Quips and Quiddities: A Quintessence of Quirks, Quaint, Quizzical, and Quotable — Reading Companion

Bobus was very amusing. He is a great authority on Indian matters. We talked of the insects and the snakes, and he said a thing which reminded me of his brother Sydney: "Always, sir, manage to have at your table some fleshy blooming young writer or cadet, just come out, that the mosquitoes may stick to him, and leave the rest of the company alone."

LORD MACAULAY, _Life_.

Lady Greenwich, in a conversation with Lady Tweeddale, named the Saxons. "The Saxons, my dear," cried the Marchioness; "who were they?" "Lord, madam, did your ladyship never read the History of England?" "No, my dear; pray, who wrote it?"

HORACE WALPOLE, _Correspondence_.

_ON THE MARRIAGE OF A MR. LOT AND A MISS SALTER._

Because on her way she chose to halt, Lot's wife, in the Scriptures, was turned into salt; But though in her course she ne'er did falter, This young Lot's wife, strange to say, was Salter.

HICKS, _apud_ J. C. YOUNG.

Hook was dining at Powell's one day, and the talk fell upon _feu_ Jack Reeve. "Yes," said Theodore, when they were speaking of his funeral, "I met him in his private box, going to the pit."

H. F. CHORLEY, _Life and Letters_.

Old Orpheus played so well, he moved old Nick, While thou mov'st nothing but thy fiddlestick!

_A Collection of Epigrams_ (1727).

A lady from China who was dining with the Archbishop [Whately] told him that English flowers reared in that country lose their perfume in two or three years. "Indeed!" was the immediate remark, "I had no idea that the Chinese were such de-scent-ers."

E. J. WHATELY's _Life of Whately_.

That Picture-Raffles will conduce to nourish Design, or cause good colouring to flourish, Admits of logic-chopping and wise-sawing: But surely Lotteries encourage Drawing?

THOMAS HOOD, _Whims and Oddities_.

Robert Smith (brother of Sydney, and familiarly called "Bobus") was a lawyer and an ex-Advocate-General, and happened on one occasion to be engaged in argument with an excellent physician touching the merits of their respective professions. "You must admit," urged Dr. ----, "that your profession does not make angels of men." "No," was the retort, "there you have the best of it; yours certainly gives them the first chance."

ABRAHAM HAYWARD, _Essays_.

In London I never know what I'd be at, Enraptured with this, and enchanted by that; I'm wild with the sweets of variety's plan, And Life seems a blessing too happy for man.

But the Country, Lord help me! sets all matters right; So calm and composing from morning to night; Oh! it settles the spirits when nothing is seen But an ass on a common, a goose on a green.

CHARLES MORRIS, _Lyra Urbanica_.

Parler d'amour, c'est faire amour.

BALZAC, _Physiologie du Mariage_.

At the Polish ball, the Lord Mayor said to Lady Douglas, who squints, "Which do you prefer, my lady, Gog or Magog?" "Of the _three_," said Lady Douglas, "I prefer your lordship!"

B. R. HAYDON, _Diary_.

_ON THE CAPPADOCIANS._

A viper bit a Cappadocian's hide; But 'twas the viper, not the man, that died.

ANON., _from the Greek_.

The merits of a certain American diplomatist being on the _tapis_, [Washington Irving] said, in allusion to his pomposity, "Ah, he is a great man; and, in his own estimation, a very great man--a man of great weight. When he goes to the West, the East tips up."

J. C. YOUNG, _Diary_.

When a rapt audience has encored "Fra Poco" Or "Casta Diva," I have heard that then The Prima Donna, smiling herself out, Recruits her flagging powers with bottled stout.

C. S. CALVERLEY, _Verses and Translations_.

I believe everything. It saves one such a world of bore from intelligent people who are anxious to explain things you doubt about.

_Lucy Forrester_, in BROOKS' _Aspen Court_.

Rank so friendly now with trade is, Bill discounters titled ladies Stoop to raise. Manners used to make the man, It is only money can Nowadays.

J. JEMMETT BROWNE, _Songs of Many Seasons_.

Black is a great fact. Want of fashion in the cut; want of richness in the material; want of _chic_ in the wearer--all these it covers, like charity. There's a sentiment about it which appeals to the feelings, and it is becoming to the skin.

Are you quite sure that Pygmalion is the only person who ever fell in love with his own handiwork?

Duty,--that's to say the complying With whate'er's expected here, On your unknown cousin's dying, Straight be ready with the tear; Upon etiquette relying, Unto usage nought denying, Lend your waist to be embraced, Blush not even, never fear.

A. H. CLOUGH, _Poems_.

What Jenner said on hearing in Elysium that complaints had been made of his having a statue in Trafalgar Square:--

England, ingratitude still blots The escutcheon of the brave and free: I saved you many million spots, And now you grudge one spot to me.

SHIRLEY BROOKS, _Wit and Humour_.

Deh! what are we sinners doing all our lives? Making soup in a basket, and getting nothing but the scum for our stomachs.

_Machiavelli_, in GEORGE ELIOT's _Romola_.

My idea of an agreeable person is a person who agrees with me.

_Hugo Bohun_, in LORD BEACONSFIELD's _Lothair_.

"Will you walk a little faster?" said a whiting to a snail, "There's the porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my tail. See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance! They are waiting on the shingle--will you come and join the dance?

"You can really have no notion how delightful it will be When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!" But the snail replied, "Too far, too far!" and gave a look askance, Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance.

LEWIS CARROLL, _Alice in Wonderland_.

I could draw on wood at a very tender age. When a mere child I once drew a small cartload of turnips over a wooden bridge. The people of the village noticed me. I drew their attention.

C. F. BROWNE, _Artemus Ward's Lecture_.

That all-softening over-powering knell, The tocsin of the soul--the dinner-bell.

LORD BYRON, _Don Juan_.

Now Darwin proves as clear as mud, That, endless ages ere the Flood, The Coming Man's primeval form Was simply an Ascidian worm: And having then the habit got Of passing liquor down his throat, He keeps it still, and shows full well That Man--was--once----a leather bottèl.

LORD NEAVES, _Songs and Verses_.

"The ancients," quoth Paul, "were very great men, Mr. MacGrawler." "They were so, sir," returned the critic; "we make it a rule in our profession to assert that fact." "But, sir," said Paul, "they are wrong now and then." "Never, Ignoramus, never." "They praised poverty, Mr. MacGrawler," said Paul, with a sigh. "Hem," quoth the critic, a little staggered; but presently recovering his characteristic acumen, he observed, "It is true, Paul, but that was the poverty of other people."

LORD LYTTON, _Paul Clifford_.

Yes, Fortune deserves to be chidden, It is a coincidence queer-- Whenever one wants to be hidden Some blockhead is sure to appear!

FREDERICK LOCKER, _London Lyrics_.

One day in the country [Sheridan Knowles] said to Abbot, with whom he had been acting there, "My dear fellow, I'm off to-morrow. Can I take any letters for you?" "You're very kind," answered Abbot; "but where are you going to?" "_I haven't made up my mind._"

J. R. PLANCHÉ, _Recollections_.

The newspapers lately have taught us to know How some strong-minded hens are beginning to crow. But, dear ladies, beware: take the word of a friend, That when rivalry comes, all affection must end. With the brightest of _spoons_ would be war to the _knife_ In political contests 'twixt husband and wife; And the sentence of doom might be sudden and brief If a feminine subaltern jilted her chief. We men take a pride in concealing our chains, And would like to be thought to monopolize brains; So I'll give you this maxim, my counsels to crown-- _If the stockings are blue, keep the petticoats down._

Talking of Kean, I mentioned his having told me that he had eked out his means of living, before he emerged from obscurity, by teaching dancing, fencing, elocution, and boxing. "Elocution and boxing!" (repeated Bobus Smith)--"a word and a blow."

THOMAS MOORE, _Diary_.

Smart soldiers like to be well tightened in: Loose habits would destroy all discipline.

H. J. BYRON, in _English Epigrams_.

Fontaine, the architect, who built the triumphal arch in the Carrousel, placed upon it an empty car, drawn by the famous bronze Venetian horses. Talleyrand asked him, "_Qui avez vous l'intention de mettre dans le char?_" The answer was, "_L'Empereur Napoléon, comme de raison_." Upon which Talleyrand said, "_Le char l'attend_."

GRONOW, _Recollections_.

'Tis doubtless well to be sometimes awake-- Awake to duty, and awake to truth,-- But when, alas! a nice review we take Of our best deeds and days, we find, in sooth, The hours that leave the slightest cause to weep Are those we passed in childhood or asleep!

JOHN GODFREY SAXE, _Poems_.

_Sir Toby._ "Does not our life consist of the four elements?" _Sir Andrew._ "Faith, so they say; but I think it rather consists of eating and drinking."

_Twelfth Night_, Act II., Scene 3.

She thought "Wives and Daughters" "_so_ jolly;" "Had I read it?" She knew that I had: Like the rest, I should dote upon "Molly;" And "poor Mrs. Gaskell--how sad!" "Like Browning?" "But so-so." His proof lay Too deep for her frivolous mood, That preferred your mere metrical _soufflé_ To the stronger poetical food; Yet at times he was good--"as a tonic:" Was Tennyson writing just now? And was this new poet Byronic, And clever, and naughty, or how?

AUSTIN DOBSON, _Vignettes in Rhyme_.

Old friends are best. King James used to call for his old shoes; they were easiest for his feet.

SELDEN, _Table Talk_.

Let a coach be called, And let the man who called it be the caller; And in his calling let him nothing call, But coach, coach, coach! Oh for a coach, ye gods!

CAREY, _Chrononhotonthologos_.

If you could make a pudding wi' thinking o' the batter, it 'ud be easy getting dinner.

_Mrs. Poyser_, in GEORGE ELIOT's _Adam Bede_.

There's somewhat on my breast, father, There's somewhat on my breast; The livelong day I sigh, father, And at night I cannot rest. 'Tis not the lack of gold, father, Nor want of worldly gear; My lands are broad, and fair to see, My friends are kind and dear.

'Tis not that Janet's false, father, 'Tis not that she's unkind; Though busy flatterers swarm around, I know her constant mind. 'Tis not her coldness, father, That chills my labouring breast: It's that confounded cucumber I've eat and can't digest.

R. H. BARHAM, _Ingoldsby Lyrics_.

Insolence is a charming quality, when, like mercy, it is not strained.

Ancient Phillis has young graces, 'Tis a strange thing, but a true one! Shall I tell you how? She, herself, makes her own faces, And each morning wears a new one; Where's the wonder now?

_Lord Froth_, in CONGREVE's _Double Dealer_.

Célébrité--l'avantage d'être connu de ceux que vous ne connaissez pas.

'Tis past all bearing, when a husband slights his bride, Who last Christmas still was blushing at her elder sister's side; Still on some minute allowance finding collars, boots, and gloves, Still to cousinly flirtations limiting her list of loves, Still by stern domestic edict charged on no account to read Any of Miss Brontë's novels, or to finish _Adam Bede_.

_First Lady_, in TREVELYAN's _Ladies in Parliament_.

I differ from all the ordinary biographers of that independent gentleman Don't Care. I believe Don't Care came to a good end. At any rate he came to some end. Whereas numbers of people never have beginning, or ending, of their own.

_Ellesmere_, in HELPS's _Friends in Council_.

Wisely a woman prefers to a lover a man who neglects her. This one may love her some day; some day the lover will not.

One morning [Jerrold and Compton] proceeded together to view the pictures in the Gallery of Illustration. On entering the ante-room, they found themselves opposite to a number of very long looking-glasses. Pausing before one of these, [Compton] remarked to Jerrold, "You've come here to admire works of art! Very well, first feast your eyes on that work of nature!"--pointing to his own figure reflected in the glass; "look at it, there's a picture for you!" "Yes," said Jerrold, regarding it intently, "very fine, very fine indeed!" Then, turning to his friend: "Wants hanging, though!"

_Memoir of Henry Compton._

Sing for the garish eye, When moonless brandlings cling! Let the froddering crooner cry, And the braddled sapster sing. For never, and never again, Will the tottering beechlings play, For bratticed wrackers are singing aloud, And the throngers croon in May!

Sydney Smith said of a certain quarrelsome person that his very face was a breach of the peace.

J. T. FIELDS, _Yesterdays with Authors_.

Kerchief in hand I saw them stand; In every kerchief lurked a lunch; When they unfurl'd them it was grand To watch bronzed men and maidens crunch The sounding celery-stick, or ram The knife into the blushing ham.

Dash'd the bold fork through pies of pork; O'er hard-boil'd eggs the saltspoon shook; Leapt from its lair the playful cork: Yet some there were, to whom the brook Seemed sweetest beverage, and for meat They chose the red root of the beet.

C. S. CALVERLEY, _Fly Leaves_.

Of all virtues, magnanimity is the rarest. There are a hundred persons of merit for one who willingly acknowledges it in another.

W. HAZLITT, _Characteristics_.

Bisness first, pleasure artervards, as King Richard the Third said ven he stabbed the tother king in the Tower, afore he murdered the babbies.

CHARLES DICKENS, _apud_ J. T. FIELDS.

We are all of us liable to this error of imagining that we are grieved at a fault, when we are only grieved at having done something to lower ourselves in our own estimation.

E. M. SEWELL, _Margaret Percival_.

I trembled once beneath her spell Whose spelling was extremely so-so.

FREDERICK LOCKER, _London Lyrics_.

It's easy finding reasons why other folks should be patient.

_Bartle Massey_, in GEORGE ELIOT's _Adam Bede_.

If thou wouldst stand on Etna's burning brow, With smoke above, and roaring flames below; And gaze adown that molten gulf reveal'd Till thy soul shudder'd, and thy senses reel'd;-- If thou wouldst beard Niagara in his pride, Or stem the billows of Propontic tide; Scale all alone some dizzy Alpine _haut_, And shriek "Excelsior!" amidst the snow;-- Wouldst tempt all deaths, all dangers that may be, Perils by land, and perils on the sea,-- This vast round world, I say, if thou wouldst view it, Then why the dickens don't you go and do it?

H. CHOLMONDELEY PENNELL, _Puck on Pegasus_.

I am saddest when I sing; so are those who hear me. They are sadder even than I am.

C. F. BROWNE, _Artemus Ward's Lecture_.

An ape with a pliable thumb and big brain, When the gift of the gab he had managed to gain, As a lord of creation established his reign, Which nobody can deny.

But I'm sadly afraid, if we do not take care, A relapse to low life may our prospects impair, So of beastly propensities let us beware, Which nobody can deny.

Their lofty position our children may lose, And, reduced to all-fours, must then narrow their views, Which would shortly unfit them for wearing our shoes, Which nobody can deny.

Their vertebræ next might be taken away, When they'd sink to an oyster, or insect, some day, Or the pitiful part of a polypus play, Which nobody can deny.

LORD NEAVES, _Songs and Verses_.

It's dreadful to think on, people playing with their own insides in that way! And it's flying i' the face o' Providence; for what are the doctors for, if we aren't to call 'em in?

_Mrs. Pullet_, in GEORGE ELIOT's _Mill on the Floss_.

Brief, in two rules he summed the ends of man-- Keep all you have, and try for all you can!

LORD LYTTON, _King Arthur_.

What mistress half so dear as mine, Half so well dressed, so pungent, fragrant, Who can such attributes combine, To charm the constant, fix the vagrant? Who can display such varied arts, To suit the taste of saint and sinner, Who go so near to touch their hearts, As thou, my darling dainty dinner?

Still my breast holds a rival queen, A bright-eyed nymph of sloping shoulders, Whose ruddy cheeks and graceful mien Entrance the sense of all beholders. Oh! when thy lips to mine are pressed, What transports titillate my throttle! My love can find new life and zest, In thee, and thee alone, my bottle!

HORACE SMITH, _The Tin Trumpet_.

Fashion with us is like the man in one of Le Sage's novels, who was constantly changing his servants, and yet had but one suit of livery, which every newcomer, whether he was tall or short, fat or thin, was obliged to wear.

_Wormwood_, in LORD LYTTON's _Pelham_.

Unmarketable maidens of the mart, Who, plumpness gone, fine delicacy feint, And hide your sins in piety and paint.

ALFRED AUSTIN, _The Season_.

Seeing O. Smith, the popular melodramatic actor, on the opposite side of the Strand, Knowles rushed across the road, seized him by the hand, and inquired eagerly after his health. Smith, who only knew him by sight, said, "I think, Mr. Knowles, you are mistaken; I am O. Smith." "My dear fellow," cried Knowles, "I beg you ten thousand pardons: I took you for your _namesake_, T. P. Cooke!"

J. R. PLANCHÉ, _Recollections_.

_A PRACTICAL ANSWER._

_Says Hyam to Moses, "Let's cut off our noses," Says Moses to Hyam, "Ma tear, who would buy 'em?"_

SHIRLEY BROOKS, _Wit and Humour_.

Turnips should never be pulled: it injures them. It is much better to send a boy up and let him shake the tree.

MARK TWAIN, _Choice Works_.

He lived in a cave by the seas, He lived upon oysters and foes, But his list of forbidden degrees An extensive morality shows; Geological evidence goes To prove he had never a pan, But he shaved with a shell when he chose,-- 'Twas the manner of Primitive Man.

He worshipped the rain and the breeze, He worshipped the river that flows, And the dawn, and the moon, and the trees, And bogies, and serpents, and crows; He buried his dead with their toes Tucked-up, an original plan, Till their knees came right under their nose,-- 'Twas the manner of Primitive Man.

ANDREW LANG, _Ballades in Blue China_.

On ne loue d'ordinaire que pour être loué.

LA ROCHEFOUCAULD, _Réflexions_.

Would you adopt a strong logical attitude, Bear this in mind, and, whatever you do, Always allow your opponent full latitude, Whether or not his assumption be true. Then, when he manifests feelings of gratitude Merely because you've not shut him up flat, Turn his pet paradox into a platitude With the remark, "Oh, of _course_, we know that!"

The gentle reader, who may wax unkind, And, caring little for the author's ease, Insist on knowing what he means--a hard And hapless situation for a bard.

My dear, when you have a clergyman in your family you must accommodate your tastes: I did that very early. When I married Humphrey, I made up my mind to like sermons, and I set out by liking the end very much. That soon spread to the middle and the beginning, because I couldn't have the end without them.

_Mrs. Cadwallader_, in GEORGE ELIOT's _Middlemarch_.

Great theologians, talk not of Trinity: Heretics, plague us no more with your fibs; One question only, Which is the Divinity,-- Willcox or Gibbs?

MORTIMER COLLINS, _The British Birds_.

"Is that the contents you are looking at?" inquired an anxious author, who saw Rogers's eye fixed on a table or list at the commencement of a presentation copy of a new work. "No," said Rogers, pointing to the list of subscribers, "the _dis_-contents."

A. HAYWARD, _Essays_.

The river's like glass-- As slowly I pass, This sweet little lass Raises two Forget-me-not eyes In laughing surprise-- From canoe. And as I float by, Said I, "Miss, O why? O why may not I Drift with you?" Said she, with a start, "I've no room in my heart-- Or canoe!"

J. ASHBY STERRY, _Boudoir Ballads_.

Kenny one day mentioned Charles Lamb's being once bored by a lady praising to him "such a charming man!" etc., etc.; ending with, "I know him, bless him!" On which Lamb said, "Well, I don't, but d---- him at a hazard."

THOMAS MOORE, _Diary_.