^ NEW ENGLAND HISTORIC GENEALOGICAL SOCIETY, F. M. BARTLETT COLLECTION, Received April 21, 1886. Mr. Francis Merrill Bartlett, of Cambridge, Mass., was born at Boston, Mass., July 6, 1822, and died at Cam- bridge, Dec. 21, 1885, aged 63. He was from his youth a lover of books. His tastes were for family and local history, for biography and general literature. He collected a select library of over fifteen hundred volumes, of which this volume is one. By his will, dated Januarys 1882, he bequeathed his entire library to this Society, as a token of his appreciation of its usefulness, and as an aid to the pursuits in which he took so much interest and in which the Society is engaged. THE FLOWERS OF WIT. BY HENRY KETT, 1ELL0W OE TRINITY COLLEGE OXFORD TWO VOLUMES IN ONE. HARTFORD PUBLISHED BY OLIVER D. COOKE & CO, INTRODUCTION. TO profess to give a faultless definition of Wit would be highly presumptuous, after some writers of eminence have failed in the attempt, and oth^Bhave declined the task. It is far more eal^as well as more pleasing, to aim at a description of the most striking modes, in which men of wit display their talents, although, con- sidered in all their exertions, they may be said to vary their forms like Proteus of old, and change their colours like the chameleon. Wit may be considered as much the same talent as genius. Or it may be said to be that species of genius, which displays itself, not in long and deliberate compositions, such as epic poetry and tragedy, but in the short and rapid sallies of conversation. Men of wit make quick associations of the most distant ideas, and are happy in the com- munication of them in clear, energetic, and pointed language. They surprise by the novel- ty of their thoughts, and please by the various turns thev give to the. m. When thev make their 1 VI INTRODUCTION. humblest efforts they play upon the different meanings of words : when they take a flight more worthy of their talents, they elicit a noble sentiment or striking image, from a common observation, occurrence, or maxim : thus they discover and communicate unexpected, yet just analogies of things, and they show the most ex- tensive exercise of their powers, by a ready command over the most brilliant figures of rhet- oric : — they illustrate their ideas by a simile, adorn them with the colours of a metaphor, or elevate them by an hyperbole. These characteristics appear to be common to all men of wit : but he whose wit is tempered with judgment, and refined by beneflknce and decorum, directs it against proper ob^Rs alone. When he indulges in the frolic of ridicule, or the asperity of satire, his delight is to make folly contemptible, and vice odious. He dirTers, therefore, as widely as possible in the application of his talents, from the authors of those perni- cious works of various kinds, which, to the dis- grace of our English literature, are frequently issued from the press ; and which, to the no less disgrace of English curiosity, meet with too wel- come and too general a perusal. He never lurks in ambush to throw the poisoned dart at the innocent and unoffending ; never assails pub- lic or private characters with unmerited satire ; nor does he take pleasure to increase the discon- tent and inflame the passions of the vulgar. — He does not play the part of the buffoon, the democrat, or the scoffing infidel, to gratify the INTRODUCTION. VH malevolence and excite the laughter of the licen- tious, the lawless, and the profane. The bon mots, or colloquial sallies of such men of wit as have been described, vary accord- ing to different occasions : some are solid as well as bright ; some are sharp, but not rough ; some are keen, but not malignant ; some are humour- ous, without vulgarity ; and all are pointed, without asperity. They are calculated to ex- cite, not the merriment of the multitude, but the surprise, admiration, and pleasure of the refined part of society. They ought not to be fleeting and transient, as the sounds that originally con- veyed them to the ear ; they ought not to be re- garded a^ire-works, which attract notice by their brilfflmcy, and afford no more than a mo- mentary pleasure. They deserve, on the con- trary, to be considered as diamonds, that are solid and durable as well as brilliant ; and, like diamonds, they ought to be preserved with care, and displayed to advantage ; that they may give pleasure to mankind through successive ages, and may perpetuate some degree at least of that admiration which was expressed by those who had the pleasure to hear them first pronounced. By the ancient Greeks and Romans the branches of knowledge which give the moderns so many advantages were comparatively little cultivated,and of course there was not such scope for the extensive range of the imagination over so many subjects as are familiar to the moderns. But if the current of the thoughts of the ancients was comparatively narrow, it was clear, deep Vlll INTRODUCTIONS and rapid ; what they wanted in variety, they made up by energy ; their sallies in conversation were like their onsets in battle, prompt, ardent, and effectual at once to settle the point. To them belonged " thoughts that breathe, and words that burn," the " acer spiritus, ac vis," the energy divine of the soul : their apothegms were the maxims of heroes and philosophers, and they contain the essence of wisdom and of greatness of mind. The Spartans were famed for the caustic spir- it, the keenness, and the conciseness of their speeches. But a style approaching the laconic, has in all ages, and in all countries, marked the conversation of acute and profound takers. The apothegms or bon mots of tire ancients and moderns possess different kinds of excel- lence, and are found to be adapted to the differ- ent states of civilization, refinement, and taste. The ancients addressed the judgment, the mod- erns appeal more to the imagination : the former spoke with a view to action, the latter to pro- duce surprise : the aim of the former was to ap- pear, and to be, heroic and noble ; that of the latter, to gain the character of being agreeable, and to raise a laugh : the former were more sen- tentious, grave, and deep ; the latter are more facetious, gay, and superficial : — and yet, in justice to both ancients and moderns, this con- trast should be closed with a concession honour- able to both parties ; for in the works of the an- cients maybe found many striking sallies of wit, and among the moderns many profound maxims INTRODUCTION. IX qf wisdom. Instances not a few to confirm this observation will occur in the following pages. Professor Porson has been heard to say, and his remark will be found upon examination to be perfectly just. " that many of the most admir- ed jokes, in our popular jest-books, may be found in the works of Athenseus, Plularch, and other ancient writers." Tt is not, however, easy to trace the origin of a bon-mot, with certainty ; and many an one, like an illegitimate child, may be attributed to a wrong father. It is highly probable that similar situations may have pro- duced similar thoughts in minds of equal capa- city and strength ; and the authors of them, al- though ra»ote from each other, both with respect to time a^vvell as place, may have been equally original in the conception of similar thoughts. Cases, however, differ very materially with re- spect to the probabilities of originality. When Hans de Veil, a Cambridge scholar, w r rote his epigram on the age of Miss Fowle, he might possibly recollect the keen remark of Cicero upon a similar occasion ; but it is ridiculous to suppose, that John, the great duke of Marlbo- rough, w r ho was singularly illiterate, quoted the admirable repartee of Ariston, the Spartan king, to his Athenian captives, when he made a no less admirable reply to his prisoner marshal Tallard.* The interest which such a compilation as the following is capable of exciting, it is presumed, ♦See vol. i. No. 400, 1* X INTRODUCTION. may be heightened by authenticating as many bon mots as possible, by referring them to their original speakers. For surely the case is much the same with respect to wit, as it is with respect to painting : — we may be pleased with a good portrait, because it is well executed ; we are better pleased, when we are told it was painted by some distinguished artist ; and we are most gratified of all when we are certain it is the like- ness of some eminent person. Still, however, sallies of wit that are anony- mous may have very strong claims to our notice and approbation. They may be considered as so many foundlings thrown upon the world : their origin is obscure; their parentjtffcre unas- certained, though they may have no cause to be ashamed of them ; and they deserve to be admitted and reared in a safe and lasting asy- lum, that they may survive for the benefit and ornament of the public at large. Forthese reasons the following work is divided into two parts. The first part contains Bon Mots, the authors of ivhich are ascertained, placed under the names of their respective authors. The second part contains Bon Mots that are chiefly anonymous. These parts are added an Appendix, contain- ing Remarks oiifPwming and Select Puns, &c.il- lustrative, like the preceding articles, of national a and individual characters. Indulgence is requested for some articles in this INTRODUCTION. XI work, because they are stated from recollection* It is hoped they will not be found to be so much al- tered for the worse, that, like the children kid- i napped by gypsies, their parents would not easily know them again. Some, it is presumed, are original, and were never published before : others have been taken from scarce works, particularly from old and curious collections in the British Mu- seum; and a few translated from the Greek, La in and French languages, appear in an English dress probably for the ^rs^ time. Some indeed have been taken from common jest-books ; but it would have been perfectly in- consistent with the plan and complexion of this work, nqji* to have carefully separated these Flowers of Wit, from the noxious plants with which they were associated. And if a few of these bon mots so selected be well known, they possess such acknowledged excellence, that the com- piler would be justly censured, were he to de- prive his readers of the pleasure of seeing them inserted in a work of this kind. The reader must not be disappointed on find- ing few specimens of the wit of our contem- poraries introduced into the following collec- tion : not but that the compiler is fully aware of the important addition, both in point of number and excellence, that might have been made, if he had inserted the bon mots ofeminent living persons. But he thinks, as a matter of delica- cy, that such a display should be reserved for the period, when prejudice shall have subsided, when praise may be bestowed without the alloy Xll INTRODUCTION. of detraction and envy, and the public curiosity may be gratified without the risk of giving of- fence to individuals. He has always regarded, with no small degree of admiration, the custom of the antients, " to defer their sacrifices to he- roes till after sunset." In such a collection as this, it cannot be rea- sonably expected that all bon mots that are val- uable and excellent are to be found. The rea- der must make allowance for the peculiar taste, and perhaps the contracted views of the collect- or. In passing through a spacious garden, al- though with the express intention of forming a nosegay, many flowers of equal beauty to those that are gathered may be passed by;nr.!vy a rose, carnation, or hyacinth, may be reft behind, and be reserved for the more observant eye and the more delicate fancy of a succeeding florist. Yet if this collection be not thought complete, it is presumed there can be no reasonable com- plaint of its want of variety* In the following pages will be found instances of profound saga- city, determined courage, keen satire, refined praise, and insight into characters, the sublime sentiments of wisdom, and the beautiful illus- trations of fancy : *' As at the feast with plenteous dainties grac'd, Dish after dish excites the roving taste ; So while my muse repeats her varied strains, Tale following tale the ravish'd ear detains." If an apology for such a literary pursuit as * Altered from Hoole's Ariosto. INTRODUCTION. Xlll this should be thougt proper, to soften the as- perity of certain fastidious critics, an apology may easily be urged. The compiler of this work, from its desultory and entertaining na- ture, found it calculated to employ and amuse the hours of frequent indisposition; and when he enjoyed abetter state of health it served as a relaxation from his more arduous and impor- tant studies, the results of which are laid before the public. Considered in this latter point of view, such a literary pursuit has the sanction of the most respectable examples. Julius Cjesar did not think it derogatory to his talents, his rank, and his exalted offices, to make a col- lection of apothegms. Did not Tacitus the philosophical historian, Plutarch one of the best moral writers of antiquity, and Valerius Maximus a Roman of an illustrious family and high military distinction, compose similar works ? And in later times, have not Erasmus the great critic and theologian, Camden the most antient antiquary, and Lord Bacon the prince of modern philosophers, diverified their studies and added to their reputation by making such collections ? . Can it be thought absurd or culpable, that a student wearied by the labour of instructing others, and wishing to relax from the severity of professional pursuits, should seek for occasional repose of mind in biography and miscellaneous reading ? Suppose it has been his delight, while resident upon the classic banks of the Isis, occasionally to retire into the yew-mantled gar- den once trodden by Harrington, Somers, XIV INTRODUCTION. Chatham, Warton, Headley, and Bowles ; and as he strayed amid its mazy walks, indul- ged the pleasures of imagination so far as to re- alize the poetic dream of Horace: "Hark i Joes Phrensy's sweet control With :nagic charms transport my soui I seem to hear, and to behold, The sages and the bards of old : And as in social bliss they move Through Elysium's happy grove, The balmy zephyrs constant play, And streams perennial round them play. 1 '* Awaking from his reverie, he is anxious to com- municate the impressions to others,that they may feel the same enthusiasm and enjoy the same pleasure. The following pages are designed to beguile a lonely, or occupy an idle hour. They are intend- ed to convey some ideas of the wisdom that has ennobled conversation, and the wit that has enli- vened it. They may amuse the gay, and exhila- rate the grave. The)' admit all who have a relish for such an elegant enjoyment into the company of many of the most illustrious characters that adorn the annals of biography. Here both the antients and the moderns unity to contribute to their entertainment. Here they * Auditis? an me luditamibilia InsaniaPaudire et videor pios Errare per lucos, amoenae Muos, et agu;e subeunt et aurar. HwR Carm, Lib. iii. 4. INTRODUCTION. XV may derive the mingled gratifications of instruc- tion and pleasure from the philosophers and the he- roes, the scholars and the politicians, the sover- eings and the courtiers of the most enlightened countries of the world. And here they may find frequent occasions to remark, that many of those who shine most conspicuous in the annals of his- tory, such as Leonidas, Alexander the Great, Henry IV. of France, and the Czar Peter, were as remarkable for sa}~ing good things as for doing great ones. Such a work as this, although it cannot aspire to dignity, or challenge praise, yet, if properly ex- ecuted, is calculated not merely for momentary amusement, but to do a permanent and impor- tant service to the cause of morality. While it constitutes a miscellany of various exertions of facetiousness, it exhibits sentiments of wisdom and virtue, and the knowledge of the most em- inent characters ; and it communicates these particulars in a mode the most pleasant, because it is short and lively. The choice speeches of those who have rendered themselves illustrious by their talents, may kindle a sympathetic ar- dour, impart the electric spark of virtue from mind to mind, make us glow with generous approbation of whatever is fair and good, and PROMPT US TO ENDEAVOUR TO EMULATE THE EXAM- PLES WE ADMIRE. THE FLOWERS OF WIT. PART X. Bon Mots referred to their Authors, and the Names of those Authors alphabetically arranged. JOSEPH ABOU. 1. Candour is the companion of true wisdom and solid learning. — Joseph Abou, an Arabian doctor of great reputed attainments in science, being asked to solve a difficult problem, very frankly confessed his total ignorance of the subject. " How is this ?" said the proposer of the problem ; " does not the caliph pay you for your know ledge ?" " Certainly," said the doctor, " he pays me for my knowledge ; for all his treasures, great as they are, would not be sufficient to pay me for my ignorance." ADDISON. This sublime moralist, elegant critic, and humorous describer of men and manners, whose works furnish instruction to vouth, amusement to age 3 and delight t<>< 2 18 FLOWERS OF WIT. all who peruse them, was remarkable for his taciturni- ty. 2. Conscious of his talents as a writer, he acknow- ledged his deficiency in conversation. " I can draw," said he, " a bill for a thousand pounds, although 1 have not a guinea in my pocket." 3. He very humorously compared physicians to an army of ancient Britons, as described by Julius Caesar. He says of them, " Some slay on foot, and some in chariots. If the infantry do not so much execution as the cavalry, it is because they cannot convey them- selves with so much velocity into all quarters, nor des- patch their business in so short a time." 4. Mr. Temple Stanyan borrowed a s.um of money of Addison, with whom he lived in habits of friendship, conversing on all subjects with equal freedom ; but from this time Mr. Stanyan agreed implicitly to every thing Addison advanced, and never as formerly, disput- ed his positions. This change of behaviour did not long escape the notice of so acute an observer, to whom it was by no mean3 agreeable. It happened one day, that a subject was started, on which they had before warmly controverted each other's notions, but now Mr. Stanyan entirely acquiesced in Addison's opinion, without offering one word in defence of his own. Ad- dison was displeased, and said, with considerable emo- tion, { Sir, either contradict me, or pay me my mo- ney.' 5. A poetaster brought Addison one of his composi- tions, and begged his opinion of it. It was a copy of very indifferent verses, and they appeared the worse, because he had prefixed to them several lines from Ho- mer, and thus exposed them to a very disadvantageous contrast. Addison with great warmth struck out the lines from Homer ; and when the surprised poetaster asked the reason : ' Do you not recollect,' said Addi V LOWERS OF WIT. 1.9 gon, ' the Roman emperor, whose statues appeared to him very ridiculous when they were placed near those of the gods ?' 6. On Lady Manchester at Paris. While haughty Gallia's dames, that spread O'er their pale cheeks an artful red, Beheld this beauteous stranger there, In native charms divinely fair, Confusion in their looks they show'd, And with unborrow'd blushes glovvM. GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS. 7. In less than a year he overran the greatest part of Germany, and surmounted every obstacle opposed to his arms. When he was besieging Ingolstadt, his horse was killed under him by a cannon ball. To an officer who ran to remount him, he coolly said, * I have had a narrow escape — but perhaps the pear is not yet ripe.' 8. Upon a similar occasion, his chancellor entreated him not to risk his life so often. Gustavus said to him with warmth, w You are always too cold ; and you stop my progress.' ' True, sire,' said the chancellor, k I confess I am cold ; but if 1 did not sometimes throw a little of my ice into your fire, you would be burnt to ashes.' 9. Sir Henry Vane, who was suspected to have been bribed by the court of Madrid, pressed Gustavus in a vehement manner to adopt certain measures. To get rid of his importunity, he said to Sir Henry, * Sir, 1 da not understand your language, you talk Spanish.' AGESILAUS. This renowned king of Sparta did honour to the rigid institutions of his country. Mean in person, but 20 FLOWERS OF WIT. exilted in mind, he was successful in his public con- duct, and amiable in private life. 10. When Agesilaus heard any persons praised or censured, he remarked, that it was as necessary to know the characters of the speakers, as the characters of those who were the subjects of their opinions. 11. A friend asked him, how true glory was to be acquired. He answered, " By contempt of death." 12. When he was asked, if he was desirous to hear a man famous for imitating the notes of the nightingale, he declined the offer, saying, "i have heard the night- ingale herself." 13. He was asked, " What ought children to be taught ?" His answer was, " they ought to learn that which it will be proper for them to practise when they reach mature age." What is this, but the most concise and the most ex- cellent description that ever was given of a right edu- cation ? 14. To a person applauding the happiness of the Persian king, who was very young, he said, " Priam was happy at his age." 15. Being once asked which virtue was superior, Fortitude or Justice : he answered, " Were all men Just, there would be no occasion for Fortitude." 16. M Inform me," said a friend to him, " of the means to establish a high reputation." His answer was, " Speak well, and act better." ALEXANDER THE GREAT. No hero makes so distinguished a figure in ancient history as Alexander the Great. His courage was u»- FLOWERS OF WIT. 21 daunted, his ambition boundless, his friendship ardent, ibis taste refined ; and, what is very extraordinary, he appears to have conversed with the same fire and spir- it with which he fought. 17. Philip, his father, knowing him to be very swift, wished him to run for the prize at the Olympic Games. " 1 would comply with your request," said Alexander, " if kings were to be my competitors." 18. When Alexander made a libation to the heroes %vho fought in the Trojan war, he placed a crown of gold upon the tomb of Achilles ; saying, that Achilles "was the most fortunate man in the world ; for while he lived, Patroclus was his friend ; and when dead, Ho- mer perpetuated his memory. 19. Alexander went to Delphi to consult the oracle there, wishing to know what success was likely to at- tend the projects of his vast ambition. The priestess pretended that it was not lawful for him to consult her at that time, and refused to enter the temple. Alex- ander, impetuous and impatient, seized her by the arm ; and as he led her in by force, she cried, " Ah my son, no one can resist you." " I want no more," exclaimed Alexander, wi this oracle is sufficient." 20. When he passed into Asia to attack Darius, he made rich presents to his general officers, insomuch that Parmenio asked him, " Sir, what do you keep for yourself?" His reply was, " hope." 21. After the battle of Issus, the complete rout of the Persian army put Alexander in possession of the camp ARIOSTO. 36. This great poet built himself a small and plain iiouse at Ferrara, and adjoining to it was a little gar- den, where he usually walked and composed his ver- ses. He was asked why he did not build a more splendid residence, since he had so beautifully de- scribed in his Orlando Furioso many large palaces, fine porticos, and pleasant fountains. His reply was, " It is much more easy to collect words than stones." In the front of his house was this inscription, which, though concise, well expressed the sentiments of con- tentment and independence : Parva sed apta mihi, sed nulli obnoxia, srd non Sordida parta meo sed tamtn are, downs. " This cot, both small and neat, 's design'd To speak its master's humble mind ; 'Twas purchas'd at his own expence, And gives to neighbours no oifence.*' The emperor Charles V. crowned Ariosto with lau- rels, the year before he died, as a token of honour, and a presage of the perennial fame of his poems. FLOWERS OF WIT* 27 ARISTIDES. He was surnamed (he Just, and his whole conduct corresponded with this glorious epithet. 37. He sat as judge in a cause when the plaintiff, to prejudice Aristides in his favour, began with saying, that the defendant always acted in opposition to Aris- tides. Aristides interrupted him, and said, "My friend, you forget yourself: state your case ; for it is your cause I am to try, and not my own." AR1STIPPUS. The character of Aristippus was inconsistent with the seclusion and the gravity of a philosopher ; for he was a courtier, a wit, and a man of pleasure. Yet that his desires were under the control of reason, and that he could enjoy or reject pleasure with equal in- difference, the following anecdote will show. 38. Dionysius the Tyrant solicited Aristippus to choose one of three very beautiful women. He re- tained them all, saying, that Paris had acted wrong by presuming to give a preference to one of three god- desses. But when he had conducted the ladies as far as his own door, he dismissed them all, saving, " Phi- losophers know how to practise, as well as teach, self-command." 39. Diogenes, washing some cabbages, and seeing Aristippus approach, said, " If you knew how to live upon cabbages, you would not pay court to kings." r And if you," replied Aristippus, a knew how to live with kings, you would not wash cabbages." 40. With peculiar felicity of allusion, he compared those who deserted the study of philosophy for other pursuits, to those lovers of Penelope who, instead of courting the mistress, degraded themselves by cou^ inj her maid servants. 28 FLOWERS OF WIT. 41. A person expressed surprise to him, that philo- sophers went always to princes, and not princes to phi- losophers. " Do you not observe," said he, " that it is usual for physicians to resort to the houses of their patients V 42. A miser objected to him his luxurious table.— Aristippus showed him an expensive dish of dainties, and said, " Would you not buy this, if it were sold for a penny ?" " Certainly I would," said the other. " Then," said Aristippus, " I only give to luxury, what you give to avarice." ARISTON. 43. A certain Athenian pronounced an oration in praise of some of his countrymen who had fallen in a battle in which the Spartans were victorious. " If your countrymen," said Ariston, one of the kings of Sparta, to him, *' were so praiseworthy, what say you of us who beat them ?" ARISTOTLE. 44. This chief of the antient philosophers, being reproached for giving money to a bad man who was in want, answered with his usual accuracy of distinc_ tion, " I did not give to the man, but to Hijmanity.'J 45. Being asked how friends are to be treated, he answered, " As we would wish them to treat us." 46. At the close of life he was requested by his scholars to nominate a successor. Theophrastus of Lesbos and Menedemus of Rhodes were candidates for this honour. Aristotle ordered two bottles of wine to be brought to him, the one from Rhodes, the other from Lesbos. " These wines," said he, " are both very excellent, but that of Lesbos suits my palate the best." He intended by this trait of delicacy and po- liteness to give the preference to Theophrastus, FLOWERS Oi' WIT. 29 PIOVANO ARLOTTO. IIb was a native of Tuscany, and flourished in the i fourteenth century. When only a poor curate, his i humble condition did not depress his vivacity, nor check the sallies of his wit and humour. 47. Ashe was once preparing to go a journey, sev- eral of his friends requested him to make purchases for them in the town to which he was going ; but all, except one, neglected to supply him with money for the purpose. He only executed the commission of this one ; so that on his return, the others called upon him, and reproached him for his inattention to their wishes. " You must know, my friends," said Arlotto, " that in the course of my journey, I came to the side of a river, and there 1 took out the papers that con- tained your commissions, to look them over ; on a sud- den a gust of wind arose, and carried all the papers down the stream, except one, which, as it had money in it was too heavy to be blown away." AUGUSTUS. 48. Ambassadors came from Saragossa to inform Augustus, that a palm-tree was growing upon the al- tar which they had raised to his honour in that place. ;< This is a proof," said he, " how often you burn sa- crifices to me there." 49. Augustus, hearing that Alexander the Great, after conquering a large part of the world, was at a loss how to employ himself, expressed his astonish- ment. " Could Alexander," said he, " be ignorant, that to conquer countries is a matter of much less la- bour than to govern them well." 50. He was told of an extravagant Roman knight who had wasted all his property. When his goods were sold by auction, Augustus commissioned a per- 3 30 FLOWERS OF WIT. son to bid for his pillow. Being asked why he wish ed to have this article of furniture in particular, he replied, " Such a pillow must be very desirable, up- on which a man so deep in debt could sleep soundly." 51. He gave an admirable example how a person who sends a challenge ought to be treated. When Mark Antony, after the battle of Actium, sent him a chal- lenge, his answer to the messenger who brought it, was, " Tell Mark Antony, if he be weary of life, there are other ways of despatch : I shall not there- fore take the trouble to be his executioner." 52. A simple youth coming to Rome from the coun- try, was observed to resemble Augustus so much, that it was the subject of general conversation. The em- peror ordered him to appear at court, and inquired of him, if his mother had ever been in Rome ? " No," answered the youth, " but my father has." 53. A Roman presented a petition to Augustus in a timid manner, and with a trembling hand. " This man," said Augustus, " behaves as if he was offering a piece of money to an elephant." 54. As Augustus was pleased with the company of Virgil and Horace, he invited them frequently to his table, and used to seat himself between the two poets. Virgil was asthmatic, and Horace had weak eyes. The emperor said jocosely, in allusion to his situation be- tween these two invalids, " Here I am, between sighs and tears." FRIAR BACON. Roger Bacon, a Franciscan friar, was the bright »tar of philosophy that shone in the dark hemisphere of the thirteenth century. On account of his great proficiency in mathematics and chemistry, he was re- puted a magician. He undertook the composition of gunpowder, the structure of the air pump, and of tele- FLOWERS OF WIT. 31 scopes. That he sometimes recreated himself by blending facetious pranks with his scientific pursuits, appears from the following anecdote, recorded by An- tony Wood. 55. " Once upon a time, several scholars of Cam- bridge came to dispute with the scholars of Oxford, with fair promises to themselves of returning*conquei- ors ; the which Friar Bacon hearing, feigned himself a thatcher, and when he was upon a house at Oxford's town's end, he, upon the approach of the Cantabrigi- ans, came down to meet them, and drawing near to them, one of the Cantabs said to him, Rustice, quid queens ? Bacon, the thatcher, answered, Ut rnecum verciflcer\s. Then quoth another of the Cambridge scholars, Versificator tu ? Bacon answered, Melior turn solis ab ortu ? Whereupon the Cantabrigians, seeing that Oxford thatchers were so good versifiers, and being more afraid of the scholars themselves, return- ed to Cambridge re infecta." SIR NICHOLAS BACON. 56. Queen Elizabeth made him lord chancellor and secretary of state. The queen, when she visited him at Hertford, said, " This house is too small for a man like you." " Madam," replied the chancellor, " it is your majesty's fault, for you have made me too large for my house." 57. He proved how well he could apply his po- liteness to making an apology. When he was newly made lord keeper, he was in Gray's-inn Walks with Sir Walter Raleigh : and a person came and told him that the earl of Exeter was above. He still continued to walk a good while- At last, when he came up, the earl of Exeter met him, and said, " My lord, I have made a great venture, to come up so high stairs, be- ing a gouty man." The lord keeper answered, " Par- don me, my lord, I have made the greatest venture of al! ; for I have ventured upon your patience." 32 FLOWERS OF WIT. LORD BACON. In his official conduct, as lord high chancellor, he was cuipable rather for his misplaced confidence i\r,m his peculation. It is probable, that he allowed his officers to accept presents, but it fs not clear that he ever took any himself. New eveidence of his integ- rity has lltely been furnished by the publication of the papers of John Aubrey, the Oxford antiquarian ; from them it appears that one of his servants acquired an estate of a thousand a year, and that others kept their coaches. Lord Bacon was the great projector of a plan for conducting the researches of philosophy upon the most accurate, certain, and comprehensive principles. Jfe proposed to substitute experiments for theories, and laid the foundation of a solid edifice of human know- ledge, which rises in due proportion and regular order from earth to heaven. VVhat a vast extent of investi- gation his comprehensive mind embraced, may h.-* as- certained by the study of his three principal works, his Advancement of Learning, De Jtugmentis Seientiarum, and Novum Organ urn. Man/ proofs may be brought to show how well the mod^ he recommends has since succeeded, and how fruitful it has been in new discov- eries. Newton applied it wit!; '.vonde-fui success to the science of optics ; and the add tions it has made to real knowledge in natural history, botany, mineralogy, chemistiy, and geology, are sufficient! y evinced by the works of Boyle, Buffon, Linnaeus, Lavoisier, Fouicroy, De Lisle, Priestley, Black, and de Luc. 58. Lord Bacon was not hasty to raise theories, but proceeded s'owi by experiments. He was wont to say to some philosophers who would not go his pace, " Gentlemen, nature is a labyrinth, in which the very haste you move with, will make you lose your way." 59. He selected the most apt illustrations, when he marked the distinctions between the various pursuits FLOWERS OF WIT. 33 of philosophers. He said, the empirical philosophers are like to pismires ; they lay up and use their store. The rationalists are like the spiders ; they spin all out of their own bowels. But give me a philosopher, who like the bee, hath a middle faculty, gathering from abroad, but digesting that which is gathered by his own virtue." 60. He gave early proofs of extraordinary talents. When he was a little boy, queen Elizabeth asked him, how old he was ? He replied, " Madam, 1 was two years old when you began your happy reign." 61. He was wont to say of a passionate man, who suppressed his anger, " that he thought worse than he spoke ; and he said of an angry man, who vented his passion in words, " That he spoke worse than he thought." 62. Queen Elizabeth being much enraged against Dr. Hayward, author of the Life of Henry the Fourth, had ordered her law officers to proceed against him, and, amongst others, inquired of Bacon, " If there was not treason in the book ?" The witty lawyer readily answered, " No, madam, I cannot answer for there being treason in it, but. 1 am certain it contains much. felony." " How !" eagerly exclaimed her majesty, " How and wherein ?" " In many passages," replied he, " which he has stolen from Tacitus." 63. At no time of life should a man give up the thoughts of enjoying the society of women. " In youth," says lord Bacon, "women are our mistresses, at a riper age our companions, in old age our nurses, and in all ages our friends." 64. He was asked by king James I. what he thought of Mr. Caderes, a very tall man who was sent on an embassy to the king of France. He said, " Very ta'.l 3* 34 FLOWERS OF WIT. men are like lofty houses, where the uppermost rooms are commonly the most meanly furnished." 65. Gondomar, the Spanish ambassador, called up- on lord Bacon after his disgrace ; and, intending to taunt him in his misfortunes, said, " My lord, 1 wish you a merry Easter." " And to you, senor, replied lord Bac?m. " I wish a good passover ;" reminding him of his Jewish descent ; which was the most cut- ting retort that could be made to a Spaniard. BALTAGI MAHOMET. 66. This grand vizir, by his military stratagems, placed the czar Peter in the same situation on the banks of the Pruth, to which the czar had reduced Charles XII. at Pultowa. From this perilous crisis of his affairs, he was extricated by the admirable address of his wife Catharine, who found means to prevail up- on the grand vizir to conclude a treaty of peace. When the treaty was signed, Charles XII. arrived, im- patient for battle, exulting in the certainty of having his old enemy the czar in his power. The Swedish monarch being informed that the treaty had been just concluded, inflamed with disappointment and rage, flew to the tent of the grand vizir, and reproached him for what he had done. " I have the power," answered Baltagi, with a calm aspect, '* to make either peace or war ; and our law commands us to grant peace to our enemies, when they implore our mercy." " Does it command you," replied Charles in an angry tone, " to make a weak and disadvantageous treaty, when you may impose what laws you please ? Had you not a fine opportunity to conduct the czar a prisoner to Con- stantinople ?" " And who then," retorted the vizir with sarcastic dryness, alluding to Charles having been so long absent from Sweden. " couid govern his empire in his absence ? It is not fit that all sovereigns should leave their dominions." FLOWERS OF WIT. 35 FRANCIS BASSEMPIERRE, 67. A general of the Swiss guards in the service }f Louis XIII. He indulged his wit at the expence sf his liberty, for he was confined in the Bastile for his :austic speeches. He passed his time in prison in -eading and writing. One day, as he was busily tuni- ng over the leaves of the Bible, a friend asked him, ' What he was looking for ?" A passage, said he, ' which I cannot find." This passage was the way )ut of prison. When he was liberated, Louis XIII. isked him his age, and he reported himself to be no -nore than fifty. The king seeming surprised, " Sire,' le answered, " I deduct ten years passed in the Bas- ile, because I did not employ them in your service." How happily was this allusion to his confinement converted into an elegant compliment 1 BAYLE. 68. His Critical Dictionary is an immense reposito- ry of facts and opinions. The power which he boldly exercised of assembling doubts and objections, tempt- ed him jocosely to take the title of the " cloud-com- peHing Jove ;" and in a conversation with the ingen- ious Abbe de Polignac, he freely disclosed his univer-" sal Pyrrhonism. "lam most truly," said Bayle, a Protestant, for I protest indifferently against all systems, and all sects." 69. He pronounced one of the most severe strictures on the fair sex. He was asked if women could keep a secret. "There is one secret," said he, " and that is the only one they can keep, — their age. 70. " If Bayle," said Voltaire, " could have foreseen in how high esteem his Diciionary would be held, he would have made it more useful by omitting the lives of obscure men, and by inserting more of those that were eminent. Des Maiseaux has written the Life of FLO\V£RS OF WIT. Bayle in a bulky volume, it ought not to have exceed- ed half a dozen pages. The life of a sedentary author is contained in his writings." WHAT IS BEAUTY ? How various, and even opposite, are the notions, which the natives of different countries entertain of personal beauty ! Yet there can be no doubt that the expression of the soft emotions of benevolence, pity, and love, as shown in the female face, is pleasing to all the world. The different opinions of beauty en- tertained in various countries, relate to colour and to form ; and these opinions arise from national customs, or certain prejudices widely extended, which alter the natural taste. In China, the chief beauty of women is thought to consist in the smallness of their feet : as soon as girls are born, the nurses confine their feet with the tightest ligatures, to prevent their growth. Tne women of Arabia colour their eye-brows with a black powder, and draw a black line under their eyes, to make them appear more prominent and expressive.' 71. In the time of the old Court, the faces of the Pa- risian ladies were spotted with patches, and plastered' with rouge. Lord Chesterfield, when at Paris, was ask-i ed by Voltaire, if he did not think some French ladieal then in company, whose cheeks were fashionably tint- ed, very beautiful. "Excuse me," said lord Chester- field, " from giving an opinion — for I am no judge of paintings." 72. A well-looking Englishman, as he was travelling among the alps, attracted much notice ; but the natives thought his person deficient in one important point, which they flattered themselves was a local beauty. " How completely handsome," they said, " this Eng- lishman would be, if he had, like us, a swelling uu< der his throat !" FLOWERS OF WIT. 37 BIAS. 73. He was one of the seven wise men of Greece. Vhen the city of Priene, his native place, was be- ieged, arid every inhabitant hastened to carry away is most valuable effects, some one asked Bias, why e retire J with empty hands. "I carry," said he, all my property with me." By this speech he leant to imply, tnat virtue and knowledge, the riches f the mind, were the only things deserving the name f property. ROBERT BIGOD, EARL OF NOR- FOLK. 74. When Edward T. king of England, commanded everal of his lords to go to the wars in France, they 11 made apologies to excuse themselves. They rep- esented they were not obliged to go to war out of heir own country, unless his majesty went in person ; n that case, they would attend him, but not otherwise, thereupon the king, in a great rage, said to Kobert 3igod, earl of Norfolk : " By God, *ir earl, you shall :ither go, or hang " " By God, sir king," was the nswer, "I will neither go nor hang." And so he vent away without leave, assembled many noblemen md other friends, and stood in his own defei.ee ; and he king, like a prudent prince, who knew his times, nsisted no more upon that matter. THE CALIPH BILLAH. 75. A satirist had written some very bitter verses eflecting upon the conduct of the grand vizir of Bil- ah, the second caliph of the race of the Fatamites in Egypt ; an d he had the audacity to apply the lash of li' censure even to the caliph himself. The vizir in i great rage complained to his master, and demanded he instant and rigorous punishment of the satirist. 38 FLOWERS OF WIT. The caliph read the verses with great composure, andi said, " Abate your resentment, pardon the culprit ; anc, as I share the injury with you, it is my desire that yot share with me the merit of my forgiveness." BOILEAU THE POET. 76. A man of plain good sense, but totally unacquaint- ed with literature, said once in the presence ofBoileau. that he had rather be able to make a wig than to make a poem ; adding, " What is the use of poetry, and' what end does it answer ?" "This very circumstance,"' replied Boileau, " raises my admiration of poetry,! that having nothing useful in it, it is nevertheless thel delight of all men." 77. He used to say that the best epigrams original ed in conversation ; and of all his own he gave the 1 preference to the following : Ci git mafemme, ah quelle est bien Pour son repos, ct pour le mien ! il Here lies my wife, and heaven knows, Not less for mine, than her repose !" 78. When he had published a new work, and his friends came and told him that the critics spoke very severely of it : " So much the better," said he, " for they never speak at all of bad works." 79. " What is the reason," asked a friend, " that you are so very punctual in keeping your dinner en-; gagements ?" " I am so," said Boileau, " by way of prevention. The time persons wait for you at dinner is generally employed either in enlarging upon the faults you have, or imputing to you those you have not." | 80. Boileau was one day visited by a nobleman, a great lounger, who reproached him with not having j jeturned bis first visit. " You, and I," said Boileau, FLOWERS OF WIT. 39 ' meet upon unequal terms. I lose my time when I >ay a visit, you only get rid of yours when you do so.'* fet when Menage called upon him one day, and on nding him at his studies, begged his pardon for in- errupting him, Boileau replied, " Sir, one man of let- ere can never interrupt another." THE ABBE BOILEAU. 81. The great Conde, on entering the city of Sens, ras complimented with an oration by the abbe Boileau, rother to the poet, then dean of the cathedral, attend- d by the clergy. The great Conde leaned forward, s if to hear the orator more distinctly, but in fact it fas his intention to put him out of countenance. The bbe" aware of his design, pretended to be greatly agi- ated, and began his speech with evident embarrass- ment. "Your highness," said he, " must not be sur- rised to see me so nervous and so much agitated on ppearing before you, at the head of these inoffensive cclesiastics, for if I was now facing you at the head of large army, I should tremble much more than I do." he prince was so much pleased with the abbe for his Idress, that he invited him to dinner. QUEEN ANNE BOLEYN. 82. As queen Anne, wife of Henry VIII. and moth- r of queen Elizabeth, was going to be beheaded in le. Tower, seeing a gentleman there of the king's rivy chamber, she called him to her, and with a leerful countenance, and a soul undaunted at ap- roaching death, said to him, " ixemember me to the ing, and tell him he is constant in advancing me to ie greatest honours. From a private gentlewoman he ade me a marchioness ; from that degree made me queen ; and now, because he can raise me no higher this world, he is translating me to heaven, to wear crown of martyrdom in eternal glory." 40 FLOWERS OF WIT. BISHOP BONNER. 83. Henry VIII. having quarrelled with Francis I. resolved to send an ambassador to deliver a messag to the French monarch in the most menacing terms and appointed bishop Bonner to execute the commis sion. The bishop told the king, that his embass would cost him his life. " Should Francis,'' said th enraged Henry, " dare to make such a sacrifice ofyoi my representative, I will instantly cut off the heads c all the Frenchmen in my dominions." "So you ma) sir," replied the bishop ; " but I fear that there i not one of them that will fit my shoulders." BOSSUET. He was bishop ofMeaux, preceptor to the Dauphir the son of Louis XIV. Pious, eloquent, and sublime he wrote many excellent works ; but his Funeral Ora tions, and his Discourse on Universal History, are th main pillars of his literary fame. 84. Louis XiV. used to consult him upon variou occasions. One day the king said, as he entered hi apartment, " We are talking of dramatic entertain ments : what is your opinion cf them " " Sire," s he, " there are great precedents in their favour, bu invincible objections against them." 85. Whenever he had a funeral sermon to compose he read Homer in the original Greek. This stud; raised his style to the due elevation of the subjeci| " I light my lamp/' said he, " with the rays of th sun." THE DUKE OF BOURBON. 86. The duke of Bourbon, general of the army c of Charles V., received his death wound in the assaul of the city of Rome. Some of the soldiers, passinj FLOWERS OF WIT. 41 near the place where he was stretched upon the ground nearly expiring, asked each other if it was true that the duke was dead. He hearing their inquiries, and wish- ing not to discourage them, exclaimed, "Bourbon is gone forward !" TOM BROWN. 87. Tom Brown, having once asked a man how he contrived to live in these hard times, was answered, " I live, as I believe you do, master Brown, by my wits:" "'Faith," replied Brown, "you must be a much more able trader than I ever thought you, to carry on business and thrive upon so small a capital." LE BRUx\. 88. He possessed in a great degree, that warm ima- gination and enthusiasm wich stimulate the efforts and increase the raptures of an artist. Some one said in his presence, of his well-known picture of the Mag- dalen, That the contrite beautiful penitent was really weeping. " That," said he, " is all perhaps that you can perceive : I hear her sigh." BUCHANAN. 89. " The famous poet Buchanan, in his travels, was taken hold of by some of the pope's inquisitors, who by his free writing suspected his religion ; but he, to acquit himself, wrote unto his holiness this distichon : Law lua, non tuafraus, virtus non copia rerum, Scandert te fecil hue dtcus eximium. For which encomium he w r as set at liberty ; and being gone out of the pope's jurisdiction, he sent to his holi- ness, and desired according to his own true meaning, to 4 12 FLOWERS OF WIT. read the self-same verses backward, which were ihese : Eximium decus hoc fecit te scandere rerum Copia non virtus, fraus lua, non tua laus." BUDiEUS. He was esteemed one of the most learned men in France in the sixteenth century. He was a man of family and fortune ; by a singular transition of pursuits, from a gamester and a sportsman he became a hard stu- dent and a prolific author. His progress in the learned languages was astonishingly rapid ; although, as he said of himself, he was both self-taught and late taught, yet his works prove the soundness of his erudition. His application was intense ; his book was the magnet that attracted all his faculties. 30. He was engaged in deep study in his library, when a servant came running to him in a great fright, f o tell him the house was on fire. " Go," said he. with perfect calmness, and hardly raising his eyes from his book, " and inform your mistress ; 'tis her concern, you know I never interfere in domestic matters." 91. Francis the First took great delight in his com- pany, gave him a pension, and appointed him master of the requests, a considerable office in the parliament of Paris. Budseus accompanied Francis the First in his splendid interview with Henry V 1 i I . , near Ardres. Francis asked him one day, " Suppose all books were ordered to be burnt, whose works would you wish, to save from the flames ?" " The works of Plutarch," he replied ; " for they contain the elements of every thing that is known,"" FLOWERS OF WIT. 43 EDMUND BURKE. 92. Dr. Johnson said of him, " That you could not stand five minutes with him beneath a shed while it rained, but you must be convinced you had been talk- ing with the greatest man you had ever seen." 93. Dr. Robertson observed, That Johnson's jokes were the rebukes of the righteous, described in scrip- ture as being like excellent oil. " Yes," exclaimed Burke, " oil of vitriol !" 94. As he was declaiming with great animation against Hastings, he was interrupted by little Major Scott. " Am I," said he indignantly, " to be teased by the barking of this jackal, while 1 am attacking the royal tiger of Bengal ?" S5. When he made his famous motion in the house of commons for the impeachment of Mr- Hastings, he adverted to the tyrannical and cruel measures exercised by several of the governors of India ; and said, " They not only made a monopoly of rice, which brought on a famine in Hindostan, but deprived the the wretched natives of the very opium which would have enabled them to forget both their oppressions and their oppressors." 96. In speaking against Lord North, he quoted the Latin adage, Magnum vectigal est parsimonia, and made a false quantity. Lord North corrected him. Mr. Burke congratulated the house of commons on the progress the noble lord was making in knowledge, and said, " There was now some hope of his proceeding from sound to sense." 97. There never was a stronger contrast between two candidates upon the hustings than between Mr. Burke and Mr. Cruder, at a Bristol election. The 44 FLOWERS OF WIT. former tired his hearers with his prolix harangues : the only speech the latter made, if speech it could be called, was, " I say ditto to Mr. Burke, I say ditto to Mr. Burke " 98. Burke* s Cliaracter of Howard. 4 * His plan," said Burke, " is original ; and it is as full of genius, as it is of humanity. He has visited all Europe, not to survey the sumptuH>usness of palaces, or the statelinessof temples ; not to make accurate meas- urements of ancient grandeur, nor to form a scale ot the curiosities of modern art ; not to collect medals, or to collate manuscripts ; but to dive into the depth ot dungeons, to plunge into the infection of hospitals, to survey the mansions of sorrow and pain ; to take the gauge and dimensions of misery, depression and con- tempt ; to remember the forgotten, to attend to the neglected, to visit the forsaken, and to compare and collate the distresses of all men in all countries." BISHOP BURNET. He is an entertaining, though a prolix historian. He was a man of inflexible principles ; for he refused the see of Chichester, offered him by Charles II., whose politics he disapproved, but accepted that of Salisbury from William ill., and declared for the toleration of the non-conformists. 99. He was extravagantly fond of tobacco and writ- ing : to enjoy both at the same time, he perforated the broad brim of his large hat, and putting his long pipe through it, puffed and wrote, and wrote and puffed again. He was a remarkably absent man in company. He earnestly entreated the great John duke of Marloorough to allow him to meet prince Eugene at his table. "Bishop," said the duke, "you know how forgetful you are, will you be accurate ?" " Your grace may depend upon my caution." Prince Eugene observing the bishop at table, inquired of him, whether he was FLO WERS OF WIT. 45 ever at Paris ? " Yes, and please your highness," said ihe bishop, " I was there in the very same year the princess de Soissons was taken up on suspicion of pois- oning her husband." Now it happened that this lady was the mother of prince Eugene ! The bishop, re- collecting himself when too late, retired covered with confusion ; and it is superfluous to add, that neither ihe duke nor prince Eugene was anxious to recall him, 100. Dining one day with Sarah duchess of Marlbo- rough, a lady not distinguished by the complacency of her temper, soon after the duke's disgrace, the bishop compared this great general to Belisarius. " But," said the duchess, " how came it to pass, that such a man became at the close of life so miserable, and so universally deserted ?" " I will tell you, madam," said the bishop ; " it was because he had such a termagant for his wife !" JULIUS O/ESAR. 101. He was remarkable for presence of mind. When he made an expedition into Africa, as he was going on shore his foot slipped, and he fell down. This fall might have been looked upon by his soldiers as a bad omen ; so to make them suppose it a good one., he spread out his arms, and embraced the earth, say- ing, " O Africa ! thus I hold thee fast." 102. A soldier boasted to Julius Caesar of the many wounds he had received in his face. Caesar', knowing him to be a coward, said to him, " The next time you run away, you had better take care how you look be- hind you." R. O. CAMBRIDGE. 103. The following translation of a passage in Boi- leau, was made by Mr. K. O. Cambridge, in the 85th year of bis age. Its application to the ambitious ruler 1G FLOWERS OF WIT. of France, did great credit to the judgment of the veteran poet. Thus of Pyrrhus inquir'd his old tutor and friend ; These elephants, soldiers, and ships, to what end? Pyr. To a siege, for I've oft been invited to come, And with glory to conquer all-conquering Rome. Tut. I agree, that great glory from thence would ensue, And 'tis worthy alone Alexander, or you. After such an exploit there's no more to be done. Pyr. Yes... the countries that border on Rome must be won. Tut. Any more ? Pyr. Don't you see Syracuse is so near ? Tut. Any more ? Pyr. Give me that, and to Carthage 1 steer. Tut. Now 1 seeyour'e resolv'd to be master of all, The near and the.distant, the great and the small ; And I plainly perceive you will not be at rest, Till you've tir'd all the East, when you've conquer"d the West. So Egypt is yours ; your ambition then ranges, And bears you away to the Tigris, and Ganges ; But when crown'd with success, &ud with glory you tire us, What's left to be done when return'd to Epirus ? Pyr. Why to feast on good cheer, and good liquor to quaff, And forgetting our labours, to sit down and laugh. Tut. Then why should we travel to Egypt or Rome ? Who forbids us to laugh without stirring from home? LORD CAMPDEN. 104. He expressed himself in an unusual strain of eloquence upon the subject of literary property. "Glo- ry," said he, " is the reward of science ; and those who deserve it, scorn all meaner views. It was not for gain that Bacon, Newton, Milton, and Locke, instructed and delighted the world. When the bookseller offered Milton five pounds for his Paradise Lost, he" did not deject it, and commit his poem to the flames ; nor did he accept the miserable pittance as the reward of his labour ; he knew, that the real price of his work was immortality, and that posterity would pay it." FLOWERS OF WIT. 47 ARTHUR LORD CAPEL. 105. Lord Clarendon said of him, " He was a man that whoever shall after him deserve best of the English nation, he can never think himself undervalued, when he shall hear that his courage, virtue, and fidelity, are laid in the balance with, and compared to, that of the lord Capel." 106. One of Lord CapeFs sayings was, " Sharp and bitter jests are blunted more by neglecting than by responding, except they be suddenly and wittily retort- ed ; but it is no imputation to a man's wisdom to use a silent scorn." CARISSIMI. 107. Carissimi, a famous composer of music, being praised for the ease and grace of his melodies, used to exclaim, Ah, questofacile quanto e difficile ! "Ah, with what difficulty is this ease acquired !" CARNEADES. 108. Tins philosopher said, " Princes learn nothing well but riding ; for their tutors flatter them, and those who contend with them in games suffer themselves to be beaten ; but a horse knows not whether a prince or a peasant be on his back, and if his rider cannot rule him, he throws him without ceremony." ANNIBAL CARR'ACHI. 109. In a company where Annibal Carrachi was present, great praises were bestowed upon the groupe of the Laocoon, one of the finest remaining specimens of ancient sculpture ; but this great painter said not a word upon the subject. As all the company expressed their astonishment at his silence, he took up a pencil 40 FLOWERS OF WIT. and sketched the outlines of the Laocoon with such accuracy, as if the statue had been before his eyes, and thus gave it the highest proof of his approbation. " Poets," said he, " paint with words, and painters speak with the pencil." 1 10. Annibal Carrachi censured the pictures of Jo- sephin, a rival artist, who, desirous to be revenged upon the critic, challenged him to fight with swords. Annibal took a painting-brush, and showing it to the incensed Josephin, said with coolness, " 1 challenge you to fight with this weapon, and with this I mean to conquer you." MR. JOHN CARTER. 111. Mr. John Carter, the incumbent of Bramford in Suffolk, who had a great share of learning and no less modesty to conceal it, dining among others of the clergy at an alderman's house in Ipswich, one of the company boasted of his own extraordinary gen- ius and knowledge, and defied any one present to start a question in theology or philosophy, to which he could not give a ready and a satisfactory answer. AN present were silent for a time ; and when Mr. Carter saw that no one else would accept this arrogant chal- lenge, he said " My plate furnishes me with a question to pose you. Here is a fish that has always lived in salt water ; pray tell me why he should come out a fresh fish, and not a salt one ?" This short question put the impertinent babbler to silence, and he was exposed to the derision of all the company. RENE DES CARTES. 112. He was a gentleman by birth, a soldier by pro- fession, and a philosopher, as far as the exercise of a fertile imagination could make one. His health was delicate, and he took care of it, without making himself a slave to precautions. He said, " Supposing I de- FLOWERS OF WIT. 49" ceive myself, and have not found out a method to preserve human life ; I have made a discovery which is highly valuable, and that is, to live free trom the constant fear of death." He told sir Kenelm Digby, that he was convinced the life of man could, by proper methods, be length- ened to the age of the patriarchs. It was, however, a bad comment on his own text, that he did not live be- yond fifty- four years. 1 13. Although it was the study of his life to enlighten mankind, he couid not escape the shafts of malevolence. " When any one does me an injury," said he, "' I endeavour to elevate my soul so high, that his malice cannot reach me." 114. The logic of the schoolmen appearing so en- cumbered with rules, that were either useless or dan- gerous, he employed himself in separating the good parts from the bad. " I am," said he, " like the sculp- tor, who labours to form a Minerva out of a shapeless block of marble." 115. A petit-mailre one day seeing Des Cartes at a feast, said, " Do philosophers regale themselves with dainties ? " Why not ?" said Des Cartes ; " do you suppose that nature has provided all good things for none but fops ?" CATULUS. 116. Ai-LUsroNS to proper names, for the sake of a joke or sarcasm, were often made by speakers at the ancient Roman bar ; but they sometimes failed in their effect, and subjected the assailant to a severe retort. An orator, whose integrity was of a very doubtful na- ture, alluding to the name of Catulus, and the loud tone in which he pleaded against him, asked him why he yelped so much. " It is," said Catulus, " because I see a tlrief." 50 FLOWERS OF WIT. 117. Those barristers of modern times, who have taken similar liberties with proper names, have not been more successful. Dr. Vansittart was retained in a cause against ser- geant Bearcroft. The latter said, " As the frequent repetition of long names may be tiresome to the court, I shall beg leave to call my learned friend opposed to me, Mr. Van," " I have not the least objection," said Vansittart, " and shall beg leave to return the compli- ment, by addressing you with the appropriate abbre- viation of Mr. Bear." 118. An indifferent pleader asked Catulus, " Have I not succeeded in making a very moving speech ?" "Certainly," said he, "for some of your audience pitied you, and the rest walked out of court." MICHAEL CERVANTES SAAVEDRA. 119. He gave a proof that his generosity was equal to his genius. He was, in the early part of his life, for some time a slave in Algiers, and there he concerted a a plan to free himself and thirteen fellow-sufferers. One of them traitorously betrayed the design, and they were all conveyed to the dey of Algiers ; and he promis- ed them their lives on condition they discovered the con- triver of the plot. '1 was that person,' exclaimed the intrepid Cervantes ; ' save my companions, and let me perish.' The dey. struck with his noble confession, spared his life, allowed him to be ransomed, and per- mitted him to depart home. This writer of an incomparable romance, replete with character, incident, pleasantry, and humour, with- out any alloy of vulgarity, obscenity, or irreligion, which is held in admiration throughout the civilized world, starved in the midst of a high reputation, and died in penury ! IgO. As Philip III., king of Spain, was standing in a balcony of his palace at Madrid, und viewing tho FLOWERS OF WIT. 51 prospects of the surrounding country, he observed a student on the banks of the river Manzanares, reading a book, and from time to time breaking off, and beating his forehead with extraordinary tokens of pleasure and delight ; upon which the king said to those about him, " That scholar is either mad, or he is reading Don Quixote." This anecdote is worth a volume of panegyric. The history of Don Quixote did not wait for the tardy fame of remote ages. It was universally read, and univer- sally admired,as soon as published ; and the most emin- ent painters', engravers, and sculptors, vied with each other in representing the story of the knight of La Man- cha; yet the author had not interest enough to obtain even the smallest pension from the court. Friendless and indigent, however, as Cervantes was, he retained his incomparable humour and iacetiousness to the end of his life. How happens it, that although the manners, customs, proverbs, and allusions in Don Quixote are so strictly Spanish, yet it is such a general favourite with readers of all nations ? The answer seems to be, that the delinea- tion of the characters, and the lively humour and bur- lesque, are so conformable to nature, that the subject is rendered, by the power of genius, universally inter- esting and pleasant. Every anecdote of such a genius as Cervantes, how- ever trifling in itself, cannot be so to his admirers. 121. M. de Boulay attended the French ambassador to Spain, while Cervantes was yet alive. He said, that the ambassador one day complimented Cervantes on the reputation he had acquired by his Don Quixote, and that Cervantes whispered in his ear, 'Had it not been for the Inquisition, I should have made my book much more entertaining.' MRS. CHAPONE. 122. Mrs. Chapone was asked the reason why she always came so early to church. " Because," said FLOWERS OF WIT. •he, ' it is part of my religion never to disturb the reli- gion of others. CHARLES V., The most potent and widely-ruling sovereign of his age, for he was king of Spain, Naples, Sicily, and Sar- dinia, emperor of Germany, and governor of the Low Countries. He was of a cool and cautious temper, deliberate in his plans, and prompt in execution. This disposition gave him a decided advantage over the warmth and impetuosity of his more amiable rival Francis I., whom he took prisoner at the battle of Pavia. Great in the possession of so much power, he shewed himself still greater by surrendering it. He resigned his crown to his son Philip II., retired to a monastery in Estremadura upon a pension, and lived the austere life of a monk. Wishing effectually to wean himself from the world, he celebrated his own obsequies with the solemnities of a real funeral ; but the awfulness of the ceremony made so strong an impression upon his mind, that he died a few days after he performed it. 123. A courtier very officiously offered to inform Charles V. where one of the most considerable of the Spanish insurgents in favour of Francis I. was to be found. Charles, wishing by his clemency to conciliate the minds of the Spaniards, rather than to exasperate them by severity, said, " You had better let him know I am here, than tell me where he is." 124. The celebrated Titian, the chief painter of the Venetian school, told Charles V. that he had the honour to paint his portrait for the third time. " You mean," said Charles, " that you give me immortality for the third time." 125. He was master of several living languages, He said, he would speak Italian to the pope, Spanish FLOWERS OF WIT. 53 to his mother queen Jane, English to queen Catharine his aunt, Flemish to his friends, and French when he talked to himself. 12G. Henry II. gained many advantages over Charles V. in the advanced period of his life. Charles con- soled himself by saying, upon such occasions, " For- tune is like a woman, she prefers young men to old." 127. When Charles V. resigned the crown of Spain in favour of Philip II., " My son," said he, " I perform an action to-day, of which antiquity furnishes few pre- cedents, and posterity will give few imitations." 128. He one day observed veiy shrewdly to an am- bassador of Henry VIII. king of England, " Your master would not give himself the airs he does, were it not that his dominions are surrounded by a herring pond." CHARLES VIII. OF FRANCE. 129. Some of his courtiers advised him to demolish the tomb of the great John duke of Bedford, the regent in the minority of Henry VI., who had gained so many victories in France. " Let us leave," said Charles, : ' this hero to remain in peace now he is dead, who, when he was alive, made all Frenchmen tremble." CHARLES XII. OF SWEDEN. 130. He carried all the virtues of a hero to excess, so as to make them as culpable as the opposite vices! By his contempt of danger, and his ardent pursuit of glory, he cannot fail to command the admiration of mankind. When his horse was killed under him, at the battle of Narva, he leaped nimbly upon a fresh one, saying jocosely, " These people will keen me in exercRc * 54 FLOWERS OF WIT. 131. As he was dictating a letter to hte secretary, ; f borab fell through the roof into the next room in th«i house where they were sitting. The terrified secretafi ry let the pen drop from his hand. " What is ,th< matter ?" said Charles calmly. The secretary replied " Ah, sir, the bomb !" " But what has the bomb t< do," said Charles, " with what I am dictating to you ?— go on." 132. A peasent threw himself at his feet, with ; complaint against one of his grenadiers, that had rob bed him and his family of their dinner. ' Is i true, ' said Charles sternly to the grenadier,' that you have robbed this man ?' The soldier replied 1 * Sir, I have not done so much harm to this man, a: your majesty has done to his master ; for you hav< taken from Augustus a kingdom, but I have only ta ken from this peasent a dinner.' Charles made th< peasent amends ; and he pardoned the grenadier fo. his bold remonstrance, saying, ' My friend, you wil do well to recollect, that if it took Poland from Au gustus, I did not take it for myself.' 133. Although his temper was severe, the follow- ing anecdote will prove that he was a generous ene- my. — He took the fort of Dunamond after a smarl siege, as the governor, colonel Canitz, held it oul against him for some time. Charles was so well pleas- ed with his determined conduct, that, as he marched out of the fort, he said to him, ' You are my enemy, and yet I love you as well as my best friends ; for you have behaved yourself like a brave soldier in de- fence of this fort against my troops: and to show you that I can esteem and reward valour even in mine en- emies, I make you a present of these five thousand ducats.' 134. He once went early in the morning to con- sult his prime minister. He was in bed, and Charles was obliged to wait till fee rose. Charlr? FLOWERS OF WIT. 55 >assed the time in talking with a soldier, whom he Dund in the ante-chamber. At last the minister appear- d, and made many apologies. The soldier, extreme- y confused for having accosted his sovereign with so nuch freedom, threw himself at his feet, and said, * Sire, forgive me, for I really took you for a man.* You have done no harm, friend,' said the king ; your mistake was natural ; for nothing is, I assure you, o much like a man, as a king.' 135. One of his old officers, who was suspected of varice, complained to him, that he conferred all his avours upon Grothusen. ' I give my money,' said he >ointedly, ' to those only who know how to make a 'ood use of it.' CHATEANEUF. 136. He was a keeper of the seals in the minority of iOuis XIII. At the age of nine, he was introduced to French bishop, who said he would give him an >range, if he would tell him where God is. ' My Lord, ' eplied the boy, ' I will give you two, if you will tell ne where he is not. " THE GREAT LORD CHATHAM. 137. His eloquence was of every kind, tranquil, vehement, argumentative, or moralising, as best suit- d the occasion. In 1764, he maintained the illegal- ly of general warrants with great energy in the house f commons. ' By the British constitution,' said he, every man's house is his castle ; not that is surround- d with walls and battlements, for it may be a straw- milt shed. Every wind of heaven may blow around it 11 the elements of nature may enter in ; but the king annot, the king dares not.' 5G FLOWERS OF WIT- LORD CHESTERFIELD. > 138. If he was the author of the Economy of Hu- man Life, he made the world some reparation for the laxity of his moral and religious principles, discover- able in his Letters to his son. Dr. Johnson said, 'that although he might be a wit among lords, he was only a lord among wits.' That he deserved a higher character for his powers of repartee, the following i stances, among many others, are sufficient to prove. 139. Lord Chesterfield complained very much at an inn were he dined, that the plates and dishes were very dirty. The waiter, with a degree of pertne.ss, observed,' that every one must eat a peck of dirt before he dies. 'That may be true, ' said lord Chester- field ; 'but no one is obliged to eat it all at a meal. 1 ' 140. 'I cannot conceive.' said a nobleman to lord Chesterfield,' ' how you manage your affairs ; for though your estate is smaller than mine, you make a much more splendid figure than I do.' 'My lord, ' said Chesterfield, * I have a place.' ' Pray wha place V ' I am my own steward.' 141. On the 1st of July it was the custom for the Protestants in Ireland to appear at the court of the lord lieutenant with orange- coloured ribbons, in com- memoration of the battle of the Boyne gained by king William III. When the earl of Chesterfield was lord lieutenant, the observed miss Ambrose, a papist, a very beautiful girl, wearing one of those ribbonds. The instant it caught his eye, he walked up to hcr> and addressed her in the following lines : 'Say lovely Tory, what's the jest, Of wearing orange on your breast? Since that same breast betraying show 1 : The whiteness of the rebel irastf FLOWERS OF WIT. Jt 142. Dryden's translation of Virgil being commend- ed by a reverend prelate, lord Chesterfield observed, The original is excellent, but every thing suffers by a translation, except a bishop." 143. The late queen hinted to lord Chesterfield her design of shutting up St. James' Park, and turning it into a garden, and asked him what he thought the altera- tion would cost. His reply was, " only three crowns I" THE ABBE CHOISY, Those who have travelled into far distant countries are often listened to with peculiar suspicion ; but it does not follow, that they violate truth, and propagate fiction, because their narratives differ from our expe- rience, or that our customs and language are the just criteria of all others. 144. The abbe Choisy, when he returned from Si- am, where he had attended the chevalier de Chaumont, ambassador from Louis XI V., was teased with num- berless questions by the courtiers as to what he had seen in so remote a country. The king interrogated him much, and asked him what they called to eat in the Siam language. The abbe said, that the Siam word was kin. A quarter of an hour after, the king asked the abbe what was the Siam word to drink, and the abbe again said, kin. " I thought," said the king, " you just now told me that word signified to cat." " So I did, sir," said the abbe without hesitation. " Kin kaou means to drink wine, and kin nam to drink water." "The abbe is a man of ready invention," said the king, smiling, ** and is very adroit in coin- ing a language." A learned man, who understood the Siam language well, has asserted, that the abbe de Choisy was not at all indebted to his invention, but spoke from his real knowledge. 53 FLOWERS OF WIT. MR. CHURCHILL. 145. The abbe Kaynall came with some other Frenchmen to visit Horace Walpole, at Strawberry Hill. They were standing at a window looking at the prospect of the Thames, which they found flat : and one of them said in French, not thinking they were overheard, " Every thing in England only serves to recommend France to us the more." Mr. Churchill instantly said, " Gentlemen, when the Cherokees were in this country, they could eat nothing but train oil." CHURCHILL THE POET. 146. One person abusing another, in the company of Churchill the poet, said, he was so extremely stu- pid, that if you said a good thing he could not under- stand it. " Pray, sir," said Churchill, " did you ever try him?" CHRISTINA QUEEN OF SWEDEN. She was the daughter of the great Gustavus Adol- phus, and inherited, with his dominions, much of the vigour of his character ; yet she wanted tenderness and sensibility to soften the sternness of her virtues, so that she was respected rather than beloved. She exemplified the varium et mutabile attributed by Virgil to her sex. Fickle in all things, except her love of learning and scholars, she was always chang- ing place, and no where content to reside. The most remarkable instance of her fickleness was, that after she had resigned the crown of Sweden, she intrigued for that of Poland. 147. During her reign, she had the glory to estab- lish peace in her kingdom. As she was single, her nobles pressed her to many, but she put a stop to their importunities, by saying," I had much rather nomi- nate a good king as my successor, who is capable of holding with glory the reins of government. Do not FLOWERS OF Vftil 69 herereibre compel me to marry ; for was I to have a son, 1 might be just as likely to have a Nero as ^n Augustus/' 148. She resigned the crown of swede n, embraced the popish religion, and publicly abjured the Luthe- ran faith at Inspruck. The same evening a comedy was acted. This occasioned the Protestants, who did not approve of her change of religion, or did not think it sincere, to say, " It is but justice, that the pa- pists should give Christina a comedy in the evening, in return for her farce in the morning." CICERO. This greatest of all Roman orators who by the pow- ers of his eloquence confounded the traitor Cataline, and made Julius Caesar tremble even when invested with the sovereign command of Rome, was remarka- ble for sallies of facetiousness and felicity of retort. 149. Cicero was of low origin, and the mother of Metellus was a woman of a licentious character. Me- tellus said to Cicero, " Dare you tell yom fathers name r" Cicero answered, " Can your mother tell yours ?" 150. Cicero saw Lentulus his son-in-law, a man of very low stature, with a very long sword by his side. He called out, " Who has tied my son-in-law to that sword ?" 151. The Sphinx, it may be recollected, was sup- posed by the antients to have been the interpreter of riddles. Hortensius, the great Roman pleader, had a present made him of a curious and valuable figure of the Sphinx as a bribe, by Verres, who was tried for his bad government of Scicily. Hortensius, plead- ing for Verres against Cicero, said, " Your allusions are so obscure, that 1 want some one to explain your 60 FLOWERS OF WIT. riddles." " You cannot be at a loss on that account," replied Cicero, M as you have the Sphinx at your house." 152. When Metellus said, that Cicero had killed more persons as a witness, than he had saved as a pleader ; Cicero answered, " True, for my honesty is greater than my eloquence." 153. Cicero said of Caninius Kevilius, who continu ed consul only ior one day, " We have had a con- sul ot such great vigilance, that he has not slept a single night during the whole time he has been in office." 154. After the battle of Pharsalia, in which Pom<- pey was defeated, one of his generals said to Cicero,, ■ We need not despair, as we have the eagles of sev- eral legions still remaining." " This would be an advantage," replied Cicero, " if we were fighting with crows." 155. Fabia Dolabella said she was thirty years of age. " This must be true, 1 ' said Cicero ; '* for 1 have heard her say so many times in the course of the last twenty years." 156. Did the author of the following -lines catch the idea from Cicero, or was it original ? Verses on a celebrated Cambridge Beauty ', Miss Mol- ly Fowle, by the Rev. Hans de Veil. " Is Molly Fowle immortal ? No. Yes, but she is ; I'll prove her so. Sh'es fifteen now, and was, I know, Fifteen, full fifteen years ago." ANN CLIFFORD. COUNTESS OK PEMBROKE. 157. She showed her high spirit and even her con- FLOWERS OF WIT. Gl tempt lor Oliver Cromwell, when he was in the pleni- tude of his power. She found herself under the necessity of recovering some of her property by a law- suit. Cromwell offered his mediation ; but she an- swered loftily, she would never accept it, whilst there was any law to be found in England. M What !" said she, " does he imagine that I, who refused to sub- mit to king James, will yield to him ?" 158. Her dislike to Cromwell was not founded on party, but on principle. She had the same dislike to Charles II., when she became acquainted with the spirit of his government. On being pressed by her friends, some time after the Restoration, to go tocourt : " By no means," said she, " unless I may be allowed to wear blinkers." 159. She was the most heroic, noble, generous, economical, virtuous, and discreel lady of her age. Bishop Rainbow summed up her character with res- pect t© her prudence and discretion, by calling her " A perfect mistress of forecast and aftercast." DR. CLARKE. 160. Hume said, that Butler's Analogy was the best defence of Christianity he had ever seen. Queen Caroline is said to have read some part of this pro- found work every day at breakfast. She asked Dr. Clarke what he knew of Butler. Dr. Clarke told her he was residing with his family upon a small liviug in Kent. The queen expressed her surprise, and said she thought he was dead. ' No, madam,' said Dr. Clarke, % he is not dead, but he is buried.' MR. CLIFTON. 16t. King James said to Mr. Clifton one day, ' I do not know how it is, but I never knew a modest man make his way at court.' * Please your majesty,* asked Mr. Clifton, * whose fault is that V 6£ FLOWERS OF WIT. COLLINS. 162. This sweet poet was much attached to a young lady, who was born the day before him, and who did not return his passion. 4 Yours is a hard case.' said a friend. ' It is so, indeed,' said Collins, ' for I came into the world a day after the /air.' THE PRINCE OF CONDE. 163. An officious friend showed the prince of Con- d£ some libels written against him, in which he was described as acting and speaking things that were false, 1 These rascals,' said he, ' make me talk and act as they would do if they were in my place.' CAPTAIN JAMES COOK. 164. He married a young lady to whom he had been guardian. Preparing soon after for one of his voyages, he said, on taking leave of his friends, * The spring of my life was stormy, the summer has been laborious ; but 1 leave in my native country a fund of happiness to enrich the autumn and cheer the winter of my days.' Little did this adventurous navigator think, when he expressed himself in this beautiful manner, that death would suddenly arrest his progress at the extremity of the globe, and frustrate the fondest hopes of his heart ! ANTHONY ASHLEY COOPER. 165. When Mr. Anthony Ashley Cooper was mem- ber for Pool in Dorsetshire, he gave a very singular instance of his humanity and integrity. Before the revolution, and for some time after, prisoners accused of high treason were not permitted to be heard by counsel, unless a special matter of law was stated to the court. A bill was at length presented to the house FLOWERS OF WIT. S3 of commons, to abolish this prohibition ; and, notwith- standing the equity of such an intended law, it met with great opposition. When the bill was brought into the house, Mr. Coo- per had prepared a speech in support of it ; but when he stood up to read it, he was so agitated, that he was unable to proceed. The speaker observing his confu- sion, recommended him to take time, and not be dis- couraged ; upon which encouragement Mr. Cooper recovered himself, and spoke as follows : — Mr. Speaker — * If I, who rise only to give my opin- ion upon the bill now depending, am so confounded that I am unable to express the least part of what I propesed to say, what must be the condition of that man, who, without any assistance whatever, is obliged to plead for his life, whilst under the dreadful appre- hensions of being deprived of it ?' This emphatic speech had such an effect upon the house, that the bill passed without opposition. On the death of his father he became earl of Shaftes- bury. His work entitled ' Characteristics' has acquir- ed for him the reputation of a philosopher. Therein he argues to inculcate these two principles ; that Di- vine Providence administers all affairs for universal good ; and that man is made by that Providence a so- cial animal, who can only find his proper end in the pursuit of moral virtue. Thus he echoes the tenets of the Socratic school ; but certainly he does not convey them in the manner either of Xenophon or Plato ; for his style is so per- plexed and verbose, as to throw a veil of obscurity over his ideas. PETER CORNEILLE. He was the fatherof the French drama. In the force hy which he is impelled, and the fire by which he is C4 FLOWERS OF WIT. animated when he describes the passions, he is mc like Shakspeare, than any of the French dramatists He is rarely pathetic, but often sublime. The bes edition of his works is enriched with the notes of Vol taire. 166. When a friend informed him that the critic threatened to publish some very severe remarks on hi tragedy of Horatius, he said, alluding to the trial c that hero, ' I am very little alarmed at their menace for you may recollect, that although Horatius was con demned by the decemviri, he was acquitted by th- people;' FERNANDO CORTEZ. 167. A Spaniard of good family. He subdued th< kingdom of Mexico, but not without exercising grea cruelties against the sovereign and people of that coun try. When he returned to Spain, he was coolly re ceived by the emperor, Charles V. One day he sud denly presented himself to that monarch. ' Who ar« you V said the emperor, haughtily. ' The man, said Cortez, as haughtily, ' who has given you mor< provinces than your ancestors left you cities.' . COTON. '168. Henry IV. of France asked the Jesuit Cote ' Would you discover to me the confession of a ms who told you he was determined to assassinate me .?. 1 No, I could not,' said Coton, ' neither in honour nor conscience ; but I would prevent his malice, b] placing myself between him and you.' LORD CHANCELLOR COWPER. 169. Henrietta Lady Luxborough remarked, * remember once to have heard lord chancellor Cowpe FLOWERS OF WIT. 65 iy, ' If every body knew as much of the law as I do, ley would (were the cause ever so good) give up half, ither than embark in our courts.' ' CREBILLON. 170. A friend asked him why he had introduced > much of the terrific into his tragedies. ' I had no Iternative,' said he : ' Corneille has taken the heav- ns, Racine the earth, and I had nothing left me but le infernal regions.' 171. In retirement he formed the subjects of his lays, and composed them without writing them down, 11 he had completed all the parts. One day, when he as lost in a tragical reverie, some one abruptly enter- I. * Do not interrupt me,' said he, ' I am overwhelm- 1 in business: lam this moment engaged in killing le minister for being a rascal, and banishing another r being a fool.' 172. He was asked, why he was fond of being irrounded by a number of dogs. * I have always een so,' said he, ' since I was thoroughly well ac- uainted with mankind.' THE CRITICS. 173. When prejudice once prevails, reason tries in ^in to recover her rights. Names, upon almost all :casions, carry greater weight than things. When je fables of de la Mothe first appeared, it was the shion to speak very unfavourably of them. At a sup- er given by the prince of Vendome, the abbe Chau- eu, the bishop of Lucon, the abbe Cointin, and other ighly reputed critics were present, and they were all ?ry merry at the expense of de la Mothe, and oppres- ?d the poor author with their censures. Voltaire, who plated the anecdote, was one of the party. ' Gentle- ien,' said he, with an air of gravity, ' you are all 6 t>(> FLOWERS OF WIT. perfectly right ; you judge according to the rules the most correct criticism, and of course are sensib what an infinite difference there is between the sty of de la Mothe and that of la Fontaine ! — A propc Have you seen the last edition of the Fables of th 1 incomparable writer ?' ' No,' said they. ' Are y< not.' continued Voltaire, c acquainted with that mc beautiful of all the fables of Fontaine, lately discove ed among the papers of the duchess of Bouiilon He read the fable to them. They heard him with loo of delight, and expressed their praise of it in the mc' rapturous terms. ' This is nature itself; what exqi site simplicity ! what captivating grace !' * Gentl men,' said Voltaire, with a triumphant sneer, ' let g undeceive you ; the fable you thus extol was not \vr ten by Fontaine, but by de la Mothe ! V OLIVER CROMWELL. 174. Lord Clarendon thus concludes his chara ter : ' He had some good qualities, which have caus< the memory of some men in all ages to be celebratec and he will be looked upon by posterity as a bra rvicked maw.' 175. When he made his public entry into Lontio 1 his companions remarked to him the great concourse people who came from all parts to see him. ' The would be just as many,' said he, ' if I was going .to tl scaffold. ' 176. He wore the mask of hypocrisy to the last.-j When he was nearly at the point of death, he gave oi that God had revealed to him things to come, and th he should recover. He confessed to his friends that th was only a pretended revelation. ' If I recover,' he, ' the silly people will think me a prophet ; and I die, what does it signify if they think me an impc tor ?' FLOWERS OF WIT. 67 RICHARD CROMWELL. The eldest son of Oliver Cromwell. He was a man Tan excellent disposition, and remarkable for his grav- y and unaffected piety. He is said to have pleaded 1 his knees before his inflexible father for the life of harles I- He succeeded to the protectorship, and obly refused the advice given to him by some of his ouncil to retain his power at the expense of blood. — Fe retired to France for some years, and returned to ngland after the Restoration, when party animosities id subsided. 177. When nearly eighty years of age, he went to le bar of the house of lords. There lord Bathurst onversed with him, and asked him how long it was ince he had been there before. ' Never, my lord/ id he, ' since I sat in that chair,' pointing to the irone. He spent many of his last years in obscurity at Ches- unt. He gave a striking and laudable proof how much tirement and peace are to be preferred to the splen- our and pomp of power. He enjoyed sound health to le last ; and was so strong and active, that, at the age f fourscore, he was seen to gallop his horse for many liles together. He died in 1712, in his 86th year. HENRY CROMWELL. 178. The youngest son of Oliver Cromwell. Like is brother, he was a man of an excellent character, ell disposed, and unambitious. He was appointed y his father lord lieutenant of Ireland, and acquitted imself in that government with great credit. He re- oiced in the Restoration, and received some favours rom Charles II., for which he was indebted to lord Clarendon. He declared to his brother Richard, " I vill rather submit to any sufferings with a good name, ban be the greatest man upon earth without onp \" 68 FLOWERS OF WIT* What a virtuous declaration ! what a just and seve: censure of the guilty ambition of his father ! ROBINSON CRUSOE. 179. The fascination of this extraordinary work not limited to the juvenile reader. Mr. Tawney, respectable alderman of Oxford, used to read Robinsc Crusoe through every year with great delight, an' thought every part of it as much matter of fact as h bibie. A friend at last asked him, how he could b such a child as to credit a story so marvellous. ' Thi original Crusoe,' added he, ' was Alexander Selkirk and Daniel de Foe, an ingenious writer, embellishe the plain story of his shipwreck upon the island ( Juan Fernandez, with almost all the adventures an remarks you so much admire.' ' Your information said the alderman with a sigh, ' may be correct, bi I had rather you had withheld it, for by thus undc ce ( iving me, you have deprived me of one of the greal est pleasures of my old age.' DAGUESSEAU. 180. When he was high-chancellor of France, a se vere law-suit was carried on between the physician and the surgeons. Mr. Peyronie pleaded ably, ant requested the chancellor to order a high wall to b built between the hospitals of the two contending par ties. * But if we do build the wall,' said the chan cellor, ' on which side of it shall we place the sick ? D'ALEMBERT. 181. When Frederick the Great of Prussia met hin at Wesel, after the peace of 1763, he embraced him and the first question he asked this celebrated mathe matician, was, Whether mathematics furnish any meth ods to calculate probabilities in politics. D'Alember! FLOWERS OF WIT. 69 :piicd, That he must plead ignorance of such meth- ds ; but if any existed, they were rendered totally seless by the monarch who asked the question. DANTE THE POET. 82. He was a man of a warm temper and a lofty pirit ; and had good qualities sufficient to procure im great friends, but he had not discretion enough to etain their favour. A prince of Verona, who had aken him under his protection, after he was driven om his own country, observed to him, how strange a ustom it was for persons of rank to keep a domestic, ailed a fool, on purpose to be laughed at. • The fool,' aid he, ' pleases, and is a great favorite ; but a wise lan is slighted, and even treated with contempt. 5 This custom,' said Dante", of you men of rank is not trange at all, for a similitude of mind is the basis of iendship.' MARQUIS D'ARGENSON. 133. ' True lovers never count by vulgar time. This assertion was well illustrated by the marquis I'Argenson, who, in the spirit of genuine gallantry, aid to a lady whom he courted, ' When I am in your ompany the hours are as short as minutes ; when ab- ent, the minutes are as long as hours.' Sill WILLIAM DAWES. An excellent divine at the close of the seventeenth ;entury. He was remarkable for his good nature, and bndness for a pun. 184. mien archbishop of York, his clergy dining vith him the first time after he had lost his lady, he old them he feared they did not find things in so good >rder as they used to be in the time of poor Mary ; md added with a deep sigh, she was indeed Mare 6* 70 FLOWERS OF WIT. Pacificum. A curate, who well recollected how inaj, plicable the epithet was, observed, * Yes, my lord but she was Mare Mortuum first.' The archbisho was so pleased with the allusion, that within two montl he gave him a living. DEMONAX. Demonax was a Cretan philosopher : he resemble Socrates in his mode of thinking, and Diogenes in h way of life. 185. He was asked, if it was allowable for wise me to drink wine. ' Surely,' said he, ' you cannot thin that nature made grapes only for foo^s.' DERRICK.- He was for many years master of the ceremonies Bath. 186. A young spendthrift saying in public corr* pany, that he remembered every thing he lent, hi nothing that he borrowed. ' Why then, sir,' observ ed Derrick, ' it may be very justly said, you have ios half your memory.' 187. A gentleman, who had had several wives, pai< his addresses to a widow lady at Bath ; and it being remarked that he was a great duellist, " Then," sai< Derrick, " the match will be the more a propos, fo the lady has killed her man." DESMAH1S, A French poet and dramatist of considerable note He was no less excellent for his talents as a writer than his amiable qualities as a man. 188. He hated quarrels between men of letters FLOWERS OF WIT. 71 ome person observed to him, that the number of men r letters was very small in comparison with the bulk f mankind. ' If harmony,' said he, ' reigned among lem, small as their number is, they would lead the ublic opinion, and be the masters of the world.' 189. ' When a friend laughs,' said he, ' it is- for im to disclose the subject of his joy ; when he weeps, is for me to discover the cause of his sorrow.' 190. He expressed himself fully gratified with ele- ant and refined society, and no feeling of envy or am- otion embittered his enjoyments. ' Content,' said e, ' to pass? my time in the circle of friendship, form d by the most illustrious men of the age, I have m> nxiety to be placed near them in the temple of fame.' DIOGENES. Diogenes, as a disciple of Antisthenes the founder if the Cynic sect of philosophers, assumed the privi- ege of saying and doing whatever he pleased. In al- usion to the name of cynic, it may be said of him, hat he did not fawn like a spaniel, but barked like i mastiff. What was the elevation of his mind or his ndifference to wealth, pomp, and power, may be in- erred from his reply to Alexander the Great ; and -vhat was the high estimation in which that monarch :ield him, is equally clear from the same conversation. 191. Alexander the Great saw Diogenes sitting at the entrance of his tub, and basking in the sun. ' What benefit can I confer upon you ?' said the potent sove- reign. * Stand,' said Diognes, 'out of the way, and prevent me not from enjoying the sun-shine.' Admir- ing the independent spirit that suggested this reply, Alexander said, 'If I were not Alexander, I should wish to be Diogenes.' 192. Diogenes being asked, of what beast the bite 7$ FtOWERS OF WlT most dangerous, answered, * Of wild beasts, il|ty bite of a slanderer ; of tame, that of a flatterer 193. When Aristippus returned from the court Dionysius, he said to Diogenes, * If you knew ho to flatter kings, you need not live upon herbs.' 1 which Diogenes replied, ' It you knew how to live ( herbs, you need not flatter kings.' r SOI 194. A sophist, wishing to give a specimen of h acute reasoning to Diogenes, argued with him thus 1 What I am thou art not.' * Granted,' said Diogene The sophist proceeded, ' I am a man, therefore the art not a man.' The cynic replied, ' Begin from rip and I will not dispute the soundness ot your concii sion.' DIONYSIUS II. t The cruelty of his disposition was not allayed by th presence of the great philosopher Plato, whom he ir vited to his court. He showed, however, in his revers of fortune, the benefit he bad derived from his instruc tions. 195. Soon after he was expelled from Syracuse, Greek asked him with a sneer, * Of what service i the philosophy of Plato to you now V ' It assists me, he replied, 'to beholdithe vicissitudes of fortune withoii astonishment, and to suffer her severities without com plaint.' 19G. Philip king of Macedon asked htm, with | sneer, how his father the elder Dionysius had founc Jeisure to compose odes and tragedies. ' You seem, said Dionysius, ' to make a difficulty of wlfcit is easj to be explained. He composed them in those hours which you and I consume in drinking and gaming.' 197. After his expulsion from Syracuse, a Coiin- FLOWERS OF WIT. to Aian came into his presence designing to ridicule him •r the loss of his crown ; and so shook his robe, to low that he had no arms concealed under it, a cere- mony observed when a person came into the royal Presence : but Dionysius, perceiving the drift of this Tiockery, retorted the joke upon the jester. 'My « iend, said he, ' thy ceremony is premature ; rather lake., thy c-oak when thou art going out :' Dionysius ,ius giving him to understand, that he thought him a G'kely person to carry something away that was not his nrn. JEROM DONATO. 198. When this noble Venetian was sent ambassa- or from Venice to pope Julius II., who asked for the tie of his republic to the sovereignty of the Adriatic 3a/ Your holiness,' said he, 'will find the grant f the Adriatic written at the back of the original re- ordof Constantine's donation to pope Sylvester of the ity of Rome, and other territories to the church.' Phis reply was particulary spirited at a period when was so dangerous to dispute the authenticity of this ritof donation, that, in 1478, several persons had been ondemned to the flames at Strasburg for expressing oubts of it. JOHN DRYDEN. He was the great refiner of English versification, and howed Pope the road to poetical excellence. He pas the Proteus of authors ; he bent the rules of cril- cism to all kinds of poems, wrote panegyrics upon the lost unworthy patrons, — a Danby and a Rochester ; nd fashioned his religious creed to the varying times »-to Charles II., he was a protestant, and to his suc- cessor a pa^t. His conduct ought perhaps to be al ributed to nis indigence, or his fear of indigence, atherthan to any natural servility of disposition, Haa 74 FLOWERS OF WIT. he been at liberty to indulge his inclination, he proba bly would have given more specimens of the subhm ty of his genius. Moderate praise would ratber dk> parage, than do justice to his Alexander » Feast. 1 is the noblest poem of the kind the world ever saw. 199. Lady Elizabeth Dryden, one morning, bavin come int© his study at an unseasonable time, when h was intently employed in some composition, and find ing her husband did not attend to her, exclaimec ' 5lr Dryden, you are always poring upon these mui ty books ; I wish I was a book, a»id then 1 shoul have more of your company.' ' Well, my dear,' re plied the poet, ' when you do become a book, pra Jet it be an almanack ; for then at the end of the yea I shall lay you quietly on the shelf, and shall be abl to pursue my studies without interruption ' 200. He said, ' 1 naturally withdraw my sigh from a precipice ; and, admit the prospect be neve so large and goodly, can take no pleasure even in look ing on the downfall, though I am secure from the dan ger. Metbinks there is something of a malignant jo; in that excellent description of Lucretius, Suave mar mazno, &c. I am sure his master Epicurus, and m] better master Cowley, preferred the solitude of a gar den and the conversation of a friend to any considera tion, and even to the regard, of those unhappy peoph whom, in our own wrong, we call the great, i can b( contented with an humbler station in the temple o virtue, than to be set on. the pinnacle of it." In his easy but forcible manner, he thus character ised Shakspeare : — 201. " Shakspeare among all the writers of our na tion may stand himself as a phoenix, the first and las of his order : in whom bounteous nature wonderfull} supplied all, the parts of a great poet .|pd excellen orator ; and of whom alone one may venture boldly Ic say, that had he had more learning, perhaps he migh' have been less of a poet." FLOWERS OF WIT. 7£ 202. When the prince of Orange came to England, t the time of the Revolution, five of the seven bish- ps who had been sent to the Tower declared in his ivour, and the two others would not conform to his leasures. When D ry.de n heard of this, he said, * that men golden candlesticks had been sent to the Tower o be assayed, and Jive ot them proved to be prince's ietal " 203. A young- nobleman just come from seeing bis lay of Cleomenes, told him, in raillery against the :ontinuence of his principal character,' 1. If I had been eft alone with a fair lady, 1 should not have passed iy time like your Spartan hero." " That may be," nswered the poet with a very grave face ; " forgive ae leave to tell you, sir, you are no hero." 204. He was one of the few poets who had the udgment to form a due comparative estimate of his ivvn works. He said, " I am glad to hear that my )de for Cecilia's day is esteemed the best of all my >oetry by all the town. I thought so myself when I vrote it ; but, being old, I mistrusted my own judg n.ent." He was then sixty-seven years of age. 205. Dryden's description of wit is excellent " A thousand different shapes wit wears, Comely in thousand shapes appears ; Tis n t a tale, 'tis not a jest. Admir'd with laughter at a feast; Nor florid talk, which can this title gain,— The proofs of wit for ever must remain."" QUEEN ELIZABETH, She was the most accomplished woman of her age, md often spoke with as much spirit and dignity as she tcted 20R. She evaded giving a direct answer to a the$k>" 76 FLOWERS OF WIT. gical question, respecting the sacrament of the Lord Supper, with admirable address. On being asked b, a popish priest whether she allowed the real pre sence, she replied, — 14 Christ was the word that spake it, He took the bread and break it, And what that word did make it, That I believe, and take it." 207. Sir Walter Raleigh having written on a win dow, ft Fain would I climb, yet fear I to fall :" The instant she saw it, she wrote under it, " If thy heart fail thee, climb not at all." 208 A greater instance of promptitude, and tha too in Latin, was her extempore reply to the insolen commands delivered to her from Philip II., by his am bassador, in these lines : — u Te, veto, nepergas bello defendere Belgas; Qua Dracus eripuil, nunc reslituantur, oporlet; Quas pater evertit, jubeo te condere cellos ; Religio Papccfac restituatur ad unguem? She instantly answered with heroic spirit, " Ad Gr&cas, bone rex,Jiant mandata, calendas." 209. Whether she was sufficiently constant in hei attachments to her friends, and behaved with due magnanimity to her enemies, may be questioned. Bui, certain it is, her reputation stood so high in the reigr of her successor, from the marked contrast of char acter, that it was common to hear people talk of kin§, Elizabeth and queen James. FLOWERS OF WIT. 77 210. The queen set the greatest value upon Wil- im Cecil lord Burleigh : she made him secretary of ite and lord treasurer, and esteemed him her ablest inister. When he was sick of the gout at Burleigh- >use in the Strand, she visited him ; and being much commoded with her lofty head-attire then in fashion, rd Burleigh's servant, as he conducted her through e door, said, ' May your highness be pleased to )op.' The queen answered, ' For your master's ke I will stoop, but not for the king of Spain.' le always made lord Burleigh sit down in her pres- ice, saying, ' My lord, we make use of you, not for >ur bad legs, but for your good head. 1 .211. When Philip II. of Spain equipped the invin- ble armada which threatened England with invasion, lizabeth appeared on horseback at the camp at Til- ury ; and riding through the ranks of her army with i air which expressed the coolness and intrepidity of 2r mind, she exhorted her soldiers to remember their uty, their country, and their religion. ' I will rny- ;!f,' said this heroic queen, ' lead you to the enemy, they dare to land in this realm. I know I have only ie weak arms of a woman ; but I have the heart of a ing ; and, what is more, of a king of England. Be- eve me, 1 will rather die in battle, than live to see ie ruin and slavery of my country 1' 212. Elizabeth placed dissimulation among the qual- ies necessary for sovereigns. A bishop once took the berty to represent to her, that in a particular instance ie had acted more like a politician than a christian. I see plainly, my lord,' said she, ' by your remark, lat although you may be well acquainted with the ther parts of the Scriptures, you have never read lie Books of Kings.'* 213. Queen Elizabeth seeing a gentleman in her arden, wko had not been honoured by her favours so oon as he expected, to looking out of her window. 78 FLOWERS OF WIT. said to him in Italian, What does a man think of, Edward, when he thinks of nothing ?' The answer w ' He thinks, madam, of a woman's promise.' T queen drew back her head ; but was heard to s; ' Well, sir Edward, I must not argue with you : anj makes dull men witty, but it keeps them poor.' THOMAS ELLWOOD, An intelligent and learned Quaker, who was honoi ed by the inti nate friendship of Milton. He used read to Milton various authors in the learned languag and thus contributed as well to his own improveme as to solace the dark hours of the poet when he had h his sight by an affection ot the optic nerves callec gutta serena. 214. 4 The curious ear of John Milton,' said E wood in his own life, * could discover by the tone my voice, when I did not clearly understand wha read ; and on such occasions he would stop to exami me, and open the difficult passages.' 216. Milton lent Ell wood the manuscript of Paradi Lost to read. When he returned it, Milton asked hiij how he liked it. ' I like it much,' said the judicio Quaker: 'thou hast written well and said much Paradise Lost ; but what hast thou to *ay of Paradi! Found? Milton made no answer, but sat musing f some time. When business afterwards drew Ellwot to London, he called on Milton, who showed him tl' poem of Paradise Regained ; and in a pleasant toi said to his friend, ' This is owing to you ; for you pn it into my head, by the question you asked me Charlfont, which before I had not thought of.' ELOQUENCE. 216. Eloquence must be adapted to occasions an persons, or it is good for nothing. It may be judge. FLOWERS OF WIT. 79 f by its effects. ' What a charming speech have we ?arn to the archbishop of the number of executions for iminal offences. ' I maintain,' said he, ' that such iminals are unfit to live-' ' But, my friend,' said >neIon, ' you do not reflect, that they are still more ifit to die.' FERDINAND, KING OF SPAIN. 232. Ferdinand, king of Spain, used to say, ' that could distinguish a wise man from a fool by the llowing marks : Moderation in anger, government in usehold affairs, and writing a letter without useles petitions.' GONZALO FERNANDEZ. 233. Gonzalo Fernandez de Cordova, surname^ i Great Captain, passed often by the door of two imsels, daughters of a poor gentlemen, and as often pressed his admiration of their beauty, which was perlative. The father hearing of this, thought that 34 FLOWERS OF WIT. it would be a fair occasion of mending his fortune, an went to the Great Captain and askedhim for some o fice out of the town The Great Captain understam ing him that he intended to leave his house, in ord< to give him free access to the fair damsels, asked bin * What family have you ?' The gentleman answerei 4 Two young daughters.' ' Stay,' said the Great Ca\ tain, ' and I will give you portions for them :' and, ei tering a closet, he brought out two purses, each cor taining a thousand ducats of gold. 4 Here,' said he ' one of these will provide for your two daughter and the other will provide for j T ourself. Heaven fo bid their innocence should lose the protection of thei father !' DANIEL DE FOE. 234. This author has been very cruelly treated. 1 does not appear what provocation he gave to Pope t stigmatise him in the Dunciad in the following line * Earless on high, stood unabashM De Foe.' That he stood in the pillory in the year 1702, for a sup posed libel, called ' The Shortest Way with the Dis senters,' is a fact that cannot be denied. But that h< lost his ears when he suffered this disgrace, is not si clear. He was the author of a work, which will b< read long after the Dunciad is forgotten, and which i better worth reading than any thing Pope ever wrote — that work is Robinson Crusoe. But a greater injury has been done to the memon of De Foe, by the prevailing tradition, that he go possession of the manuscripts of Alexander Selkirk who had lived for several years upon the uninhabitec island of Juan Fernandez, and that he published thesi manuscripts as his own. Now the fact is, the story o Alexander Selkirk is included in the account of captan Woodes Rodger's Voyage round the World, and tha voyage was published in the year 1712. But the firs FLOWERS OF WIT. 85 t of Robinson Crusoe was not published till seven ars after, that is, in the year 1719, an interval am- e enough for so rapid a writer as De Foe to have mposed a much longer narrative. The leading occurrence, of a sailor living alone on remote island, is indeed the same both as related in ptain Rogers' Voyage, and in De Foe's romance ; it the whole tenour ot the story, the adventures and e reflections in Robinson Crusoe, are perfectly ori- ia!, and are the productions of a man blessed with most happy invention. How comprehensive and rrect must his knowledge of the human mind ve been, who could compose a work that is found to equally pleasing, or rather irresistibly captivating, h persons of both sexes and of all countries, ages, d conditions of life ! The anecdote of the worthy alderman of Oxford,* 1 similar to a story told by Horace in one of his Epis- 2s:~ At Argos liv'd a citizen well known, Who long ima°;in'd that he heard the tone Of deep tragedians on an empty stage, And sat applauding in ecstatic rag;e ; In other points, a person wh^ maint^in'd A due decorum, and a life unstain'd. He, when his friends, with much expense and pains, Had amply purz"d with helleb^ his brains, Said, ' friends, 'twere betfe%ou had sfopt my breath . Your love was rancour, and your cure was death, To rob me thus of pleasure so refin'd, The dear delusion of a raptur'd mind.' Francis'' Horace. A story of the same kind is related by Aristotle, of lative of Abydos. * See page 68. 86 FLOVURS OF WIT. FONTENELLE. 235. He reached the very advanced age of ninetj nine years, and continued his literary pursuits to | last. Lord Orrery, in a letter written From Marstc near Glastonbury in Somersetshire, very beautiful said, ' Fontenelle, like our neighboring thorn, blossor in the winter of his days.' Voltaire pronounced hi to be the most universal genius of the age of Loi XIV. 236. A person of quality called upon Fontenelle, at found him in a very bad humour. ' What is the mi ter V said he. * The case is this,* said the philos< pher ; ' I have only one servant, and 1 am waited up< as badly as you are who have twenty.' 237. Fontenelle was probably the only man ev< known to say, at a very advanced age, * Was I to b gin again my mortal career, I would do exactly as have done.' 238. The duchess of Maine, a lady of great wit at accomplishments, asked some of her company one da; who were persons of wit, l What is the difference br tween me and a clqcW>' They were all much at a lo. for an answer. WhM Jontenelle entered the roou the same question being put to him, he instantly n plied, * The difference between you and a clock | this : a clock marks the hours, but your grace makt us forget them.' 239. A physician observed to Fontenelle, that coffe kills by a slow poison ' Yes, very slow indeed, ai swered the philosopher smiling ; ' for I have taken every day for these fourscore years past, and am alh still.' FLOWERS OF WIT. 87 SAMUEL FOOTE. 240 He was justly entitled the English Aristophanes, he indulged in the licentiousness of the old Greek nely, and introduced the characters of living per- is upon the stage. He deserved applause for his t, and castigation for his personalities. His wit and )llery were wont to set the table on a roar ; and as •roof how facetious a companion he was, Dr. Johnson ose risible muscles were not remarkable for their ribility, and came into his company determined not be pleased with him, declared * that he found Foote esistiblc.' 241. Foote and Garrick were at a tavern togther, at > time when the gold coin was regulated. Foote tak- ; out his purse to pay his reckoning, asked Garrick at he should do with a light guinea. ' Pshaw ! it is rth nothing,'' said Garrick ; ' so fling it to the devil.' Veil David,' said Foote, 'you are an ingenious fel- v, as I always thought you ; ever contriving to make ;uinea go farther than any other man.' 142. The late duke of Norfolk was remarkably fond his bottle. On a masquerade night, he consulted ote as to what character he should appear in. ' Don't disguised,' said Foote, 4 but assume a new character; sober. !43. Foote once walking with a friend, met a beg- ■ who very earnestly solicited their charity. His md refused ; and, on Foote giving him a few pence, i, ■ I believe you are duped, for I am morally cer- i the fellow is an impostor.' ' He is either the most tressed man, or the best actor, I ever saw in my life,' •lied Foote ; ' and, either as the one or the other, has a brotherly claim upon me.' CHARLES FOX 244. Was never at a loss for a repartee. During 88 FLOWERS OF WIT. a Westminster election, when he was opposed by s Cecil Wray, one of the adverse party, when a dead c was thrown upon the hustings, observed, that it smel ed worse than a Fox. ' That is not at all extraordin ry,' said Fox, ' considering it is a^oZe-cat.' 245. Some person asked him what was the meanir of that passage in the Psalms, ' he clothed himself w? cursing, like as with a garment ?' ' The meaning, sa he ' I think, is clear enough ; the man had a habit swearing.' 246. On a consultation of the minority membei previous to an important question being brought ft ward by the ministry in the house of commons, it w asked, who would be a proper person to move tl amendment. Mr. Fox replied, ' Saddle Black Surre for the field to-morrow.' 247. Lord North exulting over Fox on the public tionof a Gazette oxtraordinary, to announce that Ne York was conquered ; Fox observed, ' It is a mistak sir : New York is not conquered, it is only, like t! ministry, abandoned.' 248. Burke and Fox supping one evening togetlr at the thatched House, were served with some dish more elegant than usual. Fox's appetite happen! to be rather keen, he by no means relished the lig dainties before him ; but, addressing his companio said, ' My good friend, these dishes are well suited your taste, as they are both sublime and beautiful? FRANCIS THE FIRST. lish. 249. This monarch entertained a great rega Leonardo da V T inci, and invited that accompl painter to leave Milan and settle in France. Havi then reached seventy years of age, he fell sick. T king, who was sensible of his extraordinary mei FLOWERS OF WIT. ;ry frequently went to visit him. When some of his •urtiers expressed their surprise, that so great a mon- ch should deign to pay so much attention to an hum- e artist, a man of no rank or family ; Francis thus enced their haughty objections : ' fee not surprised the honour I pay to this admirable painter, but am to make a right estimate of his value — and your vn. I can make any day 1 please such lords as you, it God alone can make such a man as Leonardo da inci. 5 250. Francis,!., after losing the battle of Pavia, in lich he was taken prisoner by Charles V., wrote to i mother in these terms : ' Madam, we have lost ery thing except our honour.' 251. Francis I. consulting with his generals, how to id his army over the Alps into Italy, Amarel his fool rang from a corner, and advised him to consult rath- — how to lead it back. 252. Francis was the first monarch who introduced lies at his court. He said, in a style of true gal- itry, ' that a drawing-room without ladies, was like i year without the spring ; or rather, like the spring thout flowers.' DR. FRANKLIN. 253. A young American having broken an appoint- :nt with Dr. Franklin, came to him the following day spared to make his peace with a studied apology. ! was proceeding at a tiresome length, introducing th much ingenuity, but at the expense of truth, a va- ty of reasons for his want of punctuality ; when Dr. anklm stopped him : ' My dear boy, say no more, u have indeed said too much already ; for he who is good at making an excuse, is seldom good at anv ng else ' 90 FLOWERS OF WIT. FREDERICK OF PRUSSIA. 254. As he was walking in the gardens of Sans Souc with Mr. D'Alembert, he said to him, ' Do you see tha old woman, a poor weeder, asleep on that sunny bank — she is probably a more happy being than either o 255. A lady of fashion complimented him in sucl high terms, that he was rather disgusted than please< with her flattery. She said, among other things, Tha he was covered with glory, was the peace-maker o Europe, and the greatest monarch upon earth. ' Mad am,' replied the king, ' you are as handsome as an an gel ; witty, accomplished, and enchanting ; in short, yot possess all admirable qualities — but you paints FURET1ERE. u 256. Benserade was once at a meeting of French Academy, and took the chair of Furetiere whom he disliked ; and said, as he was sitting down 1 This is a place from which you naturally expect tman who ground his colours, who was ugliness itself, sit down before him, and painted the most beautiful -nale head that could be imagined. * So,' said he the astonished friend of Guercino, ' relate what you ve seen me do ; and be assured, that when an artist s his head filled with fine ideas, he wants no other )del than such a one as you see before me.' ADMIRAL HADDOCK. R^he family o£ the Haddocks were remarkable for ir eminent services at sea. The grandfather, father d son, had medals given them at one and the same ne, for their gallant behaviour in a general action ainst the Dutch. 278. When admiral sir Richard Haddock was dying, called his son, and said to him, 'Considering my nk in life, and public services for so many years, 1 Sail leave you but a small fortune ; but, my dear boy, 8was honestly got, and will wear well ; there are no iamen's wages or provisions ; not one single penny of Irty money in it.' THE EARL OF HALIFAX. |279. At the beginning of the revolution in 16G8' veral persons of rank, who had been very active and rviceable in bringing about that event, but who had great abilities, applied for some of the most consid- able employments under government. The earl of ilifax being consulted on the propriety of admitting ese claims, ' I remember,' said he, ' to have read in 98 FLOWERS OE WIT. history, that Rome was saved by geese ; but I doi recollect that any of them were made consuls.' HANNIBAL. 280. Fabius Maximus cautiously avoided coming j a general action with him, and exhausted his patien by protracting the war. Fabius encamped upon j mountains ; but Terentius, his colleague, rashly figl jng with Hannibal, Fabius was obliged to descend fro his lofty station. He rescued Terentius, and drove tl Carthagenians back with great loss. * The cloud: said Hannibal, ' which have been so long hoverii over the mountains, have at length broke, and produ ed a violent storm.' 281. In a conference with Scipio Africanus, he tal ed of the greatest generals. Scipio asked whom thought the first in the world. He aftswered, ' Ale ander the Great.' ' And the second ?' ' Pyrrhus, ki of Epirus.' ' And the third ?' ' Myself,' said Hannib; * Suppose you had conquered me,' said Scipio, ' whe: would you have placed yourself?' 'I should ha placed myself first,' was the reply. What must have thought of Scipio, who vanquished him ! 282. Antiochus, king of Syria, showed Hannibal tl large army he had raised to fight against the Romar He drew out in review before him the foot soldiei glittering with gold and silver, and the cavalry capai soned with purple trappings. The vain-glorious mo arch beheld Hannibal surveying all this pompous p. rade in silence, and presuming upon his approbate said, ' Do you not think that such troops as these w be enough for the Romans.' ' Yes,' said Hannib* who well knew how to estimate show without strengt ' they will be enough for the Romans, if the Roma were even ten times more avaricious than they are.' FLOWERS OF WlT. 99 SIR JOHN HARRINGTON, 283. Now chiefly known as the translator of Ariosto's rlando Furioso. He was distinguished in the court Elizabeth for his wit and gallantry. He was the [artial of the day, as he published a book of neat aigrams. His royal mistress was pleased with his oetry. On his return from Ireland, and not long be- »re her death, sir John relates, that ' she bade the chbishop ask me (at the time when the fate of Essex jng heavy upon her mind,) if I had seen Tyrone. I plied, that I had seen him with the lord deputy Es- x. She looked up, with much grief in her counten- vce, and said, ' O now il mindeih me that you was ie, who saw this manne elsewhere ;' and hereat she ropped a tear, and smote hf.r bosom. She held in her md a golden cuppe, which she often put to her ppes ; but in sooth her heart seemeth too full to lack ore flllinge * * *. Her majesty inquired of some atters which 1 had written ; and as she was pleased i note my fanciful braine, I was not unheedtui to feede ?r humoure, and reade some verses, whereat she smil- d once, and was pleased to saie.— ■' When thou dosfe e\e creepyinge time at thy gate, these fooleries will lease thee lesse. I am past my relishe for such mat- :rs ; thou seest my bodie meate doth not suit me well, have eaten but one ill-tasted cake since yesternight.' ' -Extract of a Letter from Sir John to his Lady, Dec* \ 1602. HENRY HEADLEY. 284. He was the author of 'Select Beauties of an- ent English Poetry,' and of some delightful poems. is conversation like his writings, was lich in pointed «iarks, and enlivened with flashes of wit. Being ask- 1 the literary character of Ken Johnson, ' He suow- i,' said Headly, ' the patience of a drudge and the at- inments of a pedant, but rarely the originality of a an of genius : and from his constant habit of walk- 100 FLOWERS OF WIT. ing on the stilts of authority and prescription, he so lost the free use of his legs.' 285. Speaking of an injudicious abridgment Quarles's Emblems, put into modern language, he e claimed," Alas, poor Quarles, how are you disguis and degraded ! This is like chaining Columbus to oa r, or making John duke of Marlborough a train- ba corporal." 286. Headley, although not so enthusiastic an adm cr of Virgil as his friend Benwell, yet was very foi of all his original beauties. ' There are delicate louc es, and discriptions of Virgil,' said Headley, 'whi even the most skilful painter cannot represent, ai which have escaped the observation of many of tl commentators, and probably of more than one critk On being called upon for an instance, he repeated tl following lines : — * Vide Hecuban. scntumque nurus, Priamumque per an Sanguine f&danlem quos ipse sacra verat, ignes.' ' It is remarkable,' added he, 'that Dr. Blair, in h lectures, expressly selected this passage, as an ii stance of Virgil's talents for poetical description ; bi| this exquisite beauty, the quos ipse sacraverat igncs, h has omitted to notice.' This remark was thought b| the company present, to be worthy of the refined tasl! and acumen of Quintilian, or Joseph Warton. DR. HENNEKER. 287. Lord Chath am asked Dr. Henneker for a d< scription of wit. 'My lord,' said he, 'wit is lit what a pension would be, if given by your lordship your humble servant — a good thing well applied.' FLOWERS OF WIT. 101 HENRY IV- The French, 'before their mincte were poisoned by the istilent follies of the Revolution, entertained [■ none of their kings a greater regard than for Hen- IV. This predilection was founded upon just bunds ; for he was affable, generous, and brave ; d had a capacity equally well adapted to peace or tr. Aided by the sagacious councils of the duke of lly, his friend and minister, he laid the found- on of that grandeur to which the French empire af- •wards rose. He made many a jocose, and many a inted speech ; but never expressed himself in terms malignity. 288. When he was dangerously ill, in the year 98, he said to Sully : 'My friend, I have no fear of ath ; you have seen me face it a hundred times ; t I regret losing my life before I have been able, by verning my subjects well, and easing their burthens, convince them that I love them as much as I do my 'n children.' 289. Immediately before the battle of Ivri in 1590. nry rode along the ranks of his army, and showed soldiers his helmet, surmounted with a plume ot lite feathers, and said, with an ardour which he immunicated : 'My children, look here ; if your mdards are lost, this is the rallying point ; this will id you to victory and glory.' 290. After this battle, in which he was victorious, ; jewels, and rich dresses of the duke de Joyeuse, neral of the Catholics, were brought to him ; but he clined to' accept them, saying in a true spirit of a ro, 'It is the part of players to be vain of their rich isses ; but the true ornaments of a general are, jrage and presence of mind in battle, and moderation er a victory.' 291. He was once troubled with a fit of the gout ; 9 102 FLOWERS OF WIT. and the Spanish ambassador coining then to visit hi and saying he was very sorry to see his majesty lame ; he answered, ' As lame as I am, if there be < casion, your master, the king of Spain, shall no sooi have his foot in the stirrup, than he shall find me horseback.' 292. Henry IV. said to a Spanish ambassador, ' the king your master continues his aggressions, I ; resolved to take up arms ; and I shall soon reach W drid.' ' So you may, sir,' said the ambassador ; ' I recollect that Francis I. was there before you.' ' F that very reason,' retorted Henry, ' I will go there avenge his wrongsand my own.' 293. The testimony given to the martial abilities Henry IV. by the duke of Parma, one of the great generals of his age, was very characteristic of keenness of his views, and the velocity of his mo« ments. ' Other generals,' said the duke, ' carry on w like lions and tigers ; but Henry carries it on like eagle.' 294. The magistrates of Paris received orders entertain the ambassadors from the Swiss Cantoi As this was likely to be a great expense, they ask, leave of Henry to lay a tax upon the cisterns ai pumps, in order to defray it. ' I beg,' said the co, siderate monarch, ' you will find some other method; feast my allies ; do you not know that it is the excl. sive privilege of our blessed Saviour to change wat into wine ?' 295. When a person endeavoured to convince hii that his excessive clemency in pardoning all his en mies would prove injurious, he observed, 'You m; catch more flies with a spoonful of honey, than with (on of vinegar.' 29:3. Henry IV. walked one day with the duke < FLOWERS OF WIT. 103 iayenne, who had disputed his right to the crown of ranee, and made war against him. The duke was >rpulent, and a very bad walker ; and the king en- yed tiring him, by making him walk fast for a con- derable time : when the king at last stopped, he said the duke with his usual pleasantry, * Cousin, we are >w even ; I have had my revenge.' [297. Henry hearing it observed, that James I. of ngland was a second Solomon, ' True,' said he, ' I ink he is the son of David the fiddler,' alluding to avid Rizzio. 298. Henry received congratulations from the depu- ;s of the parliament of Paris for a victory he had ined. The king directed their attention to the mar- al de Biron, who had greatly contributed to his suc- ss. ' Gentlemen,' said the king, * this is the hero iom I present with equal pleasure to my friends and I my enemies.' 299. He was as intrepid as he was affable and fa- tious. His friends were alarmed for his safety, and rnonstrated with him, that in the midst of conspira- 5, he ought to take more care of his person, and not out so frequently alone, or at least not so ill attend- ' Fear,' said he, ought never to have a place in a yal mind. Those who fear death will never attempt r life ; and those who despise life, will always be sters of mine, although a thousand guards were set prevent them. None but tyrants ought to live in nstant fear.' JOHN HEYWOOD. He was a favourite at court, both in the reign of Hen- VIII. and Queen Mary, as a poet and a jester. He s one of the first who wrote English plays. J00. He wrote a work called ' The spider and the 104 FLOWERS OP WIT. Fly, a Parable,' in 1556. It contains no less thai seventy-seven chapters : at the beginning of every on of these chapters is a portrait of the author, eithc standing or sitting before a table, with a book upon i and a window near it hung round with cobwebs, flit and spiders. Can there be found in the annals of authorship, a instance of such consummate vanity ? 301. Queen Mary asked him, ' what wind blew hii to court.' He answered, ' He was blown there by hv winds ; one was to see your majesty.' ' We than, you for that,' said the queen ; ' but pray tell me, whj was the other ?' ' the other,' said he, ' was, that yoi majesty might see me.' 302. When he saw a gentleman riding with a lady (, doubtful character sitting behind him, he said, ' Truh sir, I should say that your horse was overloaded, if* did not perceive that the lady you carry is very light 303. When it was observed, that the number of law yers would ruin the profession, ' By no means,' said hi k for the more spaniels in the field, the more game.' 304. Dining one day with a gentleman whose beti was better hopped than malted, the gentleman aske Hey wood, how he liked his beer. ' By the faith of in body !' said he, ' it is very well hopped ; but if it hal hopped a little further, it had hopped into the water.' 305. He compared severe critics upon the works < authors, ' to those unmannerly guests, who, when thei have been well and kindly feasted, flinch away, nevt giving thanks, but dispraising and depraving the courteous entertainment.' BISHOP HOUGH. 30G. A young gentleman, whose family had heei, FLOWERS OF WIT, 105 ill acquainted with Dr. John Hough, bishop of Wor- ter, in making the tour of England, called to pay his pects to his lordship as he passed by his seat in the mtry : it happened to be dinner time, and the room I of company. The bishop, however, received him :h great familiarity ; but the servant, in reaching him hair, threw down a curious weather-glass, that had j>t twenty guineas, and broke it. The gentleman was ier infinite concern, and began to excuse the servant, i make an apology for being himself the occasion of accident ; when the bishop, with great good nature grrupted him : ' Be not under any .concern,' said he, iling ; ' for I am much beholden to you for it. We ve had a very dry season, and now I hope we shall ve rain. I never saw the glass so low in my life !' The bishop was at that time more than fourscore, le combination of so great an age, with such perfect od humour was surely admirable. HENRY HOWARD. p07. He was earl of Northampton, and lord privy id to king James I. The king took great delight in (inverting with him at his table. The king asked him ion a sudden ; ' My lord, have you not a desire to fe Rome?' The earl answered, 'Yes indeed, sir.' he king said, ' And why V The earl answered, ' Be- luse it was the seat of the greatest monarchy, and the ninary of the bravest men in the world, whilst it was athen ; and then, secondly, because afterwards it is the see of so many holy bishops in the primitive urch, most of them martyrs.' The king would not ve over the conversation, and said, ' And for nothing ?e ?' The earl answered ; , ' Yes, for two things Dre ; the one, to see him who, they say, has so great power to forgive other men their 6ins ; and the other, hear anti-christ say his creed.' 1308. When peace was renewed with the French in [igland, several of the great counsellors were present- 9* 106 FLOWERS OF WIT. ed by the French with jewels ; but the lord Henrj Howard, although a counsellor, was omitted. Where upon the king- said to him, ' My lord, how happens i thai you have not a jewel as well as the rest ?' Upor which question, my iord answered, with an admirabh equivoque, alluding to the well-known fable in iEsop jYon sum Gallus, itaque non reperi gemmam . HOWARD THE PHILANTHROPIST. 309. He had several interviews with Joseph II. em peror of Germany. ^Howard took the freedom to com plain of the comfortless and unwholesome state of tin Austrian and Hungarian prisons. The emperor, whi valued himself upon a code of penal laws more effica cious but less sanguinary than the English, was nettled and replied : ' I don't use the prisoners worse than yoi do in England, where you hang them up by dozens a; a time.' ' Very true,' replied Howard ; ' but permit me to assure your majesty, that I had rather be hangea in England, than live in your German dungeons.' He soon took his leave. * In truth,' said the emperor tc prince Kaunitz, ' this Englishman is no flatterer.' LORD HUNSDON. 310. Lord Hunsdon, a distinguished nobleman in the court of Queen Elizabeth, said, ' To have the courage to notice an affront, is to be upon a level with an adver- sary : to have the charity to forgive it, is to be above him.' JOHN HUNTER. 311. The celebrated John Hunter was a man of such wonderful diligence, that he has often told his friends, that for thirty years, summer and winter, the sun nevei found him in bed. He used to say, * I never have any difficulties ; a thing either can be done, or it cannot. If it can be done. 1 mav do it a," well as another, if FLOWERS OF WIT. 107 I take equal pains. If it cannot be done, I will not sropt to do it.' A GRAND IDEA. 512. The chief of a small canton of Indians, upog banks of the Mississippi in Louisiana, every morn- as soon as he issues from his cabin, extending his n and moving it, says, ' Thus 1 trace the path which sun may describe in the course of the day.' POPE INNOCENT VII. 513. Andrea Marteneti, a celebrated artist, paint- by order of pope Innocent VII. the four Cardinal rtues, with their opposite Vices. The pope not re- rding him as he expected, he said, ' Holy father, II 1 paint one more vice, called Ingratitude ?* es,' answered the pope, ' if you add another virtue, ich is Patience.' SIR JOSEPH JEKYLL. 314. Two very lovely, but bashful girls, had a cause =ome importance depending at Westminster, that re- ared their personal appearance. They were relations sir Joseph Jekyll, and on this formidable occasion ;y desired his company and countenance at the court. Joseph attended accordingly ; and the cause being sned, the judge demanded, ' Whether he was to en- e these ladies spinsters.' 'No, my lord,' said sir seph, ' they are lilies of the valley ; they toil not, ther do they spin ; yet you see, that no monarch, in his glory, was ever arrayed like one of these.' DR. JOHNSON. 315. A young clergyman, very deficient in learning, nplahiing to Dr. Johnson, that some how or other he 103 FLOWERS OF WIT. had lost all his Greek ; ' I suppose/ said the docte ' it was at the time I lost my great estate in Yorkshire 316. The doctor treated Mrs. SiddoMs, when si called upon him in Bolt Court, with the most mark* politeness. Frank, his servant, could not immediately 'bring her a chair ; ' You see, madam,' said the doctor 4 wherever you go, how difficult it is to find seats. 317. While he was in the Isle of Mull, a very drearj and barren place, he saw something moving upor the ground, and asked Boswell what it was. ' A crow, was the answer. ' What !' said the doctor, ' have you wings, and do you stay here ?' 318. Dr. Johnson insisted upon the necessity of the subordination of rank in society. ' Sir,' said he to Mr Boswell, ' there is one Mrs. Macauley in this town, a great republican. One day, when I was at her house. I put on a very grave countenance, and said, ' Madam. I am become a convert to your system. To give you a decisive proof I am in earnest ; here is a very sensible, well-behaved fellow-citizen, your footman, I desire that he may he allowed to sit down and dine with us. She has never liked me since this proposal. Your lev- ellers wish to level down as far as themselves, but thej cannot bear levelling up to themselves. 319. W T hen he had finished a part of his tragedy o, Irene, he read some passages of it to his friend Mr. Walmsley, who was registrar of the spiritual court. Mr Walmsley objected to his having brought his heroine into great distress in a very early part of the play, and asked him, 'How can you possibly contrive tc plunge her into deeper calamity?' Johnson replied: 'Sir, I can put her into the spiritual court.' 320. Mr. Ogilvie, a Scotchman, diffuse in the praise; of his native country, assured Dr. Johnson that Scot land had a great many noble and wild prospect? FLOWERS OF WIT. 1 v 3 hnson,— ' I believe, sir. you have a great many. >rway too has noble wild prospects. But, sir, let me I you, the noblest prospect a Scotchman ever sees, is ; high road that leads him to England !' 321. The doctor, during his visits to Oxford, pas- d many hours with Mr. Thomas Warton in Trinity bflege , and was much pleased with the garden and Jrary there. Some person expressed his preference Christ-Church library. 'Sir,' said the doctor, 'you lygoto Christ-Church library to prance, but Trin- library is the place for study.'' 322. It was a favourite maxim of the doctor, that e pleasure of mental or bodily exertion was only in oportion to the reward that would attend it. Sir shua Reynolds talked to him of the gratification he dfelt in working hard to finish one of his pictures, me ladies were present at this conversation. 'Sir,' d Johnson, 'you had no pleasure in the mere work ; u were looking to the final cause, for which you led.' Then turning to the ladies in a courteous inner ; 'Possibly,' continued he, 'we may discuss is subject in a manner too abstruse to be intelligible all of you, ladies ; but, to make it more clear, you ive only to recollect, that it was not for the mere easure of swimming, that Leander was so often iuced to cross the Hellespont.' 323. Mr. Boswell talked to him of the expulsion o 5 six methodists from the university of Oxford. — hnson said, that their expulsion was just and proper. Vhat have they to do at an university, who are not lling to be taught, but will presume to teach ? Sir, ey were examined, and found to be mighty ignorant Hows.' Boswell, — ' But was it not hard, sir, to ex- 1 them ? for I am told they were good beings.' — hnson, — ' Sir, they might be good beings ; but they ire not fit to be in the university. A cow is a very od being in a field, but we turn her out of a garden? 110 FLOWERS OF wSt. 324. Mrs. Piozzi said df him, ' that his attention veracity was without equal or example : and when mentioned Clarissa as a perfect character, * On tl contrary,' said he, 'you may observe, there is alwa; something which she prefers to truth.' Fielding Amelia, in his opinion, was the most pleasing heroii of all romances.' 325. When the learned professions were talked of 1 Sco .>,' said he, ' to put your behaviour under tl dominion of canters. Never think it clever to c< physic a mean study, or law a dry one ; or ask a bat of seven years old, which way his genius leads hirr when we all know, that a boy of seven years old h no genius for any thing except a peg-top and an appl pie. But fix on some business where much money mi be got, and little virtue risked. Follow that busine steadily ; and do not live as Roger Ascham says tl wits do — ' Men know not how ; and at last die obscur ly. men mark not where.'' ' 326. The following most severe epigram is said i have been written by Dr. Johnson before he was pel sioned : " Augustus lives in Maro's polish'd strain, And Spenser's muse adorns Eliza's reign, The deeds of mighty George great Whitehead sing! God always forms the poets for the kings."' 327. A person endeavouring to prove to Dr. Johnsoi that an atheist may be a man of a good moral characte c Sir,' said the doctor, ' when a man rejects his alieg ance. to his great Creator, what has he to restrain hir from the perpetration of crimes? If an atheist was t drink tea with rae > I should look very carefully aftc< my spoons.' 320. He conversed with sir Joshua Reynolds upo. the subject of friendship. ' If a man,' said Johnsor : does not make new acquaintance, as he advances ii FLOWERS OF WIT. 1 1 1 I he will soon find himself alone. A man, sir, should ;ep his friendships in constant repair.' |329. Mrs. Thrale, who has endeavoured to display br own talents rather than to show off Dr. Johnson to [vantage in her account of him, was rather of a di- lutive size. One day she appeared in complete f, and solicited the or some time the doctor smiled at her vanity, ourning, and solicited the doctor's approbation of her id said nothing. Not deterred by his silence, she re- med the subject ; and repeatedly asked, ' What do >u think of my dress, doctor? what do you think ot y dress V ' Madam,' at length responded the doclor, our dress does not suit your figure : consider, you e an insect, and that of all insects the most gaily essed are the most agreeable to the eye.' SIR WILLIAM JONES. 330. Dr. Johnson, with justice, styled him * The DSt enlightened of the sons' of men.' He was distin- ished by his early great proficiency as a linguist, hen he was in France, he was introduced at the urt of Versailles with a curious speech. ' I inlro- ice to your majesty,' said the English ambassador to |e grand monarque, * a gentleman who understands i languages, except the native language of his father.' may be necessary to add, that his father was a elchman BEN JONSON . St. John's college, Cambridge, may boast of the nour of part of his education. After he left the urii- rsity, he passed through many occupations ; for he as a bricklayer, a soldier, a player, and amidst them a poet. 13 I. A vintner, to whom he was in debt, invited him dinner : and told him that if he would give him an 112 FLOWERS OF WIT. immediate answer to the following questions, he wool forgive him his debt. The vimner asked him, wh God is best pleased with ; what the devil is best plea ed with ; what the world is best pleased with ; ai what he was best pleased with. Ben, without the lea hesitation, gave the following reply; which, as anil proniotu, deserves no small share of praise : " God is be9t pleas'd, when men forsake their sin ; The devil's best pleas'd, when they persist therein ; The world's best pleas'd, when thou dost sell good win And you're best pleas'd, when I do pay for mine." JOSEPH II. EMPEROR OF GERMANS 332. He was a model of liberality, affability, ai condescension. When he was at Paris on a visit to fc sister the queen of France, in 1777, he honoured no oj with a visit who did not experience his condescend^ manners and his bounty. He frequently said to tho who were anxious to show their deference to his exal ! ed rank : * Be covered, you put me under restrain' put on your hat, or I shall take off mine. Go not to ti] door with me, your time is precious. Tell me t] truth, I seek to know it ; converse with me freely ; di guise nothing, for I wish to be informed.' 333. An old Austrian officer, who had a pension veil insufficient for the demands of his family, explained 1 the emperor his indigent situation, and entreated 1 j compassion ; saying that he had ten children alivj The emperor, wishing to know the truth of this repr sentation, went to the officer's house in disguise ; an instead of ten, found eleven children there. 'Til eleventh child,' said the old officer, ' is a poor orptu 1| that I took into my house from motives of compassion] The emperor immediately ordered a hundred florins | be given to each of the children. FLOWERS OF WIT. 113 KINGS OF ENGLAND WILLIAM RUFUS. 334. The monarch who built the Tower of London id Westminster Hall must have had magnificent ideas, (though he was neither eminent for wisdom nor good- ss, an instance is recorded of his intrepidity. He anted to go to sea in stormy weather, and the pilot of e vessel in which he embaiked expressed apprehen- ds of danger. He still persisted in his design. 'Did )u ever,' said he to the pilot, * hear of a king's being owned ?' RICHARD CGEUR DE LION. When Richard Coeur de Lion first proposed a voy- e to recover the Holy Land from the yoke of the in- lels, Fulke, curate of Newel ly a zealous preacher of crusades, advised the king to get rid of his three yourite daughters : Pride, Avarice, and Voluptuous- ss. 335. The king's answer well illustrates the charac- of the times. ' You counsel well,' said Richard ; ind I hereby dispose of the first to the knights tern- ars, of the second to the Benedictine monks, and of third to my prelates.' HENRY IV. OF ENGLAND. 33G. A servant of prince Henry, (afterwards Hen- V.) was arraigned before sir William Gascoigne, d chief justice of the King's Bench, for felony. The ince endeavoured to take his servant away, and came to the bench with such fury, that the beholders ught he would have struck the judge. But he kept seat, preserved his temper, and, without delay, tnmitted the prince prisoner to the King's bench, ere to remain till the pleasure of the king his father 10 114 FLOWERS OF WIT. should be known. An officious courtier ran to infoti the king, probably thinking to move his anger agair the lord chief justice for such an indignity offered the heir apparent ; but great was his surprise at t! ! king's observation. * I thank God,' said he, ' for I great goodness in giving me at the same time, a judj who has the courage to administer the laws, and a s who has the disposition to obey them.' HENRY VII. 337 Sir Robert D'mock, at the coronation of Hen VI i., came or horseback into 'Westminster Hall, whe the king dined, and casting his gauntlet on the groun challenged any one who dare question the king's rig to the crown. The k»ng, pretending he was a Strang to the custom of giving such a challenge, asked a sta £, ' thatyo work gives no offence.' ' Sir,' -eplied Leti, ' 1 will ( what lean ; but if a man were as wise as Solomon, 1 would scarce be able to avoid giving some offence ' Why then,' rejoined the king, l be as wise as Sol mon ; write proverbs, not histories.' 344. Utility only can give value to the exercise bodily as well as mental activity. When Charles I saw a man climb to the top of the flag-staff on the pinn cle of Salisbury spire. ' Odds fish !' said he, ' this m; shall have a patent, that nobody may do this but hit self.' 346. Of the climate of England, he used to sa 1 There were more days in the year, and more hours the day, that a man could take exercise out of dooi than in any country he had ever known.' 346. The duke of Buckingham gave this charact'i ef the two royal brothers, Charles and James ; ' Th the elder could see things, if he would ; and the youn; er would see things if he could.' 347. Lord Rochester said of Charles II., 'that I never said a foolish thing, and never did a wise one When the king was informed of this tart speech, whi< certainly conveyed tolerably just ideas of his characte he observed, that the reason of the difference was thi * My conversation is my own, but my actions are ir ministers'.* FLOWERS OP WIT. 117 KING JAMES II. 348. He said to the vice-chancellor of Oxford, * I ould recommend humility to youruniversitv, and that 311 should all preach by heart. The preachers be- )nd sea are all well accepted for so doing. You are deed good scholars : but when you grow up, you ow lazy, and lose all you have gotten.' 349 A gentleman arriving at St. Germain's where ng James If. kept his court, went to wait upon him ; hereupon the king demanded what news from Eng- nd. ' None very good, sir.' ' Well, but how stands y interest there ?' says the king. ' Why truly, sir,' iswered the gentleman, ' it is very considerable among e ladies, for I believe all the women of easy virtue e for your majesty.' ' Ay,' says king James, ' and all the men of easy virtue there were for me too, I ould soon be in the palace at Whitehall. WILLIAM III. 350. When almost a boy, as stadtholder, he with- X)d the formidable French invasion of Holland in 572 ; and the opposite faction, and even his friends, ked what he pretended to. ' To defend my country,' {id he ; ' to make a stand in the last ditch, and to die ,ere.' 351. When stadtholder, and engaged in a war ;ainst France, he formed the design of laying siege to harleroy. He marched to execute this plan, which one suspected ; when a very inquisitive colonel tntured to ask him some questions upon the subject. |f I make you my confidant,' said William, ' will you ^t communicate my designs to any one V * Most as- redly not,' said the colonel. ' Heavon,' replied Wil- m, ' is not so partial in the distribution of its favours you imagine ; it has given me the power of keeping ?ecret. as well as yourself.' 10* 118 FLOWERS OF WIT. 352. Lord Molesworth, who had resided at Copei hagen as ambassador from England, published An &\ count of Denmark, a valuable work, and held in hig esteem. In it he made some severe remarks upon tfc despotic form of the Danish government. The king < Denmark, offended at what he termed the insolence i the author, ordered his minister at the court of Englan to make a complaint to king William III. ' Wh; would you have me do ?' said king William, in answt to the remonstrance of the Dane. > Sir,' replied th minister, ' if your majesty had complained to the kin my master of a similar offence, ere now he would ha\ sent to you the author's head. ' This,' replied Willian * I have neither the power nor the inclination to do but if you choose it, lord Molesworth shall insert whs you have just now suggested to me, in the second ed tioi) of his work.' GEORGE I. 353. On a journey to Hanover the coach of Georg I. breaking aown, he was obliged to take shelter in th next country-house, which belonged to a gentleman a tached to the Stuart family. The king was shown int the best room, where in the most honourable place ap peared a portrait of the Pretender. The possessor i great confusion was about to apologize ; when the kin stopped him by saying, with a good-natured smilt ' Upon my word, it is very much like the family.' 354. Mr. P * * * * had killed a man very baselj and judge Dormer, whose sister he had married, wer to king George I. to petition for him ; allowing, how ever, that nothing could be urged in alleviation of hi crime, but that he hoped his majesty would save hir and his family from the infamy his execution woul bring upon them. ' So, Mr. Justice,' said the king ' what you propose to me is, that Lehould transfer th infamy from you and your family, to me and m; family.' FLOWERS OF WIT. 119 355- A German nobleman one day congratulated him i his being sovereign both of Great Britain and Hano- ir. * Rather,' said he, ' cengratulate me on having ich a subject in the one as Newton, and such a subject r the other as Leibnitz.' KING GEORGE II. 356. During the rebellion in 1745, the king came le day to the ceuncil chamber later than usual, and iving asked the subject of the deliberations, was told ey were taking measures to ensure the safety of his ajesty's person. ' Take care of yourselves, gentle- en, said the intrepid monarch, ' for as to me, I am solved to die king of England.' DR. WILLIAM KING, 257. The celebrated principal of St. Mary Hall, in xford, 1718. In vindication of himself from his ene- iesof the court, who attributed intrigue, if not treason, him, he said ' I inherited a patrimony, which I found fficient to supply my wants, and to leave me at liber- to pursue those liberal studies which afforded me ! most solid pleasures in my youth, and are the de- jht and enjoyment of my old age. Besides, I always nceived a secret horror of a state of servility and de- sndence ; and I never yet saw a placeman or a cour- ;r, whether in higher or lower life, whether a priest a layman, who was his own master.' 358. Thomas Warton, in his Triumph of Isis, paid n the highest compliment on the Latin oration which spoke in the Theatre at Oxford, on the opening ot i Kadcliffe library, in 1746. The description does honour to the poet ; and it is re introduced, because it is one of the best poetical etches of a public sneaker extant : — 120 FLOWERS OF WIT. 'See on you stage how all attentive stands, To catch his darting eye and waving hand : Hark ! he begins with all a Tally's art, To pour the chelates of a Cato.s heart ; Skill'd to pronounce what noblest thoughts inspire, He blends the speakers with the patriot's fire. Bold to conceive, nor timorous to conceal, What Britons dare to think, he dares to tell. 'Tis his alike the ear and eye to charm, To win with action, and with sense to warm ; Untaught in flowery diction to dispense The lulling sound of sweet impertinence, In frowns or smiles, he gains an equal prize, Nor menaly fears to fall, nor creeps to rise ; Bids happier days to Albion be restor'd, Bids antient Justice rear her radiant sword; From me, as from my country wins applause, And makes an Oxford's a Britannia's cause.' SIR GODFREY KNELLER. 359. 'By Heaven T love you, Mr. Cock,' said Godfrey Kneller to Cock the auctioneer, 'and 1 wi do you good ; but you must do something for me toi Mr. Cock : one hand can wash the face, but two hanc wash one another.' THE MODERN LACONIC. That neither the laconic style nor the spirit th; dictated it expired with the antient Spartans, may \ proved by the following instances. 3G0. William the conqueror, as soon as he set la j foot on English ground, burned his ships, and cried] 'Soldiers, behold your country.' 361. Henry IV. of France, previous to a battle, sai to his troops : 'I am your king ; you are Frenchmer behold the enemy.' m The following instance of the epistolary laconic beyond all competition ; FLOWERS OF WIT. 121 362. Sir George Walton, admiral of the blue, was jtached August 11, 1718, with the Canterbury and 'e other ships, after a Spanish fleet ; and on the 5th he forwarded to admiral Byng the following let- r : Sir, — We have taken and destroyed all the Spanish ips and vessels that were upon the coast. The num- r as per margin. I am, &c. G. Walton. interbury, off Syracuse, Aug. 16, 1718. Takm. Burnt. Admiral Mari and four men Four men of war,of 54, 44, war, 60, *4, 40, and 24 guns; 40, and 30 guns; a fire- hip laden with arms, and a ship and a bomb-vessel.* uab-vessel, GEN ERAL LAMBERT 363. Said very pithily, 'That the best of men are men at the best.' Such a sentiment as this proves that apothegms are t confined to the wise men of antiquity. LA LANDE. 364. This eminent astronomer, during the most ilous times of the French Revolution, confined him- f closely to the persuits of his favourite science, hen he was asked to what happy cause he was in- bted for escaping the fury of Robespierre, be jocose- answered, 'I may thank my stars for my preserva- I).' BISHOP LATIMER. 565. Bishops Latimer and Ridley were barba- 122 FLOWERS OF WIT. rously burnt alive at Oxford in the feign of bloo<' Mary. While the flames were gathering round thr bodies, 'Be of good courage, Ridley,' said the int) pid Latimer, 'our persecutors will be disappointe for our sufferings will lead men to inquire into the m« its of that cause for which we suffer ; and this fire v\ light such a candle in England, as I trust in God's gra will never be extinguished.* LE CLERC. 366. Some person observed to this acute and p found scholar, 'I think 'De mortuis nil nisi bodum' is good saying.' 'De mortuis nil nisi verumj said Clerc, 'is a better.' 'Why so ?' 'Because truth c do no harm to the dead, and may do great good to t living,' BISHOP LEIGHTON. 367. Soon after the Restoration, when episcopa was introduced into Scotland, Leighton was consecn ed bishop of Dumblane. At his entrance upon offil he gave an instance of moderation. Sharp, and otL> bishops, intended to enter Edinburgh in a pompo; manner. Leighton remonstrated against it. 'How C K these men,' said Sharp, with his usual vehemenc 'expect moderation from us, when they themselves ir posed their Covenant with so much zeal and tyranr on others ?, — 'For that very reason,' answered Leig ton mildly, 'let us treat them with gentleness, and sh< them the difference between their principles and ourl LESSING. 368. When this celebrated German poet was ceived into the order of free masons at Hamburgh, o of his friends, a zealous free mason, took him asi into an adjoining room, and asked him, ' Is it not tru that you find nothing among us against the governmeii religion, or morals ?' ' Yes,' answered Lessing, wi flowers or WIT. 123 eat vivacity, ' but would to heaven I had ; I should ;n, at least, have found something.' LICHSTENBERG. 369. Lichstenberg was asked what he thought of lvater, the writer on physiognomy, the great transla- - of countenances. ' Lavater seems,' said he ' to for- t, that the influence of climate, nourishment, disease, d other accidental circumstance?, may produce in i countenance those lines and appearances which he ra down as the marks of vicious passion : and thus a ib and erroneous judgment may be pronounced at the pense of charity and truth.' SIR GEORGE LTSLE. 370. One of the bravest of the generals of Charles He was one of those who so nobly defended Col- sterin 1648. The same day the rebel army took place, he was ordered to be shot. When he was 3ut to be executed, and thinking that the soidiers o were to despatch him stood at too great a distance, desired them to approach nearer. One of them said, warrant we shall hit you.' He replied with a smile, riends, I have been nearer to you, when you have >sed me.' MADAM DE LONGUEVILLE, 571. Her friends advised madam de Longueville, ) was a very virtuous and diffident lady, to go to rt, in order to set the courtiers a good example. ' I not,' said she, ' set a better example, than by not ng to court at all.' LOUIS XI. 172. Louis XI. used to compare the nobilty of his gdom to so many Actaeons. ' They are,' said he, en up by their dogs and horses.' 124 FLOWERS OF WIT. LOUIS XII. 373. The king being told that a gentleman of hi household had treated some farmers very ill, order*' his daily allowance of bread to be lessened. When tl gentleman complained, the king asked him, if his she allowance was enough to support him. ' No, sire,' sa he ; ' for bread, j r ou know, is the staff of life.' ' If be so,' said the king, ' why are you so absurd as treat those person^ ill, who put that staff into yo hands ?' A nation fond of glory will always honour the nr of letters, who record and celebrate its triumphs. 374. * The ancient Greeks,' said Louis XII., ' d little ; but they ennobled the little they did by the su limity of their eloquence. The French have perfon ed many great things ; but they have not the art displaying them to advantage by writing. The R mans are the only people, who have had the two-fo glory of achieving great things, and celebrating the' in a worthy style.' LOUIS XIV., However blameable for the fatal consequences his unbounded ambition, united a considerable share genuine good nature, with the most distinguished urbi; ity of manners : perhaps he was as complete a gen}) man as ever lived. The following anecdote is m among numerous instances of his claims to this chad ter. 375. He was one day entertaining a select party his courtiers with the relation of a story, which he i nnunced as extremely laughable ; but on the entran of the prince Armagnac, be suppressed a fine reparl, which constituted the merit of the story. The king I served the disappointment of the company at this iutj FLOWERS OF WIT. 125 uption, but said nothing till the prince was gone. Now, gentlemen,' said he, ' I'll conclude my story :' vhich he did ; and the sequel produced sn extraordi- lary degree of merriment. ' You see,' added the king, there was an oblique stroke, which would have affect- d the prince, and 1 suppressed it to prevent his being mbarrassed ; for I would rather lose the praise of the est bon mot that ever was uttered, than give a moment's 'ain to any person whatever !' 376. The prince of Conde' coming to congratulate ouis XIV. after a battle, in which he had command- d and gained great honour ; the king stood on the top f the stairs to receive him. The prince, being lame ith the gout, ascended very slowly ; and stopping lidway, begged his majesty's pardon if he made him 'ait. * Cousin,' said the king, ' do not hurry yourself ; person loaded with laurels as you are, cannot be ex- ected to move very fast.' 377. Louis XIV. complained that he was often de- eived in his choice of favourites ; he said, He had flight for friends, and had found only intriguers. His nowledge of mankind, which was the result of long nd painful experience, induced him to remark, That, s often as he gave away a place, he made a hundred ersons discontented, and one ungrateful." 378. When the duke of Anjou, grandson to Louis JV., was going to take possession of the crown of pain ; Loui.s alluding to the removal of the obstacle jat had prevented the harmony between France and pain, said, ' The Pyrenees will exist no longer.' 379. Louis XIV. very rarely reproached any one. he marquis of Uxelles, in 1689, surrendered, to rince Charles-of Lorrain, the city of Mentz, which he ad defended for a considerable time with great gallan- y: He came to court to give an account of his con- uct, and was apprehensive of the censures of the king. fe threw himself at the monarch's feet. ' Rise, mar- 11 1<2& FLOWERS OF WIT. quis,* said Louis ; ' you have defended the place like a man of courage, 2nd you have capitulated like a man of abilities.' 380. The death of the queen affected him in the severest degree. * Good God !' said he, when his at- tendants forced him away from h,er lifeless body, ' is it possible that the queen is dead ? and that I must for ever lose her, who never gave me pain but when she died V ft is not easy to pronounce a funeral oration in fewer words. 381. He showed a feeling beart. ' When the abb£ de Pompone had lost his father Simon Arnauld, secre- tary of state, Louis wished to give him consolation, and share his grief. ' You lament,' said he, ' a father, whom you shall find in me ; and I have lost a friend, whom I shall never find again.' 382. He candidly confessed his ignorance upon literary subjects. He one day asked Racine what French writer had done most honour to bis reign. Ra- r cine replied, ' Molie're, sire.' ' I did not think so,'? said Louis ; ' but you are a much better judge of hi* i merit than lam.' » 383. He was told that lord Stair, the English ambas- sador, was one of the best-bred men in Europe. ' I, will put his politeness to the te9t,' said the king : anart those whom God has joined in holy matrimony : vhy should I tarry at home ? the way to heaven is as jiear, if not nearer, in the Holy Land, than it is in ^ngiand, or Spain.' MARTIN LUTHER. Such was this great reformer's sternness of charac- fer, that he seemed unlikely to be attracted by the harms of refined accomplishments. Yet he was re- markably fond of music, and he composed several piec- s that are truly sublime. 385. ' Whoever despises music,' said he, ' I am dis- leased with him. Next to theology, I give a place to lusic : for thereby all anger is forgotten, the devil is riven away, and melancholy, and many tribulations, nd evil thoughts, are expelled. It is the best solace )r a desponding mind.' 386. His imagination was glowing and expanded : iWhen I behold,' said he*, ' by the light of the moon, he beautiful azure vault of heaven, besprinkled with onstellations of shining orbs, the prospect fills my n'nd, and 1 feel the highest gratification at such a glo- ous display of omnipotence. Melancthon wishes to now, where are the pillars that support this magnifi- ed arch.' 387. He said of himself, ' My rind is indeed very |ard ; but my core is soft and delicate, for I wish ill to lo one.' 388. ' A man,' said he, ' lives forty years before he nows himself to be a fool ; and at the time he begins see his folly, his life is nearly finished ; so that ma* y men die before they begin to live.' 1 28 FLOWERS OF WIT. 389. ' Patience is necessary in most things : I mus have patience with the Pope ; I must have patiena with heretics and seducers ; I must have patience wit! babbling courtiers, and with my servants ; I must havi patience with my wife Kate. In short, the occasion tor this virtue are so great, that my whole life is a lif of patience.' THE DUKE OF LUXEMBOURG!!. 390. This general resembled the renowned Cond< whose pupil he was. He beat William prince of Oi ange in several battles, which caused William to ex press himself with great indignation. ' Is it impossibl for me,' said he, ' to beat that little hunch-back Lux embourgh ?' * How should he know whether I am soc not ?' said the duke , ' for, often as I have seen hi back, he never saw mine.' LORD LYTTELTON. 391. A lady, well known in the literary world, asl ed the elder lord Lyttelton, why he did not insert, i his Life of Henry II., the tradition which makes tha Jirince the offspring of an amour between the empres Vlatilda and her competitor Stephen. The nobl biographer answered, * My work shall never becom the vehicle of antiquated scandal against a lady of ran and character.' MACKLIN. 392. Macklin the comedian was much distinguish* in acting the parts of Shylock and sir Archie Macsycc phant. His favourite book was Wanleyi's Wonders and he used to commit a page or two ot that curioL compilation to memory, that he might have a strikin anecdote ready to relate when he was going into coir pany. The king once asked him how old he was. FLOWERS OF WIT. - 129 •vas born,' said he, ' in the last century, and hope to lave the honour of playing before your majesty in the iext. y He died in the year 1797, at the very advanced ige of 107. MAGNANIMITY. 393. Melik the vizir of the Caliph Mostadi, gained signal victory over the Greeks, and took their empe- ror prisoner. Having ordered the captive prince to ap- pear in his tent, he asked him what treatment he ex- pected from his conqueror. * If you make war like a ing,' said the emperor, ' send me back ; if you make t like a merchant, accept my ransom ; if like a butcher, :>ut me to death.' The mussulman general dismissed lim with honour. MALHERBE. He was to France, what Pope was to England, the •efiner of the poetical style : and such was the elegance f his versification, that he eclipsed his predecessors, Hid placed most of them in the shade of obscurity. 394. When any one began to talk politics to him, he leclined entering upon the subject, saying, ' Is it not ib'surd, when you are only a common passenger on Doard a ship, to talk of the manner in which the vessel s steered V JOHN DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. This greatest of modern generals learned the rudi- nents of the art of war, while he served with the Eng- ish auxiliaries, in the pay of France, against the Dutch inder marshal Turenne. He afterwards turned the rts of his teachers against themselves, for he proceed- d in an uninterrupted career of success, and completely wimbled the pride of Louis XIV. Such was his coii- 11* 130 FLOWERS OF WIT, : summate skill, and such his success, that he neve fought a battle, but he won it ; and never laid siege t a town, but he took it. So little indebted was he to the aid of learning for hi pre-eminence, that he could scarcely write ; and yet s various were his talents, that his influence was felt i the council, as well as in the field. 395. It was a saying of his ; ' Give me ten thousan half-starved Scotchmen, ten thousand half-drunke Irishmen, and ten thousand well-fed Englishmen ; and in spite of all the grand monarque can do, 1 will marc from Boulogne to Bayonne.' 396. In the war of the allies with France, thedeputie of the states of Holland presented obstacles to the plan of the duke of Marlborough and prince Eugene. Tb duke was once asked how it happened, that Alexande the Great, and many other heroes of antiquity, had in very short time made such considerable progress i their conquests, and that now all that the greatest gen orals could do, was to take two or three towns in th course of a whole campaign. i The reason,' he replied ' is sufficiently obvious : Alexander, and the other grea heroes of antiquity, had never any deputies from trf states-general in their camps.' 397. He conducted his army from the Low-Cour tries to join the Imperialists upon the banks of the Dar ube. The great Eugene, astonished at the exceller condition of his troops after a long and difficult marc exclaimed, ' My lord, I never saw stronger horses, c soldiers better clothed and equipped. AH this, howev er, can be done for money ; but money cannot purchas the courage which shines in your men's countenances. 4 If what you remark be true,' replied Marlborougt it is easily accounted for : my soldiers know befor whom they stand ; their intrepid looks are inspire by your presence.' 398. When the duke was told that an officer, whor FLOWERS OF WIT. 131 ie had broke for ill-behaviour, would take some op- portunity of privately doing him an injury, he replied : I am in no apprehension on that head, because I know im to be a man of courage.' 399. Some person abused the duke, in the presence f lord Bolingbroke, for his avarice. l It is in vain,' aid his lordship, ' you endeavour to lower him in my steem ; he was so great a character that 1 forget all is faults.' 400. In the great battle of Blenheim, in which the !ing!ish and their allies gained one of the most decisive nd glorious of all their victories, marshal Tallard, the "rench commander-in-chief, was taken prisoner. In a onversation he soon after had with the duke of Marl- orough, he assured him, that the French army was omposed of the bravest troops in the world. ' No oubt they are, said the duke, ' with the exception of at army which had the honour to beat them.' 401. Great men are never angry at little things. The uke riding out with commissary Marriot, it began to dn, and the duke called for his cloak. Marriot had is put on by his servant immediately. The duke's ervant not bringing the cloak, he called foi it again, ut he was still puzzling about the straps and buckles ; t last it raining very hard, the duke called again, and sked him what he was about. ' You must stay,' rumbled the fellow, ' if it rains cats and dogs, till 1 an get at it.' The duke turned to Marriot, and only uietly said, 4 I should be sorry to be of that fellow's hmper.' 402. King William is said to have declared of Marl- orough, ' That he had of all men the coolest head ith the warmest heart.' MARY QUEEN OF SCOTLAND. 403. OxVEof the Cecil family, minister to Scotland 132 FLOWERS OF WIT, 7, from England, was speaking to her of the wisdom o his sovereign, que'fen Elizabeth. Mary stopped hint short by saying, k Pray, sir, don't talk to me of th< wisdom of a woman ; I think I know my own sex prettj well, and can assure you, that the wisest of us all is on ly a little less a fool than the others.' 404. When in the full bloom of her beauty, as sin was walking in a procession in Paris, a woman force* her way through the crowd to touch her. Upon beinj asked what she meant by her bold intrusion, she said ' It was only to satisfy herself, whether so angelic creature were flesh and blood or not.' This singular beauty was a principal cause of he misfortunes and her destruction. It excited the jeal ousy of Elizabeth, which could only be appeased b; her death. Mary, guilty as she was of crimes, was so lovely ii her person, and so attractive in her manners, that al parties wished her innocent, and all concurred in pity ing her sufferings. Her execution is an indelible spo upon the sun of Elizabeth's glory. SIR JOHN MASON. Sir John Mason was bom in the reign of Kenr VII. and was privy-councillor to Henry VIII., Edwan VI., queen Mary, and queen Elizabeth. He was a ma of talents, and displayed great probity in very turbc; lent times. 405. On his death-bed he called his family togethei and thus addressed them : — ' Lo, I have lived to see five princes, and have bee privy-councillor to four of them. 1 have seen the mos remarkable things in foreign parts ; and have been pre sent in most state transactions for thirty years at horm After so much experience, J have learned that serioue ness is the greatest wisdom ; temperance the be* physician ; aud a good conscience the best estate : an were I to live again, I |*$uld change fbe court for j BLOWERS OP WIT. 133 loister ; my privy-councillor's bustle for the retire- lent of a hermit ; and my whole life in the palace for i hour's enjoyment of God in my closet. All things 3vv forsake me, except my God, my duty, aud my tayers.' MASS1LLON. 406. ' The person of Massillon,' said a French author Tthe last century, * is still present to maf.y. It seems, ay his admirers,) that he is now standing in the pul- it with that air of simplicity, that unassuming demean- jr, those eyes humbly dejected, or nobly elevated, lat impassioned tone of voice, that speaking counten- ice of a man penetrated with his subject, and con- eying to the mind the most brilliant light, and to the 2art the most tender emotions.' When Baron, the reat French tragedian, was coming from a church here he had heard a sermon preached by Massillon, uth forced from his lips a confession humiliating to his |rofession : ' My friend,' said he, to one of his compan < ns, ' this is an orator, and we are only actors.' 407. Every one was astonished at the pictures of life (id manners which this sublime orator of the pulpit has !rawn, as they are very faithful, vivid, and affecting, jme person asked him from whence a recluse, who I red so much a stranger to the world, could take them. iFrom the human heart,' said Massillon ; ' and, ifyou [famine it as carefully as I have, you will there find te seat of all the passions.' THE EMPEROR MAXMILIAN. 408. An impudent beggar, on the authority of the lords in the 12th chapter of Malachi : ' Have we not l! one God our common father ?' asked alms from Max- |iilian, addressing him by the title of brother. Not tisfied with the sum given him by the emperor, he ntinued to importune him for more. ' Retire,' said laximilian to him, in a gentle manner ; * for if all your 134 FLOWERS OF WIT. brothers give you as much as I have now, you will soot be richer than 1 am.' SERJEANT MAYNARD. 409. Serjeant Maynard, one of the ablest lawyer* of his time, waited upon king William III. with th< rest of that learned body, to address him on his safe ar rival in England. William, not very politely, told ser jeant Maynard, that he had outlived all the great law vers of his time. * Sir,' replied the serjeant, ' I shouh have outlived the law itself, if your majesty had no come hither.' LORENZO DE MEDICIS. This great and accomplished man, whose Life ha. been written with considerable ability by Mr. Koscoe gave proofs in his early years of that quickness of mine w r hich distinguished his mature age. 410- His father Cosmo one day presented him, whet he was a child, to an ambassador, to whom he talked o him with the partiality of a parent ; requested the am bassador to whom he talked of him with the partiality of a parent ; requested the ambassador to put some questions to his son, and to judge by his answers, if hi was not a boy of extraordinary talents. The ambassa- dor was soon convinced, by conversing with him, of the; truth of what Cosmo had told him ; but added, ' This child, as he grows up, will most probably become stu- pid ; for it has in general been observed, that those who when young are very clever, degenerate as they grow older.' Young Lorenzo, hearing this remark, walked gently to the ambassador, and looking him archly in the face, said to him, ' I am certain, that when you were young, you were a boy of a very great genius.' 411. Lorenzo being asked who were the greatest fools in the world, answered, * Surely those who put themselves in a passion with fools.' FLOWERS OP WIT. 135 JOHN MILTON. 412. His Paradise Lost is an almost miraculous pro- uction, if considered to have been composed under the ircumstances of complicated wretchedness produced y poverty, disgrace, old age and blindness. Addison tleared the way for its celebrity, by his excellent criti- al papers in the Spectator. It slowly rose to fame, but ow has attained to its due ascendency in the scale of ur literature. Succeeding generations have fulfilled ie prediction, which the consciousness of his own ighty talents prompted Milton to hazard : * At ultimi nepoles Serique. postevi Judicia nobis atquioraforsilan A dkibebunt inlegro smu ; Tarn livore sepulto Si quid meremur, sera poster Has sciet.' Lucretius and Milton were exceptions to all other poets one respect ; they were very sparing of their flattery. 413. Milton is said to have valued himself more up- i the production of his Paradise Regained than his aradise Lost. This is like the blindness of some pa- nts to the merits of their children, and their prepos- ssion in favour of the least deserving. The public union is universally against that of the bard of Eden ; d it was well remarked by a critic, that we find Mil- i in Paradise Lost, but lose him in Paradise Re- ined. 414. It is said that an offer was made to Milton, of Iding the place of secretary under the king, which he d discharged with so much ability under Cromwell ; the persisted in refusing it, though his wife pressed ; compliance. ' Thou art in the right,' said he ; ou, as other women, would ride in your coach ; fqr, :, my aim is to live and die an honest man. 1 136 flowers or WIT. 415. His third wife survived this inimitable poet a state of widowhood nearly fifty-five years, dying Namptwich in her native Cheshire, about the ye 1729. She related that her husband, then completei blind, composed principally in the winter ; and, onh waking in the morning, would make her write dov sometimes twenty or thirty verses. On being ask< whether he did not frequently read Homer and Virg she replied, * That he stole from nobody, but that tl Muse inspired him.' To a lady who inquired who tl Muse was, she answered, ' It was God's grace and tl Holy Spirit that visited him nightly.' 416. Milton was passionately fond of music. Sob time after his unlortunate blindness, hearing a lady si. finely : ' Now will 1 swear,' said he, ' this lady ishan some.' His ears were then eyes to him. MODESTY. 417. It was a question, Who had spoken in the ha piest manner of modesty. A French author calls it tl shadow of a noble miud. St. Bernard styles it the je* el of manners, the sister of chastity, the guardian reputation, the portion of all purity. Diogenes was cynic philosopher, and therefore may be supposed express himself coarsely ; but what description can ! more appropriate or delicate, than when he called blush the colour of virtue ? LADY MARY WORTLE Y MONTAGU] 418. This lady, well known for her very pleasi, Letters on Turkish manners and customs, when vc^ young, wrote the following verses to Trutk : 1 Where, lovely goddess, dost thou dwell ? In what remote and silent shade i Within what cave, or lonely cell, With what old hermit, or unpractis'd maid FLOWERS OF WIT. 137 In vain I've 9oughtthee all around, But thy unfashionable sound In crowds was never heard, Nor ever has thy form in towns or courts appear'd. 7 419. As lady Mary was walking through the gardens Stow with a party, she was much teased by an im- minent young coxcomb, who was continually making me foolfsh observations to her. On coming to one of e temples, over which there was an inscription, she ok advantage of this opportunity to expose his igno- nce and put him to silence. * Pray, sir,' said she, )e kind enough to explain that inscription to us.' ladam,' said the young gentleman, with an affected r, ' 1 really do not know what it means, for I see it dog Latin.' ' How very extraordinary it is,' said la- Mary, ' that puppies do dot understand their own iguage !' SIR THOMAS MORE. 420. Mr. Manners, who had but lately been created rl of Rutland, said to sir Thomas More, ' You are so ich elated with your preferments, that you verify the 1 proverb, Honores Mutant Mores.' to, my lord,' said sir Thomas, ' the pun will do much tter in English : Honours change Manners.'' 121. When he heard any one of his friends at table lsuring the conduct of others, he would interrupt him is : ' Let any man think as he pleases ; I like this >m very well, for it is well built, and very conven- 122. Of an ungrateful person he said : ' That man 12 138 FLOWERS OF WIT. 1 " writes good turns done to him in the dust, but even least injuries in marble.' 423. To ease his thoughts when he was in prison, 1 said, ' he imagined that all the world was but a priso out of which some one or other was every day called execution.' 424. When he was lord chancellor, he sentenced gentleman to pay a considerable sum of money to a po widow, whom he had oppressed. The gentleman r monstrated, and said, ' I hope your lordship will gi i me time, and a long day, to pay so large a sum.' ' Y< shall have your request,' said the chancellor ; ' Mondi next is St. Barnabas, the longest day in all the yea pay the widow then, or you shall sleep in the Fleet tl shortest night in the year.' HORATIO NELSON. 425. When a little boy, he was on a visit to anaui and went in search of birds' nests. He wandered, far, that he did not return till some time after it w dark. The old lady, who had been much alarmed V his absence, reprimanded him severely, and asked hi 1 how fear came not to drive him home ' 1 don't knofj said the boy with great simplicity, k ^vho Fear is.' 426. His attachment to his friends was as ardent his courage. When be was presented to the king the levee, his majesty complimented him on his gre actions : after this eulogium, he condoled with him J the loss of his arm. Nelson turned round to capts Berry, who had been the companion of many of his e' ploits, and introduced him to the king with this remari 4 My loss, I assure your majesty, is not so great as y may imagine, for here is my right hand.' 427. Of his confidence of what seamen can achie> he gave the following remarkable proof, among ma others. — When he was before Bastia in Corsica, FLOWERS OF WIT. 139 Lid, c What the general (Dundas) could have seen make a retreat necessary, I cannot comprehend. A ousand men would certa'inly take Bnstia : with five mdred and my ship Agamemnon I would attempt it. y seamen are now, what British seamen ought to be, [most invincible. They really mind shot no more |an peas.' [The event justified his boldness ; for 1000 regulars, t300 national guards, and 4000 Corsican troops, laid bwn their arms to 1200 soldiers, marines, and seamen ! fter the surrender of Bastia, ' I always was of opinion,' id Neteon, ' have ever acted up to it. and never had y reason to repent it, that one Englishman was equal three Frenchmen !' 428. When he was going to the coast of Egypt in aTch of the French fleet, in his letter to lord St. Vin- nt he said : ' Should the French fleet be bound to e Antipodes, you may rely upon me, I will not lose moment in bringing them to action.' 429. On the 1st of August 1793, captain Hood of the alous made the signal for the French fleet. For my preceding days Nelson had hardly taken either 3t or food : he now ordered dinner to be served, liile preparations were made for battle ; and when his [icers rose from table, and went to their separate sta- ns, he said to them : ' Before this time to-morrow, I all have gained a peerage, or Westminster Abbey.' 430. Of his confidence as to the success of his mode attack there is no doubt. Captain Berry, when he nprehended the scope of the design, exclaimed with nsport, ' If we succeed, what will the world say ?' 'here is no if in the case,' replied the admiral ; lat we shall succeed is certain ; who may live to tell story, is' a very different question.' 131. The victory of the Nile was one of the most nplete and glorious ever achieved. ' Victory,' said Ison, ' is not a name strong enough for such a'scene j 140 FLOWERS OF WIT. I call it a conquest.' Of thirteen sail of the line — nir were taken, and two burnt ; of the four frigates, or was burnt, and another sunk. 432. Impromptu after the signal victory of the NU admiral Nelson having previously lost an eye and t arm: * Frenchmen, no more with Britons vie,.... Nelson destroys your naval band, Sees your designs with half an eye, And fights and beats you with one hand.' 433. During his last command in the Mediterranea his officers said of him, * Old Nel is as brave as a lio and as gentle as a lamb.' 434. He commanded the squadron that cruised < Toulon with astonishing perseverance from May II to August 1805, during which tedious period he we out ot his ship only three times, each of which w; upon the king's business, and neitherexceeding an hou Once when the French fleet ventured in sight, he sal * They are in high feather, and as fine as paint c; make them. Our weather-beaten ships, if they dare meet us, I have no fear will make their sides appe like a plum-pudding.' 435. With respect to the officers of the navy he h; the most liberal opinions. Lord Barham gave him' list of the navy, and offered him his choice of officei when he was going to take his last command. ' Choo yourself, my lord,' said Nelson ; ' the same spirit a tuates the whole profession ; you cannot choose wrong England never produced a hero who more entire possessed the good opinion of the public than lord Nt son ; and their love and confidence were founded up< their conviction of his matchless courage, skill, and d votion to the service of his country. (For his charact at large see the Elements of General Knowledge, Vc ii.p. 358. 7th ed.) FLOWERS OP WIT. 141 SIR ISAAC NEWTON. I 436. He discovered and demonstrated the principle u attraction which sets the universe in motion. A per- on asked him by what means he bad been able to de- ifelope the system of the universe. ' By making it,' h replied, ' incessantly the subject of my thoughts.' 437. His Principia Philosophies being made known the emperor of China by the French missionaries, le emperor testified his approbation of that work in a tter written in his own hand in the Chinese language, she had no doubt that the fame of Newton was spread 'er all the western part of the world, and every person ere must know his residence, he directed the letter Mr. Newton in Europe. This concise address was fficient ; the letter reached the great English philoso- aer ; and he found, when it was translated to him, at it contained very lively expressions of esteem for m, and very high praise for his immortal work. 438. Newton had a great aversion to controversy, r he did not like to have the calm repose of his life terrupted by literary disputes. When his treatise on ptics were ready for the press, on some objections ing made to it, he deferred the publication : ' I ould reproach myself,' said he, ' was 1 to sacrifice pose which is a substance, to run after reputation aich is only a shadow.' 439. He never disputed in company. When he had slivered an opinion which any one chose to controvert, i did not take the pains to defend it ; but contented raself with saying, ' I believe, sir, if you will be at e trouble of examining my opinion, you will find I tve very good reasons for it.' 440. He wrote a Commentary on the Apocalypse, which he endeavoured to prove that the Pope was iti-christ. ' He evidently,' said Voltaire, * wished 12 142 FLOWERS OF WIT. by this work, to make a compensation to mankind fij the superiority he had gained over them in other n spects.' 441. No person has, done more honour to the genii of Newton than Voltaire. He declared, ' That ifi general assembly could be convened of all the men <| talents who ever flourished, they would, without hesit tion, assign the place of precedence to Newton.' THE DUKE OF NORFOLK. 442. The first Protestant duke of Norfolk, carryir the sword of state before James IL to his Popish cha el, stopped at the door. The king, on going in, saii ' Your father would have gone farther.' The duke ai swered j ' But your father would not have gone so lai FREDERICK LORD NORTH. Such were his candour, affability, and pleasing ma: ners, that he secured the esteem of those who differe most widely from him upon political subjects ; ar while they remained unconvinced by his argument they could not fail to be delighted with his facetiou ness. 443. The lethargic tendency of his constitution w; apparent in his early years. When he was a your student in Oxford, he attended the lectures in expei mental philosophy ; and one day, when an experime was to be tried upon a cat with an air-pump, lord Nor apprehensive he should fall asleep during a consider ble part of the lecture, said to his companion lord Dai mouth, ' Pray wake me when the cat comes.' 444. A stranger was conversing with lord North in public room, and opposite to them was a party of 1 dies. * Pray, my lord,' said the gentleman, ' who FLdWERS OF WIT. 143 at large ugly woman I see yonder V ' That,' said his rdship, ' is lady North.' ' My dear lord,' said the ntleman, confused at his unfortunate observation, and aking an effort to correct it, ' 1 mean the lady who mds next her.' ' That lady,' said his lords! ip, ' is p daughter.' The gentleman was now speechless. "ome, come,' said lord North, smiling with his usual od-nature, when he observed his confusion, ' you have ade an ingenious but unfortunate eliort to get out of a rape : I forgive y»ou, for i believe lady North and I e as plain a couple as any in England.' 445. Hely Hutchinson, provost of Dublin college, is the most greedy of preferment of all the courtiers his time. In addition to his provostship, he was re- iver-general for Dublin, &c. &c, and actually solicit a majority in a regiment of dragoons. When appli- tion was made to lord North, then premier, to give is commission to him, his lordship observed, ' The ovost is so craving, that if I was to give him the lole of Ireland, he would not be content ; he would c for the Isle of Man for a cabbage garden.' 446. Very soon after he ceased to be premier, he ;eived a present of a turtle. ' The person,' said he, om whom this comes, is too much a man of the world throw away his favours designedly. This turtle is ;h a very fine one, that when he sent it to me, I am ry certain he did not know I was no longer in office.' ^47. At the close of life he was afflicted with the to- loss of sight. At Bath he met colonel Barre, who d been his warm opponent in the house of commons, i was also blind. On being introduced to each oth- lord North said, ' Colonel, you and I have often been variance ; but I believe there are no people in the rid, who, after all, would be more glad to see each ier.' 144 FLOWERS OF WJT» DR. OGDEN. 448 A blustering Cantab endeavoured to justi the practice of profane swearing, in the company oft Ogden, the excellent sermon-writer. ' At least,' sa he, ■ doctor, you must grant, that swearing gives t appearance of courage.' * Alas, sir,' said the doct( What is the appearance of courage ! do not the lit birds perch upon the image of an eagle V OLYMPIAS. 449. She was the illustrious mother of Alexander t Great. She was told that a certain young man h married a very beautiful woman ; but that her chara ter was doubtful. ' The bridegroom,' said she, ' h' consulted his eyes and not his ears.' GENERAL PACK. r 450 One of the most famous divisions of Bonapart< army was the 70th. It happened that the 71st Briti regiment, commanded by brigadier-general Pack, 1 opposed to it, and beat it. This gallant officer was terwards asked the particulars of this affair ; his accoij was, ' The French found us one too many for them.' PiEDARETUS. 451. PiEDARETus, a noble youth of Sparta, was a I didate for admission into the society of the the thr hundred, a company who held the most honoural rank in Sparta. On being rejected by the electo. so far from expressing disappointment or chagrin, went home in high spirits ; and being asked the cam' said, ' I am rejoiced to find that Sparta possesses thi hundred men better than myself.' DR. PALEY. 452. A divine most deservedly celebrated for FLOWERS OF WIT. 145 uteness of understanding, the soundness of his judg- ent, and the extent of his attainments, displaced in Tious moral and theological works. When a student Christ's college, Cambridge, he was a member ot the vson club, established by the wranglers of 1757 . In debate there one evening, on the expediency of mak- g some alteration in the Church for the relief ot ten- r consciences, Dr. Gordon, fellow of Emanuel, and terwards precentor of Lincoln, an avowed toiy, warm- opposing the arguments of Mr. Jebb the reformist, claimed to Paley, ' You mean, sir, to impose upon a new church government.' ' You are mistaken, ,' said Paley ; ' Jebb only wants to ride his own >rse, not to force you to get up behind him.' 153. Dr. Paley met lord Ellenborough, on the north- n circuit, at Durham. Paley congratulated him on ; recent appointment to the place of lord chief justice. r our lordship, said he, * has risen higher and more >idly than any man of whom I have lately heard, sept Garnerm.'' He alluded to the aeronaut, who s at that time astonishing the inhabitants of London his lofty flights. t54. Speaking of the character of Falstaff, he remark- that, ' amongst actors it was frequently misunder- od. The fat knight was a courtier of the age he ed in ; a man of vivacity, humour, and wit ; a great >robate ; but no buffoon.' THOMAS PENNANT. 55. This pleasing tourist always wore his own r, and had a mortal aversion to a wig. Dining one rwith an officer who wore one, Pennant made rather free with the bottle, and a friend who was in com- ly carefully placed himself between Pennant and wig, to prevent mischief. After much patience, 1 many a wistful look, Pennant started up, seized the ;, and threw it into the fire. It was in flames in a went ; and so was the officer, who ran to his sword, 146 FLOWERS OF WIT. Down stairs ran Pennant, and the officer after hii through all the streets of Chester. But Pennant escape 1 from superior local knowledge. A wag called th ' Pennant's Tour in Chester .' * PETER THE GREA Never was there a monarch, and not often a subjc jnore diligent, enterprising, and indefatigable. I regulated his time not by days, but by minutes ; neith pains, danger, nor defeat dismayed him, ordamp his courage. He always took the most extraordina, and the most effectual methods for the success of pla ( for the improvement of his native country. As thought personal experience necessary in order to troduce discipline into his army and navy, he served a common soldier, and worked as a ship-carpent< He succeeded in all his magnificent projects. J found Russia barbarous, and he left it comparative civilised. 456. When he sent his propositions for peace Charles XII., that prince haughtily replied, ' I v\ treat with Peter only in the capital of his dominion. When this answer was brought to Peter, he said coi, ly, ' My brother Charles is continually affecting to the part of Alexander; but I flatter myself that he n| not find me a Darius.' 457. He caused many excellent books to be transfy ed into the Russian language, and among others, Pi, endorffs Introduction to the Knowledge of the Sta! ( of Europe. A monk, to whom this translation w committed, presented it to the emperor ; who, turni over the leaves, exclaimed with an indignant air, ■ Fo what did 1 order thee to do ? is this a translation Then referring to the original, he showed him a pai graph, in which the author had spoken with great ; perity of the Russians, but the translator had omitt it, v Go instantly,' said the czar, 4 and execute my < dejs rigidly. It is not to flatter my subjects that I ha FLOWERS OF WIT. 1 47 is book translated and printed, but to instruct and to [form them.' 458. In 1704, he took the city of Narva by assault, is troops in defiance of his orders sacrificed every jing to fire and sword. He threw himself into the jidst of his mutinous men, rescued the women from leir insults, and killed two of his soldiers with his own Lnds. He then entered the town-hall, where many of le terrified citizens had fled for refuge, and throwing sword upon the table, ' It is not with the blood of ur townsmen,' said he, ' that this sword is stained, t with that of my own soldiers, whose lives I have ien to save yours.' 459. He gained a complete victory over Charles I. at the battle of Pultowa, on July 8th, 1709. He )k many officers prisoners, among whom was Ren- Id, general of the Swedish army. He was conduct- to the Russian camp, and invited to dine with the ar on the day of the victory. When the czar expressed his surprise, that the r edes had ventured to march into a country so distant m their own, and had laid siege to Pultowa with so all a number of troops ; ' We have not always been lsulted,' said Renchild ; ' but as faithful subjects we eyed the orders of our master without canvassing ir propriety.' The czar turned to some of his cour- rs, formerly suspected of being implicated in a con- racy against him : ' Observe, 5 said he, ' gentlemen, ;va sovereign ought to be obeyed.' Then filling a ss with wine, ' I drink,' said he ' to the health of our sters in the art of war.' Renchild asked him who I the honour to deserve a title so noble. 4 Yourself,' died Peter, * and the other Swedish generals.' our majesty is very ungrateful then,' said Renchild, have treated your instructors so severely.' After ner the czar ordered their swords to be restored, 1 behaved to all his prisoners with great condescen- and kindness, 148 FLOWERS OF WIT. 460. The voice of his empress Catharine was charm sufficiently powerful to appease his rage. SI and she alone, could recall him to sentiments of t manity, to virtue, and to himself. He sometimes blushed at his involuntary fits of ang< and exclaimed with confusion and grief, ' Alas! I ; trying to reform my people, and cannot reform m self.' MR. PETIT. 461. ' As your skill in your profession is so grea said a pers n to Mr. Petit the celebrated French an; omist, ' why do you not cure all the diseases of t human body V ' My skill may be great,' replied ft Petit : but unfortunately we anatomists are like t porters of Paris, who are well acquainted with all t streets, but are ignorant of what is passing in the hoi es.' PHAVORINUS. 462. This philosopher maintained an argument wes! ly dgainstthe emperor Adrian. One of his friends sa 1 1 You have not disputed with your usual strength ' reasoning to day.' ' Would you,' said the philosoph! have me show my strength of reasoning, when I am c(| tending with the commander of thirty legions V PHOCYON. 463. Phocyon, the great Athenian general, havi finished a speech was applauded by the populace, fear,' said he, when he heard their acclamations, 'I ha said something foolish.' Did ever any of the modem orators, who are fond haranguing ihe mob in Palace-yard and such plac: read this anecdote ? FLOWERS OF WIT. 149 PIGALLE. 464. It would be difficult to find an anecdote record- [ more honourable to the benevolence of an artist, I indeed of any man, than the following. — Pigalle, e celebrated sculptor, who had laid by twelve louis prs for a journey from Lyons to Paris, seeing a man fio was walking with visible marks of deep-felt sor- |.v in his countenance, accosted him, and asked if he jld in any way relieve him. ' Ah, sir,' exclaimed stranger, ' for want of ten louis, I must be dragged s evening to a prison, and be separated from my ar wife and helpless children.' ' Is that all V said humane artist : ' follow me, I can command the n you want, and it shall be at your service.' A nd who met him next day, asked if he had reliev- the distress of this poor man, as was publicly re- rted in Lyons. k Yes, friend,' said Pigalle, 'fand at a delicious supper did I make last night, upon ad and cheese, with his family, who blessed me at ry mouthful they ate, and every mouthful was mois d with the tears of their gratitude V ALEXIS PIRON. Ie was a dramatic writer of considerable repute, conversation was distinguished by repartees always ck and lively, and sometimes bitter and malignant. je exalted opinion he entertained of his own talents, need him to exercise great severity upon the lite- v productions of others. 65. An indifferent but conceited author one day ve to ask his assistance. ' As I know you are a l of ready invention, and I want to write something ;inal, pray suggest to me a subject for a work that never been written upon before.' * Write' said >n, ' your own panegyric' J6. When the Semiramis of Voltaire was acted the time, far from being received with all the applause 3h the confident author vainly anticipated, it went very heavily. As Voltaire was coming from the 13 150 FLOWERS OF WIT. play-house, he met Piron, and asked him his opinion < it. * I think,* said Piron, * you would have been iTei glad if I had written it.' 467. Piron had foretold the fate of a stupid play I its author, and the event justified his prediction, have aft Jeast this consolation,' said the author, ' tt audience did not hiss my play.' 'I believe you,' said P ron, * for you know it is impossible to gape and hiss the same time.' 468. A tragic poet read a work to him, in which I had been so great a plagiary as to introduce sever whole borrowed verses into his piece. While he w reading, Piron very often took off his hat. ' What the reason,' said the pilfering poet, ' of your singul behaviour in taking your hat off so frequently V " M conduct, replied f'iron, * is not singular ; for it is a ways my custom to make a bow whenever I meet ai of my old acquaintance.' 469. He was requested to make some correctio in his tragedy of Ferdinand Cortez. At the bare me tion of corrections he flew into a violent rage. Hi9 a viser adverted to the example of Voltaire, who had the public request repeatedly revised his piece ' There is a great difference,' said he, ' in the tv persons ; Voltaire is an embroiderer, and I make fi | ures in bronze.' If this reply be not modest, it certainly energetic. 470. The unbending temper and caustic raillery Piron occasioned his expulsion from the French Aca emy. * I cannot, 1 said he, ■ compel thirty-nine men think as I do, nor can I think with thirty -nine.' 471. He wrote his own epitaph in a style of hum ity, pointed with a bitter sarcasm against the Fren Academicians : * CegU Piron, qui nefut rien, Pas mrme Academic ten.' THE FLOWERS OF WIT, OR- A CHOICE COLLECTION or BON MOTS, BOTH ANTIENT AND MODERN, WITH tlOCRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL REMARKS. BY HENRY KETT, ;thor of the elements of general knowledge CpMPLETE IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. XZ. 1825. THE FLOWERS OF WIT. PART I- (Continued.) m Mots referred to their Authors, and the Names of those Authors alphabetically arranged. WILLIAM PITT. 472. The fashionable hours of the present times re neatly censured by him. ' Mr. Pitt,' said the :hess of Gordon, ' 1 wish you to dine with me at ten i evening.' ' I must decline the honour,' said the mier, ' for I am engaged to sup with the bishop of icoln at nine.' 73. ' Pray,' said the same facetious lady, ' Mr. Pitt, fou know every thing that is moving in the political Id, tell me some news.' ' I am sorry, madam, 1 said discreet premier, * I cannot oblige you, as I have yet read the papers of the day.' « I 74. This great statesman was known, when retired n public business into the circle of his friends, to lit- is* 4 FLOWERS OP WIT. dulge in light and playful conversation. He even coi descended to punning. When enjoying himself with convivial party at Walmer Castle, the expected inv? sion of the French from the opposite shores was talke of, and one of his friends asked him * What dependenc can you place upon your Cinque-Port volunteers ? f( you know some of them are millers, and others ai custom-house officers.' * O,' said Pitt, 'these are tfc very men in whose military talents I can confide : ev< S7 miller is a marshal Saxe, and every custom-house o cer is a Caesar.' 475. The duchess of Gordon expressed great pleai, ure at meeting him after a long absence, and asked hii, many questions. Among the rest—' Pitt,' said sb ' have you talked as much nonsense as you used to d< since we last met?' 'Madam,' he replied, ' 1 have n< heard so much.' 476. Although not a profound classical scholar, I was sufficiently conversant with some of the best Laf authors, to make a most happy and impressive applicr tion of passages in their works to subjects in debate. He was one day very closely pressed in the house commons by Mr. Fox, to avow what was the precii; object of the cabinet ministers in the war against I ranc| and particularly, if it had an immediate reference the restoration of the Bourbon family to the throne their ancestors. Mr. Pitt candidly replied, ' With re pect to myself, I have no hesitation to declare to t|l honourable gentleman, that as far as I am concerned such a specific and definite object as that which I names, is the favourite subject oi my thoughts ; it is tl darling object of my ambition, and its accomplishme would constitute the greatest glory of my life — To adq the words of JEneas : Me si fata meis paler entur ducere vilam Auspiciis, el sponle mea componere curas ; Urban Trqfanam primum, dukesaue meorum FLOWERS OF WIT. O Reliquias cohrem ; Priami tecta alta manerenl ; Et recidiva manu posuisstm Pergama victis.'* 477. Impromptu on seeing the statue of Mr. Pitt pla- id above all the monuments in Westminster Abbey ; — 1 See the just image of bis noble mind, Dead, as alive, he soars o'er all minkind.' CHRISTOPHER PITT, THE POET. 478. Benson, who wrote a pamphlet to expose Dry- n s Translation of Virgil, was fond of the alliteration *. which Pitt was remarkable. Pitt thought it an ex- llence far less considerable than Benson did ; * But,' d he, ' since you like it so well, this couplet upon rdinal Wolsey will not displease you : — * Begot by butchers, but by bishops bred, How high his honour holds his haughty head.' PLATO. This sublime and visionary philosopher adorned the iple precepts of his master Socrates with the flowers lis eloquence. His Dialogues are subtle and verbose the extreme ; and his treatise on a republic is a ro- nce ; of his acuteness in conversation, there are satis- tory evidences. 179. Plato was asked, when he thought all the peo- of the world would be happy. He replied, * Ei- r when wise men are kings, or kings are wise men.' 180. Diogenes paying Plato a visit, trod on his rich pets with his dirty feet. ' See,' said he, c how I mple on the pride of Plato.' ' True,' said Plato, it with greater pride.' PLUTARCH. 181. His advice to the unfortunate is very ingenious. *Virg. iEn. 4. 6 FLOWERS OF WlT» and ought to be consolatory. * Consider,' says the ph losopher, ' you equal the happiest men in the one ha of your life at least ; that half, 1 mean, which yc spend in sleep. 1 CARDINAL POLE. 482. In a company where cardinal Pole was, th conversation turned on a young man, who was vei learned, but very noisy and turbulent. The cardin;| remarked, ' that learning in such young men, is lilt I new wine in the vat, there it works and ferments ; bi after it is put into a vessel, having gathered its strengl ] together, it settles, and is quiet and still.' 483. Some letters were shown to him, that had bee written to console a great man on the death of some < his friends. These letters were composed in the moi pompous manner, and were adorned with all the flowei of a gaudy and affected style. * I never read any le ters,' said the cardinal, * more calculated to answer th purpose of assuaging grief, for I defy any man to rea' them without laughing heartily. ALEXANDER POPE. 484. As he complimented all persons of title, so h did lord Bolingbroke in the highest style of adulatioi ( He always spoke of this' guide, philosopher and friend as a being of a superior order, that had co.idescende! in pity to the moral wants of mankind, to visit this low [ er world. In particular, when a comet appeared an approached the earth, he told some of his acquaintance 4 It was only sent to convey lord Bolingbroke hooi again, just as a stage-coach stops at a door to take u| a passenger.' 485. Once dining with Frederick prince of Wales he paid the prince many compliments. 4 I wondei Pope,' said the prince, * that you, who are so sevei FLOWERS OF WIT. 7 Don kings, should be so complaisant to me.' ' It is,' "d Pope, * because I like the lion before his claws are own.' AN INFALLIBLE POPE. 4S6. ' When I was at Cambridge,' said Mr. Fuller, lere was a current but false report, that Pope Urban II. was imprisoned by his cardinals in the castle of Angelo. Whereupon a witty lad, a scholar in the iversity, said, ' Jam verissimum est papam nonposse are. 1 PROFESSOR PORSON. The compiler of this work has reason to lament, that hope he expressed five years ago,* * That the tal- and attainments of this extraordinary man would duly appreciated by some able biographer,' has not been realized. The accounts that have hitherto n published of him, are hasty, meagre, and inaccu- They may show the zeal of the respective writ- but they afford few proofs of the diligence of their jarches, or of that expansion of critical judgment essary for the full comprehension of such a subject he richly gifted, and amply stored mind of Porson. orson could illustrate any topic connected with the » range of his studies with so much information, carry it to such an extent, as generally to surprise often to instruct all the company around him. As irent occasions called for the display of his talents, vas keenly sarcastic, drily humorous, or playfully Imperfect recollection supplies the following ty and perhaps inaccurate instances of his colloquial es. 37. He made this candid confession ; * When I Veface to the Elements of General Knowledge, edition eventh. 8 FLOWERS OF WIT. was seventeen years of age, I thought I knew eve thing ; as soon as I was twenty-four, an<} had re Bentley> 1 found 1 knew nothing.' 488. So far from lending an ear to flattery, he y averse to that praise which was justly his due. An j thor, to whom in the most obliging manner he had g en some literary assistance, said to him : ' I wish make you a public acknowledgment in the next editi of my work.' ' 1 decline your offer,' said Porso * for you may say something in compliment to me t) we may both be ashamed of ten years hence.' 489. Herman, the editor of a work on Greek met accused Porson of being very dogmatical upon that si ject. This attack produced the following lines : 1 The Germans in Greek Are sadly to seek. Not five in five score, But ninety-five more ; All sa\eonly Herman, And Herman's a German.' 490. A great admirer of Gibbon commended his st in very high terms. The professor listened to him, w a sneer of disapprobation, but for some time said thing On being pressed for his opinion : ' Gibbc said he, ' is too uniform ; he writes in the same flowl and pompous style upon every subject. He is 1 Christie the auctioneer, who says as much in praise a ribbon as of a Raphael.' 491. Some person talked to the professor in most exaggerated terms of the poems that had b< published by sir James B. Burgess and P. Pybus ; i this puffer asserted, that they would obtain more fa in times to come than Homer, Virgil, or Milton, doubt,' said Porson, ' they will be praised by all m kind, when Homer, Virgil, and Milton are forgotten and not before. 9 FLOWERS OF WIT. ? PORTRAITS. 492. Many persons have declined to have their por- ihs taken from pride, which sometimes assumes the ess of modesty. Monsieur Dassier the medallist, as ill as De la Tour the painter, could not prevail on ron Montesquieu to sit for his portrait, till the for- ;r, with an air of pleasantry, said to him, 4 Do not you Ink there is as much pride in refusing my request, [there would appear in granting it ?' Upon this he bsently yielded. PRINCE CHARLES, commonly called THE PRETENDER. (Fhere is sufficient evidence to prove, that the Pre- der was in London in the year 1753. He appeared i card-party at lady Primrose's ; the servant observ- how very like the stranger was to the picture of the nee, which hung on the chimney-piece in the room which he entered. ie walked in broad day in St. James's Park, and seen coming out, and was recognized by several •sons, and among others by Dr. Smith, professor of unetry in Oxford, who mentioned the circumstance everal of his friends in Oxford afterwards. 93. Mr. Hume, the historian, told all he had heard m the above subject to lord Holderness. who was retary of state in 1753 ; and he added, that proba- this piece of intelligence had escaped him. ■ By means, 1 said he ; ' and who do you think first told the Pretender was in London ? It was the king him- ': who added, And what do you think, my lord, I uld do with him V Lord Holderness confessed he puzzled how to reply. The king perceived his >arrassment, and extricated him from it, by saying : 7 lord, I shall just do nothing at all ; and when he [red ot England, he will go abroad again.' his story ought to be generally known, as a remark- 10 able proof of the moderation and prudence of Ki George' II. PRIOR. He was a skilful versifier, rather than an original po and possessed a happy facility of expressing the id( he borrowed from his predecessors in neat and flo ing rhymes. He showed much of the airy vivac which marked the French poets of the same peric and like them, excelled in the pleasantries of c( versation. 494. In a gay French company, when every c: sang a little song or stanza, of which the burden v * Bannissons'Ja melancholie ;' when it came to his turn sing, after the performance of a young lady that next him, he produced these extemporary lines : '•Mais cetle voix, et ces beaux yeaux, Font cupidon trop danger eux ; Etje suit triste, quandje crie, Bannissons la melancholic* 495. As he was surveying the apartments at Versailli being shown the victories of Louis XIV. painted Le Brun, and asked whether the king of Englaml palace had anysuch decorations ; 'The monuments my master's actions,' said Prior, 'are to be seen eve where but in his own house. 1 496. When he was ambassador at Paris, he wij one night to the Opera, and sat in the same box w a nobleman, who, as is the custom in France, sung loi er than the performer on the stage. Prior burst into violent invectives against the performer ; u\. which the nobleman ceased singing, asked Prior vt seriously the reason of his abuse, and assured him up his honour that the person he exclaimed against had o> of the finest voices in Europe, 'That may be,' said P or ; but how can I have any patience with a fellow mi\ FLOWERS OF WIT. 1 1 \g such a horrid noise, that I cannot have the pleas- •e of hearing your lordship V i 497. Towards the close of his life he became deaf, or [ least thought himself so. When some person asked m, whether he had ever observed himself deaf when was in office ; ' Faith,' replied he, ' I was then so aid of my head, that I did not much attend to my rs.' PSALMANAZAR. 498. Me endeavoured to impose upon the public, by ^tending to be a native of an island he called For- >sa. One day as he was enlarging upon its beauties, ;entleman, who had no great relish for his flights of cy, remarked to him : ' If this island be in the lati- leyou describe, the sun must shine perpendicularly vn the chimneys, and put all the fires out.' * O sir,' 1 Psalmanazar without any hesitation, ' the inhabi- ts are aware of this inconvenience, and so all the. mneys are built obliquely.' DANIEL PURCELL. i99. He was a very determined nonjuror. He told a ndofhis, that when king George I. landed at Green- fa, he had a full view of him. ' Then,' said his friend, u know him by sight.' ' Yes,' replied Purcell, '.I k I know him, but I cannot swear to him.' IE DUCHESS OF QUEENSBURY. DO. The duchess was the patroness of Gay, and tig fond of the company of his brother-wits, invited rty, consisting of Addison, Pope, Swift, and Arbuth- to dine with him at her table. Addison talked » ; and what he said was with such embarrassment, he could hardly finish a sentence. Pope was the ^r of the company ; his voice was shrill, and he I i .12 FLOWERS OF WIT. made many tart observations. Swift was in one of fc odd humours, and was determined to tease the duches so, as soon as the company were seated at dinner, complained he had left his snuff-box behind him, a requested one of the servants might be sent for it. ] soon after complained of the want of his tooth-pick cai and a second servant was despatched for that, which described as an indispensable requisite to his comfo He then complained of the want of his pocket-bot and a third servant was sent for that : in short, he c< trived to have so many distinct wants, that not a sinj servant was left in the room. The duchess look around, and seeing no servants ; ' Gentlemen,' said si ' we are reduced to such a state that we must wait uj ourselves. If I want a piece of bread or a clean pla f I shall rise and help myself, and you must do the sam Swift, finding his scheme of putting the duchess out humour had failed, sat in sullen silence ; but Gay, a jolly figure, threw himself back in his chair in an i moderate fit of laughter, delighted at his mortificati 1 I am now fully convinced,' said he, ' of what I h; often heard ; that her grace, our noble hostess, is best-natured woman in the world.' QUIN. 501. Qijin thought angling a very cruel diverse and on being asked why, gave this reason : ' Supp some superior being should bait a hook with venis and go a quinning ; I should certainly bite, and wh« figure I should make dangling in the air I' 502. Quin told lady Berkeley, who was a beaut woman, that she looked blooming as the spring ; I recollecting that the season was not then very pror ing, he added, ' I wish the spring would look like y ladyship.' 503. A young fellow, whose talent lay in come came to offer himself to the play-house ; and ha\ «iven a specimen of his abilities, Mr. Quin asked i: FLOWERS OF WIT. 13 504. When manager, he kept a tragedy so long that he author called frequently ; and being very angry, |uin sent him to his bureau and desired him to take it. \fter searching for some time among several other plays, nd not finding his own ; ' Well,' said Quin, ' be con- ;nt— take two comedies and a farce for it.' 505. Being asked, what he thought of the conduct T the people of England with regard to the Bottle Con- jrer, Elizabeth Canning, and the Cock-Lane Ghost ; Tbe first,' he answered, ' was a proof of their ridicu- >us credulity ; the second, of their extravagant folly ; nd the last, of their blind superstition.' RACINE. 506. ' In one year I have written half a dozen trage- ies,' said an arrogant scribbler to Racine ; but you ave written only one tragedy in half a dozen years.* True,' said the poet ; ' but my tragedy was Athalia. id you never read Esop's Fables ? Some one re- roached a lioness that she brought but one young one a birth. I allow it, she replied ; but that one is a on.' DR. RADCLIFFE. 507. Attending an intimate friend in a dangerous ness, he declared, in an unusual strain of generosity, iat he would not take a fee. At last when the cure as complete, and the physician was taking his leave, I have put every day's fee,' said the patient, * in thw jrse, my dear doctor ; nor must your goodness get the Iter of my gratitude.' The doctor eyed the purse, anted the days of his attendance in a moment ; and 14 FLOWERS OE WIT. then extending his hand by a kind of professional m chanical motion, replied : ' Well, 1 can hold out longer : single J could have refused the guineas ; bi all together, they are irresistible.' 508. He could never be brought to pay bills withe much importunity. A paviour, after long and fruith attempts, caught him just getting out of his chariot his own door in Bloomsbury Square, and set upon hir 1 Why, you rascal,' said the doctor, l do you prete to be paid for such a piece of work? why, you ha spoiled my pavement, and then covered it over w earth to hide your bad work,' 4 Doctor,' said the pa 1 our. ' mine is not the only bad work that the eai hides.' ' You dog you,' said the doctor, k are yoi wit ? You must then be poor, so come in :' and he p3 him. 509- Amongst the many faceti ambilion,je me cache sous Vherbe; J\fais si survotre front je puis me voir unjour. La plus humble desflcurs sera la plus superbe." The Petition of the Violet. " Beneath the friendly hawthorn's spray, A native of the lowly vale, I bashful shun the eye of day, And with my breath perfume the gate. FLOWERS OP WIT. I / Like you in modest garb attir'd, A foe to show and gay parade, Less seen, by all the more admir'dy 1 flourish in the rural shade. O place me on thy snowy breast ! Exalted to that throne of love, The humblest violet, so bless'd, The proudest of the flowers will prove. SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 517. He managed his pencil with- such consummate ill, that it had a kind of magic effect, and attracted ound him the beautiful, the illustrious, and the opulent, bo could never sufficiently recompense him for the egance, grace, and spirit which he infused into their >rtraits. The evanescent nature of his colours has ;en a just subject of regret, and was the subject like- ise of an excellent pun. The late duchess of Devon- ire said, with an allusion to this defect, and to the ccess of the artist in a competition with some of his rals, ' That Sir Joshua came off w\ih flying colours.' In the recent exhibition in Pall Mall, it was gratify- l to observe, that in some of the pictures there was a iiderness rather than a failure of colours; many are allowed rather than faded, and have lost none of their irit. It is not easy to determine whether sir Joshua Rey- lds is more to be admired as a painter than a writer. s thoughts are so just and noble, and his style is so rse and luminous, that his Discourses appear like the oductions of one who had laboured incessantly in erary composition. Yet so numerous and so masterly his paintings, that they appear to have constituted 3 sole business of his life. He has illustrated his ories of excellence by his own practice ; and well ly the praise bestowed by Pope upon Longinus be plied to him : — " His own example strengthens all his laws, And ia himself the grejxt eublime he draws.'* 18 FLOWERS OF WIT. He was as amiable as a man, as he was illustrious a an artist. His house was the resort of men of genius and he entertained them not more by his elegant ho.< pitality, than he charmed them with the gentleness c his temper, the urbanity of his manners, and his ric and lively conversation. 518. It was one of his favourite maxims, ' That the gestures of children are graceful, and that the reig of distortion and unnatural attitude commences wit the introduction of the dancing-master.' The following remark is worthy of so eminent, ei lightened, and liberal an artist. 519. * The only wages a real genius thinks of in h labour is the praise of impartial judges.' 520. To his own pictures may be applied what fc used to say respecting those of Rubens : ' They resen ble a well chosen nosegay, in which, though the colou are splendid and vivid, they are never glaring or o\ pressive to the eye.' 521. He was so deeply impressed by the transcenci ent genius of Michael Angelo, that in the last speeci which he made as president of the Royal Academy, h thus concludes : ' I reflect not without vanity, that the* discourses bear testimony of this truly divine man and I should desire that the last words which I shou!, pronounce in this Academy, from this place, might I the name of Michael Angelo, Michael Angelo!' 522. In a party dining at general Paoli's, the sul : ject of wine-drinking was introduced, which sir Joshi defended : and Bosweli at that time drinking water, imitation of Dr. Johnson, the latter exclaimed, ' Be well is a bolder combatant than sir Joshua ; he argu for wine without the help of wine, but sir Joshua wi it.' Sir Joshua replied, ' But to please one's compai is a strong motive.' Johnson, supposing many in til company to be elevated, exclaimed, ' I won't arg FLOWERS OF WIT. 19 jiy more with you, sir ; you are too far gone.' Sir psbua mildly answered, 4 1 should have thought so in- ked, sir, had I made such a speech as you have now )ne. ' On this Johnson drew himself up, blushing, as os well describes him, and said, ' Nay don't be angry, did not mean to offend you.' 523. The bishop of St. Asaph, as he was sitting to Joshua, asked him how it was that Garrick had not ?en able to make any excellent players with all his tructions. ' Partly,' replied sir Joshua, ' because ey all imitate him, and then it becomes impossible ; this is like a man resolving to walk always behind other ; and whilst this resolution lasts, it is impossible should ever be on a pace with him.' 324. Hi3 delicacy of conduct was remarkable. Mr. rke remarked to him the peculiar advantages which tain situations gave to those who chose to make use them. ' For instance ; you who are so much in pri- e with persons of the highest rank and power, when y are sitting for their pictures, at moments also when y are at leisure and in good humour, might obtain ours from them, which would give you a patronage lost equal to that of a prime minister.' There is le truth in what you say,' answered sir Joshua ; ' but v could I presume to ask favours from those, to whom came known only by my obligations to them ?' ONATHAN RICHARDSON, Junior. 25. Lord Chesterfield said, in a debate in the se of lords, to the lord that sat next him, ' that he Id put the nation in a way to be never more in fear v .he Pretender's succeeding to the crown, viz. by tinghim elector of Hanover ; for that we should be never to send for any body over from thence again.' hardson said, ' That though he thought this had as h wit as any bon-mot he had ever heard, yet he eved lord Chesterfield had more wit than to say it.' 20 FLOWERS ©F WIT. CARDINAL RICHELIEU. 526. An officious informer came to tell cardin Richelieu of certain free expressions that some persoi| had used in speaking of him. ' Why how now !' i the cardinal ; k do you dare to come and call me at these names to my face under pretence of their havir been said by honest gentlemen V and, ringing his be) said to the page in waiting, ' Kick that fellow dow stairs.' HYACINTHUS RIGAUD, 527. A celebrated painter. Although he was man who had a turn for gallantry, he was not very for of painting ladies. 'If,' saicfhe, ' I represent the exactly as they are, they will not think themselv, handsome enough ; and if I flatter them excessivel then their pictures will not be like them.' 528. A lady who reuged very highly, and whoi likeness he had taken, complained that he did not u tfood colours for her picture, and asked him where bought them. c I believe, madam,' said he, ' you ai| I both deal at the same shop.* SIR GEORGE ROOKE. 529* When the gallant sir George Rooke was ma 1 inghis will, some of his friends expressed their surpril that he had so little to leave. 4 It is true,' said the I ble admiral, * I do not leave much ; bu1 what I do b queath was honourably gained : for it never cosi sailor a tear, nor the nation a farthing.' ROUSSEAU. Letter from Frederick of Prussia. 530. i Come, dear Rousseau ; I offer you a house, pension, and liberty.* FLOWERS OF WIT. 21 The Answer of Rousseau. ' Your majesty offers me an asylum, and promises le liberty : but you have a sword, and you are a king, 'ou offer a pension to me, who never did you any ood ; but have you bestowed one on each of the brave len who have lost either a leg or an arm in your ser- ice r DR. ROSE. 531. It was an annual custom for Dr. Johnson *s x)kseller to invite his authors to dine with him ; and was on such an occasion that Dr. Johnson and Dr. ose of Chiswick met, when a dispute began on the re-eminence of English to Scotch writers. In the >urse of conversation, Warburton's name was men- Diied ; when Dr. Rose observed, ' What a proud im- rious man he was V Dr. Johnson answered, * Sir, so j was ; but he possessed more learning than has been iported from Scotland since the days of Buchanan/ Rose, after enumerating several Scotch authors, id, ' What think you of David Hume, sir V * He was deistical scribbling fellow,' was the answer. ' W T ell, it so ; but what think you of lord Bute ?' Johnson — did not know that he ever wrote any thing.' Rose — Jo ! I think he has written one line, that has outdone y thing that Shakspeare or Milton or any one else er wrote.' Johnson—' Pray what was that, sir?' *se — 4 It was when he wrote an order for your pension, Johnson, who was quite confounded, exclaimed, Vhy, that was a very fine line to be sure, sir.' SIR PETER PAUL RUBENS. This greatest painter of the Flemish school was loured by the friendship of many kings and princes : he was an able statesman and an accomplished olar. He was twice married ; his second wife was lena Forment, a lady of exquisite beauty, who serv- 22 FLOWERS OF WIT- cd him as a model when he painted the Virtues ai the Graces. He resided at Antwerp, in a superb mai sion, the front of which he adorned with paintings fresco. Between the court and the garden of tf house he built a rotunda, which he enriched with st; ues, busts, antique vases, pictures of the best mastei and ancient coins and medals. He received the vis; of several sovereign princes ; and all strangers of tas resorted to do him homage. He admitted these vis the more readily, as they did not interfere with t course of his occupations. He worked with such fac ity, that it was his custom to have a person read to hii while he was painting, the most celebrated authors, a: particularly the poets. He was so well convinced the assistance which even the most fertile imaginati can derive from poetry, that he made a collection the finest passages of the poets, and he frequently p rused them before he began any of his great wort He was not ignorant that the genius of Homer had ki died the invention of Phidias, when he gave to his J piter that sublime character, which made his stat the admiration of antiquity. 532. Although Rubens was employed as an ambj, sador, and had other lucrative appointments, yet acknowledged that to his art of painting he was indel ed for a!l his riches. An English chemist came o day to visit him, and promised to share with him t treasures of his secret, if he would be at the expen! of building a laboratory. After giving a patient he35. This celebrated philosopher and poet was born Bchiras, in Persia, and flourished in the twelfth cen- He made use of the most pleasing apologues to ivey religious and moral instruction. ' 1 was walk- i with a triend,' said Sadi, ' in the heat of the day, i grove of trees that formed an arch of foliage so :k as completely to exclude the rays of the meridian ; a clear stream meandered at our feet, and enliv- d the beautiful verdure of the grassy carpet, and all se charms of nature invited us to repose. 1 saw a ked man asleep in this dejightful place. ' Great' i 1' said I, 'does not the consciousness of his crimes vent his rest V My friend heard me, and said, 'God 3s sleep to the bad, in order that the good may be isturbed.' ' 36. One day, when I was in the bath, a friend e me a piece of scented clay. I took it, and said to 15 24 FLOWERS OF WIT. it, 'Art thou musk, or ambergris? for 1 am charm' with thy deligtful perfume.' It answered, ' I was* despicable piece of clay ; but I was some time company with the rose, the sweet quality of my coif panion was communicated to me, otherwise I shou have been only a piece of earth, as I appear to b< 537. Conversing with a philosopher, I asked h from what persons he had derived his knowledg which was peculiarly accurate and solid. 'From t blind,'' he replied ; 'because they never lift up feet without first sounding with their slicks the grou upon which they intend to tread.* SANTEUIL. 538. A fair lady to whom the poet Santeuil owed sum of money, met him one day, and asked him why did not visit her as formerly. 'Is it,' said she, 'becai you are in my debt? No madam, that is not what preve: me; but you are yourself the cause that you are not pa 'How so?' said the lady. 'It is,' continued the poi 'because when 1 see you, I forget every thing else! I 539. A certain clergyman preached at St. Men, and did not please his audience. Santeuil, who w present, said, 'This preacher did much better 1; year,' Some one observed, 'How so ? he did not prea at all last year. Tor that very reason,' said Santeij 'he did much better. 1 PETER PAUL SARPI. 510. Hk was honoured by the learned for his gn abilities and erudition, and by the good for his integ ty. He ably defended the cause of the senate of V« ice against the claims of the Pope to infalibiiity, and, a power paramount to all other human aurthori Compelled by various conspiracies of the vindict FLOWERS OF WIT. 2a pists to confine himself to his convent in Venice, he •ote the History of the Council of Trent, esteemed a model of historical composition. Convinced of the rruption of the court of Rome, and the artifices of its issaries, he said, 'There is nothing' more desirable n to abolish the institution of the Jesuits : the urch of Rome will be involved in their ruin ; and if >me be ruined, religion will reform of itself.' 541. In his last illness, which was caused by a und from a stiletto, said to be inflicted by an emissa- from the court of Rome, he received a visit from doge and senate of Venice. He had merely ength enough to raise himself up in his bed, at their ranee into his apartment ; and, with his hands clasp- together, and his eyes lifted towards heaven, he claimed with his expiring breath, alluding to his dear tive city, ' Esto perpetual SIR HENRY SAVIL. 542. * Pray, sir Henry,' said the earl of Essex' hat is your opinion of poets V ' I think them,' said Henry, ' the best writers, next to those that write HE APPLICATION OF SCRIPTURE. The application of passages taken from the holy -iptures to common subjects are in general to be lsured ; but in some cases they are so ingenious, ■ticularly when one is retorted upon another, that Cannot help admiring them. >43. When John duke of Anjou approached Naples, the head of a great army, to besiege that place, he reed these words, taken from the Gospel of St. John, )e inscribed on his standards. ' Fuit missus cui no - FLOWERS OF WIT. from the same chapter : * Ipse venit, et non receperi «W/7l.' The following is perhaps one of the neatest allusi retorts of this kind that ever was made. 544. Mr. Danez was sent by the court of France the council of Trent, wherein he made a vehenu speech against the court of Rome, and in favour of tl reformation of the church. As soon as he had finis ed, an Italian prelate said, with an expression of c< tempt, ' G alius cantat. 1 Mr. Danez instantly exclai ed, ' Utinam ad Galli canlum Petrus resipisceret /' SECRECY.' 545. Sir Thomas Pope, the founder of Trinity C lege in the university of Oxford, took this sentence I the motto of his arms, ' Quod taciturn velis, nemi dixeris? and experience proves the wisdom of t caution it conveys. He well knew the weakness) mankind, and how eager many are to disclose all th are told, even at the risk of safety and the expense honour. 546. Demetrius the son of Antigonus the Great, as ed his father on what day he intended to give the er my battle. * Are you afraid,' said he, * my son, tt you will not hear the sound of the trumpet V 547. In the war of the French revolution, in 179 the king of Prussia, the duke of Brunswick, and ger 1 ral Clairfait, made a combined, and, as they thought most unexpected attack upon the republican army ; b> to their great surprise, they found their enemies wc fully prepared for them, ranged in regular order battle, and gave them such a warm reception they were obliged to retreat with considerable Io At a council of war held immediately afterwards, which the above mentioned persons were present, ge eral Clairfait, fixing his eyes steadily on the king FLOWERS OF WIT. 27 rus.ia, said, ' one of us three is a traitor.' ' Hpw so ?' lid the king, looking confused. * I repeat,'' said the eneral, ' that one of us three is a traitor, or our well- pncerted plan could not possibly have failed of suc- bss.' 4 I can assure you,' said the king of Prussia, Ithat I never whispered a word upon the subject to any Mman being, except to madame de R * * * *.' ' What t faithless counsellor, or rather what a perfect novice in e ways of the world, you must be !' exclaimed the iraged general Clairfait. * Could you possibly have ken a more effectual method to sacrifice us to the rench army, than by blabbing our secret to a French- oman SIR CHARLES SEDLEY, 548. James II. had created miss Sedley his mistress, e daughter of sir Charles Sedley, countess of Dor- ester. Sir Charles was, however, instrumental in e revolution which placed William and Mary on the rone. Being reproached for this conduct, as a proof ingratitude to James, who had ennobled his daugh- r, he answered : k He has made my daughter a coun- ; and how can I show my gratitude better than by aking his daughter a queen ?' GEORGE SELWYN. 549. Two men, of the names of Fox and Burke, were nged one morning at Tyburn. George Selwyn, who s remarkably fond of attending the executions of minals, was asked by the two great orators of the ove names, of whom he was not fond, whether he d been present at Tyburn to see Fox and Burke ned off. ' No,' said he * for I don't think it worth lile to attend rehearsals.'' i550. George Selwyn travelling in a stage coach was :erupted by the frequent impertinence of a compan- ), who was constantly teasing him with questions, and 1.5* 28 FLOWERS OF WIT. asking him how he did. * How are you now, sir \ said the impertinent. ' Very well,' said George Se wyn ; ' and I intend to continue so all the rest of th journey.' 551. ' How does your new-purchased horse ansxscer'i said the late duke of Cumberland to George Selwyi 1 I really don't know,' replied George, ' for 1 neve asked him a question.' SENECA. 552. This acute philosopher soon discovered th natural cruelty of his pupil Nero ; but knowing th< the stubborness of some dispositions might be softene( he endeavoured to correct what he could not chang< With this view he wrote his treatise on Clemency. Sei eca, apprehensive that Nero was going to sacrifice sei eral noble Romans to his suspicions, had the courag to say to him, ' Whatever be the number of persor you put to death, know that you cannot kill your su< cessor. LORD SHAFTESBURY. 553. The Life of this nobleman, in the Biograph , Britannica, is a kind of Panegyric, rather than a hist<| ry of him. Fear of his sovereign did not damp tfcj freedom of his wit. Chales II. said to him, ' Shafte| bury, I believe thou art the wickedest man in England He bowed, and replied, ' For a subject, sir, perhaps am.' SHAKSPEARE. Every additional anecdote of this incomparab dramatist is to be the more highly valued, because t\ details of his biographers are so scanty. John Aubre; who was a diligent collector of the Memorabilia ij many eminent Englishmen, gives the following sketd FLOWERS OF WIT. 29 Shakspeare, which is the more curious, as he lived near his time. 554. Aubrey says that ' Shakspeare was a handsome ill-shaped man, very good company, and of a very adie and pleasant smooth witt. One time as he was the tavern at Stratford-upon-Avon, one Combes, an I rich usurer, was to be buryed, he makes there this temporary epitaph : — ' Ten in the hundred the devil allows But Combes will have twelve he swears and vows ; If any one asks who lives in this tombe, Iloh ! quoth the devil, 'tis my John o Combe.' 555. Shakspeare was wont to say that he never blot- I out a line in his life : said Ben Jonson, I wish he d blotted out a thousand.' The following anecdote is taken from a manuscript Mr. Le Strange, preserved in the British museum, luctant as we must be to * lose one drop of this im- >rtal man,' we confess that the joke which is intend- to give a point to the anecdote, is infinitely beJow 5 genius, even in its most idle and careless play, ir great inducement to insert it is, that probably it ver before appeared in a collection of this kind ; and proves that Skakspeare and Ben Jonson were once terms of intimacy, however cold and jealous the lat- became in a subsequent period of life. ^56. * Shakspeare was god-father to one of Ben nsons children ; and after the christening being in deepe study, Jonson came to cheer him up, and t'd him why he was so melancholy. ' No faith, n,' says he, ' not I ; but I have beene considering a ?at while, what should be the fittest gift for me to tow upon my god-child, and I have resolved at last.' pr'y thee what V says he. ' I' faith Ben, I'll give n a dozen good latten spoons, and thou shalt translate ;m.' 30 i-'LOWERS OF Wll. DR. SHARP. Dr. Sharp, of Hart Hall, Oxford, bad a trick of r peating, in almost every sentence he spoke, the won I say. To his friend, who ridiculed hitn for the pra< tice, he made the following speech, * I say they say you say I say I say ; I say, what if I do say I say ? I say, what business have you to say I say?' DR. THOMAS SHAW. 558. The improvement a person derives from fc travels, evinces the great inferiority of common preji dices. Dr. Thomas Shaw, an Oxford divine, was i eminent traveller. On his return to England from tl East, he happened to be in a company where the conve sation turned on the luxuries of the table. A gentl man remarked, that he thought English dishes superi to those of any other country. ' You show your coi tracted notions of good living,' said Dr. Shaw, ' b this remark : had you fortunately been with me in tl kingdom of Morocco, you would have improved yoi! taste ; for there 1 feasted upon bear soup, stewn serpents, and lion cutlets cabobo'd.^ DR. SHERIDAN. 559. There was a mutual attachment between tfj doctor and miss Mac Faden. He called one morni^ to take leave of her for a few days, before he set oi p on a journey. She asked him, in a tone of voice th. well expressed more than the words that accompanic it, how long he intended to stay away : to which 1; immediately answered, * You ask how long I'll stay from thee, Suppress those rising fears, If you should reckon time like, me, perhaps ten thousand years,' FLOWERS OF WIT. 31 MR. SHERIDAN. 660. When Mr. Pitt was very young in office, seve- (angry altercations took place between him and Mr. leridan in the debates in the house of commons. He ce said to Sheridan, ' You had better withdraw your ention from politics, and direct it exclusively to the ge, where the display of your abilities cannot fail to luse the public' Sheridan was piqued at this pro- sional allusion ; and instantly replied, ' If I do turn f attention to the stage, I cannot be at a loss for a di- rting character ; I will certainly, in compliment to u, revive the part of the angry boy in the old play of i Alchemist. 561. When the School for Scandal was first acted, r. Cumberland was asked to give his opinion of it. am astonished,' said he, ' that the town can be so mpletely mistaken as to think there is either wit or mour in this comedy : I went to see it, and it made s as grave as a judge.' This singular opinion was )orted to Sheridan. 4 Mr. Cumberland,' said he, * is y ungrateful ; for when I went to see his tragedy of Carmelite, I did nothing but laugh from the begin- ig to the end.' MRS. SIDDONS. 562. At the tirm: when Mrs. Siddons had just reach- her high theatrical fame, and had acted some of her Ticipal characters to the admiration of all who he- ld her, a formal assembly of learned ladies, consist- of Mrs. Montagu, Mrs. Carter, Miss Hannah More, 1 sundry other members of the 6a s bleu met, and pre- led'upon Mrs. Siddons to be of the party. Their ect was to examine her, and to get from her the se- t how she could act with such wonderful effect. s. Montagu was deputed to be the prolocutress of i female convocation ' Pray, madam,' said she to s. Siddons, addressing her in the most formal man- 32 FLOWERS OF WIT. ner, ' give me leave to interrogate you, and to requ< you will tell us without duplicity or mental reservatu upon what principle you conduct your dramatic ( meanour. Is your mode of acting, by which you ( tain so much celebrity, the result of certain studi principles of art ? Have you investigated, with profou research, the rules of elocution and gesture, as h down by the antients and moderns, and reduced th« to practice ? or do you suffer nature to predomina and only speak the untutored language of the passion. ' Ladies,' said the modern Thalia, with great diffidero but without hesitation, 'I do not know how. to answ so learned a speech. All I know of the matter, a all I can tell you is, that 1 always act as well as I ca SIR HENRY SIDNEY. 563. He was the virtuous and brave father of a s more renowned son, sir Philip Sydney- To a friend a very fretful temper and very querulous, he said, the genuine spirit of an antient philosopher : ' Tak< from "me, A weak man complains of others, an unfor nate man of himself, but a wise man complains neitl of others nor of himself.' SIGISMUND, EMPEROR OF GERMANS 564. Being one day asked what was the surest me od of remaining happy in this world, replied, ' Only fn health, what you have promised to do when y; were sick.' SIR SIDNEY SMITH. 565. An officer maintained, in the presence of Sir Smith, that he could not assault a particular post, I cause it was unattackable. w Sir,' said the gallant chi * that word is not English.* FLOWERS OF WIT. 33 SOCRATES. 566. * This wise Athenian cross M a glittering fair ; imov'd by tongues and sights he walk'd the place, irough tape, tags, tinsel, gimp, perfume and lace ; len bends from Mars's Hill his awful eyes, id * What a world 1 never want !' he cries.' Parnell. 567. Socrates being asked what was the best mode .gaining a high reputation, said, * To be what you ap- tar to be.' 368. Archelaus, a powerful monarch, offered Socra- a handsome pension, if he would come and reside at court. The answer of the philosopher was as in- Dendent as laconic : ' At Athens meal is two pence measure, and water may be had for nothing.' SOLYMAN THE MAGNIFICENT. 69. When Solyman the Magnificent marched to the quest of Belgrade, in 1521, a woman of the com- n sort approached him, and complained bitterly, t while she was sleeping, soldiers had carried off her le, and this was all the property she had. ' You 5t have been buried in very deep sleep,' said the peror, ' not to hear the noise the robbers made.' cb,' sire, was indeed the case,' replied the woman : • I slept in full confidence that your highness was ching over the public safety.' As Solyman was ghted with this answer, it is almost needless to add, he ordered full amends to be made for her loss. THE SPARTANS. 70. A dancer said to a Spartan, ' You cannot d so long on one leg as I can.' ' Perhaps not,' said Spartan : ' but any goose can/ 34 FLOWERS OP WIT. 571. Some Spartans as they travelled met a pers who told them they were fortunate, for a gang of I bers had just left that place. ' No,' answered one them, ' the robbers were fortunate.' 572. A beggar asking alms of a Spartan, he answ ed, ' If I grant what you crave, I shall make you a m confirmed beggar ; he who first gave you money, tauj, you laziness.' 573. A traveller, observing the respect paid to j in Sparta, said, ' Here alone it is a pleasure to gi| old. 574. A Spartan mother, after the first news of a I: tie, went out of the city to obtain more intelligen A messenger came and informed her, that both I sons were among the slain. ' Wretch !' said she, did not inquire the fate of my sons, but that of i country.' When told that Sparta was victorious, exclaimed, ' Then 1 rejoice in the death of my sons) 575. A Spartan mother presented a shield to her | going to battle, with these words, ' Son, either this, upon this.' 576. Another to her son, complaining that his swHern fj ss. In midst of famine we have found relief, Anrl°< ; enthe raise. It is said of him, that ' there never was a molar more humble, a wit more devout, or a man more "miable in society.' 596. Some person reported to him, that a malicious n emy spoke ill of him to all the world. ' Let him ersevere,' said Tasso ; ' his rancour gives me no pain, fow much better is it that he should speak ill of me all the world, than that all the world should speak I of me to him !' 597. Tasso being told, that he had a fair opportu- ty of taking advantage of a very bitter enemy ; ' I ish not,' said he, * to plunder him ; but there are ings I wish to take away from him ; not his honour, 3 wealth, or his life — but his ill will.' Boileau has been too severe in his censures of the rusalemme Liberata. His delicate taste, it seems, is offended by the clinquant of Tasso. Now it is very narkable that Boileau himself, in one of the few oi -ig- 1 poems he ever wrote, his Ode sur la Prise de Na- ;r, has written with hr more affectation, and deco- ed his poem with the same kind of tinsel, which he so ch dislikes in Tasso. 16* 40 FLOWERS OF WIT. 598. It seems necessary for a man of genius to have some predecessor to show him the road to excellence : Tasso said of himself— ' If 1 had not read the Pastor Fido of Guarini, I had not excelled it.' THALES, 599. One of the wise men of Greece. A sophist wishing to puzzle him with difficult questions, the sage of Miletus replied to them all without the least hesita- tion, and with the utmost precision. What is the oldest of all things ? God, because h< has always existed. What is the most beautiful ? The world, because i is the work of God. What is the greatest of all things ? Space, because i contains all that has been created. What, is the most constant of all things ? Hope, be cause it still remains with man, after he has lost ever thing else. What is the best of all things ? Virtue, because witlj out it there is nothing good. What is the quickest of all things ? Thought, bi cause in less than a moment it can fly to the end oft! universe. What is the strongest ? Necessity, which makes mi face all the dangers of life. What is the easiest ? To give advice. What is the most difficult? To know yourself. W r hat is the wisest ? Time, for it discovers all thing THE RIVER THAMES. GOO Fuller justly says, in his 'Worthies of Englan that London owes it grandeur and opulence, i der God's providence, to the well-conditioned r'v Thames, which employs its greatness in goodness to be beneficial to commerce by the reciprocation the tides. Hence it was that when king James I., fended with the City, threatened to remove his cour another place, the Lord mayor boldly enough told hi! FLOWER* 05' VVIT. 41 — ' Your majesty may remove the court at your pleas- tire, but you cannot remove the river Thames.' THEMISTOCLES. 601. Antjent Greece can boast of no hero more il- ustrious. The victory he obtained in the Bay of Sal- imis over the Persian fleet, by which he prolonged the ndependence of his country, immortalized his name. \s a general, his talents were consummate : as a judge, le was inflexibly impartial. Simonides the poet request- id him to relax the rigour of justice in his favour. If you would think that poet bad,' said Themistocles, who transgresses the rules of metre, why should you lot reckon that judge infamous who holds the request f any one more sacred than the laws of his country ?' 602. A father consulted Themistocles to which of two overs he should many his daughter ; whether to a )ooi man of merit, or to a rich man of si bad character. Were I in your place,' said Themistocles, ' I should >refer a man without money, to money without a man.' 603. If we could be admitted behind the scenes of he political drama, and proceed from beholding the niblic affairs of empires to inspect their secret origin, e should be astonished at the small springs that give he first impulse to movements of the greatest import- nce. Themistocles had a son who was the darling of his lother. ' This little fellow,' said Themistocles, ' is he sovereign of all Greece.' k How so ?*. ' said a friend. Why, he governs his mother, his mother governs me, govern the Athenians, and the Athenians govern all lireece.' 604. As Themistocles was once marching amid the poils of his enemies, he said to one of his soldiers, collect those spoils for thyself, for thou art not The- listocles.' 42 FLOWERS OP WIT, THEODOSIUS THE GREAT. 605. He was born in Galicia in Spain, and flourish- ed at the end of the fourth century. He appointee judges to try persons suspected of having formed a con spiracy against him. He advised them to carry on the trials with equity and moderation. ' Our first care, said one of the judges, ' is to guard the safety of oui sovereign.' ' Rather guard his reputation' said The odosius : 'a sovereign ought to measure his life, no by length of days, but the continuance of his glory.' LORD CHANCELLOR THURLOW. He had a strongly marked countenance ; his fea tures were large, his eye-brows were shaggy and prom inent, and his eyes were expressive of uncommon intel lect and ferocious dignity. He was what Dr. Johnson calls ' truculent of aspect.' I 606. A fine buffalo was given to him, and it was kepi in an inclosure at his seat at Dulwich. This aniraa was so fierce, that even his keeper was very muc afraid of him. One day lord Thurlow expressed hi) intention to approach him. The keeper warned hit against risking such a danger ; but the chancellor cai rying a stout stick in his hand, walked slowly up t the animal, and looked at him with an aspect so grirj and terrific, that the buffalo turned aside and retired! * My lord,' exclaimed the trembling keeper, ' I am asi tonished at your boldness.' ' Your astonishment,' sai his master, ' only shows your ignorance ; do you nci know, that man is ordained to be the lord of the cref! tion ; and it is only when he is poltroon enough, lik you, to distrust bis own powers, that he dares not fad any beast whatever ?' 607. A person came running almost breathless 1 chancellor Thurlow. ' My lord,' said he, * I bring yi tidings of calamity to the nation, and I do not kno FLOWERS OF WIT. 43 ow far the direful effects of it may spread to endanger ie church and state. 1 — 'What is the matter, man ?'said ie impatient chancellor. 'My lord.' continued this iaenifier of political mischief,' a rebellion has broken jt.'— ' Where, where V « In the Isle of Man.—' A reb- ellion in the Isle of Man,' repeated the vociferous and ringed chancellor ; ' a tempest in a tea-pot !' There is a similar idea in Athenaeus. TIBERIUS. 608. Ambassadors came from Ilium to offer their mdolence to the emperor Tiberius, on the death of s son Drusus, a considerable time after that event. n return,' said Tiberius, ' for these very prompt ex- essions of your sympathy, I assure you of my very ep sorrow for the loss of your countryman Hector." 609. Gratified as he was with the incense of flattery* was sometimes compelled to listen to the voice ot ith. He wrote the history of his own life, and paid eat attention to the style. He consulted Ateius Cap- a great grammarian, respecting a word which he spected not to be pure. Ateius, who was a gross flat- er, said, that although the word was not sanctioned antient usage, yet the authority of the emperor mped it genuine. Another grammarian was more cere : ' Cresar,' said he, ' you can confer the edom of Home upon men, but you cannot give it to rds.' fHE MARQUIS DE TIERCEVILLE., 10. A French gentleman, presenting in a jocose nner this young marquis to a lady ot his acquaint- 3. ' Madam,' said be, " this is the marquis de Tier- ille, and he is not so great a fool as he looks to be.' adam,' answered the young marquis, ' this is the ct difference between This gentleman and me,' 44 FLOWERS OF WIT. ARCHBISHOP TILLOTSON. 611. Archdeacon Reeves observed in the library of archbishop Tillotson, a shelf of books of various forms and sizes, all richly bound and finely gilt and lettered. He asked his grace, why they were so dis- tinguished. ' These,' said the archbishop, ' are my own personal friends ; and what is more, I have my- self made them such, for they meant to be my enemies. I have used those hints their malice suggested, and from* them I have received more profit than from the advice of my best friends. It is for this reason, as you may see, I have rewarded them accordingly.' A PICTURE OF THE TIMES. 6'12. Sitting once in my library,' said Mr. Harris, ' with a friend, a worthy but melancholy man, I read him out of a book, the following passage : ' In our time it may be spoken more truly than of old, that virtue is gone, the church is under foot, the clergy is in error, the devil reigneth.' My friend interrupted me with a sigh, and said, ' Alas, how true, how just a picture o! the times !' I asked him of what times. ' Of what times ?' replied he with emotion ; ' can you suppose any other but the present — were any before ever so| ls corrupt, so bad?' ' Forgive me,' said 1, ' for stopping! you; the times I am reading of are older than you imPl agine ; the sentiment was delivered about four hunmt dred years a%o ; its author sir John Mandeville, who*dile r ed in 1371." JOHN HORNE TOOKE. No man ever displayed more subtlety or coolness judgment in the discussion of arguments that arose the course of conversation. But when he obtained seat in the house of commons, he seemed out of his el ment, and spoke more like a casuistical attorney tha an eloquent senator. What Tacitus said of Galba, ma; FLOWERS OF WIT. 45 be applied to hitn as a member of parliament ; he was, ' Major imperio, nisi imperasset.' 613. In mixed conversation he was full of pleasantry, on politics alone he was bitter and inflexible. During the fervour of the French revolution, he talked as if England was upon the verge of a great political change. Quod volumusjacile credimus. Conversing upon the nature of the aristocratical part of the British constitu- tion, he said to a person who thought very differently to himself, ' I trust we shall live to see the day, when the distinction of titles will be abolished, and we may eat our mutton without being teased with such childish subjects as ribbons, and stars, and garters.' Instead of living to see his Utopian dreams of equal- ity realized in Great Britain, he lived to see ' the Child ind Champion of Jacobinism' revive the order of no- bility in France ; and as if to show his contempt for J the Rights of Man,' he decked his satellites with those liristocratical insignia, for which the old court of France jiad been so much persecuted by the democrats. 614. When he heard of some failures of meirchants n the city, he said, ' You are not going, you are gone, t is not a slight hurt, but a mortal gangrene.' 615. His opinion upon the subject of law was admir- * ble. ' Law,' he said, ' ought to be, not a luxury for ;Jhe rich, but a remedy, to be easily, cheaply, and peedily obtained by the poor.' A person observed him how excellent are the English laws, because hey are impartial, and our courts of justice are open ) all persons without distinction. ' And so,' said 'ooke, ' is the London tavern, to such as can afford to ay for their entertainment.' 616. He was very severe in his criticisms on authors, le underrated the talents of Harris, the author of lermes, &c. A person observed, that Harris was a lan of great erudition, as appeared by his numerous 46 FLOWERS OF WIT. quotations, in support of his opinions. ' It may be i said Tooke ; ' but as judges shelter their knavery precedents, so do scholars their ignorance by auth< ity.' 617. He said of a certain barrister, whom he beli ed to be a perfect democrat, ' That man would rejo to see all London burning, that he might roast his tatoes by the flames.' 618. During the time of his trial for high treasor 1794, one cold night as he was returning from the ( Baily to Newgate, a lady advancing towards him p ed up the collar of his coat, and at the same time a silk handkerchief round his neck. While she employed in this friendly attention he gaily said, 'Pr madam, be careful, for 1 am rather ticklish at pres about that place. 9 6 1 9. He was accused of being implicated with I dy and the other prisoners, in the design of going lengths with them in their career of political re fori demolition. 'They might,' said he, 'intend tog' far as the king at Windsor ; but 1 defy my accuser prove, by an} 7 overt acts of mine, that I intendec accompany my friends any farther than Brentford.*\ CHARLES TOWNSEND. 620. Lord flf***'*, an Irish nobleman, wa3 rei able for no small share of vanity. When he w dulging in his favourite strain of egotism in a^ company, he made the following remark : ' VAL happen to say a foolish thing, I always burst c laughing.' ' I envy your happiness then,' said Chj Townsend, 'for you must live the merriest life of man in Europe.' LADY TYRCONNEH. 1. The laurels which James II. won by sea hi FLOWERS OF WIT. 47 >y Jand. Having been a spectator of the battle of the wne, on the first of July 1690, he thought it most >rudent, while the fortune of the day was yet undecid- d, to seek his safety in flight. In a few hours he eached the castle of Dublin, where he was met by ady Tyrconnel, a woman of great spirit. 'Your coun- rymen, the Irish, madam, said James, as he was as- ending the stairs, * can run well.' 4 Not quite so well s your majesty,' retorted her ladyship, k for I see you ave won the race.' VAUGELAS. 622. He was the translator of Quintus Curtius into rench. Voiture, his friend, often riilied him, on the cessive pains he took, and told him he thought he ould never finish the work, and that he employed so uch time in polishing one part of it. that the French nguage changed, and obliged him to alter all the rest. j very happily appbed to the tardy translator, the ll-known epigram of Martial : * Eulrapelus tor's r dum rircuit ora huperci, Kxpurgitque genets, altera barba sube.it." said he, ' Altera lingua s-ubest.'' The translation, when it at last was published, was fhly commended ; and its favourable reception in- ced Balsae to say, ' That the Alexander of Quintus rtius was invincible, and the Alexander of Vaugelas milable.' 323. He obtained a pension from the king of France the interest of cardinal Richelieu ; upon which oc- ion the cardinal told him he hoped he would not ?et the word pension, in his Dictionary. ' No, my i,' said -Vaugeias, ' nor the word gratittiiie.'' 17 48 FLOWERS OF WIT. MARSHAL VILLARS. 624. When the great marshal Villars was past fou score, he gave a signal instance of his alacrity and cou age, in attacking some squadrons of Imperial horse wi the king of Sardinia's guards. That king express* his admiration of this exploit, and said, ' Although a vanced in years, you have shown all the ardour of young officer.' To this compliment the marshal rep ed, " Lamps are apt to sparkle just before they expirt 625. Marshal Villars had many enemies at the coi of Versailles. When he went there, previous to resui ing the command of the army in Flanders, ' I lea your majesty,' said he, ' in the midst of my enemii while 1 go to combat yours.' VOLTAIRE. 626. A young writer, who nattered himself he W an original genius, having consulted Voltaire respecti a tragedv, which he had filled with extravagant in' dents, Voltaire pointed out his defects. This yoi writer took pains to assure him, that it had been his < ject to keep as far from the imitation of Corneille I Racine as possible. ' So much the worse ; for do 3 not know, sir,' said Voltaire, ' that a good imitatioi the most perfect originality ?' 627. Voltaire observed, ' That what makes mod! historians insipid, is their entering into so many deta like the writers of newspapers. Antient historians not condescend to be so circumstantial ; hence Xl pictures of mankind are finished in a much higher st] and they have infinitely more spirit.' 628. He once called upon a beautiful lady, to wr, he paid this compliment^ ' Your rivals are the per;, Hon of art, but you are the perfection of nature.' FLOWERS OF WIT. 49 629. He sometimes consulted physicians, and even quacks, without having any high opinion of the efficacy of art to cure the disorders of the human constitution. Kegimen,' said he, 'is of more service than medicine : every man ought to be his own physician ; he ought to assist nature, and never force her ; but more than all, be ought to learn to bear pain, how to grow old, and low to die.' ' 630. ' Some things are injurious to us, others are sal- utary. Eat with moderation what you know by expe- dience will agree with you : nothing is good for the 'institution but what is easy of digestion. What receipt vill promote digestion ? Exercise. — What will recruit trength ? Sleep. — What will lessen even incurable viis ? Patience.' 631. The history of England appeared to him to be blackened with horrible scenes, that he said, 'it was written by an executioner, for almost all the disputes in ngland have been terminated either upon the scaffold r by the gallows.' 632. In a conversation with Mr. Sherlock, he said, The tragedy of Cato is admirably well written : Ad- ison had a great deal of taste ; but the abyss between iste and genius is immense. Shakspeare had an ast- onishing genius, but no taste : he has spoiled the taste f the English : he has been their favourite for two undred years ; and what is the taste of a nation for ivo hundred years, will continue so for two thousand.' 633. Voltaire was very fond of talking English : he Dnversed in that language with the celebrated Dr. ranklin. Miss Denis told him, it would be more jpeeable to the company if he would talk French. My dear niece,' said he, ' you cannot imagine how roud I am to converse in the language of Dr. Frank- 634. ' What is your opinion of Ariosto ?' said Vot^ 50 FLOWERS OF WIT. taire to an abbd just returned from Italy. ' I think hir a great poet,' «aid the abbe. ' I think him,' said Vol taire with some warmth, ' the greatest of poets. Hi Orlando Furioso is an enchanted palace, where 1 1 1 burlesque is so happily blended wit« the majestic, :h? one sets off the other. It is at once the Iliad, the Odyj sey, and Don Quixote.' 635. He was determined to be never outdone compliments. He said once to Vernet the painter, ii return for his praise, 'Your colours are beautiful an lasting", and your name will be immortal.' 'My colours replied Vernet, ' are not so durable as your ink :' an he was going, when he uttered these words, to kis Voltaire's hand. 'What are you going to do ?' stil Voltaire drawing back : 'If you kiss my hand, I mu kiss your feet.' 636. The following was the most apt and brill iai allusion he ever made. It would perhaps be difficu in all the annals of wit to find an instance that surpas ses it. Voltaire said many flattering things of a cell brated writer, probably Boileau. lie set, however, much higher value upon his ' Art of Poetry,' than upci his ' Poems.' ' He resembles Moses,' said Voltaini ' who pointed out the promised land to others, but nei er reached it himself.' The above are some of the most favourable spec, mens of Voltaire's facetiousness ; but their brillianc ought not to make us blind to the spirit which pervade too many of his works. The following character ( him, written by one who witnessed the calamitous effect of his publications upon the minds and the actions < bis countrymen at the beginning of the French revolt lion, is no less poignant than just. 637. ' He was the grand corruptor of the French and, with all his pretended freedom of expression, b flattered every king and every vice of his age. H Rnevy not how to strike at superstition without woundin FLOWERS OF WIT. 51 norality ; unlike Hercules, who transfixed the Centaur without hurting the beautiful Deianira. With his eier- \al sardonic smile, he has bequeathed us a shamelul Pyrrhonism and a cruel levity, which make us glide itike over virtues and vices.'* LORD WALGRAVE. 638. Lord Walgrave abjured the Catholic religion, ind was a long time ambassador at Paris. He was 6ne ay teazed upon ( the subject of his conversion by the uke of Berwick! ' Pray,' said he, ■ Mr. Ambassador, ho had most to do in your conversion, the ministers state or the ministers of religion V ' This is a ques- on,' said his lordship, ' you must excuse my answer- g, for when 1 ceased to be a Catholic, 1 renounced nifession.' EDMUND WALLER. 639. A motion was made in the house of commons, the time of the grand rebellion, that such men as :re chosen to serve in the parliament's troops should '.faithful and skilful riders. Mr. Waller said, ' He uch approved the motion ; for it is very necessary e riders be faithful, lest they run away with the hor- s ; and .skilful, lest their horses run away with the lers.' 40. King Charles II., after the Restoration, told Wal- , that he had made better verses and said finer things the usurper Cromwell than of him : ' That may very " be,' said Waller, ' for poets generally succeed tter in fiction than in telling truth.' 341. King James II. treated him with great kindness i familiarity. One day, taking him into his closet, : king asked him how he liked one of the pictures. Iy eyes,' said Waller, then at a very advanced age, ♦Nouveau Tableau de Paris, par Mercier. 17* 52 FLOWERS OF WIT. 1 are dim, and I do not know it.' The king said it vva the princess of Orange. * She is,' said Waller, ' lik the greatest woman in the world.' The king aske who that was ; and was answered, Queen Elizabetl 4 1 wonder,' said the king, ' you should think so ; b* I must confess she had a wise council.' ' And, sir,' sai Waller, ' did you ever know a fool choose a wise one' 642. When the king knew that he was about to ma: ry his daughter to Dr. Birch, a clergyman, he ordere a French gentleman to tell him, that the king wonde ed he could think of marrying his daughter to a fallin church. ' The king,' said Waller, k does me gre; honour, in taking notice of my domestic affairs ; but have lived long enough to observe, that this fallir church has got a trick of rising again.' 643. The poet Waller to a lady singing one of h own songs : i That eagle's fate and mine are one, Who on the shaft that made him die, Espied a feather of his own, Wherewith he wont to soar so high.' LADY WALLIS. 644. Lady Wallis, seeing a gentleman saunterirj about in one of her parties, said, 4 Pray, sir, do yt play cards?' 'No, my lady.' ' Do you dance • No,' repeated the saunterer. ' Then, sir,' said sh- ' give me leave to say, you are neither useful nor o namental.' SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 645. One day in the house of commons, a speaker; opposition to the ministry, and famous for his long hi rangues, had been upon his legs nearly two hours, i veighing against sir Robert's measures. He was lenced For several days, by sir Robert telling the k towing story. ' A short time ago,' said the premier, 'I FLOWERS OF WIT. 53 *as travelling in the west of England with two ladies tnd a gentleman. Our carriage was in very good re- >air, the roads were- very smooth, and the coachman vas an expert driver. One of the ladies, however, ap- peared to be greatly terrified, crying out every minute, |re should be overturned, or, the carriage would cer- ainly break down. This language she held for several liles, whilst I endeavoured to prevail upon her to lay side her apprehensions, assuring her we were in no tanger whatever, that we were travelling in the greatest [ecurity imaginable, and that all her fears were entirely roundless. At length the gentleman, her brother, urst into a violent laugh, saying, his sister knew per- BCtly well we were safe, but having a melodious voice, nd a fluency of words, she was very fond of hearing erself talk : and sir Robert concluded with observing, that several gentlemen in the opposition exactly re- embled the lady he had mentioned ; for though they lust be convinced that the state vehicle was in per- ctly good repair, and was well conducted, yet they ere so fond of hearing themselves harangue, that they ized every opportunity of indulging their loquacity at le expense of their judgment. HORACE WALPOLE, 646. Hearing that two of his female relations had jarrelled, asked, * Did they call each other ugly ?' No.' * Well, well, then,' said he, ' 1 shall soon re- )ncile them.' BISHOP WARBURTON. His abilities were powerful, and his information vari- !S, chiefly the result of the studies of bis mature age. Ithough his natural temper was haughty and imperi- ls, he was obsequious and humble whenever he thought prudent to bend to circumstances. No author was er more fond of a paradox. He was a perfect Don uixote in literature, for he saw objects as no one else w them : and when hrs imagination had once meta- 54 FLOWERS OF WIT. morphosed them into new shapes, each became as dea to hirn as a Dulcinea del Toboso, and he assailed al opponents with unabating fury. As a specimen of thi critical chivalry, he wrote a dissertation to prove, tha the descent of iEneas into the infernal regions was de signed by Virgil to describe the initiation of a novic< into the Eleusinian mysteries. Was he aware that fa ther Hardouin had made a much greater discovery for he had found out that the whole ^Eneid was an al legory. intended to describe the voyage of St. Peter t Rome ! ! ! Sir Thomas Hanmer, who knew Warburton well said, with reference to his Notes on Shakspeare, * Hi only use was in starting the game ; but he was not t be trusted in running it down.' 647. Dr. Bentley, when he saw ' The Divine Lega tion of Moses,' said, ' The author of this work has monstrous appetite, with a bad digestion.' 648. He used to say, ' That the two most difficul things to meet with in the world were, a disintereste man, and a woman who had common sense — that sens without which wit is folly, learning pedantry, and virtu itself weakness of mind.' 649. After a long absence he appeared at court, whe the king observing to him, he supposed he had just le his diocese ; ' No please your majesty,' said the bishoj ' I am just come from Prior Park, near my diocese, bi not in it.' ' What have you been doing ?' said th king. ' I have, replied the bishop, * been combatin the enemies of that faith, of which your majesty is th avowed and zealous defender.' DR. JOSEPH WARTON. He was a delightful poet, a most elegant scholar, am an able critic. His conversation was rich and fluenl and displayed exhaustless stores of wit, pleasantry, am I'terary anecdotes. FLOWERS OF WIT. 5b' t*>0. Dr. Balguy, a very able divine, having preach- ki an excellent discourse in Winchester cathedral, the j?xt of which was, ' All wisdom is sorrow,' received the Mowing elegant compliment from Joseph Warton, then t Winchester school : — * If what yon advance, my dear doctor be true, That wisdom is sorrow, how wretched are you V 651. The following very sweet address to Music, a free translation of a chorus in the Medea of Eurip- les. Dr. Warton said, that he composed these verses hile he was drawing on his boots : — 1 Queen of ev'ry moving measure, Sweetest source of purest pleasure, Music ! why thy powers employ, Only for the sons of joy ; Only for the smiling guests, At natal or at nuptial feasts ? Rather thy lenient numbers pour On those whom secret griefs devour ; Bid be still the throbbing h» arts Of those whom death or absence parts? And with some softly- whisper' d air, Smooth the brow of dumb despair.' #52. In his 'Ode to Fancy,' he has drawn a pathet- picture, which shows the originality of his genius < — - 'Haste Fancy, from the scenea of Folly, To meet the matron Melancholy ? Lead to some abbey's mould'ring tow'rs, Where, to avoid cold wintry show'rs, The naked beggar shiv'rmg lies. While whistling temptests round her rise, And trembles lest the tott'ring wall Should on her sleeping infants fall.' 53. Dr. Warton's opinion was asked of War- rton's Divine Legation of Moses. It is a work i he, 'in which numerous quotations are very ingen.- 56 FLOWERS OF WIT. iously strung together to support a paradox. Warburlc vvSs a clever man, but not a regular or deep schola He is indebted, for most of his quotations, with whic he makes such a parade of learning, to the collection of Graevius and Gronovius. As he could not reac the stream of Ilissus, nor the fountain of Aganipp» and there drink copiously, he was glad to take draught of classical water from the reservoirs of otl era.' THOMAS WARTON. His writings display great richness of fancy, vigoi of judgment, and extent of learned research. In tr company of strangers he was reserved, among his da ly associates affable and good-humoured ; but his coi versation rarely took any high flight of fancy, or wic range observation. It usually fell very much belo the powers of his mind ; and his delight was, in cor I liance with the old fashion of the university, toil ujge himself in making puns. & 654. During the first, American war there was camp at Coxheath, and Warton passed some time ther ! He was asked by a colonel of one of the regiments ! read prayers and preach, and the colonel expressed ( hope th-it he did not come unprovided with theologies ammunition. 'No, no,' said Warton, 'I have broug some old stores with me that, I hope, will answer tn purnose you wish : I assure you I come provided wit both Muscat and Ball.' These were the names of tw writers of sermons. I 655. In a company where Tom Warton was presen* a person was talking of the active disposition of tl king, and that he possessed a number of time-piece particularly a watch so light and small that he cou'l wear it as a ring : i The king wears this,' said Warto ' to show that time does not hang heavy upon hi hands.' FLOWERS OF WIT. 57 The king conferred on alderman Treacher, an Ox- ord brewer, the honour of knighthood. Warton was Did that Treacher was made a knight of the new or- er of Peg Nicholson. * Sir,' said the wag, ' the king nould have revived an old order, the brewer should ave been dubbed a knight of Malta.' 657. A person just returned from London, told him e had attended an execution at Tyburn, and had seen ack Ketch dressed very shabbily ' Do you not think, ir,' said he, ' that such a public officer ought to wear a own V ' By all means,' replied Warton ; ' but be tire to let him have hanging sleeves to it.' I 658. Tom Warton's conversation turned upon Rapin's [History of England,' when he was disturbed by a loung man, whose name was Tindal, making a noise at jtae college gate. The discussion was resumed, and pain interrupted by Tindal knocking for admittance the college gate. On one of the company asking barton what was the matter, ' I believe,, sir,' said he, t is TindaVs continuation of Rap-in? 659. He heard two physicians talking of the singu- beauty of a lady : they both conversed with great limation, and seemed to contend which should praise r the most. ' I do not wonder, gentlemen,' said War- p, * at the warmth of your discussion, as the subject it is a Venus de MedicisS i660. It was reported that a certain duke who lived the vicinity of Oxford, not remarkable for his Iiber- ity, allowed his servants to dispose of the produce of 3 lake. ' I always suspected,' said Warton, 'that man was sel-Jish.' 661. He used jocosely to say, that the university of uibridge must not object to Oxford its total neglect various branches connected with the study of mathe- tics. Is not navigation learnt on the Isis, gunnery the neighbouring hill ? The avcis in peritrochio is 58 FLOWERS ©F WIT. well illustrated by a scheme in a phaeton ; .the dot trine of the screw is practically explained most ever ings in the students' room, together with the motion < fluids. 9 662. The following beautiful epigrammatic Invoec fion to sleep is attributed to T. Warton : k Sonne, vera, quanquam cerlissima mortit imago eft Consorltm eupio it tamux esse tori. Hue odes, hand abitart cito, nam sic sine vita Vivere quam suave est, sic sine morte mori. O Sleep, of death although the image true, JVluch I desire to share my bed with you. O come and tarry, for how sweet to lie, Thu9 without life, thus without death to die.' There is something in the point of these verses, th; may remind the reader of the following lines of Gira dus Cambrensis : 4 Vive Deo, tibi mors re quits, libi vita labori ; Vive Deo, mors est vtvere, vita mori? 663. Inscription over a calm and clear spring i\ Blenheim gardens : — 1 Here quench your thirst, and mark in me An emblem of true charity, Who, while my bounty I bestow. Am neither seen nor heard to flow.' This union of ideas is highly beautiful. It is possi ble that Warton might have seen the following inscrip {ion upon a fountain at Paris : 4 Qua tibi donat aquam, la/el hosjuia nympha sub imo ; Sic tit, cwm dederis dona, latere velis.' FLOWERS OP WIT. S9 PHILIP DLKE OF WARTON. i Was prodigal in his expenses and versatile in poll" Is, a courtier at home and a rebel abroad. His dissi- ted character and conduct are supposed to have fur* hed Richardson with materials for his Lovelace in i novel of Clarissa Harlowe 564. In the reign of queen Anne, Robert Harley, |fl of Oxford, the premier, caused a number of peers be created at one time, to carry a particular point he upper house. The duke of Wharton meeting 1 soon after, with some allusion to his fondness for game ol whist, as well as an immediate reference what he had just done, said, 'So, Robin, I find what 1 lost by tricks you have gained by honours.' 565. The duke complained to sir John Cutler, the ed miser, of the disorder of his affairs, and asked what he should do to prevent the loss of his estate. ve as I do, my lord,' said sir John. 'That I can do,' wered the duke, 'after 1 am ruined.' PROFESSOR WHITE. 66. He is one of the old school of Oxford punsters, e professor went to see Blenheim House, and a par- )f young persons were appointed to meet him there, ►lenheim can only be seen at a certain time of the , and the party arrived too late. One of his friends Ided them for being so tardy. ' You must make allowance,' said the good-natured professor ; ung folks, you should recollect, will have their past- 67. Just after the attack which Dr. Parr made upon . claiming a large share of the Bampton Lectures, professor went down to Dover to bathe. Some on advised him to go into the warm bath. 'I thank , sir,' said the professor, • but I don't think I want is I have already been par-boiled.' 18 GO FLOWERS OF WIT. 668. He was in the Bodleian Library when the c lection of coins and medals was shown to a party- strangers. By some accident a drawer containing: ma of the pieces was overturned, and they were scatter upon the floor. ' This is a fine sight, indeed,' said h ' I don't know when I have seen so much current coi JOHN WILKES. 669. At a city meeting John Wilkes harangued 1 assembly ; and on some clamour being made, alderro Sawbridge said to Wilkes, ' Had you not better be lent, as you see the sense of the assembly is agar you V ' The sense,' said Wilkes, ' may be against m but I am determined to persevere in my speech, as I majority in such a meeting as this is always on the si of nonsense. ' 670. John Wilkes was asked why he, who was for erly all alive upon such occasions, was now so lul warm in an election that was going forward. I answer was, ' I am old and infirm, and am now lik< ! volcano burnt out.' BISHOP WILKINS. It would be an act of injustice to the author of c of the neatest repartees that ever was made, not to gi| it a place in this collection. To say that it is w known, is only an acknowledgement of its excellent- i 671. The duchess of Newcastle, who was a gtti writer of plays and romances in the time of Charles! asked bishop Wilkins, who had just announced his d covery of a world in the moon, how she could get the> ' As the journey,' said she, ' must needs be very lor there will be no possibility of going through it withe stopping by the way.' ' Your grace,' replied the bi: op, 'can be at no loss for places to stop at, as you ha built so many castles in the air.' FLOWERS OF WIT. 61 ARCHBISHOP WILLIAMS. 672. He showed such resolution in the defence of iscopacy at the beginning of the troubles of Charles that the king said to him, ' My lord, I commend u, that you are no whit daunted with all disasters, t are zealous in defending your order.' ' Please it lur majesty,' replied the archbishop, ' I am one of the le Welshmen, and they are observed never to run ay till their general first forsakes them— no fear of r flinching, while your majesty doth countenance our jse.' TRUE WITCHCRAFT. 373. An Italian lady, the wife of the marshal d'Ancre, ving had great ascendency over Mary de Medicis een of France, after her death was brought to trial a charge of witchcraft. Being asked what potent " she had used to fascinate the queen : 'The potent ' she replied, ' by which a strong mind fascinates ireak one.' THE PENSIONARY DE WITT. 74. ' Hold your tongue,' said a Frenchman ; 'you ; so much, 1 cannot taste my meat.' ' Silence,' said hild to his mamma at a pantomime ; ' do you not harlequin is going to jump over the clown's head !' vas great vanity in Caesar to pretend to dictate ac- ately to three secretaries at the same time. The ly of the celebrated pensionary de Witt was much re judicious. On being asked how he contrived to nsact a multiplicity of business in the course of the r, without neglect or disorder, he answered, '1 make rule always to attend to one thing at a time.' GENERAL WOLFE. 575. General Wolfe was always anxious to main- 62 FLOWERS OF WIT. tain the respectability of the military character ; I therefore treated every soldier as a gentleman. day when taking a ride, he dismounted, and left I horse for his servant to hold. On his return he foui a grenadier holding his own and his servant's hors and the servant gone He thanked the grenadier ( the trouble he had taken, held the horses himself, ai desired him to stay with him. On the servant's retur 1 Sirrah,' said the general, ' what do you mean by d serting your service, and taking up the time of this s( dier ? Had he been upon the parade, and I had ei ployed him as you have, it would have been prop enough : but can you be such a fool as to think, as I has the honour to wear the uniform of the king, and engaged to fight for his country, that he ought to supp the place of an idle servant ? Know that it is your d ty, and my command, that you wait upon the soldiei and not the soldiers upon you.' 67^. General Wolfe invited a Scotch officer to dii with him, the same day he was also invited by son brother officers. * You must excuse me,' said he them ; ' I am already engaged to Wolfe. ■ A gma: young ensign observed, he might as well have expres ed himself with more respect, and said General Wolf * Sir,' said the Scotch officer with great promptitud! 4 We never say General Alexander or General Caesan Wolfe, who was within hearing, by a low bow to tl Scotch officer, acknowledged the pleasure he felt at tl high compliment. THE MAGNANIMITY OF WOMEIN This quality was not confined to the women of Spa ta, as the following anecdotes will prove. G77. When John Sobieski, king of Poland, mounte hit horse to go to raise the siege of Vienna, than clos< ly invested by the Turks, the queen his wife looked < him with eyes streaming with tears, and then looked i| a little boy, the youngest of her sons. 'Why, ray lov« FLOWERS OF WIT. 6a > you weep so bitterly ?' said the king to her. ' I eep,' said she, ' because this child is not old enough accompany his father.' (678. Tidings of the battle of Ramillies, so fatal to te French arms, reached madam Villeroi. Her hus- nd, the marshal Villeroi, had lost that battle to John e great duke of Marlborough. One of the triends of js above-mentioned lady came to give her comfort, fd assured her that the marshal had escaped unhurt, |d was in good health. ' That,' said she, ' may be bugh for me, but it is not enough for him.' THE MARQUIS OF WORCESTER. Edward Somerset, marquis of Worcester, was- a alous Catholic, a man of the highest honour, courage, i enterprise, and so loyal a cavalier, that he made >ry sacrifice in his power to the service of Charles 1. 5 castle of Ragland in Monmouthshire was the last tress that was surrendered to the rebels. 179. He was famous for his pithy and pleasant con- sation. He was always inclinable to charitable con- ictions of any person's conduct, and was never at a 5 for some excuse or other to palliate imperfections, as ! gentlemen,' said he to some of his friends, who ke freely of one who was vain and ostentatious, yet [ considerable merit ; ' will you have corn grow hout chaff, or light to be without darkness, or pleas- wines without dregs ? If you set a man on his horse, him have his spurs.' 80. The following are extracts from a copy of a very work preserved in the British museum, entitled orcester's Apothegmes, by T B. 1650.' When king Charles I. entered the castle of Reg- l, after the battle of Naseby, the marquis kneeling, ed the king's hand ; and rising up again, he salut; his majesty with this compliment, ' Domine, non dignusS The king replied, 'My lord, 1 may very 18* 64 FLOWERS OF WIT* wall answer you again, I have not found so great faith Israel ; for no man would trust me with so much monei as you have done.' To which the marquis replied, hope your majesty will prove a defender of the faith* ' The king; thanked the marquis for the monies le him : the marquis returned the king this answer : *Si 1 had your word for my money, but I never thought should be so soon repaid ; for now you have given n thanks, I have all I look for.' 1 The marquis was one day reading us a lecture patience in our adversity. Among the rest of tho witty sayings which came from him, he told us th there was nothing so bad but was good for something - 1 For,' said he, ' if there were no silence, there cou be no musick ; for the suddain stops that are in musi adde to the grace and perfection of the arte : ignoran is a spur to knowledge ; darkness is a pavilion tot Almighty, a cabbinor drawn chamber for us to sleep a dungeon for the judge to punish his delinquents, a, a foile for the painter to make his shadowes ; so i afflictions good for our instruction, and adversities our amendment.' ZENO. 681. The ambassadors of a certain prince invil Zeno the philosopher to a sumptuous feast ; and vv« surprised, as they had heard much of his powers conversation, that he did not talk at all. VVhen tli. asked what report they should make of him : ' T your prince, said he, * that you have been in compi with an old man who could hold his tongue.' 682. A person asked Zeno the philosopher, if ■ men ever fall in love. His answer was, ■ If wise ri| do not fall in love, beautiful women must be very fortunate.' COUNT ZENOBIO, An emigrant Venetian, who long resided in Engla and indulged his fondness for Bonaparte and for caj ^LOWERS OF WIT. &b G83. He challenged an officer to play with him at all- urs, thinking, from his superior knowledge of the me, he should make an easy conquest. The officer, wever, proved more than a match for him, and eased e confident Venetian of a considerable sum. He ►re his loss with good humour, and when he related e story of his defeat, said, I was mistaken in my an- gonist : 1 thought to have plucked a pigeon, but 1 ive been seized upon by a hawk.' ZEUX1S. He flourished four hundred years before Christ, and as the rival of Timanthes, Parrhasius, and Apollo- jrus. 684. Pliny the elder bestowed upon this' artist that ctraordinary and judicious praise which conveys to us high idea of his talents. Speaking of the picture hich Zeuxis painted of Penelope, Pliny says, ' He linted the manners of that queen.' 685. Zeuxis never attempted to finish his works with pidity ; and when a person reproached him tor his rdiness, he said, the reason of his slow progress was, That he painted for eternity.' His last picture was an old woman : it was so comic- and ridiculous, that he is said to have died with tughing at it. ZIMMERMAN. 686. This eminent physician went from Hanover tp ttend Frederick the Great in his last illness. One day ie king said to him, ' You have, I presume, sir, help- d many a man into another world.' This was rather bitter pill for the doctor ; but the dose he g'-e the ing in return was a judicious mixture of truth and flat- jry : ' Not so many as your majesty, nor with so much onour to myself.' FLOWERS OF WIT. PART II. insisting of Bon Mots, cKiefly anonymous, of various descriptions, Sublime, Satirical, Humorous, &c, &,c. THE NORTHERN PEASANT. 187. That a taste for the sublime and beautiful is confined to persons of cultivated minds, but is a d of universal principle, cannot justly be denied. — ;entleman resident among the mountains of Oumbf r- d, was talking to a peasant of the eagles that used nfest Borrowdale, and carry off poultry, and some- es lambs. ' It is true,' said the peasant, ' that these Is of prey did us some damage, but I am sorry they all gone.' ' Why so V said the gentleman. ' Be- se,' replied the peasant, ' it gives me pleasure to see agle, — ' it is such a noble work of God !' THE SUBLIME OF AN ARTIST. j 38- Michael Akgelo was extremely disinterested, his noble design of the church of St. Peter at 68 FLOWERS OF WIT. Rome, he received only twenty five Roman crown and it was finished in a fortnight. Santo Gallo ha 1 been many years employed in his wretched mode) and received four thousand crowns for them. Th being reported to Angelo, far from being mortified ( envious, he said, ' I work for God, and require no oth< recompense.' THE SUBLIME OF BEGGING. If nobleness of mind constitutes the true dignity man, neither his mean attire nor his reduced circun stances can diminish his intrinsic worth. We canm fail to be struck with an uncommon degree of admir tion, when we hear those sentiments expressed by beggar, which would exalt the character even ot monarch. 689. ' As you do not belong to my parish,' saidj gentleman to a begging sailor with a wooden leg, * cannot relieve you.' ' Sir,' replied the sailor, with i air of heroism, ' I lost my leg fighting for all parishes. A PROCLAMATION. 690. When the khan of Tartary, who lives inacabii has finished his noon-tide meal, which consists only milk and horse flesh, he orders proclamation to lj made by his herald, ' That all the emperors and kin,| of the world have his permission to go to dinner.' THE SPANISH CHARACTEPv. 691. The Spaniards are marked by a certain gravi of demeanour, or constitutional phlegm, which assum the appearance of pride. It is not merely among pe| sons of rank and fortune that this hauteur shows itsel but a Spanish tradesman, and even a mendicant, pi serves a lofty demeanour, which raises him above 1 condition. A beggar in Madrid solicited alms of a p« son, who, instead of relieving, reproached him for pi ferring his idle way of life to active and useful occuj FLOWERS OF WIT. 69 on. ' I asked you for your money, and not your ad- ce,' said the beggar ; and turned his back upon his 'tonitor, with the scornful air of a genuine Castilian. CLEOPATRA. 692. A lady to whom a painter had promised to give e best picture in his collection, hit upon this strata- 2m to find out which he thought so. She sent a mes- nger to the painter, when he was from home, to tell m that his house was on fire. ' Take care then of my leopatra? exclaimed the artist. It is superfluous to y what picture the lady sent for. FORTITUDE. 693. A man related to his friend the whole train of s misfortunes, and asked him what he would have >ne under such a pressure. ' I should have put an id to my life, like a hero,' said the friend. * I acted ill more like a hero,' said the other, ' for I had the >urage to live on.' MOTHER WIT. 694. A hunchback of Toulouse met a man, who had it one eye, very early in the morning. ' Good mor- w, friend,' said the one-eyed man ; ' you have got •ur load upon your shoulders very early.' 'It is so rly,' replied the hunchback, ' that I see you have ly one window open.' PUNCTUATION. 695. In the priory of Ramessa there dwelt a very ieral prior, who caused these verses to be written erhis door: ' Be open evermore, O thou ray door, To none be shut.. ..to honest, or to poor.' 70 FLOWERS OF WIT. After his death there succeeded another prior, ; covetous as h'* predecessor had been libera!, who kej the same verses there still, changing nothing therein bi one point, which made them run thus : — ' Be open evermore, O thou my door, To none,... be shut to honest, or to poor.* MODERN GREEKS. 696 The remembrance of their antient glory is n< totally extinct. When Mr. Anson (the great lord A: son's brother) was upon his travels in the East, he hire a vessel to visit the island of Tenedos. His pilot, old Greek, as they were sailing along, said with gre glee, * There it was that our fie.ti lay.' Mr. Anw asked, ' What fleet V ' What fleet V replied the q man (a little piqued at the question,) * why our Gr cian fleet at the siege of Troy.' GYGES> RING. 697. It is said of the magical ring of Gyges, that i Jaaci an extraordinary power of making the wearer visible. A person being asked what a man of honoi! put into possession of such a ring, would do, replie 1 Just the same as he would do without it.' SHAKSPEARE A GOOD COOK. 098 Two gentlemen were talking in a caffee-hous of. the best method of dressing a beefsteak. One tbefli observed, that of all receipts, that given in tl words of Macbeth, when he deliberates on the intends death of the king, is the best : 1 If i* were rfon^, when 'tis done, then 'twere wefl ft were done quickly.' FLOWERS OF WIT. 71 A (fAMBLER. 699. ' No,' said an Italian gambler after an intolera- e run of ill luck, ' No, thou jade Fortune, thou may- lit indeed cause me to lose thousands, but 1 defy thy most power to make me pay them.' RENCH NEGATIVE VICTORIES. 700. During the wars between England and France, the time ot Queen Anne, it was the constant practice, though the duke of Marlborough and the allies gained nost every battle, to make illuminations at Paris, in der to keep up the spirits of the people. Once when English had totally defeated the French, and a at illumination was made as usual, a marshal of nee said, ' The French people are like flints, the >re you strike them, the more fire they make.' A NICE DISTINCTION. 701. A husband whose ears were constantly assailed the unruly tongue of his wife, bore the sound of her essant alarum with the greatest patience. * It is y clear,' said one of his friends, ' that you are afraid your wife.' ' I am not afraid of her, y said the hus- id, ' but of the noise she makes.' WHAT IS MORNING ? 02. ' Morning,' said captain Grose, { like noon [evening, has very different meanings in the mouths lifferent persons in different places. 1 once receiv- an appointment to wait upon a noble lord the next •ning. For want of duly considering his lordship's kand amusements, I went at ten o'clock ; but after eking full half an hour, was convinced by a sJip- 1 and gaping footman, that morning would not com- 19 72 FLd%ERS OF WIT. mence in that house till some toours after the sun h passed the meridian. 5 'On a similar appointment from a Welsh squire, was at his door punctually at eight, having been to; he was an early man ; but judge my surprise, wh his servant informed me, his master went out in t morning. On inquiry, I found morning in that ho« did not reach later than seven o'clock.' THE FASHIONABLE DINNER HOU] A. D. 1813. 703. A nobleman invited a party to dine ; and company assembled about seven o'clock, the hour pointed, and waited for him till they all began to d cover symptoms of ennui and oscitancy. At last noble host made his appearance, coolly looked at watch, and ordered dinner ; and as coolly said, addi sing himself to the half-famished circle, ' I hope 3 don't think me late, I am just come from the Ope where I only staid long enough to hear Catalani s her first song : I bad a great mind to encore the chai' ing creature ; but it is disagreeable to make one's cc 1 pany wait, so I denied myself that pleasure on yr account !' A DESPERADO. 704. A lady was followed by a beggar who tea iier very much to give him alms. On her refusing h he quitted her with a deep sigh, saying, * The aln asked would have prevented me from executing present resolution.' The lady was alarmed, think 1 the man would make some rash attempt upon his c life. She called him back, and gave him a shillii and asked him what he meant by what he had s? ' Madam,' said the fellow, 'I have been begging all < in vain, and had it not been for this shilling, 1 shoi have been obliged to work.' m ^.LOWERS OF WIT. WISDOM. 73 705. Wise men say nothing in dangerous times. f-The lion called the sheep, to ask her if his breath bs unpleasant : she said Aye ; and he bit off her head [ra fool. He called the wolf and asked him ; he id No ; he tore him in pieces for a flatterer. At st he called the fox, and asked him : ' Truly,' said e fox, ' I have caught a cold and cannot smell.' FHE IRISH AND ENGLISH ROADS. 706. An Englishman asked an Irishman if the roads Ireland were good. ' Ye?,' said the Irishman, ' so eel lent, that I wonder you do not import some of them to England. We have the road to love strewed with ses ; the road of matrimony through nettles ; the ad of honour through a duel ; the road to prision rough the courts of law ; and the road to the under- Iter's through the apothecary's shop.' ' Have you y road to preferment ?' ' No', said the Irishman, lot now — that road, since the Union, is removed to igland : you pass through it to the king's palace, and am told it is the dirtiest road in Great Britain.' A STEWARD. 707. A rich nobleman made his will, and left hand- le legacies to all his domestics, except to his stew- J. On being asked the reason for this exception : leave him out,' said he, beause he has been in my •vice for more than twenty years.' THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE. 708. An alchymist hearing of the singular merit of a ghbouring philosopher, took an opportunity of pay- him a visit ; and expressed no small surprise at the ill house and plain manner in which he lived. Whata grace,' said he, 'is it to the opulent of this country, 74 FLOWERS OF WIT. that a person of your rare virtie should be compellei to live under this humble roof, and submit to so man privations ! But courage, my friend! I am comet make amends to 3 r ou for the cruelty of fortune : I pos sess an invaluable secret, and upon certain conditions will impart it toyou. In short, I have discovered th philosopher's stone. By the transmutation of metal; I doubt not we shall divide more gold than is to b found in the coffers of his holiness the pope, or th grand signior.' 'I thank you,' replied the philost pher; 'but your offer comes too late, and indeed is to m of no comparative value. I have long enjoyed a soun constitution and a tranquil mind, and have prudenc enough to be content with the little 1 have. These ar possessions which all your gold cannot purchase ; an so I think you are under a mistake — /, not you, hav discovered the philosopher's stone.' SIR JOHN CUTLER. 709. He was well known as a complete miser. H; boasted that Providence bad showed him peculia. favour, in causing his nativity on the 29 th of February so that he had but one birthday to keep in four yearj, A PHYSICIAN. 710. A certain physician, when he visited his rici and luxurious patients, always went into their kitchen* and shook hands with their cooks. 'My good friends' said he 'I owe you much, for you confer great favour upon me^ Your skill, and your ingenious and palatabli art of poisoning, enables us medical men to ride il our carriages ; without your assistance, we should a go on foot and be starved.' AN EASTERN PHILOSOPHER. 711. Pride often keeps us in ignorance, by the n FLOWERS OF WIT. <0 raint which it imposes upon our minds. An Eastern hiio'Ophe r being: asked by what means he Wad ac- nred so much knowledge, answered ; l I wa& never revented by shame from asking questions.' MY FATHER'S DEATH. 712. One being at supper said to his comrade, 'You ard the discourse of my father's death, let me en- -;at you to tell me how your father died !' He, being ry intent on a dainty morsel, answered, ' Suddenly, ddenly.' [London Jests, 1712.] This jest has been attributed to Tom Warton. PROFESSIONAL MEN. Men in general, and particularly professional men, ;w objects through the media of their own pursuits, d express themselves accordingly. 713. A gentleman was thrown from a very restive rse in Hyde Park, and had the misfortune to break ; of his legs. A crowd instantly collected around n, in which were a riding-master, a painter, a math- atician, a lawyer, and a clergyman. ' If this unfor- late man,' said the riding-master, 'had taken a few sons in my school, that accident would not have hap- ied.' ' How finely the figure was fore-shortened in ing !' said the painter. k He made a parabolic ve,' said the mathematician. ' It is a hundred to ,' said the lawyer, ' if he has made his will.' 'Run a surgeon,' said the clergyman, ' and let us assist poor man in getting home.' RECOLLECTION. 14. A noble lord once asked a clergyman, who dining at the bottom of the table, why the goose always placed next the parson. ' Really,' said he, :an give no reason for it : but your question is s 19* 76 floweYis of wit. odd, that I shall never see a goose again without thin ingof your lordship.' LOUIS XII. 715. He one day reproached a prelate with the lu ury of his manner of living, and told him that the cle gy did not live so splendidly in the early ages. ' N sir,' replied the prelate, ' not in the time of the 8hq herd kings. THE CONTENTED HIBERNIAN. 716. The tempers of the English and the Irish a; strongly contrasted. The former is reserved, gloom; and serious ; the latter is lively and gay, and express') his thoughts in an animated and figurative style pea liar to himself. — An Englishman in company with i Hibernian indulged his propensity to croaking, h complaining of the badness of the weather, and tb unpleasant piace where he resided. The Hiberniai declined arguing with him on the folly of his murmur but held out to him a picture of his own contentednes * When I have a hat on my head,' said he, ' my houst is thatched ; when I have had a dinner, my house furnished : as for weather, I care not if it rains or shine: as for place, I am at home either in London or Londoi derry : so hurrah ! may the shamrock, and Erin tb' little island of saints and liberty, flourish for ever !' A KICKING HORSE. 717. A joke cannot have a happier effect than t dispel ill-humour and make a friend. Such was the n suit of an accidental meeting between a stranger and: crusty old gentleman, who as he was riding, his hors' made an odd kind of motion with his fore-feet, so as I kick forward. ' This action of your horse,' cried tb stranger, ' is quite new to me : many a horse have FLOWERS OF WIT. 77 bf»; but I never saw a horse kick before.'' The old ntleman was so tickled with the pun, that he mvited stranger to dinner, and ever after made IiiiA wcl- |ne guest. ^ QUAKERS. 718. An address of the Quakers to James II. on his e^sion, preserved in Waniey's Common-piace Book, lighly characteristic of that shrewd sect. 'We come ondole the death of our friend Charles ; and we are d that thou art come to be our ruler. We hear that u art a dissenter from the church of England, and so we. We beg that thou wouldst grant us the s?me jrty that thou takest thyself, and so we wish thee 1. Farewell.' [Harl. MS. 6030.] EXPERIMENTS. verbal critic, such as ' slashing Bently,' who with /erted ingenuity tortured the text of Milton, and le it speak a new and strange language, has no re- for authors, either ancient or modern, unless he can over passages in them upon which he can try ex- ments. 19. A noted oculist was in a room crowded with pany, and was asked what he thought of such a lady as it not a pity that she squinted ? ' Squint, sir !' ied the infallible doctor ; ' I wish every lady in the fl did the same ; there is not, I assure you, a man in jpe can cure squinting but myself.' A TRUE GHOST. JO. A credulous clown went to the clergyman of >arish, and told him with great symptoms of con- •ation, that he had seen a ghost, k Where did you t V was the question : 'Why,' said Diggory, ' as re going, and please your reverence, by the church, 78 FLOWERS OF WIT. right ud against the wall, I sees the ghost.' ' In wl shape fnd it appear V ' For all the world like a gr ass. Mkp home and hold your tonguf-,' said the clert man, yfr you are a very timid creature, and have 01 been frightened by your own shadow.' DOMESTIC EXAMPLE. 1 721. How unreasonable is it for mothers to exp their daughters will tread with undeviating steps in I paths of virtue, if they do not lead them the way Madame B reprimanded her daughter on disc< ering that she had several private interviews with I lover ; and ended her lecture by threatening to shut 1 up in a convent. ' I shall have no objection.' said I sarcastic youn<* lady, ' if you will allow your handsor footman to wait upon me there.' LOQUACITY. The historian Gibbon and the abbe Raynal were markable for their loquacity. The tongue of each i a perpetual alarum. For such encroachments upon i colloquial rights and privileges of others, the follow: is a very ingenious apology : — 722. A Gascon gentleman was reproached by one his friends for monopolising conversation, and never 1 tening to any one. ' Do you think,' said he in his NJ dication, 'that I am not attentive to what you and oth think? Undecei\e yourself; while I am speaking m my tongue, I am listening with my eyes I can $ persuasion in the looks, better than it can be express by words, — to save you trouble and breath, I give y before-hand a reply to every meditated objecton. j enjoy the anticipation of eloquence, as much as 1 dc aste fruits ripe before their usual season.' FLOWERS OF WIT. 70 MATERNAL LOVE. [723. Titf. wife of a noble Venetian, having^y tries Jl the death of her only son, gave herself inwo the st violent grief. A priest endeavoured to console • : 'Recollect/ said he, 'the case of Abraham, whom d commanded to-piunge his knife into the bosom of i only son, and he was ready to obey without a mur- r.' ' Ah ! my good friend,' she replied, ' God gave 5 command to a father — he would not have required h a sacrifice from a mother.'' 724. On Women. By Mrs. Hosland. 3 are stars of the night, ye are gems of the morn, are dew-drops whose lustre illumines the thorn ; rayless that night is, that morning unblest, ere no beam in your eye lights up peace in the breast, 1 the sharp thorn ef sorrow sinks deep in the heart* I the sweet lip of woman assuages the smart : hers o'er the couch of misfortune to bend, mdness a lover, in firmness a friend ; prosperity's hour, be it ever contest, m woman receives both refinement and zest ; adorn'd by the bays, or enwreath'd with the willow, smile is our meed, and her bosona our pillow.' !5. The following rhyme was often quoted b}~ ,n Swift : ' A pigeon, a plover, a pig, and a lover, ild never be cold. NAIVETE. he English language has no word to express the s which this word conveys. It neither means sim- ty only, nor freedom only, nor ignorance only : but 'times combines all these ideas together, in so corn- manner as cannot fail to cause a smile or a laugh- 80 FLOWERS OP WIT. ^ 726^A ^ Passa^, timesA{ cases.^a 726^ A gentleman crossing the Severn at the Passat, asked the waterman if accidents did not soon timesifcppen by the boats being upset ; ' and in su cases^nsaid he, ' persons must be often lost.' ' O n said one of the watermen, ' they are seldom lost : To be sure my brother was drowned here not long a| but we found him again a day or two after.' 727. A countryman very frequently called tfp Huet bishop of Avranches, a scholar remarkable the assiduity with which he pursued his studies, though the countryman went to him upon particu business, he was always repulsed, with the answer (I his lordship was employed in his library. ' I wish,' s; the indignant rustic, ' that the king would send us bishop who has finished his studies.' 728. Susan, a country girl desirous of matrimoi received from her mistress a present of a five poi Bank note for her marri-ge portion. Her mistr wished to see the object of Susan'" favour ; and a vi diminutive fellow, swarthy as a Moor and ugly as ape, made his appearance. ' Ah Susan,' said her rr tress, ' what a strange choice you have made !' ' 1 ma'am,' said Susan, in such hard times as these, wll almost all the tall fellows are gone for soldiers, wli more of a man than this can you expect for a five-pou Bote V LONG AND SHORT TAILS. 729. A person asked a farmer what he must g him to take his horses to grass. ' Why,' said the f mer, for ' long-tailed horses four shillings, and forbc tails six, per week.' The person wonrtered at the difl ence of the charge, which the farmer at his desire < plained. ' The reason is this : In the hot weather i long-tails are so busy in switching the flies, that tfc have not time to eat so much as the others ; but I bobtails have nothing else to do.' FLOWERS OF WIT. 81 A FRENCH LOVER. * r 30. A voung lady of Languedoc, of a kind anjLingen- ius temper, was courted by a petit rnaitre W Paris, ter an absence of three months, she met him acciden- lly in the street, dressed much to his own satisfaction a new peruke well powdered, as was then the fash- n. Just as she began to express her joy at seeing m, a shower of rain came on ; at which her Narcis- s discovered symptoms of great uneasiness ; and in- ?ad of expressing himself in a manner correspondent her tender salutation, he began to run for shelter. Vhat!' cried the indignant fair one, ' have we been ree long months absent from each other, do you still ve me, do you enjoy my company, and is it possible u can think of your wig being spoiled by a (ew drops rain V This anecdote which exhibits the levity and frivol- sness of the French character, is taken from a work ce very popular in France, called the Gasconiana, >pies are now very scarce. A SPANISH OFFICER. 731. It was the remark of a Spanish officer, * that French soldiers at the first onset in battle are more m men, but after it are less than women.' AN ADDITIONAL REMARK. 732. In a conversation between two friends, one d to the other, ' I have a remark to make to you, ich affects me much.' ' What is that ?' k It is, that I iyou grow old. But,' he continued, ' I have an ad- ional remark to make, which affects me still more.' md pray what is that ?' 'Why,' said he, 'I find I )vv old too.' A FACTOTUM. f33. A vapouring colonel of one of the City volun- r regiments, was complaining in a very self-sufficient 82 FLOWERS OF WIT. manner, that in consequence of the great nf glige of his officers, he was obliged to do their duty, as v as his^wn. ' I am,' said he, ' my own captain, my ( paymaster, and my own ensign.' 'You may add,' || a gentleman who knew his character well, * your trumpeter.' REQUITED LOVE. 734. What words can be more delightful to the man ear, than the unexpected effusions of ,genero< and affection from a beloved woman ! A young genl man after great misfortunes came to a lady he had 1< courted, and told her his circumstances were becc so reduced, that he actually wanted five guineas, am very glad to hear it,' said she. * Is this your affect for me !' he replied in a tone of despondency. * W are you glad ? k Because, she answered, ' if you w five guineas, I can put you in possession of five thi sand.' 735. Imitated from the Persian. By Mr. Weston. * The pure unsullied glass, with faithful grace, Reflects the image of my Laura's face ; And what for all the fair it cannot do, Reflects the image of her temper too.' RETALIATION. It is gratifying to observe, that the blow given the insolent and reproachful is sometimes returned p double force. 736. An extravagant nobleman, soon after he h sold an estate upon which there were a hundred tei ments, appeared at the court of Henry VIII. in co \y new clothes. ' Am 1 not,' said he jocosely, ' a vc strong man, to carry a hundred houses upon mvbacl Cardinal VVolsey hearing this speech, said, ' The n nrmer!y used to be very sober and quiet, but then be- an to bound and prance. * The Dele O my sol, sir- h,' =ayes he, ' an you be not quiet, I'se send you to the 30 kings in the house of commons : they'le quickly me you.' 743. A lady tendered a dish of fruite to a gentleman t the table, with this compliment : ' Sir. this is not rbidden fruite, if you please to eate.' ' Lady,' says >, ' by one sign infallibly it should, for I see it comes lit just now from paradise.' A GIG. 44. A celebrated surgeon was called upon by a ?ntleman to attend a friend in the country. The aren- eman offered to carry him to the place. — ' By what Hiveyance ?' ' I will take you down in my gig-' ' I n much obliged to you,' said the wary disciple of 86 "FLOWERS OF WIT. Esculapius, but I decline 3 7 our offer, as I have at th time half a dozen gig patients under my care.' METAPHYSICS. ers 745. After all the advances in the science of aph)sics, so much boasted of in the Scotch unive ties, it is not clear that the improvements in it ha\ been such as to render obsolete the simple descriplic of the blacksmith of Glammis : Tvva fouk disputin th; gither ; he that's listenin disna ken what he that speakin means ; and he that's speakin disna ken wh< he means himself— that's Metaphysics-' A PAIR OF SPECTACLES. 746. * Madam,' said the keeper at the gate of Kei; * sington gardens, ' I cannot permit you to take yoi dog into the garden.' * Don't you see, my good friend said the lady, putting a couple of shillings into th keeper's hand, ' that it is a cat, and not a dog k Madam,' said the keeper, instantly softening the tor of his voice, ' I beg your pardon for my mistake now see clearly, by the aid of the pair of spectacles yo have been so good as to give me, that it is a cat, an not a dog.' AMERICANS. 747. The Americans are so inquisitive, that Di Franklin tells us, when he travelled in America, an wished to ask his road, he found it necessary to sav time by prefacing his questions with, — 'My name i Benjamin Franklin, 1 am by trade a printer, I am com* from such a place, and am going to such a place ; an now tell me which is my road ?' 748. An English captain hailed an American vesse' and asked what she was laden with. The maste wishing to set off his cargo to the greatest advantage FLOWERS OF WIT. 87 iswered, with a flourish of Bostonian rhetoric, ' Fruit id timber.' The fact was, the cargo consisted ot Dtatoes and broomsticks. A CONTRACTED NOTION. 749. c If you have not the use of our letters, and e knowledge of our books,' said a Chinese mandarin an European missionary, ' what literature or what jience can you have ?' AN IMPOSITION. 750. Dr. Bentham, formerly divinity professor in xford, gave an imposition to a young student, who jell knew that the doctor's avarice extended even to Is stable. The following were the subject of the im- >sition, and the verses written upon it : — ' Omni ignolum pro magnifico es/.' ' Averse to pamper'd and high mettled steeds, His own upon chopt straw Avaro feeds ; Bred in his stable, in his paddock horn, What vast ideas they must have of corn!' WHISTLING. 751. The lady of Dr. Bentham was a woman of a sposition congenial with that of her caro spnso. She ked a person who applied for the place ot footman in tr family, if he could whistle, ' Why is that necessa- ?' said the man. ' Because,' said the lady, ' I ex- sct my footman to whistle all the time he is in the liar, to be certain he is not drinking while he is ere.' MNEMONICS. 752. A person read lectures in London, and profes- 20"* 88 FLOWERS OK WIT. sed to teach the art of acquiring a good memory. Th first thing, he said, that was necessary, was, to reco lect what you bad seen, or heard, or read. ' This rule a wag who was present observed, ' reminds me of Mr Glasse's receipt to roast a hare : ' First catch a hare.' THE METEMPSYCHOSIS. 753. In a certain company they talked much of th metempsychosis, or transmigration of souls. A coj comb, who had teased every one with his impertinei discourse, said, ' I remember perfectly well that in tfa time of Moses I was the golden calf.' ' This is ver probable,' said a lady ; ' foryou now retain a very stron likeness to that animal, and have lost nothing but th gilding.' SENSIBILITY. 754. A lady who made pretensions to the most re fined feelings, went to her butcher to remonstrate wit him on his cruel practices. ' How," said she, ' can yo be so barbarous, as to put innocent little lambs t ; death ?' ' Why not ? madam,' said the butcher ; "jJH would not eat them alive, would you ?' A RECEIPT TO FILL A NEWSPAPER 755. His printer came running to the publisher of newspaper, and said, ' Sir, we have a space in the pa per which we don't know how to fill.' 'Nothing i easier,' said the publisher : insert that ' last night a elderly gentleman, walking through St. James's park was knocked down by two ruffians, and robbed oi hi money and his gold-headed cane.' The printer sooj after came back again, and told his master there wen several words too many.— ' Why then,' said the pub lisher, 'you may leave out the gold-headed cane.' BLOWERS OF WIT. 89 THE ENERGY OF WORDS. 756. Two or three words sometimes paint a charac- r better than whole volumes. The cardinal de ^aint cile thus spoke of his brother, the famous cardinal azarin. ' My brother is a coward ; only make a ise, and you'll frighten him to death.' BOTANY BAY. 757. Some years ago, one of the convicts in Botany :y wrote a farce, which was acted with great applause the theatre in Port Jackson. The noted Harrington ■nished the prologue, which he ended with these es : — * True patriots we ; for be it understood, We left our country, ....for our country's good.' A PUFF DIRECT. r58. An itinerant pedlar, wishing to recommend his ors to the gaping crowd, thus addressed them : — entlemen, the razors I hold in my hand were made i cave by the light of a diamond in the famous pro- ce of Andalusia in Spain. They cut as quick as ught, and are as bright as the morning-star. A word two more, and I am certain you will buy them. Lay m under your pillow at night, and you will find your- f clean shaved when you wake in the morning.' THE ITALIAN VINEYARD-MAN. '59. Per mancamento d? acqua bevo del acqua ; se io ?sse acqua, beveri el vino. k For want of water I forced to drink water ; if 1 had water, I would lk wine.'' This speech is a riddle, and here is the ition : It was the complaint of an Italian vineyard- after a long drought, and an extremely hot sum- *, that had parched up all his grapes. 90 FLOWERS OF WIT- THE INCOMPARABLE RUSSIAN Surely there are speeches which, as they exprcj the feelings of a benevolent heart, and convey the sc timents of a noble mind, are to be estimated- far abc the merit and the praise of wit. The following anc dote will illustrate this observation ; — 760. In the summer of the year 1810, as a lady v walking with her child upon the banks of the canal St. Catharine at Petersburg, the child suddenly slipp from her hand, and fell into the canal. The mother despair was going to plunge after her child, when young man prevented her, and promised her instant sistance. He took a fine large spaniel that follow him, and throw him into the water, calling out as lo as he could, Bring him, bring him. The sagack dog instantly dived ; and when he came up again, v seen holding the child by the shirt collar : he quid swam to the shore, and laid his precious burthen gen down at the feet of the mother. She, in an ecstacy joy, took the child in her arms, and divided her can ses between him and the dog. The father of the ch appeared : * I return you, sir,' said he to the youi man, ' a thousand thanks ; you have saved the life my only child.' ' Your thanks, 1 said the young mi ' are more justly due to the kind providence of the mighty, which brought me hither.' ' Accept,' said 1 father, ' a thousand rubles, as a reward for your hum? exertions.' ' Excuse,' said the young man, ' my dining your handsome offer : you are, in fact, mi more indebted to the exertions of my dog, than to re * Well, then,' said the gentleman, ' I will give yo thousand rubles for your dog.' ' A quarter of an h< ago,' replied the young man, ' I did not think him wo 1 a thousand rubles ; but now he has saved the life I human being, I would not take ten thousand for him. The young man then rushed into the crowd of sp tators, and the enraptured father and mother could by any inquiry find out who he was. The empe Alexander was informed of the affair, and was desir 3 FLOWERS OF WIT. 91 discover the young man ; but the search he ordered be imde, although diligently pursued, was fruitless. iO admirable youth ! what an honour art thou to the jme of Russian, or rather what an honour to human (ture ! Upon this occasion what an assemblage of hu- fmity, p'ety, delicacy and disinterestedness, did thy Jmis and actions display ! I wish I was acquainted lith thy name, that this tributary page might catch a Y of giory from the splendour of its insertion. Much (>re I wish th.it I could inscribe the particulars of this 'ion, together with thy name, in indelible characters the temple of Immortality, for the praise and the irai- on of future ages. A L1GURIAN SOLDIER. i'6*l. ' When I lived on the other side of the Alps,' i Howel, in his Familiar Letters, a ' gentleman told a merry tale of a Ligurian soldier, who had got in- icated in Genoa ; and prince Doria going his rounds horseback one night, the soldier took his horse by bridle, and asked what the price of him was, for he ited to buy a horse. The prince, observing in what e the man was, caused him to be taken into a house, put to sleep ; and in the morning he sent for him, asked him what he would give for his horse.' ' Sir,' the soldier, who had by that time recovered his r senses, ' the merchant that would have bought last night of your highness went away early this ning.' FRIENDSHIP. 32. A gentleman went to congratulate a friend on gaining some preferment. The friend, puffed up i his promotion, pretended he did not know who the leman was. Not in the least disconcerted at *uch *ange reception, he changed his tone, and said, ' I :ome to condole with you upon the great misfortune has befallen you ; — yours is, indeed, a desperate 02 FLOWERS OF WIT. case : You are so completely deaf and blind as not know your old friends !' COSMOGRAPHY. 763. A boasting and ignorant traveller was ace tome d to talk much of the various countries and cit he ijad visited. One of the company observed, tha course he was well acquainted with Cosmograa The traveller, supposing this to be the name of a ci said, * We saw it at a distance ; it was a very gn loo! ing place ; but as we were in haste, we could visit it. A PROVERB WELL APPLIED. 764. A gambler, who was very eager and covet(; said, after losing a large sum at play, ' 1 have at le the merit of losing my money without complainii ' True,' said a lady, ' for great grief is dumb.' ARISTOTLE'S RULES TRANSGRESSf 765 Some critics severely criticising a new trage one of ihem sai>i, that not one of Aristotle's rules observed in it ; and that even the great ends of tragi were forgotten, for the tragedy moved neither tei nor pity. * Pardon me,\ said a more humane jud ' as to the latter ; for the tragedy certainly moves j for tne author.' THE TWO SISTERS. 766. A lady, very like her sister, was looking in glass ; and seeing a face there, said to her sister \ was standing behind her, ' I am surprised you can th of going into company with such a dirty face.' ' r k,' said the sister, ' is not so apropos as you i) gine, for the face you see in the glass is not mine your own.' FLOWERS OF WIT. 93 ,TKE OXFORD CHURCHWARDEN. [ 767. Mr. Malbon the apothecary was called to at- nd an Oxford churchwarden, whose head was full of irish business, and was not very conversant with ex- •essions out of the way of the vulgar tongue. k I have I great soreness in my breast,' said -the churchwar- t j n. ' That arises,' said the apothecary, ' from a fe- ile affection in the thorax ; — but pray let me ask you, ) you expectorate V ' Expect a rate ? 9 said the urchwarden ; ' no, sir, thank God, that parish busi- ss is settled, I made a rate last week.' THE NIMRODS OF OXFORD. 768. ' These Oxonians,' said the late duke of B , innoy me very much in my hunting. There is so rge a field of them to-day, that if the vice-chancellor d the proctors were here, 1 should have the whole niversity riding tally-ho after my dogs.' ' Do you sh,' said one of the duke's huntsmen, a shrewd fel- w, ' to keep these Oxford scholars away ?' ' How n that be done ?' said the duke. ' Nothing easier,' joined the wag : ' In the front of your dog-kennel iild a library.' A PACK OF HOUNDS. "69. You must go to Shakspeare for a general de- ription of a pack ; but if you want the particular mes given more than one hundred years ago, here py are in couples, taken from an old song> the service of any sportsman : 'Juno and Jupiter, Tinker and Trotter, Singwell and Merryboy. Captain and Cryer, Gangwtll and Gin^lebell, Fairmaid and Fryer, Beauty and Bcnnylass, Tanner and Trouncer, Foamer and Forrester, Bonner and Bouncer. 94 flowers or WIT. Gander and Oundnmore, Jowler and Jumper, Tarquin and Tarmtrlane, Thunder and Thumper." FRONTI NULLA FIDES. 770. A gentleman heard a coward talk in a he toring manner in praise ot courage. 'He puts me mind,' said the gentleman, 'of what I once saw at puppet-show, a hare beating a drum.' THE SCHOOL BOY MATCHED. 771 A master read to his scholars the funeral ation of marshal Turenne, written by the celebrated F chier. One of the scnolars said to another, 'When w you be able to write as well as Flechier? 'As sooi said the other, 'as you are able to fight as well as T renne.' A CLERGYMAN'S MENACE. 772. A clergyman, in the time of Cromwell, bei deprived of his living for Non-conformity, said to J friends, 'That if he was deprived, it should cost a hi died men their lives- 'This strange speech being nois abroad, he was summoned before a magistrate, a thus explained his intention: 'Should I lose my benefit said he, 'I am reselved to practise physic, and ther may, if 1 get patients, kill a hundred men. THE CONNOISSEURS. 773. A painter was censured for not taking got likenesses when he printed portraits. Me was p:qu< at the censures of his friends, and wished to ascerta if the fault imputed to him was real or not. He inforr ed them he had finished a poi trait of a person thr knew perfectly well, which he flattered himself w nature itself. They all hastened to see the picture; ar FLOWERS OF WIT. 95 1, without hesitation, pronounced it to be one of the 'iy worst attempts he had ever made at a likeness. You are mistaken, friends, ' said a voice from the head "the picture, ' it is myself.' These words were spo- \u\ by the person, who had entered into the stratagem the painter, and put his head through the canvas. HOW TO TAME A SHREW. 774. ' What method shall 1 pursue,' said a French isband, ' to conquer the fury of my wife ? At every tie trifle that crosses her humour, she frowns, frets, ges and storms, and my house seems too small to con- in her. Her whole face is distorted, her hair seems stand erect, her eyes dart flashes of lightning, and her eeks look like two red-hot balls, while words as point- l as needles and as sharp as razors issue from her ex- nded mouth. In short, she is a perfect Medusa, and trifles me with horror to behold her. * One method I will try to reclaim her. She has a eat idea of her own beauty : 1 will take her to the aking-glass ; and if the view of her own hideous phy- )gnomy does not restore her to a state of reason and mquillity, the case is desperate : I must send her to hospital of lunatics, and shall not be surprised to ar her pronounced incurable.' 1 The Cambridge Merry Jests ; or, The only Way to be Witty. The sixth edition : London.' The following are extracts from a curious and scarce )rk with the above-mentioned title, a copy of which preserved in the British Museum. This copy has no te, but it was probably published soon after the Res- ration. A TRUE SCOT. That there has always been a traditionary prejudice ainst the Scetch by the English, long before the bit- 21 96 FLOWERS OF WIT. ing sarcasms of Dr. Johnson, Churchill, and the 'No Briton' appeared, the following old jest will prove : 775. ' A certain English bishop, by nation a Sc( man, having been informed that a neighbour of his said he was a false Scot, which made him send fori and ask him, pressingly, if he said so. The fe;lo\ solulely denied it. 'Well, what did you say?' sak bishop. 'My lord,' replied the man, 'I only said were a true Scot :' which cut him to the heart, as as if he had bid him read Cleveland's Satire upoi countrymen.' 776. 'A pleasant country-fellow told his companio that he could have what weather he pleased. At wh; they laughed, and said, 'twas impossible ; for the pi; ets, as they had heard, governed the world, and J weather too 'You are fools,' said he ; "for what wea er pleases God, pleases me ; and now I hope I ha made it out.' ' 777. * Some Scotchmen being in company with soi English, the) r began to banter and jeer one anoth Says one of the Englishmen, 'Was not he a great rog that sold his king? (meaning Charles I., who fled the Scots for protection.) 'Yes,' says the Scotchma 'but he was a greater that gave the money.' Ad another, 'But he was the greatest of all that cut ofl 1 head.' S. P. Q. R. ' A jest touching these letters, S. P. Q, R. (Senntus, Populusque Romanus.) 778. It so happened, that a new pope being elect mereiy for his devotion and austerity of life, as usi an extraordinary spare diet, and seldom seen so much to smile; yet, after his inauguration, coming to sit pontificalibus, he used to feed high, to laugh heartil 1 FLOWERS OF WIT. 97 1 to countenance jesters and buffbones to make him it} at his table ; which being observed, one sets up se toure words, being correspondent to the toure tor- ir letters, Sancte Pater, Quare Rides ? To which the t day was underwritten, Rideo Quia Pajm SunC 779. Verses written on a Window in the Highlands of Scotland , by Aaron Hill. Scotland, thy weather's like a modish wife, Thy winds and rams maintain perpetual strife ; So termagant awhile her thunder tries, And when she can no longer scold she cries. 'COFFEE-HOUSE JESTS.' The following specimens of a publication with the 3ve title are extracted from a very scarce copy pre- ved in the British Museum. The fifth edition of the rk was printed in lo8b. T80. ' A gentleman that used to be smart in his repar- s, once had in his hat a very gallant and rich knot of d and silver ribbon, which some young ladies bad a id to, if they could get it handsomely, without beg- g of it; and so one of them said to him, 'Sir, you e a very fine favour in your hat ;' and so they said Pray, madam,' says he to the first, 'tell me truly, you like it ?' 'Yes indeed, sir,' says she. 'Why says he, 'if you had not liked it, I should hr>ve g it into the fire ; but since you say you like it, I test I like it the better, and am resolved to keep it your sake." 81. ' An Oxonian meeting with a bully in London, ) it seems, swore that he would take the wall of all sons he met. the Oxonian was going between the wall 1 him ; with that the bully began to thrust him back, 1 told him he did not use to give every coxcomb the II. 'No,' says the Oxonian, 'what good will the wall 98 FLOWERS OF WIT. dome without the house?' 'But,' say§ the bully don't mean to give every fool the wall.' 'But, sir,' plies the Oxonian, 'I do.' And so let him have it, marched away.' A similar adventure and a similar retort are attri ed to Dr. Johnson. ANNIBAL CARRACHI 782. Said one day to his brother Agostino, whop ed himself upon writing good verses and laughed him for his want of poetical genius : * Poets paint wi words, and painters spe.#v with the pencil.' CHTNESE PHILOSOPHY. on< 783. A mandarin, who was proud of appearing a number of jewels to every part of his robe, was o accosted by an old bonze, who, following him thro'j£ several streets, and bowing often to the ground, than ed him for his jewels. 'What do you mean ?' said tl mandarin ; ' for I have not given you any of my jei els.' ' No,' replied the bonze ; * but you have let n look at them, and that is as much as you can do yoa self; so there is no difference between us, except th you have the trouble of guarding them, anemployme I do not like, and I have not.' A PAIR OF MISERS. 784. Guy, the founder of the noble hospital whk bears his name, was a bookseller, and lived in Stock'* market, between Cornhill and Lombard-street. 1: was so complete a pattern of parsimony, that the f; mous miser Vulture Hopkins once called upon him crave a lesson on the art of savin?. Being introduce, into the parlour, Guy, as it was in ihe evening, an dark, lighted a candle. Hopkins said, * Sir, I ahvaj thought myself perfect in the art of getting and hm banding money ; but as I am informed you far excee. FLOWERS OP WIT. 99 ne, I have taken the liberty of waiting upon you, to e satisfied upon that subject.' ' O sir,' said Guy, ' if hat»be all your business, we can just as well talk it ver in the dark.' Having thus said, he put out the landle. This was enough for the Vulture : he took his eave, with this acknowledgement : ' I thought myself •erfect in the arts of saving, but you have taught me hat I had one important lesson still to learn : I thank ou for your instruction, and you may be assured my iuture conduct shall make amends for my past prodi- Jality in candles.' | J That he carried his resolution into effect, seems prob- ble from these lines of Pope : 1 When Hopkins dies, a thousand lights attend The wretch, that living sav'd a candle's end. 1 PRESENCE OF MIND. Presence of mind is that rare 'and desirable disposi- on which displays itself in a temper intrepid and se- me. It qualifies persons to take advantage of every ccurrence of the moment, to profit instantly by the listakes and faults of others, and to be fertile in all ^sources that peculiar situations may oblige them to y to. A man may be a man of genius, or of business, ut he cannot be a hero without presence of mind. 785. When the army of Cyrus was just going to en- age that of Croesus, they were thrown into great con- ernation by hearing a clap of thunder, which they mk as a bad omen. The genius of Cyrus immediate- ( suggested an interpretation of the incident to reani- late the courage of his men- * My friends,' said he, the gods declare in our favour ; let us march on : we "" follow thee, O great Jupiter, who thus givest to us le lucky omen of victory.' 786. The Mareschal de Faber, a distinguished rench officer, during a siege was pointing out a place ; idjust as he was speaking, a musquet ball carried off 21* 100 FLOWERS OP WIT. the finger with which he was pointing: he instanl| stretched out another finger, and continued the conv« sation,— * Gentlemen, as I was observing — ' 787 While commodore Anson's ship, the Centuri< was engaged in close fight with the rich Spanish g, leon which he afterwards took, a sailor came running him, and cried out, * Sir, our ship is on fire very nt the powder magaziue.' * Then pray, friend,' said t commodore, not in the least degree discomposed, ' i back and assist in putting it out.' A HINT TO PORTRAIT-PAINTERS 788. A painter took the exact likeness of a gent man of a very dark complexion. The gentleman I the picture at the painter's bouse long after it was f| ished, and neglected to pay for it. 'I he painter, tir with waiting so long for his money, hit upon this exj dient to obtain it. '-Sir,' said he to the gentleman the bronze visage, 'my neighbour the innkeeper au Blackamoor's Head wants a new sign, and has desh*j me to paint him one.' ' What then V said the gent, man. 'What then! replied the painter ; 'Why, ify, do not immediately pay me for your likeness, and ta it away, my neighbour the innkeeper shall have it.' { THE CHURCH OF ROME. 789. A protestant who had a termagant wife, b inff asked what the Church of Rome was like, answt, ed, ' Truly I think that Church as much like my w:i as any thing.' ' Why so V ' Because,' replied I Protestant, ' She commands what she pleases, withoi regard of either God or man, and then curses all t family to the devil, if they give her not instant obe( ence.' NEWSPAPERS. 790. ' Waiter,' said a traveller at a country in* &LOWERS OF WIT. tX)l king me a newspaper.' * Sir,' said the waiter, * we p badly off for papers at present : we have lost the \iy ; we have neither Sun, nor Star; a captain of a lip is reading the Pilot; and the only papers you can ke are Old Times S THE IRISH BRIGADE. 91. Louis XIV. complained to the colonel of the i Brigade, that his men were the most boisterous i ungovernable of any in the French service. ' The th of your majesty's observation is very clear,' re- ed the colonel, ' and very generally acknowledged, all your enemies say the same.' The Her. S, Smith, in one of his lectures at the yal Institution, remarked that this was one of the »t retorts that ever was made. FAMILY SECRETS. J9.2. There was a lady of the west country that gave at entertainment at her house to most ol the gallant itlemen thereabouts ; and amongst others, sir Walter leigh was one. This lady, though otherwise a state- dame, was a notable good housewife ; and in the ming betimes she called to one of her maids that ked to the swine, and asked, ' Are the pigs served V Walter Raleigh's chamber was near the lady's, so le heard her ask this question. A little before din- , the lady came down in great state into the great mber, which was full of gentlemen ; and as soon as Walter Raleigh set eye upon her, 4 Madam,' said he, !e the pigs served ?' The lady answered you know t whether you have had your breakfast.' HIGH SPIRIT. )3. At the siege of Namur, the duke of Luxemburgh imanded the French army. One of his soldiers de- ed to king William III., who asked him the reason | induced him to come over to him. ' The rea- 102 FLOWERS OF WIT. son,' said he, ' is because our army is half deac want of provisions ; but in spite ot their distress, 1 vise you not to cross the river to attack them ; fi| you do, they will give you such a beating as will mi you repent your imprudence as long as you live. CIVILISATION. 794. A traveller described the sad catastrcl of being; castaway with a few companions upon an 1 known shore. ' After walking several miles," said 1 * in a dreary and desolate country, just as we * giving ourselves over to despair, we espied a gil with a man hanging upon it. A sight so very pro ing could not fail to raise our spirits, as we were vinced we were now coming into a civilised part ot world.' PRACTICE BETTER THAN PROF] SIONS. 795. An Athenian who was deficient in eloque: but very brave, when one of his competitors in and flowery speech made great professions ot wha would do, arose and said, k Men of Athens ! all thai has promised, 1 will perform.' AN OLD CAVALIER. 796. When Oliver Cromwell first coined half-cro^ an old cavalier, looking at one of them, read thi scription, God with ws, on one side ; and The < monwealth of Flngland, on the other side : ' I see she, * that God and the commonwealth are on opp( ideas.' STATESMEN OF THE NORTH \ 797. In the recluse vales of Cumberland, li independent order of men who are called States* FLOWERS OP WIT. 103 ey transmit from father to son with little rariation ir original family property ; and their wealth con- s chiefly in large flocks of sheep. Their manners simple, and their hospitality is such as to present a itnblance of the patriarchs described by Moses and heroes of Homer. ' I recommend you,' said a esraan to a traveller, whom he had entertained in his se some days, ' to go to the valley that lies on the er side of that blue mountain, there you will find house of my neighbour, tell him you come from me : iow him not ; but fear not a hearty welcome, for sheep mingle upon the mountains.' OHN BULL TALKING FRENCH. he assertion may be hazarded, that the English :e as many, or perhaps more ridiculous blunders i respect to the French, than the French do with >ect to the English language. 98. A Johnny Bull, with his clothes covered with arrived at Paris. ' Garcon,' said he to the servant attended him, ' apportez moi une brocket Away t the servant ; and great was the amazement of my his master, to see the cook bringing him a targe instead of his servant returning with a coat-brush. 19. An English gentleman, intending to speak in le of a lady who had fine eyes, began by saying est bossue, instead of saying Elle e beaux yevx. company of course looked at her back, instead of [ace- WHAT IS A BUREAU ? •0. In a company in London, where a celebrated ss was present, a French gentleman related a ' of a person who was murdered during the ty- v of Robespierre, whilst writing in his bureau. ss me,' exclaimed the astonished actress, ' what ard-of cruelty ! to kill a man by cramming him a chest of drawers !' 104 FLOWERS OF WIT. QUEEN BESS. 801. A courtikr came running to her, and wil face full of dismay, ' Madam,' said he, ' 1 have news for you ; the party of tailors mounted on ma that attacked the Spaniards, are all cutoff.' k C< age ! friend,' said the queen ; 'this news is indeed k but when we consider tbe nature of the quadruped- the description of -the soldiers, it is some comfoi think we have lost neither man nor korse. y A DREAM. 802. An old dowager, extravagantly fond of ca went to church with apparent devotion, but lamen tint Sunday prevented her enjoyment of her favou pool of quadrille. Soon after the sermon was be she fell into a slumber, and dreamed she was play at cards, and lost all her money and jewels to a gen man very well dressed, but of a disagreeable .app ance. After placing a long time with the same ill h she continued to dream that she was reduced, as a resource, to stake her three children. She lost ther this ill-looking gentleman, who soon took himself and she discovered who he was by his cioven feet, a long tail stretched out beyond the flaps of his c 1 and the strong smell of sulphur which he left be! him. 'What is this strong smell?' said she, as awoke in a great fright. ' It proceeds,' said a lad; the pew with her, ' from a bottle of salts, which f ply to your nose, that you may awake, and hear conclusion of the sermon.' ANCIENT GREEKS MODERN. 803. How highly do we elevate the dignity of Greeks and Homansby calling them the ancients ! ' Jews, the Chinese, and the bramins speak in a far ferent manner of them now, as the Egyptians did fo erly. An Egyptian priest, conversing with Solon, j FLOWERS OF WIT. 105 ihim, ' You Greeks are always children ; you have no |ovvledge of antiquity, and no antiquity of knowledge.' A CONVERT. 04. A French officer who was a prisoner upon his iarole at Reading:, met with a Bible : he read it ; and As so struck with its contents, that he was convinced I the folly of sceptical principles, and of the truth of iristianity, and resolved to become a Protestant, lien his gay associates rallied him for taking so serious urn, he said in his vindication, 'I have done no more n my old school-fellow Bernadotte, who is become a the ran. 1 ' Yes, but he became so,' said his associ- ' to obtain a crown.' ' My motive,' said the Chris- i officer, ' is the same ; we only differ as to place: e object of Bernadotte is to obtain a crown in Swe- ; i i, — mine is to obtain a crown in heaven.' A FAIR INFERENCE. 05. \ gentleman of reduced fortune came to a son who had formerly been his servant, to borrow neyofhim. The upstart servant gave him a very rtifying reception, and asked in a haughty tone, 'Sir, f do you give me all this trouble ? upon my honour ive no money to lend you, or any one else. 5 w I am tain what you say is false, ' said the gentleman;' if you where not rich, you dare not be so saucy. 5 THE MOORS. 06 There was a cowardly Spanish soldier, who, defeat the Moors gave, ran away among: the fore- • of his countrymen. Aferwards, wl en the army erally fled, this soldier was missing. Whereupon it. reported by some that he was slain. ' No, sure/ one, ' he is alive, for the Moors do not eat hare's i. 3 106 FLOWERS OP WIT. THINGS REVERSED. I 807. A grammarian seeing an actor, who when exchimed ' O Jupiter ! held down his hand, and w he exclaimed ' O earth !' held it up, said, ' This i has committed a solecism with his hand.' A DIALOGUE. 808. The following dialogue between an uncle, his nephew was overheard in St. James' Park, in sequence of the party talking very loud. Nepherv. My dear uncle, 1 have the pleasure t( form you, that I am just returned from Perryvale, of the sweetest villages imaginable. The sun was s ing with brilliant lustre, the trees were clothed with richest foliage, the birds were warbling on every sp and a silvery stream meandered through the valley 'There every bush with nature's music rings, There every breeze bears health upon its wings.' To complete my feelings of delight in this new Area I called at the manor house upon the old squire, he introduced me to his daughter as she was walkir the garden. It seemed a little paradise, with an beautiful as innocent in it. Her eyes sparkled living lurtre, her cheeks glowed with health ; and* ga\r> me a new-blown rose, and smiled so sweetb the same time, that all the arrows of Cupid's qu could not have made a deeper wound in my poor h< what a delicious village ! O what an enchantins g Uncle O what a perfect madcap ! O what a ted rhapsody ! These are first impressions with a I geance ! Why, boy, while you were ranting at sui rale, you put me in mind of the puffing style of an: tioneer, and the gaudy colouring of a painter of s and tea-boards, but, to be serious, I think there is a tittle of real matter of fact in all you have been] ing. Why, only a few days ago I passed througtf FLOWERS OF WIT. 107 ry same place. 1 shall not soon forget it, for 1 was nost tired to death with walking- through it, and so Id that 1 wished for a great-coat. I saw nothing to mire in the village ; it was like most others, very still d very stupid. You talk of the trees and the birds : to the trees, there is hardly a stick of good timber the whole place ; if you were to cut them down, they >uld only sell for fire-wood. The only good birds ( w there, were a few geese in a pond, and I don't think i whole lot would fetch a two- pound note in Leaden- 1 market. I saw the squire's daughter, but felt none your raptures, I assure you. Indeed why should I ? I know her father cannot give her a farthing. After , there may be some mistake. Surely it was not rryvale you saw, but some other place. 1 am posi- I was there ; and that F might examine every thing better, I hardly took off my spectacles, the whole Nephew. My dear uncle, I am certain we have been king of the very same place, and the very samp per- . And now, if you will excuse my freedom, I will you the reason why you and I viewed these same ects in such different lights, 1 am no CEdipus, but I ve the einigma thus— 1 am young, and you are old. A MAN OF FAMILY. 09. 'Of what family can you boast of being de- nded V said a Castilian guerilla to an English gren- tr. * I am descended tiom Don Pedro Nunez Ve- piez de Pedrillo, who was chief trumpeter to the peror Charles V. at the battle of Pavia.' '1 cannot tend,' said the grenadier, looking very archly at the , " to trace my pedigree so far back as you do ; but [ can aver, ihat my parents made more noise in the Id than your boasted ancestor don Pedro, the great npeter ; for mv father was a drummer, ry of china at Berlin, but to share in the profits. One ay he said to Quintus Icilius, a colonel in his army, rid the son of a potter in Magdebourg, ' When you ive yourself such haughty airs, as one. of my officers, ou surely forget the low occupation of your father.' And you, sire,' retorted Icilius. very severely nettled, when you so far lose sight of your ro} r al dignity, as ► use such language to me, forget that there is but one ep between a dealer in pottery and a dealer in china.'' 820. Frederick, great conqueror as he was, sus- lined a severe defeat at Coslin in the war of 1756. time time after, at a review, he jocosely asked a sol- ier, who had got a deep cut in his cheek, fc Friend, what alehouse did you get that scratch V * I got if id the soldier, ' at Coslin, where your majesty paid le reckoning to the Russians. ' PROFESSIONAL JEALOUSY. 821. 'I will admit,' said Hogarth, ' all the world to e competent judges of my pictures, except those who re of the profession.' CLASSICAL APPLICATIOxNS. &22. Two Oxford scholars being at a loss for amuse^ lent, one said to the other, suppose we cap verses, 22* 112 FLOWERS OF WtT. * No,' said his companion, ' for I should think that dry work as chopping logic. Suppose we repeat the alternate styie of Virgil's shepherds, all the ii ious applications we can recollect of passages in Classics that have been made to modern subje< * Agreed,' said the other, ' provided we do not at the original text, nor pilfer from Jortin or Beresfc A. It was aptly said of a barber shaving, as Virgil of a flying aove, Radit iter liquidum. B. What think you of the skaiter, who, like Fai Mob Hit ale vigel, viresque acquiril cundo. A. Sadler going up with his balloon, may be supj ed to exclaim, Tentnnda via e*/, qua m* quoque possim Tollere humo, vicforqut vimm volilare per ora. B. George rluddesford prefixed this motto to his ses on a favourite eat : J)Ii,-c 839. An English traveller, well known in the north F England, who delighted to see the symptoms of as- nishinent appear upon the visages of his auditors hen be related his adventures ; was asked, If he met Ufa good shooting when he was in Portugal. He said, "here was good pigeon shooting, and the flocks were (large, that when they flew they darkened the air. Did you kill any of them ?' was the question. • No,' tid the traveller ; ' hecause when I fired I shot too w ; but the first shot I made, 1 brought down a peck * their legs.' The display of these bubbles of ostentation, orrath- ■ these meteors of extravagance, shall be closed with e following specimen. We are much mistaken if it in be exceeded by any thing of the kind. 840 A Norman and a Gascon were disputing upon e antiquity of their respective families. * i can trace y pedigree from a very high source,' said the Kor- an : ' the founder of my family dined with William b Norman the day before he set off to conquer Eng- id.' ' Your house cannot possibly contend with ours •on the score of antiquity,' retorted the Gascon, ' if u stop at the recent a;ra of W illiam the Norman. To ence you for ever upon the subject, know, to your nfusion, that our family still pays a rent-charge for >ney borrowed. Now that money \va- expended by tt of my ancestors in bisjourne} to B hlehem, when Bent to see the adoration of our Saviour by the wise n of the East! \.V 2* PUNS, Ac. Gontaining some account of an intended Work on Pun- sters, and the whole Art and Mystery of Punning ; with a word or two on the Bulls af different Coun- tries. Various definitions have been given, both in ancient and modern times, of Man. Plato said, 'he was a two- legged animal, without feathers :' and when he so af- firmed, he no doubt plumed himself on having put the subject upon a right footing — Mr. Burke thought the person worthy of great praise, who had determined mai to be k a rational cooking animal,' particularly as thai definition fully explained the proverb, ' There is reasoi, in roasting egg-s.'— We do not deny, that these at- tempts at a right definition are very ingenious and verj laudable , but, after profound meditation, we are con- vinced that something better may be done to settle the important point. In short, we have made a discovery, — such an one indeed as adds to the glories of the pre- sent very enlightened age, and such as cannot fail to be transmitted to posterity as a proof of the perfection, the ultima Thule, which the science of metci % ysics hai reached ; we have found out the only true, v > isfactory, and indisputable definition of man is, that he is a pun- ning animal. Travel where you may. from Archangel to Aberdeen, and from thence to Arabia ; trace the progress of nations, from the Huns to the Hurons and Hottentots ; to say nothing of the Jews, Greeks. Ro- mans, French, English, &,c. &c, and you will find the people of all countries are punsters, and have beente FLOWERS OF WIT. 121 from the earliest times. It is in contemplation to pub- lish a most elaborate work, in as many volumes as some recent novels, in order to lay all our proofs, or rather to exhibit all the steps of the demonstration of this im- portant truth before the world. This work will be printed upon wire- wove hot- pressed paper, in a new type cast on purpose, and will no doubt be subscribed for by all the crowned heads in Europe, as well as by the emperor of Hayti. As, however, we are aware of the lively interest which this notification is calculated to excite in the public mind ; while the makers are busily at work manufacturing the paper, and the foun- ders are casting the types, we shall endeavour to allay the ardent thirst of general curiosity, by presenting the public with the following sketch of our performance. Puns are of two kinds. I. The Echo pun, when one word is so similar in sound to another, as to be nearly a repetition of it. II. The pun Equivocal, when a word is taken in two different senses. Punning has the authority of high antiquity to plead in its favour. The use of the rhetorical figure called pamnomn sia is not uncommon in the Hebrew Scrip- tures, and many instances of puns are to be found in the Greek and Latin Classics. Even old Homer, very serious as he generally was, amused himself with this kind of plaything. He describes Ulysses, ' the man for wisdom's various arts renowned,' saving himself from being eaten alive, by the fabrication of a very seasonable equivoque. Ulysses tells Polypheme that his name is Noman (Own?,) and the unsuspecting giant gives him credit for speaking the truth. When the rest of the clan of Cyclops come running to the assistance of their out-witted brother, they inquire who had put out his eye. He says, — * Friends, Noman kills me, Noman in the hour Of sleep oppresses me with fraudful power.' ! 2 2 r low efts df wit. The answer, — * Ii no man hurt thee, but the hand divine Inflicts disease, it (it? thee to resign ; To .We, and to thj father Neptune pray, Tne brethren cri' d, and instant stioue away. Odyy-s. ix. 341. We have before noticed the facetiousness ol Cicero: it appears that he was fond of indulging in this species of it, as may be seen in the two 10! lowing instances selected from many others. TdBCOvetouj farmer, who ploughed up the ground where hi* was buried, he 'said, ' Hoc est vere sepvlchrum j colere.' And on Verro, who bought a v« rv gm; i fit d, and called it a farm, he wrote the following epigram : — 1 Fundum Vnrro vocut. qutun possum mittere funda, Ni tamen exciderit, qua cdvafuiuiti paid.' 1 842. When Pope Gregory the Great, as Venerable Bede relates, saw some beautiful boys, who were to be sold for slaves in a market in Kome, he asked what country they came from ? He was told they were Audi, ' They are rightly so called, 1 said he, * for they have the faces of Anzeli, and are fit to share the inheritance of angels in heaven :' So he sent St. Augustin to Bri- tain, to convert the inhabitants-. He was told th;; the name of the king of Britain was Alia : ' Then/ said he 4 AUe\ujdL ought to be sung in that country to the praise of the Creator.' When he was told these beautiful boys were born in a part of the island called Deira : 4 Then,' said he, ' Dp Ira Dei sunt liberandi.' 843. The custom of punning continued to prevail in the dark sges, and continued also to be applied to the most serious, or rather grave subjects. Witness the' epitaph written upon Fair Kosamund, in the twelfth century : — ' Hie jar.ft in Iambi Rosa J\f>rndi, non Rnsamunda, JV,m redolet, std olet, quoc redohre soltt.'' Shakspeare abounds in puns, as Plautus did before. FLOWERS OF WIT. 123 him. Our great dramatist was indeed possessed by the most violent mania for this kind of wit : he indulged it upon all occasions, serious as well as comic ; and his kings and knights, courtiers and clowns, are like horses ia a team, for all wear bells of the same metal, and make the same jingle. Milton is faulty in this respect, for he so far forgets the dignity of epic poetry,— the * height of his great argument,' as to make the fallen angels express their triumphant merriment in a string of puns. The reign of James I. was the golden age of pun- ning ; and the rage prevailed so much, during his and the succeeding reigns, in the universities of Oxford and Cambridge, that it seems rather extraordinary they did not confer degrees, or give prizes, to the best punsters. Some of the last keen word-hunters that were bred in the old school in Oxford, were Dr. Leigh, who was for more than half a century master of Baliol college, Dr. Barton, warden of Merton, Thomas Warton, of Trini- ty, and professor White. Many of their puns, good, bad, and indifferent, are still remembered by the senior members of the university ; but most of them have fallen into oblivion, with the occasions that produced them. OXFORD PUNSTERS. Anthony Wood, the famous Oxford antiquary, compiled a collection of Bon Mots, called Modius Sa- Hum. The following is a specimen of their attic or an- tiquarian salt. 844. 'There was a large pear fit for baking which was called a warden pear. On the subject of warden pears, one Clerk, of Magdalen college, gave the fol- lowing characters of the four wardens of his time tnu?: Dr. Smith, one of the first wardens of Wadham, and young, he styled the green warden ;— Dr. Lake, warden of New college, ready to fall off to the bishop- rick of Bath and Wells, the ripe warden ;— Sir Henry Saville, warden of Merton, gouty in body, the rot- 23* 124 FLOWERS OF WIT. ten warden ; — and Dr. Mocket, warden of All-Souls, whose book on the liturgy of the church of England was burnt, the roasted warden.' From a passage in 'Cupid's Revenge,' by Beaumonl and Fletcher, we may conclude that these pears were usually roasted : 'I would have him roasted like a warden. In brown paper.' DR. LEIGH. 845. A roguish tenant of Baliol college slily felled the trees upon his farm, and put the money in his pocket. Soon after he called upon Dr. Leigh to pay his rent, and the doctor inquired into the state of the trees. 'Atas ! sir,' said the tenant, 'a great . misfor- tune has happened to them ; a high wind has blown them all down.' 'No, no,' said the doctor, who knew his man, you mistake ; it must have been not a high wind, but a cutting wind to do so much execution.' DR. BARTON. 84G. At the time when the bridge was building over the Chenvell near Magdalen college, disputes often ran high between the university and the city of Oxford. Dr. Barton, warden of Merton college, was consulted whether it would not be proper to put up the armsof the university on one side of the bridge, and those of the city opposite to them, '1 am,' said he to those who consulted him, 'no friend to the plan, as you know it is always unpleasant to see the uni- versity and the city up in arms against each other.'' 847. Dr. Barton was in company with Dr. Nash, just as he was going to publish his work on the an tiquities of Worcestershire. *I fear,' said Dr. Bar ton, - there will be a great many inaccuracies in you books, when they come out.' 'How are errors to ' 5 FLOWERS OF WIT. 125 ivoided.?' said Dr. Nash. 'Very easily,' said Dr. Bar- ton ; 'Are you not a justice of peace V 'I am,' said Dr. Nash. 'Why then,' replied the old warden, 'you have nothing to do, but to send your books to the house of correction.'' 848. Dr. Barton once invited Crowe, of New college, to dine with him. Crowe asked, who were coming. You see/ said the warden, 'here is Rook, and one Bird more, and then we will go to dinner.' — Rook and Bird- more were the names of two of the fellows of Merton. MR. COOKE THE PROCTOR. 849. As the contest for the Cinical professorship was J £oing on between Dr. Wall and Dr. Vivian, in the Con- vocation-house in Oxford, Dr. Sibthorp, well known for lis parsimony, came to tender his vote. It was queri- ed, upon the ground that his name did not appear upon he books of any college or hall. But it was argued, in lupport of his vote, that it was valid, as the doctor :ame under the description of the statute, as Doctor ommorans qui alit familiam. Now it happened that \\r. Cooke of New college, to whom the case was re- erred, was both a wag and a punster. So alluding to he doctor's well-known oeconomy, particularly in the rticle of malt liquor — 'Qui alit, Ale it!' said the proc- or, 'why he does not even small beer it/ This joke was repealed through the Convocation- louse ; and as it was a complete illustration of the ri- iiculum crcWof Horace, by exciting a general laugh, it )ut all parties in good humour. The following specimens, if not thought the best that ;an be given, at least show the prevalence of the prac- ice of punning in various countries, and its extent tmong various classes in society. In former times, punning was applied to all subjects, erious as well as jocose. In modern times, the great 126 FLOWERS OF WIT. object of the punster is to raise a laugh. This effect generally produced ; although when he makes an u lucky attempt, the laugh is directed against himse Thus an awkward sportsman is struck by the recoil his own gun. A LATIN PUN. 850. One of the best and most extensive that pe haps ever was made, was the application of a passa£ in Virgil's Eclogues, to a Collection of Puns : The a< dress to the reader was, Punica mala leges. A SPANISH PUN. 851. A beautiful Spanish girl was playing a guitar to a gentleman some of her national airs ar songs, but did not accompany them with her voice. C his asking her to sing, she looked archly at him, ar/ replied, Yo no puedo cantar, pern pvedo incanta , Had she been playing sacred music, the pun migl have been conveyed in an English translation. '1 car not chant, but 1 can enchant.' FRENCH PUNS. 852. Deux predicateurs prechoient dans la mem eglise, dont 1'un avoit une voix tres forte. Quel qu'u dit que la difference entre le predicateur du matin, c celui du soir etoit, que le premier prechoit/or* bien, le second bienfort. 853. L'opera Fatme, etoit d'abord entitule Le Lar gage de Fleurs. On demandoit, si Ton trouveroit beat coup de pensees dans le Langage de Fleurs. 'Je pui repondre,' dit gaiement 1'auteur, 'qu'au moins on n'' trouvera point de soucisS 854. Le Pere Poree", qui professoit avec tant^d'ecla h rhetorique, rencontra un jour un magistrat qu'i FLOWERS OF WIT. 127 iroit loue dans une de ses harangues. Le celebre Je- uite s'inclina pourle saluer, ceiui ci ne lui rendit point esaiut. 'Mon frere,' dit le Pere Poree" au religieux fui J'accompagnoit : *Voila un magistrat bien droit/ 855. Lord Anson fell in with a French squadron, :ommanded by Jonquiere, a skilful and brave admiral. Several of his ships were taken, as well as Jonquiere him- ;ell. Among the prizes were two iine-of- battle ships, P nvincibJe,and la Gloire. Jonquiere when introduced to he victor paid him a compliment, which showed equal ivacity and good humour. * Vou have,' said he to oid Anson, 'done wonders ; for you have conquered he Invincible, and you are followed by Glory/ 856. In the year 1791, at the time when the promot- rs of the French revolution were by many made the ubjects of ridicule, the following punning epitaph pon banterre the brewer, who had commenced sol- ier, was in every one's mouth in Paris, and was highly Jlished as a bon mot of the first class : — 'Cy git Sunterre, Quiri' a pas de Mars que sa bonne biere.' HORSES' TAILS. 857. L\ the rebellion in 1745, some disaffected rogues ut off the tails of the horses belonging to a regiment liat was stationed in the King's Mews. When the efalcation was discovered, the colonel in great vex- tion exclaimed, 'What must we do ? 'Do !' said a jteg, 'why you must sell the horses, by wholesale.'' v\ hy so ? said the colonel. 'Because,' said he, 'it is ery plain you cannot re-tail them.'' The delight of a punster reaches its acme, when he an make two puns upon the same word. Thus the wilful sportsman kills a bird with each of the barrels of ii gun. 858. Old Dennis, the author of several plays, pass- 128 FLOWERS OF WIT. ing by a brandy-shop, the master came out, and desire< the favour of him to drink a dram. 'For what reason 1 said Dennis. 'Because,' said the master, 'you are i| dramatic poet.' When Dennis had complied with th« invitation, and was going to walk away, the master ask ed him to pay for it. Dennis surprised said, 'Did yoi Dot ask me to drink a dram, because I was a dra7nd.l1 poet V 'Yes, sir,' replied the master, 'but I would nc have asked you, had I thought you a drann at ta'cfcpoet. 859. Mr. Congreve going up the Thames in a boal the waterman lo!d him, as they passed by Peterborough house at Mill-bank, that the house had sunk a story Mr. Congreve thinking this very extraordinary, 'Friend, said he, 'I rather believe it is a story raised? A WATER DRINKER. 860. A relative of Mrs. Malaprop, well knewn fo marring the words of her native language, complained that in consequence of a disorder in her stomach, whicl she called a cataplasm (a spasm), her physician ha< put her into a regiment (a regimen), and ordered her tt drink water. 'Surely madam,' said a wag, 'yourregi ment is«tbe Cold Stream? THE IRISH BAR. 861. Counsellor Colbach, who was well known the Irish bar for his great professional knowledge a acuteness, was remarkable for the shabbiness of dress. One day, as he was coming into the co with his hands filled with briefs, he met a rival b rister. This gentleman, wishing to be severe u the counsellor, said, 'What, are you here with y old clothes !' 'No,' said the counsellor, triumphant^ showing him his papers, 'not with my old clothes, b(H with my new suits? FLOWERS OP WIT. 129 ARTIFICIAL DIAMONDS. 862. A lady at a supper given on a public occasion iisplayed in an ostentatious manner a profusion of artif- icial diamonds, which she had purchased at the shop of he well-known Dovey. She long teased a lady who sat iext her with a great deal of impertinent conversation, «nd with obstrusive attention offered to help her to the aintiesupon the table. 'Shall 1,' said she, ' send you puff?'' ' 1 thank you, madam,' said the other, ' you iad better take one yourself, as you seem to be very fond of paste.' Asa finale to this choice collection, we present the ourteous reader with the following string of Echo puns, urpassing all others. It is taken from a very scarce •vork, published in the reign of James I. This pre- :ious morceau has been often printed in a very incor- rect and imperfect manner: — we now present it in its original beauty. 863. A divine willing to play more with words, than to be serious in the expounding of his text, spake thus in some part of his sermon : ' This Dyall shewes we must die all: yet notwithstanding, all houses are turned in'.o ale-houses ; our cares are turned into cates ; our paradise, is a pair of dice; our marriage, into a merry age; our matrimony, into a matter of money ; our divines, into dry vines. It was not so in the days of Noah, M no /' BULLS OF VARIOUS COUNTRIES*. if s Some persons were talking of Edgeworth's Essay on*' ' Irish Bulls,' and highly commended her for her ingen- ious vindication of her countrymen. One of the partj observed, that ' among the natives of almost ah countries, may be found instances of that ludicrous con- fusion of thoughts, that precipitate expression ol incongruous ideas, which constitutes a bull:' and he (if added, that' Paddy the Irishman has a number of blun-m ders attributed to him, of which he is in fact not thee breeder ; at the same time, he must allow he has no |i small stock of his own to answer for.' GREEK BULLS. Start not at this title, O ye ceaseless investigators of the profundities of Aristotle; or ye infallible ex- 1 founders of the metrical difficulties of iEschylus and indar ; or ye perspicuous solvers of the prophetical aenigmas of Lycophron ; — that you may be satisfied | such creatures as Greek bulls are not the offspring of our invention ; but that they actually do exist, know, we discovered the following fine specimens in a ivorl called Ao-rs/i attributed to Hierocles, an eminent Pla- tonic philosopher, who, you may recollect, wrote a com- mentary on the Golden Verses of Pythagoras. This same person is celebrated by Photius, in his Bibliothe- cd.* for his splendid services as ambassador to foreij states from the Roman government : and likewise s FLOWERS OF WIT. 131 lis excellent literary productions, which Photius has eviewed, If you are not content with the following ample, H'eroces will supply you with more such neat attle, a> thorough-bred as were ever brought from the lountainsof Wicklow, or the valleys of Ballynahinch, We are not to be informed that some critics have ex- >res*ed doubts whether the Ao-tu* be a genuine work »f Hierocles. We leave this point for some Bentley to ettle ; all we contend for, is, that the work is of Greek rigin. that it is very antient, and written much in the tyle of the undoubted productions of Hierocles ; had t not possessed all these pretensions to authenticity, would not have so long stood its ground, and been rinted with his other works. It is remarkable that the 'O 2%\oxtriKoc (the Stu- ent or Scholar) is introduced merely to serve as a butt, j jst as the Oxford scholar is introduced by Joe Mil- * ;r, in his * Jest Book,' for the same convenient and lu- icrous purpose. 864. A scholar wanting to swim, was nearly drowned the attempt. Upon which he vowed he would nev- f touch the water until he had been taught to swim. 865. A scholar wishing to catch a mouse that nib- ed his books, baited a trap, and sat by it to watch. 866. \ scholar, hearing it said that ravens lived to be vo hundred years old, bought one, saying, * I wish to y the experiment.' This story is told by Furetiere, the French lexico- rapher, of a friend of his. He has added a circum- ance, indeed, which increases the magnitude of the ill ; for he says that his friend, when he purchased e raven, had passed his grand climacteric. 867. A scholar meeting a friend said, ' T dreamed st night that I saw you and talked with you.' ' 1 beg 24 132 FLOWERS OF WIT. your pardon, 5 said the friend, ' for not listening ti what you said.' 868. A scholar wishing to know if he looked hand some when he was asleep, sat before a looking-glas, with his eyes shut. 869. One of twin brothers happened to die. I scholar meeting the survivor, inquired of him: ' Praj tell me, which of you was it that died, you or you brother V These two last bulls pass current as genuine Irish 870. A scholar, a bald headed man, and a barbe: travelled together, and agreed to keep watch fou hours at a time. It was the barber's turn to watc! first ; he employed himself in shaving the head of tin sleeping scholar ; and when his time of watching was expired, waked him. The scholar, rubbing his head and finding it smooth, called out, ' What a rogue i: this barber, for he has waked the bald-headed man when he ought to have waked me !' Here is. a charming confusion of personal identity This bull was. lately circulated in a very genteel com pany, in London, as an excellent modern joke fresl from Ireland ; and, as usual, an Irishman was substi tuted for the scholar, and made the butt of the tale. A SPANISH HULL. 871. A student of the university of Salamanca, g ing out with a party to shoot rabbits, was desired not U talk Jest he should frighten and hinder them from com ing out of the woods to feed. As soon as he sa«! several of them running out, he exclaimed, Ecce cunicn\ li multi. When his companion blamed him, he ex; pressed his surprise by saying ; ' Who could suppose that rabbits understand Latin V 872. The following: Spanish proverb seems o, the bull breed : El mejor de los dados es no jiigarlt mce for carriage not being many hundred yards The whole lands being now in great heart and comi pletely laid dawn, entirely surrounded and divided b) impenetrable furze ditches, made of quarried stone lain edgeways ' 882. This bull certainly looks very finely, but w< have met with one of English breed, who trots well bj h- si ie. Or. Grey, In his note- on Hud i bras, recorJ the deposition of a lawyer, who iu an action of batterj FLOWERS OF WIT. 135 Id the judge, that the defendant beat his client with a ertain wooden instrument called an iron pestle.* 883. An Irishman was asked how his mother did.-^- IVIy jewel,' said he, ' I am much obliged to you for our inquiries, but I never had a mother.' * How is iat V said his friend. ' Why, don't you know,' said addy, ' that I am the son of my aunt ?' 884. An Irishman was travelling in a chaise with a entleman, who expressed great concern, lest some chi- e a he had in a box with bim should be broken. As the arriage was rattling over the rough pavement of Brent- >rd, the Irishman exclaimed, 'You have indeed reason | ) fear for your china, for they would now be dashed to ieces, if they were made of iron.' BULL AFTER BULL: 885. In Faulkner's * Freeman's Journal,' published 4n Dublin, the editor, during the government of the " luke of Dorset, removed an error of the press in the ol lowing correct manner. — Erratum : In our last Jour- al, for 'Aer grace the duke of Dorset,' read 'his grace °|he duchess. ,' 886. An Irishman observing the increase of houses in {London, said, very forcibly, ' London is gone out of n own. and there will be no end of the streets, but the a .and's End.' 4 Thus, gentle reader (to use the words of an old 5ome