mour the painter to make some portraits of his running horses. One day, at dinner, he drank to him with a sneer: "Cousin Seymour, your health." The painter replied, "I really do believe that I have the honour to be of your grace's family." The duke, offended, rose from table, and sent his steward to pay Seymour, and dismiss him. Another painter of horses was sent for, who, finding himself unworthy to finish Seymour's, honestly told the duke so. On this the haughty peer condescended once more to summon his cousin. Seymour answered his mandate in these words: My lord, I shall now prove that I am of your grace's family, for I will not come."

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THE LATE DUKE OF NEWCASTLE.. 254. It is related of the late Duke of Newcastle, that he was so accustomed to promise, that no applicant whatever left his presence without an assurance of having what he solicited for, though, at the same time, his grace scarcely knew what he had been asked for. A neighbour of his, a major in the army, waited upon him, on his return from abroad. My dear major," said his grace, running up to him, and embracing him, "I am heartily glad to see you; I hope all things go well with you." "I can't say they do, my lord duke," returned he; "I have had the misfortune to lose my "-" Say no more, my dear major," returned he quickly, and stopping his mouth with his hand, (conceiving it to be some appointment which he had lost) " say no more, I entreat you, I'll give you a better."-" Better, my lord," returns the major, "that cannot be!" "How so, my dear friend? how so?" replies the duke. "Because," rejoins the major, "I have lost my leg."

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255. A gentleman, who possessed a small estate in Gloucestershire, was allured to town by the promises of the same nobleman, who, for many months, kept him in constant attendance, until the poor man's pa

tience being quite exhausted, he one morning called upon his patron, and told him that he had at length got a place. The duke very cordially shook him by the hand, and congratulated him on his good fortune, telling him, that in a few days a good thing would have been in his gift: "But pray, sir," added he, "where is your place?"--" In the Gloucester coach," replied he, "I secured it last night."

THE LATE DUKE OF NORFOLK.

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256. Soon after the Duke of Norfolk had abjured the errors of popery, he visited his seat of Worksop Manor, in Nottinghamshire, and, as he walked in the garden, he asked some questions of one of the gardeners, who he found did not know him: "Your master," said the duke, I am told, has changed his religion; pray what do you think of it?"Why," said the gardener, "I know not what to think of it; I hope, however, his grace will make a good protestant, for I have been told he made a very bad catholic."

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257. The late Duke of Norfolk was much addicted to the bottle. On a masquerade night, he asked Foote, what new character he should go in. "Go sober!" said Foote.

THE LATE MARQUIS OF LANSDOWNE. 258. Doctor Goldsmith happened one night, at the theatre at Covent Garden, to be in the same stagebox with the late Marquis of Lansdowne, when the doctor, who was a perfect stranger, was introduced to his lordship. The latter professed himself very happy in being honoured with the doctor's company, and invited him to supper, which was accepted. However, in the course of conversation at the theatre, his lordship observed-That the public paper had given him the title of Malagrida, but for what reason he could not discover." Nor I neither," said

I

the doctor, "for every body knows that Malagrida was an honest man."

THOMAS, THE FIRST EARL OF RUTLAND.

259. Mr. Manners, who had been but lately created Earl of Rutland, said to Sir Thomas More, "You are so much elated with your preferments, that you verify the old proverb,

Honores mutunt MORES."

"No, my lord," said Sir Thomas, "the pun will do much better in English:

WILMOT, EARL OF ROCHESTER.

260. The witty and licentious Earl of Rochester meeting with the great Isaac Barrow in the Park, told his companions that he would have some fun with the rusty old put. Accordingly, he went up with great gravity, and taking off his hat, made the doctor a profound bow, saying, "Doctor, 1 am your's to my shoe-tic." The doctor sceing his drift, immediately pulled off his beaver, and returned the bow, with, "My lord, I am your's to the ground." Rochester followed up his salutation by a deeper bow, saying, "Doctor, I am your's to the centre." Barrow, with a very lowly obeisance, replied, “My lord, I am your's to the antipodes." His lordship, nearly gravelled, exclaimed, "Doctor, I am your's to the lowest pit of hell."-" There, my lord," said Barrow, sarcastically, "I leave you;" and walked off.

WILLIAM BENTINCK, FIRST EARL OF PORTLAND. 261. A Dutch nobleman (the Earl of Portland) who came over with our third William, being once haranguing a multitude in favour of his master, assured them that he was come for all their goods. 66 Yes," replied Sir Watkin Williams, “and for our chattels too."

ROBERT HARLEY, FIRST EARL OF OXFORD. 262. The following anecdote is related of the famous Robert, Earl of Oxford. "My lord," said a profligate of those days, "you and I have been in all the jails of the kingdom."-" What do you mean by that, you rascal?" exclaimed the earl. "Your lordship," said he, " has been in the Tower, and I have been in every other in the kingdom."

THE LATE EARL OF ABERCORN.

263. The late Earl of Abercorn was a very stiff, and not a very polite man. When the queen arrived from Germany, his lordship had the honour of receiving her and her suite at his house, where they slept. Soon after, at a levee, his majesty thanked him for his attention to the queen, saying, he was afraid her visit had occasioned his lordship a good deal of trouble. He replied, “ A good deal indeed.”

THE LATE EARL OF PETERBORough.

264. The late Lord Peterborough having, in one of his perambulations through the streets of the metropolis, been grossly insulted by a carman, very deliberately stripped, and gave the fellow such a drubbing, that he could scarcely move a limb. A man seeing the transaction, came up at the conclusion of the affray, and asked the man if he knew the person with whom he had been boxing was a lord? "A lord!" says the fellow, "a lord!-they may call him what they please, and he may be what he will, but I am sure, from the weight of that leaden fist of his, that his father must have been a drayman.”

THE LATE EARL OF KELlie.

265. One day Lord Kellie, whose frequent sacrifices to Bacchus had produced a rubicundity of nose, that would have done honour to Bardolph himself, called on Mr. Foote at Fulham. “Oh, Kellie!" says

Foote, "I am glad you are come; my peaches are very backward; be so kind as hold your nose over them two or three hours."

266. The late Sam Foote would say any thing of any body, or to any body. When he was once at Lord Kellie's table, a gentleman present complained that the beer was rather cold. "Get his lordship to dip his nose into the tankard," said Foote, "and if be keeps it there half a minute, and the beer does not boil, it must be fire-proof."

267. The same nobleman having spoken rather disrespectfully of a gentleman in the army, an Irishman present observed, "That if any man that lived, or ever had lived, or ever could live, had said the same of him, he would have pull'd him by the nose." "Yes," replied Foote, I dare say you would; but in the present case that would not do, there are ways enough of revenging an insult, without running one's hand into the fire."

PHILIP DORMER, THE FOURTH EARL OF

CHESTERFIELD.

268. The late Lord Chesterfield happened to be at a rout in France, where Voltaire was one of the guests. Chesterfield seemed to be gazing about on the brilliant circle of ladies, when Voltaire thus accosted him: My lord, I know you are a judge, which are more beautiful, the English or French ladies?"" Upon my word," replied his lordship, with his usual presence of mind, "I am no connoisseur in paintings." Some time after this, Voltaire being in London, happened to be at a nobleman's rout with Lord Chesterfield. A lady in company, prodigiously painted, directed her whole discourse to Voltaire, and entirely engrossed his conversation. Chesterfield came up, and tapped him on his shoulder, saying, Sir, take care you are not captivated.”—“ My

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