Dr. Burgess, a Methodist preacher, who often indulged in pointed remarks, perceiving some young men attending his preaching, whose behaviour plainly showed that amusement was their only object, turned his discourse, and addressed himself particularly to them as follows:—
"Young men, I know you are come to hear a story, and I will tell you one. There was once a man, a cock, and a bull, who, being intimate, agreed to travel together. They had not gone far on their journey when they found themselves on the brink of a river, which they had determined to cross, but could discover neither bridge nor ferry. After a consultation it was agreed the cock should first make the attempt of crossing the water, which he did without much difficulty; the bull afterwards plunged into the stream, and by mere strength waded through. The man, not being able to swim, was afraid to follow his companions; and while they were encouraging him from the other side to get over, he was observed to cut some osiers which grew by the water-side. Perhaps you imagine these were intended to form a vehicle for conveying him across the river? No such thing, I assure you. What other purpose could he design them for? I will tell you, young men; it was to lash the backs of those fools who chose to hear a story of a cock and a bull, rather than the word of God."
PHILIP S. KING.
"Multa renascentur," &c.
—To show how stories are made standing dishes with what we may call current sauce (no pun intended), take the following:—If we believe anything to have happened in our own day, that is, in Liverpool or Castlereagh time, it is the anecdote of the borough-monger who would answer nothing to the excuses of the minister, except "There are five of us." This story was told as an old one in the Telegraph in 1798; and a long dialogue was given between Lord Falmouth, who wanted the Captaincy of the Yeomen of the Guard, and Henry Pelham, who had promised it elsewhere. To all the poor minister could say, the peer could only answer, "There are seven of us." I hope that, in an age when coincidences are sought for, Wordsworth will not be suspected of plagiarism.
Again, what reader of gossip does not know that when George III. went to Weymouth, the Mayor, in making his address, mistook the private directions of his prompter for parts of his address, and gave it the King as follows:—"Hold up your head, and look like a man—what the —— do you mean?... By ——, Sir, you'll ruin us all." This story was told in a newspaper in 1797, as having happened between James II. and the Mayor of Winchester.
In the Monthly Magazine in 1798, is a paper on peculiarities of expression, among which are several which we flatter ourselves belong to our own time. For instance, "to cut a person," which was then current: some tried to change it into spear, but failed. Also, to vote, as in "he voted it a bad lounge;" and the words bore, done up, dished, &c.; not forgetting spilt for "upset" in a carriage.
The parliamentary phrases of "catching the speaker's eye," "being upon his legs," "meeting the ideas of the house," "committing himself," "taking shame to himself," "being free to confess," "putting a question roundly," "answering it fairly," "pushing an investigation," are all noted as then worthy of remark. And, if we are to trust the article cited, the word truism was born and bred in the House of Commons, in the sense of a forcible and undeniable truth. And the same origin is given to the idiom "in my own mind" as in "I feel no doubt, in my own mind,..."
M.