The Bed-Book of Happiness | Page 5

have heard that he was a man universally loved, as well as
honoured ... a friendly, true, and high-minded man; copious in speech,
which was full of grave, genuine humour; contented with simple people
and simple pleasures; and himself of the simplest habits and wishes.
BROKEN STUDIES [Sidenote: _Richter_]
I deny myself my evening meal in my eagerness to work; but the
interruptions by my children I cannot deny myself.
THE GREAT CONDÉ [Sidenote: _Percy Anecdotes_]
The Great Condé passing through the city of Sens, which belonged to
Burgundy, and of which he was the governor, took great pleasure in
disconcerting the different companies who came to compliment him.
The Abbé Boileau, brother of the poet, was commissioned to make a
speech to the Prince at the head of the chapter. Condé wishing to
disconcert the orator, advanced his head and large nose towards the
Abbé, as if with the intention of hearing him more distinctly, but in
reality to make him blunder if possible. The Abbé, who perceived his
design, pretended to be greatly embarrassed, and thus began his speech:
"My lord, your highness ought not to be surprised to see me tremble,
when I appear before you at the head of a company of ecclesiastics;

were I at the head of an army of thirty thousand men, I should tremble
much more." The Prince was so charmed with this sally that he
embraced the orator without suffering him to proceed. He asked his
name; and when he found that he was brother to M. Despreaux, he
redoubled his attentions, and invited him to dinner.
The Prince on another occasion thought himself offended by the Abbé
de Voisenon; Voisenon, hearing of this, went to Court to exculpate
himself. As soon as the Prince saw him he turned away from him.
"Thank God!" said Voisenon, "I have been misinformed, sir; your
highness does not treat me as if I were an enemy." "How do you see
that, M. Abbé?" said his highness coldly over his shoulder. "Because,
sir," answered the Abbé, "your highness never turns your back upon an
enemy." "My dear Abbé," exclaimed the Prince and Field-Marshal,
turning round and taking him by the hand, "it is quite impossible for
any man to be angry with you."
A CLASSICAL ASS [Sidenote: _Percy Anecdotes_]
The ass, though the dullest of all unlaughing animals, is reported to
have once accomplished a great feat in the way of exciting laughter.
Marcus Crassus, the grandfather of the hero of that name, who fell in
the Parthian War, was a person of such immovable gravity of
countenance that, in the whole course of his life, he was never known
to laugh but once, and hence was surnamed Agelastus. Not all that the
wittiest men of his time could say, nor aught that comedy or farce could
produce on the stage, was ever known to call up more than a smile on
his iron-bound countenance. Happening one day, however, to stray into
the fields, he espied an ass browsing on thistles; and in this there
appears to have been something so eminently ridiculous in those days
that the man who never laughed before could not help laughing at it
outright. It was but the burst of a moment; Agelastus immediately
recovered himself, and never laughed again.
MEMORY [Sidenote: _Percy Anecdotes_]
A player being reproached by Rich for having forgot some of the words
in "The Beggar's Opera," on the fifty-third night of its performance,
cried out, "What! do you think one can remember a thing for ever?"
"COME IN HERE" [Sidenote: _Percy Anecdotes_]
Burton, in his "Melancholy," quoting from Poggius, the Florentine, tells
us of a physician in Milan who kept a house for the reception of

lunatics, and, by way of cure, used to make his patients stand for a
length of time in a pit of water, some up to the knees, some to the girdle,
and others as high as the chin, _pro modo insaniæ_, according as they
were more or less affected. An inmate of this establishment, who
happened, "by chance," to be pretty well recovered, was standing at the
door of the house, and, seeing a gallant cavalier ride past with a hawk
on his fist, and his spaniels after him, he must needs ask what all these
preparations meant. The cavalier answered, "To kill game." "What may
the game be worth which you kill in the course of a year?" rejoined the
patient. "About five or ten crowns." "And what may your horse, dogs,
and hawks stand you in?" "Four hundred crowns more." On hearing
this, the patient with great earnestness of manner, bade the cavalier
instantly begone, as he valued his life and welfare; "For," said he, "if
our master come and find you here, he will put you into