A worthy Roman Catholic clergyman, well known as "Priest Matheson," and universally respected in the district, had charge of a mission in Aberdeenshire, and for a long time made his journeys on a piebald pony, the priest and his "Pyet Shelty" sharing an affectionate recognition wherever they came. On one occasion, however, he made his appearance on a steed of a different description, and passing near a Seceding meeting-house, he forgathered with the minister, who, after the usual kindly greetings, missing the familiar pony, said, "Ou, priest! fat's come o' the auld Pyet?"—"He's deid, minister."—"Weel, he was an auld faithfu' servant, and ye wad nae doot gie him the offices o' the Church?"—"Na, minister," said his friend, not quite liking this allusion to his priestly offices, "I didna dee that, for ye see he turned Seceder afore he deed, an' I buried him like a beast." He then rode quietly away.
MCCXXXIX.—CREDIT.
Among the witty aphorisms upon this unsafe topic, are Lord Alvanley's description of a man who "muddled away his fortune in paying his tradesmen's bills"; Lord Orford's definition of timber, "an excrescence on the face of the earth, placed there by Providence for the payment of debts"; and Pelham's argument, that it is respectable to be arrested, because it shows that the party once had credit.
MCCXL.—SEEING NOT BELIEVING.
A lady's-maid told her mistress that she once swallowed several pins together. "Dear me!" said the lady, "didn't they kill you?"
MCCXLI.—SPIRIT OF A GAMBLER.
A bon-vivant, brought to his death-bed by an immoderate use of wine, after having been told that he could not in all human probability survive many hours, and would die by eight o clock next morning, exerted the small remains of his strength to call the doctor back, and said, with the true spirit of a gambler, "doctor, I'll bet you a bottle I live till nine!"
MCCXLII.—BURKE'S TEDIOUSNESS.
Though upon great occasions Burke was one of the most eloquent of men that ever sat in the British senate, he had in ordinary matters as much as any man the faculty of tiring his auditors. During the latter years of his life the failing gained so much upon him, that he more than once dispersed the house, a circumstance which procured him the nickname of the Dinner-bell. A gentleman was one day going into the House, when he was surprised to meet a great number of people coming out in a body. "Is the House up?" said he: "No," answered one of the fugitives, "but Mr. Burke is up."