." The fact was proved, and suspension followed.

R. H. Barham, Life.

ON DIDACTICS IN POETRY.

ARNASSUS' peaks still catch the sun; But why—O lyric brother!— Why build a Pulpit on the one, A Platform on the other?

Austin Dobson, in Latter-Day Lyrics.

Y old fellow-traveller in Germany, himself an Irishman, being on the box of an Irish mail-coach on a very cold day, and observing the driver enveloping his neck in the voluminous folds of an ample "comforter," remarked, "You seem to be taking very good care of yourself, my friend." "Och, to be shure I am, sir," answered the driver; "what's all the world to a man when his wife's a widdy?"

J. R. Planché, Recollections.

---- has nothing truly human about him; he can't even yawn like a man.

Lady Ashburton, apud Lord Houghton.

E are apt to be kinder to the brutes that love us than to the women that love us. Is it because the brutes are dumb?

George Eliot, Adam Bede.

FRONTISPIECE of a new magazine, With all the fashions which the last month wore, Colour'd, and silver-paper leaved between That and the title page, for fear the press Should soil with parts of speech the parts of dress.

Lord Byron, Beppo.

WISH to consult you upon a little project I have formed," said a noodle to his friend. "I have an idea in my head——" "Have you?" interposed the friend, with a look of great surprise; "then you shall have my opinion at once: keep it there!—it may be some time before you get another."

Horace Smith, The Tin Trumpet.

N aime mieux dire du mal de soi-même que de n'en point parler.

La Rochefoucauld, Réflexions.

ND I said, "Why is this thus? What is the reason of this thusness?"

C. F. Browne, Artemus Ward's Lecture.

THEOLOGICAL HOROLOGY.

HERE'S this to say about the Scotch, So bother bannocks, braes, and birks, They can't produce a decent watch, For Calvinists despise good works.

Shirley Brooks, Wit and Humour.

AWSON told a good story about the Irish landlord counting out the change of a guinea. "12, 13, 14" (a shot heard); "Bob, go and see who's that that's killed; 15, 16, 17" (enter Bob). "It's Kelly, sir." "Poor Captain Kelly, a very good customer of mine; 18, 19, 20—there's your change, sir."

Thomas Moore, Diary.

AN this be Balbus, household word for all, Whose earliest exploit was to build a wall: Who, with a frankness that I'm sure must charm ye, Declared it was all over with the army? Can this be he who feasted, as 'twas said, The town at forty sesterces a head? But, while the thankless mob his bounty quaffed, Historians add—that there were some who laughed.

Horace, in G. O. Trevelyan's Horace at Athens.

SHOULD never like scolding any one else so well; and that is a point to be thought of in a husband.

Mary Garth, in George Eliot's Middlemarch.

N Logic a woman may seldom excel; But in Rhetoric always she bears off the bell. Fair Portia will show woman's talent for law, When in old Shylock's bond she could prove such a flaw. She would blunder in physic no worse than the rest, She could leave things to Nature as well as the best, She could feel at your wrist, she could finger your fee; Then why should a woman not get a degree?

Lord Neaves, Songs and Verses.

UAM parvâ sapientiâ regitur mundus. Say rather, quam magnâ stultitiâ.

Charles Buxton, Notes of Thought.

HE padded corsage and the well-matched hair, Judicious jupon spreading out the spare, Sleeves well designed soft plumpness to impart, Leave vacant still the hollows of the heart.

Alfred Austin, The Season.

TAILOR is partly an alchemist, for he extracteth his own apparel out of other men's clothes.

Sir Thomas Overbury, Characters.

AM quite ashamed to take people into my garden, and have them notice the absence of onions. In onion is strength; and a garden without it lacks flavour.

C. D. Warner, My Summer in a Garden.

ORBAY had incurred a good deal of expense To make him a Scotchman in every sense But this is a matter, you'll readily own, That isn't a question of tailors alone. A Sassenach chief may be bonily built, He may purchase a sporran, a bonnet, and kilt, Stick a skean in his hose—wear an acre of stripes— But he cannot assume an affection for pipes.

W. S. Gilbert, Bab Ballads.

HEN you have found the master-passion of a man, remember never to trust him where that passion is concerned.

Lord Chesterfield, Letters to his Son.

ON ONE WHO SPOKE LITTLE.

HARDLY ever ope my lips," one cries: "Simonides, what think you of my rule?" "If you're a fool, I think you're very wise; If you are wise, I think you are a fool."

R. Garnett, Idylls and Epigrams.

OUS aimons mieux voir ceux à qui nous faisons du bien que ceux qui nous en font.

La Rochefoucauld, Réflexions.

ALL SAINTS'.

N a church which is furnish'd with mullion and gable, With altar and reredos, with gargoyle and groin, The penitents' dresses are sealskin and sable, The odour of sanctity's eau-de-Cologne. But only could Lucifer, flying from Hades, Gaze down on this crowd with its panniers and paints, He would say, as he look'd at the lords and the ladies, "Oh, where is All Sinners', if this is All Saints'?"

Edmund Yates.

F we are long absent from our friends, we forget them; if we are constantly with them, we despise them.

W. Hazlitt, Characteristics.

WELL-KNOWN litterateur, on seeing [Lady Ruthven], after breakfast, feeding her pheasants with crumbs and milk, exclaimed, "Ah! I see your ladyship is preparing them here, for bread-sauce hereafter."

J. C. Young, Diary.

HE second canto of the "Pleasures of Memory," as published in the first edition, commenced with the lines—

"Sweet memory, wafted by thy gentle gale, Oft up the tide of Time I turn my sail."

[A] critic remarked on this passage that it suggested the alliteration—

"Oft up the tide of Time I turn my tail."

Rogers, Table Talk.

LIKE the man who makes a pun, Or drops a deep remark; I like philosophy or fun— A lecture or a lark; But I despise the men who gloat Inanely over anecdote. Ah me! I'd rather live alone Upon a desert isle, Without a voice except my own To cheer me all the while, Than dwell with men who learn by rote Their paltry funds of anecdote.

H. S. Leigh, Carols of Cockayne.

O woman is too silly not to have a genius for spite.

Anna C. Steele.

HAT'S what a man wants in a wife mostly; he wants to make sure o' one fool as 'ull tell him he's wise.

Mrs. Poyser, in George Eliot's Adam Bede.

HE characters of great and small Come ready-made, we can't bespeak one; Their sides are many, too,—and all (Except ourselves) have got a weak one. Some sanguine people love for life, Some love their hobby till it flings them.— How many love a pretty wife For love of the éclat she brings them!

Frederick Locker, London Lyrics.

ONSCIENCE, in most souls, is like an English Sovereign—it reigns, but it does not govern. Its function is merely to give a formal assent to the Bills passed by the passions; and it knows, if it opposes what those are really bent upon, that ten to one it will be obliged to abdicate.

Leslie, in Mallock's New Republic.

F you are pious (mild form of insanity), Bow down and worship the mass of humanity. Other religions are buried in mists; We're our own Gods, say the Positivists.

Mortimer Collins, The British Birds.

E were sitting in the green-room one evening during the performance, chatting and laughing, she [Mrs. Nesbitt] having a book in her hand which she had to take on the stage with her in the next scene, when Brindal, a useful member of the company, but not particularly remarkable for wit or humour, came to the door, and, leaning against it, in a sentimental manner drawled out,—

"If to her share some female errors fall, Look in her face——

He paused. She raised her beautiful eyes to him, and consciously smiled—her smile—in anticipation of the well-known complimentary termination of the couplet, when, with a deep sigh, he added—

"——and you'll believe them all!"

J. R. Planché, Recollections.

THE MAIDENS.

ERHAPS, O lovers, if we did our hair A la Medea, and if our garments were Draped classically, we should seem more fair.

THE YOUTHS.

By doing this ye would not us befool; Medea! the idea makes our blood run cool; Besides, of classics we'd enough at school.

Once a Week.

LEDGE me round, I bid ye declare, All good fellows whose beards are grey, Did not the fairest of the fair Common grow and wearisome ere Ever a month was passed away? The reddest lips that ever have kissed, The brightest eyes that ever have shone, May pray and whisper, and we not list, Or look away, and never be missed, Ere yet ever a month is gone.

W. M. Thackeray.

T was known that Lord St. Jerome gave at his ball suppers the same champagne that he gave at his dinners, and that was of the highest class: in short, a patriot. We talk with wondering execration of the great poisoners of past ages, the Borgias, the inventor of Aqua tofana, and the amiable Marchioness de Brinvilliers; but Pinto was of opinion that there were more social poisoners about in the present day than in the darkest and most demoralized periods, and then none of them are punished; which is so strange, he would add, as they are all found out.

Lord Beaconsfield, Lothair.

EARED is, of course, my heart:—but unsubdued Is, and shall be, my appetite for food.

C. S. Calverley, Verses and Translations.

HEIL had learnt and forgotten the exordium of a speech which began with the word "Necessity." This word he had repeated three times, when Sir Robert Peel broke in—"is not always the mother of invention."

Abraham Hayward, Essays.

ON MR. FROUDE AND CANON KINGSLEY.

ROUDE informs the Scottish youth Parsons have small regard for truth; The Reverend Canon Kingsley cries That History is a pack of lies. What cause for judgment so malign? A brief reflection solves the mystery: Froude believes Kingsley a divine, And Kingsley goes to Froude for history.

Anon.

INED with Sydney Smith. He said that his brother Robert had, in King George III.'s time, translated the motto, "Libertas sub rege pio," "The pious king has got liberty under."

R. H. Barham, Life.

ANDLORD: He's only a genus. Glavis: A what? Landlord: A genus!—a man who can do everything in life except anything that's useful—that's a genus.

Lord Lytton, The Lady of Lyons.

IRST love is a pretty romance, But not half so sweet as 'tis reckoned; And when one wakes from the trance, There's a vast stock of bliss in the second. And e'en should a second subside, A lover should never despair; The world is uncommonly wide, And the women uncommonly fair. The poets their raptures may tell, Who have never been put to the test; A first love is all very well, But, believe me, the last love's the best.

Mr. Bernal.

'VE nothing to say again' her piety, my dear; but I know very well I shouldn't like her to cook my victual. When a man comes in hungry an' tired, piety won't feed him, I reckon. Hard carrots 'ull lie heavy on his stomach, piety or no piety. It's right enough to be speritial—I'm no enemy to that; but I like my potatoes mealy.

Mrs. Linnet, in George Eliot's Janet's Repentance.

OMEHOW, sitting cosily here, I think of the sunny summertide hours, When the what-do-you-call-'em warbles clear, And the breezes blow—likewise the flowers.

Once a Week.

LAWYER'S brief will be brief, before a freethinker thinks freely.

Guesses at Truth.

UXTAPOSITION, in fine; and what is juxtaposition? Look you, we travel along in the railway, carriage or steamer, And, pour passer le temps, till the tedious journey be ended, Lay aside paper or book, to talk to the girl who is next one; And, pour passer le temps, with the terminus all but in prospect, Talk of eternal ties and marriages made in heaven.

Claude, in Clough's Amours de Voyage.

E measure the excellency of other men by some excellency we conceive to be in ourselves.

Selden, Table Talk.

H! spare those Gardens where the leafy glade Prompts the proposal dalliance delayed; Where tear-dewed lids, choked utterance, sobs suppressed, Tear the confession from a doubting breast; Whence they, who vainly haunted rout and ride, Emerge triumphant from a suitor's side.

Alfred Austin, The Season.

HEY have queer hotels in Oregon. I remember one where they gave me a bag of oats for a pillow. I had night mares, of course.

C. F. Browne, Artemus Ward's Lecture.

HE man who would Charybdis shun Must make a cautious movement, Or else he'll into Scylla run— Which would be no improvement. The fish that left the frying-pan, On feeling that desire, sir, Took little by their change of plan, When floundering in the fire, sir.

Lord Neaves, Songs and Verses.

HE flattery which is most pleasing to really beautiful or decidedly ugly women is that which is addressed to the intellect.

Lord Chesterfield, Letters to his Son.

OHNSON'S folly—to be candid—was a wild desire to treat Every able male white citizen he met upon the street; And there being several thousand—but this subject why pursue? 'Tis with Perkins, and not Johnson, that to-day we have to do.

Bret Harte, Complete Works.

OOD little girls ought not to make mouths at their teachers for every trifling offence. This kind of retaliation should only be resorted to under peculiarly aggravating circumstances.

If you have nothing but a rag-doll stuffed with sawdust, while one of your more fortunate little playmates has a costly china one, you should treat her with a show of kindness nevertheless. And you ought not to attempt to make a forcible swap with her, unless your conscience would justify you in it, and you know you are able to do it.

If your mother tells you to do a thing, it is wrong to reply that you won't. It is better and more becoming to intimate that you will do as she bids you, and then afterwards act quietly in the matter according to the dictates of your better judgment.

Mark Twain, Choice Works.

E count mankind, and keep our census still, We count the stars that populate the night; But who, with all his computation, can Con catty nations right?

R. H. Newell, Orpheus C. Kerr Papers.

THINK it was Jekyll who used to say that "the further he went West, the more convinced he was that the wise men did come from the East."

Sydney Smith, Life and Letters.

E qui nous empêche souvent de nous abandonner à un seul vice est que nous en avons plusieurs.

La Rochefoucauld, Réflexions.

HAVE observed that if people's vanity is pleased, they live well enough together. Offended vanity is the great separator.

Ellesmere, in Helps's Friends in Council.

ON EDINBURGH.

OMPOUS the boast, and yet a truth it speaks: A "Modern Athens"—fit for modern Greeks.

James Hannay, Sketches and Characters.

ORD ANDOVER, a very fat man, was greatly plagued at a fancy bazaar to buy some trifle or other from the ladies' stalls. At length he rather rudely said, "I am like the Prodigal Son, persecuted by ladies." "No, no," retorted Mrs. ——, "say, rather, the fatted calf."

B. R. Haydon, Diary.

QUIET conscience makes one so serene! Christians have burnt each other, quite persuaded, That all the Apostles would have done as they did.

Lord Byron, Don Juan.

ERE you born in wedlock?" asked a counsel of a witness. "No, sir, in Devonshire," was the reply.

Horace Smith, The Tin Trumpet.

VANSON, in his "Dissonance of the Gospels," thinks Luke is most worthy of credence. P—— said that Evanson was a luke-warm Christian.

Crabb Robinson, Diary.

ONE FOR HIM.

EADING the paper Laura sat, "Greenwich mean time, mamma, what's that?" "My love, it's when your stingy Pa Won't take us to the Trafalgàr."

Shirley Brooks, Wit and Humour.

WAS once as desperately in love as you are now. I adored, and was rejected. "You are in love with certain attributes," said the lady. "Damn your attributes, madam," said I; "I know nothing of attributes." "Sir," she said, with dignity, "you have been drinking." So we parted. She was married afterwards to another, who knew something about attributes, I suppose. I have seen her once, and only once. She had a baby in a yellow gown. I hate a baby in a yellow gown!

Berkley, in Longfellow's Hyperion.

MAN has generally the good or ill qualities which he attributes to mankind.

Shenstone, Essays.

OW doth the little crocodile Improve his shining tail, And pour the waters of the Nile On every shining scale! How cheerfully he seems to grin, How neatly spreads his claws, And welcomes little fishes in With gently smiling jaws!

Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland.

PROPOS of cutlets, I once called upon an old lady, who pressed me so urgently to stay and dine with her that, as I had no engagement, I could not refuse. On sitting down, the servant uncovered a dish which contained two mutton chops; and my old friend said, "Mr. Hook, you see your dinner." "Thank you, ma'am," said I; "but where is yours?"

Theodore Hook, apud Planché.

N all distresses of our friends, We first consult our private ends; While nature, kindly bent to ease us, Points out some circumstance to please us.

Swift, Verses on his own Death.

N ne donne rien si libéralement que ses conseils.

La Rochefoucauld, Réflexions.

A NUTSHELL NOVEL.

FOR A MINIATURE MUDIE.

VOL. I.

WINNING wile, A sunny smile, A feather: A tiny talk, A pleasant walk, Together!

VOL. II.

A playful pout, Capricious: A merry miss, A stolen kiss, Delicious!!

VOL. III.

You ask mamma, Consult papa, With pleasure: And both repent This rash event, At leisure!!!

J. Ashby Sterry, Boudoir Ballads.

OMAN consoles us, it is true, while we are young and handsome! When we are old and ugly, woman snubs and scolds us.

Lord Lytton, What will he do with it?

A société est composée de deux grandes classes: ceux qui ont plus de dîners que d'appétit, et ceux qui ont plus d'appétit que de dîners.

Chamfort, Maximes.

AS she wedded some gigantic shrimper, That sweet mite with whom I loved to play? Is she girt with babes that whine and whimper, That bright being who was always gay? Yes—she has at least a dozen wee things! Yes—I see her darning corduroys, Scouring floors, and setting out the tea-things, For a howling herd of hungry boys.

C. S. Calverley, Fly Leaves.

OU may report to your Government that the British youth of the present day, hot from the University, are very often prigs." "Most certainly I will," said Mr. Wog; "the last word, however, is one with which I am not acquainted." "It is an old English term for profound thinker," I replied.

L. Oliphant, Piccadilly.

OMAN takes the lead in all the departments, leaving us politics only. While we are being amused by the ballot, woman is quietly taking things into her own hands.

C. D. Warner, My Summer in a Garden.

OULD it were wind and wave alone! The terrors of the torrid zone, The indiscriminate cyclone, A man might parry; But only faith, or "triple brass," Can help the "outward-bound" to pass Safe through that eastward-faring class Who sail to marry. For him fond mothers, stout and fair, Ascend the tortuous cabin stair Only to hold around his chair Insidious sessions; For him the eyes of daughters droop Across the plate of handed soup, Suggesting seats upon the poop, And soft confessions.

Austin Dobson, Vignettes in Rhyme.

T'S poor work allays settin' the dead above the livin'. It 'ud be better if folks 'ud make much of us beforehand, isted o' beginnin' when we're gone.

Mrs. Poyser, in George Eliot's Adam Bede.

HE authoress of the "Wild Irish Girl," Lady Morgan, justly proud of her gifted sister Olivia, was in the habit of addressing every new-comer with, "I must make you acquainted with my Livy." She once used this form of words to a gentleman who had just been worsted in an encounter of wits with the lady in question. "Yes, ma'am," was the reply; "I happen to know your Livy, and I would to Heaven your Livy was Tacitus."

Lord Albemarle, Fifty Years of my Life.

ISE with the lark, and with the lark to bed," Observes some solemn, sentimental owl; Maxims like these are very cheaply said; But e'er you make yourself a fool or fowl, Pray just inquire about his rise and fall, And whether larks have any bed at all! The "time for honest folks to be in bed" Is in the morning, if I reason right; And he who cannot keep his precious head Upon its pillow till it's fairly light, And so enjoy his forty morning winks, Is up to knavery; or else—he drinks!

John Godfrey Saxe, Poems.

POPULAR MAN.—One who is so boldly vulgar that the timidly vulgar admire him.

Anne Evans, Poems and Music.

E can't for a certainty tell What mirth may molest us on Monday; But, at least, to begin the week well, Let us all be unhappy on Sunday. These gardens, their walks and green bowers, Might be free to the poor man for one day; But no, the glad plants and gay flowers Mustn't bloom or smell sweetly on Sunday. Abroad we forbid folks to roam For fear they get social or frisky; But of course they can sit still at home, And get dismally drunk upon whiskey.

Lord Neaves, Songs and Verses.

A haine des faibles n'est pas si dangereuse que leur amitié.

Vauvenargues, Réflexions.

O Matthew Arnold we must go to put us in the right, sir, About his elevating scheme of "sweetness" and of "light," sir, Which some folks say will one fine day achieve a marked ascendancy, Though "Providence" it waters down into a "stream of tendency."

F. D., in Pall Mall Gazette.

HAMBERMAIDS use up more hair-oil than any six men. If charged with purloining the same, they lie about it. What do they care about a hereafter? Absolutely nothing.

Mark Twain, Choice Works.

HEN sorely tempted to purloin Your pietà of Marc Antoine, Fair virtue doth fair play enjoin, Fair Virtuoso!

Frederick Locker, London Lyrics.

O man can be wise on an empty stomach.

Bartle Massey, in George Eliot's Adam Bede.

LL tragedies are finished by a death, All comedies are ended by a marriage; The future states of both are left to faith, For authors fear description might disparage The worlds to come of both, or fall beneath.

Lord Byron, Don Juan.

HE Bailli de Ferrette was always dressed in knee-breeches, with a cocked hat and sword, the slender proportions of which greatly resembled those of his legs. "Do tell me, my dear Bailli," said Montrond one day, "have you got three legs or three swords?"

Gronow, Recollections.

MEXICAN lady's hair never curls—it's as straight as an Indian's. Some people's hair won't curl under any circumstances. My hair won't curl under two shillings.

C. F. Browne, Artemus Ward's Lecture.

'VE read the poets of our land, Who sing of beauty and of love, Who rave about a dimpled hand, And write sweet sonnets on a glove. But sweeter far than maiden's kiss, And fairer far than Jouvin's best, Is one red-labelled quart, I wis, With Bass's well-known mark imprest. And years may come, and years may go, And fortune change as fortune will, But may my Burton fountain flow, In shade and sunshine clearly still, And till life's night is closing grey, My heart shall ever hold most dear The liquor that I sing to-day— My childhood's friend! my Bass's beer!

H. Savile Clarke.

OMEN are much more like each other than men; they have, in truth, but two passions: vanity and love: these are their universal characteristics.

Lord Chesterfield, Letters to his Son.

FTER all, are not women necessary to your happiness?" "Alas!" sighed Maximilian, "it is but too true. But women have unfortunately only one way of making us happy, whilst they have thirty thousand different modes of rendering us miserable."

Heinrich Heine, The Florentine Nights.

LOVE you! ay! it seems absurd, Altho' to prove it I was sedulous; The ink is black that writes the word, Yet you will read it all inc-red-ulous. Where was my sense, once so acute, To dream myself a hopeful suitor? I should have been much more astute; I came to you, you know, as tutor! My passion on an instant grew— (Spontaneous love is scarce a crime!). How swift those early minutes flew! And, odd to say, 'twas even-time! Maddened with love, I penned a note, And placed it where 'twould catch your sight; Alas for me! but when I wrote, Of course I thought that I did right!

Robert Reece, in Comic Poets.

HE most dreadful thing against women is the character of the men that praise them.

Lady Ashburton, apud Lord Houghton.

HERE'S one Thomas Buckle, a London youth, Who taught that the world was blind Till he was born to proclaim the truth, That matter is moulder of mind; But I really can't fancy at all How wheat, rice, and barley, Made Dick, Tom, and Charlie So tidy and trim, Without help from Him Who was preached both by Plato and Paul.

J. S. Blackie, Musa Burschicosa.

HERIDAN'S answer to Lord Lauderdale was excellent, on the latter saying he would repeat some good thing I had mentioned to him: "Pray don't, my dear Lauderdale; a joke in your mouth is no laughing matter."

Thomas Moore, Diary.

O you know why the rabbits are caught in the snare, Or the tabby cat's shot on the tiles? Why the tigers and lions creep out of their lair? Why an ostrich will travel for miles? Do you know why a sane man will whimper and cry, And weep o'er a ribbon or glove? Why a cook will put sugar for salt in a pie? Do you know? Well, I'll tell you—it's Love.

Flapper, in H. P. Stephens's Billee Taylor.

REMEMBER Curran once—in an action for breach of promise of marriage, in which he was counsel for the defendant, a young clergyman—thus appealing to the jury: "Gentlemen, I entreat of you not to ruin this young man by a vindictive verdict, for though he has talents, and is in the Church, he may rise!"

Phillips, Life of Curran.

HERE are female women, and there are male women.

Charles Buxton, Notes of Thought.

OWN fair faces not more fair In Ettrick than in Portman Square, And silly danglers just as silly In Sherwood, as in Piccadilly.

W. M. Praed.

HEARD an anecdote at Oxford, of a porter encountering on his rounds two undergraduates, who were without their gowns, or out of bounds, or out of hours. He challenged one: "Your name and college?" They were given. Turning to the other: "And pray, sir, what might your name be?" "Julius Cæsar," was the reply. "What, sir, do you mean to say your name is Julius Cæsar?" "Sir, you did not ask me what it is, but what it might be."

W. H. Harrison, Reminiscences.

ALWAYS can tell a Preoccupied man by his tumbled umbrella.

Lady Matilda, in G. O. Trevelyan's Ladies in Parliament.

ALKING of Doctor [Parr's] illegible manuscript, "Ay," said [Basil Montagu], "his letters are illegible, except they contain a commission or an announcement that he is coming to see you, and then no man can write plainer."

Miss Mitford, Life and Letters.

NEVER nursed a dear gazelle; But I was given a parroquet— (How I did nurse him if unwell!) He's imbecile, but lingers yet. He's green, with an enchanting tuft; He melts me with his small black eye; He'd look inimitable stuff'd, And knows it—but he will not die!

C. S. Calverley, Fly Leaves.

OME reformer was clamouring for the expulsion of the Bishops from the House of Lords, but said he would not have them all go; he would leave two. "To keep up the breed, I suppose," said Alvanley.

Charles Greville, Diary.

OU women regard men just as you buy books—you never care about what is in them, but how they are bound and lettered.

Damas, in Lord Lytton's Lady of Lyons.

EPITAPH ON LORD L——.

ERE lies L.'s body, from his soul asunder: He once was on the turf, and now is under.

Scrope Davies, apud Moore.

A SUITABLE BRIDE.

Y friend Admiral E. E., shortly after his return from a cruise, met an old acquaintance in the streets of ——, who said, after the usual salutations had passed, "They telt me, Admiral, that ye had got married." The Admiral, hoping for a compliment, replied, "Why, Bailie, I am getting on; I'm not so young as I was, you see, and none of the girls will have me." On which the Bailie, with perfect good faith and simplicity, replied, "'Deed, Admiral, I was na evenin' yer to a lassie, but there's mony a fine, respeckit, half-worn wumman wad be glad to tak ye."

Frederick Locker, Patchwork.

ON THE WORKS OF THE LAKE POETS.

HEY come from the Lakes—an appropriate quarter For poems diluted with plenty of water.

Rev. Henry Townshend.

ND I whispered, "I guess The sweet secret thou keepest, And the dainty distress That thou wistfully weepest; And the question is, 'Licence or banns?' though undoubtedly banns are the cheapest." Then her white hand I clasped, And with kisses I crowned it. But she glared and she gasped, And she muttered, "Confound it!" Or at least it was something like that, but the noise of the omnibus drowned it.

Lewis Carroll, Phantasmagoria.

T was Lady Cork who had originated the idea that, after all, heaven would perhaps turn out very dull to her when she got there; sitting on damp clouds, and singing "God save the King," being her idea of the principal amusements there.

Fanny Kemble, Record of a Girlhood.

ON FEMININE TALKATIVENESS.

OW wisely Nature, ordering all below, Forbade a beard on woman's chin to grow! For how could she be shaved, whate'er the skill, Whose tongue would never let her chin be still?

Anon.

HEN Tennyson entered the Oxford Theatre to receive his honorary degree of D.C.L., his locks hanging in admired disorder on his shoulders, dishevelled and unkempt, a voice from the gallery was heard crying out to him, "Did your mother call you early, dear?"

J. C. Young, Diary.

A! HA!" he said, "you loathe your ways, You writhe at these my words of warning, In agony your hands you raise!" (And so they did, for they were yawning.) "Ho! ho!" he cries, "you bow your crests— My eloquence has set you weeping; In shame you bend upon your breasts!" (And so they did, for they were sleeping.)

W. S. Gilbert, Bab Ballads.

OU may safely flatter any woman, from her understanding down to the exquisite taste of her fan.

Lord Chesterfield, Letters to his Son.

ON LADIES' ACCOMPLISHMENTS.

OUR dressing, dancing, gadding, where's the good in? Sweet lady, tell me—can you make a pudding?

Epigrams in Distich.

ORD BRAXFIELD, at whist, exclaimed to a lady with whom he was playing, "What are ye doing, ye damned auld ——?" and then, recollecting himself, "Your pardon's begged, madam; I took ye for my ain wife."

Lord Macaulay, Life.

HEN life was thornless to our ken, And, Bramble-Rise, thy hills were then A rise without a bramble.

Frederick Locker, London Lyrics.

OHN HAMILTON REYNOLDS was specially distinguished for the aptness of his quotations. Finding him one day lunching at the Garrick, I asked him if the beef he was eating was good. "It would have been," he answered, "if damned custom had not brazed it so."

J. R. Planché, Recollections.

HILE spending an evening at [Mendelssohn's] house, a note, with a ticket enclosed, was put in my hands. The note ran thus: "The Directors of the Leipzig Concerts beg leave to present to Mr. Shurely a ticket of the concert of to-morrow." Whereupon Mendelssohn ran to the pianoforte, and immediately began to play the subject from the chorus of the "Messiah," "Surely he hath borne," etc.

H. F. Chorley, Life.

HAIRSHON had a son, Who married Noah's daughter, And nearly spoilt ta flood, By trinking up ta water: Which he would have done, I at least believe it, Had ta mixture peen Only half Glenlivet.

Bon Gaultier Ballads.

FTER the execution of the eighteen malefactors [in 1787], a female was bawling an account of them, but called them nineteen. A gentleman said to her, "Why do you say nineteen? There were but eighteen hanged." She replied, "Sir, I did not know you had been reprieved."

Horace Walpole, Correspondence.

ON THE MARRIAGE OF JOB WALL AND MARY BEST.

OB, wanting a partner, thought he'd be blest, If, of all womankind, he selected the Best; For, said he, of all evils that compass the globe, A bad wife would most try the patience of Job. The Best, then, he chose, and made bone of his bone, Though 'twas clear to his friends she'd be Best left alone; For, though Best of her sex, she's the weakest of all, If it's true that the weakest must go to the Wall.

Hicks, apud J. C. Young.

A vertu des femmes est peut-être une question du tempérament.

Balzac, Physiologie du Mariage.

ON ONE STEALING A POUND OF CANDLES.

IGHT-FINGERED Catch, to keep his hands in ure, Stole anything,—of this you may be sure, That he thinks all his own that once he handles,— For practice' sake did steal a pound of candles; Was taken in the act:—oh, foolish wight! To steal such things as needs must come to light!

A Collection of Epigrams (1727).

T Hook's, one day the conversation turned on the Duke of Cumberland, and a question asked who he married. "Don't you know?" said Cannon; "the Princess de Psalms (Salms),—good enough for Hymn (him)."

W. Jerdan, Memoirs.

OR me, I neither know nor care Whether a parson ought to wear A black dress or a white dress; Fill'd with a trouble of my own— A wife who preaches in her gown, And lectures in her night-dress!

Thomas Hood.

ADAME DE —— having said, in her intense style, "I should like to be married in English, in a language in which vows are so faithfully kept," some one asked Frere, "What language, I wonder, was she married in?" "Broken English, I suppose," answered Frere.

Thomas Moore, Diary.

OUR magpies and stock-doves may flirt among trees, And chatter their transports in groves, if they please; But a house is much more to my taste than a tree, And for groves, O! a good grove of chimneys for me.

Charles Morris, Lyra Urbanica.

GAIN they asked me to marry them, and again I declined, when they cried,—"Oh, cruel man! This is too much—too much!" I told them that it was on account of the muchness that I declined.

C. F. Browne, Artemus Ward's Lecture.

N one of the country gentlemen saying in Parliament, "We must return to the food of our ancestors," somebody asked, "What food does he mean?" "Thistles, I suppose," said Tierney.

Thomas Moore, Diary.

AIDENS then were innocent, Blushing at a compliment, Or a gaze. But a blush a vanish'd grace is, For young ladies paint their faces Now-a-days, Black their eyelids till they stare, Wash with soda, till their hair Looks like maize; 'Tis the fashion to be blonde À la mode du demi-monde Now-a-days.

J. Jemmett Browne, Songs of Many Seasons.

ADY CHARLOTTE LINDSAY] said she had "sprained her ankle so often, and been told that it was worse than breaking her leg, that she said she had come to look upon a broken leg as a positive advantage."

Lord Houghton, Monographs.

LOWS are sarcasms turned stupid.

George Eliot, Felix Holt.

HEY grieved for those who perished with the cutter, And also for the biscuit-casks and butter.

Lord Byron, Don Juan.

OCIAL arrangements are awful miscarriages; Cause of all crime is our system of marriages. Poets with sonnets, and lovers with trysts, Kindle the ire of the Positivists. Husbands and wives should be all one community: Exquisite freedom with absolute unity. Wedding-rings worse are than manacled wrists— Such is the creed of the Positivists.

Mortimer Collins, The British Birds.

OX, whose pecuniary embarrassments were universally recognized, being attacked by a severe indisposition, which confined him to his apartment, Dudley frequently visited him. In the course of conversation, Fox, alluding to his complaints, remarked that he was compelled to observe much regularity in his diet and hours; adding, "I live by rule, like clockwork." "Yes," replied Dudley; "I suppose you mean you go by tick, tick, tick."

Sir Nathaniel Wraxall, Memoirs.

PROBATUM EST.

NE loss has a companion always. Semper, When people lose their train, they lose their temper.

Shirley Brooks, Wit and Humour.

ORKING by the hour tends to make one moral. A plumber working by the job, trying to unscrew a rusty, refractory nut, in a cramped position, where the tongs continually slipped off, would swear; but I never heard one of them swear, or exhibit the least impatience at such a vexation, working by the hour. Nothing can move a man who is paid by the hour. How sweet the flight of time seems to his calm mind!

C. D. Warner, My Summer in a Garden.

T greets me in my festal hours, It brings my gloom relief; It sprinkles life with loveliest flowers And plucks the sting from grief. I'd smile at poverty and pain; I'd welcome death with glee— If to the last I might retain My own—my upper G!

H. S. Leigh, Carols of Cockayne.

ILTON Perkins," said the Siren, "not thy wealth do I admire, But the intellect that flashes from those eyes of opal fire; And methinks the name thou bearest cannot surely be misplaced; And—embrace me, Mister Perkins!" Milton Perkins her embraced.

Bret Harte, Complete Works.

RUTH-VENDORS and medicine-vendors usually recommend swallowing. When a man sees his livelihood in a pill or a proposition, he likes to have orders for the dose, and not curious inquiries.

Felix Holt, in George Eliot's novel.

TUART MILL on Mind and Matter All our old Beliefs would scatter: Stuart Mill exerts his skill To make an end of Mind and Matter. But had I skill, like Stuart Mill, His own position I could shatter: The weight of Mill I count as Nil— If Mill has neither Mind nor Matter.

Lord Neaves, Songs and Verses.

ND how many hours a day did you do lessons?" said Alice. "Ten hours the first day," said the Mock Turtle; "nine the next, and so on." "What a curious plan!" exclaimed Alice. "That's the reason they're called lessons," the Gryphon remarked "because they lessen from day to day."

Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland.

UICONQUE n'a pas de caractère n'est pas un homme: c'est une chose.

Chamfort, Maximes.

T'S hard work to tell which is Old Harry when everybody's got boots on.

Mrs. Poyser, in George Eliot's Adam Bede.

WANT you to come and pass sentence On two or three books with a plot; Of course you know "Janet's Repentance"? I'm reading Sir Waverley Scott, The story of Edgar and Lucy, How thrilling, romantic, and true! The Master (his bride was a goosey!) Reminds me of you. They tell me Cockayne has been crowning A poet whose garland endures: It was you who first spouted me Browning— That stupid old Browning of yours! His vogue and his verve are alarming; I'm anxious to give him his due, But, Fred, he's not nearly so charming A poet as you!

Frederick Locker, London Lyrics.

OSEPH Gillon was a Writer to the Signet. Calling on him one day in his writing office, Sir Walter Scott said, "Why, Joseph, this place is as hot as an oven." "Well," quoth Gillon, "and isn't it here that I make my bread?"

Lockhart, Life of Scott.

OREVER! 'tis a single word! Our rude forefathers deem'd it two; Can you imagine so absurd A view? Forever! what abysms of woe The word reveals, what frenzy, what Despair! For ever (printed so) Did not. And nevermore must printer do As men did longago; but run "For" into "ever," bidding two Be one. Forever! passion-fraught, it throws O'er the dim page a gloom, a glamour: It's sweet, it's strange, and I suppose It's grammar.

C. S. Calverley, Fly Leaves.

ALKING down St. James's Street, Lord Chelmsford was accosted by a stranger, who exclaimed, "Mr. Birch, I believe?" "If you believe that, sir, you'll believe anything," replied the ex-chancellor, as he passed on.

Berkeley, Life and Recollections.

OU snared me, Rose, with ribbons, Your rose-mouth made me thrall. Brief—briefer far than Gibbon's, Was my "Decline and Fall."

Austin Dobson, Vignettes in Rhyme.

HE reason we dislike vanity in others is because it is perpetually hurting our own.

Lord Lytton's Pelham.

HEN nymphs had bluer eyes than hose, England then measured men by blows, And measured time by candles.

Frederick Locker, London Lyrics.

WOMAN'S choice usually means taking the only man she can get.

Mrs. Cadwallader, in George Eliot's Middlemarch.

O charm the girls he never spoke— Although his voice was fine; He found the most convenient way Was just to drop a line. And many a gudgeon of the pond, If they could speak to-day, Would own, with grief, this angler had A mighty "taking" way.

John Godfrey Saxe, Poems.

AM always afraid of a fool: one cannot be sure that he is not a knave as well.

W. Hazlitt, Characteristics.

HE people is much given to stoning its prophets that it may worship their reliques with the greater fervency: dogs that bark at us to-day lick our bones to-morrow with true canine fidelity.

Heinrich Heine, Ludwig Beorne.

ONEY makes a man laugh. A blind fiddler playing to a company, and playing but scurvily, the company laughed at him. His boy that led him, perceiving it, cried, "Father, let us begone; they do nothing but laugh at you." "Hold peace, boy," said the fiddler; "we shall have their money presently, and then we will laugh at them."

Selden, Table Talk.

N candent ire the solar splendour flames; The foles, languescent, pend from arid rames; His humid front the cive, anheling, wipes, And dreams of erring on ventiferous ripes. How dulce to vive occult from mortal eyes, Dorm on the herb with none to supervise, Carp the suave berries from the crescent vine, And bibe the flow from longicaudate kine! Me wretched! Let me curr to quercine shades! Effund your albid hausts, lactiferous maids! Oh, might I vole to some umbrageous clump,— Depart—be off—exude—evade—erump!

Oliver Wendell Holmes.

E slaps me gently on the back. He's stopped too long in the wine-cellar. A little tasting is a dangerous thing.

F. C. Burnand, Happy Thoughts.

THE MAIDENS.

OVERS, we pray you, gaining our consents, Let us, too, have our mediæval bents; Give us, for cricket matches, tournaments.

THE WIDOWERS.

We are stout, nor will uncomfortably truss Our arms and legs, like fowls; no jousts for us; In armour we should look ridiculous.

THE FATHERS.

Of money, tournaments would cost a heap; Humour your sweethearts, sons, with something cheap; But look to settlements before you leap.

Once a Week.

E [Samuel Beazley] suffered considerably a short time before his decease, and, his usual spirits occasionally forsaking him, he one day wrote so melancholy a letter that the friend to whom it was addressed, observed, in his reply, that it was "like the first chapter of Jeremiah." "You are mistaken, my dear fellow," retorted the wit; "it is the last chapter of Samuel."

J. R. Planché, Recollections.

O one can perceive, as I'm a sinner, A very marked improvement in the dinner. We still consume, with mingled shame and grief, Veal that is tottering on the verge of beef, Veal void of stuffing, widowed of its ham, Or the roast shoulder of an ancient ram.

Decius Mus, in G. O. Trevelyan's Horace at Athens.

S for that," said Waldershare, "sensible men are all of the same religion." "And pray what is that?" inquired the prince. "Sensible men never tell."

Lord Beaconsfield, Endymion.

ON AN OLD LOVE.

PON the cabin stairs we met, the voyage nearly over; You leant upon his arm, my pet, from Calais unto Dover! And he is looking very glad, tho' I am feeling sadder, That I'm not your companion-lad on that companion-ladder!

J. Ashby Sterry, in English Epigrams.

T strikes me that one mother-in-law is about enough to have in a family—unless you're very fond of excitement.

C. F. Browne, Artemus Ward's Lecture.

OME here, my boy, hould up your head, And look like a jintleman, sir; Jist tell me who King Jonah was; Now tell me, if you can, sir." "King Jonah was the strongest man That ever wore a crown, sir; For though the whale did swallow him, It couldn't keep him down, sir." "You're right, my boy, hould up your head, 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.

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.

ITH 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.

LEASE 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.

HE 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.

N fait souvent du bien pour pouvoir impunément faire du mal.

La Rochefoucauld, Réflexions.

HERE'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.

EREMONY.—All that is considered necessary by many in religion and friendship.

Horace Smith, The Tin Trumpet.

OGUES 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.

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.

ET us have wine and women, mirth and laughter, Sermons and soda-water the day after.

Lord Byron, Don Juan.

R. 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.

OOD 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.

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.

ICTOR HUGO is an Egoist, or, to use a stronger term, he is a Hugoist.

Heinrich Heine, Musical Notes from Paris.

ON WOMEN AS UNIONISTS.

MONG 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.

I 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.

AS —— very disagreeable?" "Why, he was as disagreeable as the occasion would permit," Luttrell said.

Sydney Smith, Life and Letters.

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.

E that would shine, and petrify his tutor, Should drink draught Allsopp in its "native pewter."

C. S. Calverley, Verses and Translations.

AUK, 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.

R. 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.

HY, 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.

ELL 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.

E virtuous, and you will be eccentric.

Mark Twain, Choice Works.

DON'T WE?

E'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.

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.

IND but thy preaching, Trapp; translate no further: Is it not written, "Thou shall do no murder"?

The Poetical Farrago (1794).

HORTLY 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.

N 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.

F 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.

ALKING 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.

T 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.

ENNY 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.

HE 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.

RIGHAM 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.

ND 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.

E wiser than other people if you can, but do not tell them so.

Lord Chesterfield, Letters to his Son.

HE 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.

E easily convert our own vices into other people's virtues, the virtues of others into vices.

W. Hazlitt, Characteristics.

OU'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.

GAINST stupidity the gods themselves combat in vain.

Heinrich Heine, Art Notes from Paris.

ON LOVE AND MARRIAGE.

IS 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.

ORD 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.

HERE'S nought, no doubt, so much the spirit calms As rum and true religion.

Lord Byron, Don Juan.

HE never speaks to any one, which is of course a great advantage to any one.

Lady Ashburton, apud Lord Houghton.

'M not denyin' the women are foolish: God Almighty made 'em to match the men.

Mrs. Poyser, in George Eliot's Adam Bede.

OU 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.

OUT le monde se plaint de sa mémoire, et personne ne se plaint de son jugement.

La Rochefoucauld, Réflexions.

ON THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.

HEN 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).

HE working-man is a noble creature—when he is quite sober.

Alexis, in W. S. Gilbert's Sorcerer.

DEFENDANT'S SONG.

HEN 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.

INING 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.

N 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.

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.

HEY 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.

HEY 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.

OMEN are generally consistent in their insincerity, if in nothing else.

Anna C. Steele.

A plus perdue de toutes les journées est celle où l'on n'a pas ri.

Chamfort, Maximes.

H, 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.

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.

YE-GLASS—a toy which enables a coxcomb to see others, and others to see that he is a coxcomb.

Horace Smith, The Tin Trumpet.

OME 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.

IRGINIA 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.

OTHING is accounted so proper in England as property.

Guesses at Truth.

S 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.

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.

OLLEGE 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.

ERTHER 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.

ERHAPS 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.

LL 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.

ES, 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.

OME d—d people have come in, and I must stop. By d—d, I mean deuced.

Lamb to Wordsworth.

URS 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.

T 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.

EFORE 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.

MILE 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.

ARRIAGE 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.

ettuce 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.

XQUISITE 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.

E 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.

OU ask me if I think your poems good; If I could praise your poems, Gibbs,—I would.

Egerton Webbe, apud Leigh Hunt.

HAT 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.

Phœbus, in Lord Beaconsfield's Lothair.

RELIABLE. (A MILD PROTEST.)

HUT 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.

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.

LL 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.

ATRIMONY—the high sea for which no compass has yet been invented.

Heinrich Heine, Musical Notes from Paris.

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.

E was the most even-tempered man I ever knew: he was always cross.

Mrs. Jenkins, Within an Ace.

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. I have a saddel—"Sayst thou soe? With styrruppes, knyghte, to boote?" I sayde not that—I answere "Noe,"— Yt lacketh such, I woot— It ys a mutton-saddel, loe! Parte of ye fleecie brute.

Lewis Carroll, Phantasmagoria.

TORY of Lord Middleton, out hunting, calling to Gunter the confectioner to "Hold hard," and not ride over the hounds. "My horse is so hot, my Lord, that I don't know what to do with him." "Ice him, Gunter, ice him."

R. H. Barham, Life.

HE'S rising now, and taking off her bonnet, And probably will end by sitting on it; For oft, as sad experiences teach, The novice, trembling from his maiden speech, Drops flustered in his place, and crushes flat His innocent and all-unconscious hat.

2nd Lady, in G. O. Trevelyan's Ladies in Parliament.

ON A LEFT-HANDED WRITING-MASTER.

HOUGH Nature thee of thy right hand bereft, Right well thou writest with the hand that's left.

Francis Fuller, apud Nicholls.

E are never so much disposed to quarrel with others, as when we are dissatisfied with ourselves.

W. Hazlitt, Characteristics.

HE cockney, met in Middlesex, or Surrey, Is often cold, and always in a hurry.

Frederick Locker, London Lyrics.

PEAKING one day of a newly risen sect of religionists who proscribed the use of animal food, the Archbishop [Whately] said to Dr. Wilson, "Do you know anything, Wilson, of this new sect?" "Yes, my Lord; I have seen their confession of faith, which is a book of cookery."

E. J. Whately's Life of Whately.

ND I do think the amateur cornopean Should be put down by law—but that's perhaps Utopian.

C. S. CALVERLEY, Verses and Translations.

E premier soupir de l'amour est le dernier de la sagesse.

Charron, La Sagesse.

OR he himself has said it, And it's greatly to his credit, That he is an Englishman! For he might have been a Roosian, A French, or Turk, or Proosian, Or perhaps Italian! But in spite of all temptations To belong to other nations, He remains an Englishman!

W. S. Gilbert, H.M.S. Pinafore.

ARON ALDERSON being asked by the chaplain of the High Sheriff at the assizes over which he was to preside, how long he would like him to preach, replied, "About half an hour, with a leaning to mercy."

J. C. Young, Diary.

ON EVENING DRESS.

HEN dress'd for the evening, girls, nowadays, Scarce an atom of dress on them leave; Nor blame them—for what is an Evening Dress, But a dress that is suited to Eve?

Anon.

T'S the silliest lie a sensible man like you ever believed, to say a woman makes a house comfortable. It's a story got up, because the women are there, and something must be found for 'em to do. I tell you there isn't a thing under the sun that needs to be done at all, but what a man can do better than a woman, unless it's bearing children, and they do that in a poor make-shift way. It had better ha' been left to the men.

Bartle Massey, in George Eliot's Adam Bede.

O sniggle or to dibble, that's the question! Whether to bait a hook with worm or bumble, Or to take up arms of any sea, some trouble To fish, and then home send 'em. To fly—to whip— To moor and tie my boat up by the end To any wooden post, or natural rock We may be near to, on a Preservation Devoutly to be fished. To fly—to whip— To whip! perchance two bream;—and there's the chub!

F. C. Burnand, Happy Thoughts.

NECDOTE of Phil Stone, the property-man of Drury Lane:—"Will you be so good, sir, as to stand a little backer?" said Phil to a gentleman behind the scenes, who had placed himself so forward as to be seen by the audience. "No, my fine fellow," returned the exquisite, who quite mistook his meaning; "but here is a pinch of snuff at your service."

R. H. Barham, Life.

T a friend's house Charles Lamb was presented with a cheese; it was a very ripe, not to say a lively cheese, and, as Lamb was leaving, his friend offered him a piece of paper in which to wrap it, so that he might convey it more conveniently. "Thank you," said Charles, "but would not several yards of twine be better, and then, you know, I could lead it home?"

Frederick Locker, Patchwork.

LOAF of bread," the Walrus said, "Is what we chiefly need; Pepper and vinegar besides Are very good indeed— Now, if you're ready, Oysters dear, We can begin to feed." "But not on us," the Oysters cried, Turning a little blue. "After such kindness, that would be A dismal thing to do!" "The night is fine," the Walrus said; "Do you admire the view?"

Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass.

ELIGION is like the fashion. One man wears his doublet slashed, another laced, another plain; but every man has a doublet: so every man has his religion. We differ about the trimming.

Selden, Table Talk.

OMANCES paint at full length people's wooings, But only give a bust of marriages; For no one cares for matrimonial cooings, There's nothing wrong in a connubial kiss.

Lord Byron, Don Juan.

YOUNG lady decorously brought up should only have two considerations in her choice of a husband: first, is his birth honourable? secondly, will his death be advantageous? All other trifling details should be left to parental anxiety.

Madame Deschappelles, in Lord Lytton's Lady of Lyons.

HE doctor's as drunk as the d——," we said, And we managed a shutter to borrow; We rais'd him, and sigh'd at the thought that his head Would consumedly ache on the morrow. We bore him home and we put him to bed, And we told his wife and his daughter To give him next morning a couple of red- Herrings with soda-water. Slowly and sadly we all walked down From his room in the uppermost story; A rush-light we placed on the cold hearth-stone, And left him alone in his glory.

R. H. Barham, Ingoldsby Lyrics.

ENJAMIN FRANKLIN was always proud of telling how he entered Philadelphia, for the first time, with nothing in the world but two shillings in his pocket and four rolls of bread under his arm. But really, when you come to examine it critically, it was nothing. Anybody could have done it.

Mark Twain, Choice Works.

'VE thought very often 'twould be a good thing In all public collections of books, if a wing Were set off by itself, like the seas from the dry lands, Marked "Literature suited to desolate islands," And filled with such books as could never be read Save by readers of proofs, forced to do it for bread,— Such books as one's wrecked on in small country taverns, Such as hermits might mortify over in caverns, Such as Satan, if printing had then been invented, As a climax of woe, would to Jove have presented, Such as Crusoe might dip in, although there are few so Outrageously cornered by fate as poor Crusoe.

J. R. Lowell, A Fable for Critics.

ELLMOUR Ah! courtship to marriage is but as the music in the play-house till the curtain's drawn; but that once up, then opens the scene of pleasure.

Belinda. Oh, foh—no; rather, courtship to marriage is a very witty prologue to a very dull play.

Congreve, The Old Bachelor.

ON HEARING A LADY PRAISE A CERTAIN REV. DOCTOR'S EYES.

CANNOT praise the Doctor's eyes; I never saw his glance divine; He always shuts them when he prays, And when he preaches he shuts mine.

G. Outram, Lyrics: Legal, etc.

HIS picture is a great work of art. It is an oil painting—done in petroleum. It is by the Old Masters. It was the last thing they did before dying. They did this and then they expired.

Some of the greatest artists in London come here every morning before daylight with lanterns to look at it. They say they never saw anything like it before—and they hope they never shall again.

C. F. Browne, Artemus Ward's Lecture.

THE WORLD.

HE world is like a rink, you know: You lose your wheel, and come to woe!

J. Ashby Sterry, in English Epigrams.

EN will sooner forgive an injury than an insult.

Lord Chesterfield, Letters to his Son.

HY is it that stupid people are always so much more anxious to talk to one, than clever people?

Charles Buxton, Notes of Thought.

ND Darwin, too, who leads the throng "in vulgum voces spargere," Maintains Humanity is nought except a big menagerie, The progeny of tailless apes, sharp-eared but puggy-nosed, sir, Who nightly climbed their "family trees," and on the top reposed, sir. There's Carlyle, on the other hand, whose first and last concern it is To preach up the "immensities" and muse on the "eternities"; But if one credits what one hears, the gist of all his brag is, sir, That "Erbwürst," rightly understood, is transcendental haggis, sir.

F. D., in Pall Mall Gazette.

UNSFORD. Travelling is a great trial of people's inability to live together. Ellesmere. Yes. Lavater says that you do not know a man until you have divided an inheritance with him; but I think a long journey with him will do.

Arthur Helps, Friends in Council.

ON AN ALDERMAN.

HAT he was born it cannot be denied; He ate, drank, slept, talk'd politics, and died.

John Cunningham (1729-1773).

T a large dinner party at Jerdan's, one of the guests indulged in some wonderful accounts of his shooting. The number of birds he had killed, and the distances at which he had brought them down, were extraordinary. Hood quietly remarked,—

"What he hit is history, What he missed is mystery."

J. R. Planché, Recollections.

'M very fond of water: It ever must delight Each mother's son or daughter— When qualified aright.

Lord Neaves, Songs and Verses.

N epicure, while eating oysters, swallowed one that was not fresh. "Zounds, waiter!" he ejaculated, making a wry face; "what sort of an oyster do you call this?" "A native, sir," replied the wielder of the knife. "A native!—I call it a settler, so you need not open any more."

Horace Smith, The Tin Trumpet.

NCE Uncle went astray, Smoked, joked, and swore away— Sworn by he's now, by a Large congregation.

Frederick Locker, London Lyrics.

OU'VE heard what a lady in Italy did— How to vex a cross husband she buried a "kid!" Sam swears she'd have managed things better by half If, instead of the "kid," she had buried the calf!

R. H. Barham, Ingoldsby Lyrics.

L est plus facile de légaliser certaines choses que de les légitimer.

Chamfort, Maximes.

ILT thou love me, fairest? Though thou art not fair, And I think thou wearest Some one else's hair. Thou couldst love, though, dearly: And, as I am told, Thou art very nearly Worth thy weight, in gold. Dost thou love, sweet one? Tell me if thou dost! Women fairly beat one, But I think thou must. Thou art loved so dearly: I am plain, but then Thou (to speak sincerely) Art as plain again.

C. S. Calverley, Fly Leaves.

ERTAINLY, my Lord," said the attendant. "He knows me," thought Lothair; but it was not so. When the British nation is at once grateful and enthusiastic, they always call you "my Lord."

Lord Beaconsfield's Lothair.

THE RECOGNITION.

OME they brought her sailor son, Grown a man across the sea, Tall and broad and black of beard, And hoarse of voice as man may be. Hand to shake and mouth to kiss, Both he offered ere he spoke; And she said—"What man is this Comes to play a sorry joke?" Then they praised him—call'd him "smart," "Tightest lad that ever stept;" But her son she did not know, And she neither smiled nor wept. Rose, a nurse of ninety years, Set a pigeon-pie in sight; She saw him eat—"'Tis he! 'tis he!" She knew him—by his appetite!

Willam Sawyer.

ORD ALLEN, being rather the worse for drinking too much wine at dinner, teased Count D'Orsay, and said some very disagreeable things, which irritated him; when suddenly John Bush entered the club and shook hands with the Count, who exclaimed, "Voilà, la différence entre une bonne bouche et une mauvaise haleine."

Gronow, Recollections.

ANOTHER WAY.

HEN lovely woman, Lump of Folly, Would show the world her vainest trait; Would treat herself as child her dolly, And warn each man of sense away; The surest method she'll discover To prompt a wink from every eye, Degrade a spouse, disgust a lover, And spoil a scalp-skin, is—to dye.

Shirley Brooks, Wit and Humour.

HE bean is a graceful, confiding, engaging vine; but you can never put beans into poetry, nor into the highest sort of prose. Corn is the child of song. It waves in all literature. But mix it with beans, and its high tone is gone. The bean is a vulgar vegetable, without culture, or any flavour of high society among vegetables.

C. D. Warner, My Summer in a Garden.

HEN Abner Dean of Angel's raised a point of order, when A church of old red sandstone took him in the abdomen, And he smiled a kind of sickly smile, and curled up on the floor, And the subsequent proceedings interested him no more.

Bret Harte, Complete Works.

was born, Signora, on New Year's Night, 1800." "Did I not tell you," said the Marquis, "that he is one of the first men of our century?"

Heinrich Heine, Travel Pictures.

HEN dinner has opprest one, I think it is perhaps the gloomiest hour Which turns up out of the sad twenty-four.

Lord Byron, Don Juan.

S a boy, George Washington gave no promise of the greatness he was one day to achieve. He was ignorant of the commonest accomplishments of youth. He could not even lie. But then he never had any of those precious advantages which are within the reach of the humblest of the boys of the present day. Any boy can lie now. I could lie before I could stand.

Mark Twain, Choice Works.

Y the way, Shakespeare endorses polygamy. He speaks of the Merry Wives of Windsor. How many wives did Mr. Windsor have?

C. F. Browne, Artemus Ward's Lecture.

DARE say she's like the rest o' the women— thinks two and two'll come to make five, if she cries and bothers enough about it.

Bartle Massey, in George Eliot's Adam Bede.

ON'T you see a hint of marriage In his sober-sided face, In his rather careless carriage And extremely rapid pace? If he's not committed treason, Or some wicked action done, Can you see the faintest reason Why a bachelor should run? Why should he be in a flurry? But a loving wife to greet, Is a circumstance to hurry The most dignified of feet!

John Godfrey Saxe, Poems.

R. LUTTRELL once said to me, "Sir, the man who says he does not like a good dinner, is either a fool or a liar."

J. R. Planché, Recollections.

TO PHŒBE.

ENTLE, modest little flower, Sweet epitome of May, Love me but for half an hour, Love me, love me, little fay." Sentences so swiftly flaming In your tiny shell-like ear, I should always be exclaiming If I loved you, Phœbe dear: "Smiles that thrill from any distance Shed upon me while I sing! Please ecstaticize existence, Love me, oh thou, fairy thing!" Words like these outpouring sadly You'd perpetually hear, If I loved you fondly, madly;— But I do not, Phœbe dear.

W. S. Gilbert, Bab Ballads.

N one occasion, when Power the actor was present, Hood was asked to propose his health. After enumerating the various talents that popular comedian possessed, he requested the company to observe that such a combination was a remarkable illustration of the old proverb, "It never rains but it powers."

J. R. Planché, Recollections.

DREAMED that somebody was dead. It was a private gentleman, and a particular friend; and I was greatly overcome when the news was broken to me (very delicately) by a gentleman in a cocked hat, top boots, and a sheet. Nothing else. "Good God!" I said, "is he dead?" "He is as dead, sir," rejoined the gentleman, "as a door nail. But we must all die, Mr. Dickens, sooner or later, my dear sir." "Ah!" I said; "yes, to be sure. Very true. But what did he die of?" The gentleman burst into a flood of tears, and said, in a voice broken by emotion, "He christened his youngest child, sir, with a toasting fork!"

Charles Dickens, apud J. T. Fields.

SUPPOSE all phrases of mere compliment have their turn to be true. A man is occasionally thankful when he says "thank you."

Stephen Guest, in George Eliot's Mill on the Floss.

ON ATALANTA.

HEN the young Greek for Atalanta sigh'd, He might have fool'd and follow'd till he died! He learn'd the sex, the bribe before her roll'd, And found, the short way to the heart, is—Gold.

George Croly (1780-1860).

E mortuis nil nisi bene: of the living speak nothing but evil.