On our Lady Church in Salisbury.
How many dayes in one whole year there be,
So many windows in one church we see,
So many marble pillars there appear,
As there are hours throughout the fleeting year.
So many gates, as moons one year do view,
Strange tale to tell, yet not so strange as true.
G.K.
Astronomical Toasts.—Lord Chesterfield dined one day with the French and Spanish ambassadors. After dinner, toasts were proposed. The Spanish ambassador proposed the King of Spain under the title of the Sun. The French ambassador gave his king as the Moon. Lord C. then arose, "Your excellencies," said he, "have taken the two greatest luminaries, and the Stars are too small for a comparison with my royal master. I therefore beg to give your excellencies, Joshua."
Talleyrand.—(The following bon mot is worthy of extract from the Literary Gazette, and smacks of the raciest days of the noble utterer.) M. Talleyrand was enjoying his rubber, when the conversation turned on the recent union of an elderly lady of respectable rank. "However could Madame de S——— make such a match? a person of her birth to marry a valet-de-chambre!" "Ah," replied Talleyrand, "it was late in the game; at nine we don't reckon honours."