Part 24 (1/2)

The second canto of the ”Pleasures of Memory,”

as published in the first edition, commenced with the lines-- ”Sweet memory, wafted by thy gentle gale, Oft up the tide of Time I turn my sail.”

[A] critic remarked on this pa.s.sage that it suggested the alliteration-- ”Oft up the tide of Time I turn my _tail_.”

ROGERS, _Table Talk_.

I like the man who makes a pun, Or drops a deep remark; I like philosophy or fun-- A lecture or a lark; But I despise the men who gloat Inanely over anecdote.

Ah me! I'd rather live alone Upon a desert isle, Without a voice except my own To cheer me all the while, Than dwell with men who learn by rote Their paltry funds of anecdote.

H. S. LEIGH, _Carols of c.o.c.kayne_.

No woman is too silly not to have a genius for spite.

ANNA C. STEELE.

That's what a man wants in a wife mostly; he wants to make sure o' one fool as 'ull tell him he's wise.

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

The characters of great and small Come ready-made, we can't bespeak one; Their sides are many, too,--and all (Except ourselves) have got a weak one.

Some sanguine people love for life, Some love their hobby till it flings them.-- How many love a pretty wife For love of the _eclat_ she brings them!

FREDERICK LOCKER, _London Lyrics_.

Conscience, in most souls, is like an English Sovereign--it reigns, but it does not govern.

Its function is merely to give a formal a.s.sent to the Bills pa.s.sed by the pa.s.sions; and it knows, if it opposes what those are really bent upon, that ten to one it will be obliged to abdicate.

_Leslie_, in MALLOCK's _New Republic_.

If you are pious (mild form of insanity), Bow down and wors.h.i.+p the ma.s.s of humanity.

Other religions are buried in mists; We're our own G.o.ds, say the Positivists.

MORTIMER COLLINS, _The British Birds_.

We were sitting in the green-room one evening during the performance, chatting and laughing, she [Mrs. Nesbitt] having a book in her hand which she had to take on the stage with her in the next scene, when Brindal, a useful member of the company, but not particularly remarkable for wit or humour, came to the door, and, leaning against it, in a sentimental manner drawled out,-- ”If to her share some female errors fall, Look in her face----”

He paused. She raised her beautiful eyes to him, and consciously smiled--_her_ smile--in antic.i.p.ation of the well-known complimentary termination of the couplet, when, with a deep sigh, he added-- ”----and you'll _believe_ them all!”

J. R. PLANCHe, _Recollections_.