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After Legge was appointed Bishop of Oxford, he had the folly to ask two wits, Canning and Frere, to be present at his first sermon. "Well," said he to Canning, "how did you like it?" "Why, I thought it rather-short."—"Oh, yes, I am aware that it was short; but I was afraid of being tedious." were tedious."

"You

A lady having put to Canning the silly question, 'Why have they made the spaces in the iron gate at Spring Gardens* so narrow?" he replied, "Oh, ma'am, because such very fat people used to go through" (a reply concerning which Tom Moore said, that "the person who does not relish it can have no perception of real wit").

I once mentioned to Canning the anecdote, t that, while Gray was at Peter House, Cambridge,

* At the end of Spring Garden Passage, which opens into St. James's Park.-ED.

Whence this very suspicious version of the anecdote was derived I cannot learn. In a Ms. note of Cole it is given as follows: "One of their tricks was, knowing that Mr. Gray had [having?] a dread of fire, bad rope-ladders in his chamber; they alarmned him in the middle of the night with the cry of fire, in hope of seeing him make use of them from his window, in the middle story of the new building." Mitford's Gray, i. cviii. It was in consequence of these "tricks" that Gray removed from Peter House to Pembroke Hall. - ED.

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some young men of the college having learned that he had a fire-escape in his rooms, alarmed him in the middle of the night by a cry of "fire," and that presently Gray descended from the window by a ladder of ropes, and tumbled into a tub of water, which the rogues had placed there;-upon which, Canning added, that "they had made a mistake in calling out 'fire,' when they meant to cry. 'water.'"

Canning said that a man who could talk of liking dry champagne would not scruple to say any thing.

The Duke of York told me that Dr. Cyril Jackson most conscientiously did his duty as tutor to him and his brother, the Prince of Wales. "Jackson," said the Duke, "used to have a silver pencil-case in his hand while we were at our lessons; and he has frequently given us such knocks with it upon our foreheads, that the blood followed them."

I have often heard the Duke relate how he and his brother George, when young men, were robbed by footpads on Hay Hill. They had dined that

Hay Hill, Berkeley Street, leading to Dover Street.-ED.

day at Devonshire House, had then gone home to lay aside their court-dresses, and afterwards proceeded to a house of a certain description in the neighbourhood of Berkeley Square. They were returning from it in a hackney-coach, late at night, when some footpads stopped them on Hay Hill, and carried off their purses, watches, &c.

In his earlier days the Duke of York was most exact in paying all his debts of honour. One night at Brookes's, while he was playing cards, he said to Lord Thanet, who was about to go home to bed, "Lord Thanet, is our betting still to continue?" "Yes, sir, certainly," was the reply: and next morning Lord Thanet found 15001. left for him at Brookes's by the Duke. But gradually he became less particular in such matters; and at last he would quietly pocket the winnings of the night from Lord Robert Spencer, though he owed Lord Robert about five thousand pounds.

I have several times stayed at Oatlands with the Duke and Duchess of York-both of them most amiable and agreeable persons. We were generally a company of about fifteen; and our being invited to remain there "another day" sometimes depended

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on the ability of our royal host and hostess to raise sufficient money for our entertainment. We used to have all sorts of ridiculous "fun" as we roamed about the grounds. The Duchess kept (besides a number of dogs, for which there was a regular burialplace) a collection of monkeys, each of which had its own pole with a house at top. One of the visitors (whose name I forget) would single out a particular monkey, and play to it on the fiddle with such fury and perseverance, that the poor animal, half-distracted, would at last take refuge in the arms of Lord Alvanley.-Monk Lewis was a great favourite at Oatlands. One day after dinner, as the Duchess was leaving the room, she whispered something into Lewis's ear. He was much affected, his eyes filling with tears. We asked what was the matter. "Oh," replied Lewis, "the Duchess spoke so very kindly to me!"-"My dear fellow," said Colonel Armstrong, "pray don't cry; I daresay -she didn't mean it."

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I was in the pit of the Opera with Crabbe the poet when the Duchess of York beckoned to me, and

Query about this name? Sometimes, while telling the story, Mr. Rogers would say, "I think it was Colonel Armstrong."-ED.

I went into her box. There was no one with her except a lady, whom I did not know; and supposing that she was only one of the Duchess's attendants, I talked very unguardedly about the Duke of Kent. Now, the lady was the Duchess of Gloucester, who took great offence at what I said, and has never forgiven me for it. The Duchess of York told me afterwards that she sat in perfect misery, expecting that, when I had done with the Duke of Kent, I should fall upon the Duke of Gloucester.

In Monk Lewis's writings there is a deal of bad taste; but still he was a man of genius. I'll tell you two stories which he was very fond of repeating (and which Windham used to like). The first is:

The Skeleton in the Church-porch.

Some travellers were supping at an inn in Germany, and sent for the landlord to give him a glass of wine. In the course of conversation the landlord remarked that a certain person whom they happened to speak of, was as obstinate as the Skeleton in the Church-porch. "What is that?" they inquired.