935. A beauish marquis waited on some ladies, in order to take them to the Paris Observatory, where the celebrated Cassini was to observe an eclipse of the sun. The arrival of this party had been delayed by the toilet; and the eclipse was over when the petit-maitre appeared at the door. He was informed he had come too late, and that all was over. Never mind, ladies, said he, step up; Monsieur Cassini is a particular friend of mine; he will be so obliging as to begin again for me.
936. When Rabelais was on his death-bed, a consultation of physicians was called. Dear gentlemen, said the wit to the doctors, raising his languid head, let me die a natural death.
937. Dr. Busby, whose figure was beneath the common size, was one day accosted in a public coffee-room, by an Irish baronet of colossal stature, with, May I pass to my seat, O Giant? When the doctor, politely making way, replied, Pass, O Pigmy! Oh, sir, said the baronet, my expression alluded to the size of your intellect. And my expression, sir, said the doctor, to the size of your’s.
938. An apothecary, who used to value himself on his knowledge of drugs, asserted that all bitter things were hot. No, said a gentleman present, there is one of a very different quality—a bitter cold day.
939. Philip, Earl Stanhope, whose dress always corresponded with the simplicity of his manners, was once prevented from going into the House of Peers by a door-keeper who was unacquainted with his person. Lord Stanhope was resolved to get into the house without explaining who he was; and the door-keeper, equally determined on his part, said to him, Honest man, you have no business here; honest man, you can have no business in this place. I believe, rejoined his lordship, you are right; honest men have no business here.
940. When the late King of Denmark was in England, he very frequently honoured Sir Thomas Robinson with his company, though the knight spoke French in a very imperfect manner, and the king had scarce any knowledge of English. One day, when Sir Thomas was in company with the late Lord Chesterfield, and boasted much of his intimacy with the king, and added, that he believed the monarch had a greater friendship for him than any man in England, How report lies, exclaimed Lord Chesterfield; I heard no later than this day, that you never met but a great deal of bad language passed between you.
941. One of the most flattering and ingenious compliments Frederick ever paid, was that which he addressed to the celebrated General Laudohn, at the time of his interview with the emperor at the camp of Neiss. After they had discoursed for about an hour, the two monarchs sat down to dinner, with the princes and general officers in their train. Marshal Laudohn, who had been invited among the rest, was about to seat himself at the bottom of the table, but the king bade him come and sit by him, saying, Come here, General Laudohn; I have always wished to see you on my side, instead of fronting me.
942. Dr. Walcot, better known as Peter Pindar, called one day upon a bookseller in Paternoster Row, the publisher of his works, by way of inquiring into the literary and other news of the day. After some chat, the doctor was asked to take a glass of wine with the seller of his wit and poetry. Our author consented to accept of a little negus as an innocent morning beverage; when instantly was presented to him a cocoa-nut goblet, with the face of a man carved on it. Eh! eh! said the doctor, what have we here? A man’s skull, replied the bookseller; a poet’s for what I know. Nothing more likely, rejoined the facetious doctor, for it is universally known that all you booksellers drink your wine from our skulls.
943. A gentleman who was dining with another, praised very much the meat, and asked who was the butcher? His name is Addison. Addison! echoed the guest, pray is he any relation to the poet? In all probability he is, for he is seldom without his steel (Steele) by his side.
944. Swift having paid a visit at Sir Arthur Acheson’s country seat, and being, on the morning of his return to his deanery, detained a few minutes longer than he expected at his breakfast, found, when he came to the door, his own man on horseback, and a servant of Sir Arthur’s holding the horse he was to ride himself. He mounted, turned the head of his horse towards his own man, and asked him in a low voice if he did not think he should give something to the servant who held his horse, and if he thought five shillings would be too much: No, sir, it will not, if you mean to do the thing handsomely, was the reply. The dean made no remark upon this, but when he paid his man’s weekly account, wrote under it, Deducted from this, for money paid to Sir Arthur’s servant for doing your business, five shillings.