The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 12, No. 347, December 20, 1828

THE ANECDOTE GALLERY

WHITFIELD

Remarkable instances are related of the manner in which Whitfield impressed his hearers. A man at Exeter stood with stones in his pocket, and one in his hand, ready to throw at him; but he dropped it before the sermon was far advanced, and going up to him after the preaching was over, he said, "Sir, I came to hear you with an intention to break your head; but God, through your ministry, has given me a broken heart." A ship-builder was once asked what he thought of him. "Think!" he replied, "I tell you, sir, every Sunday that I go to my parish church, I can build a ship from stem to stern under the sermon; but, were it to save my soul, under Mr. Whitfield I could not lay a single plank." Hume pronounced him the most ingenious preacher he had ever heard; and said, it was worth while to go twenty miles to hear him. But, perhaps, the greatest proof of his persuasive powers was, when he drew from Franklin's pocket the money which that clear, cool reasoner had determined not to give; it was for the orphan-house at Savannah. "I did not," says the American philosopher, "disapprove of the design; but as Georgia was then destitute of materials and workmen, and it was proposed to send them from Philadelphia at a great expense, I thought it would have been better to have built the house at Philadelphia, and brought the children to it. This I advised; but he was resolute in his first project, rejected my counsel, and I therefore refused to contribute. I happened, soon after, to attend one of his sermons, in the course of which I perceived he intended to finish with a collection, and I silently resolved he should get nothing from me. I had in my pocket a handful of copper money, three or four silver dollars, and five pistoles in gold. As he proceeded I began to soften, and concluded to give the copper; another stroke of his oratory made me ashamed of that, and determined me to give the silver; and he finished so admirably, that I emptied my pocket wholly into the collector's dish, gold and all.

"At this sermon," continues Franklin, "there was also one of our club, who, being of my sentiments respecting the building in Georgia, and suspecting a collection might be intended, had, by precaution, emptied his pockets before he came from home; towards the conclusion of the discourse, however, he felt a strong inclination to give, and applied to a neighbour who stood near him, to lend him some money for the purpose. The request was fortunately made to perhaps the only man in the company who had the firmness not to be affected by the preacher. His answer was, 'At any other time, friend Hopkinson, I would lend to thee freely; but not now, for thee seems to me to be out of thy right senses.'"

One of his flights of oratory, not in the best taste, is related on Hume's authority. "After a solemn pause, Mr. Whitfield thus addresses his audience:—'The attendant angel is just about to leave the threshold, and ascend to heaven; and shall he ascend and not bear with him the news of one sinner, among all the multitude, reclaimed from the error of his ways!' To give the greater effect to this exclamation, he stamped with his foot, lifted up his hands and eyes to heaven, and cried aloud, 'Stop, Gabriel! stop, Gabriel! stop, ere you enter the sacred portals, and yet carry with you the news of one sinner converted to God!'" Hume said this address was accompanied with such animated, yet natural action, that it surpassed any thing he ever saw or heard in any other preacher.—Southey.

SIR RICHARD JEBB

Was very rough and harsh in manner. He said to a patient, to whom he had been very rude, "Sir, it is my way."—"Then," replied the patient, pointing to the door, "I beg you will make that your way." Sir Richard was not very nice in his mode of expression, and would frequently astonish a patient with a volley of oaths. Nothing used to make him swear more than the eternal question, "What may I eat? Pray, Sir Richard, may I eat a muffin?"—"Yes, Madam, the best thing you can take."—"O dear! I am glad of that. But, Sir Richard, you told me the other day that it was the worst thing I could eat!"—"What would be proper for me to eat to-day?" says another lady.—"Boiled turnips."—"Boiled turnips! you forget, Sir Richard, I told you I could not bear boiled turnips."—"Then, Madam, you must have a—vitiated appetite."

Sir Richard, being called to see a patient who fancied himself very ill, told him ingenuously what he thought, and declined prescribing, thinking it unnecessary. "Now you are here," said the patient, "I shall be obliged to you, Sir Richard, if you will tell me how I must live, what I may eat, and what not."—"My directions as to that point," replied Sir Richard, "will be few and simple. You must not eat the poker, shovel, or tongs, for they are hard of digestion; nor the bellows, because they are windy; but any thing else you please!"

He was first cousin to Dr. John Jebb, who had been a dissenting minister, well known for his political opinions and writings. His Majesty George III. used sometimes to talk to Sir Richard concerning his cousin; and once, more particularly, spoke of his restless, reforming spirit in the church, in the university, physic, &c. "And please your Majesty," replied Sir Richard, "if my cousin were in heaven he would be a reformer!"—Wadd's Memoirs.

THE GATHERER

"A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles."

    SHAKESPEARE.

GOOD BYE

When from the friend we dearly love
Fate tells us we must part,
By speech we can but feebly prove
The anguish of the heart.

And no soft words, howe'er sincere,
Can half so much imply,
As that suppress'd, though trembling tear,
Which drowns the word—Good bye.

Warwick. W.S.

A keen shopkeeper, having in his service a couple of shopmen, who in point of intellect, were the very reverse of their master, a wag who frequented the shop, for some time puzzled the neighbourhood by designating it a "music-shop," although the proprietor dealt as much in music as in millstones. However, being pressed for an explanation, he said that the scale was conducted by a sharp, a flat and a natural; and if these did not constitute "music," he did not know what did.

ISSACCAR.

IMMORTALITY

Napoleon being in the gallery of the Louvre one day, attended by Baron Denon, turned round suddenly from a fine picture, which he had viewed for some time in silence, and said to him, "That is a noble picture, Denon."—"Immortal," was Denon's reply. "How long," inquired Napoleon, "will this picture last?" Denon answered, that, "with care and in a proper situation, it might last, perhaps, five hundred years."—"And how long," said Napoleon, "will a statue last?"—"Perhaps," replied Denon, "five thousand years."—"And this," returned Napoleon, sharply, "this you call immortality!"

LINES TO A LADY, ON HER REFUSING HER CARD

Let heroes, anxious for their future fame,
Obtain of Fortune what they want—a name;
The future theirs, the present hour be mine—
The only name I ask of fate—is thine;
Yet happier still had fate decreed to me
The favour'd lot, to give my name to thee.

T.B.

A dull barrister, once obtained the nickname Necessity—because Necessity has no law.

PURCHASERS of the MIRROR, who may wish to complete their sets are informed that every volume is complete in itself and may be purchased separately. The whole of the numbers are now in print, and can be procured by giving an order to any Bookseller or Newsvender.

notes

1

Cavendish's Life of Wolsey, p. 1. edit. 1641. Most of his biographers affirm that he was the son of a butcher.

2

"Northern Tour." The same author observes, that "the death of Wolsey would make a fine moral picture, if the hand of any master could give the pallid features of the dying statesman, that chagrin, that remorse, those pangs of anguish, which, in the last bitter moments of his life, possessed him. The point might be taken when the monks are administering the comforts of religion, which the despairing prelate cannot feel. The subject requires a gloomy apartment, which a ray through a Gothic window might just enlighten, throwing its force chiefly on the principal figure, and dying away on the rest. The appendages of the piece need only be few and simple; little more than the crozier and red hat to mark the cardinal and tell the story."

3

Stow's "Annals," p. 557, edit. 1615.

4

Shakspeare introduces this memorable saying of the cardinal into his play of "Henry the Eighth:"—

—"O Cromwell, Cromwell,
Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal
I serv'd my king, he would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies."

5

Stow's "Annals."

6

Holinshed's "Chronicle," vol. iii. p. 765, edit. 1808.

7

"Collectanea," vol i. p. 70.

8

Tanner.