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tering his room, found him absorbed in some abstruse calculation, with the egg in his hand, upon which he was looking intently, and the watch supplying its place in the saucepan of boiling water.
FLYING TO THE UTMOST BOUNDS OF INFINITE SPACE.
During the days of Bishop Hinchley, at a visitation sermon, preached before the University of Cambridge, the preacher indulged himself in much speculative argumentation, and concluded by speaking, though rhetorically, by no means mathematically or metaphysically, of an angel's flying to the utmost bounds of infinite space.
Dr. Jortin was, by some writer, once accused of indelicacy. All the world laughed at the conceit, and Jortin himself was surprised into a grin. "How comes it, John," said a friend of his, "that you should have the reputation of less delicacy than the broker?" "I'll tell you," said the doctor. "Rambling one day in the environs of the zodiac, instead of making my bow and my speech, I happened to turn my posteriors upon Ursa Major!"
Paley frequently mixed in card-parties, and was considered a skilful player at whist; but he would, at all times, readily forego the amusement for conversation with
an intelligent companion. A lady once observed to him at a card-table-"that the only excuse for their playing was, that it served to kill time." "The best defence possible, madam," replied he, "though time will in the end kill us!"
Mr. Yates, the celebrated master of the free grammarschool at Appleby, which he had taught with credit and success for half a century, when in his eightieth year, still retaining the vigour of his faculties, became intimate with Paley. Many of their mutual compliments are remembered by their intimate friends; amongst others, the following:-" Mr. Paley reasons like Locke," was the observation of Yates; "Mr. Yates writes like Erasmus," was the equally merited reply of Paley.
FACETIOUS SKETCH OF THE CHARACTER OF PAUL I. OF RUSSIA.
Tweddall, in a letter to one of his friends, dated Moscow, 1797, thus facetiously describes the character of Paul I.:-"He is," says Tweddell, "a great imitator of Frederic II., for which reason he wears great boots and hideous uniforms, and exercises his troops at six o'clock in the morning without his hat on, when the cold is at sixteen degrees. He wishes to unite magnificence with economy-for which reason he makes superb presents to individuals, and great retrenchments in the general departments of state. He certainly has the most
brilliant court in Europe; it is truly splendid. On the day of his coronation, at dinner, the lieutenant-colonels presented his dishes upon one knee. How can this eastern despot pretend to unite such base servitude with his love of the military? He is capricious and minute-attaching weight to trifles. All the military are obliged to have long queues; a man with short hair cannot command his armies. General Mack would not have sufficient merit to be a sergeant, for he has the vice of baldness: the emperor would treat him as the naughty boys treated Elisha. He judges all men upon the model of Samson, and conceives their force to be in their hair. His first acts, such as the liberation of Koskiusko, placed him in a fair light, and made him appear brighter than he ought to appear. In short, Paul is a poor thing; he does not want sense, but he has not capacity to embrace a comprehensive system of measures. He is a little man standing on tip-toe; he libels dignity when he struts; and reminds me of a poultry-yard, when he traverses the palace in the midst of the dames of honour.
FULLER ALL OVER.
The Rev. Thomas Fuller, who was educated at Queen's College, Cambridge, was in his day a great punster, and, also, a man of most lively wit. He was extremely corpulent, and one day, as he was riding in company with a gentleman of his acquaintance, named Sparrowhawk, he could not resist the opportunity of passing a joke upon him. "Pray what is the difference," said Fuller, between an owl and a sparrowhawk?" "Oh," retorted the other, sarcastically, "an owl is fuller in the head, fuller in the body, and fuller all over!”
KEEPING A CONSCIENCE.
The great controversy on the propriety of requiring a subscription to articles of faith, as practised by the church of England, excited at this time (1772) a very strong sensation amongst the members of the two universities. At Oxford the high church were completely triumphant; but in Cambridge the discussion ran high, and exercised talents and ingenuity on both sides of the question, attended with no small asperity. Paley was personally attached to many of the reforming party, but, though favourable to their claims, he did not sign the clerical petition which was presented to the House of Commons for relief; alleging jocularly to Mr. Jebb, as an apology for his refusal, that, "he could not afford to keep a conscience."
RETORT ON RETORT.
Dr. South, in his "Animadversions on Dr. Sherlock's Vindication of the Trinity," in 1693, occasionally reflected upon Archbishop Tillotson, for his "signal and peculiar encomium, as he calls it, on the reasoning abilities of the Socinians;" and, being desirous of knowing the archbishop's opinion of his performance, procured a friend of his to draw it from him, who gave it to this effect, that the doctor wrote like a man, but bit like a dog. This being reported to Dr. South, he answered, that "he had rather bite like a dog, than fawn like one." To which the archbishop replied, that "for his part, he should choose to be a spaniel rather than a cur."
A DELICATE MORSEL.
A son of Grantor, whose delight was rather in the sports of the field than in strutting about the streets of the University à la Cantab, had been out very early one morning at a fox-chase: from which returning at a late hour, his appetite became so excessively keen, that it was not to be resisted, and accordingly he resolved to beg alms at the first farmhouse he might light on. His sight rendered keener by the cravings of his stomach, he soon espied a small house at some distance, which having gained, he offered his humble petition to mine hostess. The old dame courtesied, begged our hero would alight, and regretted she had no better cheer to offer him than the remnant of a meat pie, the remains of their own frugal meal. "Anything is better than nothing," cried the Cantab, at the same time entreating she would not delay a moment in placing it before him; for he already devoured it in imagination, so keen was his hunger. "Here it is," said the dame, producing it at the same instant from a small cupboard near the elbow of our sportsman, who turned round as she spoke-" Here it is, sir; it is only made of the odds and ends, but may hope your honour would like it, though it has mutton and beef and all that in it." 66 Charming! my good woman, it needs no apology; I never tasted a more delicious morsel in my life!" continued the Cantab, as he swallowed or rather devoured mouthful after mouthful. "But there is fish in it, too," said he, as he greedily sucked what he supposed to be a bone. "Fish," exclaimed the old dame, looking intently on what the sportsman had got in his hand: "fish, nae, sir,—why lack a day (cried she)! if that beant our Billy's comb!"