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

The Duke of Rutland, at one of his levées,
being at a loss for something to say to every
person he was bound in etiquette to notice,
remarked to Sir John Hamilton that there was a prospect
of an excellent crop. "The timely rain," observed
the duke, "will bring everything above ground." "God
forbid, your excellency!" exclaimed the courtier. His
excellency stared, whilst Sir John continued, sighing
heavily as he spoke, "Yes, God forbid! for I have
_three wives_ under it!"

SIR JONAH BARRINGTON, _Memoirs_.

"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak,--
Pray, how did you manage to do it?"

"In my youth," said his father, "I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength which it gave to my jaw
Has lasted the rest of my life."

LEWIS CARROLL, _Alice in Wonderland_.

Le monde récompense plus souvent les apparances
du mérite que le mérite même.

LA ROCHEFOUCAULD, _Réflexions_.

Curran told an anecdote of an Irish parliament
man, who was boasting in the House of Commons
of his attachment to trial by jury. "Mr.
Speaker, by the trial by jury I have lived, and by the
blessing of God, with the trial by jury I will die!"
Curran sat near him, and whispered audibly, "What,
Jack! do you mean to be hanged?"

CRABB ROBINSON, _Diary_.

They roused him with muffins--they roused him with ice--
They roused him with mustard and cress--
They roused him with jam and judicious advice--
They set him conundrums to guess.

LEWIS CARROLL, _Hunting of the Snark_.

My old friend Maltby, the brother of the bishop, was
a very absent man. One day at Paris, in the
Louvre, we were looking at the pictures, when a
lady entered who spoke to me, and kept me some minutes
in conversation. On rejoining Maltby, I said, "That
was Mrs. ----. We have not met so long, she had
almost forgotten me, and asked me if my name was
Rogers." Maltby, still looking at the pictures, "And
was it?"

ROGERS, _apud_ J. R. PLANCHÉ.

No one likes to be disturbed at meals
Or love.

LORD BYRON, _Don Juan_.

What is man's end? To know and to be free.
Think you to compass it by tracts and tea?

ALFRED AUSTIN, _The Season_.

To preach long, loud, and damnation, is the way to
be cried up. We love a man that damns us, and
we run after him again to save us.

SELDEN, _Table Talk_.

It's such a very serious thing
To be a funny man!

JOHN GODFREY SAXE, _Poems_.

A bore cannot be a good man: for the better he
is, the greater bore he will be, and the more
hateful he will make goodness.

LADY ASHBURTON, _apud_ LORD HOUGHTON.

Parson Wilbur sez he never heerd in his life
Thet th' Apostles rigged out in their swaller-tail coats,
An' marched round in front of a drum and a fife,
To get some on 'em office, an' some on 'em votes;
But John P.
Robinson he
Sez they didn't know everythin' down in Judee.

J. R. LOWELL, _Biglow Papers_.

I could resign that eye of blue,
Howe'er its splendour used to thrill me;
And e'en that cheek of roseate hue--
To lose it, Chloe, would not kill me.

That sunny neck I ne'er should miss,
However much I raved about it;
And sweetly as that lip can kiss,
I think I could exist without it.

In short, so well I've learned to fast,
That, sooth, my love, I know not whether
I might not bring myself at last
To do without you altogether.

THOMAS MOORE.

L'art de plaire est l'art de tromper.

VAUVENARGUES, _Réflexions_.

We don't marry beggars, said she: why, no:
It seems that to make 'em is what you do;
And as I can cook, and scour, and sew,
I needn't pay half my victuals for you.
A man for himself should be able to scratch,
But tickling's a luxury:--love, indeed!
Love burns as long as a lucifer-match,
Wedlock's the candle! Now that's my creed.

GEORGE MEREDITH, _Modern Love_.

And while my schoolmates studied less,
I resolutely studied _Moore_.

_Songs of Singularity._

"One of my aides-de-camp," said Lord Wellesley
to Plunket on one occasion, "has written a
personal narrative of his travels,--pray, Chief
Justice, what is your definition of 'personal'?" "My
lord," replied Plunket, "we lawyers always consider
_personal_ as opposed to _real_."

LORD ALBEMARLE, _Fifty Years of my Life_.

I make the butter fly, all in an hour:
I put aside the preserves and cold meats,
Telling my master his cream has turned sour,
Hiding his pickles, purloining his sweets.
I never languish for husband or dower,
I never sigh to see gyps at my feet:
I make the butter fly, all in an hour,
Taking it home for my Saturday treat.

_Lydia_, in G. O. TREVELYAN's _Horace at Athens_.

English is an expressive language, but not
difficult to master. Its range is limited. It
consists, so far as I can observe, of four words:
"nice," "jolly," "charming," and "bore;" and some
grammarians add "fond."

_Pinto_, in LORD BEACONSFIELD's _Lothair_.

When Sir George Rose was appointed one of the
four judges of the now extinct Court of Review,
he came to Lincoln's Inn with his colleagues to
be sworn in. Some friend congratulating him on his
access of dignity, he observed, "Yes! here we are, you
see--_four by honours_!"

_Macmillan's Magazine._

Ah! who has seen the mailèd lobster rise,
Clap her broad wings, and, soaring, claim the skies?
When did the owl, descending from her bower,
Crop, 'midst the fleecy flocks, the tender flower;
Or the young heifer plunge, with pliant limb,
In the salt wave, and fish-like strive to swim?
The same with plants--potatoes 'tatoes breed,
The costly cabbage springs from cabbage-seed;
Lettuce to lettuce, leeks to leeks, succeed;
Nor e'er did cooling cucumbers presume
To flower like myrtle, or like violets bloom.

_The Anti-Jacobin._

Une femme d'esprit m'a dit un jour un mot qui
pourrait bien être le secret de son sexe; c'est
que toute femme, en prenant un amant, tient
plus de compte de la manière dont les autres femmes
voient cet homme que de la manière dont elle le voit
elle-même.

CHAMFORT, _Maximes_.

Here, waiter, I'll dine in this box;
I've looked at your long bill of fare:
A Pythagorean it shocks
To view all the rarities there.

I'm not o'erburdened with cash,
Roast beef is the dinner for me;
Then why should I eat _calipash_,
Or why should I eat _calipee_?

Your trifle's no trifle, I ween,
To customers prudent as I am;
Your peas in December are green,
But I'm not so green as to buy 'em.

With ven'son I seldom am fed--
Go, bring me a sirloin, you ninny;
Who dines at a guinea a head
Will ne'er by his head get a guinea.

JAMES SMITH, _Horace in London_.

One of Lord Dudley's eccentric habits was that of
speaking to himself or thinking aloud. Soon
after he succeeded to the title of Dudley and
Ward, a lady asked Lord Castlereagh how he accounted
for the custom. "It is only Dudley speaking to Ward,"
was the ready answer to her inquiry.

SINCLAIR, _Old Times and Distant Places_.

Le secret d'ennuyer est celui de tout dire.

VOLTAIRE, _Discours_, vi.

I never heard Rogers volunteer an opinion upon
Campbell, except after his death, when he had
been to see the poet's statue. "It is the first
time," said he, "that I have seen him stand straight for
many years."

BRYAN WALLER PROCTER.

"Vexation of spirit"--that is the part that
belongs to us; we leave the "vanity" to the
women.

_Vanecourt_, in L. OLIPHANT's _Piccadilly_.

I watched her as she stoop'd to pluck
A wild flower in her hair to twine;
And wish'd that it had been my luck
To call her mine.

Anon I heard her rate, with mad
Mad words, her babe within its cot;
And felt particularly glad
That it had not.