Chapter C: S. CALVERLEY, Fly Leaves

Macready 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_.

I'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_.

"On 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_.

A 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._

Parnassus' 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_.

My 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.

We 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_.

A 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_.

"I 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_.

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

LA ROCHEFOUCAULD, _Réflexions_.

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