Dr. Johnson was long a bigoted Jacobite.  When he was walking with some friends in Kensington Gardens, one of them observed that it was a fine place.  “Phoo,” said Johnson, “nothing can be fine that belongs to a usurper.”  Dr. Monsey assured me, that once in company, when the conversation was on the age of King George the Third, he heard him say, “What does it signify when such an animal was born, or whether he ever existed?” Yet he afterwards said, in his account of his interview with His Majesty, that it was not for him “to bandy compliments with his sovereign.”

Cards.

Mr. Murphy told me also, that he was once present at Tom’s Coffee-house, in Russell Street Covent Garden, which was only open to subscribers, when Colley Cibber was engaged at whist, and an old General was his partner.  As the cards were dealt to him, he took up every one in turn, and expressed his disappointment at every indifferent one.  In the progress of the game he did not follow suit, and his partner said, “What! have you not a spade, Mr. Cibber?” The latter, looking at his cards, answered, “Oh, yes, a thousand;” which drew a very peevish comment from the General.  On which Cibber, who was shockingly addicted to swearing, replied, “Don’t be angry, for ——­ I can play ten times worse if I like.”

All on one Side.

Major Grose told me that when he was quartered in Dublin, he ordered an Irish sergeant to exercise the men in shooting at a mark.  The sergeant had placed a pole for them to take aim, stationing a certain number on one side, and an equal number on the other, in direct opposition.  The Major happened to reach the spot just as they were going to fire, stopped them, and expressed his surprise that the sergeant should have placed them in so dangerous a position, as they must necessarily wound, if not kill each other.  “Kill each other!” said the sergeant, “why, they are all our own men.”  As the men so contentedly remained in the dangerous position, it may be inferred that they were as wise as the sergeant.  This story illustrates that of Lord Thomond’s cooks, which when the keeper let loose, were fighting each other,—­much to his surprise he said, as they belonged to one person, and were “all on the same side.”

Vails to Servants.

It is said that this practice prevailed to such a degree, even at the house of the great Lord Chesterfield, that when he invited Voltaire a second time to his table, the French wit in his answer declined the invitation, alleging that “his lordship’s ordinary was too dear.”

Another evil practice of servants to the higher orders, at that time, was carried to such a height that it wrought its own cure.  It was usual at the old Italian Opera-house to allot a gallery to the footmen, that when their masters or mistresses had appointed the time to leave the theatre, their servants might be ready to attend.  But these livery-men took it into their heads to become critics upon the performances, and delivered their comments in so tumultuous a manner, that the managers found it absolutely necessary to close the gallery against them, and to assign it to those only who paid for admission.