In cleanliness, the Duke was negligent to so great a degree, that he rarely made use of water for purposes of bodily refreshment and comfort. Nor did he change his linen more frequently than he washed himself. Complaining, one day, to Dudley North, that he was a martyr to rheumatism, and had ineffectually tried every remedy for its relief, "Pray, my lord," said he, "did you ever try a clean shirt?"
MCCXLVIII.—CLEARING EMIGRANTS.
An Irish gentleman, resident in Canada, was desirous to persuade his sons to work as backwoodsmen, instead of drinking champagne at something more than a dollar a bottle. Whenever this old gentleman saw his sons so engaged he used to exclaim, "Ah, my boys! there goes an acre of land, trees and all."
MCCXLIX.—PARLIAMENTARY CASE.
Bishop Andrews, who was master and a great benefactor of Pembroke Hall, was one day at court with Waller the poet, and others. While King James was at dinner, attended by Andrews, Bishop of Winchester, and Neale, Bishop of Durham, his Majesty said to the prelates: "My lords, cannot I take my subjects' money when I want it, without all this formality in Parliament?" Bishop Neale quickly replied, "God forbid, sir, but you should: you are the breath of our nostrils." On which the king said to the Bishop of Winchester, "Well, my lord, and what say you?"—"Sir," replied Andrews, "I have no skill to judge of Parliamentary cases."—"Come, come," answered his Majesty, "no put-offs, my lord; answer me presently."—"Then, sir," said Andrews, "I think it lawful for you to take my brother Neale's money, for he offers it."
MCCL.—OUTLINE OF AN AMBASSADOR.
When the Duke de Choiseul, who was a remarkably meagre-looking man, came to London to negotiate a peace, Charles Townsend, being asked whether the French government had sent the preliminaries of a treaty, answered, "he did not know, but they had sent the outline of an ambassador."
MCCLI.—NATURE AND ART.
A worthy English agriculturist visited the great dinner-table of the Astor House Hotel, in New York, and took up the bill of fare. His eye caught up the names of its—to him—unknown dishes: "Soupe à la flamande"—"Soupe à la Creci"—"Langue de Bœuf piquée"—"Pieds de Cochon à la Ste. Ménéhould"—"Patés de sanglier"—"Patés à la gelée de volailles"—"Les cannelons de crème glacée." It was too much for his simple heart. Laying down the scarlet-bound volume in disgust, he cried to the waiter, "Here, my good man, I shall go back to first principles! Give us some beans and bacon!"