Chapter C: F. BROWNE, Artemus Ward's Lecture

Rise up, cold reverend, to a see;
Confound the unbeliever!
Yet ne'er 'neath thee my seat shall be
For ever and for ever.

Preach, softly preach, in lawn and be
A comely, model liver,
But ne'er 'neath thee my seat shall be
For ever and for ever.

And here shall sleep thy Alderman,
And here thy pauper shiver,
And here by thee shall buzz the "she,"
For ever and for ever.

A thousand men shall sneer at thee,
A thousand women quiver,
But ne'er 'neath thee my seat shall be
For ever and for ever.

_The Shotover Papers._

For people to live happily together, the real secret
is, that they should not live too much together.

_Ellesmere_, in HELPS's _Friends in Council_.

Lord Ellenborough's saying to a witness;
"Why, you are an industrious fellow; you must
have taken pains with yourself; no man was
ever _naturally_ so stupid."

THOMAS MOORE, _Diary_.

If you've a thousand a year or a minute;
If you're a D'Orsay, whom every one follows;
If you've a head (it don't matter what's in it)
Fair as Apollo's;
If you approve of flirtations, good dinners,
Seascapes divine which the merry winds whiten,
Nice little saints and still nicer young sinners,--
Winter in Brighton!

MORTIMER COLLINS.

He [Bagehot] used to say, banteringly, to his mother,
by way of putting her off at a time when she was
anxious for him to marry, "A man's mother is
his misfortune, but his wife is his fault!"

R. H. HUTTON, _Memoir of W. Bagehot_.

_A LADY ON THE PRINCESSE DRESS._

My dress, you'll aver, is Economy's own,
Designed with most exquisite taste;
From zone unto hem, and from tucker to zone,
You can't find a vestige of _waist_!

J. ASHBY STERRY, in _English Epigrams_.

Lord Palmerston, during his last attack of
gout, exclaimed, playfully, "_Die_, my dear
doctor! That's the _last_ thing I think of doing."

J. C. JEAFFRESON, _About Lawyers_.

_ON POVERTY._

He who in his pocket has no money
Should, in his mouth, be never without honey.

_Epigrams in Distich._

Tavern--a house kept for those who are not
housekeepers.

HORACE SMITH, _The Tin Trumpet_.

When the breakfast is spread,
When the topers are mellow,
When the foam of the bride-cake is white, and
the fierce orange-blossoms are yellow.

LEWIS CARROLL, _Phantasmagoria_.

On [one] occasion, at a concert, a very indifferent
tenor, who sang repeatedly out of tune, was indiscreet
enough to express his regret to Rossini
that he should have heard him for the first time in that
room, as, he complained, "Le plafond est si sourd."
Rossini raised his eyes to the abused ceiling, and simply
ejaculated, "Heureux plafond!"

J. R. PLANCHÉ, _Recollections_.

If, sick of home and luxuries,
You want a new sensation,
And sigh for the unwonted ease
Of _un_accommodation,--
If you would taste, as amateur,
And vagabond beginner,
The painful pleasures of the poor--
Get up a picnic dinner.

HORACE SMITH, _The Tin Trumpet_.

A country rector, coming up to preach at
Oxford in his turn, complained to Dr. Routh,
the venerable Principal of Maudlin, that the
remuneration was very inadequate, considering the
travelling expenses and the labour necessary for the
composition of the discourse. "How much did they
give you?" inquired Dr. Routh. "Only five pounds,"
was the reply. "Only five pounds?" repeated the
doctor; "why, I would not have preached that sermon
for fifty!"

_Life of Rev. W. Harness._

Dey vented to de Voman's Righds,
Vere laties all agrees,
De gals should pe de voters,
And deir beaux all de votées.
"For efery man dat nefer vorks,
Von frau should vranchised pe:
Dat ish de vay I solf dis ding,"
Said Breitmann, said he.