A certain clergyman, who was more busied in the pleasures of the chase than in superintending the souls of his flock, one day, meeting with little sport, proposed to entertain his companions at the expense of an inoffensive quaker, whom he had very often ridiculed, and who was then approaching them. He rode up to him briskly, saying, “Obadiah, have you seen the hare?” “Why, hast thou lost him, neighbour?” said the quaker. “Lost him! yes, indeed.” “Then,” replied he, “if I were the hare I would run where I am sure thou could’st never find me.” “Where the devil is that?” asked the blustering son of Nimrod. “Why, neighbour,” answered the other, “I would run into thy study!”
An Earl Marshal was found fault with by his sovereign for some misarrangements at a coronation. “Please your Majesty,” said he, “I hope to do better next time.”
Lord Chesterfield chanced one day to be at the Duke of Newcastle’s levee, when _Garnet upon Job_, a book dedicated to that nobleman, happened to lie in the window. Before his Grace made his appearance, his Lordship had time enough to amuse himself with the book; and when the Duke entered, he found him reading in it. “Well, my Lord,” said his Grace, “what is your opinion of that book?” “In any other place I should not think much of it,” replied his Lordship; “but being in your Grace’s levee, I think it one of the best books in the world.”
A lady of fashion, very young, very giddy, and just married, walking with Lord Chesterfield, asked his Lordship if she did not look very young? “Indeed, my lady,” said he, “you look as if you were just come from boarding-school, and fit to return again.”
As Lord L---- was one day lamenting to his Lordship the misconduct of his son, the latter advised a place at court as one method which, perhaps, might cause an amendment. The father replied he was not steady enough. “Yes, yes,” said his Lordship, “he is steady enough to be Master of the Revels.”
James I. first coined his twenty-two shilling pieces, called Jacobuses, with his head crowned. He afterwards coined his twenty shilling pieces, where he wore the laurel instead of the crown. Ben Jonson observed on this that “Poets always came to poverty; King James no sooner began to wear bays, than he fell two shillings in the pound.”